Contemplation In The City, April 2024
Our next contemplative service is Tuesday, April 23rd. Doors open at 6pm for coffee and casual conversation; contemplation begins at 7pm. Details on this service and other contemplative opportunities are in our Upcoming Gatherings section at the end of this newsletter.
‘Tis Better To Receive
I’m a doer. A helper. A 2 on the Enneagram (except when I’m an 8 or a 1…when I took the test I tied for all three; but that’s another post). I move with purpose. I plan. My general vibe is get-er-done, as we say in Texas. I delight in making my daily to-do list. The only thing better than making it is striking things off it. I am so in thrall to that list my son once said he was going to have it engraved on my tombstone when I die.
In case you’re curious, here’s today’s list.
A couple things to note:
a. Meditate is on the list, between laundry and call Aunt Karen (which appears twice), not because I’ll forget to do it otherwise. I won’t. It’s just put it on so I can get that hit of dopamine from crossing it off.
b. There is more here than I can do today. I always do this. Even though I start my list fresh each morning, I will still pack it with more than I can do.
A Jungian psychologist once told me that compulsive list-making is related to an anxiety about having to justify your existence. I don’t know if that’s what it is for me. Maybe. In any case, knowing I’m a doer, a goer and a getter, I perked up the other day during my morning reading time when I seemed to be receiving a message about, well, receiving.
This is how it went:
I was reading the Gospel of Mark and passed by this nugget of wisdom from Jesus: I tell you, whoever does not receive the Kingdom of God like a little child certainly may not enter into it.
Having read this passage a million times, I breezed right over it without a thought. But then about ten minutes later I was into The Ladder Of Monks, the 12th century text by Guigo II who describes the contemplative practice of Lectio Divina:
The spouse bestows when he pleases and to whom he pleases; [contemplative consolation] is not possessed as though by lawful title.
In other words, Guigo’s saying that the fruits and gifts of contemplation are something we receive, not something we do or achieve by our own efforts. (And note the nuptial language, common to the Middle Ages, where God or Jesus are portrayed as a spouse or bridegroom).
Then, finally, just before going into Centering Prayer, I read Chapter 15 of the Tao Te Ching in which Lao Tzu describes the attributes of the ancient Masters:
They were careful as someone crossing an iced-over stream. Alert as a warrior in enemy territory. Courteous as a guest. Fluid as melting ice. Shapable as a block of wood. Receptive as a valley. Clear as a glass of water.
Did you get that? Receptive as a valley.
So, in less than twenty minutes, in three sacred texts, I was given messages about receiving. Obviously, God was trying to tell me something.
This then put me in mind of that time Jesus went to visit sisters Mary and Martha. This is the one where Martha busies herself making things nice for Jesus while Mary just takes a load off and hangs out. Then, when Martha gets annoyed at her sister’s slacking, she complains to Jesus. But rather than give Mary the what-for, Jesus tells Martha it’s her sister who has chosen better.
That hurts. I’m definitely Martha in this story. If Jesus showed up at my house, I too would be rushing around to make sure his glass was full and he had something to eat. That’s not bad! No matter how many preachers I’ve heard try and give this story a tidy, dualistic moral, I refuse to judge Martha (or the Martha Stewart in me) for being hospitable. I mean, that bowl of Milk Duds on the table in the picture below did not appear out of thin air. Martha put it out.
To be fair, Jesus isn’t making Martha wrong. He’s just gently showing her that, given their limited time with him, Mary has made the wiser choice by sitting still and receiving his living bread rather than scurrying around baking his actual bread. You can’t really argue with that.
Jesus here points us to the contemplative way of life of which he was a Master. That life is all about receiving and not doing. But acknowledging that, and letting it work on us, is a huge paradigm shift for we modern folks. We go about our days doing, doing, doing; our culture is built around doing; and if we’re not doing we get anxious that we should be doing. We are positively soaking in doing. And we bring that mindset with us right into meditation.
But if there is any goal of meditation and prayer, it is to let go of that achieving mindset which never offers rest or peace. It is to awaken us to the fact that every moment is a God given-gift, every second of our lives—every breath and heartbeat—is an act of self-donating love by God giving Godself away.
And what do you do when offered such a stupendous gift? There’s nothing to do but open your hands, receive it with wonder and awe, and give thanks.
