IMAGO DEI: November 3, 2016
www.imagodeicommunity.ca       

If a son asks his father for bread, would he give him a stone instead?
Matt. 7:9

To know God is to trust God.  It’s as simple as that.  And the opposite is just as true.  To not trust God is an indicator that we do not really know God.  In other words, the “god”  we do not trust is not really God, but rather a false imagining of our own making.  This reasoning also applies to people who believe, for instance, that God is absent, that He has wronged them, or somehow betrayed or abandoned them.  The untrustworthy god that they are imagining is not truly God.

To accept the fact that such “gods” are actually fictitious projections of our own fears is a first step towards establishing a more truthful relationship with the real God.  Confessing our false images provides an opportunity for us to start all over again— a chance to be re-introduced to this “Jesus I never knew.”  The alternative is to continue living in a dysfunctional relationship with the “god” of our fears.

The “God who cannot be trusted” does not really exist.  And yet, through our imaginations, we often live in complex relationships with such non-existent gods.  It is important to recognize and name the presence of false idols in our theological thinking.  Such caricatures are most readily identified by their un-Godlike character,—e.g. the god who is always angry with you, the god who is always disappointed in you, the god who is always demanding more from you.  Or, conversely, the god who doesn’t care what you do or how you live.

There are many Christians whose relationship with the spirit they call “God” actually produces desolation in them.  But, mercifully, the Lord will not allow us to establish our foundation on such unstable idols.  Instead, the inner turmoil these relationships produce is meant to reveal to us the unfittingness of our images of God.

The Lord once taught His disciples how ridiculous it would be to not trust His Father.  He asked rhetorically, “if a son asks his father for bread, would he give him a stone instead?”  Of course not.  That would be laughable.  And yet that is exactly what we imply when we imagine God as not being good or faithful towards us.

To know God is to trust God.  We can then rest in the secure fact that He is good—in other words, in the truth of who He really is.  Faith is what assures us of God’s character—that He loves me, that He is merciful, that He is trustworthy, that He is faithful, that He understands me, and that He will never abandon me.  To think of Him otherwise, as Jesus suggests, would be laughable.

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities
(written for June 26^th, 2014)

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION

1. What are some imaginary characteristics of God that you think you might be living with?  How would you describe the “merciful turmoil” God allows you to experience in relation to these false images?  How does confession of such idols open us to the possibility of a new relationship with God?

2. In what ways have you underestimated God in the past?  How does the discrepancy between the fearful projections of your imagination and the revelation of God’s character in Scripture suggest that you do not yet know the Lord as fully as you might in these areas?

3. Consider the invitation to let go of an image of God that you suspect is false.  How would you feel having to start over again with “the Jesus I never knew?”  Would you welcome this?  Or might you find yourself clinging to the false god you know rather than risking the mystery of the God you don’t know?

FOR PRAYER:  Come to God as a child, ready to be taught anew.  Confess your ignorance and ask the Lord to reveal Himself to you afresh, as He really is.  Let God confirm directly to you all the attributes that Scripture speaks of Him.

IMAGO DEI:
www.imagodeicommunity.ca

Do I bring to the moment of birth and not give delivery?” says the Lord
                                                                               Isa. 66:9

The end of any discernment process will naturally presume some action on our part.  That’s why Fr. Thomas Green, in his book, Weeds among the Wheat, refers to discernment as “prayer meeting action.”  In other words, the final stage of discernment, will inevitably require of us the courage to act.

But the process of discernment can sometimes lead to a place of paralysis where a person cannot, or perhaps will not, choose a course of action out of fear of being wrong.  They have done all the preliminary prayer work of discernment.  They have established impartiality in themselves, remaining at an equilibrium regarding all the options before them, they have removed from themselves the influence of inordinate desires or fears that would affect their decision, and they have given their wills over to God’s pleasure as best they can. But in the process of being so open-handed in their disposition, they have perhaps also relinquished their will to act.

