Whenever I find it possible, I listen to Krista Tippett ’s weekly hour-long NPR program, Speaking of Faith. Each week Tippett interviews someone whose life and witness is a testimony to faith, ecumenically defined. Yesterday Tippett interviewed geophysicist and spiritual thinker Xavier Le Pichon during a program entitled "Fragility and the Evolution of Our Humanity — A Geophysicist's View." Here’s the beginning of the interview:

Ms. Tippett: Xavier Le Pichon is a pioneer on the field of plate tectonics. He was a formative figure at one of those junctures where science not only radically revises its own assumptions but changes the way all of us see the world. When he began his life as a scientist in 1959, the prevailing view among geologists is what we know call "fixist." There was no knowledge of tectonic plates beneath the ocean with fault lines and constant motion that across time had configured and reconfigured the earth's crust and entire continents.

Mr. Le Pichon: The earth was considered a place where everything was static. You know, things were moving up and down but never laterally. Actually, the earth is an extraordinary living being with the motions of the oceans and continents continuously changing, evolving, and this was a tremendous shock.

Ms. Tippett: Still a practicing scientist, Xavier Le Pichon is also a lifelong Catholic. Since 2003, he has lived in an intentional community he and family helped found to provide retreat for families caring for a loved one with mental illness. Before that, for nearly three decades, he and his wife raised their family of six children at the original French L'Arche community, centered around people with mental disabilities. This aspect of his life was foreshadowed by his previous adventures at great universities and exploring the depths of the world's oceans in submersibles.

Near the conclusion of the interview, Le Pichon spoke briefly about his prayer life:

Mr. Le Pichon: And I then discovered later on the love of the suffering people, which I found could not be separated from the love of God. Actually, I could not go to God unless I went through these people. And all this is, in a sense, incompatible. Somebody once asked me, "How do you maintain unity in your life? Aren't you schizophrenic?" And my answer was, "It's through prayer. I spend a lot of time in prayer." I pray at least one or two hours a day. And it is through the prayer of God that has taken people into this extremely different field. I think it's the power of God that when you ask him he lets you unify things that apparently cannot be unified.
As I listened, it stroke me as quite remarkable that Le Pichon, a world-reknown geophysicist, should openly say that he prays “at least one or two hours a day,” that in his prayers God has taken him to love suffering people, and that in prayer God lets him “unify things that apparently cannot be unified.”

Le Pichon prays an hour or so every day. While I don’t know how he prays, I suspect that a good portion of his daily prayers is taken up with the Church’s traditional Morning and Evening Prayers. As a Roman Catholic he may well call his prayers The Liturgy of the Hours. If my intimations are correct, Le Pichon surely uses the Psalms as the foundation of his prayers. By building his prayer life on the Psalms, Le Pichon is called to remember the poor, the weak, and suffering again and again as he daily murmurs or perhaps quietly sings the Psalms in his home. Remembering the weak and suffering in this way has led him, as he says, into an “extremely different field,” that of living within an intentional community whose vocation is to serve the mentally ill.

As a Christian Le Pichon finds God’s creative love for an evolving world a reason for awe and wonder. Again, while I don’t know exactly how Le Pichon prays, I suspect that sitting in Silence before such a mystery plays a considerable role in an appreciation for his True Self and his understanding as to how we humans have evolved under God’s care.

A world-famous geophysicist who has introduced us to the study of plate techtonics intentionally lives with those who suffer from mental illness. Remarkable! Through prayer God has given Le Pichon the desire and ability to unify two supposedly different ways of thinking and living: scientific examination and prayerful listening. Le Pichon is a witness to what a radically expanded understanding of prayer can do.

If you’d like to read the transcript of the entire interview, visit http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/2009/fragility/transcript.shtml.

I'd rather be cleaned first.

