We’re not monks. At least most of us reading this blog aren’t so far as I know. (Do let me know if you are a monk and somehow come across these words.) We ordinary Christians don’t usually live in an actual desert (though some parts of Texas and California are very close to being exactly that!). So how can we, Jesus-following disciples and citizens of the world in the 21st century, practice the prayer of the heart?
How do you do that? Let me know, and I’ll pass your practices along to others.
As Henri Nouwen writes towards the end of The Way of The Heart (pages 63-64):
• The prayer of the heart is nurtured by short, simple prayers
• The prayer of the heart is unceasing
• The prayer of the heart is all-inclusive
As Nouwen observes, the Desert Fathers discourage the use of too many words. Abba Macarius said: “There is no need at all to make long discourses; it is enough to stretch out one’s hand and say, ‘Lord as you will, and as you know, have mercy.’ And if the conflict grows fiercer say: ‘Lord, help.’ He knows very well what we need and he shows us his mercy.’
“John Climacus is even more explicit: ‘When you pray do not try to express yourself in fancy words, for often it is the simple, repetitious phrases of a little child that our Father in heaven finds most irresistible . . . One phrase on the lips of the tax collector was enough to win God’s mercy . . . Wordiness in prayer often subjects the mind to fantasy and dissipation; single words of their very nature tend to concentrate the mind.’ The quiet repetition of a single word can help us descend with the mind into the heart . . . a word or sentence repeated frequently can help us to concentrate, to move to the center, to create an inner stillness and thus to listen to the voice of God.
“When, for instance, we have spent twenty minutes in the early morning sitting in the presence of God with the words ‘The Lord is my Shepherd’ they may slowly build a little nest for themselves in our heart and stay there for the rest of our busy day. Even while we are talking, studying, gardening, or building, the prayer can continue in our heart and keep us aware of God’s ever-present guidance.
“The discipline is not directed toward coming to a deeper insight into what it means that God is our Shepherd, but toward coming to the inner experience of God’s shepherding action in whatever we think, say, or do” (The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, page 65).
Try it. Carve out 5 to 10 minutes one morning this week. Then pray the prayer of the heart.
As you go through your busy day, use the pauses and breaks, the interruptions, the brief moments of downtime, the transitions between activities, the commute, or a few minutes at the close of your day to repeat the prayer of your heart.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
The Prayer of the Heart
“The crisis of our prayer life is that our mind may be filled with ideas of God while our heart remains far from him. Real prayer comes from the heart,” writes Henri Nouwen, adding: “It is about this prayer of the heart that the Desert Fathers teach us” (The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, page 58).
Reading The Way of The Heart will help us learn how to pray with and from our hearts.
The classic definition of the prayer of the heart comes from the Russian mystic, Theophan the Recluse: “To pray is to descend with the mind into the heart, and there to stand before the face of the Lord, ever-present, all-seeing, within you” as quoted by Nouwen citing editor Timothy Ware’s The Art of Prayer: An Orthodox Anthology (London: Faber & Faber, 1966).
“The word heart in the Jewish-Christian tradition refers to the source of all physical, emotional, intellectual, volitional and moral energies . . . it is this heart that is the place of prayer. The prayer of the heart is a prayer that directs itself to God from the center of the person and thus affects the whole of our humanness.
“The prayer of the heart is a prayer that does not allow us to limit our relationship with God to interesting words or pious emotions. By its very nature such prayer transforms our whole being into Christ precisely because it opens the eyes of our soul to the truth of ourselves as well as to the truth of God. In our heart we come to see ourselves as sinners embraced by the mercy of God. It is this vision that makes us cry out, ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’
“The prayer of the heart challenges us to hide absolutely nothing from God and to surrender ourselves unconditionally to his mercy” (The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, page 59-61).
When you pray, pray with your heart.
Reading The Way of The Heart will help us learn how to pray with and from our hearts.
The classic definition of the prayer of the heart comes from the Russian mystic, Theophan the Recluse: “To pray is to descend with the mind into the heart, and there to stand before the face of the Lord, ever-present, all-seeing, within you” as quoted by Nouwen citing editor Timothy Ware’s The Art of Prayer: An Orthodox Anthology (London: Faber & Faber, 1966).
