Practicing the Jesus Prayer, part one of two

Continued from a previous series of posts on the stages of spiritual growth . . . Find a quiet place. Sit still. Back straight. Begin by greeting the Light, the Beloved. Follow your easy breath, in and out. Survey your whole body, beginning with the toes and ending with the nose. Release all tension. Sink into the Presence of God. Gently breathe, giving your thoughts the freedom to come and go. Like snowflakes, you may notice them but you mustn’t hold them. Simply let them fall.

Letting them fall won’t be easy. Your mind will parade many things in front of you. To-do lists, problems you’re dealing with, dreams you have for yourself will lure your attention away from God. The barking dog next door will annoy you. Memories from long ago will entertain you. Ugly things too will crowd in upon you—lusts, fears, ambitions. Don’t fight them, judge them, or follow them. Just watch them and become aware that you’re aware of them. This awareness is the key. When you’re aware, you’re present—to God and to your self before God.

This is pure prayer.  Resting.  Waiting.  Being.

To be continued . . .

Advancing in the spiritual life: the Jesus Prayer as partner

Continued from previous posts . . . As part of this current series of posts about the stages of spiritual growth, I wrote most recently about the experience called “The Wall.” At the Wall, you have to face what’s standing in the way between you and God—and that’s never easy. “It’s your spiritual practice,” I wrote, “especially interior prayer, meditation, and contemplation that will see you through to the new you that awaits you on the other side.”  In the next few posts, I’ll open up to you a simple way to practice interior prayer.

The method of prayer I’ll teach you is very, very old. Old as St. Paul who taught us to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5.12). Old as Jesus who taught us that the “Kingdom of God is within you” (Luke 17.21), and that when we pray we’re not to go on babbling as so many religious people do, but are instead to enter the closet of our hearts and commune simply with God (Matthew 6.6). A form of this kind of praying is quite possibly as old as Elijah and the prophets of Israel who knew that God’s voice was best heard in “the sound of sheer silence” (1 Kings 19.12).

The Prayer of the Heart (the Jesus Prayer, contemplative prayer, etc) is the most universal spiritual “technology” for achieving what all people seek: union with God. That it’s relatively unknown today doesn’t mean it’s strange or esoteric. Nor is it only for monks and mystics. The monks and mystics all agree that it’s the most beneficial and easily practiced form of prayer available to the most active of people. For millennia housewives and blacksmiths, kings and farmers have practiced the Prayer of the Heart, nourishing a vital spiritual life, cultivating virtue, and living humble lives of love and grace, compassion and courage—bringing hope and wholeness to our often fragile and wounded, yet beautiful world.

In the posts that follow I'll offer you a little guide to this ancient and durable practice that’s making a come back in our day—and not a moment too soon, for the state of our world sorely needs the kind of women and men who are shaped by it.

To be continued . . .

Lectio Divina Might Save Your (Prayer) Life

About the practice of Lectio Divina (divine or spiritual reading), author and blogger, Tony Jones, says:

I discovered lectio divina many years ago, during a very spiritually dry time in my life. In the time since, I have practiced lectio innumerable times, and it’s become a core aspect of my spirituality. Maybe even more importantly, it’s given me a renewed sense of love and appreciation for the Bible (and that’s saying something).

I could say much the same.  (And here's a sample from my own blog)

For more, and for links to his books click here.  Tony's book(s) are a good guide to this practice, especially for Protestants new to the practice.

The Fourth Stage of Spiritual Growth: "Second Awakening"

Continued from previous posts: A mature and involved Christian once came to me privately and asked, "Isn't there more to the Christian life than this?" Here was an elder, active in ministry, highly competent at work, well-established and respected, but who came to a point where all these things tasted like straw, felt empty, no longer life giving.

Too often those who begin to experience this arid, desert like experience in their spiritual lives ignore it and keep doing what they're doing until they just run out of steam. Sometimes they find another cause that energizes them, or they become angry and frustrated about things at church or the denomination, and this too energizes them. But this new energy dissipates after a while and unless they find something new to excite them for awhile, that nagging sense of emptiness returns. Others figure they're facing some kind of burnout, and they drop out of commitments that no longer nourish or satisfy and they find themselves drifting spiritually.

Too few explore their experience with a pastor or spiritual friend or director. If they did, and that friend was seasoned enough to discern the work of the Holy Spirit in the person's life, they'd learn that rather than a problem to get through by working harder, or burnout that requires them to drop out, what they're experiencing is a genuine sign of an invitation from God to move into a new stage of spiritual growth: stage four, or what I call "Second Awakening."

To be continued . . .

To grow in prayer, get this simple book

If I could keep with me only two books and a journal, this book would be one of the books. As far as I'm concerned it's the most important book (and among the most influential) on Christian prayer in the last two millennia. We don't know the author's name, but only that he was a British monk, living in the fourteenth century. The Cloud of Unknowing is a personal letter written to a young person seeking fulfillment in Christ through prayer. The author's lesser known companion essay, The Book of Privy Counsel, is a follow up letter to the young disciple, providing simple yet profound instruction for the life of contemplative prayer.

Carmen Acevado Butcher's new translation is a gem. She draws the earthy language of the fourteenth century into the idiom of our own. You'll feel like the monk is speaking directly to you.