Although C. S. Lewis is much loved by all Christians (and deservedly so!), it's not well known that Lewis came to believe that prayers for the dead and purgatory were, after all, commonsensical Christian realities in the Grand Scheme of Things; that is, they made a good bit of Christian common sense to those who trust and love God. Here's what Lewis says in Letters To Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer:

Of course I pray for the dead. The action is so spontaneous, so all but inevitable, that only the most compulsive theological case against it would deter me. And I hardly know how the rest of my prayers would survive if those for the dead were forbidden. At our age, the majority of those we love best are dead. What sort of intercourse with God could I have if what I love best were unmentionable to him?

I believe in Purgatory.

Mind you, the Reformers had good reasons for throwing doubt on the "Romish doctrine concerning Purgatory" as that Romish doctrine had then become . . . . The right view returns magnificently in Newman's DREAM. There, if I remember it rightly, the saved soul, at the very foot of the throne, begs to be taken away and cleansed. It cannot bear for a moment longer "with its darkness to affront that light." Religion has claimed Purgatory.

Our souls demand Purgatory, don't they? Would it not break the heart if God said to us, "It is true, my son, that your breath smells and your rags drip with mud and slime, but we are charitable here and no one will upbraid you with these things, nor draw away from you. Enter into the joy"? Should we not reply, "With submission, sir, and if there is no objection, I'd rather be cleaned first." It may hurt, you know." -"Even so, sir."

I assume that the process of purification will normally involve suffering. Partly from tradition; partly because most real good that has been done me in this life has involved it. But I don't think the suffering is the purpose of the purgation. I can well believe that people neither much worse nor much better than I will suffer less than I or more. . . . The treatment given will be the one required, whether it hurts little or much.

My favourite image on this matter comes from the dentist's chair. I hope that when the tooth of life is drawn and I am 'coming round',' a voice will say, 'Rinse your mouth out with this.' This will be Purgatory. The rinsing may take longer than I can now imagine. The taste of this may be more fiery and astringent than my present sensibility could endure. But . . . it will [not] be disgusting and unhallowed." (Chapter 20, paragraphs 7-10)

Lewis had no doubt that God in his infinite love will welcome us into his Presence with open arms. But he also had reason to believe that we Christians will quite naturally like to polish our shoes, mend the tears in our shirts, and brush our teeth before we step into the Throne Room. Of course, if may be something of Lewis' British appreciation for politeness that prompts him to want to "clean up a bit" and comb his hair that teases him into an appreciation for purgatory. Be that as it may, such a Christian impulse reflects no desire to improve ourselves morally or engage in some form of salvation by works. The conviction that purgatory may be an appropriate vestibule for the Throne Room simply reflects a Christian's redeemed desire to "get ready for worship," making sure he or she knows well how to step into the Royal Presence. As I understand Lewis, a willingness to be in purgatory is simply living out one's desire to learn how to express a fully an appreciative life of Christian courtesy before God; perhaps we might well take a final lesson or two on how to sit, stand, and sing (or learn to play an instrument) before the Royal Family, the Most Holy Trinity.

The reason I mention Lewis' conviction that purgatorial training of some sort belongs in the Grand Scheme of Things is to suggest that our prayer life--especially if it takes the form in Centering Prayer--may also be a kind of purgatory as Thomas Keating suggests:

Contemplative prayer is a kind of purgatory. Purgatory in Catholic theology is a state in which we complete the journey to divine union in the next life if we have not quite finished it here. Every bit of progress means an enormous benefit for us and for everyone else in the human race. To be on this journey is really the greatest contribution one can make tothe human family. This journey does not just involve what happens in prayer; rather, what happens in prayer enables us to live daily life as a continuation of the purification process. The ups and downs of daily life, including its very everydayness, are the arena in which the Christian journey takes place. God is in solidarity with our lives and deaths, just as they are. Perfection does not consist in feeling perfect or being perfect, but in doing what we are supposed to do without noticing it: loving people without taking any credit. Just doing it. (Intimacy with God (New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1996, 63-64.)

