On Sharing Experiences of Mystical Prayer

[[Sister, is it common for hermits to have mystical prayer experiences? I read about one of these that you wrote about but I couldn't find others. I have had a couple of very intense and amazing prayer experiences, but I am finding it hard to share these with others! Is that why you don't write about these very much or do you not have them?]]

I don't know how common mystical prayer experiences are among hermits. Still, given the fact that hermits are contemplatives and contemplatives pray regularly, intensely, and even in a relatively pervasive way where every activity is marked by openness, attentiveness, and responsiveness to God, I would expect to see mystical prayer experiences with some regularity. This regularity is not the same as frequency, though. Because I accept that mysticism is a function of openness and attentiveness to Divine Mystery (the source of the term mystical), I also believe that those who pray regularly and seriously will have mystical experiences, though they may well be few and far between. As I understand matters, authentic mystical prayer experiences are a part or subset of contemplative prayer and associated experiences. This means that ordinarily, they come only with consistent and persistent practice, and even then, they are gratuitous --- a free gift of Godself.

I don't speak much about mystical prayer experiences because these are, 1) a very personal and intimate part of my life, 2) a gift of God who chooses to come to me in this way in specific circumstances, and 3) these are only helpful to share in limited situations. I also 4) never want to give the impression that God has created me differently from others or that God loves me more or even particularly differently than God loves others. For this reason, I cannot accept that some people are born mystics or that they have mystical experiences because God loves them in a vastly different way than he loves everyone else. Thus, I believe that God wills to give himself to every person in this way and that one needs to develop one's openness, attentiveness, and responsiveness to God in the persevering practices of prayer and penance. This also means that I believe God's truly remarkable gifts must be matched by patience, authentic humility, and discretion.

Your questions about my not speaking about mystical experiences point directly to the demand for humility and discretion.  I believe without these two qualities in particular, speaking about such experiences can morph into bragging, arrogance, and the subtle or not-so-subtle denigration of "ordinary" spirituality and "ordinary" prayer experiences or those who have not had and may not believe they are meant to have such experiences. In some people, these kinds of experiences are reported with what seems to approach a sense of entitlement! I say this because the sense of awe for such experiences, if it ever truly existed, slips away. At least it is not expressed when these experiences are spoken of by some. What comes across, unfortunately, is a privileged mindset where the entirely gratuitous ways God comes to any human person are rendered either routine or elitist.

One of the greatest gifts God gave me years ago, is the sense that I am the same as everyone else. At the same time, and paradoxically, this does not conflict with personal limitations or giftedness; instead, it contextualizes these and provides a perspective from which I can regard and either deal with or, perhaps, use them for the sake of others. This awareness of my sameness, along with my sense that it is a real grace of God, colors both my systematic and mystical theologies. It helps me to appreciate what God wills for every person; it also sensitizes me to those persons whose "prayer" experiences are (purportedly at least) always larger than life and peopled with characters and events drawn from dated hagiographies that in significant respects, and for entirely valid reasons, are less than edifying today. 

In other words, we can't blame an "increasingly secular" culture for the fact that these accounts strike others as irrelevant at best and destructive of genuine faith or even pathological at worst. Rather than being a reverent reminiscence of an intimate encounter with God that is usually most properly discussed with one's spiritual director, a very good friend, or one's confessor, this sometimes-seen practice of announcing one's mystical experiences far and wide reminds me more of a carnival barker calling attention to circus acts. Such "barking" can cause even the most genuine of experiences to seem "inauthentic" and be off-putting. In the case of mystical prayer experiences, less is definitely more. Thus, though you have certainly not described anything excessive in your own situation, I would still encourage you not to share these experiences with just anyone and everyone, tempting though that will sometimes be; when the right person, place, and time comes to share, you will recognize it. Just remember, patience, humility, and discretion!! This is the way we truly praise God and thank him for loving us so well.

On Mystical Experiences that Disrupt Liturgy and Alienate one From the Sacraments

[[Dear Sister, I would like to raise the question of what happens if someone’s “mystical experiences” alienate her from the sacraments and disrupt the liturgy, are they really of God?]]

Authentic Mystical experiences are generally associated with prayer. They should not alienate one from the sacraments or disrupt liturgy which are  at the heart of one's prayer. Ordinarily one chooses the way one will pray. What I mean by this is if one occasionally wants to allow oneself to sink into quiet prayer during a liturgy, one can do that if one is practiced at doing this at other times or feels called to do so. Mystical states are something different, however. In these states, God acts to take one beyond where they are used to going in regular practiced prayer, even quiet prayer. However, two things will remain true about these periods: 1) they should not disrupt the liturgy which calls for appropriate participation, and 2) if one doesn't wish them to happen they will not. God does not force us into mystical states if we are not open to them or if they are inappropriate for the setting. I think this is particularly true in a parish setting. 

You may be aware that recently a lay hermit has claimed she invariably has mystical states during liturgy (Eucharist) and she claims to no longer come to Mass because she becomes an occasion of sin for people there. I believe there are several serious problems with this analysis, and it is not sufficient to respond to these by saying "this is mystical and no one understands such things today". First, the states are said to be invariable, happening at the same place and in the same way at each liturgy. God is eternal and entirely faithful, but God is not invariable nor are prayer states he empowers within us. Moreover, significant prayer experiences are rich in content and they require time to process. It is unlikely that God would have prayer experience after prayer experience in an invariable way without the time and space to process and truly appreciate them. This actually makes them less important and less revealing; in other words, it trivializes them and calls attention to the subject having the experiences, rather than to the God who is supposed to be empowering them. What some have found to be true about authentic experiences is that a single significant "mystical" prayer experience can nourish one for the rest of one's life, so I personally disagree that this daily (or every Mass) pattern is of God.

