All is Well: A Journey in Contemplation

g Reality

It may seem like a strange question, but: what is reality?  It seems to me that in the clamour of modern life we have lost our hold on what reality is.  Many of us know this through our experiences of social media.  We scroll through posts and know that, whilst we can touch base with people, much of what we see is not ‘real’.  More than ever before, we have the opportunity to curate our own lives and to portray a life that is not real.  We can reach across the ether and ‘hold hands’ with a friend – give them a virtual hug – but this can come at the price of not living in the present: not interacting with the people on our doorstep and the environment in which we live.

Human beings are amazing creatures and the exponential rise of technology means that many of us – especially in developed nations – live lives that are insulated from what it means to be alive.  We don’t have direct contact with the source of the things that enable us to live: our water comes from taps; our food comes from shops; our heating comes through radiators.  We take for granted: shelter; full stomachs; clean water and warmth.  And in the same way that we have lost contact with the physical sources of life, so too have we lost touch with the spiritual source of life.  God/Love gets lost in all the superficial things we hold onto and we seek solace through various forms of addiction – to food, drugs, alcohol, pleasure.  Always seeking more, bigger, better.  Trying to hold on to youth and beauty instead of seeking the inner wisdom that comes from a life in touch with reality.

This is not to say that life is easy.  Life trips us up all the time.  It throws ‘curve balls’ at us that knock us off balance.  And sometimes that fall is exactly what we need.  Sometimes that fall takes us face-to-face with reality and we are able to let go of the things that have blinded us.

It is a hard message to hear, but a true one.  We need to spend some time in darkness, and we need to recognise our current trajectory given our lack of care for our planet.  Human beings are amazing creatures, and yet despite all our knowledge and scientific discoveries we too often run away from the truth.  When there is bad news there is only so much we can take and then we seek comfort – comfort that is often taken at the expense of others who are far away enough for us to ignore.

I struggle with this.  I struggle to live in a world where I know that other people suffer, where the planet is being exploited and destroyed, where it seems that too many of us – and in that I include myself – are too lethargic, or scared, or selfish to act in love for the whole of humanity and the planet.  It is all too much – the problems seem too big to even conceptualise, so I disappear back into my comfort zone.

I believe that God wants us to live in reality.  To face the darkness and, indeed, to dwell in it sometimes.  It is there that we can escape the clamour of the world: we can find God and God can find us.  It seems counterintuitive in many ways and yet it is the pattern of nature - life leads to death and death to life – the very pattern that Christ as a man lived out in his time on earth.  He did not turn his back on the realities of life – he reached out in love and when death sought him out he absorbed the hatred that put him there and accepted his path.  In accepting his path, he found life.

In many ways it seems crazy to be writing these thoughts and ideas under the title of ‘All is well’ when our world is such a mess.  But I honestly believe that when we face the reality and ugliness of our world and ourselves, it is then that God/Love enters us with the reassurance that ‘all is well’, and we become aware of a bigger reality.  A reality that is cosmic and beyond our understanding. We gain a peace that we don’t understand and yet is more real than any we have previously experienced.

Meditation has been described as ‘practising dying’.  In meditation I sit in silence and I let go of all that is inside me: I just sit.  The way of contemplation is a ‘letting go’ not just of the physical, but also of the ego – a letting go of myself.  Jesus taught us to give up our lives and take up our crosses.  Why such a tough request?  Because that is the way of life and peace.  God does not come to punish us in this, he comes to us in Love and wants us to find the Love that he planted in our souls at the very beginning; that he planted in the whole of his creation.

The darkness we experience is sometimes an unknowing.  Whilst I am energised to understand more about how our universe functions, I am conscious that there are always more questions.  Whilst I love to find out more about how people work and to find empathy, I am always faced with people and situations that surprise me and that I don’t understand.  Sometimes I need to let go of the desire to understand and sit in the mystery of it all.  God/Love is mystery and sometimes our journey is a road of un-knowing.  Sometimes we need to unpick what we thought we knew and trust the falling; trust the mystery; trust the darkness.  Let go of our need to be in control and trust that God/Love will always catch us.

Through darkness we find light.  Fighting for justice and peace, valuing our planet and every human life, is not something we can do without this inner journey.  We will burn out; we will lose hope.  We need to do the inner work that takes us to the real reality; that affirms that ‘all is well’.  Then we will live in hope and faith, and love will be our source and our guide.

 

Love says

Love says:

I am here

 

I am in the waiting.

Pregnant with the life

that will unfold.

 

I am in the

sound of the wind,

and in its silence

as it comes to rest.

 

I am in the pause,

in the full stop,

the comma.

 

I am in the snatch of time

between your busy thoughts.

 

I am in each Nano second,

which passes

without your noticing,

beyond your grasping.

 

I am within the sound waves.

Caught in the bird’s song

And the hum of traffic.

 

I am the infinite space

Between each molecule.

In the narrowest gap

which opens up into my expanse.

 

Love says:

I am here

I am not in the stillness.