Prayerful Clarity

In Further Along the Road Less Traveled, M. Scott Peck makes this observation:

When Jesus gave his big sermon, the first words out of his mouth were: "Blessed
are the poor in spirit." There are a number of ways to translate "poor in spirit," but on an intellectual level, the best translation is "confused." Blessed are the confused. If you ask why Jesus might have said that, then I must point out to you that confusion leads to a search for clarification and with that search comes a great deal of learning. For an old idea to die and a new and better idea to take place, we have to go through periods of confusion. It is uncomfortable, sometimes painful to be in such periods. Nonetheless it is blessed because when we are in them, we are open to the new, we are looking, we are growing. And so it is that Jesus said, "Blessed are the confused." Virtually all of the evil in this world is committed by people who are absolutely certain they know what they're doing. It is not committed by people who think of themselves as confused. It is not committed by the poor in spirit.

Peck is on to something, and if you're like me I suspect there's a good bit of confusion in your life as there in mine. Here I'm thinking not only about the numerous befuddlements we experience daily (Where the dickens did I put those pliers?), but more importantly my confusions have to do with genuine perplexities about complex moral issues (What about assisted suicides for those who suffer painfully terminal diseases?), family issues (Is it all right to counsel my son to obtain a divorce?), and matters of national importance (Can I be a Democrat while opposing abortion?). Sometimes, depending on whom I've recently heard, I find myself changing "sides" on issues for which other make seemingly persuasive observations. In short, it's not unusual for me to find myself in the middle of things--confused.

In prayer, that is, in the distillation of interior silence and listening, God, as Jesus promises, blesses those of us who are confused . As we read Scriptures (especially the psalms), meditate on the Gospels, say our Morning and Evening Prayers, attend to frequent Holy Communions, practice some form of centering prayer, and allow the mind of Christ to shape our vision and actions, entering daily silence gives the Holy Spirit opportunities to clarify what's possible, what's right, and perhaps where ambiguity about somethings is all right. After all, even our opinions and decisions, as good as they may be, are nonetheless always in need of more thorough saving and forgiveness. Lest we think we've "got it," there's always the possibility that God will give us not only the right decision, but also a good way to express it with love and compassion. And confusion about that is often the tough part.

Image: Fra Angeica (1387-1455), The Sermon on the Mount

Chipping Away

In The Orthodox Way (St. Vladimir's Seminary P, Crestwood, NY: 1979), Bishop Kallistos Ware enters a sculptor's workshop to find a wonderful metaphor clarifying what happens when in contemplative prayer we strip away all the predicates of our descriptive selves (for example, "I'm a professor; my name is Andrew; I'm a Lutheran; I go to church; I'm the father of many children; I pray; I'm married; I like beer, and so on!") and release ourselves from notions of importance (or insignificance), success (or failure), current happiness (or sadness), intellectural abilities (or lack thereof), and so on. When we practice "letting go" of such illusive notions about who we really are and arrive at our innermost heart--where God is always intimately one with us--then we down-dwell with Him (or Her, as some come to know the Presence) and we realize and enjoy our True Self Jesus, who/Who we are:

The apophatic method, whether in our theological discourse or in our life of prayer, is seemingly negative in character, but in its final aim it issupremely positive. The laying-aside of thoughts and images leads not to vacuity but to a plenitude surpassing all that the human mind can conceiveor express. The way of negation resembles not so much the peeling of an onion as the carving of a statue. When we peel an onion, we remove one skin after another, until finally there is no more onion left: we end up with nothing at all. But the sculptor, when chipping away at a block of marble, negates to a positive effect. He does not reduce the block to a heap of random fragments but, through the apparently destructive action of breaking the stone in pieces, he ends up by unveiling an intelligible shape. (124)

Many ways to enter prayerful contemplative living

For those of us who live in the Bluegrass of central Kentucky, it' s almost always a pleasure to drive by a horse farm and enjoy the fencing.

Sometimes in the spring when the foals can be seen, I stop my car to say hello to mom and her newborn. Last year Moonstone Farm on Grimes Mill Road (a lovely part of the horse country south of the Lexington) let me walk around its paddocks, taking pictures of the horses, barns, and fencing.

