Letting Go
The Illusion of Possessions and the Generosity of Detachment
Hands of Butter, Grasping at Moonlight
“Whoever wants to receive everything must also renounce everything.”
“God wants to give us himself and all things as our own free possessions, so he wants to deprives us, utterly and completely, of all possessiveness.”
“But we ought to have everything as if it were loaned to us and not given, without any possessiveness, whether it be our bodies or our souls, our minds, powers, worldly goods or honors, friends, relations, houses, lands, all things.” Meister Eckhart (ME1 281)1
There is something about maintaining a practice of contemplative prayer that drives home the reality that most everything in this world is impermanent, including ourselves. I’m not sure why that is. Perhaps the practice of letting thoughts go and inhabiting the moment draws back the curtain a little bit on the illusion and reveals the perspicuity of change.
Nonetheless, we have a tendency to strive against the reality in hopes that we can make things and experiences permanent. That makes sense; we want good things to last. But as we try to conform a changing world to our desires, the world keeps spinning, teaching us that this too, whatever it is, shall pass. It brings to mind the song “Lungs” by Townes Van Zandt:
Fingers walk the darkness down, mind is on the midnight
Gather up the gold you've found, you fool, it's only moonlight
And if you stop to take it home, your hands will turn to butter
Better leave this dream alone, try to find another
Finding Fulfillment in the Desert
“Above all, claim nothing for yourself. Relax and let God operate you and do what he will with you…Be like a desert as far as self and the things of this world are concerned.” (ME2 115)2
“Therefore, it is not enough to surrender self and all that goes with it once. We have to renew the surrender often, for thus we shall be free and unfettered in all we do.” (ME2 33)
It is paradoxical that the fulfillment we seek is found in letting go. But as Jesus put it, “Those who try to make their life secure will lose it, but those who lose their life will keep it” (Luke 17:33 NRSV). Meister Eckhart recommends the surrender of self and all that goes with it. But, he argues, in becoming “like a desert,” we are filled with the divine. This is the blessing of being “poor in spirit.” We saw something similar with Mechthild of Magdeburg, who says our true nature is to be empty of “creatures” and filled with God.
Spending time in the stillness and silence helps us learn to let go and enter the desert. Similar to what Eckhart might say, we can think of the desert as the ground of our being where only God can go. It is empty of everything that seems to separate us from God; although, nothing does. The path to this desert is traveled by letting go of thoughts and judgments, fears and regrets, assumptions and speculations, and whatever else might stand between God and us. In this desert, our illusory self that tries to form reality around its peculiar desires, that strives to possess and control, and then finds little peace in a changing world begins to fade away. And out of this same desert in the ground of our being, who we are in Christ begins to emerge.
The Freedom to Love Generously
“Relax and let God operate you.” To let go and be detached is to be free of possessiveness. Imagine the kind of generosity and love that detachment enables. Eckhart once commented that “it is astonishing how much stronger the love and greater love self-denial will engender” (ME2 18). Is it any wonder that Jesus teaches us to take up our cross and deny ourselves? The logic is not hard to follow. The blessing of being “poor in spirit” is being filled with God. To be filled with God brings not only contentment and great love but also detachment and the freedom to be generous toward others.
Meister Eckhart: The Essential Sermons, Commentaries, Treatises, and Defense, Meister Eckhart (Trans. Edmund Colledge and Bernard McGinn; Paulist Press; 1981)
Meister Eckhart: A Modern Translation, Meister Eckhart (Trans. Raymond Bernard Blakney; Harper & Brothers; 1941)