Mar 092012
 

from Lenten meditations

Oh you who live the religious life,
if you persevere a time may come
when you finally realize
that all your performance of ritual,
all your prayer and meditation,
all your sacrifices and alms,
all your fasting and service,
have not of themselves
washed away your sinfulness,
made you a better person,
or endeared you more to God.
You will see that none of it
has brought more healing
to your wounded heart
or light to your searching mind,
let alone to the world around you.

If you do not fight or flee this realization,
you may yet come to see
why it is that others before you
have continued in these ways,
as if poets writing poems soon forgotten,
dancers dancing when no one else watches,
or whistlers whistling without thought.
Perhaps then will you begin to know
the true depths of cleansing,
virtue, endearment, healing, and illumination
that were there all along,
already flowing in and through you
and all the world.

Feb 292012
 

Many Christians began Lent last week with Ash Wednesday, but today is the beginning of Lent on the Julian or Orthodox calendar.  Traditionally, it is a 40-day period of more intense prayer, penitence, abstinence, fasting, and alms before celebrating the resurrection of Christ at Easter.  It is a fitting time to remember our communion with every child of God, many of whom suffer and sacrifice much more than others. Please join me in this prayer.


Sophia, Divine Wisdom, our Holy Mother,
when we crave comforts and luxuries,
help us remember all those
whose craving is for health, peace, and liberty.

Christ, Divine Word, our Holy Shepherd,
when we give of our wealth in alms,
help us remember all those
whose alms are their own flesh and blood.

Abba, Divine Will, our Holy Father,
when we hunger for food we do not need,
help us remember all those
whose hunger is not chosen.

Almighty God, Divine Trinity, our Holy Unity,
when in prayer we sit alone with You,
help us remember all those
whose prayer is to not be alone. Amen.

Agape

Jan 282012
 

Holy Sophia,
……You who silently moves
………upon the primordial deep,
…………Who communes with the One
……………in every moment of creation,
………………Whom Solomon the Wise
…………………praises as the grace most desired,
……………………O Paraclete and Pentecostal Fire
………………………I open myself to You.

Precious mystical Spirit,
a mere puff of Your hallowed breath
clears away the clouds and dust
from my unsettled mind
so that the dark shining stillness
ever possessing my soul
may better reflect You,
the Unspotted Mirror,
the Peace that Passes Understanding,
the Eternally Virgin Womb
upon Whom the Will casts Itself,
and within Whom the Word
is ever born anew.

Jan 202012
 

As part of my current religious practices, I am charged with praying a daily office, consisting of morning and evening prayer periods with specified scriptures, prayers, chants, etc.  The Psalms are central to most traditional offices, and obviously almost all of Christianity makes use of the Psalms in some way.  While many parts of the Psalms are quite beautiful, inspiring, and comforting, there are others that I have long found disturbing and even contradictory to the biblical warmessages of Jesus as I currently understand them.  Of course, this is true not only of my reading of the Psalms but also of other writings in both the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament; I am nevertheless most frequently presented with this challenge by this particular book attributed to King David.   I explicitly refer to King David because he was a warrior king who clearly saw bloodshed as a legitimate way to serve God.  As I dig into these issues, please keep in mind that nothing I say here is meant to denigrate the Jewish people or their scriptures or traditions, but merely to reflect upon how I am challenged by those scriptures as a member of a faith that preserves its historical connections with them.

Here is an example of such passages:

In your unfailing love, silence my enemies; destroy all my foes, for I am your servant. Psalm 143:12

So I ask myself, how can I reconcile with such a prayer, let alone actually speak it, when I have received this teaching from Jesus?

But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. Luke 6:27-29

I could simply refuse to speak such words as in Psalms 143:12, and at times I have done so.  There are Christians who essentially ignore the Old Testament because they regard too much of it as incompatible with their understanding of Jesus.  The rejection of scriptures that beg for or seem to command hatred and violence toward others is, to me, a completely understandable response to the teachings of Jesus about agape.  However, that approach also concerns me because I sense in it the slippery slope of denial about who we are as the Church, which includes where we came from and how we got to where we are.  For me to deny that violence and ill-will toward our fellow human beings is part of the Church’s past would be just as misguided as me trying to deny the racist, sexist, and homophobic attitudes of my youth simply because I want to be free of them now and in the future.  For this reason alone I can find value in frequently revisiting these scriptures, and so when I speak them it is not to voice their literal meanings but to acknowledge them as part of our history and thus part of our present and our future.   That kind of mindfulness is meaningful to me because I’ve found truth in this adage from George Santayana:  Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it.

