My prayer list feels very long tonight. In fact, it is longer than usual and I believe it is going to stay that way for a while. I’ve lit a candle and I’m about to sit in the silence for all these people I know who are ill, or worried or fearful.

This, from “The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything” by James Martin JS resonates with me. Perhaps it will with you. Martin is discussing Walter Burghardt’s definition of prayer: ‘a long, loving look at the real.’ I’m quoting from page 114.

      “Prayer is ‘long,’ said Burghardt, because it is done in a quiet, unhurried way. ‘Loving’ because it happens in a context of love. Prayer is a ‘look’ because it has to be being aware. ‘I do not analyze or argue it, define or describe it,’ wrote Burghardt. ‘I am one with it.’ Finally, prayer is ‘real’ because our spiritual life is primarily about what happened in our daily life.”

Today I am in awe of ways, known and to be made known, that God works in a church community. As I sit here watching the rain and waves, I have no doubt that people in my church are visiting, delivering casseroles, telephoning, email, praying (and other) for those who are ill, grieving and carrying unnamed burdens. Thanks be to God (TBTG) that we know where when and how to be there for each other. It’s faith in action.

     I’m back at the cottage with renewed time and space for thinking, for praying, for sitting in the mystery. I never know what will come along for me to ponder. Today it goes something like this. What it is for each person that anchors his/her bliss? For me it's solitude or to be more precise, it’s being alone. For others it might be something musical, a sport, following politics, a craft. I think of Mary Oliver writing poetry and I am also reminded of Howard Gardner’s ‘Multiple Intelligences’. These blisses may vary as we try different things and as our life changes, but I think that we are born with the seed of whatever it is, and then at some point, with God’s grace, we settle into that one thing that grounds us.
      Ultimately, I believe this is about our path to God, a path that is both universal and particular. Universal in a very general way of understanding. For example, those of you reading this most likely have some idea of what I’m talking about. Particular, in that we each need to find our own language to express it. Here are a few of mine: being with God, resting in God, at-one-ment (atonement).
      I am still wrestling with this, particularly because I am sadly aware that some people never find their bliss, never get settled, but instead remain in a state of anxiety, discontentment and depression about their life. Can that be part of God’s way? Or is it just the luck of the draw? Or…?

My mom was born with a big heart, which served her well for every one of her 101 years. By the end of her life her heart only expressed unconditional love, with none of the worldly trappings. I know this true because I felt it during my last year of visits. As Mom lost the ability to talk, and even to smile, any thoughts and judgments just sloughed off. Her mind and spirit were pure love. Everyone who saw her knew that this was true, too.
       But what about her body? We had known for years that Mom had an enlarged aorta. It never seemed to effect her physically, and I don't think she even knew about it; it was just part of her medical report.
       I believe that Mom’s heart became too full of love for this world, but her will to live wouldn’t let her give up, and so her heart kept pumping. Right before she died, her heart rate skyrocketed and she appeared agitated, or shall I say uncomfortable. She was given some medication, fell asleep and never woke up. The meds helped her mind and body catch up with her spirit.
       My mom died with the big heart she was born with. And oh, in between she used it well.

     I am not Roman Catholic, nor ever have been, but I’ve always appreciated much that the tradition has offered me as a Christian--the history, the saints and the rich gifts of the various religious orders, to name a few. I’ve read and studied the Rule of St. Benedict and am attracted to it’s invitation to hospitality and living in community. The stories of St. Francis helping the poor are compelling, especially, I must confess, because of my love of Assisi and the Umbrian countryside, and of Giotto’s frescoes in the Church of St. Francesco.

     But for me, I have gained my deepest religious strength from the Society of Jesus, specifically from the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, founder of the order, often referred to as the Jesuits. A few years ago I explored, studied, or more to the point, I prayed the Spiritual Exercises with a church lay group. It was a pivotal experience in my life of prayer and in my faith journey.