We often have a pretty good idea of what God is calling us to do.  But, consciously or subconsciously, we also want to delay the inevitable action that this choice will require of us.  Feeling stuck like this—unable to bring to birth that which we have conceived—reveals an underlying disposition that is important to acknowledge in the discernment process.  It is the fear we have of facing the onerous responsibility of making a choice.  Through our inaction, we are in fact saying to God, “I don’t really want to make this decision. I want You to make it for me.”  But this is where God turns the tables on us.  If we have been saying to the Lord, “I want whatever You want,” the Lord now says to us, “Good, but you are the one who must now choose what you think I want.”

As discerning Christians we are to assume the responsibility of not only seeking God’s will in our lives but of also acting in the world according to that discernment.  In the freedom of faith, it is up to us to choose, with God’s counsel, how to best serve Him.  And it is a shirking of that responsibility when our discernment process simply ends with the prayer, “You decide for me.”

Fear of the responsibility of making a choice can keep us paralyzed in an unfruitful state of discernment.  This is the image the Lord gives in Isaiah—of a baby stuck in the labour process.  Discernment, however, is never a substitute for faith. Nor is it an excuse to dump our hard decisions on God.  But it does take courage—the final thrust of faith—to bring to birth that which we have conceived in our discernment, and to counter the paralyzing fear that sometimes sabotages the process of “prayer meeting action.”

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities
(written for Oct.17^th, 2013)

QUESTIONS

1.       Do you remember an occasion when the fear of making a wrong choice paralyzed you?  How did the situation resolve itself?  Were the fears warranted?

2.       How might the open-handed disposition we are trying to maintain in our discernment process wrongly suggest to us that we are also letting go of our responsibility to choose?  How is asking God to decide for us a shirking of the freedom He gives us to discern His will?

3.       What will you need from God in order to find the courage to act, in faith, in the midst of uncertainty with regards to the outcome of your decision?

PRAYER:  If there is an issue that you are presently discerning, consider the posture of saying yes beforehand to God, regardless of which option He will indicate.  In other words, lean forward with your will, and be fully prepared to act according to either direction the Lord might choose.

IMAGO DEI: Published September 29, 2016
www.imagodeicommunity.ca

Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story-
those he redeemed from the hand of the foe.
                                          Psalm 107:2

It is not very difficult for me to remember the man I was when Christ first found me—a man who had, in many ways, lost his life to foolishness and dissipation.  I know that I am not the same person today that I was when I first met Jesus.  The very dignity of sonship that I had squandered and that I never imagined could be recovered has somehow been restored to me.  I am a new creation today, a very different person from who I was as a young prodigal.  My life has been given back to me, and it is easily understood as gift.  As I often say to God, “my life belongs more to You than to me, not because I give it to You, but because You gave it to me.”

Such gratitude in recognition of what we have been saved from is the call to worship that we hear repeated again and again in Psalm 107.  It is a reminder to all those Jesus has rescued from afar—from the hand of the foe—to “give thanks to the Lord for His unfailing love and His wonderful deeds for humankind” (v. 15).

The Psalm reminds those who “wandered in desert wastelands, finding no way to a city where they could settle” (v. 4) how the Lord has graciously saved them. It recalls their lostness and how God delivered them from their distress and “led them by a straight way to a city where they could settle” (v. 7).  Does this imagery apply to any period of wandering in your own life?  Have you too been rescued from lostness or aloneness and placed in a community where God is now establishing you in love?  If so you are encouraged to “give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for humankind.”

The Psalmist next describes those who “sat in darkness because they rebelled against God’s commands and despised the plans of the Most High” (v. 10-11).  It reminds them  how they “stumbled, and there was no one to help” (v. 12).  But it also recalls how they cried out to the Lord in their trouble and how “He brought them out of darkness and broke their chains” (v. 14).  Are there periods in your life when you knowingly rebelled against God’s commands and subsequently found yourself stumbling?  If you have been given reprieve from the consequences of such, then you too are encouraged to  “give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for humankind.”

The Psalmist continues, now addressing those who “became fools through their rebellious ways” (v. 17).  They “suffered affliction because of their iniquities” (V. 17).  It reminds them how they too cried to the Lord in their trouble, and how “ He sent out His word and healed them.”  If you have experienced, in any way, the salvation and healing of God’s mercy applied to the foolishness of some of your life choices, then you too are called to “give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for humankind.”

