Contemplative prayer is an interesting thing. It is different. Looking back on the last 10 weeks covering the preparation period and beginning the Spiritual Exercises, I am finding this type of prayer to be very powerful. I came across a very good quote in a book I was reading which helps to describe it. It's a quote from St Isaac the Syrian, a 7th century Christian scholar and ascetic and hermit. He said,
"Stillness is a deliberate denial of the gift of words for the sake of achieving inner silence, in the midst of which a person can hear the presence of God. It is standing unceasingly, silent, and prayerfully before God"
I think this describes the process very well. It is a discipline; and some days it is easier than others. But to deny ourselves words for the sake of hearing God is powerful and I have found that God constantly meets me, and surprises me and there is a deepening awareness of "gift" as I contemplate different aspects of faith.
On Sunday I was leading worship and started by stopping. Encouraging people to take some time to become aware of the God who is already present. Sometimes the problem is that we are absent. It doesn't take too much time to stop and become aware and experience the Father who runs to us as we make our way home.
What is this about? Doris Day you need to work out for yourself! Things I'm concerned with - God, the church, people - how did these things become so disconnected? What has the Christ of the gospels got to do with it? Do you ever sit on a Sunday wondering? Like Brian says - it's not a religious preference - it's being a radical participant in a high commitment endeavour
Thursday, 26 November 2009
Saturday, 21 November 2009
Cryptic Blog Entry #2
Well last night there were 2 new moons at the same time which was really spooky. As with reading, seeing it, I was briefly swayed towards team Jacob but I just can't sustain it - it is Edward all the way. This is not the feeling in the whole household as I have a near and dear one who is team Jacob, and even more so since last night. The house is divided.
(To make more sense of this you possible need to read Cryptic blog entry 1!)
(To make more sense of this you possible need to read Cryptic blog entry 1!)
Labels:
Edward or Jacob?,
New Moon
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
Lessons from Qoheleth
What has become clear is that retreating in daily life can seriously effect one's blogging ability(?)/time(?).
One of the scriptures that I've been reflecting on in the last week or two is in the book of Ecclesiastes; Qoheleth (the Teacher) is reflecting, philosophically more than religiously, on the absurdity of life and how, therefore, we should live. The verses I was particularly drawn to are in chapter 3.
"What do people really get for all their hard work? I have seen the burden God has placed on us all. Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end."
It's this tension we live in - God has placed eternity in our hearts - there is the pull to something more - we recognise a connection, some greater calling on us as human beings, but in spite of this we can never understand the full extent of what God is doing. Now I believe in "the prophetic in the every day" - where God underlines something from a common or garden experience that illustrates something that he is speaking to me about. So I had a couple of examples of this in the last week.
The first one - I was at a conference staying in a hotel beside the sea. I was taking some time out before dinner to do my daily contemplative prayer - it was dark but I could still see the waves crashing on the beach - which is something I love - so kept the curtains open. As I was meditating I looked out of the window and saw the moon begin to rise above some clouds on the horizon, a huge, pink, full moon - it was an amazing sight. I heard the invitation to be attentive to this, to watch it unfolding. And as I watched I was aware of people driving cars, I could see the lights fanning out in front of them on the road; people going about their everyday lives, rushing home from work; I was aware that some people were sitting behind the closed curtains of their hotel room or inside their houses, perhaps making dinner, distracted by other things; who weren't aware of the beauty of what was unfolding in the sky above them.
Secondly - a few mornings ago I was driving over the bridge, under a steel grey Scottish, November sky, and in the middle of it was a huge complete rainbow, with a lighter reflected rainbow next to it. The thing was that it was at the back of me and I couldn't glimpse the whole thing - just glances as I drove; a partial view in my wing mirror; another in my rear mirror - but the symbol of God's love and grace was right there - I just couldn't see it all at once.
Two examples of God's work continuing on while we can only see a glimpse or where the cares of the day crowd in on us and we miss God doing something amazing. But the comfort is that God is in control, that the Creator is always at work directing his creation.
One of the scriptures that I've been reflecting on in the last week or two is in the book of Ecclesiastes; Qoheleth (the Teacher) is reflecting, philosophically more than religiously, on the absurdity of life and how, therefore, we should live. The verses I was particularly drawn to are in chapter 3.
