Contemplative prayer 101 -background, history and Lectio Devina

"these are the things God has revealed to us by his Spirit. The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God" — 1 Corinthians 2:9-10.     

The first session in the series was back on September 28th. It touched on the background and history of Contemplative prayer (To save you the trouble of googling click here!) along with the basic precepts of it. We also talked about some of the key players in its history and its current state.

I myself was first introduced to the idea of contemplative prayer as a structured part of a daily devotional practice sometime in 1996, and in the spring of that year I attended my first silent retreat led by Cynthia Bourgeault. (Check her out here) I encourage you to search for her presentations on Youtube (This is a fairly recent video) and/or read any of her books on the subject.  She is delightful and wise.

I was able to attend several of her weekend  retreats in the years that she spent in this area, as well as two led by her own mentor, Father Bruno Barnhart. Bruno is a Camaldolese-Benedictine monk of New Camaldoli Hermitage in Big Sur, California. He is the author of many books including The Good Wine: Reading John from the Center. (for a full list go here) It was from listening to him that I saw a very concrete fruit from time spent in silence with God; he speaks in the most articulate fashion I have ever heard. It is something to do with the time he spends not thinking and then using the time he is with people to just be a conduit of the words that are given to him, without all of his stuff in the way.  Would that I could.

What Cynthia, and the movement she is central to, (as the founder of the Contemplative Society - ( this is their website)) talk about is "Centering Prayer." It is what was first called Contemplative Prayer or Silent prayer, and I am of the opinion that it does not matter what you call it, it is that you make the attempt to do it. My favourite poetic name for it is Practising the Presence of God.  Another book I will recommend is called just that, and the author's name is Brother Lawrence. (Awesome book!) It is a collection of letters he wrote to a young monk who wondered at this man's ability to find peace and satisfaction in the most tedious of tasks.

There were two primary factors that led to the desire to do this series at this time.  About two years ago, I started watching the growing epidemic of addiction to electronic devices with ever-increasing unease. Even in my own life and the lives of my nearest and dearest they fill every waking hour until the ability to hear your own thoughts, never mind what God has to say to you, is almost impossible.
As I dwelt in thought on this growing phenomenon, I wondered what the antidote would be. At the same time I was also curious about the ever increasing western fascination with Eastern traditions such as Buddhism, Zen philosophy, and yogic practices.  Every magazine you open, even the health portion of the nightly news, is full of articles proclaiming the many benefits to be found meditating and doing yoga.  It is extremely hip to be a Buddhist.  Not so much to be a contemplative Christian. Why that might be is for another time, suffice it to say that the concept of Western Christianity seems very out of touch with our current modern culture, and in the marketplace of self-help, ready-made peace and inner wellness, Eastern traditions are easily trumping anything that can be found in the mainstream Christian church.

I was fairly young when I was first drawn to the idea of silence as it relates to prayer.  It might be a very ancient path in the church, but in my late 20s I found it to be very intriguing.  Here was this time-honoured tradition that was accessible to me. Like being told you could go back in time and then bring something home with you and make it fit into your modern world.  It is a true reflection for me of the expression, "God - the same yesterday, today and tomorrow."  It was comforting to me to know that I was entering a stream of Christian tradition that has remained essentially unchanged yet flexible from approximately the 6th century.  It may seem a contradiction in terms to look back at the past in order to embrace something that I am saying can be fresh and new, but as a dear friend said, “Sometimes reflecting on the past makes the future more clear and less frightening.  You don’t feel as alone.”  I feel that way when I know that the pioneers of this tradition were real people just living real lives and that what they taught wasn’t just a passing trend.
It was St. Benedict of Nursia (480 to 543)(more about him here) that first established the practice of Lectio Devina,(more fully explained here) which is important to know something about because it is this practice that contains the tradition of Contemplative Prayer as we know it today.  St. Benedict is considered the founder of western monasticism, but it was Guigo II,(info on him here) a Carthusian monk,who died late in the 12th century that formalised the four-step process of Lectio Devina in a book called The Ladder of  Monks.
In Guigo's four stages one first reads, which leads to think about (i.e. meditate on) the significance of the text; that process in turn leads the person to respond in prayer as the third stage. The fourth stage is when the prayer, in turn, points to the gift of quiet stillness in the presence of God, called contemplation.
Guigo named the four steps of this "ladder" of prayer with the Latin terms lectio, meditatio, oratio, and contemplatio.
Nowadays in most monastic houses you won't find that any one monk does these steps in a linear fashion, but they are there for a reason.  They are all aids to getting to the heart of time with God, time in his centre with nothing in the way.  I find it helpful to go through each one of them as a way to quiet both the body and the mind to reach a time of silence gently and not be too overwhelmed by it. Put much more eloquently by John of the Cross:

"Seek in reading and you will find in meditation; knock in prayer and it will be opened to you in contemplation" — The four stages of Lectio divina as taught by John of the Cross (1542 –1591).(click this!)

