Meditation: PRACTICING THE PRESENCE by John de Gruchy

PRACTICING THE PRESENCE

Luke 10:38-42

"Martha, Martha you are worried and distracted by many things, there is need of only one thing."

"We should establish ourselves in a sense of God's Presence, by continually conversing with him."

(Brother Lawrence, The Practice of the Presence of God)

St. Augustine was a theologian and bishop, Julian of Norwich was a visionary locked in her cell, and St. John of the Cross was a monastic reformer and poet but, you may be pleased to know, the fourth Christian mystic we will meet on this Lenten journey, was a cook.  He would have fitted well into Volmoed, so today without further ado or even waiting to check it out with the Trustees, I declare Brother Lawrence (1611-1691) our patron saint. 

Born Nicholas Herman, Brother Lawrence was a soldier for eighteen years before he became a treasurer to the King of France.  But since the age of eighteen he had a great sense of God's loving guidance in his life in all its aspects.  This, in turn, awoke in him a great love for God, which led him to make the love of God the end of all his actions.  That was the reason why he eventually decided to become  a monk because he thought he could then spend his days in prayer and contemplation.  So he joined a Carmelite monastery in Paris.  He did not want to be like Martha, distracted by the busyness of everyday life; he desired, rather,  to be like Mary and spend quality time with Jesus in quiet contemplation. 

So you can imagine how annoyed he was at first when the Abbot decided that he was not to spend his days in quiet contemplation, but  to work amid the noise and clutter of the monastery kitchen.  Unlike Mary  whose example he craved, he had to become Martha and busy himself with ensuring that there was wine in the cellar and food on the table.  But it was precisely in that busy schedule of daily life, , that Brother Lawrence learnt to practice the presence of God irrespective of where he was or what he was doing.  And that is the heart of what mysticism is about: a deep awareness of the love of God in the midst of our daily lives despite its distractions and busyness.  You can be Martha and still choose the better part that Mary had.  In Brother Lawrence contemplation and daily work are brought together.  Contemplation is not an escape from reality and the daily round of necessary activity; it is a way of engagement with God in the midst of our inescapable responsibilities.

Brother Lawrence did not have the time to  write books or poetry like some of the other great mystics, but he did keep a notebook of his sayings and thoughts, and he also wrote many letters, all of which were found in his cell after his death.  These were collected by the Abbot of the monastery.  He  also collected notes of conversations that various people had had with Brother Lawrence, and published all of these in a very small book which he called The Practice of the Presence of God.  This slender volume has had a remarkable influence over the centuries, and continues to be published in a variety of languages.  You might call it "every person's" guide to mysticism, for you don't have to be a saint, priest or recluse to do what Brother Lawrence did.  The Christian life, Brother Lawrence is telling us, is an ongoing loving conversation with God.  What we simply have to do is daily practice the presence of God in our lives like a pianist who daily practices the piano.   Loving God requires daily practice.

Of course, this is not easy, and in some situations it might be difficult.  After all, as Bonhoeffer once said, you don't normally think about God when you are cuddling up to your wife or husband in bed!  But even if you do, it is unlikely that a rugby player will be practising the presence of  God in the middle of a scrum even if a soldier might do so in the heat of battle facing possible death.  But in the normal round of life, in our relationships, in our daily work, and especially in times when life gets tough, or anger takes hold of us, or envy and greed, being mindful that God is present and loves us will make all the difference to what we say and do.  Difficult, of course, but that's why we have to practice the presence,  or get into the habit as it were. 

Like most of us, Brother Lawrence had periods of spiritual dryness when he found prayer difficult. But that did not mean that he stopped practising the presence of God, whether at daily prayer in the monastery chapel or at daily work in the monastery kitchen.  So he learnt, as he tell us, "doing little things for the love of God," because God "regards not the greatness of the work, but the love with which it is performed."  It did not matter that he had to peel potatoes while other monks were busy in the library or deep in contemplation.  What mattered was doing his work out of love for God. "The time of business," he wrote, "does not ... differ from the time of prayer; and in the noise and clutter of my kitchen... I possess God in as great tranquillity as if I were upon my knees at the Blessed Sacrament."

