Spiritual Doldrums

L.D. Turner

Growing up as I did on the coastline, I had numerous friends who were into sailing. I would go out with them from time to time and I vividly recall those experiences when there was just no wind available to catch our sails and, novices that we were, we just sat there baking in the South West Florida sun. My more seasoned friends used to call these times the “doldrums.” When we were in the doldrums, either we didn’t move at all, or if we did, everything was sluggish, in slow motion, and required great effort.

 I suspect most of us have similar periods in our spiritual lives – a sort of spiritual doldrums -  where nothing much seems to be occurring. I am sure that most sincere aspirants have them – those times of spiritual aridity where we feel we are just going through the motions but nothing of substance is happening. Even our cherished quiet time takes great effort and, although we may not be spiritually dead, we may feel that we have one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel.

 Have you ever been there? God knows I have. As I said before, I think this is a fairly common occurrence along the spiritual highway. It may not be as distinct or as deep as the “dark night of the soul” that John of the Cross described so well, but sometimes it feels that way. I mention all of this because a few days back, when reviewing a book I have read several times, I ran across a great description of these sorts of spiritual doldrums when our sails seem useless and we experience a lack of God’s presence or sense we are, at best, just drifting with the current. The book I am speaking of is T.M. Moore’s Disciplines of Grace and I would highly recommend this work to anyone interested in spiritual disciplines and spiritual formation. All in all, it is a great read. Moore begins the introduction to the book with the following words, which are highly relevant to the topic at hand:

 We’ve all known them – those times when the wind seems to go out of the sails of our spiritual lives. Our time in the Word of God is unexciting and unfruitful. Prayer is a struggle. Worship never quite satisfies. Our devotions are either skimpy are even skipped. Our witness is virtually nonexistent. Too many things seem more important than spirituality, and we would not describe ourselves as “currently on the cutting edge of Christian growth.”

 Moore’s final phrase is both candid and convicting. I can say without reservation that much of the time I have spent in devotion has had that quality of feeling anything but being on the cutting edge of Christian growth. While it is true that I have experienced an undeniable call upon my life to utilize my God-given gifts of exhortation and teaching toward the establishment of God’s Kingdom on earth, there have been plenty of times I have felt like the spiritual equivalent of a thirsty elephant trumpeting about the arid banks of a dried up watering hole. Yet in an odd sort of paradox, these times of spiritual dryness and seeming distance from God have often been blessings in disguise and have helped me grow in wisdom and garner a deeper understanding of the fact that God can indeed by trusted, even when appearances seem to indicate otherwise.

 Still, I have often found that when I am in the midst of one of these droughts of the spirit, it is easy to lose perspective on spiritual reality. Confusion creeps in through cracks in my faith and a generalized sense of floundering and malaise set in. The only thing that I am certain of during these times is the reality that something is out of kilter. T.M. Moore continues:

 Nobody needs to tell us when we are spiritually becalmed, and a lot of navel gazing about why or how we got in this situation would not be particularly helpful. What we want is out, or rather, back on course with the Lord, our spiritual sails filled with the powerful winds of his Spirit once again. We want our devotions to come alive, our worship to flare anew with spiritual fire, the bounce to return to our spiritual step. We want to rediscover the presence of the Lord, to experience his glory and to bask afresh in the certainty and warmth of his mercy and grace. We yearn for the Word to speak clearly and powerfully to us. We long to know the assurance that our prayers are being heard and to experience the filling of God’s Spirit in fresh, new gusts of power and life. We want our hearts to pound with love for our God, and we want to be able to share that love more fervently and consistently to people around us.

 Anyone out there relate to the experience Moore’s words describe? I know I surely do and more to the point, my own personal experience has validated those words many times over. The overriding question thus becomes: “How does one get out of this mess?”

 Moore takes the approach that the most certain method of gaining freedom from the sort of spiritual malaise described above is through the practice of spiritual disciplines such as prayer, meditation, scripture study, fasting, quiet times and the like. I would tend to agree and I base that agreement once again on my own personal experience.

 Moore makes a valid point when he says asserts that the problems with this type of spiritual doldrums lie not so much with the lack of wind, but rather, the condition of our sails.

 However we have arrived at the spiritual doldrums, this much is certain: within the disciplines of grace…..lies the key to our recovery. For the Spirit of God is still blowing in those arenas as faithfully and powerfully as ever. The problem is that our sails have become tattered and in need of repair, and frankly, some of them have never been unfurled to catch his life-giving wind.

 It doesn’t matter how sincere or even how disciplined we may be in regards to our spiritual formation, the fact is we live in a world that is not conducive to living the kind of life Jesus calls his followers to. As a result, we followers of the Master can get beaten down, damaged, and diseased at both an obvious and at a subtle level. The world where we live, move, and have our being operates with values and principles that are the antithesis of those Christ enumerated in the Sermon on the Mount. It is little wonder that our sails can become damaged.

 Then again, there are some of us who have never raised our sails. Either through lack of discipline, laziness, and most insidious of all, faulty teaching, there are those followers of Jesus who have never practiced the spiritual disciples spoken of by Moore. I find it tragic that there are those present in the church that label anyone who either teaches about or engages in the classical spiritual disciplines as heretics. Personally, I find it appalling and even nauseating that anyone living 2000 years after the fact would have the arrogance and audacity to call anyone a heretic. Those that do so cause more damage and heartache to the Body of Christ than any external threat to the faith. And the irony of it all is that they do this without having even the faintest possibility of knowing with any degree of certainty what may indeed constitute an actual heresy. To use scripture to back up their claims is both a cop out and begging the question.