Then we have the question of what is edifying to others and to the community as a whole. While I might very occasionally drop into more extended quiet prayer during a Mass (not an ecstasy!!), I can't do that without reassuring the persons seated with me ahead of time that I am okay should I choose to do this. I also recognize that I am a member of a praying community and for that reason, I am generally called to pray with them as we are each asked to pray together during liturgy. To do anything else (except very occasionally and in genuine need) seems to me to be a reason for staying home and praying in whatever way I feel called to. Otherwise, it is simply disedifying and potentially disturbing to my community. Finally, we have the problem of determining that these "states" are occasions of sin for someone else --- which, of course, we can never do. A person may react in a way one does not care for, especially if they are worried and don't know what is happening to us, but one does not know their motivation. One cannot know another person's heart except to the extent they reveal it to one. Even if one senses that the person is irritated or outright angry about something, one still does not know whether or not this is sinful. If the person having these "ecstatic" states is led to sin herself, then she must speak to her pastor, director, or confessor, and find a way that deals adequately with this; she can be aware of and speak of her own sin, but she cannot presume to know anyone else's.

The question of alienation from the sacraments is an important one. Personally, I find it impossible to believe that God would cause something that alienates the person from participation in and reception of the Sacraments in a general way. Why would he call one to become a member of Christ's body and then act in a way that disallows participation in that body as the Church (even minimally) requires?! Some accommodations can certainly be made in the case of illness or other extraordinary conditions, and I don't know a single pastor, priest, or other minister who would not seriously try to find such reasonable accommodations. I have a seizure disorder that is triggered by certain sounds (including some cell phone ringtones). My parish community, especially the daily Mass crew has always been very careful to be sure and leave phones in the car or at home or at least on vibrate once they understood the need. (Yes, sometimes there were slip-ups or someone new had not heard the caution yet, but generally speaking, people were really caring and responsive in this!) During Sunday liturgy, if seizure activity was a frequent problem I could have stayed in the sacristy to hear Mass, whether alone or with a friend, or I might simply have needed to stay home!

In the situation raised here, I believe that this alienation from the sacraments is feeding an essentially Gnostic approach to reality that divides it too absolutely into a spiritual (eternal) and temporal duality and leads toa spirituality that unduly maligns the temporal. (This (ancient) Gnostic duality or approach to reality also feeds alienation from what is being called "the temporal Church" and its sacramentality as well.) Given the centrality of the Incarnation along with the bodiliness of both the resurrection and the Ascension (and Mary's Assumption as well), along with the theology of the new heaven and earth where creation and God's space already partly and will one day wholly interpenetrate one another, I think this is particularly dangerous.

EEMs can always bring Communion to a person who cannot attend Mass for some valid reason. Some churches with cry rooms (or unused choir lofts, etc.) can allow someone to attend Mass from there if they need to. Ecstatic prayer is ordinarily very silent (in fact, it is awesomely profound in its silence!) so I am not sure that much accommodation is necessary if one sits at the back of the church and simply prays quietly. In other words, alienation from the Sacraments is unnecessary and unlikely to be of God. Neither, however, does this need to disrupt liturgy. Of course, if someone is making noises, crying out in pain or something, or proclaiming they can read a priest's heart in the middle of Mass, then this is objectively disedifying and not of God. In such cases, I can understand why folks might be upset and pastors might prefer the person to stay home. Still, accommodations can and will generally be made for such a person or situation. They still have rights and obligations rooted in their baptism and the Church will (must!) help find a way for the person to meet these.

On the Consecration of Ukraine and Russia and the Importance of Contemplative and Mystical Prayer

Friday on the Feast of the Anunciation, Pope Francis had asked every Catholic in every home,  parish, or diocese in the entire Church to join him in consecrating Ukraine and Russia to God in the Immaculate Heart of Mary. I was doing a Communion service for my small daily Mass community and so, I spent some time working out how to give the consecration a significant place while maintaining the importance of the liturgies of the Word and Table/Altar. I chose to follow the homily with the consecration and developed my comments on the readings to specifically allow for this. For the consecration portion of things we began, therefore, with the kiss of peace (we ordinarily do it before coming around the altar so this was not a very major change); here we focused on the prayer we would be doing together in just a few minutes at Pope Francis' request. Reconciliation and peace were needed for this ecclesial work. Many small yes's can have great consequences.

Then we sat for a relatively brief period of silence and quiet prayer. I asked everyone to imagine all the larger and smaller yes's they had said to God throughout their lives, as well as all the yes's the world still needed us to make for the sake of peace and the well-being of our world. Imagine, I suggested, the entire communion of Saints joining us in this quiet prayer. Imagine all the pictures broadcast of the war in the Ukraine or anywhere else. Folks entered into this period deeply and supported one another in this silence as we all readied and allowed God to ready our own hearts for the consecration. And then we prayed a portion of the long prayer Pope Francis had supplied. It began with the sentence, [[At this hour, a weary and distraught humanity stands with you beneath the cross, needing to entrust itself to you, and through you, to consecrate itself to Christ. The people of Ukraine and Russia, who venerate you with a great love.]]