I think this is why those who are the most open and vulnerable—the children in Jesus’s Mark story, the sick and dying, those at the end of their rope, Jesus in the garden at Gethsemane—are our best contemplative models. They show us that when there is nothing left to do, all that’s left is to receive.
The gift of contemplation is that we don’t have to wait until we are dying or at the end of our rope to experience this grace. If we’re open to it, if we commit to practices that tear down our barriers to connecting in this way, if we can shift our hearts and minds to see that we receive in every moment, then now and then, for a fleeting moment, we are given a foretaste of heaven.
Pair the above reflection on receiving with a quote and a practice:
First, the quote, from the late Henri Nouwen who is one of my most trusted spiritual guides:
Each day holds a surprise. But only if we expect it can we see, hear, or feel it when it comes to us. Let's not be afraid to receive each day's surprise, whether it comes to us as sorrow or as joy It will open a new place in our hearts, a place where we can welcome new friends and celebrate more fully our shared humanity.
Then, a practice inspired by Julian of Norwich, from our 2022 series The Heart Moves Toward Light: Advent With The Mystics, Saints And Prophets.
After Julian’s near-death experience she cultivated a life of spiritual receiving—an awakened sense of being connected to the web of creation and a beneficiary of grace and love in every moment.
The idea of Receiving grace in every moment is difficult for us modern folks who pride ourselves on Doing. But our spiritual lives deepen when we begin to appreciate that the greater portion of our Doing is only possible through the grace of Receiving.
To use an everyday example all of us can relate to, we Do by shopping for groceries with a focused consumer mindset—I’m here at the store to buy ketchup with the money I’ve earned to put on the burger I will make later because a burger is what I want for dinner.
We Receive when we are mindful of the fact that our transaction is a participation, a late stage in a process that involves planting, growing, harvesting, packaging, shipping, and stocking shelves, all of which require untold numbers of people we will never know, not to mention the gifts of water, air, sun and soil. Building this mindfulness into our daily actions leads to greater gratitude and a sense of connection.
As you move through today, pick an errand, action or interaction where you can practice a Receiving mindset. Try and replace I need to go here/do this/be that Thinking with I’m gifted/facilitated/privileged with the ability to go here/do this/be that Awareness. You can actually start as soon as you take your next inhalation, mindful of the miracle of muscles, organs and brain working together to gift you the ability of breath. The key to this is presence. You probably know by now that cultivating presence can be tough. But the more you practice this kind of mindfulness, the more naturally it will come.
Upcoming Gatherings
All contemplative services are at Life In The City. Doors open at 6pm for coffee and conversation, contemplation begins at 7pm. Upcoming gatherings are:
May 14th June 25th August 20th September 17th
Metanoia Journey also has wonderful Sunday morning gathering for Centering Prayer and Lectio Divina. These meet-ups are on Zoom except for the first Sunday of the month when they meet in person at the Seminary of the Southwest. Details on their site.
Finally, many of us also attend Life In The City each Sunday at 11:15 a.m. We are a creative, energetic and engaged community whose aim is to foster the health and wholeness of mind, body and spirit. If you are looking for a spiritual home, come on by. We’d love to see you. If you have questions about Contemplation In The City, Life In The City or Centering Prayer, please contact Greg Durham at greg@litcaustin.org.
Contemplative Resources
Our series The Heart Moves Toward Light: Advent With The Mystics, Saints and Prophets is now available year-round. Though released during Advent, and exploring that season’s themes, it makes for a great spiritual companion any time of year.
At Contemplation In The City we use a variety of contemplative practices, but our core practice is Centering Prayer. If you’d like to explore Centering Prayer prior to attending a gathering, here are a few links to get you started.
Getting Started (from Contemplative Outreach)
How To Practice Centering Prayer (from Notre Dame)
Introduction To Guidelines (from Thomas Keating)
About Contemplation In The City
We are a group of Austin-based spiritual adventurers who gather at Life In The City, located at 205 East Monroe Street, just off South Congress. Though rooted in the Christian contemplative tradition, we see portals to the sacred wherever wisdom, truth and beauty reveal themselves, including in other religions, nature, science, art and poetry. Our hope is that those who join our services will feel at home whether they are from our tradition, another one, or no tradition at all.