And finally, there are those who, through no fault of their own, experienced calamity in life.  The Psalmist draws on the imagery of a ship caught in a storm, where the waves are lifted high and we fear for our safety.  We are to recall such times of peril when our “courage melted away” (vs. 26) and how, when we cried out to the Lord, He “stilled the storm to a whisper” (v. 27) and “guided us to our desired haven” (v. 30).  We are to especially remember the gratitude we felt after the storm—how glad we were when it grew calm.

For these and countless other experiences of God’s salvation in our lives we are invited to “give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for humankind.”  As we begin a new year together, let us remember and celebrate God’s grace throughout our lives.  Let us approach the year with gratitude, recalling the wonderful mercies we have already seen.  And let us, with genuine hope, anticipate such continuing mercies from the Lord in the days to come.

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities
(written for January 16, 2014)

FOR DISCUSSION:

1. Which of these four narratives do you have experience of?  The plight of lostness? Rebelliousness?  Foolishness?  Calamities?  What did these experiences teach you about God’s desire and ability to save you?

2. Take time to focus on a particular event in your life in which one of these narratives applied.  If you are in an Imago Dei group, and if appropriate, share this story with others so that they too can give thanks to God.

3. Why do you think Scripture often calls us to remember and recount the saving mercies of God in our lives and in our communities? How might you might commemorate these stories of God’s grace through a symbolic act or artifact (e.g. Gen. 25:18)?

FOR PRAYER:  Consider how the Lord’s saving grace has transformed your life.  Meditate on the fact that you are not the same person today as you were when Jesus first found you.  Imagine what your life would look like if you had never met the Lord.  Give thanks to God for the many ways the knowledge of Christ has saved you.

IMAGO DEI: September 15, 2016
www.imagodeicommunity.ca

The light shines in darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.  John 1:5

The coming of Jesus has certainly confused our experience of spirituality.  Our relationship to divinity, ever since, has become much more subtle.  Gone are the well-defined walls that separated what is godly from what is merely human. Gone is the clear-cut distinction between the sacred and the common.  And gone is the obvious logic of heaven and earth as two separate geographies.  Instead, we have divinity mingled with humanity, and sanctity somehow shining through the darkness of our sins.

The OT was painstaking in the ways it delineated the gulf between what is divine and what is human.  The tabernacle itself was an elaborate object lesson demonstrating, in the most graphic terms, the distance that separates purity from sin.  Its main purpose was to communicate the fact that God is holy—and that we are not.  The fact that such clear boundaries exist was a given in the OT.  But Jesus has changed all that.  He who is both human and divine has confused the lines of demarcation that made sense of our lot.

When we knew ourselves uniquely as sinners it was easy to grasp the distance between ourselves and God.  But now we’re not so sure.  Jesus has blurred the boundaries.  He has torn the curtain that not only kept us from God, but also kept God from us.  Separating the weeds from the wheat isn’t as easy as it was before.  Even in our own hearts, it is difficult to discern what is human and what is of the Spirit.  For, in the person of Christ, the two have mysteriously become one.

The light shines in darkness.  God somehow co-exists with even the most profane aspects of our humanity.  He dwells in the midst of our basest instincts.  He skirts on the edges of our sins, dances in and around our iniquities.  Nothing impedes His grace.  Though sin persists in us, divinity is undeterred.  Though our depravity is evident, Jesus continues to shepherd us towards a sanctity that somehow already dwells within.

The darkness has not understood this.  His glorious Truth beckons from deep in our hearts, a righteousness that we feel called to become. Though we live much of our lives out of sync with this Truth, Christ’s love is relentlessly conforming and aligning us to its movements.  Though our inner lives flicker in and out of darkness, His presence continually lights our way.

Such is the mystery of the Incarnation.  We cannot understand how or why this Light persists, but we nevertheless grow in our faith and experience that even our sins cannot  thwart its purpose.  Praise be to God for His steadfast ways!  In spite of our confusing darkness, the Light of His unconditional grace is somehow making perfect sense of our lives.

