Tuesday, October 20, 2009

We've moved to a new blogsite

Dear readers,

With the help of a young friend, I've been able to set up a new site for Praying Daily at http://www.prayingdailyblog.com/, an installation using WordPress that will enable me to make attractive postings more easily. Please visit http://www.prayingdailyblog.com/ and then subscribe at its RSS FEED so that you'll receive email notices of the new postings and comments. Speaking of which, let me add this encouragement: if you find yourself responding to whatever it you may read at http://www.prayingdailyblog.com/, please post a comment. It's so easy to do! I so much enjoy your commentaries, and so do others!

I'll keep this blog up for a while; then when it's time has run its course, we'll pack it up. Nothing will be lost; everything here has beem migrated to http://www.prayingdailyblog.com/. If you wish, let me know what you think about the move with a few words to me at andrew.harnack@eku.edu.

Thank you, www.blogger.com for your years of helpful service. And may God bless you, www.wordpress.com for all that you will offer in the years to come.


Blessings! -- Andy

Thursday, October 01, 2009

Living in the "Not-So-Quite-Right" Church

Many of us are members of churches wherein at times we feel uncomfortable for one reason or another. Perhaps it's as small an item as the choice of hymns that don't seem to fit our needs. For some it may be that the Liturgy seems too traditional; others may believe their Sunday worship lacks any real memory of the church's historical identity. For others the infiltration of "entertainment worship" is disconcerting. Maybe you feel that the pastor doesn't get out and visit folks as he should (or you think he should). Worse yet, according to your lights, something is askew with the theology of your pastor, your denomination, your church. Whatever the reason, you squirm in your pew. You think about going elsewhere. If so, listen closely to what William J. Abraham in "Staying the Course: On Unity, Division and Renewal in The United Methodist Church" (Ancient and Postmodern Christianity: Paleo-Orthodoxy in the 21st Century, ed. Kenneth Tanner and Christopher Hall: InterVarity, 2002) suggests:


We need to beware [of] a naive utopianism in our thinking about the church. Even with complete success in the work of renewal, the church will be a fragile and mixed vessel. Jesus warned us that even the kingdom will have wheat and tares which can only be sorted out at the end of the age. Hence we should be prepared to live with all sorts of difficulties, setbacks, strategic retreats and challenges. If any are discouraged, I urge them to read the writings of the fourth-century leaders. Athanasius complained that when the Arians took over his church in Alexandria, folks were frolicking naked in the baptismal fonts. Yet Athanasius stayed the course, organized the faithful in exile, suffered banishment at least five times and eventually won the day for the gospel and the faith.
What Abraham says is not only thoughtful counsel for Methodists, but for any Christian who is unhappy in the pew. If you find yourself unhappy, discouraged, and down-spirited with what you see happening liturgically, theologically, or "whatever" in your church or your parish, bring your concerns before God in prayer, ever-so-quietly consider the merits of your concerns, talk gently and honestly with whomever you disagree, and work fervantly toward the renewal you desire. Above all, in everything let us all allow the love and centrality of Christ rule (and perhaps over-rule) our thoughts, manner of living, and actions.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

September 29: St. Michael and All Angels

Collect of the Day: Feast of St. Michael and All Angels

Everlasting God, you have ordained and constituted in a wonderful order the ministries of angels and mortals: Mercifully grant that, as your holy angels always serve and worship you in heaven, so by your appointment they may help and defend us here on earth; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Getting Ready for the Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Each Monday morning Daniel B. Clendenin publishes an essay givng us opportunities to anticipate the lectionary readings for the coming Sunday. Next Sunday, October 4, will be the Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost (also the Feast of St. Francis), and many of us will hear these appointed readings (Revised Common Lectionary, Year B):

Job 1:1, 2:1–10 or Genesis 2:18–24
Psalm 26 or Psalm 8
Hebrews 1:1–4, 2:5–12
Mark 10:2–16
Clendenin tells us that his essay this week takes a page from the pastor-poet George Herbert to consider humanity "Between Nature and Grace." In addition to writing fine essays, Clendenin also usually suggests a book or movie for reading or viewing; his recommendations this week are The Nine by Jeffrey Toobin and the seven-part HBO series John Adam. For poetry he posts his all-time favorite poem, "The Revival," by the Welsh poet-physician Henry Vaughan (1621-1695). Clendenin's weekly publication, a "webzine for the global church," is read by our brothers and sisters in 230 countries. See what you think by visiting Journey with Jesus. You may even wish to subscribe and receive his weekly email announcements as reminders to read his essays and recommendations.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Susan, on another list, recently posted this remarkable quotation taken from Robert Sardello's Silence: The Mystery of Wholeness:


