The Foundation of the Spiritual Life

Soon afterwards

Elizabeth his wife became pregnant

and went into seclusion for five months.

“How kind the Lord is,” she exclaimed,

“to take away my disgrace

of having no children!”

(Luke 1:24-25, The Living Bible)

Dear friends, even though I am talking like this I really don’t believe that what I am saying applies to you. I am confident you are producing the good fruit that comes along with your salvation. For God is not unfair. How can he forget your hard work for him, or forget the way you used to show your love for him—and still do—by helping his children? And we are anxious that you keep right on loving others as long as life lasts, so that you will get your full reward. Then, knowing what lies ahead for you, you won’t become bored with being a Christian nor become spiritually dull and indifferent, but you will be anxious to follow the example of those who receive all that God has promised them because of their strong faith and patience. (Hebrews 6:9-12, TLB)

The French author Simone Weil  writes in her notebook: “Waiting patiently in expectation is the foundation of the spiritual life.” Without patience our expectation degenerates into wishful thinking. Patience comes from the word patior which means “to suffer.” What seems a hindrance becomes a way; what seems an obstacle becomes a door; what seems a misfit becomes a cornerstone. (Henri Nouwen, Out of Solitude)

Prayer

Lord, give us patience so that we may truly see obstacles as doors, the “not-quite-rights” of life as a foundation, our suffering and indifference as eventual gateways to your salvation, to goodness, and to meaningful service. Make the challenges on our spiritual journey into opportunities to say “yes” to your love and to your help. Amen. 

Advent action

Advent is marked by a spirit of expectation, by watchful alertness. Prepare the way of the Lord by making an Advent calendar of ways to help others or positive changes in your own spiritual life. Don't plan too precisely, however; leave room for God's input. 

(from Advent and Christmas Wisdom from Henri Nouwen)

Hidden Hope

But on this humbled ground, a tiny shoot, hopeful and promising,
    will sprout from Jesse’s stump;
A branch will emerge from his roots to bear fruit.
And on this child from David’s line, the Spirit of the Eternal One will alight and rest.
By the Spirit of wisdom and discernment
    He will shine like the dew.
By the Spirit of counsel and strength
    He will judge fairly and act courageously.
By the Spirit of knowledge and reverence of the Lord,
    He will take pleasure in honoring the Lord.

(Isaiah 11:1-3, The Voice) 

 

I keep expecting loud and impressive events to convince me and others of God's saving power. Our temptation is to be distracted by them. . . .When I have no eyes for the small signs of God's presence - the smile of a baby, the carefree play children, the words of encouragement and gestures of love offered by friends - I will always remain tempted by despair. 

 

The small child of Bethlehem, the unknown man of Nazareth, the rejected preacher, the naked man on the cross, he asks for my full attention. The work of our salvation takes place in the midst of a world that continues to shout, scream, and overwhelm us with its claims and promises. (Henry Nouwen, Gracias! A Latin American Journal)
 

Prayer

 

We welcome you, small child of Bethlehem, who's coming we await with quiet attention. Shield us from the shouts, the screams, the empty promises of the season, and encourage us to turn our hopes to your coming. We know that the promise is hidden in the stable in Bethlehem and rooted in the offspring of Jesse; let us look for our salvation there. Amen.

Advent action

 

Today I will look for one small sign that God is present in my daily life. I will give thanks for his presence. If I can't hear him, I will look for what might be closing my ears.

 

(from Advent and Christmas: Wisdom from Henri Nouwen) 

Prayer and Presence

spiritualityandpractice.com 

Devotional Classics, Henri Nouwen, Excerpts from Making All Things New

"If we really believe not only that God exists but also that he is actively present in our lives - healing, teaching, and guiding - we need to set aside a time and a space to give him our undivided attention." (p.95)

How often does God become just an idea or a feeling or a duty or an obligation to me? I do not think I ever have really doubted that God simply exists. I think I have played with the idea occasionally of how I could try to imagine him not existing. That takes far more "faith" than I have.

Jesus did not come primarily to prove that God exists. After all, "even the demons believe that - and shudder." (Jam. 2:19) It is a necessary step in the right direction, but a very small step. I find that God's existence in not what I struggle to keep a hold on, but God's active concern for me, his doting parenthood, his continual closeness.

It's not just proximity, but closeness in care. One verse that really touches me in this way is Jesus' teaching: "Do not keep babbling on like the pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him." (Mt 6:7-8) I used to think of God knowing what I need before I ask him as simply foreknowledge, but I think it is more a comment on how well he knows me and cares for me. I do not need to babble on, nervously hoping that I can get across to God what I need or so I can coerce something out of him. No, he knows me deeply and intimately and wants me to speak to him as one who knows and loves me.

My greatest enemy seems to be the apparent urgency or proximity of things that need to be done or people who need my attention. They seem so much "closer" to me than God. Their voices are seemingly louder and more insistent. But really that is generally not true. The nearness and urgency of being with God is actually what is closer. The greater the task I have to do, the more desperately a person needs me, the more I need to take the Lord's hand to accompany me through it all. So often I let go and try to fly solo. . . .

Lord, save me from forgetting you, from not having any room in my thoughts for you. How is it that I can forget someone who is so crazy about me? I can only answer that my love is mostly directed at other things or other people at times or at my own comfort and ease. Forgive me. Remind me. "Let me never, no, never outlive my love to Thee." (from O Sacred Head Now Wounded) Amen.