Thankfully there are other benefits to maintaining my connection with even the most disturbing of scriptures.  At times I have found it a meaningful connection with the fact that I do sometimes feel anger and fear toward others and then, despite my best intentions, perhaps even fantasize about a violent intervention that would forever end the threat. On other occasions it has seemed helpful to think of these scriptures as speaking about the enemies I perceive in my own soul, vices that lead me to do things I regret, and about which I grow impatient and angry with myself.  Yet whether the perceived threat is external or internal, I believe that hatred and violence is not the answer. In those moments, scriptures like these can help me accept and integrate those dark thoughts and feelings and more carefully ponder the perceived threat and discern a more loving response.

Harsh scriptures also help me to empathize with those Christians, Jews, and Muslims who feel compelled by scripture to take a more dogmatic, legalistic, or militant approach in their religion.  I am further reminded of how the Bible and other spiritual writings, such as creeds and liturgies, are very much human texts, and how even the most illuminated prophets cannot help but respond to Divine inspiration in ways that are more or less affected by countless cultural and personal factors.  I strive to remember that this must also be true of my own understanding of life and the Divine, and so I try to not allow myself the conceit of feeling superior to those who “just don’t get it” the way I think I do.

In discussing this matter with a friend, it was further suggested to me that Judaism’s own awareness and struggle with such scriptures has been invaluable to the development of their culture’s social justice movements.  The spirit behind the warrior-like words of Psalms can be taken as  a combination of pleas to God and zealous determination to right wrongs, protect the weak, defend the innocent, free the oppressed, and support the righteous.  We Christians inherited that spirit from our Jewish forebears. There is a parallel to this transformation of historical messages within Christianity as well, where once hateful and bloodthirsty orders of Christian knighthood have been reconstructed as peaceful orders of service to all humanity.  I am fully aware that their existence is offensive to many people, especially those whose ancestors suffered the Crusades.  Yet, in what I personally consider to be the best examples of such orders, rather than deny or celebrate the heinous parts of their history, they acknowledged them with humility and remorse. The sword that was once an instrument of conquest and oppression has become a symbol for courageous commitment to Truth and a reminder that intolerance and violence too often only beget more intolerance and violence.

In terms of what most people typically think of as mystical experience, the practice of reciting such scriptures doesn’t seem to do much for me.   For that sort of thing, I’ll take the Rosary, the Jesus Prayer, chanting Maranatha, or sitting in centering prayer over reciting the Psalms any day.  This practice has, however, obviously helped me to become more aware of my place in the family of the Church, the “Mystical Body of Christ,” and to feel more compassion for and communion with all Christians, Jews, and Muslims.  And since I believe any awareness of love is an awareness of the Divine, then in that sense I must acknowledge that this practice, even with all its operational and discursive distractions, is mystical in its own way.

Maranatha

Agape

Dec 222011
 

In this Advent season I imagine what it would be like to be Mary and Joseph, with long days and nights on the road to Bethlehem where the Divine Child would be born to them.  Both of them know who and what this Child is, and surely both must experience long periods of silence in which they ponder their worthiness and ability to answer such a profound call.

I have thus found myself ruminating on my own backsliding and hypocrisy, all the ways I have failed to nurture the Christ Child within me. I remember the ways I have not served Love with as much truth, beauty, and justice as I might.  I revisit so many ways I have missed the mark.   Sometimes I give myself a pretty hard time about this sort of thing, yet over the years I have increasingly come to realize that it’s not very helpful, that it’s even harmful, to continually disparage and punish myself for being human.  In my experience, the intolerance of our own humanity is intimately linked to our intolerance of humanity in general.  I’ve also found lurking behind that intolerance is an irrational expectation that I, others, and life itself, should be “perfect” in some vaguely imagined way, a way that I think so many of our utopian myths try to portray.

