Guenther on a rule of life for the rest of us

“Inevitably, even if we are persistent and faithful, there will come a time when God seems not to be listening or speaking to us. We have entered a desert time. Maybe our icons-our windows to God- have turned into idols. That is, the form of our prayer has become more important than the prayer itself. We can find ourselves attributing almost magical power to our methods of centering prayer, Ignatian meditation, or reading the daily offices of Morning and Evening Prayer. We can become so preoccupies with following our rule of life that we can forget where we are going.”

 Margaret Guenther, At Home in the World, A Rule of Life for the Rest of Us

Will-known author and Episcopal priest Margaret Guenther reminds us that we do not come into the world equipped with a spiritual road map or owner’s manual, so we need to write our own. We cannot download from some celestial source a spiritual MapQuest with precise directions for turning each corner.

Guenther gives us an easily readable book about how to follow a rule of life and still live in the world. Our rule will be different at varying stages of our lives. She offers ways to live in the awareness of the preciousness of each day, living every day as if it were our last, constantly reminding ourselves that time is a gift from God. Each chapter discusses a distinctive aspect of our lives, our families, our solitude, or creativity, our money, our fear of abundance, our friends and enemies, our prayer, and our use of power.  The chapters are followed by questions for reflection, making the book an excellent choice for a small group study.

I first read At Home ten years ago but still practice some of what Guenther taught me.  Whenever a person comes to mind, I call, visit, send a text, or prayer.  I also learned this from my spiritual director in deacon training, Dan McKee.   She discusses how Sabbath is not merely ceasing to work but to be celebrating something that makes us new, re-creates us.  She reminds us that an ongoing association with children, “who live closer to the ground” than we do can be a powerful source for re-creation, a new creation. Guenther consoles me when forgiveness comes too slowly. She describes it as a great block of ice which melts slowly and cannot be hurried. “There is no spiritual equivalent of a microwave.”

Joanna   joannaseibert.com

Charleston and learning to read the spiritual signs

 Learning to read the Spiritual Signs Charleston

“You have seen the signs around you for some time now. You are beginning to understand which way the wind is blowing. The hard thing is deciding exactly what to do. And when. It is in moments like this that discernment becomes one of the most important skills we have. To focus our complete attention on the issues and consider the evidence in a balanced way: that is what having good judgment is all about. The spiritual life is not an exercise of imagination, but of interpretation. We see the signs. It is understanding them as a coherent message that takes skill. The handwriting on the wall tells us nothing unless we have learned to read.” Bishop Charleston

“Learning to read the signs on the wall.” Bishop Charleston is indeed giving us a good metaphor for living and discerning the spiritual life. As spiritual friends, we help each other see where God is working in our lives. We have friends helping us connect the dots, suggesting that a storm may be coming when we miss the signs. We are called to remember how God led us in our past.  We have seen the signs in the past. When one of us cannot presently see the signs of God alive in our lives, those of us who can see, help out each other.  This is why God calls us to community. We cannot do this alone. All of our spiritual exercises, prayer, contemplation, study, centering prayer, the labyrinth, a rosary, intentional walking, are all tools to help us interpret the handwriting on the wall, the hand of God caring for us, leading us, never abandoning us. Some spiritual disciplines we do by ourselves, others such as corporate worship we do together. Whether we experience these disciplines alone or together we are called to share what we learn with each other. Discernment for where we should go or the action to take next is most effectively done in community. I do have friends who sit alone and meditate and say they hear where God is working in their lives and what they should do. All the better for them. I could never do this except on very rare occasions.  My experience is that others can see signs I have missed while the course of action I should take is so apparent to them. All of this of course does involve a great deal of trust.

Joanna            joannaseibert.com

Charleston on Silence and "The Light of the World"

 Charleston on Silence and “The Light of the World”

“Enter the quiet room within. Go up the winding staircase of your thoughts, up to the cupola that looks out to the endless sea. Sit in the stillness there, until you can hear your heart. Let your mind grow as calm as the ribbons of sunlight across the floor, your breathing as steady as the rolling waves on the ocean before you. Listen to the empty space around you. Silence is inside you for a reason. It is the counterpoint you need to the noise of the world. Enter the quiet room within and discover the peace that knows your name.” Steven Charleston

Bishop Charleston passionately describes that place of silence inside of us, a place he must know so well. So many describe the voice of God, “the still small voice of God” as silence.  It is a place of peace, the place that “knows your name”, the place where God calls us by name. It is a place where the committee in our head takes a respite. It is a place of surrender. So how do we get there? All of our spiritual exercises are taking us by the hand and leading us to the door to that room. My experience is that sometimes the door seems to open and sometimes it does not. I do not understand it all, but I do know that God is always there on the other side and that our journey is to keep knocking and seeking and discovering how that door might open. What is our part in opening the door and what is God’s part? My experience is the paradox that God is indeed there on the other side also knocking, knocking as in Holman Hunt’s famous painting, “The Light of the World”.

Charleston may be giving us hints of how he enters that room of silence. He connects to the sea, to nature, to the created world outside of him in previous writings.  He connects to his body, his heart beat, his breath. This is my most frequent experience of silence, sitting outside where the only sound is water, birds, wind, trees, clouds, stars, moon and becoming aware of my body below the head. What a revelation! When our outside environment is silent, we are more likely to connect to that inner room of silence where God promises always to be present.

There are also inside “thin” places where people have gone for years for prayer, where silence is most often present. When you enter the space, you know you are not alone. Hundreds, thousands of prayers silently envelope you from those before you. The prayers are like a Gregorian chant that no longer has words with its tune at a pitch you cannot hear, but somehow it enters your body and slows your breathing and your heart rate.

This stained-glass window depicting “The Light of the World” is in Pierce Chapel, Trinity Cathedral Little Rock, where I and so many others have often met Christ standing and silently lighting up the window.

Joanna   joannasebeibert.com