Friday, December 25, 2015

The Order of the Co-Inherence





Charles Williams, from The Descent of the Dove:

"At the beginning of life in the natural order is an act of substitution and co-inherence.  A man can have no child unless his seed is received and carried by a woman; a woman can have no child unless she receive and carries the seed of a man – literally bearing the burden.  It is not only a mutual act; it is a mutual act of substitution.  The child itself for nine months co-inheres in its mother; there is no human creature that has not sprung from such a period of an interior growth."[1]

And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus.  He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. And the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David,  and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end."  And Mary said to the angel, "How will this be, since I am a virgin?"  And the angel answered her, "The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy- the Son of God.  And behold, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son, and this is the sixth month with her who was called barren.  For nothing will be impossible with God."  And Mary said, "Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word." And the angel departed from her. [2]

Had he willed, he could presumably have raised for his Incarnation a body in some other way than he chose.  But he preferred to shape himself within the womb, to become hereditary, to own to humanity the flesh that he divinitized by the same principle – “not by conversion of the Godhead into flesh, but by taking of the manhood into God.”  By an act of substitution he reconciled the natural world of the kingdom of heaven, sensuality with substance.  He restored substitution and co-inherence everywhere; up and down the ladder of that great substitution all our lesser substitutions run; within that sublime do-inherence all our lesser co-inherences inhere.[3]

It is the manner of childbirth.  It is the image everywhere of supernatural charity.”  It is also the bedrock of intercessory prayer when in a very real way, like Moses of old, we stand in the breach for others, “Therefore he said he would destroy them- had not Moses, his chosen one, stood in the breach before him, to turn away his wrath from destroying them”[4]  thus fulfilling the divine command, “Bear one another’s burdens.”[5]




[1] Charles Williams, The Descent of the Dove, (Vancouver: Regent College Publishing, 1939), p. 234
[2] Luke 1:31-39
[3] Williams, p. 235
[4] Ps. 106:23
[5] Galatians 6:2


Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Are You At Peace?


                                                                                     


Are you at peace? Peace is a quality of life long sought after and too seldom found. One of the ancient names of God is “Yahweh Shalom”. It means “The Lord is Peace!” Peace is not a quality that can be squeezed out of human circumstances, nor conjured up by finite and mortal minds. Peace is not merely the absence of conflict, but rather it is a quality of life that emanates from God Himself. Peace is not bovine placidity. Peace is the tranquillity of spirit that rests upon the Rock the never moves.

Isaiah the prophet says, “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee: because he trusteth in Thee” (Isaiah 26:3). Peace comes from relationship with the God of peace. Peace comes from resting in Him who is Peace Itself.

Several things destroy peace. An unwillingness to forgive, or an unwillingness to love either yourself or another, stand out as peace breakers. Fear, guilt, and control issues also block the entrance of peace. The first step towards resting in the God Who is Peace often starts with the action of surrender, the willingness to let go, to relax, to let drop, to be still. “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).

Experience teaches us that such surrender is often beyond our grasp, but experience also teaches us that when we crack open the doors of our hearts and say to Him, “You know I am not willing, but I am willing to be willing”, that the miracle of inner healing begins. It is a principle of Divine grace and love, that He comes down to our level and meets us where we are, not where we think we ought to be. That in a very real sense is why the Living God became Incarnate in the flesh of humankind.

The classic Anglican understanding of true peace, true tranquillity of spirit, rests on a three-fold foundation: The Daily Offices (Morning and Evening Prayer in the Book of Common Prayer), Habitual Recollection (The practice of the presence of God, and informal prayers), and faithful attendance at Holy Eucharist. Peace is an acquired grace that comes from a spiritual orientation carried into action in prayer and worship. When you are intentionally with the God of peace, peace will be yours. Peace is a grace from God that comes as the fruit of spiritual discipline.

Our desire is often for instant results: “I want peace, and I want it right now!” Peace doesn't often come that way, rather it is born and nurtured in our hearts. There is a necessary process. We become at least willing to forgive, and willing to love, even though for the life of us we can’t artificially drum up either forgiveness or willingness. We begin to pray and read Scripture, at least taking on ourselves one of the Daily Offices; and we persist day after day in humble, quiet discipline. The process is much like planting a seed; once planted don’t keep pulling it up to see if roots are developing. Plant the Offices within your soul and water with persistence, keeping your soul in the light of the Word. Peace most often steals upon us unawares. Looking back we say with some small surprise, “Well, well, it seems I have been at peace now for some while. So quiet is the coming of peace. Would you expect it to be any other way?