Reflections like these have often put me in the position of seeing the human mind as a kind of dweller between worlds and perhaps a simultaneous denizen of both, which I will for convenience call the “ideal” and the “actual.”  The ideal world is the one we envision as the way things “ought to be,” the Eden to which we would return, or the Heavenly Jerusalem that we would hasten to call down upon us.  That world has no lack of compassion, kindness, beauty, creativity, and joy, and there is nothing to interfere with them.  The actual world is this one we know through our senses, where all that ideal goodness seems to go hand in hand with selfishness, cruelty, ugliness, destruction, and pain.  It may be that our laws and moral codes have arisen out of our consciousness of this dichotomy and with the aim of restraining and redirecting those negative principles so that the experience of life can more closely approach the ideal.  Yet, despite all our laws and codes, the negative principles still assert themselves, and often more within our own hearts, minds, and behavior than within the natural world around us.

One of the things I find so fascinating about all of this is how quickly we can embrace the negative principles as justifiable when we perceive that someone or something else is interfering with the manifestation of my Eden!   Living this way means being intolerant toward those I judge as intolerant, incompassionate toward those I judge as incompassionate, impatient toward those I judge as impatient, unforgiving toward those I judge as unforgiving, self-righteous toward those I judge as self-righteous, hostile toward those I judge as hostile, condescending toward those I judge as condescending, unfair toward those I judge as unfair, selfish toward those I judge as selfish, lazy toward those I judge as lazy, and so on.  Attitudes and behaviors like these are often easily justifiable when living only according to the letter of our laws and moral codes.  If someone else dares to act in a way that threatens my peace as I imagine I should experience it, then I feel justified in attacking their peace if not totally destroying it.   You know what I mean – “peacekeeping force.”  Ironically, embracing this attitude automatically robs both the other and me of peace even more!

So why do I do this?  Is it that temporarily sacrificing the good in order to destroy what I judge as evil is not only acceptable but actually necessary?  Or is it that behind all the arguments there is simply a lack of faith that good, that Love, is indeed stronger and that in the end all the sacrifices it asks of me are worthwhile?

In this season of Advent I see this spiritual struggle as one of the things, if not the very thing, that Jesus was born to address.  According to the narrative of the Bible, it seems to be the chief spiritual dilemma of Israel at the time.  Perhaps it is always at the core of the human experience.  In any case, unlike some philosophers and preachers, Jesus doesn’t tell me to deny the reality of either the ideal world (Heaven) or the actual world (Earth, or simply “the world”) as a way to try escaping this struggle.  In fact, at this moment I see this as the cross he says I take up if I am his follower.  He urges me to live as though the dominion of Heaven were coming at any moment, and he teaches me to live in such a way as to make the ideal more present and active here and now.  He was, in my clearest understanding, teaching me about a way of life, both internal and external, as a way to respond to this struggle.

What is that way of life?  In short, it is loving God and our neighbors, who are God’s children here in the actual world.

Yet how should I love?  How am I to know what is the most loving thing to do in any situation?  Where am I to turn when the way is unclear?  Jesus says to first seek the dominion of Heaven, the Ideal, by which I take him to mean I should first open my heart to the authority of divine inspiration, also called the Holy Spirit.  Paul echoes this when he says:

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit intercedes for us through wordless groans. And the one who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God. Romans 8:26-27

And yet I am not always able to clearly and accurately discern the call of the Spirit, so what then?  In these times I can fall back on the example and teachings of Jesus.  During his sermon on the mount, Jesus laid out some powerful examples of the fruits, the kinds of attitudes and behaviors, people bring forth when they are following the call of the Spirit and living in accordance with the will of God:

Blessed are the poor in spirit,those who mourn,the meek,those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, …the merciful,the pure in heart,the peacemakers….

You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you.

