Someone I know has a treasure. It is so valuable this person has not dared to share it, for fear of diminishing its worth. Anxious that it may be misunderstood and ridiculed, since it is so much a part of her, it was uncomfortable for her to share such intimate details. It seemed almost like a bit of voyeurism.
However, suddenly she wishes to give back, because it has given her so much. Here is her story.
Always having been a seeker, she was young once, and full of intellectual conceit. Her religion was peppered with stories of an angry, punishing God. It did not sit well with her. She felt constrained by so many should and should nots. Buddhism seemed more attractive to her, and she joined the Theosophical Society. Love of all living things and the law of karma made so much more sense, and it was worth a try, but it did not fill her, either.
Eager for answers, she turned to Transcendental Meditation, with its promise of prosperity and union with a higher power, which seemed attractive. Like all trends, it wore off.
Searching, she scaled the mountains of Tibet, sitting close to or inside the temples, listening to the mantric humming of Buddhist monks. They soothed her and brought her to a certain plain where there was peace.
Then some years later, she made a trip to Snowmass in Colorado, this time to a Cistercian monastery, where again, the chanting of monks brought her into deep meditation. There were, as well, endless retreats and seminars. In other words, one could say she had an “oppressive sense of personal confusion.”
She also devoured countless books. Answers, she wanted answers. How does one reach this unreachable God? Then in 1990, while in Snowmass, she stumbled upon a book. It is now worn and almost tattered, full of notes, underlines and highlights. It is constantly by her side, she turns to it when she comes to a crossroads.
The book is “The Cloud of Unknowing,” translated by American psychologist Dr. Ira Progoff. Such an apt, beautiful title, is it not? In the realm of the spiritual, we are in a constant state of unknowing, as if adrift in the clouds.
Intense desire
It was written in the dark period of the Inquisition, and the 14th-century author, believed to be a monk, had dared to write it in the form of a prayer, a contemplative prayer. For fear of reprisal, should the book be found heretical, the author never signed it. The author’s one criteria was that the reader must have an intense desire for a meeting with God in the spirit. After reading a few pages, she knew she had finally found The Book.
To pray, she needed solitude and silence. She discovered that the language of God is silence. The book, which she reads and rereads, explains the endless journey, with its oasis of consolation that alternates with moments of desolation. Moments of encounter with a higher and supreme Being do happen. The book refers to the prayer as “work” and a “task,” to be done constantly and consciously.
From “The Cloud” she learned:
We are all wounded beings, with wounds often inflicted upon us by those we love the most. The afflictions may be intentional, but most of the time they are unintentional. They cut deep, so deep they sear the soul. She was wounded, and this woundedness brought her to seek comfort in prayer. She bore the scars, but they have healed.
Fears—oh how plagued by fears she still is! She brings those to prayer, too. Prayer helps her confront them, grapple with them and sometimes conquer them. Better yet, she has learned to lay them aside.
Probably the greatest gift that the work of contemplative prayer brought to her is the awareness of self—the self that is always flawed, because our human condition is inherently defective. Through contemplative prayer, she started to see herself as she truly is. Instead of deploring what she saw, with this realization came a compassionate acceptance of herself. Only then did her journey begin.
Accessible
One need not scale mountains and chant with monks to find guidance for this type of prayer. Right here in the Philippines, a group has formed the Contemplative Outreach Philippines (COP). It is affiliated with Contemplative Outreach USA. Several Cistercian monks, like Abbot Thomas Keating, Fr. Basil Pennington and Fr. William Meninger, have taken the book “The Cloud of Unknowing” and brought it to contemporary light, making it accessible to many readers. Abbot Keating’s “Open Mind, Open Heart” initiates one to the joys of contemplative prayer.
In a nutshell, contemplative prayer is pure gift from God. It does, however, require some preparation on our part. There’s the choice of a prayer word, and to sit quietly and consent to God’s action in our lives. There is no magic. Nothing supernatural will take place. But contemplative prayer, or centering prayer, tends to build communities of faith and bond the members in mutual love and friendship. You have companions on your journey, and this brings about positive, fruitful interactions and a desire to “give back.”
The root of centering prayer is listening to God’s word in Scripture (Lection Divina). Here my friend found that there were messages, words that came forth. They touched her and spoke to her. There was dialogue and guidance in God’s written word, the Holy Gospel.
In a phrase from centering prayer, “you live ordinary lives with extraordinary love. ”
There is a website you can visit, www.cophil.org.
There are workshops and formation classes you can attend. Refer to the website.
This year, COP will celebrate 25 years—silver years of camaraderie and union in prayer. Pioneers Grace Padilla and Lita Salinas should take a bow. All over Luzon, it is practiced by hundreds. It will grow as more and more people wish to share this “pearl of great value” and are drawn to the taste of silence. It is an acquired taste, but once you savor it, you will very likely stay on.
It is here that Psalm 46:10 comes to fruition: “Be still and know that I am God.” Centering prayer is the prayer of silence, the prayer of consent. It is a prayer that will awaken in you an alert receptivity to the Divine dwelling within you. It is a delight.