I am the stillness

that seeps into you

as you sit in my loving gaze.

All is Well: A Journey in Contemplation

f  Pilgrim

I have never been on a pilgrimage, and yet I am a pilgrim.  A pilgrim on the journey of life. 

A pilgrim is a person who makes a long journey to a sacred place.  The long journey is my life – to be truthful I do not know how long or short it will be - each day is another step on the path.  The sacred place is, maybe, not a ‘place’.  I am seeking the divine and the sacred, which is all around me and within, if only I can open my eyes and see.  Another image of this pilgrimage is ‘waking up’ – life’s journey draws me out of my slumber so that I can connect with the divine.  See the real reality.

What does this spiritual journey look like? Like a physical journey it can move at different speeds.  There will be days when we will be encouraged by our progress; when we feel we have come far.  Equally there will be days when, even though we are trying, we seem to make no progress at all.  There will be the days when we go backwards or need to return to a place and pick up something we left there or leave something that belongs there.  It is not a straight line from A to B!  The spiritual journey involves learning, and it involves ‘un-learning’ – we need to be open to new ideas and recognise the beliefs and ideas that stop us from moving forwards.   There will be times of rest: times when we need to stop and evaluate; times when we simply need to stop and be.  This rest can be significant – it can give us a sense of the divine and help us to discern the direction we are being drawn to.  As with a physical journey there will be uphill climbs in treacherous weather, and there will be flat, wide open plains with the sun on our backs.  Life as a pilgrim will have its ups and downs – its blissful days and its days when we just want to give up.

When we want to give up, where do we go?  Maybe we go back home. And yet isn’t home where we are headed? Our pilgrim journey through life is a forward, progressive journey, that takes us back to where we started.  It takes us back to God: back to the Love that brought us into being.  In many ways it is not helpful to think of the destination.  When we have a destination in mind we start measuring – how far have I come? Or, how long until I get there? These questions feed our egos - our own sense of achievement.  These questions can impede our journey.

Our pilgrim journey is one in which we need to lose our sense of self and our desire to measure.  As Richard Rohr says, it is about ‘awakening, not accomplishing.  You can not get there, you can only be there’¹. We are on a journey and yet we have already arrived at our destination.  Our pilgrimage is taking us deeper into God, and deeper into our souls – that is where we will find what is truly precious.

In this pilgrimage I accompanied by many: I am accompanied by you.   It is an intimate journey and yet it is shared with so many; not only across the planet but across history.  We are all pilgrims on this same journey – we can learn from pilgrims who have come before us and we can learn from each other.

It is so important that we learn from each other.  One way in which my eyes have been opened is in recognising that I can learn from every person I meet.  Each person I have contact with, no matter how limited, has the potential to open up new insights, or to rub off one of my harsh corners, or to teach me about the things inside of myself that I would rather not face.  When I open myself up to another human soul - when I let myself be touched - I am opening myself up to the God who is love and I am letting Love touch me.  It doesn’t always feel like love – I am far from perfect and some people evoke negative feelings in me.  It is also important to acknowledge that some relationships are not healthy: they are harmful.  Yet, without putting ourselves in further harm, can we still open up our souls to what we can learn?  When we open up our souls to those who have hurt us can we find forgiveness?  And through forgiveness God’s healing mercy, compassion and kindness. When we allow this to happen we become a little more like Love.  We make ‘progress’ on our journey.

I am humbled when I think back and remember the experiences I have had in life and the amazing people I have had the privilege to know; even the privilege to call friends.  Friendships flourish when we have the courage to open up to each other and learn from each other.  As I have got older I see that even those whom I have not counted friends, have had an impact on me, have been a part of my journey, and they are also due my thanks.

As intimate and individual as this pilgrimage of mine is, I know that it is intrinsically linked to your pilgrimage and that of humanity.  However deep and wide I dig into my soul, I know that it is part of a bigger soul that belongs to the whole of humanity and is ultimately found in God.  We are all in this together.  We are all pilgrims.

 

Musing #7: God as a slippery fish

I have an image of God in my head as a slippery fish. Let me try to explain! I believe that God is mystery and beyond our comprehension – our words and our thoughts will never capture who God is.  But words are what we have.  So, in our human-ness and our desire to understand we try to explain God: we pull him into our perception and, in so doing, we fail to see who he really is.

I’ve never held a fish that is still alive but, in my head, I see a fish thrashing around as I try desperately to hold onto it.  Until I realise that if I continue to hold onto this beautiful creature, it will die.  I will have the fish, but it will have lost its life.  My experience of God is that when I hold onto him too tightly – when I think I have understood and can explain God – he ‘dies’.  God becomes something else – a set of beliefs and rules - and is no longer alive.  I need to hold on to God lightly and let him slip out of my hands.  The thing with God is that we will never fully understand him.  The point is to keep seeking.