Brother Lawrence did not follow any set method of prayer and contemplation, his method, he said,  was "simple attention...and a general passionate regard to God; to whom I find myself attached with greater sweetness and delight than that of an infant at a mother's breast."  Like an infant who cuddles up in the embrace of his mother, he sensed that he was continually being embraced in the warmth of an infinite love that nourished and gave him life.  In a letter to one of his friends who was a soldier, Brother Lawrence writes:

We have a God who is infinitely gracious, and knows all our wants...He will come in his own time and when you least expect it.  Hope in him more than ever; thank him for the favours he does you, particularly for the fortitude and patience which he gives you in our afflictions; it is a plain mark of the care he takes of you; comfort yourself then with him, and give thanks for all.

That is practicing the presence of God.  If God is the love that embraces then practicing the presence of God means daily giving thanks, daily placing our trust and hope in God, daily seeking to love others, not just those who are close to us, but all those we encounter.  Practicing the presence of God means learning to forgive, learning to serve the needs of others, learning to do what is right, learning to be compassionate and just.  Like a pianist who daily practices in order to master his music, so the Christian who follows Brother Lawrence's example, daily practices love for God through practicing love even in the kitchen.

John de Gruchy

Volmoed 

Lent 4  

23 March 2017

Meditation: THE SPIRAL OF LOVE by Isobel de Gruchy

THE SPIRAL OF LOVE

John 19:16b- 19; 25b-30

 “I was taught that love is our Lord’s meaning.,”

(Showings  Julian of Norwich)

Julian of Norwich is the second Christian mystic I have chosen for our Lenten meditations.  Thomas Merton regarded Julian was one of  the greatest English theologians.  She was certainly the first.  As she is also Isobel's favourite, I have asked Isobel to write today's meditation, with a little bit of editing from my side.  Julian's character  is revealed through her writing, and both who she was and what she wrote have been very meaningful to Isobel since she first came across her in the 1980s.  Although her most famous saying is: "All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." Her last words that have come down to us sum up what she discovered in contemplating Christ on the cross:  “I was taught that love is our Lord’s meaning,” An important reminded of the purpose of this Lenten journey to the cross.

Julian was a young woman, only thirty year old, living in Norwich in England in 1343 when she fell seriously ill. As she lay dying she had a series of visions in which she saw, as though she were present, Jesus being crucified, and other “showings“ as she called them. She recovered from her illness and entered a cell attached to the church of St Julian and became an anchorite, sealed in her cell for a life of contemplation, though frequently visited for counsel. She wrote down what she had seen in her visions and for the next twenty years meditated on their meaning, questioning what she had been shown, wrestling with the issues raised, and receiving other insights from God. These she recorded in a book in the language she spoke, the language of Chaucer, making her the first woman author in the English language.

The Medieval world Julian inhabited is not our world, and therefore it is sometimes difficult to relate to it, but once we break through that barrier, we discover a depth of spirituality that we often lack.  After all, her world was also much like our own.  It was a world of war and violence, of the plague, poverty and much suffering.  So keep that in mind as we listen to Julian speak.  She was a woman of her time, but she also speaks to our time.  Amid our busyness and noise, her contemplative life-style calls us to discover God in the silence.

Julian starts by telling us that she had three wishes or longings in her Christian life. In her own words,

My wish was for God to give me three graces: the first was to experience, as though I were present, Christ’s Passion; the second was a bodily sickness and the third was three wounds. I already felt deeply about Christ’s Passion but I longed for more. I wanted, by God’s grace, to feel as though I were actually there with Mary Magdalene and Jesus’ other friends – to see with my own eyes what he suffered for me. I wanted to suffer with him as others who loved him had done. (chap. 2)

The second grace she asked for strikes us today as very strange. She desired a ‘bodily sickness’, something just short of actual death. Being aware that even then this was unusual, she added that the first two graces should fall within God’s will for her.

