centering prayer, cynthia bourgeault and jean vanier...

"Let yourself become useless," wrote the late Henri Nouwen about the heart of prayer. "Prayer is not a way of being busy with God instead of with people. In fact, it unmasks the illusion of busyness, usefulness, and indispensability. It is a way of being empty and useless in the presence of God and so of proclaiming our basic belief that all is grace and nothing is simply the result of hard work." (Nouwen Society Daily Meditation, 5/13/19) I read much the same thing last night in Cynthia Bourgeault's book, Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening. In addition to articulating how to practice centering prayer, she offers readers both a concise history of Christian contemplative spirituality as well as a theology of this practice. At the theological core of Centering Prayer are two key Biblical texts from the New Testament. 

The first is found in St. Matthew's gospel, chapter 16, verse 25: "Whoever would save his life will lose it and whoever loses his life will find it." Bourgeault makes the point that living into the way of Jesus is a commitment to dying to ourselves - and by ourselves she means our false, broken and/or wounded realities. 

In classic Christian moral theology, dying to self is generally interpreted as dying to self-will. In other words, we all have our wants, needs, preferences, opinions, and agendas, some of which may be authentic expressions of our being, but many of which are motivated (or at least aggravated)by fear and self-importance. Dying to self means being willing to let go of what I want (or think I want) in order to create space for God to direct, lead, and guide me into a truer way of being.

Traditionally, this is expressed in the prayer, "Thy will - not my will - be done." It certainly has a time-tested place in the life of faith. But those nurturing prayers from the center of our being suggest another perspective: that of joining Jesus in his death. "The practice of meditation is indeed an authentic experience of dying to self - not at the level of the will, however, but at the level of something even more fundamental: our core identity and egoic processing methods that keep it in place."

When we enter meditation, it is like a "mini-death," at least from the perspective of the ego (which is why it can initially feels so scary...) We simply entrust ourselves to a deeper aliveness, gently pulling the plug on that tendency of the mind to want to check in with itself all the time ... In this sense, meditation is a mini-rehearsal for the hour of our own death, in which the same thing will happen. There comes a moment when the ego is no longer able to hold us together, and our identity is cast to the mercy of Being itself... (In this) we not only participate in the death of Christ, we also participate in his resurrection. At the end of those twenty minutes of sitting, when the bell is rung, we are still here! Something has held us and carried us. And this same something, we gradually come to trust, will hold and carry us at the hour of our death. To know this - really know this - is the beginning of a resurrection life.
(Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening, pp.80-81)

As many of you know, Jean Vanier passed from this life into life eternal on Tuesday of last week. I have been praying for and with him almost daily since that time - and for my dear friends at L'Arche Ottawa, too. Jean clearly died a good death. He trusted in his heart, soul and body that God's love would continue after life in this realm was over. He went gently - saturated in grace - into a life beyond life. As the United Church of Canada puts it an their faith affirmation: In life, in death, in life beyond death we are not alone. Jean Vanier knew that on this side of eternity and trusted it as he crossed over. For me, his witness continues beyond the grave. (For those interested in joining Jean's funeral on Thursday, please go to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload= 9&v= hUM3P61neXU&feature=youtu.be at 8:00 am EST.) 

The second New Testament passage that gives shape and form to Centering Prayer comes from St. Paul in Philippians 2: 5-11. It is a hymn that affirms and confirms the downward path of Christ's spirituality.

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross.
Therefore God also highly exalted him
and gave him the name
that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bend,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue should confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.

Christian theologians speak of this as kenosis - self-emptying - and it is often attributed to Christ's divine nature. Bourgault writes, "Eros (human love) is our way to God; agape (divine love) is God's way to us. Human love (traditionally) goes up, divine love comes down... But what if these two types of love are two pathways to the same love: two operational modes withing the cosmos with equally legitimate but very different purposes?"

Western Christian spirituality has favored hierarchy: ladders, stairways, and the journey of ascent. Many believe the Beatitudes as articulated by Jesus in St. Matthew 5 are discrete steps towards spiritual maturity: after achieving one level, we move on to the next, acquiring more wisdom and serenity in stages. But as Jean Vanier documented with his life - and Cynthia Bourgeault (and Richard Rohr and Thomas Keating) articulate in their articulation of Centering Prayer - while "the vast majority of meditation methods are built on the model of 'storing' or 'attaining' - where one concentrates so as to attain clear mind..."

Centering prayer aims to attain nothing: not clear mind, steady-state consciousness, or unitive seeing. It is a prayer that simply exercises "self-emptying," (trusting) a love made full in the act of giving itself away.

Centering Prayer strikes me as the way of Jesus, who emptied himself in love by being present, alive and attentive in real life to the world. Jesus took time away from the busyness of life to rest in God's grace. He then returned, not to acquire power or status, but to be present in love with those who are often forgotten or marginalized. The path of Jesus is downward. The way of Jesus is small. The soul of Jesus is letting go in generosity and trust.

More than in any other place, L'Arche Ottawa has shown me what the love of Jesus looks like in real life. As I have visited and shared music, supper and chores with the community, I have encountered a love that is generous, small, and honest. By listening to the stories of others - and by being present in community from time to time - I have started to trust that Jean's wisdom is my path into holiness:  "Sharing our weakness and difficulties is more nourishing to others than sharing our qualities and successes.” As he was fond of saying, we must not talk about love, we must do it! More than ever before, I believe that the combination of trusting community - and entering trust of God through Centering Prayer - is essential for my loving presence to ripen in this strange, often cruel but profoundly beautiful moment in time. I am not very good at being in either community or prayer, but trust by trusting grace it will slowly take root within. And for this, I am grateful.