Sheer Gift or Partial Gift?
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by Cathie Powell
"If you really see contemplation as 'partial gift,' just call it that-and let it be." Jerry's words were startling. I was caught off guard for a moment. I had used the phrase "sheer gift," believing that it was truly my frame of reference. But obviously (through this e-mail conversation) he was seeing something in my comments that I was not. I didn't write back right away-no need to defend-just let it sink in. I now mark that conversation as another turn on this wild ride, this adventure with God.
What is contemplation for you? We know it is a gift, but is it sheer gift as Jerry May, former Shalem Senior Fellow, so often said? Is there really nothing we do? Don't we contribute something-in some small way-toward that incredible experience of God?
Let me ask the question another way: If you want to connect more deeply with God, what do you do-or not do? Do you sit quietly, back straight, eyes closed? Do you pay attention to your breath, let your body help your mind slow down, with your hands relaxed and open in your lap? Then what? What does God do?
That was the issue I was unwittingly presenting to Jerry, not realizing the subtleties going on in me. I do this, then God does that...as if what I was doing somehow was a prompt, or even a cue, for God.
Our email conversation began after five days of "Gathered Silence," a Shalem retreat entitled "Letting God Guide," co-led by Jerry and Bill Dietrich. I had read Jerry's book, The Dark Night of the Soul, and was intrigued with how he categorized ways of praying: active, passive, mental, quiet, meditation, contemplation. I even made a chart in the back of the book, trying to grasp it all. So I asked him if what we were doing in our Gathered Silence was active recollection or meditation. And if you knew Jerry, you may already know his reply: "It was Gathered Silence."
His response brought a wry grimace to my face but didn't slow me down. I wanted more clarity. What is God's part? What is my part? I pressed on. After several more attempts on his part to clarify and on my part to understand, I began to hear some encouragement that I was seeing the difference between partial gift and sheer gift.
I hope he knew the significance of his patient dialogue with me that day as he waited for me. Not that I am fully free of the notion that something I do causes God to do something, but at least now I recognize it as untrue when I see it and am able to be patient with directees who get going down that "it's all about me" path.
If you understand contemplation as "sheer gift," please forgive this stating of the obvious, but it seems important to say it, just because I thought I knew and really didn't. What we do contributes nothing-absolutely nothing. It's not about us, it's about God.
I am not sure who gave me this helpful illustration, maybe Jerry, but I invite you to picture a house with bright sunlight shining down on it. Inside, the heavy drapes are closed, and the house is dark. Hear the person inside the house say, "I think I'll open the curtains so the sun will shine." That comment is similar to saying, "I think I'll sit quietly so that God will come." Partial gift is a good description of this mindset.
And, though God is consistent in character, God is also unpredictable in action and surprises us even when we are less still, less aware, less open. God shows up in a myriad of ways-from evening skies to the touch of a baby's skin, from the smell just after a rain to the sound of a drone. Experiencing God in contemplation is sheer gift as is encountering God anywhere, anytime. All sheer gift.
So why do we sit quietly, with the intention of becoming more still within and without? Only so that we can become less distracted and more available to this One who knows us and loves us beyond measure.
I have learned many other lessons from this skin-horse of a man, but we'll save those for another time. For now, since his words continue to say it so well, I'll close with some from The Dark Night of the Soul:
"In place of the striving, one finds a growing willingness, an increasing receptivity in the sense of welcoming with open arms. This is nowhere so obvious as in prayer, as the work of meditation eases and the flowing openness of contemplation takes its place...
In the context of prayer, contemplation always has a sacred quality as a sheer gift of grace.... With every step from meditation into contemplation, one finds oneself standing on truly sacred ground."
Cathie is a graduate of Shalem's Spiritual Guidance Program, Class of Winter 1995, and a minister of spiritual direction at The Anchorage in Greenville, SC.