On the eighth day of May in 1373, God granted Julian’s second ‘wish’ along with it the first. She fell seriously ill. When it seemed death was near, her curate was sent for; he gave her the Last Rites and held a crucifix in front of her. As she felt death closing in, she remembered her wish for the second wound - that Christ’s pains would be her pains - to lead her nearer to God. She then saw Christ on the cross as he hung in agony.  Her description is vivid and realistic, picturing Christ's blood streaming down his face from the crown of thorns.  She writes:  "It came to me, truly and powerfully, that he, who is both God and a man, and who suffered for me, was now showing this to me without any intermediary."  This is the first of Julian's Showings.  She saw the crucifixion as though she was there but didn’t exaggerate it for the sake of morbid effect. She simply, longed to “experience the Passion as though she were present”.  The hideousness of the crucifixion, brought her real physical pain, yet she also experienced great joy.

For in this death there is life,

In this suffering, joy,

in this hideous act,

the turning point of history:

and Christ who is highest and noblest,

mightiest and most honourable,

is also lowest and humblest,

and graciously our friend.

Rejoice and delight in this

and live with his strength and grace.

                                                           

                                                           

The vision affected her deeply as she contemplated its meaning and saw more vividly Christ’s agony and the blood flowing for the redemption of humankind. She even began to regret that she had ever even thought of asking to be present. Then she was pained at the thought that she wanted to escape from it.   When it all became too much to bear Julian wanted to turn her gaze away from the cross towards heaven to find solace.  We would surely do the same.  Isobel writes:

There is so much suffering,

for so many, for so long:

it disturbs us, depresses us,

threatens to suck us into its black depths.

Julian felt the same,

for she saw the suffering of Christ

on the cross,

...

It became too much to bear,

and she wanted to look away,

to look to heaven

for there was safety

and an end to grief.

But she did not.

She chose to keep on looking at Christ,

staying with his suffering.

So she came to see that

Christ was her heaven,

and the joy that came later,

came only because she stayed her gaze

on the crucified Christ.

                                

Julian's language night not be everybody's cup of tea, but she takes us deeply into the meaning of Christ's passion as we struggle with our own pain.  She was a person full of good sense and warmth, whose vivid imagery expresses a gentle humanity.  Instead of the "spiral of violence" we encounter in the world, she offers us a "spiral of love."  But it all began as she stood in contemplation with Mary at the foot of the cross and  expressed in her final words:  “I was taught that love is our Lord’s meaning.”

Isobel de Gruchy

Volmoed 

9 March  

Lent 2

See Isobel de Gruchy  Marking all things Well: Finding Spiritual strength with Julian of Norwich (Norwich: Canterbury Press, 2012)

Meditation: A RESTLESS HEART FALLS IN LOVE by John de Gruchy

A RESTLESS HEART FALLS IN LOVE

Matthew 11:28-30

"Take my yoke upon you...and you will find rest for your souls."

“Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.”

St. Augustine "Confessions"

On the Sunday before Lent some Christians celebrate the Feast of the Transfiguration.  You know the story well.  Jesus takes Peter, James and John up a high mountain where they experience Jesus together with Moses and Elijah transfigured before their eyes.  They are overwhelmed by the presence of God.  But the vision soon passes and they go with Jesus down the mountain to begin their journey to Jerusalem and the cross.  Some would call their mountain top experience mystical, an experience in which the disciples are caught up in the Spirit just as Moses was on Mountain Sinai or Elijah on Mount Carmel.  These were overwhelming experiences of God as Moses led the freed slaves on their journey to their land of promise, and before God sent Elijah  back into the political maelstrom to speak truth to power.  So, too, Jesus and the disciples are overwhelmed by God's presence as they begin their journey to the cross.

