Our place is not the auditorium but the stage—or, as the case may be, the field, workshop, study, laboratory—because we ourselves form part of the creative apparatus of God, or at least are meant to form part of the creative apparatus of God. He made us in order to use us, and use us in the most profitable way; for His purpose, not ours. To live a spiritual life means subordinating all other interests to that single fact. Sometimes our positions seems to be that of tools; taken up when wanted, used in ways which we had not expected for an object on which our opinion is not asked, and then laid down. Sometimes we are the currency used in some great operation, of which the purpose is not revealed to us. Sometimes we are servants, left year in, year out to the same monotonous job. Sometimes we are conscious fellow-workers with the Perfect, striving to bring the Kingdom in. But whatever our particular place or job may be, it means the austere conditions of the workshop, not the free-lance activities of the messy but well-meaning amateur; clocking in at the right time and tending the machine in the right way. Sometimes, perhaps, carrying on for years with a machine we do not very well understand and do not enjoy; because it needs doing, and no one else is available. Or accepting the situation quite quietly, when a job we felt that we were managing excellently is taken away. Taking responsibility if we are called to it, or just bringing the workers their dinner, cleaning and sharpening the tools. All self-willed choices and obstinacy drained out of what we thought to be our work; so that it becomes more and more God’s work in us.
Evelyn Underhill, The Spiritual Life, "Cooperation with God,"
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
Sometimes feels like a big fight!
The past two weeks, trying to center my heart in God has felt like one long fight, with God, with my will (and my won't), and my ego. Over and over I have caught myself yelling, sometimes at myself and often at God. When I yell at myself the harsh, critical tone of voice and meanness of how I treat myself for not being who/what I think I should be only make me feel like giving up, crawling into bed, and letting despair creep through my being. When I yell at God, it's another way to express my dissatisfaction with how I perceive myself to be functioning (or not), but both kinds of yelling at myself are about me trying to either BE God, to tell God exactly what I think God should be doing in me. Yelling at God is as damaging as yelling at myself, and just as unproductive, but it also prevents me from paying any attention to what God is actually doing/being in and around me. These are both different from trying to do my best in the moment, because when I do that I am making use of my gifts and, by grace, able to be present to God, others, and the needs of the task at hand.
I know from past experience that only surrender and consent, "OK, Lord, do in me what you know needs to be done," get me out of this vicious cycle of thinking I know how I should be. But oh, how hard it can be to get to that surrender. My ego tells me I SHOULD be able to figure this out for myself, and I SHOULD just be more disciplined, and I SHOULD be mature enough by now that I don't need God to have any part in how I function. The world tells me I SHOULD be independent and not lean on the "crutch" of obedience to God, "whatever that means," and that reason/intellect SHOULD be sufficient. But when I wear myself out yelling; when I remember whose I am and am reminded of all the times that surrender led, not to the change I was fussing about, but to even deeper transformation (and often the discovery that God was working on
changing something quite different from what I was fussing about); then I return to a deep peace and trust in God the author of my existence. I may not stay there very long, because that perfectionist, critical spirit will SHOULDer its way to the front of my awareness, and the fight will begin all over again!
But that's OK, as much as I have a hard time believing that. Roberta Bondi says "One of my favorite sayings of the monastics is that prayer is warfare to the last breath. Prayer is hard work -- and painful a lot of the time because it makes us face parts of ourselves and accept parts of ourselves that we'd rather not." ("Learning to Pray: An Interview with Roberta Bondi, The Christian Century, March 20-27, 1996, accessed at www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=302). When I look back over the past two weeks, I can see many graced moments where God broke through my yelling to show me what was getting in the way, and where I experienced God clearing away the rubble of my resistance to letting God be God. Thanks be to God!
I know from past experience that only surrender and consent, "OK, Lord, do in me what you know needs to be done," get me out of this vicious cycle of thinking I know how I should be. But oh, how hard it can be to get to that surrender. My ego tells me I SHOULD be able to figure this out for myself, and I SHOULD just be more disciplined, and I SHOULD be mature enough by now that I don't need God to have any part in how I function. The world tells me I SHOULD be independent and not lean on the "crutch" of obedience to God, "whatever that means," and that reason/intellect SHOULD be sufficient. But when I wear myself out yelling; when I remember whose I am and am reminded of all the times that surrender led, not to the change I was fussing about, but to even deeper transformation (and often the discovery that God was working on
changing something quite different from what I was fussing about); then I return to a deep peace and trust in God the author of my existence. I may not stay there very long, because that perfectionist, critical spirit will SHOULDer its way to the front of my awareness, and the fight will begin all over again!
But that's OK, as much as I have a hard time believing that. Roberta Bondi says "One of my favorite sayings of the monastics is that prayer is warfare to the last breath. Prayer is hard work -- and painful a lot of the time because it makes us face parts of ourselves and accept parts of ourselves that we'd rather not." ("Learning to Pray: An Interview with Roberta Bondi, The Christian Century, March 20-27, 1996, accessed at www.religion-online.org/showarticle.asp?title=302). When I look back over the past two weeks, I can see many graced moments where God broke through my yelling to show me what was getting in the way, and where I experienced God clearing away the rubble of my resistance to letting God be God. Thanks be to God!
