Hungry for God

I was on the other side of the world, watching an elderly couple when it dropped in my system: people are so hungry for God. The man held out a hand, gently helping her down the stairs into the cold water of Tirta Empul. 

Built in 962 AD, Tirta Empul is a sacred temple designed for ritual purification. It’s made up of 14 different spouts across two pools. Big stone basins with water waist high. Each fountain has a different vibration and purpose for cleansing. 

One spout for your skin, one for bones, one for digestion. One for honoring the dead. You don’t go under that one, it’s only for ghosts. My favorite though, is the one that wipes all your broken promises clean.

This was my second time visiting. 

Rewind seven years to my first visit to Bali, the Island of the Gods. Then, I was invited to participate in a Blessing for a new kitchen at the hotel where I was staying. Wrapped in a deep purple sarong, I sat with the staff waiting for the ceremony to start, all of us munching on colorful cakes. 

Finally, the Holy Man took his seat. Dressed in white pants and a long sleeved shirt, he rang the bells calling attention. For what seemed like a very long time, I watched him pray, chanting just below what I could hear. 

At the end we all ran around the property smiling, throwing flowers and little splashes of holy water on the land. 

The thing that stays with me after all these years is that the whole time his cell phone was just off to the side. The black rectangle was a sharp contrast to the yellow and white frangipani flowers that he touched to his forehead and chest with reverence.

Hunger is the feeling of discomfort or weakness caused by lack of nourishment combined with a desire for satiation. It’s our hunger for food that calls us to eat. It’s our hunger for connection that prompts us to reach. It’s our hunger for meaning that causes us to pick up a path of spirituality. 

We’ve forgotten our inherent connection to spirit. We’ve forgotten that part of being human is being divine. We’ve forgotten that God is the animating force that beats your heart and breathes your breath. If there’s an ache in you, a void that seems impossible to fill, I’m betting it’s God-sized. 

Back to the Holy Man praying with his cell phone by his side.  In Bali, it’s a requirement that everyone claim a religion. It doesn't matter what it is but a person has to have some affiliation with spiritual connection. 

It doesn’t matter if you call it God or Universe, Source, Energy, Great Spirit or Mystery. The thing that’s most nourishing is leaning into the safety of something greater than ourselves. 

The Holy Man taught me…it’s both. The hand that holds the flower is the same one that holds the phone.

Seen and unseen. Spiritual and practical. Miracle and mess.

Our life experience is the bridge.

The elderly couple gingerly entering the cold water of Tirta Empul, just two in the long line of people waiting to make their way through. All of us hoping for absolution or insight of some kind; hoping for our souls to be washed clean, for our hearts to be less heavy, for reassurance that we got something right.

That God-sized gap seems big sometimes, I know. Daunting, ominous, a dark abyss. 

We fill it with presence. 

We fill it with hope even though we’re broken. 

We fill it with faith even though we’re disappointed. 

We fill it with get-back-up-again grit even though we’re tapped out on resilience. 

We fill it with trust even though we’ve been betrayed, with love even though we feel rage. 

Little by little the scene shifts: picture a starving child who suddenly gets a plate. 

They eat much differently than someone who is fed everyday.