Free from our hands God, the fish, slips back into the water.  Water that spreads and seeps into the tightest of corners.  Water that is deep and broad and holds treasure beyond our imagining.  When God slips out of our hands he doesn’t want us to walk away: stay at the water’s edge and seek him.  As we stare into the depths we may catch a glimpse – the flick of his tail as he dances beneath the surface.  If we keep gazing, he may leap like a flash of silver to capture our attention again. 

Contemplation is in the gazing and the seeking.  Contemplation is coming to realise that God is not just the fish but the whole expanse of water.  And as I seek God I may also paddle in the shallows of his very being. Or take a deep breath and dive into him. Or feel, as I gaze, the spring of his spirit rising up in me.  God can not be held tightly and understood but he is constantly inviting us to dance with him in the waters of his spirit.

Photo by Mael Balland on Unsplash

All is Well: A Journey in Contemplation

e Love

This is where it all begins.  Growing up as a Christian I knew that love was at the centre of my faith but what I learnt often emphasised rules, obligations and beliefs.  For all the amazing words about love in the Bible, the realisation that God is love took a long time to dawn.  When I use love as the lens to read the Bible, observe the natural world and understand relationships, the world makes sense to me in a different way.  Love gives me a place to rest and a way forward, and I find it incredibly helpful to interchange the words God and Love.  When I see Love, I see God – when God is present, Love is manifest.  This is where it all begins. This is the ground that I stand on. This is what holds everything together.

What is love?  Love is a force and an energy that moves between us: in its perfection love drives out all fear: love is patient, kind and compassionate – it keeps no record of wrongs: love is what connects us.  When I ask myself what love is, I am asking myself who God is.  God is a force and an energy that moves between us: God drives out fear: God is patient, kind and compassionate – he keeps no record of wrongs: God is the force that draws us together.  God is present all the time – love is present all the time, only that sometimes we sail on unaware of this presence.  The call to contemplation is the call to slow down - to pause - and recognise the presence of love which is always accompanying us and within us.

One morning walking up to church a ‘picture’ came into my mind.  I was speaking that morning about the kingdom of God and the fact that each of us, by virtue of our existence, has a piece of God planted in us.  In my mind’s eye that piece of God inside each of us was a point of light – our individual opening to God.  As I pondered the picture it became like a dot-to-dot puzzle – if the points of light could be joined up they would create a picture of God’s Kingdom of Love. The image stayed with me and I realised that the way that we join up our points of light is through love.  When I act in love I draw a line between myself and the person I am loving.  The dot-to-dot puzzle is transformed into a web of light which grows and expands with each loving action, word, thought and prayer.  A picture of the creation of God’s kingdom of love.  I am not unique in having been given a picture like this. This force of Love, which some of us call God, wants to communicate with us and encourage us to live in line with love and create a beauty. 

Love is the true connector.  If we let Love do her work she will connect us deeply and widely, with people we find difficult; people we have never met; creatures and plants; the very earth.  That is Love’s work.

Think of someone that you find difficult.  It could be a neighbour, a colleague, a boss or a leader, someone at your church.  This person may be difficult in different ways.  Maybe you can not tolerate their political or religious beliefs; maybe they have been unkind to you; maybe you find them irritating or boring.  For a moment put that hurt or irritation out of your mind and think about the love that person has for someone in their life: their partner; their parents; their children; their friends.  That love they have is real – as real as the love you have for your partner; your parents; your children; your friends. I remember having this realisation when someone I don’t always find easy opened up about the concerns they had for their children.  Suddenly my internal judgement and my discomfort dissolved as I saw clearly this person’s love for their children.  It was a bit like tumbling to the ground – I saw what joined us, what made us the same.  That thing was love.  We stand on the same ground.  If we let her, Love will take us deeper.

Think of a situation in the world which you may not understand or know much about, but you know that people are suffering.  Unfortunately, there are many to choose from.  Often the people we see on the television news or in pictures in newspapers are nameless, but even if we know their names it can feel impossible to connect with them.  Just for a moment think about the nameless person or people and remember that they are someone’s child.  Maybe they are someone’s sister, or brother; someone’s mother or father; someone’s friend.  Their situation – their suffering – is having an impact on a web of people who may well be in the same danger.  The love they have for each other is real, and it is the same love that you have for that web of people that surround you.  They and we are human, and the love that they and we give and receive connects us.  If we let her, Love will take us wider.

If we let her, Love will connect us with the living creatures on land, sea and sky; with the trees and plants; with the very elements of the earth.  Because we are all made from the same stardust. Our likeness draws us together, whilst also generating the energy that allows our universe to keep expanding.  Love anchors us and allows us to grow.

For me the journey in contemplation is answering the call to Love.  Tuning into a different spiritual wavelength in order to experience and pass on this positive force which is God.  It involves: slowing down; letting go of the things that distract; being intentional; recognising love at work in places I don’t expect to find it.  Surely this is the key to life: surely this is the Way. And the Truth.  And the Life.  Because Love is the answer: the answer to my frustrations, my fears, my disappointments, my failures, my desires.  Sometimes the road that it takes me on is hard: it looks like the road of loss, deprivation and failure.  Love doesn’t take away pain or darkness: it enables the suffering to transform us and it never lets us go. 

Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash
 

 Musing #6: Let feelings be your teacher

How do you feel today? Maybe if you pause for a moment you can tune in and sense that you’re just ok.  Or maybe there’s an anger inside you, or an anxiety or a fear bubbling up.  What do you do with that emotion?  Does it consume you: eat away at you? Or do you consume it – bury it or repress it? Ignore it?

The way I respond to my emotions and feelings differs but what I am finding myself more able to do is to observe them: notice what I am feeling and be aware that it is just that – a feeling.  Feelings come, and feelings go.  An image was given to me of a mountain that stands solidly as storms pass, as snow falls, as sunshine lights up its beauty.  I am the mountain – you are the mountain.  Our emotions are the weather – they come, and they go; sometimes just what we needed, sometimes exactly what we didn’t want; sometimes a storm will last a while but not forever – the storm will pass.  Another day or season will come, and the feeling will be different. 

I find this picture helpful: it speaks to me of the equanimity I find through contemplative practices; it speaks to me of the peace that is beyond understanding.  But I am encouraged not to ignore these emotions.  A different image is found in Rumi’s poem ‘The Guesthouse’. This speaks of us as houses to which all manner of emotions arrive as guests, and his encouragement is to invite these guests in because they have their work to do: they are gifts from the beyond.  And I think, yes, let me listen to how I am feeling – let me welcome that feeling and let it teach me.

Some emotions are painful, and our instinctive reaction is to push them away or to deny them.  But what is that pain trying to communicate to you?  Just as physical pain can alert us to an injury, a danger or a disease, I find myself seeing emotional pain as a pointer to something.  And I want to listen and find what that something is – what is that messenger from beyond trying to say to me?  Is it alerting me to an ‘injury’ that I have suffered or inflicted? Is it aware of a danger that I could prepare for? Or has it seen a habit that is becoming like a disease in me – incapacitating me in some way?

The world is not an easy place to live at the moment with the effects of climate change ever more apparent; and wars; inequalities; violence.  In all this suffering I know I am not the only one who has retreated from the news – it all feels too much.  But something has been nudging me recently to re-think this decision.  I do not wish to sit in the 24-hour wash of news without an awareness of its impact on me.  But I do feel a need to take some time to sit with the news – however horrendous it may be - and feel the emotions that emerge.  Oftentimes my response to the news is one of powerlessness: I don’t know what to do about all that is going wrong in the world at the moment.  I wonder, if I sit with the emotions that the news evokes, will they become my teacher?  If I can welcome those emotions into my guest house what work will they do?

Many of our physical ills result from our attempts to numb ourselves from painful emotions and feelings – numb ourselves from our human reality.  What if we were to stop numbing ourselves, feel the pain and let it teach us?  I honestly don’t know what would happen, but I am confident that it would draw us nearer to the Love that sits at the centre of the universe.  The Love that does not wish us any harm but wishes to transform us and turn our pain into joy.

Photo by Angel Barnes on Unsplash

Rumi’s 'The Guest House' being read: https://fb.watch/pWBz_S7Ujz/

 

Sermon: Isaiah 2:1-5

Theme: Advent

About this:

This is a talk from Advent Sunday last year.  As I read it this time I heard words I needed to hear again.  Unfortunately we are still facing very dark times.  I still need the encouragement to find and share the light within and around me. Reading the passage again in the light of the current conflict in Gaza I long for the peace it speaks of.

I hope these words will be encouraging and comforting as we enter the season of Advent in a week's time.

Here's a link to the Bible reading:

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Isaiah+2%3A1-5&version=NRSVUE

Last week Riffat spoke about Jesus as the Good Shepherd.  She talked about sheep – how they are not very bright, how they wander off, how one will fall off a steep edge and others will follow to see what happened and end up falling off the edge too.  As I listened to Riffat I thought again how like sheep we are.  How, unfortunately, we are not very bright – including those of us who have qualifications and experience and learning: when it comes to spiritual things we still struggle to understand.  How easy it is for us to be oblivious to our shepherd and wander away; to get ourselves lost or in danger.  How we follow each other and are unaware of what is ahead of us until it is too late.  This speaks to me of the current times that we find ourselves in.  How like sheep we are.  How lost we are.

But today is the first Sunday of Advent.  Advent is a time of waiting, and a time of hope.  We have the anticipation of something good coming – the hope of God being born among us.  Immanuel – God with us.  As we look at today’s passages my prayer is that God will speak to us and plant that seed of hope inside us in the difficult times we face.  Because there is hope for us, even though we are sheep!

In the passage in Isaiah we are given an image of God rising up and all nations streaming towards Him.  The Lord’s temple will be raised above the hills and all nations will stream to it.  And then in verse 3 it says: “Come let us go to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob.  He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths.”

Let’s just spend some time dwelling on this verse…

“Come let us go to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob.  He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths.”

What is your deepest desire?  What is it that you want the most in life? 