“The word heart in the Jewish-Christian tradition refers to the source of all physical, emotional, intellectual, volitional and moral energies . . . it is this heart that is the place of prayer. The prayer of the heart is a prayer that directs itself to God from the center of the person and thus affects the whole of our humanness.
“The prayer of the heart is a prayer that does not allow us to limit our relationship with God to interesting words or pious emotions. By its very nature such prayer transforms our whole being into Christ precisely because it opens the eyes of our soul to the truth of ourselves as well as to the truth of God. In our heart we come to see ourselves as sinners embraced by the mercy of God. It is this vision that makes us cry out, ‘Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’
“The prayer of the heart challenges us to hide absolutely nothing from God and to surrender ourselves unconditionally to his mercy” (The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, page 59-61).
When you pray, pray with your heart.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
The Athlete . . . and Prayer . . .
Do you ever think about the role of prayer in the life of an athlete? While watching the 29th Olympiad in Beijing, China, I’ve noticed how some of the athletes appear to take a moment for prayer at the start of an event. Several wear crosses. Others make the sign of the cross. A few take a minute or two for prayer after winning a race. But so far (based on my limited viewing) prayer has not been featured in a report by NBC broadcasters. If you happen to catch such a story, please let me know with a comment or an email.
The Olympic athletes’ years of training, the ups and downs of competition, the struggles with injuries, and their joyful victory celebrations can all inspire a desire to pray, or even to learn how to pray and build a relationship with a loving Heavenly Father who cares about all the events and outcomes we experience as we run our race.
Perhaps the best known verse comparing an athlete’s life with the life of a Christian is “Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever” (1 Corinthians 9:25; see also verses 24-27).
While moving from the study of solitude and silence to prayer, Nouwen explains that solitude and silence are for prayer. “The Desert Fathers did not think of solitude as being alone, but as being alone with God. They did not think of silence as not speaking, but as listening to God. Solitude and silence are the context within which prayer is practiced”
(The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, page 53).
One of the Desert Fathers, Macarius the Great, (an Egyptian who lived in the fourth century) says: “The chief task of the athlete [that is the monk] is to enter into his heart,” as quoted by Henri Nouwen citing The Sayings of the Desert Fathers (The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, page 60).
Desert Fathers, monks and nuns, everyday Christians living in the 21st century, we are all athletes. Let’s pray.
The Olympic athletes’ years of training, the ups and downs of competition, the struggles with injuries, and their joyful victory celebrations can all inspire a desire to pray, or even to learn how to pray and build a relationship with a loving Heavenly Father who cares about all the events and outcomes we experience as we run our race.
Perhaps the best known verse comparing an athlete’s life with the life of a Christian is “Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever” (1 Corinthians 9:25; see also verses 24-27).
While moving from the study of solitude and silence to prayer, Nouwen explains that solitude and silence are for prayer. “The Desert Fathers did not think of solitude as being alone, but as being alone with God. They did not think of silence as not speaking, but as listening to God. Solitude and silence are the context within which prayer is practiced”
(The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, page 53).
One of the Desert Fathers, Macarius the Great, (an Egyptian who lived in the fourth century) says: “The chief task of the athlete [that is the monk] is to enter into his heart,” as quoted by Henri Nouwen citing The Sayings of the Desert Fathers (The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, page 60).
Desert Fathers, monks and nuns, everyday Christians living in the 21st century, we are all athletes. Let’s pray.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Silence in Preaching, Counseling, and Organizing
Yesterday a friend of mine spoke about the “still, small voice of God” and the need to be quiet in order to hear God’s voice. It’s not often that we hear a message in church about being silent, or the value of times of quiet reflection. But it’s possible to take a concern for the practice of silence and its use in preaching and ministry even further.
As Henri Nouwen observes, “If it is true that the word of Scripture should lead us into the silence of God, then we must be careful to use that word not simply as an interesting or motivating word, but as a word that creates the boundaries within which we can listen to the loving, caring, gentle presence of God” (The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, page 44).
“The simple words ‘The Lord is my shepherd’ can be spoken quietly and persistently in such a way that they become like a hedge around a garden in which God’s shepherding can be sensed . . .These words . . . can slowly descend from the mind into the heart. There they may offer the context in which an inner transformation, by the God who transcends all human words and concepts, can take place” (page 45).
