GOD often permits that we should suffer a little, to purify our souls, and oblige us to continue with Him. . . . I know not how GOD will dispose of me: I am always happy: all the world suffer; and I, who deserve the severest discipline, feel joys so continual, and so great, that I can scarce contain them. (-Br. Lawrence)
It is interesting to me that I have been reading this book along with another book that I received for Christmas about the life of St. Francis of Assisi. In that latter book, written by Nikos Kazantzakas, St. Francis is depicted as finding great joy in persecution and suffering because he felt that it was God's way of purifying him like gold. As "Francis" was burned away, it made more room for God to fill him. For this reason, he welcomed stonings, beatings, insults, and the like because it gave him the chance to live out the love of Christ, "loving his enemies and praying for those that persecuted him" (see Matthew 5:39-42). This is nothing new. The early followers of Jesus could identify with the suffering Christ. In the midst of their own suffering, it was a pleasure to know that they served a Savior who understood what they were going through and could identify with their struggle. They even went so far as to rejoice in this this persecution. Writing to the church at Corinth, the Apostle Paul wrote, "We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh." (2 Corinthians 4:8-11) Suffering became the means through which one knew that they were a part of what Christ was doing in the world. For those in the midst of suffering, this perspective was able to help them look beyond the present to the future that God had in store for them. It helped to provide a context, a reason for their suffering and a hope for the other side. In suffering they were becoming like Christ. It begs the question, though: what about those of us who don't suffer? What about those who are relatively healthy, don't experience persecution, live middle-class lives of relative comfort? How do we identify with Christ? How do we make the death of Christ a reality in our bodies so that the life of Christ may also become a reality? What do you think?
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I DO not pray that you may be delivered from your pains; but I pray GOD earnestly that He would give you strength and patience to bear them as long as He pleases . . . I wish you could convince yourself that GOD is often (in some sense) nearer to us and more effectually present with us, in sickness than in health. (-Br. Lawrence)
Upon reading this letter, I could not help but be reminded of the famous quote by C.S. Lewis, author of the Chronicles of Narnia and many other great books. In his book, The Problem of Pain, he makes the following statement: "But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world." I wonder if this is what Br. Lawrence was getting at. I have definitely found it to be true that God has used illness and pain to get my attention. Too often, in our busyness, we miss hearing God's voice, miss seeing God's handiwork on display, miss God's gentle nudging in our lives. Illness often gives us the chance to slow down long enough to become aware of what what saying all along. Maybe God uses pain and illness to get our attention, to help us reorder our priorities, to shake us out of the delusion that we are in control and can handle things on our own. Yes, maybe pain is God's megaphone. Maybe the greatest need many of us have when it comes to illness and pain is not in the healing we so often pray for. Maybe the biggest need is for God to reorient our relationship to the pain/illness/suffering. Pain is not the enemy. Pain can be the grace of God interrupting our overloaded schedule. Pain can be the unannounced guest, who brings with it the hidden treasure. Pain can be the jolt that shakes us from our apathy, that rouses us from our sleep-walking, that breathes new life into our decaying flesh and reminds us that we are, in fact, still alive and breathing. Pain may not be the enemy we try so hard to avoid, but the messenger of God we bend over backwards to welcome. What is your experience with pain/illness? How has God used pain/illness in your life? Has it drawn you closer to God or pushed you away? Perhaps M. -- was too much attached to him he has lost. We ought to love our friends, but without encroaching upon the love of GOD, which must be the principal. (-Br. Lawrence)
