A Continual Exercise of Love

Brother Lawrence tells us that he spent a lot of time trying to be dutiful and follow the prayer methods that everyone else seemed to be using before he finally settled on his own simple way of praying.  W/hen I read the quote below, it’s hard not to be reminded of Centering Prayer, and of the carefully delineated method laid out in The Cloud of Unknowing.  I doubt that this was a method Brother Lawrence was taught – he speaks more often of rites of abstinence and mortification as the standard practice of his place and time.  But even if he was taught some form of Centering Prayer, I can’t imagine him actually sticking to it for very long.  His method was much more direct, and, more importantly, it was all his own.  As a person who often teaching methods of prayer, it’s important for me to remember that the best kind of prayer is the one that is suited to the person who is praying.  And sometimes, as in Brother Lawrence’s case, its a communion with God that is so direct that it can hardly be called a method at all.

He said that useless thoughts spoil all – that the mischief began there. We ought to reject them as soon as we perceived their impertinence and return to our communion with God. In the beginning he had often passed his time appointed for prayer in rejecting wandering thoughts and falling right back into them. He could never regulate his devotion by certain methods as some do. Nevertheless, at first he had meditated for some time, but afterwards that went off in a manner that he could give no account of. Brother Lawrence emphasized that all bodily mortifications and other exercises are useless unless they serve to arrive at the union with God by love. He had well considered this. He found that the shortest way to go straight to God was by a continual exercise of love and doing all things for God’s sake.

Greatest Simplicity

Brother Lawrence was both very humble and very trusting.  The intimacy he had with God left him in no doubt that God would provide for him, even if what God offered in the moment was a series of trials or, even, a good death.  We have trouble thinking of trials as a gift from God.  When I was young I welcomed them because I knew that they were helping me learn and develop.  Now that I’m in middle age, I find them burdensome.  Aren’t I developed enough?  God’s answer, of course, is no.  I wish that I had Brother Lawrence’s simplicity, his ability to simply ask for God’s assistance without having a pre-planned idea of what that assistance should look like.  Here’s the quote that accompanies the prayer card I made to help me meditate on this:

When an occasion of practicing some virtue was offered, Brother Lawrence addressed himself to God saying, “I cannot do this unless Thou enablest me”. And then he received strength more than sufficient. When he had failed in his duty, he only confessed his fault saying to God, “I shall never do otherwise, if You leave me to myself. It is You who must hinder my falling and mend what is amiss.” Then, after this, he gave himself no further uneasiness about it.  He said we ought to act with God in the greatest simplicity, speaking to God frankly and plainly, and imploring God’s assistance in our affairs just as they happen. God never failed to grant it, as Brother Lawrence had often experienced.

A Tree Stripped of Its Leaves

I love that Brother Lawrence’s conversion was accomplished through nothing more than noticing a tree stripped of its leaves in winter.  He is like the Zen master who reaches enlightenment when a tile falls off the roof.  Of course, for Brother Lawrence the tree is an image of resurrection – the repeated nature of resurrection and, necessarily, the repeated nature of death.  But instead of leading Brother Lawrence to a lifelong exploration of this ongoing process of death and resurrection, the tree stripped of its leaves mainly leads him to look for God in all things and all moments, most particularly mundane things and moments.  This is enough for Brother Lawrence, this continual call and exploration of what it means to pay attention and stay in communion with God.

Here is the text that accompanies this prayer card:

During that winter, upon seeing a tree stripped of its leaves and considering that within a little time the leaves would be renewed and after that the flowers and fruit appear, Brother Lawrence received a high view of the Providence and Power of God which has never since been effaced from his soul… He said we ought to quicken and enliven our faith. It was lamentable we had so little. Instead of taking faith for the rule of their conduct, people amused themselves with trivial devotions which changed daily. He said that faith was sufficient to bring us to a high degree of perfection. We ought to give ourselves up to God with regard both to things temporal and spiritual and seek our satisfaction only in the fulfilling of God’s will. Whether God led us by suffering or by consolation all would be equal to a soul truly resigned.

Practicing the Presence of God

I have been working on a series of images to accompany Brother Lawrence’s Practicing the Presence of God.  Here in the Diocese of Southern Ohio, we’re planning a series of retreats that are based on Brother Lawrence’s life and letters.  It has been a joy to spend so much time with this great saint and mystic, a man of profound humility and simplicity.  I’ve created a chapbook that contains a transliteration of the whole text of Practicing the Presence of God, and twenty-eight images.  I’ve also created prayer cards with the quotes and images that I like the best.  They’re meant for use during times of private devotion.  In the following days I’ll be putting up separate posts featuring these cards, with some commentary.

Moses and the Thorns

Since I started work on the Exodus Big Read with my friends in the Diocese of Southern Ohio, I’ve been struggling to make a good piece of art that depicts Moses and the Burning Bush.  The story is at once too small and too huge.  Too small because there’s not a lot of action – there are only two persons present, Moses and God, and all they’re doing is talking.  But too large because it’s a theophany – the nature of God is being revealed.  Something beyond image and language is happening to Moses, and he’s being transformed by it.  How do you depict that?

I’m not sure that this attempt is any more successful than the previous images I’ve made. But I learned from my friend, Rabbi Daniel Bogard, that in Judaism its traditional to think of the burning bush as a thorn bush.  You can’t put your hand into it without being grabbed by the thorns.  Once you engage with it, you’re snagged.  Hearing that, I realized that this must, in part, be what’s happening to Moses.  He’s trapped by his contact with the divine.  This resonated with me because I, too, feel entangled with the divine.  My own theophanies haven’t necessarily led to clarity about the nature of the sacred or of the profane, nor do I have any better idea how to respond to either.  But they have snared me in the questions – big, ultimate questions that I can’t stop asking.  For me, in this moment, Moses’s contact is less with fire than with thorns, and I hope that this image reflects that.