"Punctuating our days with prayer...'

"I can be
in a crowd,
or by myself,
or almost anywhere..

I get on my knees.
There I am before
the Love that
changes me.

See, I don't know how,
but there's power
when I'm on my knees "
- N. Mullen

I've used Jaci Velasquez's, I Get on My Knees as the keynote for an earlier post, but it seems perfect for today's message. I promised, in last week's post on celebrating the Sabbath, that I would share more from Krista Tippett's interfaith conversation with the Dalai Lama (and friends) on, "Pursuing Happiness," hosted by Emory University. And I try to always keep my promises.

In the last decade, I've enjoyed finding threads of common practice within the rich tapestry of our vast global faith community. Last week, it was Rabbi Sacks' exploration of the Judaic practice of Shabbat, that enriched (and has continued to deepen) my own celebration of the Sabbath.

This week it has been Islamic scholar Seyyed Hossein Nasir's insights about Salah, the practice of praying five times daily to Allah, and the follow-up contributions of Rabbi Sacks, and Episcopal Bishop Katherine Jefferts Schori, that I found sisterhood in. Each was responding to Krista's question:

"What are the corollaries in your traditions for generating calmness of mind?"

Dr. Nasir:

"Islamic tradition we have the five daily prayers. You pull yourself out of the flow of time, into a space that is sacred-ized. And for a few minutes, even if your mind is running like mad, you have to force yourself, to pull yourself, out of that context.

"This exercise, of praying five times a day, has an enormous effect on our life, and every day the social dialog goes faster and faster. These prayers are very centering, and act to give punctuation throughout our day."

Rabbi Sacks:

"In Judaism it is the simple act of prayer. Three times a day, three things happen when I pray.

"The first thing is thanks. The first prayer we pray is, "Thank you God for giving me my life."

"The second thing is confession. You feel the ability to acknowledge your mistakes, and then you grow...you learn by those.

"And the third thing is simply the basic expereince of prayer altogether. Standing in the presence of a deeper form of being.

"Knowing that this universe is not indifferent to my existence, deaf to my prayers, blind to my hopes. And when I feel in that presence of the Being at the heart of my being, then I actually experience the greatest line of all in the life of faith, from Psalm 23, "though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me." We can face the future without fear, if we know, that we do not face it alone."

Bishop Schori:

"We share many of the same forms of prayer...prayer as awareness and attending. Christians sometimes pray with images, and sometimes we pray without images...a kind of emptying prayer.

"I think the part that is perhaps most attractive to "new learners" is about understanding all of existence as prayer.

"The Celts were very effective at blessing each moment of the day. Blessing the milking of the cow, blessing the covering of the fire at night. Brother Lawrence blessed the washing of the dishes. Runners begin to understand the blessing that come in putting your body to work, and emptying the mind.

"There are practices that each of us participates in that are about simple awareness of God's presence in every breath, in every moment, in every encounter, in every challenge. It's that awareness, and attending to it, that I think is so significant."

Dr. Nassir added:

"In Islam, as in Judaism, the sense of priesthood is divided between all human beings, and each person stands directly before God."

I loved hearing how each faith tradition brings a unique perspective on the practice of prayer. But it was having my understanding of Salahexpanded, and discovering the corollaries between this sacred Islamic act of devotion, and my own daily practice of prayer, that was so meaningful for me this week. Mary Baker Eddy, the Discoverer and Founder of Christian Science writes in her primary work, Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures:

"Jesus prayed; he withdrew from the material senses
to refresh his heart with brighter,
with spiritual views."

and

"Jesus' prayers were deep and conscientious
protests of Truth, — of man's likeness to God
and of man's unity with Truth and Love."

Isn't it lovely to see that the substance of our devotion is shared, however different our rituals and symbols. This week...even though I try to live in a constant attitude of prayer, and pause, often, throughout the day to "refresh my heart with brighter, with spiritual views,"...I made an effort to join, in Spirit, with my Muslim neighbors in the practice of Salah.

I sought to perform a cleansing "ritual" that was consistent with my own faith. I consciously prayed for "submergence in Spirit" (from Eddy's definition of "baptism"), then I turned in the direction of my own spiritual "mecca"...the kingdom of heaven within, and bowed before God, "in holy submission to the divine..." What a blessing.

It's been truly lovely...and love-inspired. By seeking to understand the practice of Salah, I have felt such a sweet sense of uniting, in prayer, with all of my faith neighbors. It has left me with a profound sense of "peace on earth, and goodwill towards men"...all men, women, children, creatures, trees, rocks....all creation. Impartially, universally, unconditionally united in prayer.


One of my favorite spiritual songs says:

"The outward symbols disappear
from him whose inward sight is clear.
And small must be the choice of days
to him who fills them all with praise.