The decision to precede the actual prayer of consecration first with the kiss of peace with its implicit and explicit focus on reconciliation and peace, and then with a period of quiet and/or contemplative prayer was rooted in my sense that all real peace requires that we each be a contemplative presence to one another and to the world as a whole. This sense is something women religious the world over, whether from ministerial or contemplative institutes foster in their own religious families, ministries, meetings, and encounters of all sorts. And, of course, it is symbolic of the way hermit life itself is disposed and empowered to encounter the larger world. The stricter separation we embrace is done so that we can be made entirely whole in union with God and moreover, that we do this on behalf of the world around us which we encounter and to whom we witness for its own salvation.

As Thomas Merton affirms in "The Contemplative Life in the Modern World," [[Contemplative wisdom is then not simply an aesthetic extrapolation of certain intellectual or dogmatic principles, but a living contact with the infinite Source of all being, a contact not only of minds and hearts, not only of I and Thou, but a transcendent union on consciousness in which man and God become, according to the expression of St Paul, 'one spirit.'"  and as he also says, [[What needs to be made clear. . .is that contemplation is not a deepening of experience only, but a radical change in one's way of being and living, and the essence of that change is precisely a liberation from dependence on external means to external ends.]] And this change is not for ourselves only. We are freed by God from this world and enabled to live in it, not as ourselves alone, but as beings in union with God, beings able to love as God loves. Mystical experiences, wonderful as they may be, are never the measure of the mystic. Instead, that call to be  made complete in God and to love our world into wholeness is precisely the reason for contemplative prayer including even the highest reaches of mystical prayer.

Merton writes: [[The mission of the contemplative in this world of massive conflict and collective unreason, is to seek the true way of unity and peace, without succumbing to the illusion of withdrawal into a realm of abstraction from which unpleasant realities are simply excluded by force of will. In facing the world with a totally different viewpoint, he maintains alive in the world the presence of a spiritual and intelligent consciousness which is the root of true peace and true unity among men.

And so, we began our approach to the consecration Friday with the Word of God, a kiss of peace for one another, and a period of quiet/contemplative prayer where the reality of a weary and distraught humanity were brought right into our small chapel in the silence of solitary hearts we allowed to be opened wider (remade) together for the purpose. I wrote in the last post that [[it is absolutely fascinating to me how it is a mystic's infused contemplation takes them out of this world and out of any dependence on self to dependence on God alone precisely so they can live in this world, as a source of peace. The very thing that seems to make mystics/contemplatives stand apart and marks their experiences in prayer as incommunicable and uncommon, recreates and sends them back to "the world" as those who can encounter it as prophetic missionaries of God's (own) peace and wholeness.]]

I think the idea of the mystical way and mystical prayer, and especially mystical experiences always takes one through lesser forms of community with all of their differences, variations, and disparities to a place of really radical difference. But it is done so that we may return to others with the hearts of mystics, those who love as God loves and are therefore capable of bringing even implacable enemies together in peace. In my homily Friday I noted that in Bible study we had been talking about faith as a form of courage and commitment that is capable of overcoming doubt, not by destroying it, but by taking it inside itself and moving forward in spite of doubt. What is true of a Faith that is capable of taking doubt and fear up within itself is that it is infinitely stronger and more resilient than an absolute certainty with no room for these things; after all, at the least instance of doubt, this kind of (absolute) certainty will shatter. Mary's own journey was a journey of faith. It was about faith which grew by taking her very real doubts and fears inside itself and, in God's love, courageously, trustingly, moving forward into a world she would help change forever. 

Mary's smaller and larger yes's  (and Jesus', of course) would transform her world with God's own presence!! Her Fiat and all the smaller and larger yes's that both preceded and would follow it, her experiences of communion and union with God made her life fruitful beyond all imagining. More, it set her apart, transformed, freed, and established her in both her difference and sameness as made for the sake of a new encounter between God and the whole of his creation. As I also noted in the previous post, it is the same dynamic which stands at the heart of all infused contemplation as well as eremitical life's "stricter separation from the world." As I mentioned earlier, when we spoke about eremitical life, contemplation, Elizabeth of the Trinity, and the coming consecration, a friend -- another diocesan hermit -- joyfully affirmed, [[It is all about encounter!!]]. Contemplation, mystical prayer, even the hermit's stricter separation from the world, are about encounter for the sake of God and all God holds as precious!! And so, our service Friday ended with the commissioning prayer: [[Let us go forth to love our world into wholeness!]] It is the prayer of sending I usually use, but on this Friday it seemed especially appropriate.

Follow Up on Hermits, Contemplatives and Mystics?

[[Sister Laurel, can you provide a link to the person whose blog was being referred to in the post on Hermits: Contemplatives and Mystics? I would like to check out what he says for myself. Thank you for that. I have done a lot of reading about mysticism and mystics and my understanding tends to comport with yours, that is, we are all created for and called to union with God and at the same time only God can take hold of us in the way that happens in what St Teresa of Avila calls infused contemplation, but especially mystical betrothal, and mystical marriage for example. I don't know what it would mean to say a mystic is born but if that's true, either one is born a mystic, or one can't ever become one [and mystical prayer would be closed to one for the whole of one's life] **. I don't think John of the Cross, Teresa of Avila, St Francis of Assisi, Angela of Foligno, or Therese of Lisieux were born mystics but no one suggests they did not become mystics even if God was the one who made it happen!]]