As I thought more about this connection to hospitality today, I remembered another passage from Henri Nouwen's book, Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life, that is closely connected to Br. Lawrence's comments about the man who had experienced great loss. True hospitality, Nouwen argues, requires a certain distance, a willingness to offer the guest solitude in order to create that needed space. This solitude is in direct contrast to loneliness, which grabs and holds and demands rather than letting go and offering freedom. Rather than offering much comment on it, I just want to quote a passage from Nouwen's book: "The movement from hostility to hospitality cannot be thought os without a constant inner connection with the movement from loneliness to solitude. As long as we are lonely, we cannot be hospitable because as lonely people we cannot create free space. Our own need to still our inner cravings of loneliness makes us cling to others instead of creating space for them. "I vividly remember the story if a student who was invited to stay with a family while studying at a university. After a few weeks he realized how unfree he felt and slowly became aware that he was becoming the victim of the crying loneliness of his hosts. Husband and wife had become strangers to each other and used their guest to satisfy their great need for affection. the hosts clung to the stranger who had entered their house in the hope that he could offer them the love and intimacy that they were unable to give to each other. So the student became entangled in a complex net of unfulfilled needs and desires, and felt caught between the walls of loneliness. He felt the painful tension of having to choose between two lonely partners and was being pulled apart by the cruel question: are you for him or for me? Are you on her side or on mine? He no longer felt free to go and come when he wanted; he found himself gradually unable to concentrate on his studies while at the same time powerless to offer the help his hosts were begging for. He had even lost the inner freedom to leave. "This story illustrates how difficult it is to create free space for a stranger when there is no solitude in our lives. When we think back to the places where we felt most at home, we quickly see that it was where our hosts gave us the precious freedom to come and go on our own terms and did not claim us for their own needs. Only in a free space can re-creation take place and new life be found. The real host is the one who offers that space where we can listen to our own inner voices and find our own personal way of being human. But to be such a host we have to first of all be at home in our own house." (Reaching Out, p. 101-102) Feel free to offer your own thoughts on how this might realate t He is always near you and with you; leave Him not alone. You would think it rude to leave a friend alone, who came to visit you: why then must GOD be neglected? (-Br. Lawrence)
When I read this letter, I couldn't help but think about the connection here to the practice of hospitality. One of the most important and widespread of Christian disciplines, the practice of hospitality is about much more than a clean house, cold drinks, and light conversation about the weather. Henri Nouwen describes it this way: "At first the word "hospitality" might evoke the image of soft sweet kindness, tea parties, bland conversations and a general atmosphere of coziness. Probably this has its good reasons since in our culture the concept of hospitality has lost much of its power and is often used in circles where we are more prone to expect a watered down piety than a serious search for an authentic Christian spirituality." (Reaching Out, p. 66) Nouwen defines a Christian approach to hospitality as a movement away from hostility and towards brotherhood. In fact, he says that it "is our vocation: to convert the hostis into a hospes, the enemy into a guest and create the free and fearless space where brotherhood and sisterhood can be formed and fully experienced." (Reaching Out, p.66) Hospitality is, therefore, creating a space where transformation can take place. Too often, however, we fall prey to the temptation to fill this empty space. We are fearful of silence and emptiness. We are uncomfortable just being in the presence of another, so we fill the space with shallow conversations about inconsequential things. Our prayers can be a lot like this. Too often, we ramble on, filling the empty space and thereby choking off any chance of real transformation. I really believe that Br. Lawrence is calling us to a practice of hospitality. He is calling us to a place where we make room (create a space) for God to enter into our lives on a regular basis. He is calling us to fight the temptation to fill that space, but to allow room for transformation. We must allow room for God to speak, to move, to convict, to teach, to love us. This is what we see in Mary, sitting at the feet of Jesus while Martha fills the space with busyness (see Luke 10:38-42). We must also extend this hospitality to ourselves, treating ourselves gently when we fail to meet expectations rather than beating ourselves up over every little fault. We must create space in our life for our own transformation, not filling it constant busyness. We must treat God and ourselves as welcomed guests, allowing our lives to experience the movement from hostility to hospitality. What has been your experience with hospitality? Have you seen a connection between hospitality and prayer in your own life? (Let us know about it by leaving a comment.) She seems to me full of good will, but she would go faster than grace. One does not become holy all at once.