You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighborand hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. Matthew 5:3-9, 38-45

Paul later suggests these qualities as evidence of letting Love live more fully in and through us:

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  1st Corinthians 13:4-7

If you are like me, deep down you know the truth of these teachings, yet you also realize how very hard they can be to actually apply.  Trusting the Spirit, trusting Love, in other words really having faith in them, means subjecting myself to some huge risks here in this world.  It means the possibility of losing all my comforts and luxuries, my liberties, maybe even the necessities for my very life in this world.  After all, look at what happened to Jesus and to Paul.  More recently, look at what happened to Mohandas Gandhi and Martin Luther King Jr.  It’s no wonder that anyone who truly lives this way is regarded by most of the world as a fool or a crazy person.  It’s no wonder that I see Jesus looking directly into my eyes when he says, “Oh you of little faith….” (Matthew 8:26, 14:31, 16:8)

I’m thankful that God understands and forgives the weakness of my faith even more than I do.  I’m thankful that a little over 2,000 years ago the world received an innocent Child who would grow to inspire us to love above all else.  And I am thankful that this Child can be reborn in me over and over again, no matter how many times I betray him.

Maranatha!

Merry Christmas!

Agape

Oct 062011
 

At various times along our mystical paths, it can prove rewarding to perform a spiritually directed experiment for a period of at least a week.  Each of the activities listed below can provide meaningful and educational experiences.  You can select something that builds naturally upon strengths and talents, or you can choose something that might challenge your perceived weaknesses or shortcomings.  Because this is a time of experimentation, it is especially recommended that you try something significantly different from your usual practices. In any case, avoid setting yourself up for failure. It is recommended that you keep a simple log or calendar to chart your activity, and that you discuss the experiment with a mentor or spiritual friend at least once before proceeding and once upon ceasing the experiment.

Meditation or Prayer: There are many possibilities for methods of meditation and prayer, and perhaps a mentor or spiritual friend can be of help in making choices. See some options I recommend by clicking here.  Select a regular place and time(s) to practice.  Commit to practice once, twice or three times per day for 10, 20, 30 or 60 minutes per sitting, at least three times per week.

Devotional Ritual: Design and perform a short devotional ritual to be performed at a regular place and time(s) once or twice each day, at least three times per week.  See an example by clicking here. Consider the use of elements such as these:

  • An altar or shrine bearing an image and/or book you consider sacred
  • Placing a fresh token of faith or thanks on the altar each time
  • Bowing and/or kneeling
  • Crossing yourself
  • Lighting a candle and/or incense
  • Ringing a bell
  • A short inspirational reading
  • Saying an opening and/or closing prayer

Journaling: Spend time each day recording your thoughts and feelings about your spiritual life. This can be an activity of its own, or combined with any of the others.

Reporting: This experiment can be an activity of its own, or combined with any of the others.  Once or twice per week send your mentor or spiritual friend a written report of your thoughts, feelings, readings and other actions relevant to your spiritual life, and invite that person’s feedback.

Mindfulness: Find a time each day to mindfully perform a common activity, such as taking a walk, eating a meal, or completing a particular routine chore. As you perform the activity, keep focusing your attention on it, being as aware as possible of every action involved, no matter how minor or automatic it may seem.  It is usually helpful to be alone in this activity.

Meditative Reading: Select inspirational material such as scripture, or spiritual poetry or lyrics to read slowly and carefully at least three times per week.  Choose a short passage that captures your attention and imagination, and focus upon it more intently. Memorize it and continually return your thoughts to it until the next reading, allowing and noting all thoughts and feelings that arise in connection with it.

Nightly Review: Before you fall asleep each night, review the events of the day. The review can be from morning to night or, in reverse order, from night to morning.  In either case, consider performing it with your eyes closed so that you can visualize events as you recall them.

Dream Work: Record your dreams immediately upon awakening. Consider what messages they may have about your spiritual life.

Inspirational Artwork:  At least three times per week set aside time to try to artistically express your thoughts and feelings relevant to your spiritual life.  This experiment can be any kind of art – drawing, painting, poetry, sculpting, music, dance, etc.

Expressing Gratitude: Tell at least one person each day how you are especially thankful for her or his presence in your life. This experiment should be done in person if possible, but can also be done by phone or mail.