A lover of such fencing, I often think of them as reminders of how I spend my time "fence-walking" or pilgrimaging through life. Just as the placement of well-grounded fence posts provides solid anchorage for the railings of horse-farm fencing, so praying the Daily Offices and setting aside time for centering prayer serve as "fenceposts" for contemplative living. Between the posts, between our morning and evenings, there's a good bit of "railing," that is, our time during the day. Assuming that one's "fenceposts" (prayer in the morning, prayer in the evening) are well in the ground, we are fairly ready to put the railings in place and walk along their timbered bars, the hours between sunrise and sunset.

What is that "railing" walk for those of us who have the fenceposts in place? How do we pass our "day hours" as we go from post of post? Here, by way of encouragement, Merton suggests how one might live prayerfully and contemplatively as the day passes, inbetween the fence posts:

Learn how to meditate on paper. Drawing and writing are forms of meditation. Learn how to contemplate works of art. Learn how to pray in the streets or in the country. Know how to meditate not only when you have a book in your hand but when you are waiting for a bus or riding in a train. Above, all, enter into the Church's liturgy and make the liturgical cycle part of your life-let its rhythm work its way into your body and soul. (New Seeds of Contemplation. New York: New Directions Press, 1961), 216.

What Merton is suggesting is that we allow our more or less concentrated contemplative times of prayer to extend themselves into every facet of living. With a contemplative heart, we say hello to the cashier at WalMart; with a contemplative mindset, we answer the phone to find out who's calling and why; with a contemplative attitude, we wash the dishes, do the laundry, grade student papers, mow the lawn, work on the budget, and work as an attorney, a salesclerk, a pastor, a custodian, or a retired professor. Just so, all of life becomes a contemplative journey.

Image: A picture of the paddock fencing I took at Moonstone Farm on Grimes Mill Road.

The Fruit of the Holy Spirit

This morning Harry came over to share some coffee and chat about things. After we said Morning Prayer together, we managed to talk about Quaker Elton Trueblood and then our conversation turned to St. Paul’s listing of the “fruit of the Holy Spirit” in Galations 5:

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such there is no law.

How, we asked ourselves, does one come to produce or enjoy such fruit? Harry suggested that the Spirit’s fruit isn’t “produced” by anything we do. I nodded in agreement: the fruit of the Spirit is simply the outward evidence of an inward indwelling or abiding in Christ.

After Harry left to distribute a carload of noontime “Meals on Wheels,” I had occasion to read again in my dog-eared copy of George Maloney’s Inward Stillness. And wouldn’t you know it! In Chapter 2, “A Silenced Heart,” Maloney makes this observation:

This [silent indwelling of God] is a gift from God’s Spirit. It flows as fruit from deep union with God outwardly to effect not only a deeper silence of the mind but a silence that affects also the very way we look at others, smile, the way we walk and talk. St. Paul described the fruit of such silence of the heart as “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness and self-control.” . . . When the heart is silent and the whole [person] is integrated, then she enters into the Kingdom of Heaven that is within. (31-32)

Those who practice contemplative living, prayerful listening, and frequent restful quietness within God’s presence, know from experience that Maloney speaks truthfully. When in Great Silence we quietly say goodbye to our self-nurturing egos and self-flattering illusions of importance, something wonderful happens. Quietly, often slowly but surely, the Holy Spirit begins the reshaping of our interior selves. Transformation takes place.

As we move through our days within this awareness of the Spirit’s creative use of silence—sometimes intense, sometimes not—we learn, as Maloney says, “to stand before God in honesty, humility, silent to our own need to tell God what we have been doing for Him” (33). In other words, any sense that we are doing something important simply goes by the bye. Instead, we become aware that God is doing something quite remarkable within us. Our actions—when done in love, joy, peace, and patience--are really the fruit of the Spirit.

Literally doing nothing, we center “upon God as the Source of all our energies,” as Maloney puts it. The point is this: we really don’t have to work real hard to bear fruit. Rather, it’s through “abiding” in God that we are set free to release the fruit of Spirit.

Isn’t that right, Harry?