Yes, I will get the link for you --- at least to the blog itself if not to specific posts being referenced.

I also agree that mystics aren't born but in fact are "made" (by God, of course) --- though again, I believe every person created by God has the potential for mystical prayer. One passage in David Knowles' book, What is Mysticism? makes me chuckle because by using St Teresa's encouragement of her Sisters to persist in their efforts to reach what is sometimes called the prayer of recollection, (she says it will only take a year, maybe six months), Knowles underscores the place of growth in prayer in the "mystical path", and by implication in contemplative prayer and then mystical prayer. 

He explains, [[The assertion of Teresa that it can be acquired must not be taken to mean that, like bicycling or swimming, it merely needs a short instruction and some practice. St Teresa may have misled some by her somewhat offhand empirical assertion that it can be acquired in a year or six months. We may forget that she herself spent fifteen years when prayer was tedious to her and that she has already described at length the first stage of prayer, its difficulties and distractions, the need for serious resolve and the absolute sacrifice of all else save God.]] and then Knowles continues, [[ It is only when the prayer of recollection has become settled and pure, maintained through aridities and distractions for long, that it can be regarded as in any sense a disposition for infused contemplation.]] (emphasis added)

When Teresa speaks of the deeper forms of prayer moving from recollection and beginning with the prayer of quiet, Knowles indicates how very different her language is: [[This prayer [she writes] is something supernatural to which no effort of our own can raise us, because here the soul rests in peace --- or rather, our Lord gives it peace by his presence.]] Another example from Teresa, [[We cannot make the day break, nor can we stop the night from coming on. This prayer is no work of ours: it is supernatural and utterly beyond our control.]] Of course, we cannot cause infused contemplation or mystical prayer; again, they are the work of God, but we can dispose ourselves toward this gift, or rather, these gifts. One can hardly do that if one is either born a mystic or not, period. On the one hand (if one is born a mystic) all the hard work of prayer and growth in the virtues is irrelevant and on the other (if one is not born a mystic) it all becomes essentially futile even as a way of disposing the soul to God's immediate intervention.

Throughout his work David Knowles refers to the "Mystic path" or to "mystical prayer" (Op Cit., p.81, apparently not a nonsensical or [[insensible]] word at all) and he speaks of a process during which prayer becomes [[gradually less and less a matter of words or motions of the will and more and more simple loving attention to God, until this too merges into a new realization or experience of the presence of God in the soul, with its accompaniment of a new knowledge and love of God which do not come from any purely human thought or motion. Herein is the beginning of the mystical life.]] (emphasis added) And then Knowles cites Teresa again, [[ Herein there is nothing to be afraid of, but everything to hope for]]. . .[[prayer is the door to those great graces which our Lord bestowed on me. If this door be shut, I do not see how he can bestow them.]] and again, [[How must one begin? I maintain that this is the chief point; in fact, that everything depends on their having a great and most resolute determination never to halt until they reach their journey's end, happen what may, whatever the consequences are, cost what it will, let who will blame them, whether they reach the goal or die on the road, or lose heart to bear the trials they encounter, or the earth itself goes to pieces beneath their feet.]] (emphasis added throughout)

In all of this and so much more we are dealing with the paradox that the mystic way or the way of mystical prayer, which means the way of a mystic, in fact requires effort and often long effort in prayer or "friendship with God" even as mystical prayer itself is the complete and immediate gift of God himself. Words failed Teresa and she worked out terms for various prayer forms over time (though she still wrote marvelously about all of this), just as words failed John of the Cross (it is hard to think of his Spiritual Canticle as a failure of words but it is!!) because of both the incommensurability of the experience and the ineffability of God. Still, they also succeeded so that even when Teresa takes pains to indicate something is not supernatural (or infused or mystical) prayer, there is the implication that there are forms of prayer which are these things!! I guess I understand mystics as those who are gifted by God with mystical prayer (i.e., an immediate experience of God's presence and union with God). As far as I can tell, no scholar of mystical theology and no mystic, especially Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, but I think also Elizabeth of the Trinity who I am reading now, believes one is born a mystic, though of course, they would all affirm we are created for union with God.  

Here is a link to the latest post in the blog referenced in the earlier question and post: Mystics are born Mystics. Please note that the author (MC) recommends David Knowles' book as a good place to start!! For that reason I referred to him above. Unfortunately, though I have read this book at least a couple of times, I can't remember or (now) locate even one place where he argues mystics are born not made, particularly as this position is opposed to the rest of what is cited above. Perhaps someone knowledgeable re where this is found might provide the citation. Knowles' book itself, by the way, is described on the cover (or dust jacket) as [[set(ting) out, in a very short compass and with remarkable lucidity, the traditional explanation of the mystical life as the fullness of the life of grace. Prof Knowles illustrates the mystical (or contemplative) life from the great English mystics of the Middle Ages. . . [to] Elizabeth of the Trinity in the present century.]] This surely says the mystical and the contemplative life are of a piece, no? 

Another necessary piece of this discussion which I have not seen in MC's blogs (unless she is writing about c 603, which is of primary interest or concern to me, I tend not to read her much so I could well have missed this) --- but what I have not seen even in the most recent posts arguing her position here is an actual definition of the term mystic. It is important to understand, I think, how she is using the term (besides calling it an "affliction like Autism or Cerebral palsy" which causes mystics to "pray to be normal"). If a mystic is born, then what constitutes a mystic? Is it the secondary or accidental qualities of visions, locutions, stigmata, levitation, and the like or is it, as all mystics seem to say, the result of union with God (i.e., the fulfillment of a life of grace) which requires a long apprenticeship in prayer? Just one more piece of the puzzle I would like clarified myself by MC or others who disagree with what I have written.