Each of us has an ever-faithful companion--presence. Something that is always with us. Something that helps us to live with inner integrity and depth, to see through the outer coverings of others and of the world to their purpose and core being, and to get over placing ourselves at the center of everything. This companion-presence is Silence. It never goes away. We go away from it, become distracted and forgetful, and lose the manners needed to nurture companionship with it. We go away from Silence into the world of noise as if into a vast buzzing of insects, pushed to exist within the permanent irritation of dissonance. [...] Silence is palpable. [...]What if, to some degree, the "subjective" experience of God is also subjectively stated? ...What one names "God," for example, another may call "Silence." Certainly, in my devotions the lines between what I "know" of God/Silence often dissolve.
I share Susan's posting of this quotation with you because I have found that Sardello's observation, so creditably articulated, has often been mine. And perhaps yours? My friend Susan recommends that I get a copy of this book, and one reviewer at amazon.com confirms her recommendation: "Get this book now. Crawl naked over brocken glass to get a copy. Read this book before you die." It's Sunday morning and the Gospel, I hope, will remind that I do in fact need to die. I hope it will be a good death. If, however, I live through the week, I should be able to pick up my (used) copy in the mail box sometime this week.


Saturday, September 26, 2009

In Open Mind, Open Heart, Fr. Thomas Keating discusses five kinds of thoughts that may come to us during our practice of Centering Prayer:

    1. 1. wanderings of the imagination
      2. exploratory intellectual searchings
      3. attractive solutions to problems
      4. feelings of self-congratulation
      5. reawakened emotions arising from dormant traumatic experiences.

At one time or another in our contemplative practice many of us have experienced what Fr. Keating calls "the consequences of traumatic emotional experiences." While such experiences often occur in childhood, we may also encounter them in domestic arguments, the undoings of marriages, the death and suffering of loved ones, the horrors of the battlefield, and our encounters with poverty and injustice here and in the Third World. We live in a violent society; our movies, newspapers, and television shows constantly barrage us with scenes of pain, despair, and great unhappiness. Our personal lives have often carry the wounds of psychic damage. In Centering Prayer it would be unusual not to have violent images, feelings, thoughts, and memories intrude into our movement toward "unworded" contemplative prayer. When that happens, Fr. Keating gives us this exceptionally helpful advice:

When you feel restless, agitated, or pained by some emotional experience, you can't spend the time better than by waiting it out. The temptation is great when you are suffering from a distressing emotion to try to push it away. However, by allowing your attention to move gently toward the emotion and by sinking into it, as though you were getting into a nice jacuzzi, you are embracing God in the feeling. Don't think, just feel the emotion.

If you were blind and then got your sight back, even the ugliest things would be appreciated. Suppose you had no emotions and suddenly experienced one; even a disagreeable emotion would be thrilling. Actually, no emotion is really distressing; it is only the false self that interprets it as distressing. Emotional swings are gradually dissolved by the complete acceptance of them. To put this into practice, you must first recognize and identify the emotion: "Yes, I am angry, I am panicky, terrified, restless."

Every feeling has some good. Since God is the ground of everything, we know that even the feeling of guilt, in a certain sense, is God. If you can embrace the painful feeling, whatever it is, as if it were God, you are uniting yourself with God, because anything that has reality has God as its foundation. "Letting go" is not a simple term; it is quite subtle and has important nuances-depending on what you are intending to let go of. When a thought is not disturbing, letting go means paying no attention to it. When a thought is disturbing, it won't go away so easily, so you have to let it go in some other way. One way you can let it go is to sink into it and identify with it, out of love for God. This may not be possible at first, but try it and see what happens. The principal discipline of contemplative prayer is letting go.

To sum up what I have said on this fifth kind of thought, contemplative prayer is part of a reality that is bigger than itself. It is part of the whole process of integration, which requires opening to God at the level ofthe unconscious. This releases a dynamic that will be peaceful at times, and at other times heavily laden with thoughts and emotion. Both experiences are part of the same process of integration and healing. Each kind of experience, therefore, should be accepted with the same peace, gratitude, and confidence in God. Both are necessary to complete the process of transformation.

If you are suffering from a barrage of thoughts from the unconscious, you don't have to articulate the sacred word clearly in your imagination or keep repeating it in a frantic effort to stabilize your mind. You should think it as easily as you think any thought that comes to mind spontaneously.

Do not resist any thought, do not hang on to any thought, do not react emotionally to any thought. This is the proper response to all five kinds of thoughts that come down the stream of consciousness.

Note: There are two editions (and many printings) of Open Mind, Open Heart. The first was published in 1986; the second (The so-called 20th Anniversary Edition) in 2008. Although they are basically the same, in the 2008 edition, Fr. Keating has rearranged and revised the text in a catechetical (question and answer) fashion. The quotation cited in this posting may be found on page 98-99 in the 1986 edition; on pages 102-104 in the 2008 edition.

