06-05-2021, 03:10 PM
Around my way, we are in the midst of the great 17-year cicada bloom. For the month of June, millions of cicadas will emerge from a 17-year slumber, mate, and then die. It's quite the sight to behold.
The cicada reminds us of the mystery of nature. What drives a creature, gesting underground for 17 years, to emerge and face a hostile world, with no possibility of defense, and almost certain death guaranteed? Why go through all this struggle, pain, and sacrifice?
For most, the answer is obvious: To procreate. But is that a good enough answer?
The cicada does not understand the concept of “procreate”. It understands very little of its own nature. Yet, from the moment it emerges from the darkness of the underground, the cicada is driven, unceasingly, towards a mystery that it cannot possibly fathom.
It faces insurmountable obstacles, a completely hostile world, and certain death in pursuit of this mystery. Why does it emerge from its shell and fly out into the unknown world? Because it must. Because standing still is worse than dying out there.
In the morning, as the cicadas rise, they begin singing, one by one. By the afternoon, the air is filled with the rhythmic, pulsing, hypnotic drone of a million cicadas singing in unison. It is a great power, an almost defiant cry that lets the world know that they are here and they will not be stopped.
When you’re near the sound, it almost envelops you completely. And if you listen for long enough, you can hear a sort of celebration. A celebration of the mystery of the One.
We understand more than the cicada. But, like the cicada, we must move forward towards a mystery that exceeds our understanding.
To not move forward towards mystery is to go against nature.
The cicada reminds us of the mystery of nature. What drives a creature, gesting underground for 17 years, to emerge and face a hostile world, with no possibility of defense, and almost certain death guaranteed? Why go through all this struggle, pain, and sacrifice?
For most, the answer is obvious: To procreate. But is that a good enough answer?
The cicada does not understand the concept of “procreate”. It understands very little of its own nature. Yet, from the moment it emerges from the darkness of the underground, the cicada is driven, unceasingly, towards a mystery that it cannot possibly fathom.
It faces insurmountable obstacles, a completely hostile world, and certain death in pursuit of this mystery. Why does it emerge from its shell and fly out into the unknown world? Because it must. Because standing still is worse than dying out there.
In the morning, as the cicadas rise, they begin singing, one by one. By the afternoon, the air is filled with the rhythmic, pulsing, hypnotic drone of a million cicadas singing in unison. It is a great power, an almost defiant cry that lets the world know that they are here and they will not be stopped.
When you’re near the sound, it almost envelops you completely. And if you listen for long enough, you can hear a sort of celebration. A celebration of the mystery of the One.
We understand more than the cicada. But, like the cicada, we must move forward towards a mystery that exceeds our understanding.
To not move forward towards mystery is to go against nature.
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