Volume 28, No. 1-Winter, 2004
Table of Contents
Celebrating Peace Through Chant
by Isabella Bates
Romancing the Word
by Ann Kline
Simple Contemplative Presence
by Gerald May
"I Thank My God"
by Rose Mary Dougherty
Guidance
by Carole Crumley
A New Day
by Ann Kline
The "Secret Word:" Finding Companions Along the Way
by Joan Maxwell
Celebrating Peace Through Chant
by Isabella Bates
I grew up with no formal religious training as my parents were atheists. They did, however, offer me piano lessons, and I was fortunate to go to schools with excellent musical opportunities. I was always happy when I was involved with music. I became a voice major in college and imagined a career of performing. After our first child died of heart failure at four months old, my husband and I decided to attend St. Stephen and the Incarnation Church to seek healing in our time of grief. Within six weeks of starting church, I was asked by the rector if I would help lead the music for the summer. I told him he was crazy as I knew nothing about church music. He told me that when I sang it helped people pray. Since I wanted to explore prayer, I took up his offer, and this began a rich seven-year training in the liturgy of the Episcopal Church.
In the spring of 1975, Carole Crumley, then a seminarian at St. Stephen's, told me that when she came to voice lessons with me I was talking about the same things as when she went to her meditation class at Shalem. Again I was mystified and decided to enroll in an 18-week introductory group to see if I could find this common thread for myself.
During that first year of exploration, most of the time I was lost in tension in my body and a wildly distracted mind. But each time we began to chant, I felt as if I had come home. The slow, simple tones and phrases gave me a chance to savor the deep joy and peace that came coursing through my body on the waves of vibration from the gathered voice of the whole group sounding together. I felt that I was being led towards the source out of which all music sprang and that it was possible for each of us to know that source deeply. I began to see that I had always been singing from that source and that it was my way of communion with all that is Holy.
I have had the great good fortune to be able to build a career upon those leadings. For 22 years, I was on the associate staff at Shalem and now I am on staff at the Center for Integrative Medicine where I am helping bring spirituality and meditation into the medical model.
As our country moved towards war in Iraq last year, I was feeling such despair that as a culture and as a country we seem to have such an attachment to violent solutions to our problems. In my prayer time one day, it came to me that the way to celebrate my 60th birthday was to gather women in the wonderful sound space of St. Joseph's Chapel at the Washington National Cathedral to chant for peace. I began to dedicate my quiet time to singing the inward peace that was in my body, and over many months, peace chants took form.
On April 26, 2003, 58 women gathered in St. Joseph's Chapel, and we learned, then recorded eight chants. The melodies that had come forth were simple, and when I invited the women there to harmonize them, the most amazing harmonies emerged. I learned again that day that each of us needs only offer a small drop of what is called for, but when we really begin to trust the ocean of love in which we all swim, it will show us how to dissolve our sense of separateness and give freely. It is not only sufficient but mighty. Now these chants have been made into a CD, Sound Faith III. I hope that this recording will go forth to proclaim that peace is among us and we can drink deeply from its source to learn how to become peacemakers each in our own way.
Sound Faith III CDs are available from the Shalem office.
Romancing the Word
by Ann Kline
"For the foolishness of God is wiser than men...." -1 Corinthians 1:25
Go figure. When I joined the Shalem staff, I had one prayer: unity of purpose. My life had become so fragmented, or so it felt, with so many projects, directions, and possibilities calling my attention. I wanted to simplify my life into one direction. As Martin Buber said, I wanted my life to feel like work that was "all of one piece." I yearned for unity of soul. Focusing my effort and attention primarily on work for Shalem seemed key to that unity. It was so clear. Then I got The Phone Call.
I'm not sure why God likes the telephone, but that is often the medium that ushers in my most significant events. This time the call was from a publisher. For background, several months earlier, a publisher had accepted a romance novel I had written-and submitted-many years before. It had required nothing on my part, not even revisions, and there had been no reason not to accept the unexpected gift. It had not distracted me from my Purpose. This time was different. The publisher wanted to buy more of my writing; a partial manuscript that would require some significant additional work, and a third book, not yet even conceived.