Anonymous Acts of Kindness: Each day do something for another person without her or him knowing, and take precautions not to be discovered.  It is much easier to do this with strangers and people you do not closely interact with on a daily basis. Try to be creative and do something that could be especially pleasing or touching to the recipient.

Virtue Commitment:  Select a single virtue, continually striving to think and act in accord with it.  Practice simple awareness and acceptance of your successes and your difficulties.  Consult with your mentor or spiritual friend if you want help making your selection.

Sacrifice: Select a particular pleasure to forgo.  Your sacrifice should be something you regularly if not habitually enjoy, and can be primarily physical, social or intellectual in nature.  You might choose something you consider to be a vice, or something that seems totally innocent and even beneficial to you in some way.  In any case, perform this experiment as an act of spiritual devotion, taking note of all the thoughts and feelings you have about it.

 

Aug 242011
 

With this post I want to draw attention to the work of healing prayer, often called “intercessory prayer.” This is something that I personally feel is a very important kind of service, and I also think it is a spiritual practice of the highest order. There are a lot of metaphysical and esoteric teachings about healing prayer, and it is central to a number of organizations, like the Order of St. Luke, the Guild of St. Raphael, and the Church of Christ Scientist. The Unity Church also has specific teachings on healing prayer. With this post I want to briefly highlight some of the elements of effective prayer that are common to such teachings.

First and foremost, it’s a common element of belief that our power is limited to serving as instruments or catalysts for healing, and that all healing is ultimately accomplished by Divine Grace. In this view, no matter what practices we employ we are fooling ourselves if we attribute the results solely to our own personal power. This is not to say that one’s own personal energies are unimportant. Rather, the challenge is to allow the Divine Will to manifest in us as a zealous hopefulness for healing and fervent faithfulness that the Divine works through us for that purpose. Few of us can ever know exactly how the Divine Will works in our own lives, let alone another human soul. Our best wisdom is therefore in giving such energy freely as an act of love, without making our hopes into specific expectations. Maintaining this realistic humility is sometimes no small feat, and the relationship and differentiation of hope and expectation is a matter well worth pondering.

In the act of prayer or meditation on the healing of someone, there are other important attitudes that tradition, metaphysical theory, and good old common sense urge us to practice. Certainly close to, if not on the same level as humility, is positivity, which relates to the earlier phrases, “zealous hopefulness” and “fervent faithfulness.” In practical terms, we are talking about the emotions, images and other thoughts we have with regard to the people for whom we are praying. While a certain amount of sorrowful sympathy may be natural and even helpful, in the moment of healing prayer we want to fill our hearts and minds with the most positive energies of love and health. We do not dwell on images of injury, disease and suffering, or wallow in feelings of pity, sadness, anxiety or despair. Rather, we imagine the subject of our prayer as receiving our own feelings of affection, courage and hope, while bathing in the light of Divine Grace, her or him smiling in happiness and health. For many mystics, our faith if not actual knowledge is that, no matter how much an individual may be suffering in body and soul, at the very deepest levels of spirit he or she is already and always in harmony with the Divine Will. We abide in the trust that whatever happens is ultimately an opportunity for that soul to learn and grow toward greater and more complete harmony.

As for methods of healing prayer, they are many and diverse. One method is the “Heart of Love” meditation I have previously provided, working specifically through the first two phases with the intention of sharing love especially for healing.  It is also traditional for many Christians to address their healing prayers not only to Christ, but also to our Holy Mother Mary, to St. Luke the Physician, and/or St. Raphael the Archangel, whose name roughly means “God’s healing,” or “God’s healer.”  There are many traditional prayers to these saints available online.

 

 

Mar 202011
 

The First Temptation

The first temptation centers on Jesus’ hunger, and at the very least it is the physical hunger he feels due to his fasting. Consider that fasting is a spiritual discipline, a practice taken on in order to cleanse and strengthen one’s soul, and we have a better idea of why the Spirit led him into the wilderness.  Anyone who has taken up such a practice knows the inner voice that offers excuses to take the easy way out, to give in to our desires for immediate gratification and temporary comforts rather than persevere in our devotion to greater principles.  That’s the first role in which the character of Satan makes his appearance, but what could Jesus possibly want that would give Satan an avenue to tempt him this way?  Is it merely physical hunger? As we saw in part 1, it’s not too hard to imagine that Jesus is concerned about the risks he knows await him if he follows through with challenging the authority of religious, political and economic powers to come between us and God’s peace.  So it is that I think his encounter with hunger leads Jesus to specifically face the challenges of the economic powers in his own psyche.