So for many centuries all of this wisdom and this very rich knowledge just stays put in monasteries and cloisters. It is out of reach of the laity and the everyday Christian. But around 1975, three Trappist monks begin a movement that brings this tradition out of the monastic houses and into the church proper. The most well known of the three is Thomas Keating (born 7th March 1923)(Brother Keating info), known as one of architects of Centering Prayer, (more about that here, in particular scroll down to the heading called "Practice" and you will see 4 point set of guidlines by Basil Pennington on the physical practice of it) a contemporary method of contemplative prayer, that emerged from St. Joseph's Abbey, Spencer, Massachusetts.

It is this new emergence and accessibility that brought people like Bruno Barnhart and Cynthia Bourgeault into prominence in this area, and into 2013 there are new authors appearing in the New Monastic movement which looks to cement even further this idea that we all have inherited this wisdom and it is not for keeping in stale, old monasteries, but in our churches (no matter what the denomination), in our homes, driving in a car, or wherever you find yourself in need of plugging in with God rather than your cell phone. I think that if you have found yourself drawn to some part of this, God probably has something specific to say to you about the relationship He wants to have with you and a devotional practice that can bear unexpected fruit for you.

It is apparent that each new generation finds something fresh and relevant in this ancient tradition, although the language might seem intimidating at first. We invite you to explore it with us next Saturday, October 26th when we will talk a little bit about how to get at some of the emotional, social, or cultural issues that keep us from being comfortable with silence, as well as exploring how the Psalms can act as a foundation on which to place what is sometimes an ethereal experience.

Dialogue, Debate and/or Discussion

The following post is from several years ago. But i had it stored in a different blog and wanted to move it here to be reminded of it:

I found out something I did not know today! I have always believed that I valued and appreciated discussion above debate. However, upon researching the difference today, I stumbled upon the reality for myself, which is, I do not really like either one.
The verbal dynamic that I have heretofore thought of as "discussion" is actually "dialogue". For the purposes of clarity and just to lay out the differences and convergences of all three, I have put an explanation I found most useful below. It  is from a site called "socratic seminars". It was just a point by point chart really, but very clear and, as it says, it is not a discussion as to whether there is a good or a bad way to go about this, there are just differences. Where the difficulty lays (and the trap for humans in relationship with each other to be careful about) is in knowing whether they are all participating in the same thing. I mean, it is no good to anyone if you think you are having a debate and someone in the same conversation thinks they are entering into dialogue or vice versa. Sometimes this runs along gender roles and sometimes it runs along philosophical ideologies. Anyway, have a look. Maybe you'll learn something too! I know I did. :)



Dialogue
Debate and/or Discussion

Dialogue is collaborative; cooperative; multiple sides work toward a shared understanding
Debate is competitive and/or oppositional; two (or more) opposing sides try to prove each other wrong; sometimes Discussion can move in this direction as well

In dialogue, one listens to understand, to make meaning, and to find common ground
In debate, (and sometimes discussion) one listens to find flaws, to spot differences, and to counter arguments

Dialogue enlarges and possibly changes a participant's point of view
Debate defends assumptions as truth; in discussions, participants may tend to "dig in"

Dialogue creates an open-mined attitude; an openness to being wrong and an openness to change
Debate creates an close-minded attitude, a determination to be right;

Discussion often tends to lead toward one "right" answer

In dialogue, one submits one's best thinking, expecting that other people's reflections will help improve it rather than threaten it
In debate, and often discussion, one submits one's best thinking and defends it against challenge to show that it is right

Dialogue calls for temporarily suspending of one's beliefs
Debate, and sometimes discussion, calls for investing wholeheartedly in one's beliefs

In dialogue, one searches for strengths in all positions
In debate, and sometimes discussion, one searches for weaknesses in the other positions

Dialogue respects all the other participants and seeks not to alienate or offend
Debate rebuts contrary positions and may belittle or deprecate other participants; a discussion gone awry may end up this way as well

Dialogue assumes that many people have pieces of answers and that cooperation can lead to a greater understanding
Debate assumes a single right answer that somebody already has

Dialogue remains open-ended
Debate demands a conclusion

Dialogue is mutual inquiry; collective knowledge
Discussion is individual opinions; individual knowledge

Dialogue practices a product
Debate and discussion produce products

Dialogue is divergent
Debate, and often discussion, is convergent


Note:
The differences between and among dialogue, discussion, and debate should not imply that dialogue is "good" and that discussion and debate are "bad." There are certainly times when discussion and debate are useful instructional strategies. The chart above is simply intended to articulate the differences.

