PRACTICING OUR FAITH: CONTEMPLATION

Psalm 139; Ephesians 3:14-20

February 28, 2010 - Rev. Janet Robertson Duggins

One of the most profound worship experiences I ever had took place in the unlikely setting of a women’s prison. My friend who was the protestant chaplain at this institution asked me to fill in while she was away, so I went to lead worship for the small group of women who gathered in the drab little meeting room. What gave that time of worship a truly sacred character was nothing more complicated than the practice of silence. We sat for more than 10 minutes, just in peaceful quietness and awareness of God. My friend told me that when she first introduced some silence into the time of worship, the women begged for more. Their lives had no space for quietness, solitude, peacefulness or prayer, and a time of silent contemplation during worship gave them something they needed. But I could easily share in it. God’s presence was so evident.

Part of life in the 21^st century is that we are surrounded in most of our waking hours with noise, real noise or the metaphorical “noise” of all the things that vie for our attention : tv, phones, ipods, radio, surround sound, advertising, traffic, crowds, our internet connections, people talking, people wanting something from us … even our own busy thoughts and worries.

Quiet stillness around us is rare; quiet stillness inside is probably even rarer.

It’s certainly not been a big part of Presbyterianism and similar Protestant traditions. We have been more about earnest activity and helping others, serious sermons and dignified worship, Bible study and sound theology, responsible stewardship and good church order. Most of us probably associate contemplation with other religious traditions more than our own.

Of course, in our culture, too, contemplation is not much valued. It looks an awful lot like doing nothing. It doesn’t appear to accomplish much.

Most of us really don’t know how to slow down and just rest, be, pray, meditate, listen. We’ve been raised and taught to be busy, productive, hardworking – to not waste time.

And yet, for some reason, more and more Christians – and more and more congregations – are starting to incorporate contemplative prayer, and quiet meditation, and periods of silence into their life together.

Part of it might be a growing need on the part of many people for peace in the midst of otherwise chaotic and distracted lives. But it’s also about the needs of congregations. One pastor observed that “most mainline churches have fallen prey to a “businesslike functionalism” that causes what he called “respiratory failure.” (p. 122) If that’s true – and I think it might be – it’s no wonder that there is a longing for something more life-giving, something that brings us closer to our real purposes. We’re supposed to be about knowing God, living by God’s Spirit; “businesslike functionalism” is a lifeless sort of way to be in comparison. And so, many faith communities are looking for ways to be intentional about acknowledging the presence of God in their midst. They are learning about contemplation.

The idea of contemplation may call to mind for us a worship experience with lots of candles and meditative music (such as a Taize service).

Or it might make us think of the silence of a Quaker meeting, or of a monastic community’s rhythms of daily prayer.

But of course none of those things – candles, music of whatever sort, sitting in silence, or any rituals, routines or prayers – necessarily makes for contemplation.

It’s something a little deeper than that. At the heart of it is the command from the Psalms: “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10)

Here are some definitions of “contemplation” I came across:

a long and thoughtful observation

considering with attention

resting in the presence of God

an act of prayer focusing on the loving presence of God within

I wonder it a big part of it is essentially understanding prayer in a different way?

Members of one church who began to practice their faith in more contemplative ways said that they had “learned to listen to God, not just to pray for things.” (p.119)

Contemplation is discovering that “prayer is… not just a formula of words, or a series of desires springing up in the heart – it is the orientation of our whole body, mind and spirit to God in silence, attention, and adoration… a conversion of our entire self to God.” (p. 121)

Contemplation is not about thinking and reasoning and figuring things out and knowing stuff about God… it’s about realizing, as the Psalmist says, that we are known by God, known through and through, and held close in love.

Contemplation is not about asking God for anything but trusting in God’s sufficiency.

Contemplation is not about acting like a holy person but about being aware of God’s holiness.

Contemplation is not passive or empty but expectant, open, and trusting.

Contemplation is not avoidance of responsibilities or relationships, and it’s not spirituality “out of touch” with the real world… it is seeking balance and perspective and renewal for living in all the responsibilities and relationships of life.

I think of Martin Luther, who is supposed to have said that he needed to pray at least one hour each morning… but if he had before him a day especially filled with work and responsibilities, he needed to pray two hours.

Throughout scripture we read of people who went apart – into the desert, into the wilderness, into a quiet place – and met God there: Abraham, Jacob, Moses, Ezekiel.

Maybe you remember Elijah going out onto a mountain, because he had been told that the Lord would pass by him there. And there was a great wind, but the Lord was not in the wind. And there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake, and there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. After that there came “the sound of sheer silence.” And it was in the silence that Elijah heard God speak to him. (1 Kings 19)

A number of times the gospel writers tell us that Jesus “withdrew to a deserted place” by himself (or occasionally with his disciples) to rest and pray.

For most people, but maybe not for everyone, contemplation is moving somehow into a quietness or an apartness… into some attitude of openness where God’s presence may be recognized.

It’s not that there is any particular sort of place or circumstance, or any action on our part that “summons” God. God isn’t like that. God doesn’t come at our bidding or stay away because of something we did or didn’t do. In fact, we believe and trust that in every place and every time God is present to us in love (see Psalm 139).

It’s that we sometimes need to clear away the distractions and noise, get our own thoughts and words out of the way, even, so we can give our attention to God.

What helps us to enter into that place of quietness and attention to God’s presence isn’t the same for everyone: it might be having a “prayer corner,” closing your eyes, walking, kneeling in church, sitting by a lake (fishing perhaps), breathing deeply, repeating a simple prayer, music, symbols that are reminders of God’s presence: a cross, a rock, a tree, a cup, a nail. It might be a few moments morning or night spent in gratitude for the day. It could be doing some humble and ordinary tasks with care and attention. It could be turning over some words of scripture in your mind, not puzzling over their meaning but just letting them speak to you.

In church, gathered in community, it might be: meditating on words of scripture, a period of silence at the beginning of a meeting, silent prayers symbolized by the lighting of candles, symbols or art or music or rituals that express our faith without words, simple songs and prayers that focus on God’s presence, the provision of a space dedicated to prayer, sitting quietly together in a time of grief, or listening together as God’s direction is sought.

For most of us this kind of quietness doesn’t come easily. Maybe that’s why they refer to it as a “practice.”

It seems to me that we really have to believe in grace to practice contemplation.

We have to understand that we need God and that we need rest and that our spirits need to be renewed in a way we cannot accomplish on our own. We have to be willing to receive from God, not just do good things for God. We have to admit that the well-being of the world (not to mention our family, church, workplace and community) does not depend upon our constant busy efforts. We have to entrust ourselves and the people we love and the things we are concerned about to God. We have to believe that we are really and truly embraced by love, and that we have nothing to fear or hide in the presence of God.

Having said all that… I have to also say that talking about “contemplation” seems somewhat … inadequate. So I want to invite you to do two things:

First, go home and sometime this next week just sit in silence with God for a few moments – no words, no agenda. Just remembering that God loves you and contemplating God’s goodness.

Second, take a deep breath right now. Take another one. Close your eyes, if you like.

Remember that Christ dwells in your heart.

Picture this: you are being rooted and grounded in love, God’s love.

Understand that God is tenderly and patiently helping you to grow.

Feel the breadth and length, and height and depth of Christ’s love,

which surpasses knowledge and defies explanations.

Be strengthened in your inner being through God’s Spirit.

Let God’s presence surround you and fill you.

Amen.

Resources: Christianity for the Rest of Us, Diana Butler Bass