To put this in context, for years the deepest desire of my heart had been to be a writer. That hope had eventually focused on publishing romance novels. They were fun to write; good-humored, big-hearted stories. I thought they would be my best chance for getting published. Night after night, month after month, I had sat at my computer with the hope that one day I would see someone reading my book on the Metro.
Then life intervened. I started to meditate, to pray, to see people in direction, to do work for Shalem. Gradually the desire of my heart began to take a new shape. Did I miss the writing? Sometimes. But my life was so full, and God was constantly opening up something new for me. Other facets of my heart were polished.
Now that my life seemed to be falling into a lovely, challenging, unified whole, why this? Was this the Devil tempting me away from my Purpose, leading me back into dissipated effort? Or God tempting me toward some unperceived good?
Here indeed was an opportunity for discernment. Where was God in this, other than laughing loudly at such a clever twist to my story. How could I say no, my husband said. It's the opportunity of a lifetime, my writing partner said. How could I say yes when my life is so full, I said.
I prayed. I spoke to God, out loud. I poured it all out. I asked for nothing but that God listen. I told God the pros and cons, my fears that this was a test of my commitment, but to what I was not sure. What did God want of me? What would lead to that unity of soul I so yearned for? Then I went to bed.
In the morning I awoke singing. I can't remember ever waking up so happy. I didn't have an answer for the publisher yet, but I did have an answer to my prayer. Freedom. I did not have to choose one or the other. I could walk away from this opportun-ity without regret. I really did not need to see my name on any books in the Metro. I could also accept the offer and somehow make it work. Only I could determine whether the book was a distraction from my deepest heart or something that would open new channels of love and life in me. God's answer to my prayer was the awesome, and sometimes awful, gift of freedom.
I learned something about discernment; God's will for me. It is not about the "right" choice. It is about the true choice, a choice that honors what I sense truest about myself, affirming and connecting me to all life in the process. "One should not look to heaven before one looks into oneself," the Kotzker rebbe said. What did I really want? It is by loving what I love that I find God's will for me.
In the end, I turned down the third book and accepted the opportun-ity to finish the book I had started so many years ago (maybe I will see it read on the Metro). I do not know how I am going to do it, but I am not concerned (or I am in denial). I could list so many reasons why it seems right, and so many more why it makes no sense. This could be terribly wrong-headed; there are no guarantees. My decision, however, was made when I heard myself tell my writing partner how the writing, spiritual direction, working at Shalem were all part of the same thing for me. Buddha said, "your work is to discover your life and with all your heart to give yourself to it." Here was my life, including the writing, and God was at the center of it all.
God wants our hearts, the rebbes say. I'm just surprised mine comes wrapped in a romance novel.
Ann's novel, The Ride to Dinah's Wedding, will be available February 2004.
Simple Contemplative Presence
by Gerald May
Due to illness, Jerry was not able to be at Shalem's Winter Retreat this December. He wrote the following as a letter to retreat participants, and we wanted to share it with our readers.
Dear Winter Retreat People,
I'm so sorry that it looks like I can't join you this year. I'd really been looking forward to it, but my heart problems refused to cooperate. You can be assured, though, that I will be sitting and being with you in "Simple Contemplative Presence" during these days. A hospital isn't too bad a place for such a practice!
These past few weeks, during which my medical condition has been extremely erratic, seem to have taught me a few things about life. I would like to share one that I think has special relevance to "simple contemplative presence."
We at Shalem approach the spiritual life from what we call a contemplative perspective. Sometimes we call it contemplative life or living. It doesn't have to do with any particular state of mind or experience (like "contemplation"). Instead, it's an attitude or orientation that recognizes that our spiritual growth and deepening is God's business, not our own achievement or accomplishment. Our "yes" to God, our willingness for God's grace, is very important, but we don't "do" it on our own. At best we willingly join God's dance with us--without knowing the steps!
So there's a reverence for God's mystery in this kind of presence, a willingness to let God be God as God is, and to let ourselves be ourselves as we are. In that sense, it is a very easy, relaxed practice. The only time it becomes difficult is when we think we should be doing something more--then it is simply time to trust back into God's presence in the moment again.