"What do people really get for all their hard work? I have seen the burden God has placed on us all. Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end."
It's this tension we live in - God has placed eternity in our hearts - there is the pull to something more - we recognise a connection, some greater calling on us as human beings, but in spite of this we can never understand the full extent of what God is doing. Now I believe in "the prophetic in the every day" - where God underlines something from a common or garden experience that illustrates something that he is speaking to me about. So I had a couple of examples of this in the last week.
The first one - I was at a conference staying in a hotel beside the sea. I was taking some time out before dinner to do my daily contemplative prayer - it was dark but I could still see the waves crashing on the beach - which is something I love - so kept the curtains open. As I was meditating I looked out of the window and saw the moon begin to rise above some clouds on the horizon, a huge, pink, full moon - it was an amazing sight. I heard the invitation to be attentive to this, to watch it unfolding. And as I watched I was aware of people driving cars, I could see the lights fanning out in front of them on the road; people going about their everyday lives, rushing home from work; I was aware that some people were sitting behind the closed curtains of their hotel room or inside their houses, perhaps making dinner, distracted by other things; who weren't aware of the beauty of what was unfolding in the sky above them.
Secondly - a few mornings ago I was driving over the bridge, under a steel grey Scottish, November sky, and in the middle of it was a huge complete rainbow, with a lighter reflected rainbow next to it. The thing was that it was at the back of me and I couldn't glimpse the whole thing - just glances as I drove; a partial view in my wing mirror; another in my rear mirror - but the symbol of God's love and grace was right there - I just couldn't see it all at once.
Two examples of God's work continuing on while we can only see a glimpse or where the cares of the day crowd in on us and we miss God doing something amazing. But the comfort is that God is in control, that the Creator is always at work directing his creation.
The passage continues
"So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves as long as we can. And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labour, for these are gifts from God."
I guess that brings us back to the whole attentive, grateful and prayerful thing again - being conscious of the everyday things that we do - working or eating or drinking - God has made even these beautiful and we should do them with pleasure, recognising the bigger work of God which goes on always whether we witness it or not.
Tuesday, 3 November 2009
Living the Day Well
Well I have completed my 6 week preparation phase before beginning the Spiritual exercises of St Ignatius of Loyola - (see here if you want more info on what that is but it is basically a retreat in everyday life - a period where you put aside time for around 9 - 12 months to particularly seek God and to contemplate the movement of God in your life). I'm actually now in the first week of the exercises proper and this week the focus is on the mystery that is "sin".
It was really good to recover the discipline of spending time each day in prayerful contemplation of scripture. It is very much praying with what God gifts to you rather than the more familiar prayer as thanks and asking for stuff. Spending time coming to a place of stillness and allowing God to bring something to my attention from the scripture passage and then just staying with that and allowing God to unfold some meaning, revelation, something fresh; is very powerful.
The preparation phase left me in an interesting place. An accumulation of passages left me with a strong sense of slowing down, of wanting to be much more aware of the day. The bible talks about God's mercies being new every morning, Jesus asks us to focus on one day and not to worry about what tomorrow will bring. Each day is a gift and we can live distractedly or attentively. We can live in a blur of activity, eating, driving, at meetings etc. or we can live aware of the food we have and how it tastes, aware of the countryside, the colour of the leaves, the light, the sky, as we drive along. Partly I think it's a result of the stilling and the contemplative nature of the exercises. The "examen" asks us to be aware of the different feelings during the day - to pay attention to what brings life and movement towards God and what brings desolation and a movement away from God. In one of the passages I was praying with, Deuteronomy 30.15-20, God invites us to choose life and the sense I got was very much of God's joy and exuberance and gift. God invites us each day to choose life and whatever situations we face we can ask "What is God's invitation in this?"
So I am seeking to live each day more attentively, more prayerfully and more gratefully. I'll let you know how it goes.
It was really good to recover the discipline of spending time each day in prayerful contemplation of scripture. It is very much praying with what God gifts to you rather than the more familiar prayer as thanks and asking for stuff. Spending time coming to a place of stillness and allowing God to bring something to my attention from the scripture passage and then just staying with that and allowing God to unfold some meaning, revelation, something fresh; is very powerful.