Images: Michelle Forsyth, Trauma, 2002. Cotton thread on cotton, 4 x 5 inches ; Sunday, July 9, 2006, 2006. Watercolor on Fabriano SP watercolor paper, 18 x 27 inches.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Reflective Silence during Evening Prayer

There is a set of paperback books on my shelf that has attracted my attention for years. It’s a four volume edition of the Philokalia. Last night, reading in and around the first volume containing St. Hesychios’ “On Watchfulness and Holiness,” I found myself underlining this passage:

Each hour of the day we should note and weigh our actions and in the evening we should do what we can to free ourselves from the burden of them by means of repentance—if that is, we wish, with Christ’s help, to overcome wickedness. (124)
St. Hesychios’ advice is good, and my prayerbook asks me to take advantage of it.

Each day at 5:00 p.m. in Evening Prayers, this prayerbook asks June and me to maintain a period of “silence for meditation.” We don’t observe an overly long silence (admittedly, sometimes it’s short), but most of the time we allow a minute or so to go by in which hear only the ticking of the clock or our own heartbeats. During that silence we reflect on what has happened during the day.

As the day passes, I know we are aware, more or less, of how things have gone. Nevertheless, the evening silence for meditation is an especially good time for summing up and reflecting on the day’s thoughts and actions. This “summing up” allows us to explore and examine the more subtle forms of egotism to which we are constantly inclined. In contemplative language, our review of these egoistic activities alerts us as to how we have been constructing what Thomas Merton, Basil Pennington, and Thomas Keating call our “false selves.”

Each of us knows how to construct a bogus, phony, cooked-up, and specious self; that is, we are experts in creating identifies intended to deceive others—and ourselves!--as to who we really are. I, for example, am given to suggest to you that I’m a fairly decent practicing Christian. Writing these sentences is right now a movement in that direction. For example, I like to read. But lots of times I know I am tempted to read so that I can quote other Christians, a temptation which professional academics find especially fetching. My false self is especially prone to the production of such presentations. I like to associate myself with famous Christians; it helps to suggest that I'm a pretty good Christian. In other words, surely you will recognize me by the company I keep. Just take a look.
Luther, following St. Augustine, describes this tendency to fabricate a false self as the product of homo curvatus in se, “the human "curving" or turning in upon the self.” That is, as a human beings, you and I like to turn and direct our gazes upon ourselves. We’re the objects of our own fascinations.

Homo curvatus in se. Here’s how it works. Although I don’t usually say so emphaticly, I’m personally and often quite secretively convinced that my thinking is generally a little better than your thinking; my politics slightly more on target than yours; my spiritual life, especially when seen in the right light, is at least a tad better than most others. And, of course, my use of silence more productive than yours.

Homo curvatus in se among us humans is insideous. Dangerous. If left unchecked, it marginalizes others, struts our own egos, and eventually discounts as little or nothing what—or better yet, who!-- is our True Self: the Lord Jesus Christ.

Heading in one direction by the dynamics of homo curvatus in se, we desperately need to go in another direction. Curving, arching, and habitually swerving toward one’s self, we need to aim ourselves—minds, hearts, strength, and soul--toward someone other than ourselves: each one's True Self, the Lord Jesus Christ.

God in his grace gives us our True Self in Christ. In prayer we turn from our false selves and meet the Center of our lives, the True Self. Whenever we review our day and discover where repentance is necessay, we are going in the right direction.

God’s gift of a good prayerbook works wonders in this redirectioning. Here’s how it works. Just before we get ready to pray the Psalms for the day, my prayerbook suggests that I observe “silence for meditation.” That where and when I sit quietly for a while to review the day. This extended review invariably reveals numerous occasions when I sinned against family members, neighbors, strangers, and God. I didn’t do what I should have done, and I did what I should not have done. And all in the interest of promoting my false self, my egotistical, self-protective self.

After the “silence for meditation” June and I offer this prayer, echoing images from Psalm 141:

Let in incense of our repentant prayer ascend before you, O Lord, and let your loving kindness descend upon us, that with purified minds we may sing your praises with the Church on earth and the whole heavenly host, and may glorify you forever and ever.
Aware that God’s loving kindness is descending upon us, we then sing the Psalms for the evening and end the day in God’s grace, centered in Christ, the True Self.


A post-script: If an exploration of the undercurrents of self-deception and the management of false selves interests you, perhaps like me you may wish to purchase and read Gregg A. Ten Elshof's I Told Me So, recently published by Wm. B. Eerdmans.