Return to this moment, over and over again

The spiritual life is a life of no illusions. Meet God here in the daily realities of this life, this place, the person or task or thing before you now. Meet God here or you'll not meet God anywhere. There's something deeply false and unspiritual in the temptation to want something else, be someone else, or go somewhere other that where you are now. Some people mistakenly think that spirituality is a flight into a different realm, a rejection of the world and ordinary things. There is no other world or place than this one. And if the incarnation of God in Jesus means anything at all (and I think it does), then this world, this place, the faces before us, the streets we walk, the chores we perform, these bodies of ours are all sacred. The truth is, matter matters. And an intentional spiritual life means you live fully awake to the wonder and sacredness of it all. A true spirituality is a united, undivided self--mind, heart, and body. I'm saddened when I realize how must of my life I've spent elsewhere. Elsewhere is always fantasy, illusion, unreality. I've spent too much of my life simply "in my head" and not really in my body, not truly present. It's little wonder, then, that true love has so often escaped me--except for those moments when I found myself drawn into the exquisite pleasure of the present, intensely awake to things like the allure of a rose's fragrant scent, the wonder of a child's innocent view of the world, the glory of a drop of dew trembling precariously on a leaf and looking as if it may burst at any moment.

The narrow gate into the spiritual life you seek stands before you . . . here, now . . . through practices like meditation, contemplative prayer, and the Jesus Prayer.  Many, Jesus said, will take the wide and easy road, undisciplined and nearly always pulled out of the present by the unruly thoughts in their heads. But there's nothing there for you but pain and disappointment.

• Enter through the narrow gate, walk the uncommon path.

• Plop down on the grass (or plunge into the icy, invigorating cold of a snowy field) and see and feel the world from as near the earth as you can get.

• Return to the moment over and over again and you will feel the spirit of life rising in your bones, the fire of the Spirit dancing within you saying, "Yes, Yes! More of that."

This beautiful photo comes compliments of Petra Oldeman Photography, the Netherlands.

Meditation techniques for the busy or impatient

Meditation is not limited to a particular religious tradition.  Across the world, people have practiced meditation for millennia, finding the practice not only a source of strength and inspiration for their spiritual growth, but a benefit to the whole of their life. Here's a helpful link to some meditation techniques for you if you practice meditation, or would like to, but find yourself distracted, busy, or impatient:

Meditation techniques for the busy or impatient

Whatever your religious orientation, these suggestions can help you develop a richer spiritual life and provide you with broader health benefits.

You may find yourself wary of techniques that don't overtly speak your religious language.  Let's say you're a Christian.  Then, consider the meditation techniques as the frame around the priceless painting that God is to you.  Remember, the Trinity is the focus of your attention; the meditation techniques are simply the frame leading to contemplation of the divine.  That the frame might highlight a Buddhist's or Muslim's or Native American's priceless painting doesn't mean you can't also use the frame.

The technique is just a frame.  It's to focus your worship not hold it.  And the sooner the frame's forgotten the sooner you'll be lost in wonder, joy, and love.

Something is Starting to Catch Fire

A friend calls me a spiritual arsonist.  She says I go around setting fire to peoples’ lives. “That doesn’t sound very safe,” I tell her.

“It’s not,” she says, “but that’s what makes it good.”

There are arsonists everywhere.  You're among them.  There's something starting to catch fire, and this spiritual awakening is reaching a tipping point.  It's a blaze that burns in the darkness and the darkness will never put it out (John 1.5)

Here's another witness to the growing blaze . . .

Moving toward unceasing communion with God

One reader explores her own awakening and longing to live in full communion with God.  She's begun a solid practice and the practice of this interior prayer is carrying her deeper into this communion.  She knows the beauty of simply sitting in God's presence, just being.  But she wonders,  "Is it possible for that peace to always be there?" I offer this as an answer . . .

That peace is always there. Jesus assures us that the kingdom, the reign or realm of God, is both coming and already among us. What's more, it is within us. So is it always there, within us and among us.  The trick is to create such a well-worn path by our practice of prayer that we can quickly find the narrow gate to that inner world of eternity no matter where we are or what we're doing.

We will not always (or perhaps often) live in the bliss of that peace. We live a mixed life (both active and contemplative) and will find ourselves tilting one way or another during the day. But we carry the peace of God within us.

Imagine your heart as a little shrine in the midst of the city, often overlooked by the traffic on the street or sidewalk, mostly ignored by the busy and important people in offices and restaurants around it. But it is always there and you can enter it whenever you wish.

There are times you'll forget it and the narrow gate at its entrance will become overgrown and hidden. But when you awaken again and return to your practice, you can push through the ivy on the gate and clear the path again.

It's no use berating yourselves for forgetting the little shrine that's always so near, or fearing that you'll get too busy to enter it. You will. But you can always return. In fact, every distraction is another opportunity for you to return. And you'll find God always smiling, arms outstretched when you walk back through that gate and down the path.

The wonder of all this is that this shrine isn't out the door and down the street.  It's as near as the beating of your heart.  The peace of God is enshrined in your heart and goes with you wherever you may go.

Signs of Awakening

There are signs of awakening all around us.  And there are people who are daring to give voice to that awakening; they’re trying to find words to put with their experience.  Sarah’s one who’s reaching for words—and she, like so many others, is helping us to imagine the future by doing the hard work of bringing to the light of day what the Holy Spirit is speaking in her during these twilight hours before the Dawn breaks upon us.

“There’s a longing that’s stirring within me—a longing for holiness.  You’re right about the Wal-Mart style of Christianity, and it’s created an experience of deep sadness in me, a disappointment at the overall cheapness of it.

“I long for something of value, something of real goodness that cannot be quantified or made systematic. My longings are hard to explain; it’s more of an I-know-it-when-I-see-it kind of thing, and I know it when I see it because it’s real.  I’ve also experienced the kind of conversations within church communities that sound like they’re on the right track, but they’re not.  People ask each other: ‘what does it look like to be real?  How do we create something authentic?’”

Sarah rightly knows there’s an intrinsic link between holiness and realness.  And she knows there’s something false lurking nearby when realness is used for some other purpose.  The moment real can’t stand on its own as a good thing in its own right, is the moment you’ve come face to face with phoniness all dressed up and looking pretty.

If you’re weary and wary of the charade, chances it’s not cynicism that’s at work in you.  You’re part of a larger awakening.  But it could turn to cynicism if you don’t link up with others who’ve glimpsed the first rays of Christ’s coming dawn.

In my experience they're often nearer than you think.  But knowing each other requires guts; we’ve got to try to give voice to what we’re longing for, and risk speaking it to others.