The calling of a name identifies a particular other. It focuses attention & begins conversation. The calling of a name initiates movement in a particular direction.
To be immersed in the focused speaking of a name, a discordant cacophony of a multitude speaking as a community. To be immersed is to stand and let a unique bounded moment unfold around you.
The other evening was the first night of Idul Fitri – an all night of muslim prayer marking the end of the fasting month.
I was standing on a roof - in the anonymity of the night. Here & there the mere suggestion of shapes & surfaces marked my particular place in the world but my hearing told me otherwise. I was immersed in a uniquely bounded moment of a tremendous speech act, a multitudinous calling of the name of the One. From the front, now behind, to the side, the other side… an unbroken multi-vocal charge of different utterances converging, rising to crescendo then falling again… a creative gaggle of voices congregating around the speaking of the name of the One.
Yet there is a contrast, another speech act. It is the unending calling forth of my name by the One. It is a creative utterance that is uniquely unbounded - a self-involving moment. It calls me out from the anonymity of the night & into a world of light and encounter with particular others. It calls me to become familiar with the cadences of particular voices, engaging in a particular situation, immersed in particular stories.
Like the smoke of burning leaves that is a barb to my eyes or the pungent sickly smell of rotting garbage that taunts my nostrils. To be immersed in the speech act with particular others begins in speaking words with little meaning, the sounding of which is harsh and unfamiliar. To remain in the creative gaggle of continuing conversation in context after different context etches out a new space of meaning shared. I am shaped & held by the words and the stories of particular others. The stretch of it building & intensifying my presence in the world & my relation to the One.
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