“We all have the innate capacity to manifest God because we already are that image by virtue of being created.” (Thomas Keating)
So, what gives rise to the mistaken belief that we are ever separate from Grace?
The below image is my rendering of a famous 12th-century icon, by Andrei Rublev, based on Genesis 18 and titled, Hospitality of Abraham; The biblical story where three strangers are welcomed into the abode of Abraham and Sarah.
I’ve titled it “Never Alone.” It expresses conviction and consent of God’s Presence and Action in my life, a Holy Presence which never abandons nor exiles. It suggests a relationship and a safe meeting place for communion and refuge from the worst of this world.
See the eucharistic chalice at its lower center. When I was a child, I would imagine when receiving communion during mass; the host would float down over my speckled soul; Wrap it and return it to full white divinity.
Today I hold a broader experience, imagination, and practice of prayer, Church, and our eucharistic sacrifice. I include lived experience and imagination as necessary for a deeper understanding of faith’s mysteries. For words can only point.
It is through the practice of Contemplative/Centering Prayer that I am reminded my thoughts are not God’s thoughts.
Contemplative prayer is silence, the “symbol of the world to come” or “silent love.” In this silence, unbearable to the “outer” man, the Father speaks to us his incarnate Word, who suffered, died, and rose; In this silence, the Spirit of adoption enables us to share in the prayer of Jesus. “…like entering into the Eucharistic liturgy.” (CCC2711, 2717)
When I recognize that I am ” a little more than nothing,” but much, much more than my thoughts, my feelings, my body, my spirit, or their summation, I begin to know myself deeply and this “silent love,” within my soul.
And not me just alone, but as my spiritual sister (Cynthia) in the forest calls the below image, “the great cloud of witnesses;”
A Communion of Saints
In being open, vulnerable, and heartfelt in the sharing of both light and shadow, we enter a deep intimacy, …as a communion of holy persons.
This agape, …our communion of souls is the very best of meeting places. And for me, the incarnate and deepest meaning of Church, “on earth as it is in heaven.”
Until we enter full consummation with “thy kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven,” our outer man and outer world will bear its suffering and death. It is a lonely place, but through our call and participation as a People of God in the Work of God (Opus Dei), we live a deep eucharistic (sacrificial) liturgy (CCC 957,1069).
John of the Cross, 16th century Spanish Carmelite was perceived as a threat by his religious brothers. They kidnapped, imprisoned, and isolated him in a dark closet for nearly a year. The idols in which he had cast his happiness and spiritual consolations from a lifetime of religious devotion abandoned him. Through this crucible of poverty, he had nothing to offer but his consent and trust – in God Alone.
He composes (The Dark Night)in which one is lost, (The Spiritual Canticle)abandoned by a beloved, and (The Living Flame of Love)a Love which burns. John of the Cross writes:
“The Father spoke one word from all eternity and he spoke it in silence, and it is in this silence that we hear it.”
What is this silence?
Author Robert Sardello in “Silence, The Mystery of Wholeness,” writes,
“Silence was here before anything else, and it envelops everything else. Silence is prior to sound, not the cessation of sound, it is already present.
Genesis 1:1 “Now the earth was formless and empty,…”
There is Sacred Silence before human consciousness. Before birth and after death. And sacrament in the Silence of this present moment.
I know this “formless” Silence in my innermost being, shared only with the Divine Other, my Beloved. It is where I am known and not alone.
Contemplative prayer is silence, …unbearable to the “outer man,” and like entering into the Eucharistic liturgy: …accepted only in humility and poverty. (CCC2709-2724)
++++
I set aside time in my own spiritual cellar. I stand in orans, gently crossing my forehead,“Lord, cleanse my thoughts.” Cross my eyes, “Lord, clarify my sight.”Cross my ears, “Lord, teach me to hear.” I cross my lips, “Lord, cleanse my words.” Finally, cross my heart with both hands, “Lord, heal my heart.”
I sit and recite a personalized version of 1 Corinthians 2:12. “I have not received the spirit of the world but the spirit that is from God, so that I may understand the things freely given me by God.” I am now ready.
I tap my singing bowl marking the beginning of twenty minutes of contemplative silence. I intend to sit in silence, consenting to Divine Presence and action in my life. No expectations, …only trust.
I soon begin daydreaming. And by a sacred word, I interrupt mindless chatter and return, …again, …and again. A hundred times, …returning to consent in Silence.
