Rapture: The Word and the Experience
Powerful energy is at work everywhere
How I love etymology. When I was in school, my worst subject was spelling; back when it was actually a thing because we didn’t have autocorrect. I have mild dyslexia but no one knew that. My Mom insisted I take Latin to help me understand root words and aid my brain in recognizing word meanings attached to their spelling.
It worked. I loved my Latin teacher, a passionate, tiny, older man who respected us as much as he respected the subject matter. He delivered a dead language with so much verve and gusto, caught up in its importance, one would never know it died long ago with the Roman Empire. And while he did, Mr. Schaefer seemed 7' tall, not 5'2". I enjoyed the history of the Latin language, intertwined in Roman culture and mythology, and I fell in love with the idea of root words.
This is all to say, I want to talk about “rapture.” What a beautiful word representing a powerful concept. From the Latin “rapere: raptus” — to forcibly seize, carry away in an ecstatic trance. As I pondered the word this morning, I recognized a few major correlations in my life.
Going back to my Mom… we went to the beach every Summer. I recall standing with her at the point the waves broke; I was about four years old. My Mom stood easily with the waves crashing at her thighs while I was engulfed by them. I held her hand and let the waves wash over me. For a moment, I was taken under, tossed about, loosing all control, letting nature do what it would with my tiny body. All the while, my Mom had my hand. That secure anchor allowed me to let go completely and surrender to the forces of the water.
I would pop up after each wave, anticipating the next one. I loved the moment it hit, not knowing what this particular wave would do. Sometimes I felt as if I did 100 somersaults. Sometimes I felt my feet fly away and I was suspended in the wave like Superman, feeling the rush of water against my skin. Some of the waves pushed me under and held me down on the sandy bottom. Every time, I resurfaced safely with a smile and perhaps a little more salt water up my nose.
My experience in the water was rapture in every sense. Sexually, I discovered the same feeling. With the right partner, sex became a giving over, freely and safely, to stronger forces, both the energy of the exultation and the physicality of the man. I found rapture again in surrendering to powers external to my own, letting them take over and carry me off for a moment in time.
I could tie in a more harrowing experience of being swept into class five rapids, also from the root “rapere,” — not so safely and willingly being caught up in a force far greater than myself! Bobbing up and down and pointing my feet down river was exhilarating but not the best time.
And what a distinction between “rapt” and “rapture” and “rape.” Not so fine a line representing intentions and will; benevolence on one side and selfish malevolence on the other. That is another essay.
To swing back to the uplifting, rapture is also used to describe the moment our souls ascend to meet our Source.
What a word. What does rapture mean to you? How have you experienced it?
Thank you for joining me in musings of a latin root word. I hope you were at least mildly entertained if not enraptured.
