Beyond Words

I’m a bit late with this blog. I’ve been struggling with how to write the last piece of this series; with exactly how to describe the practice of contemplation when the very practice itself requires an abstinence from words; a moving away from sound and words and conscious thought.

How do you write about contemplative prayer, or its close cousin, centering prayer? (Not easily, I assure you, at least based upon my own recent efforts). There are others who have written about this practice far more beautifully and skillfully than I will be able to; I am a “newbie” in this practice, and can share what I do and how it’s transformed me, but I am far from being accomplished in the practice. Not that I haven’t studied up on it; my bookshelves groan with the weight of the volumes I’ve accumulated on the topic. [1] The irony, of course, is that the only way to understand an experiential practice is to do it. Studying about it points the way and gives helpful advice, but the only way to fully benefit, mature and become transformed by the practice of contemplative prayer is to do it.

We begin at the beginning; at the very beginning… even before the beginning - with God Himself. In the Jewish Torah, God revealed Himself to Moses as “I AM Who I AM”, just one of the English translations of “YHWH”. [2] YHWH as written in Hebrew had no vowels, and if spoken (which was not allowed) sounded like the exhalation of human breath. God was breath, the very air we breathed. God was so holy, so sacred that even His name far surpassed man’s poor efforts at grasping His holiness. The moniker “YHWH” was a “non-word”, an attempt to identify that which was beyond words. The boundaries of His sanctity and glory could not be contained, never mind understood or discussed. It was made clear from the beginning and continues to be clear to those who take time to ponder it: God is far beyond words.

We’ve lost the “more” of God— His “beyond-ness”. For if God exists beyond words; if He cannot be contained by words, or be fully apprehended or understood through words, then we must acknowledge that there must more to experiencing God than through spoken prayer. Prayer is good. It is necessary and vital to our faith and well-being (studies have proven as much). But, there is so much more! If God is beyond words, then we need to seek Him in ways that also go beyond words, and into experience. If God must be experienced, then we need to seek Him through experience, with a form of communication that goes over and under and around words, transcending what words may attempt, but never achieve. If God is beyond words, then communication that does not use words skips the “middle man” of words in the transaction, and provides us with a deeper connection, a more honest experience, a more fulfilling encounter with the “I AM”.

Praying with words is good. Praying directly from your heart, beyond the words, is life changing.

Contemplative prayer, or more specifically centering prayer, provides just such an opportunity to experience God beyond words. One word is used- not to pray, but to center us in a quiet space and time (usually 15-20 minutes). One word to remind the busy brain that thoughts are not welcome in this space and time; only the silent heart-gaze of Lover to beloved, and beloved to Lover. When the brain attempts to usurp the space and clangs for attention, the word is repeated to return to the center. (I use two words, mad rebel that I am: “be still”.) “Love”, “Trust”, “God”, are all good choices, but ultimately, it doesn’t matter the word used; it matters only how that word centers the heart and helps one to dive under the ocean of words and simply be.

Again, for details? See resources suggested below. [3]

Although not an expert in the process, I can speak grandly about how it has changed me; how it has transformed me. Spending time in a quiet centered space before God helps to turn off the brain that is usually filled with all kinds of negative-speak; reminders of what I’ve not done, or what I must do, or how I’ve missed the mark. Turning off the critical voice brings a peaceful calm; an inner acceptance of who I am, warts and all. Turning off the self-aggrandizing, ego-soothing voice brings a cleansing humility and honest reflection. Turning off the guilty voice brings relief and joy, allowing the true light of God’s love to settle in and around my heart. After some time in centering prayer, those shadows that have lingered deep in the soul start to shrink - the light of grace and love smudging their lines, erasing their existence. After time in heart-silence, with one’s gaze simply focused on the Lover, deep gratitude bubbles forth in the middle of the day, unbidden. Tears of humility suddenly creep in while I cook dinner, and I wonder - where did that come from? Waves of charity and love crash up on my heart and I am undone in the midst of my morning shower. What a wonder!

For me, centering prayer has turned prayer into a wild ride of unfolding joy and love. It is not always easy; it’s often a struggle to sit still for 20 minutes, mind intentionally not thinking, repeating a word in order to focus. But it does get easier; and the Spirit is often at work within, sometimes most especially in those difficult times, sifting through our hurts and sorrows, healing deeply buried wounds; convicting, soothing, loving. The Spirit clears away the rubble so that the love of God settles in anew, stronger, brighter and sweeter than before. It is the rhythm of that daily experience that matters, the turning of heart to Father, of soul to Spirit.

The transformation is real and true, and of such deep beauty that I don’t think I’ll ever cease to sit, each and every morning. Twenty minutes... being still.

[1] ] For more study on this, I suggest writings by ancient mystics Julian of Norwich and Theresa of Avila. More easily consumed modern authors Thomas Merton, Thomas Keating, and Cynthia Bourgeault are excellent resources, especially Keating and Bourgeault who offer practical advice and know-how.

[2] Also translated as “I will be what I will be” or “I am the One who is”.

[3] The Center for Contemplative Outreach (online) is an organization dedicated to the study and practice of centering prayer; also, Thomas Keating’s “Open Mind, Open Heart” is an excellent primary source.