Sunday, December 13, 2015




Let me invite you to think! Some Christians don’t like to think, but to me that is like trying to sleep in short-sheeted bed. My own observation is that we first encounter God; then we begin to understand Him. It is the process of understanding Him, and consequently understanding myself and others, that fascinates me; what Anselm would refer to as “de ratione fidei” thinking something out for oneself in prayer. Anselm’s Monologion “supplies a method of harmonizing faith with reason. The subject of the discourse, as (Martin) Rule points out, is not the reason of faith but the being of God; this is first affirmed by faith and then subjected to the method—de ratione fidei—of thinking something out for oneself in prayer: credo ut intelligam.
In the Prosologion Anselm says, “I seek not, O Lord, to search out Thy depth, but I desire in some measure to understand Thy truth, which my heart believeth and loveth. Nor do I seek to understand that I may believe, but I believe that I may understand. For this too I believe, that unless I first believe, I shall not understand.” (Martin Thornton: English Spirituality, [1963, Published in the U. S. A. by Cowley Publications], p. 157, 158. Half a century ago a college friend of mine referred to some of the young Christians in our Christian college as “spiritual dwarfs;” thus causing an uproar of protest. Retrospectively he was right, the Church has many spiritual dwarfs who accept the tenets of faith but don’t like to think about them. ~ Dom Anselm, Oblate OSB

Sunday, December 6, 2015

Reflections on the Interior Castle


Leeds Castle, Kent, England


The great mystery of Christian life is that we are the temple of the Holy Spirit and through the gift of the Spirit the Father and the Son come to us and make their home within us. That is not only as an objective fact based on Holy Scripture and the doctrine of the Church, but also a fact that is meant to be experienced subjectively in our personal experience in real time.

The Quaker Thomas Kelly wrote “Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which may continuously return.  Eternity is at our hearts, pressing upon our time-torn lives, warming us with intimations of an astounding destiny, calling us home unto Itself.”   That Light is Christ Jesus our Lord.  He is the light of the world.

In her book The Interior Castle, Teresa of Avila tells us, “I began to think of the soul as if it were a castle made of a single diamond or of very clear crystal, in which there are many rooms, just as in Heaven there are mansions.”   She goes on to say, “In speaking of the soul we must always think of it as spacious, ample and lofty; and this can be done without the least exaggeration, for the soul’s capacity is much greater than we can realize, and this Sun, Which is in the palace, reaches every part of it.”

However not every soul is a glorious castle.   With its central dwelling place and surrounding rooms the medieval castle is an image of the interior life; but what of the ruined castle with its crumbling stairs and battlements and all of its wooden floors long since rotted out?  Evelyn Underhill remarks, “Some souls, like some people, can be slummy anywhere.  There is always a raucous and uncontrolled voice ascending from the basement, and a pail of dirty water at the foot of the stairs.”

The first order of business with the soul is housecleaning.  John testifies, “But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.  If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.  If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

We come to the door of the castle through the grace of forgiveness and our acceptance of Jesus Christ as our Saviour and Lord.  That is only safe way to approach the door.  Teresa tells us, “As far as I can understand, the door of entry into this castle is prayer and meditation.” 

If we are going to enter through the door we have to actually approach the door.  Prayer, to be prayer at all must be both conscious and intentional.  Teresa says,  “If a person does not think Whom he is addressing, and what he is asking for, and who it is that is that is asking and of Whom he is asking it, I do not consider that he is praying at all even though he may be constantly moving his lips.”   St. Benedict tells us, “Whenever we want to ask some favour of a powerful man, we do it humbly and respectfully for fear of presumption.  How much more important, then, to lay our petitions before the Lord God of all things with the utmost humility and sincere devotion?”  

There is in St. Teresa a fusion of awe and familiarity with her Lord.  She refers to her Lord as “His Majesty,” and at the same time refers to Him as “the Beloved.”  Too often in prayer we strive to reach that place of warm familiarity and intimacy without realizing that holy awe is an absolute necessity; and those who shy away from holy awe do not in truth recognize the God they seek to approach.  Teresa tells us that if we do not recognize the person we are addressing we are not praying, just moving our lips. 

That acknowledgment of awe runs through all of the Psalms and is a fundamental part of prayer.  It is not just a sense of awe in relationship with God in Trinity in Unity, or even a sense of awe in God the Father alone.  We are particularly prone to sentimentalize our relationship with Jesus, but of the awesome Christ the Psalmist declares;

 Psalm 110   Dixit Dominus (1979 Book of Common Prayer)

1    The Lord said to my Lord, “Sit at my right hand, *
      until I make your enemies your footstool.”

2    The Lord will send the scepter of your power out of Zion, *
      saying, “Rule over your enemies round about you.

3    Princely state has been yours from the day of your birth; *
      in the beauty of holiness have I begotten you,
      like dew from the womb of the morning.”

4    The Lord has sworn and he will not recant: *
      “You are a priest for ever after the order of Melchizedek.”

5    The Lord who is at your right hand
      will smite kings in the day of his wrath; *
      he will rule over the nations.