 Who knows? It may be that these folks are the real heretics.

 The fact is the spiritual disciplines were practiced by Jesus, the disciples, and certainly the early church fathers. All you have to do is read the works of the early Christians to see what sort of practices they engaged in. And it is these very disciples, described so well by T.M. Moore and many other writers, that can help lift us out of those doldrums we have been discussing. This debate has nothing to do with faith versus works, although many try to make it so. Personally, I firmly believe that the whole faith/works controversy has caused more disunity, disharmony, and damage to the church universal than any other conflict. This issue, however, is for another place and time – not this article.

 Rufus Jones, a renowned scholar, Quaker writer, mystic, and friend of my grandfather, is often quoted as saying:

 The grace of God is like the wind blowing across the sea. If you want to reach the other shore, you have to raise your sail.

 My advice to anyone experiencing significant spiritual dryness is to pray for relief and advancement, while at the same time, engaging in a select few of the classical spiritual disciplines. Experiment a bit and see what fits you best. According to T.M. Moore, and I concur completely, the spiritual disciplines are a part of the grace of God and are provided by the Father to help us grow in him.

 Granted, there may be periods of struggle and sacrifice as you discipline yourself to practice the spiritual exercises, but it will be time well spent. One thing is certain, it you do nothing, nothing will get done. That, my friend, is a fundamental law of the doldrums.

 © L.D. Turner 2009/All Rights Reserved

The Fragrance of God

L. Dwight “Mick” Turner

* A number of readers have asked that I post this essay, which was originally posted over a year ago, in its updated form. So, here it is – an bit of writing that brings back many fond memories of my grandfather.

This morning when I woke up and shook the fog out of my head, I became aware that I was thinking back on an experience I had undergone many years ago. Perhaps I had dreamed about it or it could be that the Sacred Spirit was bringing it to my attention for some reason. As I go through my day I need to be aware of this, in case the Spirit is indeed trying to communicate something to me. I have found that, at least in my case, God often gets messages past my thick mind by speaking to me in this indirect but unmistakable manner.

 Sometimes I wish I could hear from God a little more easily. I find myself from time to time wishing that I could just walk out in my back yard first thing in the morning and find God waiting there to talk to me out of a burning bush. I would even settle for a braying donkey.  It doesn’t matter so much how he did it, just that it was a little less troublesome and inconsistent.

 My old friend Jesse often tells me that God speaks to all of us all of the time, but we rarely have ears to hear. He claims that many people’s dependence upon thing like Bible reading, sermon-listening, and book study have blinded us, or perhaps I should say deafened us, to the crystal clear voice of God. For Jesse, God speaks through three primary media, nature, the inner light and other seekers. It could very well be that Jesse is right when he says we have become so dependent upon the ways we have been instructed to hear God’s voice that we can’t discern his speaking when it comes in other ways.

 Jesse reminds me of my grandfather when he talks like this. I have mentioned my grandfather before on this blog. A southern, rural man to the core, my grandfather was devoutly attuned to the rhythms of the natural world. As a child I often marveled at his knowledge, wisdom, and uncanny ability to see things that others couldn’t see. A Quaker and a mystic by birth, from the time he was a teenager my grandfather was a consternation to his parents because of his stubborn resistance to going to First Day Meeting as the Society of Friends called it. “Church” is basically what it was to others. This resistance did not go away once my grandfather reached his adult years and now, rather than to my great-grandparents, his absence became a consternation to his wife, my grandmother.

 The reason I mention all of this is that it was often through my grandfather that I learned that God did indeed speak through venues other than the church, the preacher, the Bible, and, in his day, radio-evangelists. I carry to this day one distinct memory of my grandfather’s approach to religion that was for me an epiphany of sorts. I was 12-years-old and our family was visiting my grandparents during the Easter season. Little did I know at the time that this would be a Palm Sunday I would never forget.

 As usual, my grandfather had resisted the family’s repeated entreaties that he join them for the Sunday morning meeting at the “Meeting House.” Even more to my surprise, he asked me if I wanted to stay home with him and “help him take care of a few things.” You can’t imagine my delight at this turn of events. I responded that I would love to stay home and help him and that pretty much settled the matter.

 After putting out some extra feed for his two mules, my grandfather took me for a walk in the woods adjacent to his farm. Eventually we came to a clearing, a meadow actually, that was dotted with patches of wild flowers. From our vantage point, the meadow seemed to extend forever and the patches of flowers were like explosions of color in a sea of green. As was often the case, we walked and talked about all kinds of things. I had something I wanted to ask him about and finally got around to it, although I was somewhat apprehensive about asking him.

 “PaPa,” I began. “Why is it you never go to church with the family? I have only seen you go a couple of times. Do you hate church?”

 “No, son….I don’t hate church. In fact, I like it,” he replied, chuckling under his breath. “I just like to spend my Sabbath day being with God.”

 I recall being mystified by his answer and, after scratching my head for a minute or two, go around to asking the logical question a 12-year-old boy might ask.

 “But church is where God is,” I said. “If you want to be with God, why don’t you go to church? It doesn’t make sense, PaPa.”

 “God isn’t in church much these days, son. At least I haven’t seen him there in awhile,” responded PaPa. “At church preachers preach (they were Evangelical Quakers), singers sing, prayers pray, and gossipers gossip. That doesn’t leave much time for God to say anything.”

 I remember he paused for quite awhile to let his words sink into my still young mind.

 “I figure if I need to be with God, to talk to him and listen to him, I need to come out here where it is quiet,” he continued. “God didn’t build that church, but he sure as hell made these woods and this meadow. I figure if I want to talk to God I need to go where he lives.”