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities
(written for Jan. 2^nd, 2014)

FOR DISCUSSION:

1. How do you relate to the experience of darkness and light co-existing within you?  What examples do you see of this in your life at present?

2. What is required of you, and of your understanding of God, in order to live in the paradox that though you are a sinner you are also a saint, and that though you are a saint, you are also a sinner?

3. Jesus said that His sheep would “go in and out” of pasture (Jn. 10:13).  How might this relate to your experience of living in and out of sync with the Spirit’s movement within you?

FOR PRAYER:  Meditate on the fact that Christ’s light shines even in the darkest recesses of your soul.  Thank God that there is nothing in you that will deter or thwart His purpose for that Light.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning.
Lam. 3:22-23

The ocean laps against the shore.  Each wave extends towards the land, then draws back into itself.  Sometimes a small shell is caught in this action.  With each passing wave it is drawn nearer to the sea.  As the water recedes, the shell advances a few inches and then rests until the next wave.

But sometimes the shell gets lodged in the sand.  For a time it remains stuck there. The waves continue to lap around it but it no longer advances.  The waves however now have another objective.  With each passing they are now working around the shell, drawing away the sand that is keeping it from advancing towards the ocean. Eventually, enough sand will be taken away and the shell will be free once again to respond to the draw of the waves.

Watching such a scene unfold at the beach I can easily recognize the similar action of God in my life.  His waves of grace have often washed over my life, lapping on my shores and drawing me to return to my Father’s house.  Sometimes my return is thirty fold, sometimes sixty or even a hundred fold.

But often, like the sea shell, I too get stuck in the sands of life.  Though God’s waves continue to lap on my shore, I no longer respond to its draw.  At such times I can easily   feel like God has left me behind.  But faith tells me, in spite of my seeming lack of progress, that His waves are nevertheless clearing the sand that prevents me from advancing towards His love.  Though I might not notice it, each wave is helping remove the obstacles that keep me from responding as I should.

Eventually His grace will dislodge me from whatever is holding me back, and I will be free to respond once more to His presence.  Such is the everlasting mercy of God—it is new every morning.  Whether we feel free or stuck, we can be certain that His waves are always drawing us towards Himself, and that He is intent on removing every obstacle in our way.

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities
(written for Nov. 20, 2014)

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:

1. Consider the action of God’s waves lapping on your shore and drawing you closer to Himself.  What is required to let yourself be taken towards Him?  How might you be resisting this action?

2. What “sands” are there in your life that cause you to get stuck, no longer able or willing to respond to God?

3. How might you present yourself to God during these times so that His waves can erode the sand around you and dislodge you from the places you feel stuck in?  How is this different from trying to dig yourself out of a rut?

FOR PRAYER:  Thank God for His “waves of grace” that continually lap the shores of your life.  In your prayer, let yourself be drawn more and more into the ocean of His love.

For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.   Heb. 4:12

Reading Scripture, for me, can often feel like drinking from a fire hydrant.  There’s just too much coming at me all at once.  If I’ve learned anything over the years of studying the Bible it is how to slow down the process of engaging with Scripture.  One of the ways I do this is by simply working with smaller portions at a time.  *

Theologians refer to these small sections of Scripture as “pericopes” (pronounced “perri-cuppays” with the emphasis on the second syllable).  They represent a block idea or selection from a larger section or chapter.  The NIV, for instance, helpfully divides its chapters under various pericope titles.

My goal these days is to go deeper rather than wide in my study of God’s word.  I miss too much when I try to read larger sections of Scripture.  Instead I choose a smaller portion and read it over and over again as I prayerfully commune with God over these words.  Often I will find myself returning to the same passage (or verse) again the next day if I feel there is more that God wants to speak to me about.

Reading Scripture has become more a matter of getting to know the living and active presence of Christ in His Word than trying to pull meaning or insight from these texts.  I treat each of these sections of Scripture like an icon that I am gazing at, searching for the proverbial “cracks” where the light comes through.  Each pericope is like a room that is waiting to be entered.  And what I am looking for in those rooms is not to study the architecture or furnishing but to better know the Person who lives here.

