A LIVING PRAYER BENCH, ROSTREVOR, NORTHERN IRELAND
My initial intention for the day was simply to pray, to seek, to knock hoping for the door to be opened as Jesus tells us in the Gospel. What I could not plan for was what would come from what seemed a rather simple posture of openness. With a single question in mind I opened my journal to answer the question: What are your images of God right now?
I sat with the question for only a moment when like water flowing over a waterfall or the rush of rapids all the pious sounding platitudes--well rehearsed from years of repetition--spilled onto the page. There were the formal well-loved images of God as priest, prophet, king, shepherd. There were the creedal names of God the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth. The images and accompanying titles flowed and flowed. But then unexpectedly some very un-pious things began to come to mind like 'powerful and yet just stands by' and one who brought me to the party but has left me to dance alone. These came as easily, if not as readily as those others which were not startling. Hopefully you can sense my surprise that my prayer had left polite God conversation.
I continued with whatever feelings, images or ideas came--without judgment (or horror) not wanting to short-circuit the intention of this time to get what was inside of me onto paper so God and I could begin a new dialogue. I wrote and wrote until there were long spaces in between my thoughts...and then finally silence. Thinking about it now, it was as though my prayer had embodied the law of gravity. I was an upside down vessel which was being emptied of its very last drops.
Three things about this experience seem important to share. First, I didn't know and was surprised by all that came onto the pages of my journal. It seems that I was quite happily deluding myself with the sunny and bright images of God I'd learned since childhood. I did not anticipate or expect the magnitude of the shadow-side that I encountered. And that's why I share the second step: In this experience I was intentional to be open to whatever would come. Open to whatever would come. It's not likely that this experience will repeat itself in the same way again...but 'it is what it is' for this time.
The third piece of my prayer experience is actually not about me at all; but about something we've lost in modern spiritual practice, to our diminishment: the act of being covered by the prayers of another. As I entered this time of deep prayer, I was not alone. Though I sat physically by myself, my prayer partner though not within my range of sight was praying for me during my time of seeking and spiritual exploration. I was gratefully aware that I undertook this journey in a safe place of being within someone else's prayer.
What bloomed from my intention to explore my own images of God these many years down my spiritual path was a surprise to me. It seems right to me and a growing edge that needed to be revealed--and in God's mercy, He chose to reveal it when I was supported against its weight by the prayers of another. Seeing my words on the page, I realized the grief, pain and anger I'd been carrying.
But it's never quite as simple as just carrying, is it? We don't just carry anger...it colors our vision, our thoughts, our words, our actions. We don't just carry pain, it spills over into our relationships...often towards those who are innocent. Our grief can block us from receiving what God and others have to offer us. I'm surprised still by the sheer volume of what surely has been blocking any real, true communication between me and God, me and others. It's hard to imagine that I could be unaware of so much. (God and Freud are likely not so surprised!)
Has your heart been stirred, curious, racing as you've read about my experience? If it has, I hope you'll consider it God's invitation to you to take some time to ask the soul-deep question: What are your images of God?
I offer some steps in loving care as a way of preparation: 1. Choose a time and place where you can have at least two hours to yourself-no cell phones allowed. 2. Bring along your journal, or even better yet go get a new one as a metaphor for a new direction or starting point. 3. Bring along a bottle of water and Kleenex--crying whether in joy or sorrow makes you thirsty.
The final essential for this time is this: 4. Ask someone to be in prayer for you for your prayer time. If you're like too many of us there may not be someone you're able to ask to be in prayer for you, so let me offer. I'd be humbled and honored to pray for you across the miles. Let me know when you've set aside the time and I'll put you on my calendar. Really. I think it's that important.
Finally, when you've come to the emptied vessel stage of this important prayer time, when the words have stopped coming and the tears have stopped flowing and you find yourself sitting in the silent Presence of Love, be sure to thank God for the deep love He has always had for you. I found that even giving us words for our shadow, our lostness or fear, our separateness or anger, our feelings of being alone in the universe or in a spiritual desert...giving us these words to say aloud is God's compassion towards us. Because once we've allowed them to come forth, God absorbs them back into Himself. It's a divine reminder that we've never really been alone.
May the deep peace of the Christ be with you on your journey. Kathleen Bronagh Weller, THE CELTIC MONK
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