 “I think I understand, PaPa,” I recall saying. “But isn’t religion important? My Mom says my religion is the most important part of life and that when I grow up, I can’t live without it.”

 After a long silence, my grandfather looked me squarely in the eyes and told me in no uncertain terms what he thought about my question.

 “Just keep in mind a few things and it will make your spiritual life easier and less troublesome,” he said. “First, understand that religion doesn’t have anything to do with God, and vice versa.” My grandfather had to explain what vice versa meant. I was only 12.

 “Religion is an invention, just like the wheel and the telephone,” PaPa continued. “Spirituality is sometimes a part of religion but most of the time it isn’t. Unlike religion, spirituality is not an invention. It is something as much a part of being human as breathing, sleeping, and sex. All of those things are built into us from the start. So is spirituality. Our job is so make our lives spiritual every day. Religion is supposed to help with that, but most of the time it prevents spirituality, it doesn’t create it.”

 I guess my grandfather was one of the early people to be dealing with the religion vs. spirituality conflict. These days the familiar adage about being spiritual but not religious is so commonplace it has lost much of its real impact. I should not be surprised, however, at my grandfather’s words. As I mentioned, he was a Quaker and a mystic throughout his life. In fact, he knew the Quaker mystic Rufus Jones quite well and often told stories about Jones. I never had the opportunity to meet Rufus Jones, although I would have loved to. Jones died in 1948 I think, which was a year before my birth.

 As for me, I was thoroughly confused by this time. I struggled to understand what my PaPa had said, especially the business about spirituality and religion. I asked grandfather if he could tell me again about the difference between the two. Here is where the epiphany came in and also where Rufus Jones fits into this story.

 “Come over here,” said PaPa as he got up and walked toward one of the flower explosions in the meadow. “Now, pay close attention and I think you will get the picture.”

 Grandfather kneeled down and picked an absolutely beautiful bright purple flower. As I knelt beside him, he said, “I want to teach you something Rufus Jones taught me many years ago. This is probably the most beautiful flower in this whole meadow. Imagine this is the church. Sometimes churches can be really beautiful places, inside and out. And the folks inside can be beautiful, too.”

 I listened carefully and appreciated the flower, but wasn’t sure what he was getting at.

 “Now, hold the flower to your nose and take a good whiff. Smell it deeply.”

 Taking a deep breath I held the flower to my nose and smelled of it. Oddly, there was no fragrance, either good or bad.

 “There is no smell, PaPa,” I reported.

 “Isn’t it strange that a flower so attractive can have no fragrance?” said PaPa. “Churches can be like that as well. Our family goes to a church a lot like that.”

 He then picked another flower, not unattractive by any means, but far less striking than the first. He held it to my nose.

 “It is wonderful, PaPa,” I said after drinking deeply of the fragrance of this rather ordinary looking flower. “What is it, PaPa?”

 “Spirituality,” he said in a serene voice filled with certainty.

 © L.D. Turner 2008/All Rights Reserved

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Mick Turner

  Although many things in the modern world conspire to deafen us to the subtle voice of the Father, rest assured that his voice is indeed there. God calls to us continually, asking us to put down our nets and, like the fishermen disciples of old, come and follow. Jesus tells us in John 6:44 that no one comes to him unless the Father first draws him. What this means in highly practical terms is that we not only have a God, we have a proactive God that seeks relationship with us. Our end of the bargain is to put ourselves into a position of deepening receptivity, so that we might hear his voice more clearly and experience his love more intensely.

 There are others who hear God’s voice and respond, accepting his offer of grace, forgiveness, and acceptance into his blessed family. These are generally sincere disciples and are often quite active in their local church fellowship. They also involve themselves in service work and serve the Master to the best of their ability. Yet it is these very people – these sincere followers of the Lord – who, in their heart of hearts, often find themselves asking, “Isn’t there something more to the Christian life? I feel like something is missing. I can’t put my finger on it, but there is a vague emptiness…”

 It is to these genuine disciples that the still, small voice comes beckoning in the silence of a sleepless night, or drifting in on the golden leaves of an autumn wind. That irresistible, persistent voice that repeatedly whispers:

 Come, follow me….

 When we find ourselves in such a situation, we need to recognize that we are both blessed and vulnerable. We are blessed in that the divine source, the creative power that put this awe-inspiring universe together, seeks relationship with us. The incomprehensible intelligence that maintains all that we see and even more remarkably, the mysterious quantum realm that we don’t see, together in harmonious balance desires intimacy with us – intimacy beyond anything we have ever known.

 Yes, friend, God calls to us in a gentle voice that only the mystic can truly hear. And in that persistent calling, the Creator invites us to join in the mysterious dance of spiritual transformation. Most amazingly, he is not calling us to go into a monastic hideaway or a hermit’s cave, but to stay put right where we are. And if we stay and we become open and discerning, he will use the mundane events of our daily round as his methodology of instruction. More often than not, God’s classroom is characterized by the pedagogy of the ordinary and it is precisely in the realm of the unremarkable that true divine alchemy occurs. Sue Monk Kidd, a woman who knows this process through personal experience, describes it this way:

 It seems to me that Christ continually calls us through the daily events of our lives…In moments like these God stirs the waters of our lives and beckons us beyond where we are to a new dimension of closeness with Him…God desires to transform certain experiences of ours into awakening events. These may be our most common moments, but if we let them they can become doorways to a deeper encounter with Him. Who knows at what moment we may begin to wake up to the astonishing fact that Emmanuel (God with us) is still God’s name, that every moment the Word of God, Jesus Christ, is coming to us.

