Weekly Meditations

Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that ruin the vineyards
Song of Solomon 2:15

Distractions are a normal, through frustrating, part of our maturing ability to pray.  Eventually, we learn to ignore them—to realize that they are on the surface and that the place of prayer comes from a deeper place, in the temple of our hearts.  But we also grow in our assurances that the Lord is nevertheless working, encountering us at a deeper level in the soul, even through what is happening in our thoughts.

Thomas Green, in his book Drinking from the Dry Well, compares our unruly thoughts during prayer to children at an adult party.  He writes,

They don’t grasp what is going on between the adults (i.e. the soul and the Lord) and so they clamour for attention.  And the more we attend to them, the more demanding they become.  Like spoiled children they know they can get our attention by making noise.  On the other hand, if we ignore them they will eventually quiet down, since they learn that they won’t gain anything by their antics.

There will always be distractions in our prayers since our imaginations are always active.   Even when we sleep they fill our minds with data.  It is a natural process that we cannot stop by simply willing it so. But as we come more before the Lord, our thoughts become easier to ignore.  As Thomas Green writes, “As we cooperate with the stillness we are being invited to, the Lord tames and purifies our faculties of prayer.”

Teresa of Avila, in the fourth mansion of her Interior Castle, speaks of a “prayer of recollection” where the Lord Himself brings all the faculties to quiet and enables the pray-er to be totally centered on Him.  But this is a gift from God, which only comes to us occasionally.

Sometimes what we call distractions might actually be a dialogue in which the Lord is revealing, through our own thoughts, what He wishes to say or make known to us.  Green writes,

Our “distractions” are often related to the demands of our active life.  And they may well be inspirations from God concerning our choosing and acting.  The distinction we need to make in prayer is whether we are listening to the Lord or merely talking to ourselves.

If the objective of prayer is to bring all that takes place within us into relationship with the Lord, even our thoughts can serve as vehicles for this encounter.  If, however, our imagination sends us back to ourselves we have lost the basic intent of our prayer.  As Green says,

If I become all wrapped up in a discussion with myself about my problems and concerns—if the Lord is forgotten in the process—then these concerns are a distraction from our intent in prayer, which is to be with God.  But, if I bring these thoughts to the Lord and talk to him about them, then they are not really side trips.  They become the very substance of our encounter with Him.

The advice Green offers is that we first acknowledge our distractions and then intentionally translate them into the language of prayer.  He writes,

This is why I have not found it helpful to try to block out all the distractions in my prayer.  As I have learned over the years, it is better to begin the prayer by surfacing all my concerns, bringing them into the prayer and then handing them over to God saying, “Lord, these are my concerns as I come before you today.  If you wish to speak to me about them, fine.  But if not, let them pass away.”

Such an approach is a much more effective way of dealing with distractions than our struggling to stop them.  As we grow in our attraction to God we will find it easier to ignore whatever tempts us away from our first love.  In the meantime we are assured that God is sanctifying our prayer, and encouraging us always to choose the better focus for our attention.

Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.
Luke 10:42

When Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them on the road through the Philistine country, though that was shorter. For God said, “If they face war, they might change their minds and return to Egypt.”  So God led the people around by the desert road.

Ex. 13:17-18

Desert experiences are an inevitable part of our spiritual pilgrimage.  As disorienting as they are, maturity eventually teaches us to not only anticipate these times of lostness, but to even welcome them as seasons of grace where God, in a unique way, fashions and strengthens our faith.

The desert is a place of God-breathed confusion, a time of disorientation out of which new truths find their footing.  In the desert we lose our bearings.  Without the securities that used to mark our path we become more dependant on God as we seek redirection in our lives.

More often than not, the desert is something thrust upon us rather than something we choose for ourselves. Whether we are prepared for it or not, we suddenly face new variables in our lives, ones that are untried and often unspecific.   Forced to let go of familiar shores, faith becomes our only guide as we advance towards the mystery that lies ahead of us.

One of the more disconcerting features of the desert is that it often closes the door on the past.  Not long after they had set out on their journey, the Israelites pined for the days when they at least knew what defined their lives.  But the Lord made certain they had no choice but to move forward. We too must face the fact that we cannot go back to where we once were.   To the degree that we fail to come to terms with this we will not be able to fully respond to God’s presence in what lies ahead.

Like Abraham in the desert, we must, at times, leave our homeland in order to go to “to the land I will show you.”  And to the degree that we lack peace in trusting God, we will naturally hesitate and try to turn back.  The desert however removes from us the option of return.  It forces us to accept that we don’t know where we are going, or how long it will take to get there, and that we will have to place our faith solely in the fact that God does.

Remember how the Lord your God has led you in the desert for these forty years, taking away your pride and testing you, because he wanted to know
what was in your heart.
Deut. 8:2

Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.
Rom 12:15

In his book, The Empathic Civilization, Jeremy Rifkin speaks of mirror neurons recently discovered in the brain that are the basis for human empathy.  Empathy is the capacity we have to feel what others are feeling as though we were experiencing it ourselves. And for Rifkin, the potential for cultivating this capacity is what gives him hope for humanity.