The preparation phase left me in an interesting place. An accumulation of passages left me with a strong sense of slowing down, of wanting to be much more aware of the day. The bible talks about God's mercies being new every morning, Jesus asks us to focus on one day and not to worry about what tomorrow will bring. Each day is a gift and we can live distractedly or attentively. We can live in a blur of activity, eating, driving, at meetings etc. or we can live aware of the food we have and how it tastes, aware of the countryside, the colour of the leaves, the light, the sky, as we drive along. Partly I think it's a result of the stilling and the contemplative nature of the exercises. The "examen" asks us to be aware of the different feelings during the day - to pay attention to what brings life and movement towards God and what brings desolation and a movement away from God. In one of the passages I was praying with, Deuteronomy 30.15-20, God invites us to choose life and the sense I got was very much of God's joy and exuberance and gift. God invites us each day to choose life and whatever situations we face we can ask "What is God's invitation in this?"
So I am seeking to live each day more attentively, more prayerfully and more gratefully. I'll let you know how it goes.
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
"Stillness in a Hectic World"
My sister got me an early Christmas present, Ludovico Einaudi was performing in Edinburgh after 3 years absence appearing again at the Usher Hall. So Sunday night, bad back and all, we headed off to Edinburgh.
If you have never heard Einaudi then I suggest you remedy this right away and get one of his CDs. I've used Einaudi's music in worship and prayer events; as background to multimedia presentations; I think actually that on a Sunday morning we could do away with some of the mushy nonsense that passes for contemporary worship music and just play some Einaudi pieces instead; he is also brilliant if you are seeking to come to stillness before prayer. His music is very difficult to categorise and has been variously described as classical; ambient; chamber music; this time the programme described it as "the sound of stillness in a hectic world", which is perfect.
To actually be at one of his concerts is on a different level altogether. The sense of peace and stillness which pervades the place when he plays is profoundly spiritual. I've seen him 3 times now and it is an experience that is like no other. I've seen him with just himself and his Steinway and with a cellist. This time like last, he appeared with his Steinway, 2 violinists who also played guitar and percussion (brilliantly!), a viola, a cellist and "live electronics". He opened the concert with a piece from his latest CD, Nightbook, The Planets, and as we sat in the darkened auditorium the music from the piano played and the violinists and viola player slowly walked from the back of the stalls through the audience. The music is haunting and uplifting and pierces your spirit. I find it difficult to not smile throughout the whole thing.
Two (not one - two) standing ovations later; that could be it for another 3 years; he's got no more dates in Scotland this time around but you can still catch him in Birmingham (tonight!!), Basingstoke, Poole, Gateshead and next year in London, Leicester, Brighton and Coventry - if you live near any of these places - get a ticket.
So when Christmas day comes and I don't have a present to unwrap - who cares - (my lovely sister also bought me the CD cos I wasn't well) I'll just put that on and let my mind drift back to experience the concert at the Usher Hall and rekindle that incredible stillness. Ludovico Einaudi - you are a legend!
If you have never heard Einaudi then I suggest you remedy this right away and get one of his CDs. I've used Einaudi's music in worship and prayer events; as background to multimedia presentations; I think actually that on a Sunday morning we could do away with some of the mushy nonsense that passes for contemporary worship music and just play some Einaudi pieces instead; he is also brilliant if you are seeking to come to stillness before prayer. His music is very difficult to categorise and has been variously described as classical; ambient; chamber music; this time the programme described it as "the sound of stillness in a hectic world", which is perfect.
To actually be at one of his concerts is on a different level altogether. The sense of peace and stillness which pervades the place when he plays is profoundly spiritual. I've seen him 3 times now and it is an experience that is like no other. I've seen him with just himself and his Steinway and with a cellist. This time like last, he appeared with his Steinway, 2 violinists who also played guitar and percussion (brilliantly!), a viola, a cellist and "live electronics". He opened the concert with a piece from his latest CD, Nightbook, The Planets, and as we sat in the darkened auditorium the music from the piano played and the violinists and viola player slowly walked from the back of the stalls through the audience. The music is haunting and uplifting and pierces your spirit. I find it difficult to not smile throughout the whole thing.
