I absorbed many books and many classes as I was training to become a theologian. I read, I listened, I wrote papers. Eventually, I was recognized as a master of theology, of religious science. But under all that effort, a different frame of mind was developing and evolving. Rather than becoming a theologian, I was slowly emerging as a geologian.
My frame of reference gradually was becoming not what was theoretically above my head, but was perceptively under my feet.
Even though I had the credentials of a theologian, I was becoming aware that the God of western christianity had died, had lost relevancy. It was not so much the work of Neitzche that sent me in that direction. It was the urging I got from Teilhard, the theologian who dug into the earth for fossils, that brought me to that realization.
Teilhard has, of course, not been my only teacher. There have been many others, including the two professors who taught me the mysteries of earth dynamics this past semester. The plants in my garden constantly bring me to a deeper kind of awareness, as well as a growing assortment of scholars in the buddhist tradition.
The books on my shelves do not exclude the world of western christianity; I continue to be interested in the work of modern biblical scholars like Elaine Pagels. But my reading has become more focused on poetry and earth science. I am constantly inspired by a deepening understanding of the mind, guided by skilled writers and my own reflection on how my mind works.
It all is centered not on what was the realm of theology, but on earth science as I open my mind to the reality of the world which presents itself to me directly . I walk on it, I touch it, I see its reflection. My own body speaks to me more clearly than the theologians ever had and with greater validity. I am becoming a happy geologian, discovering the world that enthusiastically unfolds all around me. I am finding my true home, as it always has been.