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.

Taken from IMAGO DEI:  Mar. 24^th, 2016 by Rob DeCotes

The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.
I Cor. 15:42-44

It’s impossible to imagine what our heavenly life will look like, but that has never stopped many Christians from trying, including Augustine, the 4th century bishop of Hippo. He concludes his treatise on The City of God with a profound speculation on the state of our resurrected souls. Considering the many burdens of sin that eternal righteousness will relieve us of, he offers hope that informs our Easter celebrations as we look forward to our own resurrection as well.

Augustine highlights the many experiences of grace that the removal of sin will produce in us. No longer tossed to and fro by every wave of impulse, the absence of temptation will result in a natural and eternal state of peace. Augustine describes the quality of such peace saying,

• In that final peace which is the end and purpose of all virtue here on earth, our nature, made whole by incorruption, will have no vices and experience, no rebellion from within or without. God will hold sway over us, and the soul will hold sway over the body. There will be no need for reason to govern the now nonexistent evil inclinations. And the pure happiness that is found in God’s will will make our obedience sweet and easy. In each of us this condition will be everlasting, and we shall know it to be so.

Set free from all that exasperates the spiritual life, we will now experience the goodness of God’s grace in all we do, and in all we are. Augustine expands on this saying, “Who can measure the happiness of heaven , where no evil at all can touch us, and where no good will be out of reach.”

In heaven we will be in right relationship to all things—all things within us, as well as outside us. Peace and the absence of turmoil will be the fruit of our disinclination to anything other than the will of God. As Augustine puts it, “Perfect peace will reign, since nothing in ourselves or in any others could disturb that peace.” No longer encumbered by evil we will be filled with satisfaction and the good fruit of righteous choices. In Augustine’s words,

• The souls in bliss will still possess freedom of will, though sin will have no power to tempt them. They will be more free than ever—so free from all delight in sinning as to find, in not sinning, an unfailing source of joy.

As promised, the benefits of Christ’s virtue will forever grace us. Whatever God commands we will obey, and the peace of living constantly in the light of truth will be our glory. In this, we will experience the Sabbath rest foretold in the book of Hebrews (Heb. 4:9). Our souls, no longer agitated by the turmoil of life, will now enjoy the stillness of grace.

As Isaiah envisioned, we will rejoice with one another on that day.saying, “Surely this is our God; we trusted in Him, and He saved us. This is the LORD, we trusted in Him; let us rejoice and be glad in His salvation” (Isaiah 25:9). Augustine, too, recognizes the gratitude that will rise up in our worship saying,

• Surely, in all that City, nothing will be lovelier than this song of praise for the grace of Christ by whose blood we have been saved. On that day we will rest and see, see and love, love and praise—for this is to be the end of all our living, the real goal of our present life.

Christ has risen indeed! And so shall we. It is our destiny—the lavish gift that God gives to all who simply believe that Jesus is who He said He was, and that He is able to do all He promised He would. In anticipation of this glorious gift of freedom let us rejoice in the spirit of Dr. Martin Luther King’s favorite gospel song, “Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty we are free at last.”

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:

1.         What do you imagine living a life that is “no longer tossed to and fro by every wave of impulse would be like?”  Do you experience glimpses of that peace at times in your present life?  If not, what do you anticipate Christ will free you from that now prevents you from enjoying such peace?

2.         Augustine speaks of a state of soul where “God will hold sway over us, and the soul will hold sway over the body.”  In what ways does your prayer life seem to be leading you in this same direction?

3.         Read Isa. 25:6-9.  How is the personal joy we will experience from the fullness of salvation magnified by the praise that will well up in us corporately as the Body of Christ fully recognizes that that which we have only glimpsed through faith is now a present reality?  What satisfaction and validation of our faith do you anticipate we will experience as we celebrate the fact that “we trusted in Him, and now He has saved us?”

FOR PRAYER:  Imagine yourself in a state of soul where you are “so free from all delight in sinning as to find, in not sinning, an unfailing source of joy.”  Enter that joy in your prayers and rest in the foretaste of the glorious freedom Christ has saved us for (Gal. 5:1).

God loves lavishly, soaking creation with life, and the joyful freedom of God’s love traces the horizon of our joy. That is why the joy we know in the company of God is not dependent on immediate circumstances such as good health, fair wealth, or amiable fellowship. Joy reflects a divine care so broad it enfolds the whole creation, yet so sensitive it registers the fall to earth of a single sparrow (Matt. 10:29). Joy draws its color and intensity from a palette of grace far more splendid than the muted hues that dapple the surface of daily experience.