Empathy is the basis for compassion, from which justice and mercy arise.  It gives us solidarity with the plight and the frailties of others.  We cry when we see someone else crying.  Or we empathize with the person who has lost their home, or the child whose feelings are hurt.  It also gives us solidarity with the plight of non-humans.  We feel for the baby seals in Labrador.  Even clear-cut logging can appeal to our sense of empathy for a denuded landscape.

But empathy, according to Rifkin, is not hard-wired.  It can be cultivated or atrophied.  As Jesus warns, our love has the potential to grow cold.  Our hearts can become calloused and lose sensitivity to the needs around us.  With our affections disordered, we no longer feel the way we should for the concerns of others.  But empathy is also something we can cultivate.

For Rifkin, to empathize is to be more fully human.  He envisions the extension of empathy to the whole human race as well as to fellow creatures, including the biosphere.  It is not difficult to imagine such an increase in global empathy.  When, for instance, the earthquakes hit Haiti, within an hour we had You-Tube videos available globally.  Within a few hours of the event the whole world was geared up in empathic response.

Another person for whom empathy provides hope for human potential is the Carmelite scholar Edith Stein who sees it as God’s invitation for us to become more fully human.   Stein recognizes empathy as the very basis for community when she writes,

Empathy comes to life when the “I” of the self and the “you” of the other emerge as a “we” at a higher level. Empathic individuals are thus able to engage a larger world than their own.

All our relationships, to some degree, are the result of empathy.  It’s what allows us to “get into” the other person, to understand and to share experiences with someone else.  For Stein, this “crossing over” to the other person is what takes place in any meaningful communication where we enjoy a moment of shared experience.

Another attribute of our mirror neurons is that they enable us to also experience what the other person feels about us.  Empathy helps us form a more objective opinion of who we are. As Stein puts it,

I get the image the other has of me, a reflection of what I present of myself to them. Such an experience of reflexive sympathy enables me to obtain a better understanding of myself. This new self-knowledge offers a corrective to the illusions I have about myself, allowing me to gain a glimpse of who I appear to be through the eyes of another.

Self-understanding then is made more accurate by what we learn about ourselves from those around us. By becoming aware of the evaluation of others, including our sense of how God feels, we are brought to question our evaluation of ourselves, and led to a more precise and mature self-knowledge.

Whoever is united with the Lord is one with him in spirit.

1Cor. 6:17

Prayer calls us from the periphery of our lives to the center of who we are; from what is superficial in us to the most profound aspects of our being; and from the illusion of autonomy to union with God as our first reality.  It is the crucible where we work out our salvation, becoming more and more conformed to the unity of Christ with His Father.

Such lofty thoughts are easier to grasp with the help of good imagery, and St. John of the Cross has provided us with a beautiful metaphor of this evolution towards unity in the image of a burning log.   In the same way that fire dries out a wooden log so that it can more deeply receive the flame, so too are we being carefully prepared for increasing union with God through the purification of our hearts.

John of the Cross likens the early stages of our spiritual life to a damp log that is thrown onto the fire.  Before the fire can claim the wood for itself it must first dry out the log.  He writes,

The fire, at first, acts on the wood by driving out all its moisture.  Very slowly, it expels from the wood everything that is inconsistent with the nature of fire.  It then starts to burn on the outside until at last it transforms the wood into fire.

The whole of our spiritual life can be seen as a preparation for the soul to receive more deeply the love of God.  And, in the same way that a dry log catches fire more easily than a wet one, so the soul responds more immediately to the impulse of God the more prepared it is by the Holy Spirit.  As St. John of the Cross writes,

In the prepared soul, the love of God enters immediately, for at each touch the spark catches fire in the dry tinder.  It seems to such persons that every time this flame shoots up, it raises them up to the activity of God in God.

John of the Cross describes the experience of unity as that of an inflamed heart caught up in the fire of God’s love.  Such congruence can only take place in a soul that has been purged from all that, in John’s words, is “irrelevant and immature.”  It is the excessive humidity in a log that prevents the wood from catching fire as readily as it should.  Similarly, the excesses of self prevent us from recognizing and responding to the movement of God within us.

This process of drying is something that, at first, we resist.  But we soon recognize its benefits in producing in us a greater conformity to God.  We become more united to Gods’ action within us.  As John of the Cross writes, the effect of this unity is that “it stirs the heart so deeply as to make it dissolve in love.”  The word “dissolve” means to loosen and set free.  It also means to combine, as in a solution.  Such is the experience of those whose hearts melt, or dissolve, in the unity of God’s presence.