I think this verse speaks to us of our deepest desire: when people see God rise up, when they see the beauty of his temple, their deepest desire is to go to God’s house so that they learn his ways and walk in his paths.  I think this desire is deep in each one of us even if we are not aware of it: even if that wasn’t your first answer to my question. Sometimes this is spoken of as ‘a God shaped hole’ – there is a space in us that can only be filled by God, a desire in us that only God can meet.

I am currently on a course called ‘Encounter’ which is very interesting – maybe I will get to share with you more of what I am learning as time goes on.  We recently had a session on the fall and looked at different understandings of sin.  One of these understandings is that sin is ‘misdirected desire’.  If we understand humans as beings with that deep desire for God, then sin can be seen as what happens when we start desiring other things in place of God.  This can lead to all kinds of addictions because it is impossible for us to find a replacement for God that will meet our deepest desire.  I wonder how obvious our addictions are – some of us may have struggled with alcohol or drugs or cigarettes; for others of us the addiction may be a lot more subtle.  For myself I would think of food – which I eat when I don’t need it – and television – I can really watch too much of it.  In those things I am looking for comfort and rest and pleasure – but those things will never meet my need in the way that God can.

Unfortunately, Christmas is a time when we very often get distracted by all the other desires in our lives.  These might be material possessions – from an early age the question has been ‘what do you want for Christmas?’ - or it might be the desire to see friends and family, or to keep one of our dearly held traditions.  Christmas is an incredibly busy time of year and the danger is that we do not pay attention to our deepest desire which is for God. 

So this verse, I think, is very helpful:

“Come let us go to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob.  He will teach us his ways, so that we may walk in his paths.”

But then I ask myself – where is it that I need to go?  Where is this ‘house of God’?  Of course, one answer is that it is here, at church.  This is a house of God.  We come here to meet with God, to learn his ways so that we can walk in his paths.  But I think that there is something else here, something that doesn’t need a building, something that I carry with me all the time.

When I read this verse I am reminded that my body is described as ‘a temple of the Lord’ and that Jesus said that the Kingdom of God is within and among us.  This verse invites us to remember that God is inside us: it invites us to drop down inside ourselves and find the place inside of us where God dwells. 

In my sheep-like humanity it is easy to forget or ignore this.  It is easy to busy myself with the demands of my life, to get caught up in all that is going on in the world, even to busy myself in doing good, and not take time to be still and connect with God in his temple inside me. 

The journey I need to take to the house of God is an internal journey.  I need to be still and drop down into God; into the place where he lives in me.  When we find this place of connection with the sacred we will be taught his ways.  The ways of peace as described in our Isaiah passage. Connection with Christ brings peace, just as Jesus breathed peace on his disciples when he appeared to them after the resurrection.

Within myself I am aware of stresses, of fears, of burdens – related to what’s going on in my life as an individual and related to what is going on in the world.  But I am also aware of a deeper place – a place of peace, where God dwells within me.  God invites us, again and again, with his infinite patience to drop down into that deep place and find him.  He is the shepherd who follows us, who seeks us out and rejoices when he finds us.  He longs to hold us in his embrace.  And the truth is, he is always embracing us. But we need to find the stillness within - drop down into that stillness and rest in him.  Rest in peace, hope and love.  That is our home.

Isaiah 2 verse 5, at the end of our passage, says: “Come, O house of Jacob, let us walk in the light of the Lord” As we begin advent can we find the light within us, and about us, and walk in it?

At Christmas God dropped down from heaven to dwell with us.  Can we drop down into the depth of God within us during this season of advent, so that we can bring light and hope into the dark times we are experiencing?

We live in fear because we do not follow our deepest desire, our deepest yearning – to be in the house of love – in God.  At the beginning of advent be reminded – every day, every hour, every minute – God invites you there, God waits for you there, God seeks you there.  Let’s follow our deepest desire and find God – find peace, hope and love – this Advent.

 All is Well: A Journey in Contemplation

d Everything

How do we think about God?  Yes, how do we even begin to think about whatever we call the force that holds everything together?  It seems to me, more and more, that in trying to understand we have squeezed and squashed God into a box.  In making the indescribable describable we have limited him.  In defining what it is right and wrong to believe we have excluded God – we have shut the bigger part of her outside of the door. 

At this time in history I believe it is critical that we open up the doors and see that God is everywhere.  We need to wake up - open our eyes - and see that God is in everything.  At the beginning of time there was no written word but God was manifest in creation.  You don’t need to believe in God to wonder at the way that the natural world is designed: to marvel at its beauty; to observe its patterns; to be amazed at its resilience and strength; to stand in awe at what surrounds us.  Who is not struck by the beauty of a rainbow?  Or the swell of the ocean? Or the grandeur of mountains? In the natural world each one of us finds phenomenon that stop us in our tracks and give us the sense of something beyond us.