Sometimes I experience that Presence as no more than a flicker of light or peace that passes over my heart while I am reading.  The Spirit graces me without my having any immediate understanding of why that particular phrase or idea has touched me as it has.  I make a note of it and return to the same word or verse over and over again, asking God why my heart seems to be responding as it is.  I try to be sensitive to the deep, underground resonances taking place in me as I hover over the words on the page.

Most of what I read, of course, goes over my head, but that’s ok.  I’m communing with the living and active Presence of God’s Word.  And faith tells me that, whether I understand it or not, this Word is nevertheless ministering to me.  What I want most is for it to somehow touch my heart—that it will not come back empty but will accomplish whatever the Lord set it out to do in my life.

Because I often feel stumped by Scripture I spend a lot of time asking God questions about the texts I am reading.  It would be foolish for me to too quickly write off something it says as irrelevant just because I don’t readily understand it.  Wisdom gives the text the benefit of the doubt.  And faith allows me to sit longer with a difficult passage rather than prematurely dismiss it.  As Martin Luther once said, “Every verse of Scripture is like the branch of an apple tree.  You have to keep shaking it until the fruit falls off.”

Jesus told His disciples “I have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear” (Jn. 16:12).  Knowing that to be the case, I try to be happy with the few crumbs that fall my way and not be presumptuous in thinking I should be getting more than I do.  I have also come to accept that the seeming impenetrability of Scripture often has more to do with the dullness of my own heart, the diffusion of my mind, or the questionable attitude I approach this with than with any obscurity in the text itself.  There is a conversion of the heart implied in how Scripture teaches me to approach it with appropriate humility.

And so I press into the Bible, confident that I am growing not only in my relationship to the knowledge of God but also to the mystery of how the Lord forms us through His living and active Word.  I have long stopped assuming that right understanding is the only goal of Scripture reading.  Instead, I simply present myself to its healing light and welcome whatever conversion the Lord intends for me as I submit to the effects of Scripture.

*  of course reading a whole book of the Bible in one sitting, or the discipline of reading three chapters each day also have many obvious benefits.

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities
(written for May 24, 2014)

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:

1. In what ways have you perhaps “written off” certain portions of Scripture?  What would it mean for you to give the Bible the benefit of the doubt when it comes to passages that you don’t understand?
2. What other purposes besides growing in our understanding might God have in mind for us in drawing us to His Word?
3. In what ways does your own “dullness of heart, diffusion of mind, or questionable attitude” contribute to the “seeming impenetrability of Scripture?”

FOR PRAYER:  Try reading a short passage from one of the Gospels as your prayer for today.  Read with your heart.  Look for what resonates there.  Bring your questions to God.  Allow His living and active Presence within this Word to have whatever effect on you the Lord intended for this day.

IMAGO DEI: June 2, 2016
www.imagodeicommunity.ca     

Lord, teach us to pray.   Luke 11:1

One of the handouts that we usually give as part of our yearly Ignatian Spiritual Exercises retreat lists seven principles related to our growth in intimate prayer.  As I was sharing this list at a recent retreat I was encouraged enough by its value to want to offer it to the larger Imago Dei community.  In order to continue growing in intimacy with the reality of God in your life these principles encourage you to:

1.    Understand that God welcomes you just as you are

We will only be free to open our hearts to God to the extent that we believe He welcomes our companionship.  Some will come to God eagerly, as a Friend.  Others might feel reluctant because they are afraid.  Or perhaps they feel resentful or angry at God.  Despite any hesitations, we need to be assured that God welcomes each of us as we are.  God loves us and has taken steps to establish and sustain a loving relationship with us.  He is always moving toward us to help us, forgive us, and embrace us.

2.    Recognize that the Holy Spirit is your Spiritual Director

In John 14:26, Jesus said that the Holy Spirit will teach us all things.  This is especially so when it comes to prayer.  Paul tells us that “we do not know how to pray as we ought to” (Rom. 8:26).  This should always be the humble starting point for how we approach God in prayer.  As did the disciples, we simply ask Jesus to “teach us to pray.”