6    He will heap high the corpses; *
      he will smash heads over the wide earth.

7    He will drink from the brook beside the road; *
      therefore he will lift high his head.




Reflections on the Interior Castle


Leeds Castle, Kent, England


The great mystery of Christian life is that we are the temple of the Holy Spirit and through the gift of the Spirit the Father and the Son come to us and make their home within us. That is not only as an objective fact based on Holy Scripture and the doctrine of the Church, but also a fact that is meant to be experienced subjectively in our personal experience in real time.

The Quaker Thomas Kelly wrote “Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which may continuously return.  Eternity is at our hearts, pressing upon our time-torn lives, warming us with intimations of an astounding destiny, calling us home unto Itself.”   That Light is Christ Jesus our Lord.  He is the light of the world.

In her book The Interior Castle, Teresa of Avila tells us, “I began to think of the soul as if it were a castle made of a single diamond or of very clear crystal, in which there are many rooms, just as in Heaven there are mansions.”   She goes on to say, “In speaking of the soul we must always think of it as spacious, ample and lofty; and this can be done without the least exaggeration, for the soul’s capacity is much greater than we can realize, and this Sun, Which is in the palace, reaches every part of it.”

However not every soul is a glorious castle.   With its central dwelling place and surrounding rooms the medieval castle is an image of the interior life; but what of the ruined castle with its crumbling stairs and battlements and all of its wooden floors long since rotted out?  Evelyn Underhill remarks, “Some souls, like some people, can be slummy anywhere.  There is always a raucous and uncontrolled voice ascending from the basement, and a pail of dirty water at the foot of the stairs.”

The first order of business with the soul is housecleaning.  John testifies, “But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.  If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.  If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

We come to the door of the castle through the grace of forgiveness and our acceptance of Jesus Christ as our Saviour and Lord.  That is only safe way to approach the door.  Teresa tells us, “As far as I can understand, the door of entry into this castle is prayer and meditation.” 

If we are going to enter through the door we have to actually approach the door.  Prayer, to be prayer at all must be both conscious and intentional.  Teresa says,  “If a person does not think Whom he is addressing, and what he is asking for, and who it is that is that is asking and of Whom he is asking it, I do not consider that he is praying at all even though he may be constantly moving his lips.”   St. Benedict tells us, “Whenever we want to ask some favour of a powerful man, we do it humbly and respectfully for fear of presumption.  How much more important, then, to lay our petitions before the Lord God of all things with the utmost humility and sincere devotion?”  

There is in St. Teresa a fusion of awe and familiarity with her Lord.  She refers to her Lord as “His Majesty,” and at the same time refers to Him as “the Beloved.”  Too often in prayer we strive to reach that place of warm familiarity and intimacy without realizing that holy awe is an absolute necessity; and those who shy away from holy awe do not in truth recognize the God they seek to approach.  Teresa tells us that if we do not recognize the person we are addressing we are not praying, just moving our lips. 

That acknowledgment of awe runs through all of the Psalms and is a fundamental part of prayer.  It is not just a sense of awe in relationship with God in Trinity in Unity, or even a sense of awe in God the Father alone.  We are particularly prone to sentimentalize our relationship with Jesus, but of the awesome Christ the Psalmist declares;

Psalm 110   Dixit Dominus (1979 Book of Common Prayer)

1    The Lord said to my Lord, “Sit at my right hand, *
            until I make your enemies your footstool.”
2    The Lord will send the scepter of your power out of Zion, *
            saying, “Rule over your enemies round about you.
3    Princely state has been yours from the day of your birth; *
            in the beauty of holiness have I begotten you,
            like dew from the womb of the morning.”
4    The Lord has sworn and he will not recant: *
            “You are a priest for ever after the order of Melchizedek.”
5    The Lord who is at your right hand
      will smite kings in the day of his wrath; *
            he will rule over the nations.
6    He will heap high the corpses; *
            he will smash heads over the wide earth.
7    He will drink from the brook beside the road; *

            therefore he will lift high his head.

Tuesday, December 1, 2015

The Two Fountains




Teresa of Avila frequently uses the word “consolations” to describe what she terms elsewhere as the Prayer of Quiet.  In the Prayer of Quiet the soul, or the inner person, experiences a marked sense of peace and rest accompanied by delight and pleasure in the Presence of God.