Those of us who come from a Christian background need to be careful with the way we think.  When we are struck by the beauty of creation we get opened up.  But we also so easily get closed down again by trying to own this beauty: by trying to own the creator.  God is love, and God is manifest in his love - in his creation - all over the planet.  Life abounds where it has not been nurtured or fed – something comes from ‘nothing’: is that not seemingly how the world began, whatever story we subscribe to? When we understand that creation is God manifest we understand that God is available to all.  When we understand that we too are part of that creation – fearfully and wonderfully made – we understand that each human life has the imprint of God.  We open our eyes and recognise that God is in everything and everyone – he always has been and she always will be.

I am not a scientist but I am intrigued by the knowledge that science gives us, and by the way that so many fields of study are being drawn together even as they expand.  Science teaches us that the universe is unfolding and expanding.  This is in essence what we need to do with our thinking – let it unfold and expand.  For me, if my thinking is unfolding and expanding then God is unfolding and expanding.  This in turn means that love is unfolding and expanding.  I want to be a part of that and believe that is what this journey of contemplation is about. 

As science uncovers and explains more and more, the truth is that there is always still more beyond that to understand.  Again, is that not a picture of God?  God is so big that we can’t get outside of him to look back and make objective observations of what she is like.  Which is why it is just impossible to put God in a box.  It is a bit like being on planet earth.  Most of us will not have the opportunity to go up into space and see what earth looks like from a distance (although of course we have photographs).  But equally we don’t need to see earth in this way because there is so much to explore even in our vicinity.  This is also true for us as individuals – I can never get outside of myself and look at myself objectively, but there is so much to explore and work on, on the inside, that it doesn’t really matter.  And however far we go- whether it be to orbit and look back at our earth, or beyond our solar system to look back, there is always a further place to be.  For me, this is a picture of the immensity of God.  It is a picture of infinity – I can never reach the end.  This gives me a sense of wonder and awe, and a sense of the limitations of my own understanding.  But this does not put God out of my reach because, as far as he expands, she is still right here with me.

I am struck that whilst the universe is unfolding and expanding, gravity keeps us rooted to where we are.  There is an expanding force and a grounding force.  Again, this seems to me to be a picture of God – ever creating and expanding and always beyond our grasp.  And yet at the same time so firmly within us – drawing us down as we search for him in our souls; rooting and anchoring us when we feel set adrift.  This is also a picture of what I need to let my mind do – I want my mind to expand, to open up to all that is there and I want my mind to be rooted and anchored in God.  My mind, or my soul?  Probably both. The sense of being opened up to all there is, to all God is, is freeing.  The sense of being rooted and anchored, of finding God deep within me, when I explore under all the masks I wear, is grounding and gives me a safety and a peace which is beyond that which the world gives me.  With these contrasting forces it is not an ‘either, or’ but a ‘both, and’ – a picture of the love that God is: more generous and all-encompassing than our finite brains can understand.

How do I begin to recognise God in everything?  I begin to slow down, to take time, to pause.  There is a presence in animals – we may sense it more clearly in animals we are close to – those who work with animals or who have pets may be particularly attuned to this.  There is something powerful in recognising God manifest in an animal you are close to.  But can we also recognise God’s presence in: trees and plants; rocks and stones; the sea and the sky; the stars and the planets.  St Francis called all things sister or brother.  This gave him an affinity with all of creation which in turn gave him an affinity with God.  ‘Draw close to God and he will draw close to you.’  She is on your doorstep wherever you are: whether you are privileged to live in view of mountains or sea; whether you live in a tower block or cramped conditions where you jostle against other humans.  In the smallest plant that pushes its way through the tarmac; in the biggest creature moving through the ocean; in the planets and stars we see as we orbit and are orbited.  God’s presence – love available at every turn.

 

Musing #3:  Lessons from Harry Potter (i)

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Harry Potter let me describe to you a scene in the first book.  Harry, Ron and Hermione are attempting to find the Philosophers Stone which they know is hidden through a trapdoor under a huge three headed dog.  They manage to get past the dog and drop down through the trapdoor into the unknown.  Their fall is broken by a plant, which seems fortunate until the plant begins wrapping its tendrils around them and they recognise that they are in huge danger.

Hermione is the one who recognises the plant as ‘Devil’s Snare’ and has to wrack her brains to remember how to free them.  In the book Hermione is not caught by the plant and orders the boys to ‘stop moving’, in the film Hermione is trapped too but releases herself by relaxing – Harry follows her instructions, but Ron continues to panic and the plant grips him tighter.  The words that echo in my head are in the film and said by Hermione to Harry about Ron: He’s not relaxing is he?

I feel like I can hear these words being said about me.  Sometimes it’s like I’ve tried to drop down into that deeper place and something has caught me – maybe an idea, maybe a meeting or an activity, maybe a book or a person.  At first being caught seemed like a good thing but then that distraction starts, metaphorically, attacking me; stopping me from dropping deeper and actually ‘killing’ me.  And the way out of this situation? I need to relax.  I need to disengage.  I need to still my mind – find what Rumi calls ‘that pure bead in the centre’ – and then all those things that have been clinging onto me will release me and I can drop deeper.  Letting go of things that are not important is a vital practise, but sometimes the practise is one of relaxing and finding peace, so that the things that cling to us will let us go.  Sometimes the way to the deeper place is to stop struggling and relax.