In both societal and personal terms, economic powers are concerned with acquiring wealth not merely for the basic needs and comforts of wellbeing, but for protecting oneself and one’s acquisitions, for the power to help and influence others, and also for indulgence in luxuries.  In his own hunger, Jesus must sympathize with the hunger of others.  It surely occurs to him that he can turn his energies, whether miraculous or not, to the development of economic power, all with the very noble intention of improving the lives of the poor and hungry.  Such a temptation would likely be amplified by knowing that his life and the lives of his loved ones can be made much more comfortable by taking a nice percentage all to themselves.  Perhaps in these thoughts he is not unlike many of us who aspire to make a living through philanthropy and humanitarian service.  Yet Jesus holds fast, reminding himself that “Man shall not live by bread alone.” After all, it was not in a shower of coins that God’s love descended upon him after baptism, but as a dove of  spiritual peace.

None of this is to say that economic power is in itself evil, or that we must all follow a path of poverty like Jesus, although arguments have sometimes been made for both ideas.  To me it seems a simple fact that we all need and want things economic power enables us to more easily acquire, while most of us would also agree that we can pursue such things to excess, and that to do so usually, if not always, becomes destructive in some way.  Despite the universal nature of such temptations, in the most immediate sense we are each alone in feeling them, alone in deciding how we will respond, and alone in our accountability for our decisions.  This does not mean that no empathy, understanding or support is available from anybody else, but simply that nobody else can step into our skin, into our souls, to directly encounter and manage what we’re facing.  The desire to escape the reality of that aloneness and responsibility is often what fuels a pursuit for physical and emotional pleasures to excess and even addiction.  Thus we see that vices of economic power have at their root an anxious sense of inadequacy, an existential emptiness, and an often unacknowledged spiritual hunger, all of which we try to soothe with things like drugs, food, possessions, and experiences of all sorts, including personal relationships and the acquiring of knowledge.

So, through the discipline of fasting alone in the wilderness, Jesus has put himself on a collision course with an opportunity to realize the significance of emptiness.  When it arrives in full force, his key realization is that the greater issue is not his physical hunger, which could easily be satisfied with a piece of bread, but rather it is a deeper hunger that we all share and that no amount of “bread”, literally or figuratively, can ever satisfy.  But what could possibly satisfy such an emptiness and hunger?

In some versions of the New Testament, Jesus is reported as saying, “Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God.”  This statement is a more complete reference to  Deuteronomy 8:3, which is found in the context of an admonishment to live according to the commandments of the Torah.  So a common interpretation of Jesus’ words is simply as a declaration of the importance of scripture, but there is more depth available to us.  Deuteronomy 8:3 draws a direct connection between the word of God and manna, which by the time of Jesus had long been used as a symbol of spiritual nourishment received through God’s grace.  This latter inference is most consistent with one of the central teachings of Jesus upon his return to civilization, which is essentially that the spirit of the law supersedes the letter.  In short, God’s love is our most essential spiritual nourishment.

It’s easy enough to give a religiously correct answer like “God”, or something with even broader appeal like “love”.  But if that’s all there is to it then there should be a lot less trouble in our world with angst about our emptiness and spiritual hunger and with the economic vices such angst can breed.  It seems clear that a faith based solely on doctrinal assertions isn’t enough, and here is where we find more relevance to the practice of mysticism.  While they have many differences, one thing agreed upon by existential therapies and the mystical traditions of many religions is that emptiness and spiritual hunger are facts of our being we all share, and they cannot be eliminated through any of the usual means of seeking security and comfort.  From this point, a further agreement is that, rather than trying to fill our emptiness and spiritual hunger, we must somehow accept them and come to some kind of peace with them.  By being still in meditation and mindfulness with our perceived lacking, and giving up the presumption that we can correct it, even giving up the idea that it is a wrong that needs to be corrected, we can begin to realize our emptiness and hunger not so much as a lacking, but as an openness to the countless possibilities of a wonderful mystery in which we all share.  The emptiness can thus be welcomed as our freedom, our liberation, and the hunger as our will to live it.  In learning to love our emptiness and hunger in this way, we find ourselves prepared to receive the contemplative realization of a more profound unity with the Transcendent Mystery we Christians call “God”, and this unity is Light, Life and Love itself.  The emptiness is realized as fullness.

