What we are practising,
together and individually, is Christian Meditation. Both of those words matter. And because of the mess religious language is
in, including the language of spirituality teaching, each of those words needs
to be clarified.
Christian means that we are practising this
prayer in the company of Christ. Along
the road we begin to glimpse the possibility that it is really his prayer, and
he is praying it, wordlessly, with us and in us, a prayer of love and unity. I know that this may be a puzzling new
concept to many Christians, who assume that prayer is something we decide to
do, and in which we ask God to do things – presumably which God may not have
done otherwise. What we are bringing to Christian
Meditation is a personal willing discipline of silence and stillness. As far as we can, we stop the chatter, we
stop asking for things, we are setting the ego to one side, we are awake and
paying attention and not day-dreaming, we resist trying to imagine or fantasise
or go over things in memory. We are
simply still, and saying our mantra – not because the mantra has any magical
properties, but because saying it helps us to be and remain fully where we are
and how we are and who we are. It is a
matter of disciples being still and listening in the presence of the Teacher,
in the presence of God.
So,
importantly, the word Christian is
inclusive. Jesus does not turn people
away. Christian Meditation around the
world has become a place for some who have given up on the church, or who wonder
constantly about doctrine -- but who have never sought to lose the company of
Jesus. Our groups include women and men
of all Christian denominations and of none, including some who have survived
church abuse. This is very Christian
company, it seems to me. It is
exclusiveness and fundamentalism, legalism and pharisaism, that are contrary to
the way of Christ.
Then we have
the word Meditation. In ordinary English it means meditating on
something – some event, some saying, some teaching, some art… We are not using the word in that way. When the bell sounds, we permit our bodies to
be still and our minds to start shutting down all the higher thought, our
normal, constant cogitating, predicting, commenting, judging, verbally
reacting, ensuring our safety, ensuring our comfort, worrying and bothering, caring
for others nearby… and so on. None of
that is wrong when we do it, but it is surplus to requirements at the
moment. It is a matter of choosing
instead, for the present, inner stillness and silence. Of course this takes time to do well, it
isn’t done by flipping a switch, and often we seem to get nowhere. You often come to the end of 20 or 30 minutes
and wonder whether anything was achieved.
But it was. You did sit
still. You did not happily permit all
the usual noise in your life. You made
an effort, and I think, somehow, ineffably, God sees that intention, and deep longing,
and honours that effort.
It never
becomes perfect. But eventually we
glimpse what might be meant by true contemplative prayer, when we are truly
attentive, when we are consenting to whatever the Spirit of God seeks to do in
us, when we find ourselves losing our fears for ourselves – because perfect
love casts out fear. And that is the
link to what I would like to say next week.
People ask, one way or another:
What’s in it for me? Why do I do
this? How can I tell if anything good is
coming of it? We’ll think about that
next time.