Two (not one - two) standing ovations later; that could be it for another 3 years; he's got no more dates in Scotland this time around but you can still catch him in Birmingham (tonight!!), Basingstoke, Poole, Gateshead and next year in London, Leicester, Brighton and Coventry - if you live near any of these places - get a ticket.
So when Christmas day comes and I don't have a present to unwrap - who cares - (my lovely sister also bought me the CD cos I wasn't well) I'll just put that on and let my mind drift back to experience the concert at the Usher Hall and rekindle that incredible stillness. Ludovico Einaudi - you are a legend!
Labels:
Ludovico Einaudi,
Nightbook,
Usher Hall
Thursday, 22 October 2009
Saying Grace
Blog has been a bit neglected over the last few weeks - partly because of difficulty sitting - too sore!!
I came across a site recently called live simply - it's a site which challenges us to think about consumption, climate change, justice and poverty. It is good to reflect on God's goodness particularly as this is One World Week. Our food and other material goods are sourced from all over the world, many people are involved in producing it and we are exceptionally blessed. We really don't lack anything. We live in peace, we are free to worship, we eat more than one meal a day, we own shoes (you might want to check out the Tom's Shoes site on this issue). There are many ways we can get involved in global justice, but we might also want to start to really think about saying grace. We've always said grace before our evening meal but it's very easy to let it just slip into words and routine. The live simply site has some example graces and I particularly liked this one
Generous, loving God
Creator of the world we share
We ask you to give us today our daily bread
And as we store the crops
and fill the barns
stack the shelves
pile high the tins
and wander the aisles
of supermarket choice
Show us how to see the world
through the eyes of the hungry
Teach us how to share with all
Our daily bread
Amen
I came across a site recently called live simply - it's a site which challenges us to think about consumption, climate change, justice and poverty. It is good to reflect on God's goodness particularly as this is One World Week. Our food and other material goods are sourced from all over the world, many people are involved in producing it and we are exceptionally blessed. We really don't lack anything. We live in peace, we are free to worship, we eat more than one meal a day, we own shoes (you might want to check out the Tom's Shoes site on this issue). There are many ways we can get involved in global justice, but we might also want to start to really think about saying grace. We've always said grace before our evening meal but it's very easy to let it just slip into words and routine. The live simply site has some example graces and I particularly liked this one
Generous, loving God
Creator of the world we share
We ask you to give us today our daily bread
And as we store the crops
and fill the barns
stack the shelves
pile high the tins
and wander the aisles
of supermarket choice
Show us how to see the world
through the eyes of the hungry
Teach us how to share with all
Our daily bread
Amen
Thursday, 8 October 2009
Meditation; Psalm 139; and a Herniated Disc
Life is never dull is it?
I just started into the 6 week preparation phase before making the Spiritual Exercises.
(For those who don't know too much about this - I'd decided some time ago that this was what was next for me on my Ignatian journey and have been looking forward to getting underway - they start in September to roughly parallel the liturgical year.
The Spiritual Exercises are really a form of retreat and were created in the sixteenth century by St Ignatius of Loyola based on ordered, scripture-based meditations and contemplations. St Ignatius believed that the Exercises needed extended time to unfold and that retreatants (me) needed individual guidance. Initially the exercises lasted over a 30 day retreat period, however, St Ignatius must have been prophetic because he made provision that the exercises could also be made in 'everyday life' over a period of around 9 - 12 months.
The Exercises are divided into four sections known as 'weeks' (these obviously aren't actual weeks when making the exercises in everyday life) separated by 'rest days'. In each 'week' you are invited to become more fully aware of an aspect of God's call, and to begin the process of co-operating with it. Different kinds of prayer are explored and there is an emphasis on praying with scripture, opportunity for stillness and use of the 'examen' of consciousness. The Spiritual Exercises involve a process which aims to help you to reach inner freedom in responding to the personal call of Christ to help build the Kingdom of God. They are orientated to mission, and rooted in contemplation.
The purpose of the exercises is to develop characteristics which then become part of daily life. Firstly, better able to discern your inner desires and to see how God is working in your life and in the world; secondly, how to bring together contemplation and action; and thirdly, increasing awareness of the presence and activity of God in all things.