This must be speaking to me, because I can be the most impatient person in the world at times. I have a habit of being inspired by something, then going for it head first, expecting to become an expert overnight. I think, at our heart, we all wish our life was characterized by the Burger King slogan, "Your way, right away." The spiritual life just doesn't seem to work like this, however. The metaphor of a baby growing up is a good one. Think of this way - no one would expect a baby to go from womb to adult in one night, one week , one month, even one year. No, it takes years and years to grow from infant to mature adult. The same is true of the spiritual life as well. We may be an adult physically, but an infant in the faith. It takes time. I can't help but think of the following quote, attributed to Ralph Waldo Emerson, when I think about spiritual development: Sow a thought and you reap an action; sow an act and you reap a habit;s ow a habit and you reap a character; sow a character and you reap a destiny. In fact, Br. Lawrence seems to lay out a similar path as a summary of this practice that he is teaching. He says: . . . let us then pray to Him for it continually. How can we pray to Him without being with Him? How can we be with Him but in thinking of Him often? And how can we often think of Him, but by a holy habit which we should form of it? So, we don't just decide today that we are going to pray continually and automatically become successful at it, instantly achieving spiritual maturity. No, we develop a habit of thinking of God. This takes place more and more often. As we think of God, we enter into the presence of God. As we cultivate living our life in God's presence, our lives become a continual prayer to God. This is the practice in a nutshell. It's simple, but difficult. It's difficult, but worth it. What are waiting for? Get started today. I do not advise you to use multiplicity of words in prayer; many words and long discourses being often the occasions of wandering: hold yourself in prayer before GOD, like a dumb or paralytic beggar at a rich man's gate: let it be your business to keep your mind in the presence of the LORD. If it sometimes wander, and withdraw itself from Him, do not much disquiet yourself for that; trouble and disquiet serve rather to distract the mind, than to re-collect it; the will must bring it back in tranquillity; if you persevere in this manner, GOD will have pity on you. (-Br. Lawrence)
When it comes to prayer, I must admit that I am not a natural. Prayer is something that I have to work at. Throughout my spiritual journey, I have had times of great consistency in regular prayer and many times where I just didn't make time. (I can honestly say, however, that the times when I've grown the most have been those when I made regular prayer a priority - a scheduled part of the day.) I really like some of the advice Br. Lawrence gives in this letter because I can identify with it. My mind seems to go "90 to nothing" when I try to slow down for time with God. All the things that I had meant to put on my "to do" list for the day flood into my mind, I start thinking about something I've been reading, I start daydreaming. I've found that I'm not that good at stopping early in the morning for an hour of uninterrupted prayer. I have learned a few things that have helped me, though, so I'll share them for those who might find it useful. 1. Schedule prayer. I find that if I put some time on the calendar or agenda for the day, I am more likely to actually make it a priority. I will never "get around to it," so I schedule it. Maybe this could be seen as being legalistic and "checking it off my list" for the day, but the way I see it: if it's important, you'll make time for it. 2. Breath prayers. I wrote about this a couple of days ago (see reflection on Third Letter), but taking Br. Lawrence's advice, I often try to keep to short prayers that I say throughout the day rather than one long prayer. 3. Body prayers. I find that it is helpful for me to pray with my whole body. Maybe this means praying while kneeling, while laying prostrate on the floor, while holding something that reminds me of God, prayer walking, or many other ways. I find it helpful to engage my body as well as my mind and spirit. (A couple of books that I've found helpful in this are Body Prayer by Padgitt and Prill and Praying With the Body by Roy Deleon.) 4. Keep a pad of paper nearby while praying. Since I always tend to think of a thousand things I "need" to do while praying, I sometimes keep a pad nearby. When a thought comes up, I don't fight it, I just stop for a moment, write it down, and return to my focus on God. I don't beat myself over this, I just try to refocus gently. 5. Doodling prayer. One practice I've started more recently is that of "Praying in Color." An idea I read about in the book, Praying in Color by Sybil MacBeth, this is a kind of prayer through doodling. Although you don't have to be an artist to pray in this manner, I have found that it really allows me to be creative in my prayers in a rich and wonderful way. (MacBeth has a good introduction to the practice on her website: Praying in Color.) 