Keep while ye need it, brothers mine,
With honest zeal your Christmas [outward] sign.
But judge not him who every morn
feels in his heart the Lord Christ [spiritual man] born.”
- John G. Whittier

At this point, there are still some wonderful "outward" signs and symbols that I love dearly...singing hymns, kneeling on Sacrament Sunday, praying "The Daily Prayer," reading the Weekly Bible Lesson, etc. Each one a loved practice of devotion.

Krista's interview with Rabbi Sacks, His Holiness the Dalai Lama, Dr. Nasir, and Bishop Schori, has helped me see that I share my love for the practice of prayer with billions of spiritual thinkers worldwide. I am so grateful to know that we can live together in respect for one another's ever-clearing inward sight, and join together in grateful praise.

with Love,


Kate

[photo credit: silhouette of Sandy Wilder on the shore of the Tiberias Sea by Duncan Wilder 2012]

"My sweet Lord..."

"My sweet Lord
Hmm, my Lord
Hmm, my Lord

Now, I really want to see you
Really want to be with you
Really want to see you Lord
But it takes so long, my Lord

My sweet Lord, Hallelujah
Hmm, my lord Hallelujah
My, my, my lord Hallelujah…"
-     George Harrison "My Sweet Lord"

This time it didn't take so long.  But I am getting ahead of myself. 

On Mondays and Thursdays I am at a college for office hours.  At this college, the 30 minutes from ten to ten-thirty is spent in quiet.  Students, staff, faculty…everyone stops for thirty minutes of silent inspiration…or at least I think that is the intent.

Last term I spent that half hour studying, taking calls, praying for myself…and others.  Yes, it was quiet, it was inspiring…but somehow it wasn't very different from the rest of my day as a spiritual healer.  It was a continuation…not the interruption…of my work day, and it was not "quiet" in the way I needed.  I knew the difference. 

But this term I had the opportunity to hear a friend talk about her relationship with "quiet time" and it felt all to0 familiar…and the insights, very exciting.  She shared in our Wednesday worship meeting that she, too, had struggled within herself about how to use this space of time.  At one point colleagues had invited her to join them in their outdoor quiet circle and that week she had decided to put her quiet "work" - reading, studying, preparing for the next class - aside and go sit in silent communion with her friends.  She said that it was such a rich and inspiring time for her. 

Something about her experience resonated with me.  I wanted that "something more" again.  I wanted to not be so busy in my prayer and quietness.  With her encouragement,  the next time I was at the college I shyly joined their silent circle in the sun.  And it was glorious.  Thirty minutes of true silence.  No prayer agenda items, treatments, ToDo lists, rehearsing of quotes or citations, wrestling with "angels",  or mental arguments….just silence, just listening...no mental speaking.   When a thought would come, I would gently usher it into stillness.  I had forgotten how much I really LOVED meditative silence.   At the end of that first day I was hooked.  I couldn't wait for my own self-imposed quiet times…thirty minutes, an hour, two….back to basics.  Back to the very foundation stones of my spiritual practice.  Not praying about, or for, anything or anyone….just listening.  No mantras, statements of affirmation…just silence.

And the more I sat with my silence the better I became at watching thoughts….some benign, and some not so good…wandering  in, trying to get a rise out of me, giving up, and leaving for lack of engagement.

So, that brings us to this morning.  It was a gorgeous fall day in Elsah.  The air was cool, the sun was bright…but not hot.  I made my way to the concrete circle in the middle of the lawn right as the Chapel bells rang at the top of the hour.  I sat on the brick pavers, wrapped my paisley pashmina around my shoulders to ward of any chill that might distract, leaned back against the high concrete curbing and closed my eyes. 

I let the sun and the silence penetrate deeply.  I opened my eyes briefly as three other women joined the circle but quickly returned to the stillness of a space that was full in its emptiness.

As I sat there listening, I heard a man at right at my left ear say, "Excuse me…" in the warmest, kindest, richest voice.  It was so close that I almost felt His breath move the stray hairs near my ear. From somewhere deep inside I immediately responded with "Speak Lord, for Thy servant heareth…"  But there was nothing more.  I wondered for the briefest moment if perhaps I was mistaken and someone had actually come by the office, seen me outside in the circle, and come over to gently ask for help.  I opened my eyes briefly, but there were only the three other women in the circle…no men. 

It was then that I truly knew that it was God's voice I had heard.  You see, God's voice to me has always been a woman's voice.  But today, had I heard a woman's voice I might have assumed it was one of the other women in the circle speaking.  This voice was so clearly not a woman's and so obviously His….and I was so grateful.

It was only then that I pondered what God had actually said.  "Excuse me…" in the loveliest way.  Gently inserting His voice...and presence...into my reverie.  It was like my small daughter's gentle tug at the hem of my jacket after church as I stood in the lobby talking to friends, or my mother's loving "excuse me" at my bedroom door when as a child I would have stayed up too late reading and she wanted me to know that she was still up and I might want to turn out the light and get some rest…

It was a gentle reminder of His presence…and it was wonderful…
Kate