We’ll examine the second and third temptations of Jesus in part 3.

Mar 152011
 

As often happens, another chain of synchronicities has brought a theme to the forefront.   The comments of friends and acquaintances, and my own recent experiences (including an Ignatian-type exercise related to the beginning of Lent) have highlighted the issue of aloneness for those who intend to follow a mystical path.  Over the coming weeks, I will address this theme in the context of Jesus’ own experiences of aloneness.

For just a few moments, imagine yourself as Jesus, being baptized in the Jordan by the charismatic preacher of repentance and righteousness, your cousin, John.  The water flows over you, and as you lift your eyes up to the sky you receive the Holy Spirit’s message that you are God’s beloved child.   In that moment you know you have a special mission to teach about rebirth to the peace of God’s infinite love, and to do so at all costs.  Somewhere deep inside you sense just how radical and threatening that mission will be to the powers of this world – political, religious, economic – and, at the base of it all, to the powers of the vices in the human psyche.  You have seen for yourself what such powers have done with people who were too radical, and what the final costs will likely be for you.

Retreating to Encounter Self

Is it any wonder that the Holy Spirit would lead you directly out into the wilderness to fast, meditate, and pray about this calling?  A thoughtful and cautious person might think: “Am I really up to this?  Do I really have what it takes?  I had better take some time to double-check myself, my motives, intentions, and desires, before I try to take on that kind of responsibility.”  I believe Jesus probably had such thoughts, that he walked off into the wilderness not only knowing he would be tempted, but to actually discover and deal with his temptations, allowing God’s prosecutor to put him on trial; in essence, Jesus was putting himself on trial.

Many of us have heard sermons making it seem as though Satan’s temptations were little more than formal confirmations of Jesus’ divine wisdom and commitment to his mission as the perfect Lamb of Atonement.  It is as if there were no true temptations, just staged opportunities for a barely human Jesus to prove a rebellious Satan’s foolishness.  Well, I don’t buy it.  Unless Satan is less insightful than the average con artist, he wouldn’t waste his time offering temptations that weren’t really temptations at all.  I see Jesus’ experience as parallel to the trials God allowed Satan to inflict upon Job, which were a real test of Job’s faith in the justice, mercy and love of God, a real test of his own commitment to actually hold fast to them even when it seemed God was being anything but just, merciful and loving.  As with Job, Satan’s job is to test Jesus where he is most vulnerable and, being a different man with a different life, he is tested in different ways.

So it is that by reflecting on the temptations Jesus faced alone in the wilderness, we get a deeper look into the psyche of a real human being, one with whom we can relate and feel a real sense of kinship and togetherness.  I believe that in doing so we can find his example far more inspiring and encouraging than that of a man’s body merely being used by the Creator like a sock puppet.  In part 2, we’ll consider the first temptation from this perspective.

Mar 062011
 

We are about to enter the season of Lent, traditionally a time of prayer, fasting, penitence and almsgiving that is in part meant to emulate the time of Jesus in the wilderness.  There is a significant connection for me between Jesus’ retreat and Franciscan spirituality.  St. Francis of Assisi was well know for the value he placed on retreating to and living in the countryside to commune with nature, and his rapport with animals is legendary.  He found the basic elements of nature serving as divine intermediaries, ministering God’s love to him, and providing him with avenues to praise and love God in return.  In some ways this seems to reflect the wilderness experience of Jesus, for Mark 1:13 says,  “He was with the wild animals, and angels attended him.”