There is an initial 6 week preparation period, daily prayer of around an hour which involves coming to stillness (very hard for me with my butterfly brain!); speaking to God about what it is I desire from the time; reflection / contemplation on a specific passage - which is the bulk of the time - allowing the passage to sit with you and becoming aware of what particularly strikes you; then dialogue with God; a short break; and journalling, paying particular attention to feelings. Each week I meet with my Spiritual Director to reflect on prayer and other experiences since the last meeting, and to agree material for the next week. My Spiritual Director is fabulous and she really helps me to reflect at a much deeper level and draw out God's movement in my life.)
So I was about a week and a half in - very excited - when 'ping' (or something) - excruciating pain and massive agony. Just at the point I was meditating on being 'so wonderfully complex' on God making 'all the delicate inner parts of my body', being loved and cherished, never away from God's presence. It's an interesting juxtaposition to find yourself in. The things that had stood out for me from the passage was the sense of God 'knowing my anxious thoughts' and 'placing your hand of blessing on my head'. I felt very clearly the absolute love and care of God. So at 2 o'clock in the morning as I was pacing my dark livingroom (yes and weeping in agony - I'm so dramatic!), draping myself over the back of my sofa in an effort to find any relief, I had a lot to meditate on.
The question I come to - 'Is God still with me?' - 'Yes'.
'Does he still love me the same way he showed me very vividly a few hours before?' 'Yes'.
The question I begin to ask is - 'How is God there to me?'
'As healer?' - ah - there's a tricky question. I'm surrounded by people who are really into healing and it's fab - every blessing on them and their ministry - seriously - but there is a big hesitation on this one for me - I don't believe that God sends suffering to test us or for any other reason. I don't believe that God even 'allows' suffering, but I do believe that we suffer - heck I could testify to it!! I also believe God can heal and does; but I also believe that not everyone gets healed and it's not because he doesn't love us, or because of our technique or because we used the wrong words or because of lack of faith etc. So how am I to understand God - how is he here to me? I also believe that when we seek God first we're doing the right thing - and I do think there is a difference between seeking God and seeking healing.
So for 10 days of sleeping on my livingroom floor suffering, pacing, spaced out on pills that would floor a horse, (yes there was even a bit more weeping and the odd sweary word), all the while doing my preparation passages meditating on God's care for wild flowers; the fact that he sends rain on the desert places where no-one lives in order to satisfy the parched ground and cause tender grass to spring up; how he crowns me with love and tender mercies; how he draws me into a good pasture; how when I go through deep waters, rivers of difficulty and fires of oppression, he'll be there in the flood and in the fire; even how the ostrich is a bit lacking in wisdom but still has a gift to be able to run like the wind!
What is the nature of the 'How'? He is my Creator, he named me, he is always with me, he knows me, he is God, he delights in his creation and it brings real joy to him to care for it; that's just how it is and it is no less true when I'm in pain than when I'm not. And there is a security in knowing this.
Can suffering have any element of 'gift' in it? Yes. St Ignatius began his 'retreat' because as a soldier, he was wounded by a cannonball in the leg - it was an enforced confinement - probably not particularly pleasant (no horse pills in those days!). There is something to having to live differently, even in your own house, no bed, making a space to sleep, having to think about the position you adopt to sleep that brings comfort. But God is in it. He is no less creator when I suffer than when I am fully fit.
"When you go through deep waters, rivers of difficulty and fires of oppression - you won't drown or be consumed because I will be with you."
I just started into the 6 week preparation phase before making the Spiritual Exercises.
(For those who don't know too much about this - I'd decided some time ago that this was what was next for me on my Ignatian journey and have been looking forward to getting underway - they start in September to roughly parallel the liturgical year.
The Spiritual Exercises are really a form of retreat and were created in the sixteenth century by St Ignatius of Loyola based on ordered, scripture-based meditations and contemplations. St Ignatius believed that the Exercises needed extended time to unfold and that retreatants (me) needed individual guidance. Initially the exercises lasted over a 30 day retreat period, however, St Ignatius must have been prophetic because he made provision that the exercises could also be made in 'everyday life' over a period of around 9 - 12 months.