6. Pray the Daily Office. Throughout the history of the Church, people have stopped at certain times throughout the day to say prescribed prayers. These are usually prayers that are written down, but have special meaning for a particular community. It may be as simple as saying the Lord's Prayer three times a day or as elaborate as meeting together to chant the psalms five times a day. If you are interested in a place to start on this idea of the Daily Office, try praying the Lord's Prayer in the morning, noon, and evening, really focusing on what you are saying and its meaning. Or, try this website put up by a friend of mine in the New Monasticism - it has prayers for each day (Common Prayer - not be confused with the Episcopal Church's Book of Common Prayer). Now, before anyone else points it out, I fully recognize the seeming disconnect between this post and my reflection on Br. Lawrence's first letter. There, he talks about getting overwhelmed by all the diverse practices of the spiritual life. My own little list might fall into just that category. I don't see this as disconnected, however. The main thing is to know that these are all only tools. The goal of each of them is to help us find a meaningful way to connect with God. If you have that, awesome. If not, try one of these out and see if it is helpful. In the end, we just want to find a way to "pray continually, giving thanks in all circumstances." What about you? What practices have you found helpful in your prayer life? Post them in the comments section (click on "comments" below the title). He requires no great matters of us; a little remembrance of Him from time to time, a little adoration: sometimes to pray for His grace, sometimes to offer Him your sufferings, and sometimes to return Him thanks for the favors He has given you, and still gives you, in the midst of your troubles, and to console yourself with Him the oftenest you can. (-Br. Lawrence)
We really like heroes in our culture. I can remember growing up and loving superheroes - Superman, Batman, Spiderman, etc. We love the guy (or girl) who swoops in, defeats the bad guy, and saves the day. We love biblical heroes as well: David slaying Goliath, Samson destroying the temple, Elijah defeating the prophets of Baal by calling down fire to consume the waterlogged offering. These are the stories legends are made of, as the saying goes. I think most of us, whether we would admit it or not, wonder whether we could make the tough choices in a situation like this. We wonder whether or not we could be heroes as well. We wonder what our response would be, if we had been asked the same question as the rich young ruler - would we be able to sell everything we have to follow after Jesus? We wonder about Jesus' statement, "Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends" (John 15:13). If given the chance, would we be able to lay down our life to save a friend or loved one? In reality, most of us will never know the answers to these questions. We will never be put in a situation that requires us to make such "heroic" decisions. Br. Lawrence seems to be reminding us that growth in spiritual maturity isn't about these life or death, all or nothing choices, anyway. "Practicing the Presence" may not lead us to sell everything to follow Jesus, but it may call us to give up that Venti White Chocolate Mocha at more than $4.00 a pop in order to provide a meal for a homeless veteran in our community. We may not be called to lay down our life for someone, but we may be called to give up a Saturday to volunteer to help build a house for a family in need. Unless you live in a prime time television melodrama, life is not primarily made up of heroic decisions. It's made up of 1,000 little, innocuous decisions that we don't think about during the day: Where am I going to eat? Do I really need to upsize my combo? Who am I going to call today? How do I treat the cashier at the grocery store? Am I going to watch t.v. or spend time with family? Am I going to mindlessly sit in traffic or use this time for prayer? Am I going to bury myself in a magazine or take a walk and enjoy God's creation? Am I going to memorize the stats of the latest Heisman trophy winner or memorize a bit of God's Word? Am I more concerned about the latest Hollywood gossip or what is going on in the life of neighbor who is struggling? They're little decisions that add up every single day. God may not be calling you to a heroic life, but he's calling you to follow him with humility and faithfulness - and those that do are heros in my book any day. For my part I keep myself retired with Him in the depth of center of
my soul as much as I can; and while I am so with Him I fear nothing; but the least turning from Him is insupportable. (-Br. Lawrence) Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (-Apostle Paul; Philippians 4:4-7) I can't help but think that that these passages are closely linked. I once heard a pastor talking about the "peace that surpasses understanding" in this way (and I paraphrase): Have you ever thought about the ocean in a storm? On the surface, things may be going crazy: waves crashing, swells, rain, winds, lightening, thunder. It can be a really scary place. But, if you go just a couple hundred feet below the surface, things are completely different. The water below the surface is relatively unaffected by the storm. Just a little ways down, there is peace and calm and stillness. "I keep myself in the depth of center of my soul as much as I can" Br. Lawrence writes. When our lives are grounded in Christ; when we center our lives in the depths - below the surface chaos - we find there a "peace that surpasses understanding," a life free from the tyranny of fleeting anxiety, a joy that will not easily abandon us. This is my hope for my life (and yours) as we go on this journey together this year. My prayer is that as we live with mindfulness, we will begin to live, more and more, with depth as well - that we will not be thrown to and fro by troubles that are here today and gone tomorrow, but that we will live out of a rich wellspring of life that is bubbling up within us. My prayer is that we may know the peace the Apostle Paul is talking about. My prayer is that we me know the freedom from fear to which Br, Lawrence refers. My prayer is that each new day will become a day of resurrection, a day where we are "born again" into God's kingdom and into his presence. My prayer is that we will bring that kingdom into tangible reality in our church and in our community, drawing others into a deeper, fuller, more mindful life, to the glory of God. Amen. I know that for the right practice of it, the heart must be empty of all other things; because GOD will possess the heart alone; and as He cannot possess it alone, without emptying it of all besides, so neither can He act there, and do in it what He pleases, unless it be left vacant to Him.