Monday, November 15, 2010
Mattering to God--to the world? November 15, 2010
I have had a lot of time over the past several months, for prayer, reading, reflecting, aware of God working in me through the quiet. God has grown my desire to focus on centering my attention, my life, my energy, on God and what God is doing in my life and in the world. I was struck by a line from this morning's lectionary, "I will stand at my watch-post, and station myself on the rampart; I will keep watch to see what he will say to me." (Habakkuk 2: 1) I want to pay this kind of attention as I go through my day today, to return to center whenever I notice (by God's grace) that I have made some task or concern more important than God. I know that I will move away from center, being human and part of a world that has many "idols," matters that take attention away from God. My prayer is that God will remind me and bring my attention back to what really matters. There's that word, "matter," again.
One of the processes that I have been aware of God working on recently is a healing of an old "core belief," residue of my childhood experiences of being abuse, which is the deep conviction that I don't matter, that what I do, feel, want, need, are not important to those who are in a position to provide for my needs (including myself). It has taken me a long time to begin to believe that all of these matter, to me and also to God. Much therapy, much learning, much care from many people, and much healing from God are finally convincing that deep wounded part of me that it does indeed matter to God, and to what God wants to do in and through my life, how I take care of my body, my gifts, my time and energy. As the awareness grows that I do, indeed, matter to God, my commitment to self-care, not as an idolatry but as stewardship, of God's abundant gifts, is growing.
Part of listening to what God is saying to me comes through hearing and responding to what my body tells me I need, not ignoring needs for food, water, movement, rest, connection to other people. My senses also bring me little alerts from God, to the beauty and gifts of God's creation. I have done a lot of driving lately, as the leaves have been turning color, and noticed that I could be driving for miles without paying any attention to the beauty I was passing by. Noticing and saying thank you, how beautiful, lovely, God, became a small spiritual discipline (without distracting me from driving safely!) that I will continue. As Alice Walker's character Shug says in The Color Purple, "I think it pisses God off when you walk by the color purple in a field and don't notice it." As I leave behind the sad belief that I don't matter, my awareness of mattering to God all around, in and through me as part of God's creation is making more sacred my choices about how I respond, make choices, "spend" time.
What are the ways that you know that you matter to God?
One of the processes that I have been aware of God working on recently is a healing of an old "core belief," residue of my childhood experiences of being abuse, which is the deep conviction that I don't matter, that what I do, feel, want, need, are not important to those who are in a position to provide for my needs (including myself). It has taken me a long time to begin to believe that all of these matter, to me and also to God. Much therapy, much learning, much care from many people, and much healing from God are finally convincing that deep wounded part of me that it does indeed matter to God, and to what God wants to do in and through my life, how I take care of my body, my gifts, my time and energy. As the awareness grows that I do, indeed, matter to God, my commitment to self-care, not as an idolatry but as stewardship, of God's abundant gifts, is growing.
Part of listening to what God is saying to me comes through hearing and responding to what my body tells me I need, not ignoring needs for food, water, movement, rest, connection to other people. My senses also bring me little alerts from God, to the beauty and gifts of God's creation. I have done a lot of driving lately, as the leaves have been turning color, and noticed that I could be driving for miles without paying any attention to the beauty I was passing by. Noticing and saying thank you, how beautiful, lovely, God, became a small spiritual discipline (without distracting me from driving safely!) that I will continue. As Alice Walker's character Shug says in The Color Purple, "I think it pisses God off when you walk by the color purple in a field and don't notice it." As I leave behind the sad belief that I don't matter, my awareness of mattering to God all around, in and through me as part of God's creation is making more sacred my choices about how I respond, make choices, "spend" time.
What are the ways that you know that you matter to God?
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Centering in God - What I hope to do 11/9/10
"...by Your love You are the inmost center of my heart, closer to me than I am to myself." Karl Rahner, Encounters with Silence
I am ready to start blogging again after some time away (my wordpress blogs from this summer are in Other Resources). I hope that sharing my efforts to come back to the "inmost center of my heart" will be helpful in my own spiritual journey and for the journeys of any readers. Some days, like today, all I have is the DESIRE to be centered in God, without much feeling, but I have to believe that some days, that is enough, and a sure sign that God is reaching out to me. (I know that seeking feeling for its own sake is a distraction from seeking God Who is not synonymous with how I am feeling about God....) I plan to blog at least 3 times a week, and will see where God goes with this.
I am ready to start blogging again after some time away (my wordpress blogs from this summer are in Other Resources). I hope that sharing my efforts to come back to the "inmost center of my heart" will be helpful in my own spiritual journey and for the journeys of any readers. Some days, like today, all I have is the DESIRE to be centered in God, without much feeling, but I have to believe that some days, that is enough, and a sure sign that God is reaching out to me. (I know that seeking feeling for its own sake is a distraction from seeking God Who is not synonymous with how I am feeling about God....) I plan to blog at least 3 times a week, and will see where God goes with this.
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