And lastly, as the log becomes one with the fire, it takes on not only the properties of fire but also its ministry.  As John of the Cross explains,

In this way the wood loses all its own properties, and acquires all the properties belonging to the fire.  Once it is dry, it dries other things.  It acquires the heat of the fire and then produces heat itself.  It takes on the bright flames from the fire and then reflects that light itself.  This is all performed by the properties of the fire now that the log has been conformed to these.

Since the log no longer resists the flame, it now receives the fire deep within.  And, as the fire transforms the wood into itself, it makes it more directly a part of its ministry.

Make every effort to add to your faith, . . . for if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.

2 Peter 1:5-8

I had lunch this week with Ray Simpson who is a pastor and founding member of the celtic Community of Aidan and Hilda at the ancient monastery in Lindisfarne, England (see http://www.aidanandhilda.org).  It is a dispersed community with members living in many places around Britain and the world who are joined in fellowship by shared values and practices of the spiritual life.

One of the things Ray spoke to us about was the “Way of Life” that members adopt as a sign of their pilgrimage together.  They pledge, among other things, to a commitment to justice, to regular retreats, to lifelong learning and to a rhythm of prayer in their day.  They also commit to meeting periodically with a soul friend—what the celtic tradition calls an anam cara—as a way of maintaining their relationship to these pledges.

Since we at Imago Dei are also a dispersed community I thought that both the idea of choosing a “way of life” as well as that of finding a soul friend with whom to share the hopes we have for our spiritual life would be of benefit to us.  With this in mind I am reprinting a section from my book, Fan the Flame, on “Cultitvating the Spiritual Life.”

Consider this list of recommendations below for your own life.  Consider as well someone with whom you might partner as soul friends.  Share honestly with each other the “ways of life” that you already enjoy as part of your spiritual practice.  Then take opportunity to consider other practices that you feel God inviting you to grow in.  Feel free as well to add other expressions of the spiritual life not listed here.

Recommendations for cultivating the Spiritual Life

These rules, or “ways of life,” are divided into two sections: general (ongoing) and particular (daily).  The phrase, “as you can,” which precedes each rule suggests that you should freely accept the limitations of your life at this time.

General Rules of Life

As you can, meet regularly with a small group of people who know and share your deepest desires for relationship with God. Enjoy prayer together, communion, meditations on Scripture, and worship. Share your experiences of the journey of faith as you commit to encourage each other in your spiritual longings.

As you can, live a simple and uncluttered life. Have time for hospitality with everyone you meet in your day, especially God. Invite others into your life, your home, your journey.

As you can, meet regularly with a spiritual director or a friend who can help you remain objective about your spiritual life. Be cautious about overly assessing your sense of spiritual progress, or setbacks, on your own.

As you can, find a regular outlet through which to offer your time, money or labour for the sake of others. Volunteer to serve with a mission or some other help group. Visit the sick, care for the poor, remember the elderly and befriend those around you who are needy in any way.

As you can, continually equip yourself for the sake of others. Study, learn new skills or cultivate the gifts you have so that others may be blessed by them. Endeavour to walk each day as close to God as possible so that the integrity of your spiritual life will encourage this in others as well.

As you can, plan dedicated times for spiritual retreat throughout the year—a day, a weekend, or a week away in silence with God. If you are married, help your spouse get away for times of renewal and recovery of spiritual focus.

Particular Rules of Life

As you can, start each morning thanking God for all that will happen in the day ahead. Anticipate goodness and the Lord’s love for you in all that will take place. Seek the Lord’s purpose in everything that happens as God works in and through you in your day.

As you can, start each day with 20-30 minutes of silent prayer, remembering the ground of who you are, and of who God is in your life. Do this as a way of preparing the disposition of your heart before you apply yourself to your day. The quality of prayer that you bring to your day will determine your effectiveness within it—how you respond, how you interpret, and how you contribute to the events of your day.

As you can, recall throughout the day one of the seven petitions of the Lord’s Prayer.  Let the unique character of each of these prayers impress itself deeply on the character of your day. (see  http://imagodeicommunity.ca/category/the-lords-prayer .)

As you can, practice Lectio Divina each day—a time of slow spiritual reading and study that has as its purpose the conversion of the heart more than the accumulation of knowledge. Read a short passage of Scripture, or from a journal of spiritual wisdom you have gleaned from others (if you don’t have such a journal, begin one). Let this wisdom enter deeply as the foundation of your life.

As you can, take 5 minutes between the prolonged activities of your day in order to recollect your soul before God. Let times of rest be among the many activities of your day.

As you can, in the evening, spend another 20-30 minutes in silence before God. Review the events of your day, especially noting times of spiritual enthusiasm or of spiritual difficulty.  From what God reveals to you in these times, try to adjust your life accordingly. (see http://imagodeicommunity.ca/category/awareness-examen ).

As you can, end each day in gratitude for all that has happened—for what has been given to you, and for what God has given to the world through your life, your thoughts, your prayers. Be grateful for the simple fact of life and for the invitation you have each day to play a constructive part in the incredible story of Christ’s presence unfolding in this world.