The Exercises are divided into four sections known as 'weeks' (these obviously aren't actual weeks when making the exercises in everyday life) separated by 'rest days'. In each 'week' you are invited to become more fully aware of an aspect of God's call, and to begin the process of co-operating with it. Different kinds of prayer are explored and there is an emphasis on praying with scripture, opportunity for stillness and use of the 'examen' of consciousness. The Spiritual Exercises involve a process which aims to help you to reach inner freedom in responding to the personal call of Christ to help build the Kingdom of God. They are orientated to mission, and rooted in contemplation.
The purpose of the exercises is to develop characteristics which then become part of daily life. Firstly, better able to discern your inner desires and to see how God is working in your life and in the world; secondly, how to bring together contemplation and action; and thirdly, increasing awareness of the presence and activity of God in all things.
There is an initial 6 week preparation period, daily prayer of around an hour which involves coming to stillness (very hard for me with my butterfly brain!); speaking to God about what it is I desire from the time; reflection / contemplation on a specific passage - which is the bulk of the time - allowing the passage to sit with you and becoming aware of what particularly strikes you; then dialogue with God; a short break; and journalling, paying particular attention to feelings. Each week I meet with my Spiritual Director to reflect on prayer and other experiences since the last meeting, and to agree material for the next week. My Spiritual Director is fabulous and she really helps me to reflect at a much deeper level and draw out God's movement in my life.)
So I was about a week and a half in - very excited - when 'ping' (or something) - excruciating pain and massive agony. Just at the point I was meditating on being 'so wonderfully complex' on God making 'all the delicate inner parts of my body', being loved and cherished, never away from God's presence. It's an interesting juxtaposition to find yourself in. The things that had stood out for me from the passage was the sense of God 'knowing my anxious thoughts' and 'placing your hand of blessing on my head'. I felt very clearly the absolute love and care of God. So at 2 o'clock in the morning as I was pacing my dark livingroom (yes and weeping in agony - I'm so dramatic!), draping myself over the back of my sofa in an effort to find any relief, I had a lot to meditate on.
The question I come to - 'Is God still with me?' - 'Yes'.
'Does he still love me the same way he showed me very vividly a few hours before?' 'Yes'.
The question I begin to ask is - 'How is God there to me?'
'As healer?' - ah - there's a tricky question. I'm surrounded by people who are really into healing and it's fab - every blessing on them and their ministry - seriously - but there is a big hesitation on this one for me - I don't believe that God sends suffering to test us or for any other reason. I don't believe that God even 'allows' suffering, but I do believe that we suffer - heck I could testify to it!! I also believe God can heal and does; but I also believe that not everyone gets healed and it's not because he doesn't love us, or because of our technique or because we used the wrong words or because of lack of faith etc. So how am I to understand God - how is he here to me? I also believe that when we seek God first we're doing the right thing - and I do think there is a difference between seeking God and seeking healing.
So for 10 days of sleeping on my livingroom floor suffering, pacing, spaced out on pills that would floor a horse, (yes there was even a bit more weeping and the odd sweary word), all the while doing my preparation passages meditating on God's care for wild flowers; the fact that he sends rain on the desert places where no-one lives in order to satisfy the parched ground and cause tender grass to spring up; how he crowns me with love and tender mercies; how he draws me into a good pasture; how when I go through deep waters, rivers of difficulty and fires of oppression, he'll be there in the flood and in the fire; even how the ostrich is a bit lacking in wisdom but still has a gift to be able to run like the wind!
What is the nature of the 'How'? He is my Creator, he named me, he is always with me, he knows me, he is God, he delights in his creation and it brings real joy to him to care for it; that's just how it is and it is no less true when I'm in pain than when I'm not. And there is a security in knowing this.
Can suffering have any element of 'gift' in it? Yes. St Ignatius began his 'retreat' because as a soldier, he was wounded by a cannonball in the leg - it was an enforced confinement - probably not particularly pleasant (no horse pills in those days!). There is something to having to live differently, even in your own house, no bed, making a space to sleep, having to think about the position you adopt to sleep that brings comfort. But God is in it. He is no less creator when I suffer than when I am fully fit.
"When you go through deep waters, rivers of difficulty and fires of oppression - you won't drown or be consumed because I will be with you."
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