** thanks to the questioner for sending on the clarification added to the question above. I agree it is helpful.

Called to Contemplative Life and Mystical Prayer? What next?

Dear Sister Laurel, I believe I might be called to contemplative life and mystical prayer. Is that possible? I mean in today's day and age I don't hear about either of these much, especially the latter. I wonder how I should go about responding to this call (these calls?). Is it even possible today? Do I need to become a hermit to do this? Can I marry? (I am not sure if I even want to marry, but I don't think I want to be a hermit.) I hope you can point me in the right direction here. Thanks!!

Thanks for these questions. First, yes, though I don't know anything more about you than your questions indicate, it is entirely possible that you are called to contemplative life and mystical prayer. While we don't hear a lot about mystical prayer today, it does exist and (if you know the right people!!) is a vital stream in the contemplative tradition today. Our church stresses apostolic ministry today more than contemplative life and most folks will find themselves involved in active ministry with prayer lives that support them in this. Some of these, especially religious women and men, however (the group I know best perhaps), develop strong contemplative prayer lives to anchor their active ministries and more, to fulfill their vows and vocation as religious. Many of these I think, especially as they age and "retire", allow themselves to focus on developing their contemplative prayer and some of these (perhaps a significant number even) will move through the various stages of prayer Teresa of Avila, for instance, outlined. Their prayer becomes profoundly mystical as God draws them ever deeper into His own life and heart. And then, of course, some of us are hermits!!

Since you asked, however, no, you don't need to be a hermit for this (though I personally find it a natural context for growth in contemplative life and mystical prayer), and while I think you could well be married, I personally believe it might be difficult to manage both loves at once. Again, this is a personal opinion; I am not sure about this since I know women religious who manage their community and ministerial commitments just fine, along with some significant friendships, even as they pursue the deepening of contemplative and mystical prayer lives. My one suggestion to you is that you find a good spiritual director with whom you can work regularly. S/he should be essentially contemplative and knowledgeable about working with contemplatives at various stages of prayer, especially if mystical experiences are a part of the directee's prayer life. At the very least, s/he should be open to accompanying someone in and through such stages and expressions of deepening contemplative prayer; this requires a specialized kind of experience and learning both in prayer and in spiritual direction. Remember that mystical prayer is, first and last, about one's relationship with the Mystery we know as God (in Christ); a director should be profoundly rooted in such a relationship herself (or himself).

If there is a Carmelite Monastery near you (or relatively near), you might check with them and see if any of their Sisters or Friars do spiritual direction. Of course, other congregations will be able to assist you in this matter as well; apostolic congregations tend to nurture contemplative prayer these days as well. What is true, however, is that not every person doing spiritual direction today will have either the experience or the education and training to accompany you if you are truly called to mystical prayer. (Note that each one of us is called to union with God which implies we are each made for mystical prayer; it is not, however, easily cultivated and/or a gift easily received.) You are looking for someone who can accompany you in direction for some period of time, and who can assist you in discerning the movements of the Spirit, but especially as these are evident in invitations to greater depth and intimacy with God. Such persons would be able to accompany you even if you discover you are not called to contemplative life or mystical prayer.

On Prayer: Visions and Locutions?

[[Hi Sister Laurel, I wondered if it is unusual to have visions and locutions during prayer. Do these happen to you or to people you direct? Some people believe these kinds of experiences mean the one experiencing them is a mystic and exceptionally loved by God. Do only contemplatives have these kinds of experiences? I wondered if maybe I might have such experiences and I am not a contemplative.]]

Thanks for your questions. I need to parse the meaning of words like "unusual", vision, and locution to answer you. Visions ordinarily mean that God comes to one in a visual way, within one's own mind and often using the contents of one's own mind to "furnish" the vision. They are not ordinarily external to us as though we are looking at a scene standing entirely outside ourselves; at the same time they transcend us and do not find their source in us but in God. Locutions ordinarily mean that God comes to us in an audible way, though again within our minds. Such locutions tend to be fairly brief, a single sentence, couplet, or a couple/few words only. I have not had nor have I heard from people I know who have experienced long soliloquies or speeches, and personally, I tend to distrust accounts of such long-winded experiences as being truly of God.

Not everyone has such experiences and that makes them relatively unusual. They also tend to be vivid and memorable -- although I tend to write mine down (journal) immediately so I may return to them and pay greater attention to aspects I missed or may forget when recounting them -- say, for my director, for instance. This makes them stand out from the rest of my prayer so in that sense they are also unusual. Finally, they are occasional, not frequent because they are so rich and require time to be processed and appreciated; in this sense too they are unusual. `If, however, you mean do they indicate something unusual (aberrant) in the person's prayer life, that the person's prayer life is extraordinary or exceptional except in the ways I have already indicated, I would say no; they are a significant part of a serious prayer life, but one doesn't need to be some sort of spiritual savant to have such occasional or fairly infrequent experiences.

