A few weeks ago I sat in the window seat of a jet flying at 37,000 feet, and watched the sun set over Montana. I fell into a sort of trance, gazing at the colors: black over navy blue over turquoise over effulgent streaks of gold above layers of slate gray tinged with orange and pink. I got to a point where I wasn’t just looking at the sunset. I was in it, and it was in me. I was fully engaged, fully involved, in that sunset. I went into a state of what I can only describe as bliss: an hour of pure joy, in which I found my mind repeating the words "thank you" over and over again, even after the sky went black over North Dakota. It was one of the rare moments in my life when I felt perfectly content in the moment, not needing anything else, feeling no push to do or think or feel something more. Time didn’t matter: I was experiencing eternity in the moment. I was so joyful that I didn’t even mind when the feeling passed and I went back to my more normal manner of experiencing things. Just writing about it, I am able to taste that experience again.
"The eye with which I see God is the eye with which God sees me." These words of Meister Eckhart, the 14th century mystical Christian priest, ring true for me as I recall that sunset. Not only are we made in the image of God, but we also share the inner eye by which we and God encounter that image. The soul is like the mantle of a gas lamp – a thin, ethereal surface where air, heat, and fuel meet to make light. The soul is where God, our selves, and the universe meet.
It is moments like that one at 37,000 feet that make it hard for me to accept the old Christian idea of "original sin". This doctrine presumes that human beings are fundamentally evil and thus in need of divine salvation through a bloody sacrifice. The good news is that Christianity offers an alternative to that time-worn concept. Christianity offers not only "original sin", but also "original Zin" – as in Zinfandel. It offers a chalice of wine to everyone: a chalice that establishes mystical communion between God and human beings. Original Zin means that the lips with which we sip the wine are the lips with which God sips the wine, too. Zinfandel becomes the medium by which we know our fundamental goodness, the sacred essence at the core of who we are.
Thank you, thank you, thank you: these were the only words that made sense to me as I communed with God through that sunset. And they are the words before the sharing of the wine and bread in the traditional eucharist, or communion – words called The Great Thanksgiving: "It is very meet, right, and our bounden duty, that we should at all times, and in all places, give thanks unto thee, O Lord..." At 37,000 feet in a plane, or 100 feet above sea level in a church – thank you, thank you, thank you.