     I am now returning to those exercises, the catalyst being the book, The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything, by James Martin, SJ., suggested to me by a friend. How’s this for the introductory to the Spiritual Exercises?

       “Human beings are created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by means of doing this to save their souls.”

       It’s exciting to begin again. Let the exercises begin!

On www.acottagebythesea.net I just posted some thoughts about the book Brother Sun, Sister Moon: Saint Francis of Assisi’s Canticle of the Creatures (reimagined by Katherine Paterson, illustrated by Pamela Dalton), a 2011 rendition of St. Francis’ ‘Canticle of the Sun’. On this blog I want to say a little bit about the prayer of St. Francis. Whether you have wandered about the Umbrian countryside when St. Francis lived (1181-1226) or have only read the “Canticle of the Sun”, I trust that you can feel the love of God’s creation being sent to you across the miles and over thecenturies. Breathe it in. I’ve posted it here and under prayers.

The Canticle of the Sun

by Francis of Assisi

Most high, all powerful, all good Lord! All praise is yours, all glory, all honor, and all blessing. To you, alone, Most High, do they belong. No mortal lips are worthy to pronounce your name.

Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures, especially through my lord Brother Sun, who brings the day; and you give light through him. And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendor! Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.

Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars; in the heavens you have made them, precious and beautiful.

Be praised, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air, and clouds and storms, and all the weather, through which you give your creatures sustenance.

Be praised, My Lord, through Sister Water; she is very useful, and humble, and precious, and pure.

Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Fire, through whom you brighten the night. He is beautiful and cheerful, and powerful and strong.

Be praised, my Lord, through our sister Mother Earth, who feeds us and rules us, and produces various fruits with colored flowers and herbs.

Be praised, my Lord, through those who forgive for love of you; through those who endure sickness and trial. Happy those who endure in peace, for by you, Most High, they will be crowned.

Be praised, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death, from whose embrace no living person can escape. Woe to those who die in mortal sin! Happy those she finds doing your most holy will. The second death can do no harm to them.

Praise and bless my Lord, and give thanks, and serve him with great humility.

(translated by Bill Barrett from the Umbrian text of the Assisi codex.)

The following is a quote from Sister Madonna Kolbenschlag (d.2000), from The Mystic Vision: Daily Encounters with the Divine, compiled by Andrew Havey and Anne Baring. It is too long as a ‘Daily Quote’. Anything I might say about seems superfluous, so I suggest that you sit in the silence with it. That’s what I’m doing.

      I think our concept of God is a product of our own dualistic thinking, which is that things are either transcendent of immanent. And I don’t believe that anymore. Spirit and matter are not split in the manner that we have stereo-typically thought of it. My experience of God is of being transcendent and immanent all at once…I no longer believe that God is up there, and I don’t believe that God is only within me, and I don’t believe that God is merely out there in history. I thing we are actually in God at all times.

I’m reading Gratefulness, the Heart of Prayer: An Approach to Life in Fullness, by Brother David Steindl-Rast. Life is a gift from God. Easy to accept, easy that is when I hear the news of a friend’s successful surgery: easy when I think of my mom’s grace-filled 101 years: easy when I watch the glistening rays of the sun on the water. But what about those turbulent times? Where is the gift when chemo fails, when a life short-lived ends in tragedy, when the storm destroys? Those are opportunities to keep faithful in the mystery, to be hopeful in things unseen, and to find God through charity. It’s a challenge; I have to keep believing in the gift and the giver.

 

There’s much ado about God these days, and particularly around  New England as the Patriots are about to take on the Denver Broncos. So many ways for each of us to consider all the interest and hype about Tebow and the power of prayer. There’s nothing new to be said, so I am going post this before the game begin, which is in about 5 minutes.

    I’ll just leave you with one little snippet. Yes, it’s about the weather. I’m very grateful that I’m not sitting in the 10 degree, and falling, temperature at Gillette Stadium. If God is in charge of the weather, whatever was God thinking!