Do some "earthy good"

Active people often have serious criticisms of the word "contemplative." It sounds monkish, escapist, elitist. A friend recently said, "Aren't contemplatives so heavenly minded, they're no earthly good. Mine is an active life. Jesus would never have entered a monastery." If that's what the contemplative life is then she's right, let's have nothing to do with it. But it's not. That's a caricature, not the real thing.

The contemplative life is the path of true compassion, and therefore the way of real, redemptive action in the world (Dag Hammarskjold is among the best, modern and public examples; I've written of him here).

"Contemplation" and "contemporary" come from the same Latin roots: "con" meaning "with," and "tempus," or "time."

So, "contemplative" simply means being truly "contemporary"--that is, fully here, now, immersed in the present. That can't, by definite or practice, be escapist. Contemplatives, then make the best engineers and airline pilots, surgeons and chefs, mothers and teachers. Contemplative living is noble living.

Jesus did not cloister himself away in a monastery. But that that doesn't mean he wouldn't have gone there periodically. Was not his forty days in the wilderness a monastic retreat? And St. Paul's years also, when he was hidden away in Arabia (Galatians 1.17)?

The monastery's prepared many of those who's worldly actions have matter most in our world.

Contemplation is an art. Learn it and you'll do some "earthly good."

Be gentle with each person

Here's a simple practice that will change the way you interact with others, and how you treat yourself.

"Be gentle with each person you meet, for each of them is actually fighting a great battle."  Philo of Alexandria, 20 BCE---50 CE

It is a deeply spiritual practice, and contemplative---that is, it rises from the unceasing, interior prayer you are practicing.

Gentleness arises from the compassion God is birthing in you as you pray.  Gentleness arises from your deep awareness of your own interior battle to be human and holy.  Practice this and you will not only change the little part of the world you inhabit, but you will change yourself, for you too are fighting a great battle.

The essential practice of everyone who desires God

This post is a continuation from yesterday: Contemplation is an interior habit. I draw my mind down into my heart, returning throughout the day over and over again to the Center where Christ dwells---no matter what occupies me exteriorly.

It's a habit that becomes virtue.  And virtue, in turn, becomes instinct---an unceasing recollecting of my being into the presence of the Beloved. This is the essential practice of every Christian, every person who desires God. It is the essence and goal of prayer.

But it doesn't come easily. It requires specific training. Without instruction and practice we live lives alienated from this Center. Jesus said "enter through the narrow gate, walk the hard road."

But many, oblivious, walk an easier path.  They don't even know there's nothing along that way worthy of their love.

Contemplation is true awareness of life as it is

This post is a continuation from yesterday: The idealization had to die for me to find the true path of contemplative living.

Contemplation is not hiding from the world. It's the deepest form of immersion, or better, communion---a true awareness of life as it is, not as it would be, should be, or could be (unhelpful idealizations, fictions, and illusions that keep me outside of and distant from this present moment).

Contemplation is living radically, here, now. Watching the face before me. Listening to her voice. Attending to beauty or pain behind those eyes. Being present in a way that really matters.

Reawakened, I worked too hard

This post is a continuation from yesterday: But even reawakened and hungry for the spiritual Reality that comes through contemplative living, my drive was still too much alive. Desperate for God, I drove my inner life, working too hard at it, always seeking but never finding.

Contemplation was still captive to an idealization.

I still saw in my mind a monk robed and silent and lost in the bliss divine Love. I longed to taste the bliss, but I was not a monk. I was busy, active, involved in the wide and wonderful and sometimes frightful world.

How could I find the way?