It is acquaintance with this palette that prompts James to say, “Count it all joy” (James 1:2, RSV). This robust embrace of all facets of experience reveals that the spiritual life is a journey into the fullness of joy, a joy as complete as the love between Jesus and his Father (John 15:9-11; 16:16-24). The author of Hebrews reminds us that “for the sake of the joy that was set before him [Jesus] endured the cross” (Heb. 12:2). So encompassing is this joy that, like a desert sunset, it sheaths in’ gold every stony hour of suffering, every bony tree of our endurance. Paul recalls an experience among the Christians in Macedonia that graphically- portrays the power of joy to transfigure a human land- scape: ”during a severe ordeal of affliction, their abundant joy and their’ extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part” (2 Cor. 8:2). Our companion, guide, and comforter on the great journey into joy is the Holy Spirit. At the outset, it is the Spirit who inspires joy when grace has opened us to receive God’s word (1 Thess. 1:6). Across the years, when life’s perplexities impoverish us, it is the Spirit who, working through the gift of joy, removes all boundaries to our hope (Rom. 15:13).

——]ohn S. Mogabgab, “Editor ’s Introduction,” Warming»: (November/December 1993

With any loss, be it the loss of a loved one, of an opportunity, of material possessions that were dear to us, or of a capacity you no longer have, we naturally experience grief. We have enjoyed a certain gift of life in these areas and now it has been taken away from us, leaving an empty space that, seemingly, nothing can fill.

But there is another spirit that accompanies any grief over a loss, it’s the spirit of gratitude—gratitude for the gifts God gave you through these now-gone features of your life. And both these spirits—loss and gratitude—can find expression simultaneously as part of any grieving process.

Our sense of loss, of course, needs to be acknowledged and be given freedom to find expression in us. But gratitude for the gift of whatever has been lost should also be a part of this expression. It will be the ascending spirit that remembers all the goodness that God has blessed us with in the time we enjoyed His gift.

Our gratitude will redeem our loss from the potential of becoming a deep open wound in us. Instead it will serve as a springboard of praise to God for all that we have received through this temporary gift, as well as the ongoing gifts that can continue for the rest of our lives as we remember the blessings the Lord gave us throughout these.

To remain exclusively in a disposition of loss can possibly lead to a desolation where the natural expressions of grief become inordinately focused on the self and on my personal sense of loss. The obvious antidote to prevent this is the consolation of gratitude which turns our attention more to God than to self.

There is nothing wrong with personal grief unless it becomes our sole disposition. Gratitude for God’s gift to us in the things we have lost will ensure that we see our losses from both sides. And this interplay of grief and gratitude will widen our experience, allowing us to include God more fully as we negotiate our grief.

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:
How do you generally experience loss? Do you find a healthy balance of gratitude and grieving? Or do you find yourself imbalanced in one of these directions?

How might an overfocus on loss lead to a desolation where you become more and more self-focused as a result?

How does gratitude widen the experience of grief to include praise for God? How does it allow that which was lost to continue to minister to you?

FOR PRAYER: Take time to consider some loss in your life where you only have regrets for that which, seemingly, has been taken away from you. Seek and explore expressions of gratitude for the gifts He also provided you with through this same object of lost.

“I am the Way.”    John 14:6

As many of you know I was diagnosed a few years ago with neuroendocrine tumors, a rare, slow-growing and incurable form of cancer (see Neuroendocrine tumor).  It has been a merciful journey so far and I have often had to remind myself that my body is afflicted in this way.  Things have changed however over the past few months and the realities of the evolution of this disease are much more evident to me than in the past.  Fatigue, digestive complications, bronchospasm are all symptoms that I am learning to live with.  I am sharing this because of something important I learned in negotiating this new phase that I think might be of help to others.

I’ve always enjoyed physical activity like swimming, cycling and long walks but, recently, I started noticing how depleted I felt after any strenuous activity.  Dismayed as I was by this sudden change in my energies I found myself scurrying for answers.  Was I doing anything wrong that was contributing to this? Did I need to change my diet?  My medications?  My lifestyle?  In other words, what could I do to get back to “normal?”  As the doctors were not able to give me any conclusive reason for this change I was left with an array of my own theories of what might be causing this and what I might do to “fix” it.

What I am describing here, of course, is the way any of us might feel in this situation, and the likely process we would find ourselves in as we tried to get to the bottom of any deterioration of our health.  But the effect that this type of reasoning was having on me was making me feel more and more alone with this disease.  I was, of course, praying and asking God for help, but more in a way that presumed it was my problem and difficulty to bear rather than something I shared with God.

It was only after seeing my spiritual director that I realized how my obsession with trying to manage this new reality was, in fact, distancing me from God.  The foundational relationship of my life had shifted away from the Lord and was now being established mostly between me and the disease, and what I must do about it.  God, of course, was still part of this narrative but more as an outsider to my problem.