The thing I want to share about this is that I've found it doesn't matter what particular kind of experience I'm having. With the changes in my physical situation, I've noticed that sometimes my consciousness in prayer (or just in being) is very dull, groggy, and at the edge of sleep. I always judged this as not being too good a state for prayer and would try to wake up (usually without success). Now sometimes I also experience the opposite: bright, clear, present awareness that seems sharp and open to the moment. I judged this as good (don't ask me why). But what I've learned in these past few weeks is it doesn't matter a bit. Maybe I like one way of being more than another, and that's fine, but it doesn't make one better and one worse. God seems to tell me that what is is more than sufficient, and I really don't need to judge it at all.
Maybe you will experience something of the same kind of freedom in your simple presence. But whatever you experience I hope you'll remember that it is God's work and in fact it is God's experience.
In truth, I think this spiritual life is ALL about God; God's "doing" it with us and in us and as us, and eventually it's all one thing, all God. Which, to my mind, is very, very cool.
God bless you,
Jerry
"I Thank My God"
by Rose Mary Dougherty
I thank my God whenever I think of -
- Mother Theresa Gerhardinger, foundress of my religious congregation, The School Sisters of Notre Dame, who called us to "join the prayer of Jesus that all be one, wherever you are sent." (Today I think she would say "Join the prayer of Jesus that all live in the awareness that they are one,... .") I have sensed her guidance in my coming to Shalem and remaining here these many years. Here at Shalem I have experienced in so many different settings the reality of this oneness as we have sought to move below the surface of our differences to the shared desire for God that joins us all;
- my religious community that has commissioned me to my work at Shalem through these many years and supported me with its prayer;
- my family who often haven't understood what I'm up to or where I'm off to, but have loved me and been there for me through it all;
- teachers and spiritual directors who have held my feet to the fire of love because they knew that's what I wanted;
- friends who've held me tenderly through good times and bad, who still continue to be my friends even when they don't see much of me;
- the many program participants who have drawn me into their prayer and have challenged me by their willingness for God;
- Shalem staff, past, and especially present with whom I have laughed and cried and argued and dialogued, but most importantly with whom I have prayed and tended the mission of Shalem;
- and all those who support me now through good wishes and prayer as I move into this time of transition.
After 25 years on the Shalem staff, Rose Mary retired at the end of December. She was given the new title "Senior Fellow for Spiritual Guidance" and will hopefully stay connected with Shalem in many new ways.
Guidance
by Carole Crumley
"Give them guidance .... Jah Jah guidance."
When I was visiting the Taize community in France last spring, a young man told me he had come there because he noticed that the Taize chants were repeating themselves in his mind and heart during the day and into his sleep at night. His spiritual practice had for years been a mindfulness meditation in the Buddhist tradition but he wanted to know more about this community of prayer because their songs were becoming his way of praying.
I'm also paying attention to the songs that take up residence in my heart. They often give me clues to the prayer that God is praying in me and to my own prayer that is seeking to rise in my awareness.
At a recent family wedding held in a one-hundred-year-old Methodist church on the banks of the Holstein River in Tennessee, the music featured two Appalachian Reggae singers. Their songs brought together two worlds-- the beat of reggae music and the pleading/yearning words of mountain soul singing--an unusual but wonderfully compatible combination. The nuptial song was "Guidance." "Everyone needs guidance," the singers declared, and when a brother or sister, a mama or papa or when the children come seeking guidance, "give them guidance." The message, carried along by reggae rhythms, brought smiles, toe-tapping and nods of agreement from those gathered.
Since then, I've noticed that both the reggae beat and the words of this song continue to resonate in my heart. Guidance--give me guidance, give them guidance, I find myself singing/praying throughout the day. Everyone--not just newlyweds--needs guidance. I'm thinking of nieces and nephews seeking jobs in a depressed economy, friends whose newborn baby faces difficult medical challenges, Rose Mary as she moves through a season of transition, Jerry struggling with health concerns. Guidance, I pray, give them guidance.
As the circle of my praying expands, I remember political leaders crafting public policy, world leaders shaping global communities, medical professionals seeking to understand diseases that confound them. Guidance, I pray, give them guidance. As my heart turns to Shalem, my prayer for guidance deepens. Give me, give us guidance.