So silence can shape a kind of meditative preaching in which time to reflect, time for silent meditation, time for listening prayer, time for the Spirit’s own work, time for God’s living Word, are all more important than the many words that are usually the centerpiece of most ordinary sermons.
As for counseling and silence, Nouwen observes
“it is also possible to experience the relationship between pastor and counselee as a way of entering together into the loving silence of God and waiting there for the healing Word . . . pastoral counseling is the attempt to lead fearful parishioners into the silence of God, and to help them feel at home there, trusting that they will slowly discover the healing presence of the Spirit” (pages 45-46).
Perhaps Nouwen’s most relevant insight for ministers is his observation that “In a society in which entertainment and distraction are such important preoccupations, ministers are also tempted to join the ranks of those who consider it their primary task to keep other people busy” . . . instead “the question that must guide all organizing activity in a parish is not how to keep people busy, but how to keep them from being so busy that they can no longer hear the voice of God who speaks in silence” (pages 46-47).
Nouwen adds one final caution to this series of reflections: “Charity, not silence is the purpose of the spiritual life and of ministry.” Be sure to wrap your preaching, counseling, and organizing in the love of God and a genuine love for His people.
As Henri Nouwen observes, “If it is true that the word of Scripture should lead us into the silence of God, then we must be careful to use that word not simply as an interesting or motivating word, but as a word that creates the boundaries within which we can listen to the loving, caring, gentle presence of God” (The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, page 44).
“The simple words ‘The Lord is my shepherd’ can be spoken quietly and persistently in such a way that they become like a hedge around a garden in which God’s shepherding can be sensed . . .These words . . . can slowly descend from the mind into the heart. There they may offer the context in which an inner transformation, by the God who transcends all human words and concepts, can take place” (page 45).
So silence can shape a kind of meditative preaching in which time to reflect, time for silent meditation, time for listening prayer, time for the Spirit’s own work, time for God’s living Word, are all more important than the many words that are usually the centerpiece of most ordinary sermons.
As for counseling and silence, Nouwen observes
“it is also possible to experience the relationship between pastor and counselee as a way of entering together into the loving silence of God and waiting there for the healing Word . . . pastoral counseling is the attempt to lead fearful parishioners into the silence of God, and to help them feel at home there, trusting that they will slowly discover the healing presence of the Spirit” (pages 45-46).
Perhaps Nouwen’s most relevant insight for ministers is his observation that “In a society in which entertainment and distraction are such important preoccupations, ministers are also tempted to join the ranks of those who consider it their primary task to keep other people busy” . . . instead “the question that must guide all organizing activity in a parish is not how to keep people busy, but how to keep them from being so busy that they can no longer hear the voice of God who speaks in silence” (pages 46-47).
Nouwen adds one final caution to this series of reflections: “Charity, not silence is the purpose of the spiritual life and of ministry.” Be sure to wrap your preaching, counseling, and organizing in the love of God and a genuine love for His people.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
How Can We Practice a Ministry of Silence?
This is the next question that Henri Nouwen tackles for us. He says “It requires a strenuous discipline to make our ministry one that leads our people into the silence of God. That is the task Jesus has given us. The whole of Jesus’ ministry pointed away from himself to the Father who had sent him. To his disciples Jesus said, ‘The words I say to you I do not speak as from myself; it is the Father, living in me, who is doing this work’ (John 14:10). Jesus, the Word of God made flesh, spoke not to attract attention to himself but to show the way to his Father: ‘I came from the Father and have come into the world and now I leave the world to go to the Father’ (John 16:28). ‘I am going to prepare a place for you . . . so that where I am you may be too’ (John 14:2-3) (The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, page 42).
After noting the overly chatty nature of contemporary society, Nouwen concludes by observing that the sensitive use of silence in ministry (especially during quiet periods in corporate worship services) can move people towards an experience of God as a God of love: “couldn’t this be accomplished by gently and carefully converting the empty silence into a full silence, the anxious silence into a peaceful silence, and the restless silence into a restful silence, so that in this converted silence a real encounter with the loving Father could take place? What a power our word would have if it could enable people to befriend their silence!” (page 43).