 I know that in my experience, God calls me in ways I never expected. I have discerned his voice in the sacred silence of meditative stillness and his message has often slapped me to my senses as it spoke from the pages of Holy Scripture. I have also learned to be increasingly sensitive to his call as manifest in the choreographic harmony of the natural world and especially when it dances in the eyes of a child.

 If you want to validate the existence of this divine presence, forget your test tubes, your state-of-the-art laboratories, and your most advanced computer programs. Instead, go find a child and spend the day with them. Any kid can teach you more about the inner workings of this energy, what the Chinese call the ‘Dao, than an entire university physics faculty.

Children are one of the most spectacular yet subtly sublime gifts God can bestow upon us. God surprised and blessed my wife and I with the birth of Salina in May, 2004. For me, it was particularly surprising as I was 55 at the time. Now I am 60 and Salina celebrated her fifth birthday a few months back. In this past half-decade, I have been given a new perspective on why Jesus told us to be as little children if we wanted to see the kingdom.

Salina has always amazed me with her curiosity, her sense of discovery, and especially her spontaneous wonder and awe as she encounters things new and exciting. Further, she never tires of things that strike her fancy, especially if I do something that she likes but has never really seen before. I am reminded, for example, when I first showed her how to blow bubbles with bubble gum. For me, it was old hat – but for her, this simple act was like seeing a rainbow for the first time or discovering the wonders of ice cream. Whenever I produced a large, pink bubble as if by magic, she would pop it with her hand, laugh in that way that only children can laugh, and say, “Do it again, Daddy; do it again.”

This amazing ability to turn something new into an almost sacred event is, I think, part of that unsullied and untainted aspect of the image of God that we are blessed with in our creation. Moreover, children never seem to tire of monotony, at least until they get a bit older. At those miracle ages of two through five or so, kids just seem to revel in both newness and repetition. I am reminded of the famous words of G.K. Chesterton:

Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity to make all daisies appear alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never grown tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite for infancy: for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.”

Sometimes when I sit quietly and open myself to what Chesterton says in these few words and what the Holy Spirit speaks to me when I reflect on them, I am literally stunned into silence; and then I shiver.

Children have not forgotten how to experience our world with a sense of wonder and awe. Noted Jewish philosopher Abraham Heschel, one of my very favorite authors, calls this capacity for reverence in life “radical amazement” and affirms that the spiritual journey cannot be completed until we reattain this inborn spiritual quality. Heschel makes this statement, “The beginning of awe is wonder and the beginning of wisdom is awe.” When I first discovered these words, I pondered on the meaning for weeks and eventually discovered by doing so I totally lost their true import. I have come to see that Heschel is alluding to the fact that true wisdom begins with the experience of awe, and this basic sense of “radical amazement” has its birth in a childlike wonder at the incredible thing we flippantly call “life” ; the unfathomable creation that surrounds us every moment. I will let Heschel say the rest:

The secret of every being is the divine care and concern that are invested in it. Something sacred is at stake in every event…..The meaning of awe is to realize that life takes place under wide horizons, horizons that range beyond the span of an individual life or even the life of a nation, a generation, or an era. Awe enables us to perceive in the world intimations of the divine, to sense in small things the beginning of infinite significance, to sense the ultimate in the common and simple; to feel in the rush of the passing the stillness of the eternal.

Deep in my personal spirit, when it is connected with and animated by the Holy Spirit, I know with certainty that my daughter Salina innately understands this. She cannot articulate it with the eloquence of Heschel but she expresses this sense of radical amazement nonetheless. Every time she giggles when Daddy blows a bubble; every time she sits on the deck and watches birds feeding in the back yard and cows feeding in the field beyond; every time her eyes dance with wonder when she sees a sunset and screams, “Look Daddy, God is smiling,” – I know she gets it just as much as Heschel ever did and just as much as I long to once again.

I am always amazed at how she sees the world in all its glory, the way God intended it to be seen, and responds without any sense of guile or bewilderment. Just yesterday we stopped the car along a rural lane near our home to watch a group of wild geese circle a field, then land in a large pond. My daughter’s eyes grew wide as she saw these birds gracefully glide almost silently on to the surface of the water. She sat there spellbound as she quietly took in this aspect of God’s remarkable world.

 My grandfather was in many ways my first spiritual director. Working as a game warden, a career that my father also pursued, he spent most of his time in natural settings and he had this uncanny ability to see the intricate and interconnected patterns that were everywhere to be witnessed if a person only had “eyes to see.” My grandfather often said that it was important to see each new day with what he called “fresh eyes.” A deeply spiritual man, he rarely attended the Baptist Church where my grandmother was an active member. Instead, he often went off into the woods of north Alabama with one of us grandkids in tow, giving us his own version of Sunday School.

 I don’t say this to discount the importance of church-going, only to say that, for my grandfather, it was not a high priority. Coming from a family with a long tradition of Quakerism, my grandfather treasured silence and solitude and often told me that my “inner light” could best be seen on a calm lake or pristine mountaintop. According to my grandfather, the best way to rediscover my “fresh eyes” was to go into nature and go into “the sacred silence,” then just notice what was going on around me. Yesterday, as I watched Salina as she “noticed” the geese as they went about their business, I understood deeply that she had “fresh eyes” and that most children possessed this significant talent, at least until they were educated out of it.

 I also understood why my grandfather never said I needed to develop fresh eyes; he always said I needed to rediscover them. The childlike perspective of awe and wonder that we all possessed when we were young is still there. Our task, with the divine assistance of the Holy Spirit, is to go through the cognitive clutter we have all accumulated and find it once again.