Wells, Nevada

I fell asleep last night with a little girl resting in my arms.
She's a grown woman, but she's a little girl.

She may not have known she was in them, but in my mind's eye, I remembered what it was like, what it felt like to hold my own daughter across my lap in a rocking chair till she fell asleep and I just put us together in one, right there in Wells, Nevada.

She was right beside me
She was almost a thousand miles away and she was right beside me









I spent the night in Wells, Nevada, while falling asleep for snatched moments here on the Island.
I could smell the floors and felt the night around me, the silence getting bigger as it got later.
Knew what it looked like through the living room window into the dark, but I've never been there. Curled up beside her under the table she'd pulled her blanket and laptop beneath while we both tried to believe in the illusion of safety inside her makeshift fort.
Knew a stranger was breathing deeply in the other room, but didn't know if they were awake or not. The big man who rescued her from the side of the road.
Prayed short anxious one word prayers; Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
Does she know I actually did keep the laptop open and on all night, my hand reaching out of its own volition to shift it back to the feed of her sleeping every time the screen went dark.

And I miss Wells, Nevada, because I was there, seriously, but I was so glad we got the fuck out.

I miss being there with that little girl, with that teenager, with that grown woman.

I miss hearing all of her words; spoken with that rich Kentucky-bred treacle.  Each and every one of them.  Some showed me a keyhole, some a window, some opened up a door real wide.

I like this girl.  I understand this girl.  I want to raise this girl all over again and take her to school, drop her off on the first day of school with a perfectly packed lunch bag full of love and sandwiches. 

I want to put a band-aid on her knees when she falls and gets them skinned, and I want to hear about her first love, and teach her how to drive a car so that when she grows up and gets a truck and drives across the country and gets stranded in Wells, Nevada, she remembers us laughing hysterically when she got it all wrong the first time.

I'd like to do it all in reverse until she gets what she needs, what she deserved to have.

I told her, "It's good to work out whether you want someone for something you need that you never got, or someone you need for something you never even knew you wanted", but the truth is she needed a good mother for pity's sake, a strong father so she can rest easy in who she is.

Wells, Nevada... never thought I'd be there, but I'll always be glad I was. Can't shake the feeling of the desert out of my heart right now and I don't think I'll try right away.

Psalm 1013

I'm so uncomfortable in my skin tonight.
It's been months and months since this visited.
I took the knife out, but he twisted it.
Grief looking over my shoulder
Wondering if I'm finished being happy yet.
Ready to take it back.

I want something present and sharp,
but i get the past, polluted and vague
I retreat instead
In my head
Fill my mind up with a life that isn't real
in the hopes that I won't remember what I was sad about
What I was scared about
What I can't fix
So impotent so broken so done with this

God, are you still in the centre of this like you said you were?
If I stay still in the centre of this will I know you are?
Just be my centre in the midst of this
It's your peace I miss.

It's possible with You that I will simply go to bed
Lie in safety
Till I wake
Not take back what isn't mine to mend
You can take it for tonight.

the end.

...

Tonight my heart is heavy & sore. Like a giant fresh bruise really. All the words running through it are un words. in words. dis words.

Inadequate.

Insecure.

Incapable.

Insignificant.

Ill-equipped.

Discouraged.

Disconnected.

Disillusioned.

Disjointed.

Unappreciated.

Uncomfortable.

Unable. to. breathe.

Unwilling.

Unimaginable.

Unloved.

Unworthy.

Tonight I really am searching for Grace. Looking for ful words. I'm just too tired to look in the right place right now.

I don't want to write such self-absorbed trash, but I needed to say it to someone tonight.