The way Jesus spoke, and the way we speak as His followers, can influence people to begin to search for their Heavenly Father and to begin to listen to Him. As Eugene Peterson’s translation of John 14:-10 says in The Message, The Bible in Contemporary Language (NavPress, Colorado Springs, Colorado, 2002):
“The words I speak to you aren’t mere words. I don’t just make them up on my own. The Father who resides in me crafts each word into a divine act.”
As you minister to others may your Heavenly Father craft each word you speak so that it works divinely in the minds and hearts of those who listen. Let there be carefully crafted words accompanied by carefully crafted moments of silence.
After noting the overly chatty nature of contemporary society, Nouwen concludes by observing that the sensitive use of silence in ministry (especially during quiet periods in corporate worship services) can move people towards an experience of God as a God of love: “couldn’t this be accomplished by gently and carefully converting the empty silence into a full silence, the anxious silence into a peaceful silence, and the restless silence into a restful silence, so that in this converted silence a real encounter with the loving Father could take place? What a power our word would have if it could enable people to befriend their silence!” (page 43).
The way Jesus spoke, and the way we speak as His followers, can influence people to begin to search for their Heavenly Father and to begin to listen to Him. As Eugene Peterson’s translation of John 14:-10 says in The Message, The Bible in Contemporary Language (NavPress, Colorado Springs, Colorado, 2002):
“The words I speak to you aren’t mere words. I don’t just make them up on my own. The Father who resides in me crafts each word into a divine act.”
As you minister to others may your Heavenly Father craft each word you speak so that it works divinely in the minds and hearts of those who listen. Let there be carefully crafted words accompanied by carefully crafted moments of silence.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Speaking Out of Silence
Sometimes it’s the passages that I have not underlined that stand out the most when rereading a book like The Way of The Heart. That was the case with the following excerpt from Henri Nouwen’s reflections on how “Silence Teaches us to Speak” (The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, pages 40-42).
According to Nouwen, silence teaches us to speak by shaping our words. Words that emerge from silence come forth in fullness and presence, he writes, when they are born in the “divine silence in which love rests secure.” Now here is the passage that stood out for me when I read it earlier this evening on my commuter train:
“Here we can glimpse the great mystery in which we participate through silence and the Word, the mystery of God’s own speaking. Out of his eternal silence God spoke the Word, and through this Word created and recreated the world. In the beginning God spoke the land, the sea, and the sky. He spoke the sun, the moon, and the stars. He spoke plants, birds, fish, animals wild and tame. Finally, he spoke man and woman. Then in the fullness of time, God’s Word, through whom all had been created, became flesh and gave power to all who believe to become the children of God. In all this, the Word of God does not break the silence of God, but rather unfolds the immeasurable richness of his silence.”
“As soon as we begin to take hold of each other by our words, and use words to defend ourselves or offend others, the word no longer speaks of silence. But when the word calls forth the healing and restoring stillness of its own silence, few words are needed: much can be said without much being spoken” (page 41).
When we speak, may we have the wisdom and courage to speak out of silence.
According to Nouwen, silence teaches us to speak by shaping our words. Words that emerge from silence come forth in fullness and presence, he writes, when they are born in the “divine silence in which love rests secure.” Now here is the passage that stood out for me when I read it earlier this evening on my commuter train:
“Here we can glimpse the great mystery in which we participate through silence and the Word, the mystery of God’s own speaking. Out of his eternal silence God spoke the Word, and through this Word created and recreated the world. In the beginning God spoke the land, the sea, and the sky. He spoke the sun, the moon, and the stars. He spoke plants, birds, fish, animals wild and tame. Finally, he spoke man and woman. Then in the fullness of time, God’s Word, through whom all had been created, became flesh and gave power to all who believe to become the children of God. In all this, the Word of God does not break the silence of God, but rather unfolds the immeasurable richness of his silence.”
“As soon as we begin to take hold of each other by our words, and use words to defend ourselves or offend others, the word no longer speaks of silence. But when the word calls forth the healing and restoring stillness of its own silence, few words are needed: much can be said without much being spoken” (page 41).