 On the way home I also recalled a passage from a remarkable little book, written by Jeanne Gowen Dennis. The book is entitled, Running Barefoot on Holy Ground and subtitled, Childlike Intimacy With God. A fine and educative book, “Running Barefoot” discusses the notion of having fresh eyes. Let’s listen to the author:

 “Why do children notice so many things that adults miss? Maybe being closer to the ground gives them an advantage. Perhaps it’s because they’re discovering the wonders of the world around them for the first, second, or twentieth time, and somehow the novelty has not yet worn off. Unlike most adults, little children also pay attention to details. We are so distracted by our responsibilities that we often miss what is right before us. Perhaps we should take regular walks with toddlers and let them lead us along. Still, we’ll only learn to see through their eyes if we use the time to exercise our sight, not just our bodies.”

 Having Salina around has been a blessing in many wonderful ways, but one of the most beneficial spiritual lessons she has brought my way is helping me rediscover my fresh eyes – helping me learn to see again. She has in some magnificent manner taught me the spiritual discipline of “noticing.” For example, there was the time she looked into a clear night sky at a quarter-moon and said, “Look, it’s just like my fingernail,” or the occasion when she sat in wondrous rapture watching three butterflies flitting about on our back deck. As the two of us “noticed” the choreography of their airborne dance, I became aware that I was, for a few brief moments, actually seeing what was going on. It was, in a word, exhilarating.

 All of this comes natural to children, but we adults must now somehow train ourselves to be open to the marvels God parades before us on a daily basis. It not only involves “slowing down to smell the roses,” no – it goes much deeper than that.  In my experience, I have had to learn to live in my body again; allowing myself enough time to become reacquainted with my five basis senses and perhaps discover a few I didn’t know, or more likely forgot, that I even had. In order to see like a child, I needed to rediscover how to experience life in the pristine clarity of the moment – unsullied by morbid memories or future fears.

 I not only needed to learn how to see – I needed to learn how to be.

 A good way to begin this process of rediscovery is by learning to pay attention to what is coming in through your senses. Pick on of your senses, say hearing, and go outside and just spend five minutes paying attention to what you hear – the birds chirping in the trees, a distant plane overhead, a passing truck on the Interstate two miles away. Don’t strain to do this; simply allow the sounds to come in and just notice them. Just allow them to be what they are and just allow yourself to just be. I have found it useful to spend about three days on each one of my senses and to keep a journal of my experiences. I record what I noticed and also what prevented me from being present to my surroundings. For me, as well as others I have taught to use this exercise, let the sense of vision be the last one you focus on. I can’t explain why this seems to be the best way to do this, all I can say is, for the majority of people, it works best that way.

 In conclusion, let me suggest one other thing that might seem a bit silly to you. You may, in fact, think this is childish. Yet, when you think about it, that’s the whole point, isn’t it. Try doing things the way a young child does them. Experiment with your body and your posture. What do I mean? I’ll close with this quotation, again from Dennis’ book:

 “To see as children see, all our senses must be alert. New worlds open up when children exercise their power of sight. They see with fresh eyes – fully, simply, and in intricate detail. Young children experience each new discovery to the fullest, first with their mouths, then with their hands and fingers, and finally with their whole beings. They “see” with all their senses and in every possible position: on their knees, on their stomachs, on their backs, upside down, backward, and sideways. They explore the world with eyes wide open, closed, or squinted; through drinking glasses or cellophane; from inside cabinets, under coffee tables, and even in mirrors.”

 If you apply these ideas you may, like my daughter Salina and the great poet William Blake, discover (rediscover) that you “hold infinity in the palm of your hand.”

 © L.D. Turner 2009/All Rights Reserved

Thomas Kelly and the Quaker Silence

Mick Turner

As some of you may recall, my upbringing involved more than a little exposure to Quakerism in general and the Evangelical Quaker tradition in particular. I am grateful to have had this exposure and feel that it set the tone for much of my subsequent spiritual search in life. One of the things I learned early on was  the importance of finding ways into Sacred Silence and from that wellspring, drawing deeply from its nourishing and enlightening waters.

 That’s why I feel so irritated when those who label themselves Christian, cast any and all traditions and practices of Christian mysticism, meditation, and contemplation in such a negative light. Especially galling are those who make the obviously uninformed claim that contemplative practice aims at “emptying the mind.” Most of these critics rely on second hand knowledge and, at best, have never taken the time to delve deeply into what the contemplative/meditative tradition in the Christian faith is all about. When I read these sorts of diatribes and fear-based ramblings, I am reminded, more than anything else, of Eliot’s classic poem that talks about “The Hollow Men.”

 From the perspective of traditional Quaker thought, the practice of Christian meditation in no way involves emptying the mind. Instead, it is aimed at positioning ourselves in a receptive state whereby we can have a fresh encounter with our Inner Light. The practice of contemplation is central here, however. Through it we connect with the Holy Spirit at the deepest level by entering in through the Sacred Silence.

 Quaker mystic Thomas Kelly again speaks of the experience of taking the comfort and wisdom we find in the Sacred Silence and carrying it into the cauldron of daily living. Listen carefully to his words:

 …and in brief intervals of overpowering visitation we are able to carry the sanctuary frame of mind out into the world, into its turmoil and fitfulness, and in a hyperaesthesia of the soul, we shall see all mankind tinged with deeper shadows, and touched with Galilean glories. Powerfully are the springs of our will moved to an abandon of singing love toward God; powerfully are we moved to a new and overcoming love toward time-blinded men and all creation. In this Center of Creation all things are ours, and we are Christ’s and Christ is God’s. We are owned men, ready to run and not be weary and to walk and not faint.