3.    Seek to be flexible

Prayer involves a delicate, personal interaction between your soul and the Holy Spirit.  Rules and precepts cannot orchestrate this sacred dialogue with God.  Seek to be flexible and sensitive to the moment-to-moment movement of the Spirit during your prayers.  The various skills of movement that you learn through prayer will allow you to shift back and forth from one prayer mode to another, adapting and moving with freedom as you seek intimate knowledge of Christ’s ways in you.

4.    Learn to be guided through peace or turbulence.

We learn to be attuned to the movement of the Holy Spirit during our prayers by becoming sensitive to the experience of peace, or lack of it, as we pray.  By monitoring the inward state of our souls we come to recognize the guidance of the Holy Spirit who is always whispering to us: “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts” (Col.3:15).  As we become more familiar with contemplative prayer we also learn to linger over words, thoughts, images or silences that seem to be highlighted by the Spirit in bringing a special sense of peace to our hearts.  At times, we might also experience feelings of unrest or disturbance in the soul.  These too will need to be explored by asking the Spirit to reveal the reasons behind the disturbance.

5.    Seek an intimate understanding of the truth

As Ignatius taught, it is better to be impressed deeply with one insight, like finding a precious pearl, than to be lightly affected by many.  In encouraging us to savour what we have received Ignatius wrote, “It is not much knowledge that fills and satisfies the soul, but the deep relish of a truth.”  What is important is not to get through a great deal of subject matter in prayer, but to grasp profoundly whatever the Spirit wishes to teach us today.

6.    Discern what works for you.

The end of every prayer should allow for a time of Review, a few minutes to assess our experience in terms of its value for the future.  It is good to ask yourself what you found helpful in achieving the objective of your prayer exercise, and what you found to be a hindrance or distraction.  You can then benefit from this by continuing to practice what worked and eliminating what did not.

7.    Discuss your prayer experiences with your spiritual director.

It is difficult to remain objective about your prayer experiences.  In order to avoid jumping to premature conclusions it is important to present these experiences in such a way that you can look objectively at them.  Sharing them with a spiritual director can help discern God’s presence within your experiences much more easily and accurately than trying to do so yourself.

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities
(written for May 1, 2014)

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:

1. Do you believe that the Holy Spirit can teach you how to “pray as you ought to?”  What posture must you maintain in order to remain teachable?  What thoughts or attitudes move you away from this posture?

2. In what ways do you experience peace or turmoil during prayer?  Do you acknowledge the presence of the Holy Spirit in these experiences, or do you assume these feelings are uniquely your own?

3. What questions would you like to ask God regarding your experience of prayer?  How might the Lord facilitate your articulation of these questions through a spiritual director?

PRAYER:  Thank God for his guidance.  Ask the Lord to teach you how to pray.  Ask Him to lead you to a more intimate and trusting relationship to His initiatives in your life.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.   Matt. 5:4

Many spiritual traditions place a high value on the role of grief and mourning in facilitating both personal and communal transformation.  Ancient Christian monasticism gives particular attention to how tears open up the soul, creating the possibility of a more authentic relationship to God and to others.  Douglas E. Christie, in his book, The Blue Sapphire of the Mind, speaks, for instance, of the Christian monks of the fourth century who believed that the “gift of tears” helped awaken the soul to the reality of life.  He writes.

• Tears, in the ancient Christian monastic world, were believed to express and make possible an honest reckoning with one’s life (especially one’s fragility).  They were the catalyst for life-changing transformation; a reorientation to God and to the larger community.

Though we cannot fabricate such tears, we can seek and welcome them as a precious gift from God, given to help us deepen our capacity for seeing, feeling, and responding to the world and to the movements of our own soul.  Christie recognizes the personal edification that such tears provide when he writes,

• The early Christian monks spoke of being “pierced” to the depth of their souls, and of tears flowing in a moment of sudden recognition of an aspect of their own moral-spiritual life that was in need of healing or renewal. The tears themselves became the means of that healing, the medium through which a clearer, more honest awareness of oneself, the world and God became possible.

