A small meditation on not knowing as a spiritual discipline

It was on the 25th of August in 1609 that Galileo Galilei revealed his telescope to the leaders of Venice. Much would follow. Among these things a terrible conclusion.  In 1633 that Vincenzo Maculani da Firenzuola representing the Holy Office of the Inquisition, declared:

“We pronounce, judge, and declare, that you, the said Galileo… have rendered yourself vehemently suspected by this Holy Office of heresy, that is, of having believed and held the doctrine (which is false and contrary to the Holy and Divine Scriptures) that the sun is the center of the world, and that it does not move from east to west, and that the earth does move, and is not the center of the world.”

Given little choice beyond the stake, Galileo submitted. Although he is said to have muttered, probably under his breath, “Eppur si muove.” “But it moves…”

When I think of Galileo and his dealings with a church totally tied into a state, I think of various things. Science. Of course. Freedom of thought. Absolutely. But also the struggles of the spirit between the forces of knowing and those of not knowing. Not knowing. Not knowing as a deep curiosity and a willingness to learn. A profound receptivity. I consider this the greatest of spiritual disciplines.

For me the really important thing to notice about that emerging scientific method of which Galileo was a master, was a deep curiosity, a desire to know that birthed out of realizing one does not know. Now Zen’s not knowing is a bit different. They are both informed by a great humility.

The scientific project looks at things as clearly as possible, and seeks the connections. There is an activity to it that is admirable. The spiritual practice of not knowing requires a receptivity. This not knowing allows things to present themselves, to come to us, if you will, and for us to not create boundaries. It is an allowing of a mutual interpenetration of things, a discovery of just how we are created and sustained by another. By a universe of other, that gathers as us, you, me.

It may even be more important than the findings of science. Certainly as the matter of finding our lives and who we are. It may open doors to the healing of broken hearts. It might even open doors to the great mysteries of who we really are.

It’s the way of not knowing as a spiritual discipline.

Not knowing is a gift. It is as powerful as a telescope. More than that. It takes us to the very heart of the matter.

Opening ourselves as wide as the sky,  allowing the world to come to us, we can discover the heart universe itself.

Well, that’s what I say.

The invitation isn’t to a pat answer from someone else. The invitation is for you to do your own looking. Find your own deep curiosity. Open yourself into the great not knowing.

And discover whatever moons might be flying by…