Teresa tells us that the Prayer of Quiet flows from two sources, which by analogy she describes as two fountains each having its own basin.  The basin is the supply of grace, the fountain is the outflow.  She says,

Two large basins can be filled with water in different ways: the water in the one comes from a long distance, by means of numerous conduits, and through human skill; but the other has been constructed at the very source of the water and fills it without making any noise . . . [the former] is produced by meditation.  It reaches us by way of the thoughts; we meditate upon created things and fatigue the understanding; and when at last, by means of our own efforts, it comes, the satisfaction which it brings to the soul fills the basin.[i] 

St. Diodochus of Photiki tells us that, “It is therefore necessary to work upon the soul           forcefully for a while, so that we may come to taste divine love fully and consciously" (2 Cor. 2:4)[ii]
  
This working upon the soul is described by Teresa,

Most of the souls which dwell in the former Mansions already described [she is referring to the first three: Entry through the Gate; The Room of Self-Knowledge, and the illusion of False Security] are familiar with these feelings of devotion, for they labour with the understanding almost continuously, and make use of it in their meditations.  They are right to do this . . . they would do well, however to spend short periods of time in making various acts, and praising God and rejoicing in His goodness and in His being Who He is, and in desiring His honour and glory.  They should do this as well as they can, for it goes a long way towards awakening the will.

St. Benedict also instructs regarding the length of prayers, saying, “”Prayer should be short and pure, unless perhaps it is prolonged under the inspiration of divine grace.”[iii]

Teresa is also sustained by the daily cycle of prayer within the community.  The rhythm of the Hours of Prayer, the frequency of Eucharist, her persistent habit of recollection and her running dialogue with her Lord, weave together a background that stabilizes and balances her life of prayer, and keeps her feet in motion even when her mind is running on disconnect.  She observes the classic threefold way of prayer:  The Daily Offices; Informal Prayer and Habitual Recollection; and Attendance at the Mass. 

She knows from long experience that it is necessary to hold one's soul aloft to God that He may pour His blessing upon it.  I am reminded of a line from a hymn, “I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew he moved my soul to seek him, seeking me; it was not I that found, O Savior true; no, I was found, was found of thee.” [iv]  All is of grace, and in all of our seeking He moves within us drawing us upward.

            While the Daily Offices are the foundation of the life of prayer, the two-fold Prayer of Recollection brings us deeper into that experience that Teresa refers to as “spiritual sweetness.”  This is a two-sided experience.  There are two basins and two fountains.  One is active, the other passive. One is acquired grace, the other infused grace.  Bear in mind that the active side also rests on the gift of grace.  She says, “This spiritual sweetness arises from the actual virtuous work which we perform, and we think that we have acquired it by our own labours.”[v]

            But there comes a break-point when God in His love and grace meets our upward motions.   She refers to Psalm 119:32 “I have run the way of thy commandments, when thou didst enlarge my heart.”[vi]  It is the last phrase that she emphasizes, and refers to in Latin,  Cum Dilatasti cor meum, “when thou didst enlarge my heart.”  As God in his love and grace meets us he enlarges our hearts that we might experience more of his presence.

            It is here that passive recollection begins.  She cautions us not to “think too much, but to love much; do, then, whatever most arouses you love.”[vii]  This is not the time for the Daily Offices, for lengthy prayers, or for active study and meditations, but rather a time for short expressions of love, perhaps for only single words that help us stay within the presence of God.

            This is illustrated by the practice of Lectio Divina.  The four steps of Lectio Divina are Read, Reflect, Respond, and Rest.  The first three steps are active.  One reads the passage through several times listening for what God is saying.  Then one reflects on the meaning of the passage, not exhaustive bible study, but rather just clarifying the meaning of the text.  One then responds to God in prayer regarding what he has said.  All of that is active.  The fourth is passive, and is a form of the Prayer of Recollection.  Having heard God speak, and having responded in prayer, one then simply rests in the presence of God.  This may be for a short period of time, occasionally longer.  In revisiting the dialogue that arises from Lectio Divina the sense of the presence of God frequently returns.  That is one experience of the Prayer of Recollection.

            Our experience of the Prayer of Recollection is both active and passive, but not necessarily orderly.  It is two fountains drawing from two basins.  It is acquired grace and infused grace, by gift the infused grace overwhelming the acquired grace.  Teresa uses the term the Prayer of Quiet at the beginning of the Fourth Mansion and the term the Prayer of Recollection at the end. 

She is not systematic, but rather affective, sharing her experience from the heart, and often going off in tangents, circling around, and finally returning to her subject.  Reading Teresa is like dodgem cars, it is like entering into an exciting conversation, a dialogue, rather than listening to a theological lecture.



[i] Teresa of Avila, trans. E. Allison Peers, Interior Castle, (New York: Doubleday, 1989). p.81
[ii] Kallistos Ware, trans. “St. Diodochus of Photiki,” The Philokalia, (London: Faber and Faber, 1979), Vol. 1, p. 289.
[iii] The Rule of St. Benedict, ed. Timothy Fry,  (Collegeville: The Liturgical Press, 1982), Ch. 20, v. 4
[iv] Anonymous
[v] Teresa, p. 73                                                                                                                                            
[vi] KJV
[vii] Teresa, p. 76