To be moved to tears by a heart-piercing recognition of our bondage to sin and of its consequent effects on those around us was a sign of mature faith for these early Christians.  Christie writes of the redemptive effects of such heart-felt responses saying,

• The piercing recognition of one’s helplessness in the face of the debilitating habits of sloth or greed or pride or anger sometimes yielded a sense of release expressed in tears, whose healing power no amount of conscious reflection could ever hope to match. Tears, through the sheer force with which they moved through one’s being, became a primary means through which one could be brought to face our bondage to sin and be adequately motivated to seek release from it.

The early Christian monks welcomed tears as a means of breaking open the soul because they recognized how important it was to feel grief in the face of loss and brokenness.  They also recognized the inability to weep as something to be taken very seriously.  As Christie writes,

• It is possible to ignore or refuse to acknowledge the truth of our brokenness. But doing so means relinquishing oneself to a kind of moral and spiritual blindness, an existence characterized by little possibility for intimacy or reciprocity with others. Hence the need to ask oneself continuously: am I capable of tears? Am I capable of opening myself to the beauty and pain of my own soul, of the souls of others and of the world itself?

Our hearts do not always respond to life as they should, and to confess such can represent the beginning of genuine hope for the regeneration of this faculty in ourselves.  It is the likely prerequisite to our receiving the “gift of tears.”

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities
(from April 10, 2014)

QUESTIONS

1.   What is your experience of genuine remorse in relationship to your sins or to the sins of the world?  How deeply do you feel these?  Or how resigned have you become to the disorders you see in yourself and in the world?

2.  How do you see the “gift of tears” as a healing and freeing initiative of the Holy Spirit?  How can we welcome a deeper experience of our hearts being pierced?

3.   What reasons might we have for resisting such a gift of genuine humanity?  How might that contribute to what Christie calls a life of “spiritual blindness…characterized by little possibility for intimacy or reciprocity with others?PRAYER:  Take time to meditate on a particular sin in your life, or an injustice in the world.  Ask God to give you the gift of genuine and appropriate “tears” in relation to these issues of life.

Without me you can do nothing.  John 15:5

• Your love withers.  You become more self-oriented, more self-seeking.
• Your joy withers.  Your life becomes flat and uninteresting to you.
• Your peace withers.  Your heart becomes more restless, anxious and full of turmoil.
• Your forbearance withers.  You lose patience and have little room in your heart for others.
• Your kindness withers.  You no longer feel inspired to make that extra effort to help others.
• Your goodness withers.  You become more aware of your selfishness and lack of charity.
• Your faith withers.  You feel more fearful about life.  The future seems more worrisome.  The past more regretful.
• Your gentleness withers.
• You have fewer resources to be magnanimous with your circumstances, with others, or with yourself.
• You find yourself more angry in your responses to life.
• Your self-control withers.
• Your discipline cannot hold.  You end up feeling tepid, lazy and lukewarm.
• You know that you are not who you could be in this life, but you lack motivation to do anything about it.

If you can relate to any of these conditions, you would be wise to not overly psychologize your experiences of deficiency.  Instead, recognize them for what they are—a withering of your spiritual life—and come to God for the restoring of your soul.  Such withering requires not better management, but for you to simply return to the vine of Christ.  For as Jesus plainly taught us, “without Me, you can do nothing.”

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities

1. What are some of the tell-tale signs in your behaviour or response to life that would indicate to you that your branch is starting to “wither?”  Which virtues are usually the first to erode in you?  Patience? Gentleness?  Self-control?  Faith?  Others?
2. In what ways have you tried, on your own, to manage or repair the fact that you are withering in a particular virtue?  How satisfied were you with the results of your own efforts?
3. John 15 clearly teaches that the only way we can bear the fruit of Christ in our lives is by being attached to the Vine.  What helps you “remain in His love”?  What faith does it require of you to believe that this “one thing needed” is sufficient?