World News This Week

While I'm not entirely sure, I think it was Reinhold Niebuhr who recommended that we pray with Scriptures in one hand and a newspaper in the other hand. That's good advice whether or not my memory of its ascription to Niebuhr is correct.

Several months ago Louise Heiss, a friend at Faith Lutheran Church, recommended that I subscribe to World News This Week, and I have found this ministry of the Episcopal Church of St. John the Baptist
Lodi, California, USA, both a source of valuable information and a profoundly helpful resource for my prayer life. Here's how it works. Each week a volunteer scours through newspapers and news reports to learn where and how people are suffering from hunger, war, injustice, natural disasters, torture, false imprionment, economic stress, and environmental damage. Then that person writes a prayer and shares it with all of us who subscribe to World News This Week.

When I receive my weekly notice, I print myself a copy and place it in my prayerbook. Then, when its time for various "other prayers" (confessions, intercessions, thanksgivings, praises) in Morning and Evening Prayer, I pray one or more of the petitions, adding them to my prayers for family and friends. I pray these peitions slowly so that I keep their intent memorably in tact during the day. Admittedly, sometimes I don't know the circumstances surrounding some petitions and therefore find it necesary to do some research, usually right after my World News This We prayer incentives arrive.

You may want to look into subscribing to this service. Here, for example, is what I received this morning, what is now printed and placed in my prayerbook:

We pray for a commitment to life so full that we will not accept the ways of death. We pray to be led more fully by the Spirit. We pray to accept ourselves, and others, as children of God. Not enslaved by fear, but joyfully adopted into a family dedicated to witnessing the reality of life as it ought to be, we pray to live by the realization that Cornel West worded this way: “Indifference to injustice is more insidious than the injustice itself.”

Deliver us from indifference to the prevalence of slavery in the world. Let us not just pray for, but also devote our attention and contribute our resources to, the work of initiatives that combat child prostitution, that pursue liberation for individuals, that advocate for cultural and political change, and that break our hearts. Some say there is more slavery in the world now than at any time in its past. Deliver us from apathy.

Deliver us from indifference to the abuses of imprisonment. As we recall a fifth casualty of suicide among the detainees in Guantánamo, Cuba, let us not forget to mourn the death of a real person, a man from Yemen, a man with a name, Muhammad Ahmad Abdallah Salih, held since February 2002, untried, allegedly a Taliban fighter. Let us not forget his fellow detainees, the Uighurs, and let us not accept the way journalists were denied information and access both to the suicide and to the protests of the Uighurs.

Deliver us from indifference to the efforts to suppress discussion of the bloody crackdown in Tiananmen Square, Beijing, China 20 years ago this week. All the old-fashioned forms of censorship are being supplemented with new efforts to make social networking unavailable. Let us celebrate the creativity, not to mention the courage, of those who would keep the images available. We pray especially for civic organizations in Hong Kong holding a vigil and otherwise noting the anniversary.

Deliver us from indifference to the circumstances of Nobel Peace Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi and her country, Burma. Arouse effective response to the conscription of child soldiers, sexual violence, forced displacement and other violations of international law.

Correct our unwillingness to acknowledge the connection between prosperity and peace. Redouble our efforts to mitigate the damage that economic problems cause, not just for the sake of those who are most badly affected by also for all of us, who eventually suffer the consequences of a poorer world that becomes a more violent world.

Dismantle our preoccupation with simplicity. Grant us grace to understand and to work with the realities of no prevailing power group in Somalia, of no certain path for the swine flu virus, and of ills where we can find no one source of blame.

Finally, we pray you deliver us from indifference to evidence that some lessons are being learned. Brazil is set to show the lowest rate of Amazon deforestation in 20 years. Companies in the U.S. are responding to consumers, federal regulators, employees and environmental watchdogs with better monitoring of carbon emissions and with projects to reduce emissions. We can learn to expect better results when we make better efforts. Too often we come to you in childish ways, but always you respond to us with a wise love. We know that it is a human obligation to care for the world, and, we thank you for your abiding companionship in the effort.

Amen.

Image: Pray for the World