After twenty minutes, my timer sounds. I end with Isaiah, “By waiting and by calm I shall be saved, in quiet and in trust my strength lies.” I gently open my eyes.
I ask God to keep me aware of Divine Presence. I get up and go about my day.
Christian contemplative prayer is desert spirituality traced to the Desert Fathers and Mothers of the 4th century.
It is a spiritual practice of relinquishing (for a time) our usual capacities of sensing, knowing, and acting. It is an intentional act of humility, poverty, and Eucharistic sacrifice – of laying down the “self” we think we are.
In Sacred Silence, …an interior clearing takes place – making room for new life, not only for oneself but for others as well. I am grateful for the discovery.
As we enter this Lenten journey with Jesus in the desert, may you hear the Word in Silence.
ps. To learn more, google or youtube: Fr. Keating/ Centering Prayer.
Where can (or does) my relationship with the Beloved move beyond the limits of my own thoughts, emotions, doings and cross over into unity with the mind of Christ?
I study and meditate on scripture which is a mindful act prayer. I vocalize prayer both private and public which is a mental act of the my thoughts, emotions, and tongue. And sometimes the work of my hands are a prayer. But when do I “set aside” and consent to listen and hear the voice of the Beloved?? There are moments of grace when I sense the Wisdom of God’s Spirit although it is most often in hindsight. And then I think it only happens when it is so loud that it has to overpower the dominating chatter of my ego and its thoughts. What I do know is that it is far too easy for me to believe that “my mind” is the Mind of Christ – which it is not.
In my prayer, I am more inclined to the doing, the thinking, the talking, and the one in charge rather than consenting to the presence of the Beloved.
God’s presence is available at every moment, but we have a giant obstacle in ourselves – our worldview; which our Christian faith calls us to exchange for the mind of Christ – for His worldview. It requires a discipline that develops the sensitivity to hear Christ’s invitation: “Behold I stand at the door and knock; if anyone opens I will come in and sup with him and he with me” (Rev 3:20).
Why is it such a big effort to open the door?
Having first experienced the presence of the Indwelling Spirit as a teenager, I have never lost the sense and acknowledgment of the presence and influence of God’s Spirit in my person and life. I’ve never felt abandoned even “…in spite of myself.” But I usually fail to “see” or be in touch with the activity and the moment that God is constantly initiating at my inmost center of pure being.
Anyone who has lived enough years know that hard events in life happen and can waken us: to a letting go of attachments, false assumptions, illusions, and certain self-identifications. These hard events either harden or soften us: blinds us, or deepens our vision. I am convinced that to walk with Christ through life’s passions will allow me to see resurrected (new) life. The recent and combined loss of my marriage and vocational ministry within the Church has been such an event. The grief is and was the deepest and I am determined that it not be wasted.
The rebuilding of my life propels me to seek a deeper understanding of contemplation and solitude. It is a personal recognition and reminder of my “unknowing” and need to live in that awareness more deeply. This for me takes cultivation and perseverance. And I recognize it all as gift and Grace. The excitement of my life is learning how to unwrap this valuable gift.
For many years I have struggled with the predominate form of prayer which relies on words being spoken. Spoken words seems to be the automatic response when someone in a group says “Let’s pray.” If what God has to say is infinitely more valuable than what I (or others) have to say, shouldn’t silencing ourselves be a more fruitful response?
Spoken words require an act of the mind. And the actions of our mind is a product of many things but (almost) always a projection of our self, our emotions and worldview. This is not a bad thing, but if I am doing most of the thinking and talking, where do I allow space, consent and the wakening of my soul for God’s Spirit? How deep can a relationship go if I am doing most of the thinking and doing and failing to give consent, time and space for “Other?”
At least for me there is a tendency to fall into a way of relating to God as though God is “out there” and separate from me – Which is contrary to scripture. Even the many words and vocalizations we use in prayer point to a God who is “out there” and that can be manipulated by our petitions. And believing that more words and petitions release more of God’s love on us. That, I believe, points to the limitation of words to express the infinite.
My holy desire brings me to the life-long work of Fr. Thomas Keating and the practice of centering prayer. Largely in response to the 1962-65 Second Vatican Council’s call to religious orders for renewal, Keating and fellow Cistercian monks Fr. W Meninger and Fr. B Pennington (1931-2005), worked together in the 1970s to develop a contemplative prayer method that drew on ancient traditions but would be readily accessible to the modern world. Fr. Keating has written many related books but the title “Open Mind, Open Heart,” covers the practice of Centering Prayer (see book recommendations).