 Notice here how in very potent language Kelly alludes to Christ’s great prayer in John 17. Jesus prayed that we be his, just as he is God’s. When, through the grace of God, the work of the Holy Spirit, and our own diligent practice of entering into the Sacred Silence, we become more and more capable of abiding in our inner sanctuary we make manifest that chain of possession spoken of by Christ. Kelly tells a poignant truth when he says “we are owned men.”

 In another relevant passage Kelly states:

 Continuously renewed immediacy, not receding memory of the Divine Touch, lies at the base of religious living. Let us explore together the secret of a deeper devotion, a more subterranean sanctuary of the soul, where the Light Within never fades, but burns, a perpetual flame, where the wells of living water of divine revelation rise up continuously, day by day and hour by hour, steady and transfiguring.

 Kelly’s teaching here is most profound. Beginning with the reality that only regular, repetitive practice of Sacred Silence can give us “renewed immediacy of the Divine Touch.” Unless we are diligent and consistent in our pursuit of this sacred sanctuary and its inherent blessings, we run the risk of letting the experience of the Divine become little more than a quickly fading memory.

 Kelly then goes on to reiterate the fact that it is in this Sacred Silence where we find not only the Inner Light, but also those ever-flowing wells of living water Christ spoke of. Further, he reminds us that these waters are more than refreshing, although they are certainly that, but also emphasizes that these wellsprings are “transfiguring.” These blessed streams are capable of changing us at our core. These waters of healing and transformation have their source in God’s unlimited gift of grace.

 I would encourage anyone interested in what we might now call “engaged mysticism” to read Kelly’s works, particular his famous A Testament of Devotion. It is perhaps more timely now than it was back in the day it was written.

 © L.D. Turner 2009/ All Rights Reserved

Wise Words for Today

There are three ways to committing suicide – taking my own life, letting myself die, and letting myself live without hope. This last form of self destruction is so subtle that it often goes unrecognized  and therefore unchallenged. Ordinarily it takes the form of boredom, monotony, drudgery, feeling overcome by the ordinariness of life…..We begin by admitting in the inner sanctum of our hearts that the Christian calling is too demanding, that life in Christ Jesus is too sublime. We settle into a well-worn groove and lose the stuff of Gospel greatness. We become like everyone else, fail ourselves and our community by failing to respond to the living, vibrant, magnificent image of Christ that is within  us waiting only to be expressed.

Brennan Manning

(from The Lion and the Lamb)

Positive Prayer

As I sat in church not too long ago, I was given a bit of a slap in the face by the Holy Spirit – not a harsh, critical, punch in the jaw – but instead, a gentle reminder that our Christian inability, mine included, to forget what he has already accomplished for us and what he has already promised us, has permeated our beings so deeply that we have little mindfulness of it.

 

Near the beginning of the service, the worship leader led the congregation in prayer. By “led in prayer” I mean he prayed and we all stood silently until it was our turn to say “Amen.”

“Lord, we beseech thee to come into this house and be with us this, your Holy Day. And dearest father in heaven, we humbly requesteth that, by your grace and love, that you cometh down here into this structure of brick and mortar and, with your beloved presence on every pew in this house, be with us in ways both great and small. Further, dear father, true God, through the infinite grace of thy throne, be pray that you granteth……..zzzzzzzzz.”

 

No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to joke about such a serious matter. My point here, as brought to my attention by the Holy Spirit, is simply this: scripture tells us time after time that the Lord is with us. The Master assures us that he is with us always, even unto the end of the age. He tells us that wherever two or more are gathered in his name, he is there with us. The gift of the Master’s presence is not something we ever have to worry about. It is a promise made to us by God and sealed in our hearts by the Holy Spirit. There is no need for us to use our prayer time, either corporate or private, blathering on in King James English begging God to come and be with us. Unless he is a liar, he is already here. End of discussion. Instead, why don’t we pray as Andrew Wommack suggests:

 

Father, your Word promises that You’ll never leave us not forsake us, and when two are three gather together in Your name, there is a special presence of the Holy Spirit. Father, we thank You you’re here. We believe it and we want it manifest. We don’t want you to just be here in the spirit realm, We desire to yield to You to the point that You can manifest Yourself in healings, deliverance, joy, peace, salvation, and Holy Spirit baptism. We want You to be free to manifest Yourself and do what You want to do.

 

In this type of prayer are we badgering God? No. In this type of prayer are we asking God to be our cosmic bellhop – sort of a dance-about heavenly step-and-fetch-it? No. In this type of prayer are we making unreasonable demands upon God? No, of course not.

 

Instead, in this type of prayer we are simply expressing our faith in God to do what he has promised and to be exactly what he has told us he is. God has already provided all these blessing because he said he has. Let us rejoice in this fact and enjoy the wonderful God that we have – a God that has given us all that we need to live lives of holiness and spiritual perfection.

In the Family of the Father of Lights

Mick Turner

As Christians, each of us is an adopted member of God’s holy family. With this divine relationship our identity has shifted from the old to the new and with this new identity comes many countless blessings. One of these great blessings sometimes goes unnoticed, so I want to spend a few minutes bringing it to the forefront – with the hopes of giving it the attention it deserves.

 Scripture refers to God, our Father, as the Father of Lights. Personally, I find this appellation one of the most meaningful of the many names given to God in both scripture and tradition. It stands to reason the God, the Father of Lights, is also called Light. His very nature is Light and scripture and tradition again attest to this. God is light and in him there is not darkness the beloved Apostle tells us. Jesus is also referred to as light. In his own words, he tells us:

 I am the light of the world….