In both the book and film poor Ron finds it impossible to relax and the plant grips tighter, threatening to take his life.  I feel his pain! Hermione has to come to the rescue by remembering that – in the book – the plant does not like warmth or – in the film – that the plant does not like sunlight. 

So, if we find it practically impossible to relax, the way that we can be helped is through warmth and light.  Powerful elements from which the ‘Devil’s Snare’ shrinks.  For me, this is a potent image of the powerful energy of love which loosens the grip of the things that hold us and stop us dropping deeper into love.  Sometimes we need the light and the warmth of love to free us so that we can drop into its arms.

Interesting that the plant is called devil’s snare.  Interesting that it is possible to free yourself from it by relaxing. Interesting that it shrinks away from light and warmth.  Lots to ponder: lots to learn!

 

 

 All is Well: A Journey in Contemplation

c. Getting Started

Where does this contemplative journey begin?  Maybe the first thing to recognise is that the journey has begun – you are already on the road.  If you’re reading this blog you’re already thinking about contemplation and may well already be developing some practises that help you.  The danger here is that we procrastinate – we spend our time trying to find the practise that is perfect for us; or we read endless books about the benefits of contemplation or the science behind it; or we get bogged down in the theology; or we make a very long list about all the reasons why we can’t get started!  So, begin by recognising that you have started, and that Love dwells within you and is with you.  You are not alone.

Everyone is different, and though some have given very particular guidelines on how to meditate or express gratitude or pray, in the end what we do is up to us.  And what each of us do will differ, and that doesn’t matter.  There are no hard and fast rules here, but there is lots of wisdom to draw on and that can be helpful.  Any wisdom I have about getting started is gleaned from others: here let me share some of the basics that I have found helpful.

A first step is to slow down.  Our tendency in modern life is to fill our life completely to the brim – our lives become so full that we end up rushing from appointment to appointment; grabbing food on the go; squeezing in a conversation here and a visit there.  The answer to ‘how are you?’ has become ‘busy’, and often that is seen as a very positive thing.  In fact, if you can’t reel off a list of all the things you have been doing recently you can be made to feel a bit like a failure.  For some of us the Covid lockdowns created space and time – many of the things we had filled our lives with came to a standstill: we were released from that prison of activity and focused on what really mattered.  It was a lesson:  we need to slow down.  We need to eat a meal and really experience what it tastes like.  We need to have a conversation and really listen.  We need to pause before moving on to the next thing on the list.  Here we have a battle with our ego – we feel better about ourselves when we feel needed; when we have something special to talk about; when we can be the centre of attention.  But if we are to slow down we will have to let go of these things.  How often have you heard people claim that they don’t have enough time?  As you read this are you already thinking: I don’t have time to slow down?  We will have to ‘deny ourselves’ and let the ego die a little.  The truth of the matter is that I cannot magically make time.  To find the time to slow down, I am going to have to die a little.  I am going to have to let go of some things and consider what I want to hold onto. And whatever it is that you’re holding onto really tightly – that you really don’t want to let go of – can you try to open your hand a little?  Can you hold it more lightly?  Can you open your hand and let whatever it is rest there instead of gripping it?  When we let go, when we loosen our grip, we create space.  When we slow down, we open up gaps.  Gaps into which God can climb; space into which God can grow.

How tempting it is to fill the space we open up with noise.  I have enjoyed my own company most of my life.  Or maybe I have thought I have.  Because what I have enjoyed is listening to the radio or reading a book.  It is so easy to fill our lives with information and communication.  We no longer just have the radio or books, we have tv and podcasts and emails and Facebook and Instagram…  As soon as we make space there are literally hundreds of things waiting to invade that space and fill it.  We easily fill up the space that God could have climbed into.  To keep that space open we need the ‘disciplines’ of silence, stillness and solitude.

The wonderful gifts of silence, stillness and solitude can be taken at your own pace and according to your own need.  For myself I know that I have only dipped my toe into each – there is so much more there.  Because these three are expansive, free and freeing.  It is important to recognise that it is not easy for everyone to find a place of silence or stillness, or to be on their own in solitude – if it is difficult for you try taking the opportunities as and when they arise.  To me these three are like blankets that we can wrap ourselves in and part of the ‘trick’ is to recognise opportunities and take them.  For me days at home were often accompanied by the radio – even when I was not really listening to it – the discipline of leaving the radio off has opened up some silence for me.  Times of solitude have been taken through walking home from work instead of taking the bus or making the most of washing up or doing another chore on my own.  I probably find stillness the biggest challenge which leads us on to ‘meditation’.