With this helpful reminder I was now able to re-establish the first axis of my life with God and then, together with the Lord, to form a relationship to whatever is going on in my body.  And that has made a world of difference in my relationship to the “problem” I face.  I suspect that this insight regarding the relationships we form with our problems might have many applications for other people.  We can easily establish our first relationship as between us and the trials we face, with God more on the periphery of our dilemma.   Shifting that first axis back to God allows us to approach our difficulties no longer alone, but together with the Lord.

With regards to the changes happening in my body I am now in a much freer posture to either search for a solution, or to accept this as the new norm of my life.  I suspect that, like all of us, I will have to negotiate many other such stages of deterioration in the future.  But I hope I remember this lesson well—that rather than face such threats alone, I do best to remain yoked with Jesus, who walks with me through every strait of life as my moment-to-moment Way.  Today, I once again hear His assuring words, “You are never alone Rob, for we are living every moment of this life together—I in you and you in Me.”

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:

1. In what ways might your obsession with managing your problems be actually distancing you from God?  What signs in your spirit would indicate that this is happening?

2. How do you relate to the posture I describe of “praying and asking God for help, but more in a way that presumed it was my problem and my difficulty to bear rather than something I shared with God?”  What do you lose by imagining God more as an outsider to your problem?

3. What helps you to walk more yoked with the Lord rather than on the periphery of your dilemma?  How can you live more consistently in the truth that Jesus is your Way—that He is walking together with you, through every strait of life?

FOR PRAYER:  Examine the problems you are presently facing and ask the Lord to highlight the ones where you might be obsessing or over-managing to the point of excluding God.  Hear the Lord say to you as well, “You are never alone, for we are living every moment of this life together—I in you, and you in Me.”

So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.   
1Cor. 10:31

If you read enough books by Jesuit authors you will sooner or later come across the acronym A.M.D.G., which stands for Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam. It is a Latin phrase meaning “for the greater glory of God,” which is a key notion of Ignatian spirituality.
The concept itself is easy enough to understand: that everything we do, think or say should be for the increase of God’s glory on earth. But what exactly do we mean by this?.  And how do we know which options truly lead to God’s greater glory on earth?”
Living according to the “greater glory of God” is not necessarily understood as more works, projects or undertakings, but rather as whatever will produce a “greater” dividend for the advancement and deepening of God’s kingdom in us, and in the world.  It is not about how much I can accomplish for God, but more how God can increasingly live and take initiative in and through me.  As such, it implies more surrender on my part, more submission, more availability and more obedience to God’s immediate will in my life.  The Jesuits refer to this as making yourself more “disposable” to God’s action in and through you.

This foundational objective of Ignatian spirituality is perhaps best summarized in the two prayers that follow.  The first was written by Kirk Roberts, a student at Jesuit High School in Tampa, Florida.  It expresses the basic premise of his life, as well as his need for God’s help in order to live that life to which he feels called.  He prays:

Life is given to me for one reason:
That I might live for the greater glory of God.
Yet I spend most of my life unconcerned with this;
I waste it on petty things.
God, please grant me clear vision,
The vision to work for the greater glory of your name.
Please help me to wake up each morning with this in mind.
Help me to clear my mind of minor details that only distract me from my purpose.
Keep away the indifference that fogs humankind.
Point me to where your people need help
So that your vision for me may be fulfilled.

Such radical “disposability” to God’s action is exemplary for any of us.  We see a similar disposition expressed in Ignatius’ “Suscipe” (“receive”) prayer found at the end of The Spiritual Exercises.  It is a prayer of self-offering—the victorious prayer of someone who has conquered within themselves all resistance to God’s claim on their life.  Giving himself as fully as he can to God’s service Ignatius prays,

• Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will. All I have and possess, you have given to me.  I return it all to you and surrender it wholly to your will. Give me only your love and grace for that is sufficient for me.

How given are we to God’s initiatives in our day?  How do we love?  How do we serve?  And how do we allow God to extend, through us, His presence in the world?  In other words how are we living our lives “ad majorem dei gloriam?”  These are good questions with which to begin the new year.  Let them provide opportunity for us, at the threshold of this new chapter, to renew our act of offering as we give our lives more fully, through Christ, “for the greater glory of God.”

Rob Des Cotes
Imago Dei Christian Communities

FOR GROUP DISCUSSION:

1. What choices have you made in the past year that were motivated by a desire to do whatever was “for the greater glory of God?”  What choices perhaps diminished the possibility of God’s initiative in or through you?

2. How can you, in the coming year, make yourself more “disposable” to God’s action in and through your life?  What changes would you have to make in order for this to be so?

3. Take time, alone or in a group, to write a prayer of self-offering to God, acknowledging both your desire as well as your need for God’s help in order to live the spiritual life you feel called to.

FOR PRAYER:  Use the two prayers in this meditation as the basis for your own prayer—one that expresses your desire and needs, the other that represents the radical self-offering of your life to God.