As part of a Lenten experience, it can be helpful to follow special disciplines of meditation and prayer, and of further help to integrate them with devotional rituals.  Below you will find a devotional ritual for your home chapel or place of meditation and prayer that can be used during Lent, or any time.  The ceremony is based upon the Canticle of the Creatures by St. Francis, which is perhaps the first known work of literature in the Italian language, composed around 1225.  Traditional Christian imagery and movements have been added to provide a more holistic experience in this ritual.  For example, the four Holy Creatures – ox, eagle, lion and man – are often associated with the four Apostles to whom we attribute the canonical gospels, respectively Luke, John, Mark and Matthew.  They also match with the four archangels – Uriel, Gabriel, Michael and Raphael – and the four elements of classical philosophy, which are earth, water, fire and air.

Your sacred space can be very simple and minimally appointed, or furnished more elaborately if you wish, and can vary from time to time.  You might want to set up an altar, in the east if possible, bearing such items as: a cross, a Bible, a candle or lamp, incense, or flowers.  It can also be quite nice to play soothing serene music.  I find Celtic harp with nature sounds in the background to be most fitting (click for my favorite), and Gregorian chant or adagios of just about any sort are usually very suitable.

For the actual words of the canticle you can use any translation you like.  What follows is a nice English translation I have slightly edited in places, and with further instructions added.  It can be helpful to print it out to read as you perform the ritual.

Begin by setting things up, and then sitting or standing quietly for a moment to center yourself.  Face your altar and cross yourself, then speak the following words with calm reverent intent.

Most high, all-powerful, all-good Lord.  All praise is Yours, all glory, all honor and all blessing.  To You alone, Most High, do they belong. No mortal lips are able to pronounce Your name.

Imagine a beautiful dawning on the horizon before you.

All praise be Yours, my Lord, through all that You have made, and first my Lord through Brother Sun, who brings the day, and the light You give to us through him. How beautiful is he, how radiant in all his splendor.  Of You, Most High, he bears the likeness.

Look up and imagine the stars and moon high above.

All praise be Yours, my Lord, through Sister Moon and Stars; in the heavens You have made them, bright and precious and fair.

Cross yourself, and imagine a winged angel before you, a breeze blowing through his hair and robes.

All praise be Yours, my Lord, through Brother Wind and Air, and all the weather’s moods, fair and stormy, by which You cherish all that You have made.

Turn clockwise 180 degrees, the altar now behind you, cross yourself and imagine a majestic eagle, soaring over a lake of still clear water.

All praise be Yours, my Lord, through Sister Water, so useful, humble, precious, and pure.

Turn clockwise 270 degrees, the altar now to your left, cross yourself and imagine a lion of flames.

All praise be Yours, my Lord, through Brother Fire, through whom you brighten up the night. How beautiful he is, how joyful, full of power and strength.

Turn clockwise 180 degrees, the altar now to your right, cross yourself and imagine an ox cow with a full udder, surrounded by flowers, vegetables, fruits, and herbs.

All praise be Yours, my Lord, through Sister Earth, our mother,
who feeds us in her sovereignty and produces various fruits and colored flowers and herbs.

Turn clockwise to face the altar, recalling all the imagery around you.

All praise be Yours, my Lord, through those who grant pardon
For love of You; through those who endure sickness and trial.
Happy those who endure in peace; by You, Most High, they will be crowned.

Imagine a golden aura or halo shining around your head, then look down, cross yourself and imagine your feet on the soft dirt of a freshly filled grave.

All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Death, from whose embrace no mortal can escape.  Woe to those who die in mortal sin.  Happy those she finds doing your will; the second death can do no harm to them.

Look up into the heavens.

Praise and bless my Lord, and give Him thanks, and serve Him with great humility.

In His name, and unto His service, this space is now consecrated. Amen.

Cross yourself and then sit in meditation and prayer (click for some possibilities).  End by rising, offering either a traditional or spontaneous prayer of benediction, and crossing yourself a final time.

I hope you enjoy this ritual.  I have found it to evoke an atmosphere that is very gentle, harmonious, serene, nurturing and healing.   Please feel free to ask any questions or discuss your experience of it with me.   Maranatha!