It once was thought that contemplative prayer itself was only open to a privileged few and that experiences like those you ask about were open to only a very few among those. Today we know that anyone with sufficient leisure and commitment can learn to pray and live contemplatively, and we encourage folks to learn to do so. Spiritual direction can be helpful here and is a ministry open to anyone desiring to take advantage of it. Similarly, visions and locutions as I have described them can be accessible to anyone who prays regularly, reads Scripture, and takes time to do lectio daily, or at least regularly. (These practices shape our minds and hearts  and prepare us for the kinds of experiences we are talking about. Such experiences, when they are genuine, are manifestations of God but ordinarily the ground needs to be prepared for this. I do not believe God loves those who have such experiences more than God loves any other person; we are all exceptionally even infinitely loved by God and thus, we all have the potential for such experiences of God's love.)

As noted regarding my own experiences, yes I have such. They are not necessarily frequent but they do tend to be pivotal and serve as moments of profound healing/reconciliation, sources of understanding and strength, and always they convey a sense of promise regarding my own life with God in Christ and often the life of others and our world more generally. I don't think they are more important than the rest of my prayer (in some ways they are less!) but they tend to function as significant markers along the way of that prayer. And regarding the possibility that you might have such experiences, please know that in prayer we ordinarily don't focus on or look for experiences. I know it is easy to desire such experiences; it can be problematical to expect such experiences and is certainly healthier spiritually if we approach prayer as God's work/active presence within us which we ordinarily do not immediately sense at all. God transcends what we can experience so we need to be cautious in regard to such things. I can only encourage you to pray regularly and give God time and space in your life to do whatever God wills to do. If you can do this and gradually become a contemplative, you might well occasionally experience God in these less usual ways. Paradoxically, because they are associated with humility and love (both our own and God's), they may happen when you are least concerned with them. I hope this is helpful.

Followup on the Prayer Lives of Hermits

Dear Sister Laurel, I wanted to thank you for what you wrote about the prayer lives of hermits. As someone trying to become a lay hermit and write my own Rule I found your recent post on this very helpful. I have also been led to look at what you have written about "stricter separation from the world" by your comments on using pious practices to cover over what is really worldliness: 

[[One journals and talks with her director to see if she might be using one form of prayer to avoid something else --- that profound listening that requires one be in touch with her deepest heart, for instance, or monastic leisure and letting go of the need to "produce" or do rather than be. These latter difficulties are or can be reflections of the worldliness that follows us into the hermitage so we must not simply slap a pious practice over it and think we have "left the world" or begun to truly pray as a hermit in so doing. (It is the case that even certain practices in prayer, certain affectations or attachments may be more worldly than not.)]]

I have always thought that any prayer is a way of combating worldliness but I guess in the contemplative life that really may not be so. Can you please say more about this? Thank you.]]

Yes, when I wrote that I was thinking of, several things. First, and most incidentally or tangentially, there was a phrase I personally hate, namely that of "prayer warrior." So let me dispense with this piece of things before moving on to my more central concerns. Often I have seen the all-too-human desires for control, power, or fear translated into prayer-as-weapon. The idea of storming heaven with our prayers causes me to cringe because when you scratch the pious veneer off of the practice there is an idea of controlling God, getting God to take notice, a desire to recruit God to "our" side of some belligerence, etc. This is all very far removed from the contemplative prayer of hermits or a love that makes whole, for instance, and while I believe we all ought to lend our hearts and minds in support of the concerns and needs of our brothers and sisters (which is what intercessory prayer allows), I don't think any genuine prayer can be about getting God's attention (which does not mean we should not pour out our profound sense of need!!), attempting to control God, convincing God with our needs, bargaining, etc. I do think that this tendency in our prayer can be considered a form of worldliness and needs to be relinquished or otherwise outgrown.

The same is true of the second issue I had in mind, namely, treating prayer as a busy-making, productive activity in a world which is all about doing, making, producing and never enough about truly being, much less being truly ourselves and resting in God! If prayer is conceived of as a pious undertaking of our own doing, even if it involves pleading on behalf of others, we may well simply be perpetuating a very worldly pattern of self-assertion and the inability or even outright refusal to listen. I think it is essential to pour out our hearts to God, that is, to open every concern to Him and allow him to touch, hallow, and make that same heart one. Likewise I believe that in pouring out our hearts we mediate God's love to those we carry in those same hearts. Even so, we can do this in silence trusting that God will find his way into all of the nooks and crannies of our hearts, that he will move us to pour ourselves out to him, and that generally all we can provide (which we still do by God's grace) is our permission in what is really God's own work and movement. To treat prayer otherwise may be to perpetuate a worldliness that resists such utter dependence, is allergic to silence, and seeks to make prayer a work we succeed (or at least attempt to succeed) at ourselves.

A third thing I was thinking of when I made that comment was the tendency I sometimes see in those who would be hermits. Too often isolation and eccentricity are "baptized" by these folks with the title "hermit." Instead of working on the personal changes that need to be made so that one may overcome continuing occasions of alienation and rejection, these are "consecrated" with the notion that God desires these things or even that he causes or accomplishes them in one's life. But individualism, avoidance of conversion, and self-justification are pretty worldly attitudes and behaviors and to affirm that God desires (or even causes) their exacerbation rather than their healing and redemption in the name of mysticism, eremitism, or a "victim soul spirituality" is to slap a pious label on something which is worldly in the most destructive way. Self-described hermits may really be more about this kind of worldliness than they are about eremitical solitude --- which is being alone with God for the sake of others. It is ironic that the eremitical life as the Church understands it is NOT a good solution (much less vocation!) for those who refuse to be related to others. Because eremitical solitude is partly about loving others IN God (it is first of all about dwelling in God for God's own sake), isolation and a failure to love in concrete ways are actually antithetical to eremitical solitude.

