When anthropologist Victor Turner visited the Ndembu of Zambia in the 1950’s, he found that much of their community life revolved around the idea of kusolola—making the invisible visible. A frequent participant in their rituals, he soon learned that they associated concealment with affliction, and revelation with healing.
For example, in one healing ritual that Turner observed, the patient was suffering from an assortment of ills, including physical aches, and misfortune in hunting. The healer, an indigenous “doctor,” called the members of the man’s village together to effect a cure.
The doctor was aware of the kinship dynamics in this village, and of the stresses that threatened to pull the villagers apart. Intuiting that the man’s symptoms were caused by these conflicts, he told the man’s kin that the grudges they held against him were the cause of his suffering. Entreating them to have pity on their relative, the doctor asked the group to publicly confess their grudges. After multiple — often reluctant—confessions, the healer finally declared the patient cured. Later, the man reported feeling better. From the point of view of the Ndembu, making their hidden grudges visible healed their kinsman.
Turner also found that kusolola guided Ndembu life in other ways. Their rituals, frequently performed for life-passages, made visible both cultural values and divine power through the display of sacred symbols. One such symbol was the mudyi tree, called the “milk tree” because, when scratched, it exuded milky beads of sap.
This tree pervaded the girls’ puberty rite. At the most basic level, the mudyi symbolized human breast milk, and the nurturing bond between mother and child. More deeply, the tree represented the ancestress of all Ndembu people. But most importantly, the mudyi made visible the sacred “river of whiteness”—a primal power that flowed constantly from God, the Creator, into the world, imbuing it with qualities like purity, good health, and strength. In the presence of this many-layered symbol, which made visible both cultural and eternal mysteries, Ndembu girls became women.
Around the world, other spiritual traditions encourage revelation of both latent tensions, and unseen sacred and reconciling forces. In twentieth-century India, for example, the sage Ramana Maharshi asked his followers, not only to directly experience their eternal Self, but also to allow their vasanas (latent mental tendencies that obstruct spiritual experience) to come to the surface. How can hidden mental habits be released, he asked, unless they are allowed to rise up?
In Christianity, individuals are encouraged to confess and repent in order to bring their discordant attitudes and behaviors into the light. For many Christians, the sacraments (like baptism) provide external and concrete signs of interior, spiritual grace. Making the unseen tangible lies at the very heart of Christianity. In the person of Jesus, it is said, the invisible God became visible.
Each time we explore the Art of Surrender, the expressive arts help us to bring our hidden wounds, latent talents, and experiences of the indwelling God vividly into view.