 And here is where the family connection flows in its strongest way. God is indeed the Father of Lights. Jesus, his only begotten, incarnates and is the Light of the World. And guess what my friend? Jesus goes on to give us the same identity by saying, “You are the light of the world.” (Matthew 5:14). We are light bearers for God, pure and simple and if we fail to see this deeply in our hearts and minds, we lose something of immense value. We lose something that is beyond the pale of duplication. We lose our spirit and our light and in a sense, we lose the perception of our true identity.

 In the Prologue to John’s gospel, the Apostle tells us the Jesus, the one true light, came into the world but the world was unable to perceive it. When we lose connection with the Master, we lose connection with our new and true identity as the ongoing incarnation of Light in the world. In essence, we repeat the mistake made by the Lord’s contemporaries. Only in this case, we are the Light of the World, but we perceive it not.

 Our task, then, is to find ways in which we can keep our light burning, not only before others, but before ourselves as well. That way we lessen the risk of forgetting who and what we are as adopted members of the family of God, the Father of Lights.

 What I have discovered over the years is that there are certain practices, certain things that I can do that can make this realty a living, breathing and animating component of my daily living. One such practice is the process of meditation. Here I am specifically referring to the more contemplative forms of meditation, not to be confused with the intensive, thinking, and reflective forms such as lectio, etc. I have found that through disciplined, consistent practice of meditation, I become more open to and aligned with the Spirit’s messages and leading. Even more, through God’s divine revelation I am able to discern more deeply the outworking of the Spirit’s healing.

 As we grow more accustomed to sitting in meditation with a mind that is relaxed but attentive to the movement and message of the Holy Spirit, we become increasingly aware of the many unexpected blessings that fill this seemingly empty chamber. As countless mystics have discovered over the ages, our inner sanctuary is anything but empty. In fact, it is within our sacred sanctuary that we encounter the ground of our being. Agnes Sanford tells us:

 …we realize that God is not some far-away sovereign, but is actually the medium in which we live – the very breath of life. This is so whether we know it or not. But the more we realize it, the more real it becomes to us. For as we tune in our thought-vibrations to the thought-vibrations of God, we expose ourselves as it were, to His eternal shining and so receive Hi image in ourselves.

 Sanford goes on to say that we should begin our prayers not so much focused on our needs, but instead, rivet our attention of God and his sublime nature. We should utilize whatever method makes him most real to us. For example, we might praise God with these potent scriptural words:

 Hallowed be thy name.

 As we recognize our Father, we gain more understanding of who He is, what He is, and what a privilege it is to be adopted into His holy family.

 I will write more on these themes as the near future unfolds. Suffice to say for now that one of the most helpful things we can do for ourselves is to establish a regular pattern of meditation practice. The technique utilized is not nearly as important as the motivation and the desired goal. As for myself, the motivation is to come to know the Spirit on a more intimate level, whereby a positive exchange can take place – his life for mine. The goal is to just be still before the Master – still, and teachable.

 © L.D. Turner 2009/All Rights Reserved

Formation: In His Image

Mick Turner

As I have mentioned on a number of occasions, the increasing interest in the practice of spiritual disciplines, along with a widespread desire for increased understanding of the mystical elements of the Christian faith, are highly positive trends.  Here at LifeBrook we do all that we can to encourage sincere aspirants to make the necessary efforts that will bring about an increased experiential awareness of the contemplative traditions in daily life.

 However, in our pursuit of the mystical and contemplative dimensions of the Christian faith, it is important that we not lose track of the prize we seek.

 It is essential that those of us exploring the mystical elements of the Christian faith keep one fundamental truth before us. The goal of the mystic journey is not simply to have a unitive experience, although such events are fantastic. The objective we seek is not just a deeper daily walk with the Divine, although that also is a highly positive result of the contemplative journey when pursued consistently with a consecrated commitment.

 Our goal, instead, is a transformation of character. Through the practice of contemplative/meditative practices we place ourselves in a more receptive position where Divine Grace can effectively do its work. Through the efforts and agencies of the Holy Spirit, we are transformed increasingly into the image of Christ, the Master to whom we vow our allegiance. We must never lose sight of this goal and, in fact, we benefit when we use this measure to gauge our progress. The question ever before us must be: Am I becoming more like Him?

 I encourage you to go into your inner sanctuary, commune with the Light, and seek clarity on how you might personally answer this question with loving but unrelenting honesty. Especially pray for insight into those areas where you are doing well and in those other areas that still need much transformation. The goal of this “Examen” is not guilt, but guidance. Our honest evaluations of our progress will, with the infinite wisdom of the Holy Spirit, lead us to the changes that still need to be made as we are increasingly formed into His image.

(c) L.D. Turner 2009/All Rights Reserved

Wise Words for Today

Prayer is a real, living power. It is not a vague ideal, a bartering system, or a quick fix to material gain or an easy life. It is the song that enables our souls to blossom and release their magic, an alchemical force by which we can transmute our basic selves into the gold of our higher natures. Prayer, said with a pure heart and motive, is that “energy” called love in its higher octaves. Within us is limitless potential, which most of us only glimpse. Prayer is one of the most powerful keys to unlock this radiant inner power and strength, this Divine Spark within and throughout all life……. Through prayer we can consciously use the universal life forces that flow freely through the universe to bring miracles into our lives and to the world around us.