Finally, I was thinking of those who pretend to be mystics or contemplatives. This can happen for many reasons but whether it occurs because this is thought to be a "higher" form of prayer, or because it allows them to opt out of the demanding commission given to every Christian to help build the Kingdom and participate in some integral way in the Body of Christ, it is worldly. If it occurs because it saves them from the everyday toil of maturing spiritually (humanly) or  learning to pray and to allow God to work in and with one, or because pseudo-mystical experiences are distracting from the pain of loss, rejection, alienation, illness, etc, or simply because they make the person feel special and loved (which, when authentic, of course these can and do, but in a way which produces incredible  fruit for others) --- these (inauthentic experiences) too are simply entirely worldly ways of living over which pious labels or activities have been plastered. Especially in contemplative life (and particularly when this is marked by mystical prayer) one must learn to really pray, learn to genuinely and wholly give oneself over to God in true humility. During this process one will experience tedium, boredom, a sense that one is getting nowhere in prayer, etc. In such instances to go back to an earlier form of prayer which was exciting or fulfilling in an attempt to avoid the difficulties of the present stage of growth is another version of a worldliness which eschews dependence on God, powerlessness, darkness or a lack of understanding and control, and certainly boredom or tedium of any sort.

It is simply all-too-easy to carry over attitudes and ways of approaching reality which are indeed worldly into our prayer -- and to do so in ways which are meant to protect these. Attempts to impress, to show only our best selves, to stand on our own merits, to succeed, to speak eloquently (when we ought to listen) or not at all (when we are called to speak up!), to create a prayer-as-achievement or settle for prayer experiences rather than to be a prayer, to be distracted from pain or to embrace an irresponsible quietism, to justify a refusal to be well (or to work toward wellness) by choosing isolation in the name of victimhood  or eremitical life, to mask anger and bitterness (especially at God!) under a layer of the language and thought of pseudo mystical misery and a distorted theology of suffering --- all of these and many more can be ways of what I described as trying to [[slap a pious practice over [something which is really worldly] and think we have "left the world" or begun to truly pray as a hermit in so doing.]] 

As I have written before, one of the really critical mistakes beginning hermits make is to believe they leave "the world" simply by shutting the door of their hermitage on everything outside it.  That simply makes of the hermitage a particularly dishonest (or deluded) outpost of the world one is seeking to redeem. But to really leave "the world" behind means to leave those attitudes and behaviors which are so much a part of the way we have been acculturated to think, perceive, and judge while we allow our hearts and minds to be entirely remade by God. When this happens, the hermitage becomes what one friend reminded me it should be, namely, a place where the cries and anguish of the world are truly heard --- and, I would add, where they are taken up into the very heart of God through the hermit's heart at prayer.

As a kind of postscript, please remember a couple of the things Merton says about "the world" and the danger of hypostasizing it. I have cited these before: "The way to find the real 'world' is not merely to measure and observe what is outside us, but to discover our own inner ground. For that is where the world is, first of all: in my deepest self.. . . This 'ground', this 'world' where I am mysteriously present at once to my own self and to the freedoms of all other men, is not a visible, objective and determined structure with fixed laws and demands. It is a living and self-creating mystery of which I am myself a part, to which I am myself my own unique door. When I find the world in my own ground, it is impossible for me to be alienated by it. . ." (The Inner Ground of Love)

"There remains a profound wisdom in the traditional Christian approach to the world as an object of choice. But we have to admit that the mechanical and habitual compulsions of a certain limited type of Christian thought have falsified the true value-perspective in which the world can be discovered and chosen as it is. To treat the world merely as an agglomeration of material goods and objects outside ourselves, and to reject these goods and objects in order to seek others which are "interior" or "spiritual" is in fact to miss the whole point of the challenging confrontation of the world and Christ. Do we really choose between the world and Christ as between two conflicting realities absolutely opposed? Or do we choose Christ by choosing the world as it really is in him, that is to say, redeemed by him, and encountered in the ground of our own personal freedom and love?" (The Inner Ground of Love, Emphasis added)

Pentecost!!! Come Holy Spirit!!!

I have written in the past about a significant prayer experience I had where I had the sense I had God's entire attention, where God was absolutely delighted that I was "finally" there, and where I was completely assured in some indefinable way that, paradoxically, the rest of God's creation enjoyed his entire attention as well. I have also written that from time to time I return to this prayer experience to tap into it again, to drink from its living waters, and to breathe in the strength of its Spirit. I do this because it still lives inside me; it is part of my living, daily memory and has not yet and (I strongly suspect) will never be exhausted of its riches. It serves still as a gateway to a "place" where God is waiting with much to show me and thus, as a gateway to real wisdom. More, it serves as a gateway to that "place" where God is allowed to be completely attentive to me, the place created when he loves me as he wills to do and I am truly myself. And yet, for all of our clamoring and self-centeredness, our love of being at the center of attention and acclaim, it is hard to let ourselves be the center of God's attention because it is hard to let God himself be the center of our own attention.

Over the past weeks I have been thinking about the part played by Jesus' Ascension in our faith. It has been enriched by a focus on the Bridegroom's return to his Father's home to prepare a place for all of humanity in his Father's own life. Especially I have come to see more clearly how it is that through the mediation of his Christ God not only comes to dwell among us exhaustively but that he also opens his own life to us; Divine descent is balanced or matched by Human ascent.

