Two Spiritual Approaches, Ascent and Inward or Contemplative

Two Spiritual Approaches

“Darkness is not dark for you, and night shines as the day. Darkness and light are but one.”—Psalm 139:12.

Richard Rohr, in his daily emails, describes the two traditional approaches to God as “dark” and “light.” The more cognitive, formal, theological approach is called the kataphatic way. In it, we reach God by studying the divine, practicing an ascent to the sacred, and reaching for the light. This has been the most widely followed approach to God since the Protestant Reformation and the Age of Enlightenment. We could describe it as the way of knowledge or knowing God. 

The other spiritual tradition or way of seeking God is the apophatic way, in which we move beyond words and rational knowing into silence. This is the contemplative approach to the mystery, the “not-knowing.” It is an emptying or descent into darkness, into the unknown sacred within.

Rohr emphasizes the importance of both ways of seeking God for a balanced spiritual life. Those whose personality type involves more thinking and sensing, and who make decisions based on concrete, rational facts, will be drawn to the kataphatic, or ascent, approach. Those whose personality leans more toward feeling and intuitive functions, who make decisions based on relationships and consider many connections and patterns, may be more drawn to the apophatic, or inward, emptying, or descending approach.

Many involved in spiritual direction suggest that we try to use the approach opposite our tendencies during Advent and Lent. For example, if we are a thinking person, we should try contemplative prayer. If we are a feeling and intuitive person, we should consider putting our toe in the water by studying our tradition, sacred Scripture, or the writings of significant theologians. 

Just a suggestion to think or wonder about.

1Richard Rohr, Center for Action and Contemplation. Daily Meditation, “Darkness and Light,” adapted from Richard Rohr’s Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality (Franciscan Media, 2008), pp. 115-116.

Richard Rohr, Breathing Under Water, Spirituality and the Twelve Steps

Richard Rohr, Breathing Under Water

“The work of spirituality is the ongoing liberation of head, heart, and body toward full, luminous seeing and living, not a mere mental ‘decision for Jesus’ or a one-time insurance policy of sacraments received. Most head churches do not touch the heart; most heart churches do not bother with the head; and almost all churches ignore the body.”

Richard Rohr’s book, Breathing Under Water: Spirituality and the Twelve Steps, is a masterpiece on how to turn our lives over to God. It is for everyone, even those who may not have an addiction. But Rohr believes that, in truth, everyone has some form of addiction that helps them live life on life’s terms.

Rohr describes our need to open three inner spaces: our heads, minds, and bodies. To open our minds, he suggests a contemplative or meditative practice. This is not about saying or reciting prayers. These are emptying prayers. Two of the most common are centering prayers and mindfulness prayers. 

As we open our minds and let the committee in our heads rest, Rohr directs us to fill our hearts in the same way, at the same time. Filling our hearts means healing the harms we have carried from the past, passed down from generation to generation. He suggests learning about the Enneagram, which helps us understand the strategies we have used to survive with our injured feeling function. Each Enneagram type is a half-truth about ourselves. 

Rohr also believes the heart space can be opened through “right-brain” activities, such as music, art, dance, nature, poetry, games, and the art of relationship, which Christians might call seeking God, the Spirit, or Christ in one another. 

Our body grounds us to the earth. The body keeps us in the present moment. God meets us in the present moment. For many, the body is more repressed than the head and the heart, and it is taking its revenge through compulsive eating, repressed sexuality, anorexia, and disregard for our planet, water, animals, and healthy foods.

The head, heart, and body reconnect as one when we set our egos aside and begin to see the ever-Presence, the immediate embrace of God, healing our limited and toxic image of God.

Joanna joannaseibert.com

Mortality

Mortality

Medical School Class

“On the death of a friend, we should consider that the fates through confidence have devolved on us the task of a double living, that we have henceforth to fulfill the promise of our friend’s life also, in our own, to the world.”—Henry David Thoreau.

In 2018, we attended our fiftieth medical school reunion. One of the most surprising developments I never envisioned was the substantial number of classmates who had died. We were invincible, ready to take on whatever came our way. We had overcome almost every possible hardship, including abuse, prejudice, poverty, humiliation, ridicule, and whatever else was presented to us. We knew how to work without sleep, be shamed for what we did not know in front of peers, and read and study until it seemed our eyes were coming out of our heads. 

But our death was never part of our own plan. It was something that happened to those we were unable to save.

We constantly walked with death and still remember every face of those we could not save because of our own ignorance or because the medical science that could have saved them was not yet developed. We never imagined that those with whom we worked so closely, sharing a common experience, would no longer be alive. How did they die? Was it a lengthy illness? We search for their obituaries: Ken, Jim, Charles. 

Of course, this has been a wake-up call about our mortality. There is always the question of why we are still alive while they are not. Did we take better care of ourselves, or do we have better genes? Today, I simply know that most answers are out of our reach. 

More and more, we have to live into mystery. We also want to thank those with whom we weathered a wilderness adventure. Somehow, each of them contributed to our becoming the person God created us to be. We send prayers of thanksgiving to them for how their lives touched ours. We also ask for their prayers until we reconnect with them and learn even more about each other.

We look forward to continuing our journey together with the God of our understanding, surrendering, trying to live one day at a time, being grateful for each day, and enjoying the journey without needing to know all the answers this time.

Last year, my husband planned another reunion, and we are planning another one for next year. There is something unique about the bond we shared with friends during our first walks, learning about life and death, that words cannot express. Only the heart knows.

Thanksgiving, All Saints, All Souls, and Advent are special times to remember and give thanks for old friends who shared our journey, both those who are still alive and those who have died.

Joanna.  joannaseibert.com