 Chrissie and Gary Blaze

(from Power Prayer)

The Divine Moment: Epicenter of God’s Activity

Mick Turner

For those of us who dare to call ourselves Christian and really mean it, it is imperative that we understand that this particular path of spiritual endeavor is a risky business. You see, God is full of surprises and the radical Master that we profess to serve is highly unpredictable. If you treasure your comfort zones, it is much better to become a Buddhist. It’s a good deal safer to sit behind cloistered borders and chant a melodic sutra than it is to ask, “Lord, what would you have me do?”

 The Master Jesus is not a friend of the lukewarm. Just ask the rich young ruler or the scores who turned on their heels and headed on down the spiritual pike when they heard Jesus’ more difficult teachings. I know that I, for one, have major trouble making important decisions, especially spiritual ones. And when I do make a significant decision among the choices available, I am quite prone to partake of that ruminating affliction we so casually call the “second guess.”

 The Lord let it be known that he was not especially enamored of this tendency toward Monday morning quarterbacking, saying something about putting your hand to the plow, then looking back. He said those who played this game were not fit for the kingdom. Hard teachings, indeed.

 Erwin Raphael McManus, Christian author and Senior Pastor of Mosaic, an innovative urban congregation in Los Angeles, expresses directly the beneficial consequences making positive decisions for God:

 In your moment of truth what will you choose? Will you choose the wilderness or the adventure? Have you confused the blessing of God with wealth, comfort, and security? Have you considered that God’s greatest gift to you is that He calls you to be a pioneer, explorer, and even a creator? There are things God does for you and things that God waits for you to do. The journey begins when you choose. Stop wasting daylight. Choose a life of meaningful adventure. When you do, you will live in the epicenter of God’s activity.

 What a powerful statement! I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t mind living at the epicenter of God’s activity. We spend so much time and energy seeking that elusive yet indispensable commodity we call “God’s will.” We search here and there, up and down, and round and round and, more often than not, end up more disoriented than when we began. We attend all the right workshops, listen to all the right audio seminars, read all the latest Christian best-sellers, all in an attempt to find God’s will and purpose for our lives. Yet if we lived at the epicenter of God’s activity, our problem would be solved.

 The location of the epicenter of God’s activity is the subject of much debate and this is to be expected. Keep in mind that we are not dealing with a being strapped with human limitation here. We’re dealing with the fundamental, indescribable power that put this incredible, awe-inspiring Creation together. And he did it out of nothing. The point here is that God can do whatever he wants, which seems to be a point lost on some believers these days. Further, he can do what he wants where he wants. In practical terms, this means he can have his activity’s epicenter in more than one place at a time.

 The result is that well-meaning but highly myopic people tend to locate the center of where God is moving in places familiar and closely related to their own pet projects. The reality is, however, God may be off doing something else totally unexpected and scratching his head with wonder as he thinks, “Can’t you see that I am doing something new?” [Psalm 43:19]

 McManus makes the cogent point that the reality of God’s will can only be found in the present moment; “divine moments” he calls them. I could not agree more with what he says and experience, both my own and those of countless clients over the years, bears this out time and time again. The past is already a done deal and the future, at the very best, is but a fleeing fantasy. Reality is happening right now, under our noses, and it is happening nowhere else. Once you get that, and I mean really get it, you are well on your way to a most rewarding life, regardless of external circumstance.

 As a brief sidebar, I also want to mention that a big part of finding our place in God’s scheme of things involves becoming the optimal version of ourselves and the context in which we accomplish that is also in the divine moment. McManus also speaks to this issue:

 Earth’s unlimited resource is the gifts, talent, passions, imagination, and ingenuity of its citizens. You would think that we know this by now, but we often seem to miss the gift right in front of us. The world needs you to find the hero within you. The real battle is not between good and evil but between less and more. Most of us don’t choose the worst life; we just don’t choose the best. We can’t afford for you to sleep through your dreams…..The world needs you at your best. This planet is made better or worse by the people we choose to become. If you live a diminished life, its not only you who loses, but the world loses, and humanity loses. There is a story to be written by your life, and thought it may never inspire a graphic novel, it is a heroic tale nonetheless. Though you may not recognize it, there is a greatness within you.

 I love these words by McManus. They reverberate through the inner fiber of my being, ringing loudly with both truth and relevance. I know that many times I forget that there is a God-planted greatness within me and within others. Fortunately, God has found ways to keep me focused enough to have at least have one eye on the potential he placed within me.

 Developing the ability to discern where and how God is moving requires more than merely taking time out for rest and relaxation. It takes a more radical and comprehensive reorientation of our approach to life in general and focus in particular. If you are to become more sensitive to what God is doing and where he is doing it, you need to become intimately acquainted with a practice that we in this fast-paced, multi-tasking world are not good at. In order to discover the movements of God in the context of the “divine moment,” you have to become more mindful.

 Mindfulness is not stressed so much in our culture and it is stressed even less in our churches. This is unfortunate because no matter how much the post-modern world sings the virtues of multi-tasking this and multi-tasking that, the ability to fully focus on one thing and one time, to the exclusion of any distraction, is a highly useful skill. Our corporate world, in spite of its alleged genius, has yet to discover that mindful people are far more productive than multi-taskers. Their efficiency alone makes them more of an asset.

 Even more relevant from a spiritual perspective, if we are going to find God’s will we are going to have to seek the epicenter of his activity. As we have seen, that sublime activity is going to be found in its purest, most pristine and discernable form in the present moment – the divine moment. It will be found here and nowhere else. As we have also seen, in order to discover this epicenter and God’s will, we may, indeed, have to reorient our perspective on several key issues. With certainty, we have to become more mindful.

 More later…..

  © L. D. Turner 2009/All Rights Reserved

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