Centering prayer is a contemporary name for the practice that Jesus refers to as “prayer in secret” in the Sermon on the Mount (Matt 6:6):
“But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”
Christian Wisdom tradition, especially of the Desert Fathers and Mothers of the fourth century, interpreted this saying of Jesus as referring to the movement from ordinary psychological movement (mindfulness) to the interior silence of the spiritual level of our being (heartfulness) and beyond that, to the secrecy of the union with the Divine Indwelling. In other words, letting go of all personal agendas, expectations, and desires for divine consolations, psychological breakthroughs, and self-reflections of any kind. More recent contemplatives are John Cassian, Frances de Sales, Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Therese of Lisieux, and Thomas Merton.
What is different about centering prayer is a withdrawal of our attention from ordinary flow of thoughts.
Centering prayer suggest a practical method of entering our “inner room” by deliberately letting go of external concerns symbolized by closing our eyes and consenting to the presence and action of God within. The centering prayer method responds to this invitation:
By consenting to God’s presence and action within.
By surrendering our will completely to God.
By relating to God who dwells in secret, which is the silence of self.
This form of prayer is not superior nor does it replace other forms of prayer. It is simply another facet of one’s prayer life. I continue to pray through my internal thoughts of Scripture and dialogue with the Beloved and with spoken words in public and in private. My heart is still directed to serve the People of God.
In my home I have a comfortable place to sit and enter into 15 min of Centering Prayer with the following excerpt from Ps 22. I close with the Divine Office:
To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul, my God, in you I trust, … Make known to me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths. Guide me by your fidelity and teach me, for you are God my savior, for you I wait all the day long (Ps 22)
One of the first things one realizes when practicing centering prayer is the constant bombardment of mental thoughts. It is how the brain works so I do not think it negatively but, … it does make me wonder how much of my interactions, words, and relationships are influenced by this constant mental bombardment. I am just a beginner of centering prayer but feel this adds a missing component to my relationship with the Beloved. In a strange way it is not more, but less.
See 1 John 4:13-16 Ps. Father Keating passed a couple of years ago at age 95. The website he founded is www.contemplativeoutreach.org. There is also an app that can be downloaded to a smartphone. I use as a timer during the dedicated centering prayer period. I find it useful.
ps. The featured image of Jesus at Prayer was taken at the Jesuit Retreat Center in Sedalia, CO
“Silence is God’s first language; everything else is a poor translation.”
― Thomas Keating, Invitation to Love: The Way of Christian Contemplation
Like the deer that yearns for running streams, so my soul is yearning for you, my God. My soul is thirsting for God, the God of my life; when can I enter and see the face of God? My tears have become my bread,… (Psalm 42)
I’ve recently returned from a six day silent retreat at Cedarbrake Retreat Center in Belton Texas. It was the most “silent” silent retreat I have ever attended. It was a powerful followup to the guided online course that I had just finished on the Spirituality of the Twelve Steps offered on (www.cac.org).
The featured image (above) is from one of the many trails that were available in the Texas hill country.
I am at a crossroad in my life and needed a new and fresh “life-giving” path. The retreat came at a time when I needed to slow-down and get off (for at least a moment) what I call the “spinning wheel” of everyday emotions and distractions.
There were 21 people attending; 16 women and 4 men. We only spoke briefly to introduce ourselves and on the last day we offered a brief commentary of our experience and during our final meal together. I was able to let go of certain attachments and over-identifications. I had never felt such solitude with the divine indwelling Spirit, allowing me to weep as needed, and yet still be in deep communion with everyone else.
The retreat was focused on the practice of contemplative prayer practiced in the form of centering prayer as developed by Fr. Thomas Keating who spent more than seventy years in sustained practice and devotion to the spiritual life.
In the following 9min video, Franciscan priest Fr. Richard Rohr has a wonderful explanation of Contemplative Prayer.
Over the years, I have read much of Fr. Rohr’s writings. And during the retreat, I did a second reading of his book titled, Immortal Diamond – The Search for our True Self. See book recommendations for more synopsis.
The image (below) of Christ’s Ascension was the backdrop to the chapel altar. What is most profound is Christ’s outstretched and all embracing arms that gather us to him. It is a fitting symbol for my time and experience at Cedarbrake.
In closing, one of the functional benefits of my attendance was to experience and learn a structure for contemplative prayer at home. It has reinvigorated my prayer-relationship with the Beloved. I will continue to write, as the Spirit allows.