In a traditional prayer of examen, as I have learned it, the first step is the realization that God is present, has been present earlier in my day, and is already waiting for me later in my day. Just this first step has awakened me from my spiritual lethargy and sleep during the day. These moments of examen of God's presence in my life makes me realize the truth in Brother Lawrence's words: "I began to live as if there was none but God and I in the world." May your presence become what is most important to me, Father.

Prayer and Space

spiritualityandpractice.com 

Devotional Classics, Henri Nouwen, Excerpts from Making All Things New

"A spiritual discipline, therefore, is the concentrated effort to create some inner and outer space in our lives, where obedience can be practiced." (p.95)

Yesterday was a day with little space. I have been going from one emergency to the next at work. At home Spring has sprung with all its extra demands for cleaning and maintainance. Starting this blog has been fun, but it also lingers in my mind. Space has seemed scarce these days.

In the midst of this I find great comfort in taking small "breathers," small moments of silence. I find that it is indeed as Nouwen points out in another book, The Way of the Heart, a solitude I can take everywhere. I do find that this inner space allows me room to practice obedienceto my Lord in many situations, instead of letting them blow by. Indeed, I find that it is possible to start doing as Paul says: "Whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God." (1 Cor. 10:31)

Using solitude and silence to create that inner space also brings me great comfort. God is near. He is very near. His grace is shown when we turn our faces up to him, he is there. We have to "close the door" on our many inner and outer voices to hear him oftentimes, but he is there.

And he is more than just there. I don't like the song that says "God is watching from a distance." He is already talking to me. Before I come or go, he is already there. "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain." (Ps. 139:6) His presence is all the comfort I need because it also means he is at work in and around me. That is why I can stand still and find God, because of his grace and intimate love.

I also find that this inner space prevents me from making intimacy with others into a sort of god. I truly need to be closer to people around me, sharing with them and caring for them, however, I need to be careful that I do not use this intimacy to manipulate or control people, trying to get them to do what I want for my own self-satisfaction. I need room. They need room. Room to be with the Lord. Bonhoeffer explains that we need Christ to mediate in all our relationships in Life Together. The closer the relationship, the more I need God in the midst of it.

Lord, it is joy to know that "if I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there; if I rise on the wings of the dawn or settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me." (Ps. 139:7-8) I need you these days, these full days. I want to empty them even just a little to let you in. Amen.

In the last day or so, I have been practicing breathers during my devotions and conversations and work and even play. I have found God to be near, but I find that I forget him so easily. His grace is in the space. When my heart and life are full, there is no room for God. I invite you, Lord, into these little spaces today.

Prayer and Solitude

spiritualityandpractice.com

Devotional Classics, Henri Nouwen, Excerpts from Making All Things New

"One of the early Christian writers describes the first stage of solitary prayer as the experience of a man who, after years of living with open doors, suddenly decides to shut them." (p.96)

Jesus tells me similar things. "But when you pray, go into your room and close the door and prayer to your Father who is unseen. Then your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you." (Mt. 6:6) Also, a hymn that has moved me recently speaks the same thing:

I heard the voice of Jesus say, "Come unto me and rest.
Lay down thou weary one, lay down thy head upon my breast."
I came Jesus as I was: weary and worn and sad.
I have found in him a resting place and he has made me glad.

So the first part of this solitary prayer is closing the door. I continue to see that the first part of devotion is letting go of something before I can receive something. When I close the door, I start to let go of the desire to be impressive or even respected. When I close the door, I start to rest from my frantic desires to get ahead or make up for my weaknesses.

My wife, Dawn, has often remarked that it is not in the midst of a frenzied week that she becomes sad or sick, but during the rest that follows. Something about this letting go seems to bring allow her to experience being "weary and worn and sad." I have had similar experiences in solitary prayer. When I stop and seek the Lord, I find out how weary I am.

I think this has made me reluctant to stop at times, almost as if God makes me sad. But it is not that. Solitary prayer makes me aware of the weariness that I've had all along. If that weariness goes unchecked, I find I begin to see it manifest in other ways: my besetting sins resurface, my body begins to get sick, my relationships begin to deteriorate, and my heart turns away from God with suspicion or indifference.

I find that I have been letting everything into my life indiscriminately. I am weary because I have too many masters, demanding my time and energy. Solitude begins with shutting the door on these masters and seeking my one true Lord. I need recalibration because I drift.

Of course, these other masters see my solitary prayer as "wasted time" and a "strange period of uselessness." (p.96) I have heard that this is one of the best indicators that I am spending time alone with God: I have some sense from others and myself that I am "wasting time." I find that only then am I truly resting in Him.

Lord, there are so many words, so many things to do, so many things to study and understand, but I find that these things are empty without you guiding me through them. I would rather have one word from you, one small calling to fulfill, and just the certainty of your love for me and others than anything else. "Whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ." (Php. 3:7) Help me to truly rest in you, Father, and leave the many other voices behind. Amen.

At home, I must teach my kids to close the door so that we don't let the heat out or let the bugs in. Now I must teach my heart the same thing, because I want to keep the heat in and the bugs out of there as well. My door edges open somewhere in the afternoon because I become engrossed with all that I think I have to do. I need a "time of refreshing" somewhere in there to close the door. Many prayer offices include three times of prayer in the day. Perhaps that will do to begin with. . . .