Maybe it is the fact that Br. Lawrence refers in this letter to a sister who is just taking her vows to become a nun, or something about the passage above, but today's reading draws my mind to the person of St. Francis of Assisi. I have always had a fascination with Francis and have read and studied quite a lot about him. One of the key feature of his life and the religious order that he founded is an insistence on complete poverty (for the individual and for the order as a whole). Murray Bodo, a Franciscan Friar, Priest, and Author, describes it this way: ". . . for Francis violence and the will to exclude others and harm them is intimately tied to possessiveness. He tells his brothers that if they have possessions, then they will need arms to defend them . . . Francis' antidote to war is poverty, which frees him and his followers to embrace and include and give. They have no need to be defensive because they have nothing to defend" (The Way of St. Francis, p. 7). I think this has something to do with what Br. Lawrence is talking about. When we come to God with a goal in mind - some level of spirituality that we are trying to achieve - we often fill the space in which God desires to dwell with our own ambition. Likewise, if there are resentments that we hold, can we expect God to completely fill us? If we come to God with our plans already laid, expecting God to bless them, how can we be certain that we are not missing the voice of the Spirit calling us to something altogether different? If we with with our fists clenched around anything, they cannot be open, ready to receive what God has in store. Jesus said, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 5:3). If we come to God in complete poverty, we can do nothing apart from God intervening. It necessitates a filling from God. We can be present to God, present to others, present to ourselves, because we have no agendas, no hidden motives, no divided loyalties. I must confess: this is very attractive to me, but I'm not there yet. But today, I choose to "make the next right choice," the next baby step on the road there. What about you? He complains much of our blindness; and cries often that we are to pitied who content ourselves with so little. GOD, says he, has infinite treasure to bestow, and we take up with a little sensible devotion which passes in a moment.
Reading this today took me back to a memory from college. We were very close to the pastor of our church in college. It was a very large church, with a large staff. During the time we were there, they were looking for a "college pastor." Since the senior pastor knew how important this age was to young adults, he took time out of his schedule to spend time with us, invest in our lives, a. Dr. Register loved Caleb in the Bible. I remember more than one occasion that Caleb became the subject of his lesson. During one of those lessons, he made this comment (and I paraphrase), "My biggest fear is that one day I will get to heaven, stand before the Lord, only to hear him say, 'Why were you satisfied with so little? I wanted to do such great things through you, but you were content with so much less.'" Are we content with a little faith serving as the garnish for our lives? Are content to dabble in the spiritual? Is our discipleship to Jesus a part of our lives or are our lives a part of our discipleship? If is calling us to come to him, so that we may be filled to overflowing, are we bringing with us a little paper cup or a 55 gallon drum? Just some thoughts to ponder. I know I have been today. |
Ecclesia Writer's ConsortiumWe are blessed at Ecclesia to have a number of gifted writers and teachers. Here, you'll find devotions, meditations, and musings from a sample of those writers. Archives
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