I begin this promised Lenten series on the "Christian Mystics" on the Mount of Transfiguration in order to make it plain that Christian mysticism is not a way of escape from the world, but a profound sense of the presence of God that enables us to live life fully in the world.  It is not a religious experience that separates us from our fellows and our responsibilities, but an experience of God that enables us to live more compassionately, responsibly and justly.  Of course, mysticism means different things to different people and different traditions, but for Christians it is all about being overwhelmed by God in the midst of daily life, even though it may begin on a mountain top.  It is like falling in love.  It begins in ecstasy when we are overwhelmed by beauty, but being and remaining in love takes place in the daily, ordinary course of life with its hum-drum chores and inevitable suffering.  But that does not mean who have falled out of love, for it is that experience that sustains you over the long haul. This is the testimony of St. Augustine, the first of the "Christian mystics" whose journey into the mystery of the love of God  we will reflect on this first week in Lent.

Augustine was born in 354 in present day Algeria.  His father was a pagan and his mother, Monica, a devout Christian who ensured that he had a Christian education.  But soon after he went to university in Carthage , turned his back on Christianity and took a mistress to whom he was faithful for fifteen years.  Augustine was particularly interested in philosophy and became a member of the Manichaean religious sect.  But after nine years of seeking the truth he abandoned the sect and opened a school of philosophy in Rome.  Soon after he went north to Milan where he came under the influence of the bishop, St. Ambrose.  But it took a while before he himself was converted as he struggled with his intellectual doubts and  his carefree way of life.  He was a restless soul searching for true love and peace.  Eventually, while reading Paul's letter to the Romans, he made his decision and on Easter Day 387 he was baptized.  He returned to North Africa and while visiting the city of Hippo (Annaba) he was suddenly seized by the people who presented him to the bishop for ordination!  Not too long after he himself became the bishop.  And thus began a remarkable career during which he wrote several books that have profoundly influenced the development of Christianity. Augustine died in 430 as the Vandals from the North were attacking Hippo, having already destroyed Rome.

As a bishop struggling to deal with powerful heresies that were dividing the church, and living in a time of tumultuous political change, Augustine was deeply engaged in the life of the world.  But his involvement was profoundly shaped by his deep mystical spirituality which he describes in the pages of his Confessions, one of the most significant books ever written in the history of Christianity.  It is a very personal book in which he tells us the story of  his search for truth over the thirty years before he finally decided to become a Christian.  But looking back over his life he discerns how it was the God in whom we “live and move and have our being” who was actually always seeking him!  “I should not have sought you unless you had already found me!” Augustine cries out.  He also comes to the realization that God's truth is not to be found in the proudly wise, but in the humble of heart.  And, he confesses, his search for truth only came to fulfillment when his restless heart found rest in God. “You have made us for yourself, O Lord," he says in his most often quoted words,  "and our hearts are restless until they finds their rest in you.”

Several times in his Confessions Augustine relates his experience to the words of Jesus: "Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."  This is precisely what Augustine discovered.  In taking up Jesus' yoke, or the discipline of discipleship that we are reminded about each Lent, Augustine found that it fitted him perfectly, and in following Jesus he discovered that his restless heart was finally at peace, finally happy and filled with joy.  Such joy is not just the starting point of Christian mysticism, it characterizes it all the way on the journey ahead.  For it is all about falling in love with the one who first loves us, and loves us with the passion of Calvary.  We can't explain it in carefully constructed words, only in poetry and praise; we cannot say precisely what has happened to us, because such love defies analysis.  But the first thing to learn about  Christian mysticism is that it is about falling in love with the source and fount of love.  Here is how Augustine describes it:

Late have I loved you, beauty so old and so new: late have I loved you. And see, you were within and I was in the external world and sought you there, and in my unlovely state I plunged into those lovely created things which you made. You were with me, and I was not with you. The lovely things kept me far from you, though if they did not have their existence in you, they had no existence at all. You called and cried out loud and shattered my deafness. You were radiant and resplendent, you put to flight my blindness. You were fragrant, and I drew in my breath and now pant after you. I tasted you, and I feel but hunger and thirst for you. You touched me, and I am set on fire to attain the peace which is yours.

John de Gruchy

Volmoed 

1 March 2017

First week in Lent