(inappropriate)

My own personal Thanksgiving

This Thanksgiving (two weeks ago now, sheesh!) I went back to Nanaimo for the second year in a row. I have no doubt that when I left there ( almost three years ago)I was really, really ready to leave there, but there is a part of me that will always find itself in the neighbourhood where I raised my daughter and where I drew the nearest to God and to myself.
Tops on my list of things to be grateful for then is simply the chance to go back, pretty much whenever I want, thanks to some very dear friends who are still there and make me feel like it's my own home that I'm coming back to.
This year my friends were actually in Nepal doing this amazing trek, however, that left their 18 year old daughter, who is like a second daughter to me, by herself for Thanksgiving and she said that she would rather have me there with her than hang out with her friends for that weekend. I felt the same way so, perfect.
The first night we just visited and talked, found our way with each other. I truly like this girl a lot. She is very important to me and a second thing I will give thanks for is being able to continue to be this close to this family.
The second day was indescribably beautiful. I have put pictures with this post simply because a picture is often, truly, worth a thousand words.
It's like, the way that the water looked when I walked down to the beach. It was crystal clear. You could see every pebble, every ripple, every shadow and even though it was fall, I wanted to put my toes in it because it was so perfect. There was every cliche fabulous thing happening at the beach that day it made me laugh out loud. There were feathers floating. There was a jelly fish on the shore, there were seagulls flying over head, there were sailboats and it was quiet and I heard people being gentle and kind to one another.It wasn't just beautiful to look at it was beautiful inside of me. I just felt so present and available. Full of inner hospitality. That's what I strive for everyday and it's always so satisfying to have a day like that. It keeps me hopeful for days and days afterwards. It's what I want to bring into the relationships that I have with the people around me. It's like, when I am around my family, especially my daughter and granddaughter, I am content or I get excited and I feel happy without trying because things make sense. But, when I am by myself I have to work not to feel jangled and disjointed in my head because I feel like something is missing. None of this is okay from a Christian standpoint because I know that there was a time in my past that being alone was so easy for me. It was just time to be connected to God and it was like breathing. This is all stuff I am finding my way back to and this time in Departure Bay was like finding myself fitting back into my own skin again without any effort. It was, quite simply, exactly the way that I want to feel in my own head and heart all the time. I would love to say more to try and convey that but it's just the truth. It was a time for me to remember what it felt like to be alone and not need or want for any other feeling to be inside of me or anything else to make the moment what it was.

On a Sunday Morning

I just got back from a Sunday Morning communion service that brought with it an enormity of emotion.
It starts for me with the knowledge that I am in the place I am supposed to be. Something I never thought I would feel at the cathedral, but something I am extremely grateful for.

"It was the 70th Anniversary of the "Battle of Britain", which took place in the skies over Britain in the summer of 1940 and is considered by many to have been the most significant battle of the Second World War. The defense of the skies over Britain rested on the shoulders of a gallant group of fighter pilots from Britain and the Commonwealth who succeeded in their task of thwarting the Luftwaffe, and averting a Nazi invasion which would, in all probability, have taken place, thereby changing the history of our world."

Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few ~ Winston Churchill

It is at this time that we also stop in church and give prayer and thanks for the pilots in harm's way on the many missions undertaken by the Canadian Forces around the world, and particularly in Afghanistan.

The Recessional Hymn today was one based on an old melody (for those in peril on the sea) but was altered many many years ago for those who had flown. The fourth verse snuck up on me.

We thank You, Father, for the days
Of golden dawns and sunsets' rays
Accept our praise, O Lord we pray
And guide us on Your chosen way.
Be with us, Father, as we rise
To brave the challenge of the skies.

My own father, who is never truly far from my thoughts, has been in them a great deal lately. A little more than usual, I would say. I have heard his voice giving me his perspective on things that I am dealing with, and hearing his corny old expressions whenever they are suitable to the conversation. Last night my sisters and I were working with a challenge of sorts and again, we referenced, "how would he have said this, if he were still alive?"

So, this morning, with the cathedral full of aviators in their crisp uniforms, fly boys for us to put a human face to it all, I could not help but think of Dad and his love of flying, and while the words of the last verse were being sung I choked back huge sobs (I was trying to make a baby laugh so....) as waves of memories flooded my conscious mind. I was suddenly filled with gratitude and awe at the wonder of being able to have flown with my Dad so many times. It's easy to forget about, but it was the very best thing I ever experienced with him and I've always wished I could do it one more time. I left the church and came out into the warm sunshine and knew it would have been a great day to have gotten in a plane with him.

I turned the corner on to our street and the whole of the armed forces that had been in our church today were over at the Cathedral's graveyard to place their memorial over there. The lone trumpeter played the most beautiful and lingering Reveille I had ever heard. Thank you for that.

Thank you, Dad, for taking me on that adventure with you and sharing one of your great joys with me, I am eternally grateful.

Thank you, Father in Heaven, for taking me on an even greater adventure with you, and for sharing joy when you gave us Jesus. I am eternally grateful.

My heart is full and I wish I knew how to share it better. I hope and pray the people around me will help me as I learn how to love more fully, more openly, with more bravery.

Be with us, Father, as we rise
To brave the challenge of the skies.