Meditation is taking time to be still.  To still not just the body but also the mind.  On a contemplative journey it is a key practise, and there are many books you can read about it and much advice you can find.  My advice would simply be to have a go.  Have a go, remembering that nobody says this is an easy practise.  Don’t judge what happens: don’t think about your failure or success.  To the extent that you can, just be.  Your mind will fill with thoughts, you will find yourself distracted, or you may find yourself asleep.  Forgive yourself, turn back to God, and try again.  But try not to try – just be.  Again, different people will find different things helpful. Some find a sacred word helpful; for others engaging with one particular sense can help to still the mind; for others a mental picture can enable them to let go of thoughts.  I sometimes get a sense of where I am sitting inside of myself – as I relax into meditation I can let myself drop deeper, underneath all the agitation and, sometimes for a moment, the thoughts slip away.  I find I need to let go and purposefully orient myself towards God, towards Love – there is something intentional – I am not ‘switching off’ I am switching on to something divine that is beyond my understanding.

In my own experience spiritual direction has been very helpful.  A spiritual director is there as a facilitator – they do not tell you what to do but facilitate your relationship with God, inside you and around you.  A simple, well ‘managed’ conversation which helps you unpack what is inside you, also enables you to unpack God inside of you.  You can begin to recognise with greater clarity what God is doing in you and around you.  You can gain support and encouragement when you feel a bit lost: helped to find the piece of Light-God-Love that with nourishment will grow.  In many senses then, spiritual direction is not about keeping you on the ‘right path’ but about recognising God around and within you on your journey.  It is not a case of finding the right direction but of waking up to the fact that God is with, and within, you.

Through this contemplative journey our aim is connection.  God is all about connection rather than separation, so one way in which we can connect with God is through connecting with creation. Many of us will have been privileged to visit a place where the beauty of God’s creation is literally awe-inspiring.  The beauty and grandeur of mountains, the power and peace of the ocean, the comfort and company of a wood or forest.  There are times when we are tangibly touched by what we see, and we feel a stirring in our soul.  Not so many of us will have the fortune to live in a place of such beauty, but even if we do familiarity can lead to us taking what is around us for granted.  It is a discipline to find God in creation – to notice the things of beauty all around us and develop an ‘every day awe’ that can draw us closer to the Divine.  When we slow down we have the time to notice the natural world.  We see creation pushing through any spaces our concrete jungle leaves vacant – an echo of the way God will push into the spaces in our souls that we open up.  And of course, each one of us is a creation of God.  We find God through connecting with each other.  Through creating community and having the humility to see God in each other.

Which brings us to our own bodies.  We are ‘fearfully and wonderfully made’.  For all our problems with image, with what we look like, and our health and the impact this has on our lives, we are ‘fearfully and wonderfully made’.  To recognise that I am made by God is to see my body as sacred in some way.  The Bible talks about the body being the ‘temple of the Lord’ and if I believe that God lives inside me then surely that is what my body is.  We can suffer in many different ways physically and when we do we often suffer mentally, spiritually and emotionally as well.  Our body, mind, spirit and soul are all linked which means that when we look after our body that has an impact on our mind, spirit, soul and our emotions.  We need to consider what we consume and what affect that has on our body.  We need to think about our activity, or lack of it.  Our body is a gift, a temple, a creation of God.  I started fasting on a weekly basis to help myself from a physical health point of view: I felt my gut needed a weekly rest.  I can not completely pin down the affect this has had on me spiritually but there is something.  Maybe giving my gut a rest, somehow gives my soul a rest too.  I can’t explain it, but the different elements of our being are one, so it makes sense to me that when I look after one part of myself the others also benefit.  This I know is a common experience – you don’t need to be an athlete or a wholefood guru to know that when you are fit or when you have eaten well, it is not only your body that feels good.  It has an impact on your whole being.

This wholeness is something we need to hold onto as we continue on our contemplative journey.  Modern life and thinking almost necessitates us to compartmentalise our lives, whether that be to think separately about our physical and mental health or keep our spiritual practises within a designated time. God is not like that.  God is about integrating and bringing things together.  Patterns in nature and his creation teach us this – everything has an impact on everything else: everything is connected.  So, it is critical that we do not think of contemplation as something new that we are going to carve out time for and create a new compartment.  Contemplation needs to be integrated into the whole of my life – wherever I am, whatever I am doing – it is more an attitude of mind than a practise.  Through contemplation I will see that God is woven into all the different threads of my life; I will begin to see the patterns he is making; and wake up to the beauty that she is creating that has always been there.

 

 Poem

Listen

 

Stop for a moment.

Stop for this moment.

Listen

 

Love is calling you.

Reaching out from the pain of the world

Alive in the eyes that yearn for connection

Tingling in the touch that affirms oneness

Seeding in you the joy that life can bring

 

Stop for a moment

Stop for this moment

Attend to the silence

 

Let yourself be held.

Let yourself be healed.

Love touches you,

Comforts you,

Lightens you.

 

Let go of the heaviness that holds you

And fly.

Be alive to life

Be alive to love

Dance in the freedom she brings

 

Listen

To the tuggings in your heart

To the stirrings deep within you

Answer love’s call and dance!