It is a very humble prayer reminding me of all that I don't know. I don't know the right direction or the right actions or even the right words. Life is complicated, complex. The way isn't clear. The prayer for guidance strengthens both my sense of dependency on God and my deep respect for not-knowing.
Yet, it also reminds me of what I deeply do know-- that there is guidance. God is present and active everywhere, always willing and wanting to guide our steps. This knowing invites me to trust that God is guiding even when I cannot see where or understand what is happening. As I am present in this moment, not wandering in the distant past, or worrying about the future, God's guidance is present.
The great contemplatives speak of God's guiding presence that is known most exquisitely in the darkest times. Spiritual directors encourage us to listen for holy guidance that reveals itself in daily experiences and companion us in prayer as we do that. Wisdom figures call us to trust what our hearts deeply know. This season, a song is helping me live into this vibrant truth. With a reggae beat, God guides me towards an ever-deepening love.
Note: Taize is an ecumenical community in the south of France dedicated to a ministry of reconciliation with young adults and known especially for its chants and worship music.
A New Day
by Ann Kline
You are the hands,
opening, extending,
and I'm just a cover, like a glove,
in the dark waiting to be filled.
Every morning You come again
with Your thick strong grip,
a tug of connection, and I wake
to the rough void of what You have yet to reach.
How tender Your palm is, how familiar
the calluses that wear me smooth;
a tickle of mystery beyond the edges of my skin.
You are the hands.
Pick me up.
Put me on.
Let's play in the dirt and dig deep;
let's see what waits, so tenaciously,
to be rooted today in love.
Let's pick up a tool--
a longing, a loss--and begin.
The "Secret Word:" Finding Companions Along the Way
by Joan Maxwell
Thomas Kelly in A Testament of Devotion writes about "the blessed community," that wondrous new "Fellowship" we discover when we are "drowned in the overwhelming seas of the love of God." He talks about "men and women whom we now know to the depths... for we discern that their lives are already down within that Center which has found us. And we hunger for their fellowship, with a profound, insistent craving which will not be denied." But how to find them?
When I first encountered the love of God in contemplative prayer, I was overwhelmed. I was a member of a tiny prayer group, which met for an hour once a week. For months I kept silent about my experiences, not talking about them with anyone. After a while, in carefully planned and studiously brief comments, I mentioned to a few members of my family that I had undertaken a daily prayer practice, and that it was important to me. They had noticed changes in me so they knew something was up. One at a time, they took me aside and asked me to explain what on earth was happening. I was almost unable to respond; I literally stuttered and couldn't say much of anything.
After a while, when I was able to stand back a little from the experience, I was eager to share my joy with others. But I quickly learned that most people have never heard of contemplative prayer. When I tried to share I found most people were at best uninterested and many were wary, or even hostile. Something which was sacred to me seemed almost soiled by casual discussion, and I stopped talking about it except when I knew I was with like-minded people.
But how do you know when you're with a like-minded person? Over the years I've developed a sense that is often reliable, but not always. When I'm in a secular setting with people whom I've never met before, I sometimes try to slip a word or two into the conversation and watch their reaction. The word varies, depending on the circumstance, but it could be quiet, or silence, or still. It could be a name, like Merton, or Keating...or Shalem.
I learned this from a woman whom I'd never met before. We were at a dinner party together and after the party she asked me to meet with her. As soon as we did so she started talking eagerly about prayer. At the end of our visit I asked her how she had known prayer was important to me. "Oh, Joan," she smiled, "when we were at that party last week I mentioned that I meditated. And when I did, everyone else at the table crossed their arms and sat back...but you leaned forward. It was easy to tell!"
For my new friend, the "secret word" that brought us together was meditation. But what really brought us together was her deep inner hunger for the Holy One, which helped her see that my leaning forward showed I shared her hunger. She was watchful, and she saw. In her seeing, my eyes were opened.
Sometimes the life of prayer can seem like a lonely journey; for me, it was and is wonderful to find compan-ions along the way. As Kelly puts it, "...a 'chance' conversation comes, and in a few moments we know that we have found and have been found by another member of the Blessed Community." Thanks be to God.
Joan is a Shalem board member and graduate of Shalem's Leading Contemplative Prayer Groups & Retreats Program.