FOR PRAYER:  Consider some virtue that you feel is withering in your life at present.  Come to Jesus with your poverty of Spirit and ask to be re-attached to His vine so that you can recover this fruit.

In the morning my prayer comes before you.
Psalm 88:13

Through the ministry of Imago Dei we encourage the practice of daily prayer. Our hope is to also testify to its benefits in our own lives. There is such a direct relationship between the practice of contemplative prayer and its evident fruit that we cannot help, out of love for others, but encourage it in their lives as well. Here, more than anywhere, does the adage of “one beggar telling another beggar where he has found food” apply.

The life-changing benefits of prayer are, of course, available to all. As I often and confidently say, if a person commits to praying for at least 20 minutes each day, I guarantee they will become a different person, and live a different life than if they didn’t.

The early 20th century preacher Andrew Murray knew, in his own life, the benefits of daily prayer. He wrote beautifully about it in his book, A Life of Obedience, where he highlights the delight of such daily encounters with God saying,

• To meet with God, to yield ourselves to His will, to know that we please Him, to have Him tell us His desires for the day and lay His hand upon us—this is what we can expect from our time of quiet and devotion. It is what we will come to long for and delight in.

For Murray, the most beneficial offering we can make to God is the time we spend with Him in the morning. There, we establish the foundation that secures us for the rest of our day. He writes,

• It is worth noting how in the morning hour the bond that unites us with God can be so firmly tied that during the hours when, amid the rush of responsibility, we can scarcely think of God, the soul can be kept safe and pure.

Morning prayer establishes a deep keel in our lives which then secures us as we negotiate the unexpected winds and waves of our day. We have renewed this relationship at the onset of our day and, in turn, our recent memory of God assures us that, in spite of the inevitable wanderings of life, we will not stray too far from home. Even sin will have little ground to root in us if we are returning to God each day for direction and redirection. For the simple practice of daily prayer will save us from the foolishness of overly leaning to our own understanding.

In prayer, we work out not only our salvation, but also the assurance of our victory. Our commitment to its daily practice also gives us the assurance of a sanctified life. As Murray notes,

• It is in the place of quiet, where we are alone with God, that our spiritual life is both tested and strengthened. There we enter the battle field where it is decided every day whether God will have all of us and whether our life will be one of absolute obedience. If we truly conquer there, committing ourselves into the hands of our Lord and finding a refuge in Him, victory in the rest of our lives will be certain.

With such a daily “rhythm of return” in place, we can be confident that continual spiritual growth will be the natural fruit of our abiding in the vine. Murray celebrates such confidence saying,

• What cause for praise and joy that the morning watch can so renew and strengthen our surrender to Jesus and our faith in Him that the life of obedience can not only be maintained but also go from strength to strength. The desire for a life of total obedience that such prayer fosters in us will give new meaning and value to the time we spend alone with God, just as it will provide the motivation and persistence needed to maintain this discipline.

Prayer sustains the motivation we need in order to continue in this discipline. In other words, prayer begets more prayer. It inspires a return to itself. As we commit to its daily practice, our desire will not only be upheld, but it will increase, as will our longing for intimacy with God.

Let your closet be your classroom; let your morning watch be the study hour in which your entire dependence on and submission
to the Holy Spirit is your aim.
-Andrew Murray

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:

1. How do you feel as you read of Andrew Murray’s relationship to his own prayer practice? Do you envy it? Or do you have a similar relationship to this practice from which you feel kindred to his sentiments?
2. What relationship do you experience between your morning prayer (or lack of it) and your subsequent strayings throughout the rest of the day? How does prayer anchor you in your day? Or could the lack of such a foundation be the cause for too much wandering in your life at this time?
3. How do you relate to Murray’s statement that prayer is a “battle field where it is decided every day whether God will have all of us, and whether our life will be one of absolute obedience?” How does this battle, which is won or lost during prayer, affect the outcome of other battles in your life?

FOR PRAYER: Take time to speak with God about your present relationship to the practice of prayer. Tell him what you most enjoy about it as well as what you wish was different. If you do not have such a practice in place, talk to the Lord about your hopes for such in the days to come.