When we speak, may we have the wisdom and courage to speak out of silence.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Silence Guards the Fire Within
Last weekend our men’s Saturday morning Bible study group was challenged to consider the presence or absence of silence in our daily lives. We meditated on listening to God in 1 Samuel 3:1-21, then watched a video clip that challenged us to consider whether we welcome silence or avoid it by always turning up the volume.
Henri Nouwen asserts that silence is essential because it “Guards the Fire Within” (The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, page 37). “Silence guards the inner heat of religious emotions. This inner heat is the life of the Holy Spirit within us. Thus, silence is the discipline by which the inner fire of God is tended and kept alive.”
By way of explanation and interpretation, Nouwen then expounds on quotations provided first by a certain Diadochus of Photiki, who wrote about “Spiritual Knowledge and Discrimination,” as quoted in volume one of The Philokalia (London &Boston: Faber & Faber, 1979). A second quotation comes from James O. Hannay's book The Wisdom of the Desert (London: Methuen, 1904, pages 205-206).
As Nouwen writes, “Diadochus of Photiki offers us a very concrete image: ‘When the door of the steambath is continually left open, the heat inside rapidly escapes through it; likewise the soul, in its desire to say many things, dissipates its remembrance of God through the door of speech, even though everything it says may be good . . . Ideas of value always shun verbosity, being foreign to confusion and fantasy. Timely silence, then, is precious, for it is nothing less than the mother of the wisest thoughts.’”
Commenting on the sayings of the Desert Fathers, James Hannay writes: “The mouth is not a door through which any evil enters. The ears are such doors as are the eyes. The mouth is a door only for exit. What was it that they [the Desert Fathers] feared to let go out? What was it which someone might steal out of their hearts, as a thief takes the steed from the stable when the door is left open? It can have been nothing else than the force of religious emotion.”
“What needs to be guarded is the life of the Spirit within us. Especially we who want to witness to the presence of God’s Spirit in the world need to tend the fire within with the utmost care,” writes Nouwen (page 39).
“It is as if we are not sure that God’s Spirit can touch the hearts of people: we have to help him out and, with many words, convince others of his power. But it is precisely this wordy unbelief that quenches the fire.
“Our first and foremost task is faithfully to care for the inward fire so that when it is really needed it can offer warmth and light to lost travelers.”
Henri Nouwen asserts that silence is essential because it “Guards the Fire Within” (The Way of The Heart, Ballantine Books, 1983, page 37). “Silence guards the inner heat of religious emotions. This inner heat is the life of the Holy Spirit within us. Thus, silence is the discipline by which the inner fire of God is tended and kept alive.”
By way of explanation and interpretation, Nouwen then expounds on quotations provided first by a certain Diadochus of Photiki, who wrote about “Spiritual Knowledge and Discrimination,” as quoted in volume one of The Philokalia (London &Boston: Faber & Faber, 1979). A second quotation comes from James O. Hannay's book The Wisdom of the Desert (London: Methuen, 1904, pages 205-206).
As Nouwen writes, “Diadochus of Photiki offers us a very concrete image: ‘When the door of the steambath is continually left open, the heat inside rapidly escapes through it; likewise the soul, in its desire to say many things, dissipates its remembrance of God through the door of speech, even though everything it says may be good . . . Ideas of value always shun verbosity, being foreign to confusion and fantasy. Timely silence, then, is precious, for it is nothing less than the mother of the wisest thoughts.’”
Commenting on the sayings of the Desert Fathers, James Hannay writes: “The mouth is not a door through which any evil enters. The ears are such doors as are the eyes. The mouth is a door only for exit. What was it that they [the Desert Fathers] feared to let go out? What was it which someone might steal out of their hearts, as a thief takes the steed from the stable when the door is left open? It can have been nothing else than the force of religious emotion.”
“What needs to be guarded is the life of the Spirit within us. Especially we who want to witness to the presence of God’s Spirit in the world need to tend the fire within with the utmost care,” writes Nouwen (page 39).
“It is as if we are not sure that God’s Spirit can touch the hearts of people: we have to help him out and, with many words, convince others of his power. But it is precisely this wordy unbelief that quenches the fire.
“Our first and foremost task is faithfully to care for the inward fire so that when it is really needed it can offer warmth and light to lost travelers.”
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