going into and through our wounds: part two...

NOTE: In part one of this reflection re: discovering and embracing various parts of what some speak of as the wisdom tradition within Christian contemplation. I shared a part of my early questioning as well as three clues and resources that spoke to both head and heart: 1) The Benedictine tradition of balance; 2) Centering Prayer; and 3) The spirituality of Fr. Ed Hays in St. George and the Dragon. In part two, let me add just one other resource that has offered intellectual clarity and practical insights concerning the descent into my brokenness: 1) the serenity prayer/spirituality of imperfection. In what will likely become parts three and four I will consider the importance of :anam caras (spiritual guides or friends), Taize, and Jean Vanier and L'Arche. I will also add a word for appreciation to the once unpublished but now collected spiritual direction/formation notes of Henri Nouwen, too. And, in whatever becomes the conclusion (probably late next week) I will note the ways baking, gardening, creating music, poetry,t ears and Eucharist have been my spiritual guides, too.

Wendell Berry put it like this a poem he calls: How to Be a Poet (to remind me).

Make a place to sit down.

Sit down. Be quiet.

You must depend upon

affection, reading, knowledge,

skill — more of each

than you have — inspiration,

work, growing older, patience,

for patience joins time 

to eternity. Any readers 

who like your poems, 

doubt their judgment. 

Breathe with unconditional breath

the unconditioned air.

Shun electric wire.

Communicate slowly. Live

a three-dimensioned life;

stay away from screens.

Stay away from anything

that obscures the place it is in.

There are no unsacred places;

there are only sacred places

and desecrated places. 

Accept what comes from silence.

Make the best you can of it.

Of the little words that come

out of the silence, like prayers

prayed back to the one who prays,

make a poem that does not disturb

the silence from which it came.

I cherish this poem because it says what I need to remember in plain words. There are blessings in being an intellectual, mind you, but not so much when it comes to the spiritual realm. Therein the words of Jesus, "Unless ye become as a little child..." take on added significance. For decades, there was one old dude in recovery who used to say to me: "You're too damn smart for your own good." At nearly every monthly lunch he said this to me adding: "By now you should know that you can't think your way into anything of value." By then, indeed, I did know that he was right. But still he persisted, so most I just kept eating my grilled cheese sandwiches in silence. In time it would dawn on him that I wasn't biting, so he would look at me with curmudgeonly affection, shake his head and proclaim one more time, "You're still full of shit, smart guy. Cuz deep down inside I know you still believe that you can think you way into recovery. Or grace. Or anything else, man, and that's just total bullshit."

My commitment to a spirituality of imperfection advocated by AA and 12 Step groups is all in that story: intellectuals truly do believe that we can think our way into and out of everything - and it is total bullshit. As those who work the steps know, the only way out of hell is through it. The only way to endure the journey of descent is through grace freely given accompanied by some wise personal guidance. Most of us, you see, need to be humbled before we're ready to taste and see God's grace: without being sick and tired of being sick and tired we will keep on trying to think our way out of bondage. And why not, being smart has had its rewards, right? Our teachers loved it. Our parents celebrated it. And most of our employers depend upon it. It is only natural to resist what has worked for so long. Besides, letting go is hard and we come from a get rich quick culture and economy. Richard Rohr hit a home run with his description of 12 Step wisdom in his Learning to Breathing Under Water. 

All mature spirituality, in one sense or another, is about letting go and unlearning... We suffer to get well. We surrender to win. We die to live. We give it away to keep it.You cannot heal what you do not first acknowledge... How you do life is your real and final truth, not what ideas you believe.

The fourth resource in my exploration into the way of descent comes from the Serenity Prayer and what Ernest Kurtz calls a "spirituality of imperfection." The Serenity Prayer, authored by Reinhold Niebuhr, distills the essence of the spiritual journey into 25 words: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. Three petitions: peace, courage and acceptance are all dependent upon God's grace and our emptiness. In what I consider to be a brilliant commentary on 12 Step wisdom, A Spirituality of Imperfection by Ernest Kurtz brings together hundreds of stories from the Sufi, Hassidic and Mothers and Fathers of the Desert traditions describing how encounters with failure can open us to humility. It is not an accident, Kurtz is quick to tell us, that the words humility, humiliation and humor all come from the same root:  humus. Each is constructed upon "the ancient Indo-European, ghum, that has been rendered as humus in English."  Our dictionaries add: humus is "a brown or black substance resulting from the partial decay of plant and animal matter" filtered through worm excrement." (p. 191) Kurtz continues:

Humility involves learning how to live with (and even rejoice) in a reality that is not all-or-nothing, but rather one of mixed-up-ed-ness... of our being both saint and sinner, both beast and angel... and acceptance comes for owning our imperfection rather than trying to find some specialness. Humility is the foundation and keystone of any spirituality of imperfection - and this spirituality is first and foremost free-ing. (p. 192)

Learning to laugh at myself became a spiritual practice for me. Still is. Giving up sarcasm was critical too. Self-deprecating humor is much healthier and a lot funnier because it takes our bullshit and turns it into something wise. Coming to grips with my young adult daughters' various fears drove me to the Serenity Prayer in those times when I couldn't fix or help anything. Same again with my now deceased parents untreated alcoholism - and cancers. I don't think there is a better personal prayer for sitting with a friend or parishioner during their last hours of life than the Serenity Prayer. It became a go to essential - and still hangs on my wall at my home study. 

It surprises me how long this reflection is turning out to be, but oh well. I head out for a few days with my friends in community at L'Arche Ottawa tomorrow, so I don't think I will have time for much writing. Like so much of this journey, you have to play it as it lays. So, I'll take my time and keep sharing until this one is done. Be gentle with yourselves.