You are covered in prayer

I think poetry is the language of mystics, and also the language of conversation and dialogue. Poetry is putting to words that which cannot be put into words, but in a way that is open and remains undefined, instead of closed and fixed. Poetry is molding, but it is also moldable. It is fluidity within fluidity. It is shaped while it shapes. The poet understands the poverty and barrenness of words, and yet believes in the abundance and possibilities of them as well.

Perhaps, if poetry is the language of mystics, then prayer is the work of mystics. I think, sometimes, the temptation for people is to view prayer as the escape from the world, as the way out. But prayer requires that we be intimately engaged with the world: with war, with pain, with hunger, with loneliness, with sickness, with dying, with laughter, with friendship, with dancing, with flowers, with living....... Likewise, in prayer, we are intimately engaged with God, who is intimately engaged with the world.

People ask, "Does prayer really work", but I think the answer is that prayer is work. Prayer is work that is fluid within the fluidity; that envisions what has yet to be; that hopes beyond the moment yet is grounded mindfully in the present; that recognizes God in all that is good and strives for all that is good to be all that is.

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slipped away

I know. I slipped away for a while. Life called. Calls.

There is a strange rhythm to my life that I haven't adjusted to yet. But its getting comfortable. Toni asked me the other day what I am doing for myself, and I had no answer. I count school as doing something for myself. Some selfish, mindless pursuit, that perhaps at the end of my life will look trivial. Perhaps not. Must it lead to a job to appear meaningful?

So, one week I have my kids, and one week I do not. In the weeks without my kids, I bury myself in books and writing; and in the weeks I have my kids, I bury myself in them. I do not feel smothered, but I do not know where I am going.

I hope, though. I hope.

I wish I had taken Greek. See....I haven't even graduated yet, and already I am remorseful of what I didn't do, what I haven't learned. I am missing Iliff, and I haven't left yet.

I think God is strong for me in words; in reading and writing, in sitting quietly letting words bubble up and out, in journals and even blogs. So school feels like a spiritual experience to me. But it is a divine experience that is distant as well. Not so distant that God is transcendent; no God is still imminent. But contained. A hint of intimacy without so much vulnerability.

I've been reading poetry. Mostly Yeats. I don't like the plays, just the poems. I always fall into the mystics: Julian of Norwich and Meister Eckhart. When he says, "God is voluptuous and delicious", what does that mean?? I don't know: sounds intimate and vulnerable to me. Is God ever vulnerable? Or does God just wait for me to be vulnerable?

Sheila likes to say "God is juicy". I just say God is.

I was in class over the weekend and we were studying Dr. Howard Thurman (who I loved, and I need to get some of his books). He said that we should all feel at home somewhere, so that we can feel at home everywhere. For the first time in a long time, I am feeling at home in my home. I feel settled in my apartment. I love to be here. To study, to read, to listen to music, to have friends over, to sit on the balcony. I love to return home after being away. At first, I was so lost here when my kids were gone, but that is not true anymore. Even when they are gone, I know they are coming, and I am settled here while I wait.

When I was pregnant, I would go through the baby clothes, and take them all out, longingly and lovingly folding them. I did this often. Now, when my kids are not with me, I do their laundry, and I have that same longing and loving feeling as I fold their clothes and put them away in their messy, but lived in rooms. Can folding clothes be prayer? Pray without ceasing only can happen if regular everyday activities are activities of prayer, I think.

My youngest daughter loves elephants. She says that she thinks elephants pray. We sent a letter to an elephant rescue reserve in Africa, asking them if they have experience with elephants and reason to believe that they pray. The man who responded was so kind, and took us very seriously. He believes that elephants are spiritual beings, and yes, he believes they pray. I love this idea. I am trying to decide how to work it into a homily soon. The world praying in us, the world praying for us.

I have been reading the Gospel of John lately for my Historical Jesus class, which is kind of like reading poetry. My new image for Jesus is Jesus the poet. Cryptic and obscure. Seeing the stark and difficult realities of the world, with the Divine shining through. One with the Divine, yet distinct outside of the Divine. Maybe. Maybe not.

A key verse from the Gospel of John for me is 3:8, "The wind blows where it wills, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit. "

I do not quite get the Gospel of John. It feels like I need to be on the inside of the words to understand, and I am on the outside. But it also feels like I need ot understand to get inside the words, but I can't understand until I am inside. I have never been able to truly enter the words of Jesus in the Gospel of John. These words puzzle me, puzzle my brain, and yet somehow I believe the winds of Spirit blow through and I encounter the lovely Divine here not knowing where the encounter comes from or where it goes; but I can still hear the sound and my soul knows.

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What is prayer.....

Being a prayerful person, and now a Catholic deacon, people often ask me to pray. I don't want prayer to just be a bunch of wishes, though often that's how prayer starts for me. Here is what I am thinking prayer is.....

Prayer is answering call, God's call.

Prayer matters.

Prayer is all emotions....yes, anger too. God can take it.

God prays with us, in us. Just like God dreams with us, in us.

Prayer is dialogue where I recognize that I might not have the whole truth, and I am open to possibilities.

Prayer is witness to what I want to make of my entire life.

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