This means that in Christ humanity and all of the experience of humanity including death itself is taken up into the life of God and yet does not destroy God. It also means that the Spirit which hovered over the waters in creation, while not a different Spirit, is also not precisely the same Spirit that exists after the Christ Event and the Ascension of Jesus. The Risen Christ and the Eternal Son are now entirely one. The Spirit (as was always true) is the single eternal Spirit of love that courses between Son and Father; still, because of the Christ Event, including the Ascension of Christ, the Spirit whose coming we celebrate today is not only the Spirit of Divinity, but also the Spirit of authentic humanity. The courage, wisdom, understanding, counsel, strength, reverence for God, etc, which come to us today and everyday are also the courage, wisdom, understanding, etc of Jesus' himself --- the one who has suffered our pain, borne the burden of our sinfulness, felt the frustration of our weakness, celebrated the same joys and loves which we do, and persevered in prayer and his acceptance of his Father's commission as he grew to the fullness of "grace and stature" in the power of the Spirit.

But it really is hard sometimes, I think, to be wholly and exhaustively loved by God. It calls for our whole selves to be illuminated by that attention and healed by that love so that we may truly be human beings who center our lives on God's own life.  And yet, this is one piece of today's Feast. Today God showers us with gifts and they are the gifts of God's very self but also the gifts of Jesus and our own truest humanity. God in Christ gives us his full attention and pours out upon us all the riches that attention implies so that we ourselves might likewise give God and his Reign in our midst our full attention.

Today God empowers us with the gifts which make us truly human and commissions us individually and communally to be his People in a world which hungers for this desperately. As a part of this feast it is personally important for me to tap into that prayer experience again as I must do from time to time so that it may continue to renew me. In doing so I am not merely indulging a past memory of something that took place 30 (or so!) years ago nor do I either need nor try to feel what I once felt there; those things are mere shadows of the reality itself. Instead it involves opening myself to a continuing reality which enlivens, nourishes, inspires, challenges, and commissions right here and now. It is to open myself to an experience of God where there is a genuine forgetfulness of self and what delight there is is living delight in God's own delight.

I am reminded in all of this that Sister Rachel, OCD (Ruth Burrows) strongly affirms that the real experience of mystical prayer is always far broader and deeper than the mere (and often misleading) things we feel, hear, see, etc in such prayer; the real "experience" of prayer, the true mystical grace, is the wisdom that grows in us as a result of God's work within us,** the authentic humanity and capacity for all those gifts of the Spirit that not only allow us to grow in grace and stature as Jesus did, but to grow more and more into the image of Jesus who gave himself completely to and for others and thus discovered and embraced his truest home in the very heart of God. We ask that God open us to this fire that burns beneath and beyond all the transitory and illusory things we feel or see in prayer so that one day that same God might, in the power of His Holy Spirit, be all in all. Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and enkindle in us all the fire of your love!
_____________________________

** In Guidelines for Mystical Prayer Ruth Burrows writes:  [[When all is said and done, the long line of saints and spiritual writers who insist on "experience", who speak of sanctity in terms of ever deepening "experience", who maintain that to have none is to be spiritually dead, are absolutely right provided we understand "experience" in the proper sense, not as a transient emotional impact but as living wisdom, living involvement. . . .So often, however, what the less instructed seek is mere emotion. They are not concerned with the slow demanding generosity of genuine experience.]] GMP, "A Look at Experiences," p 55, emphasis added.

What is Prayer?

[[Dear Sister, My question is , what is prayer? I know god knows all things and could cure my Sister-in-law should he so choose. I also know from my grade school days there are prayers of petition, of thanksgiving and others that I cannot remember right now. How does one, you, spend time in prayer? What do you think about while spending this time? Perhaps focusing on the life of a saint, say Saint Bonifacius, Saint Anne; a parable from the New Testament? A psalm? A story, and its message, from the Old Testament. A concept like Sanctifying Grace, the Communion of saints, etc.]]

 Hi there,

     I guess the most basic answer I would give is that besides being God's own work within us, prayer is our Spirit-empowered response to the active and effective presence of God in our lives and in our larger world. It presupposes and always presumes he is present and active within and around us and involves opening ourselves to that in a variety of ways. Thus, different forms of prayer look differently than others. For instance, in quiet prayer, I tend not to think about anything in particular; I simply sit quietly and open myself to God so that he might dwell within me and touch me in whatever ways he wills. When I pray with Scripture I read it slowly and allow it to speak to me in whatever way it can. I may also imagine myself in the scene, imagine Jesus has just told (or rather, is telling) me the parable at hand, and so forth. Another piece of all this is journaling: I journal about Scripture, and also about the events in my own life in ways which allow God's voice to be heard there. Journaling tends to accompany all of the prayer in my life.

With Divine Office I sing the psalms etc. and pour myself into them as best I can. With the Lord's Prayer, I might take a single petition each day and spend time with it or I might pray the entire prayer with space between each petition so that I am free to feel, think, imagine, etc whatever might be associated with that line. When traveling on a train, for instance, I look briefly at each person while praying the Jesus prayer (I finger some beads I wear on my wrist at such times). When I am ill, I might take a Taize hymn or other piece of music and listen to it while opening myself to God's presence as well as I can.

My prayer for others tends to be a prayer that God will be with them and support them in whatever way they most need. It seems to me to be as important that I hold them in my heart as it is to pray for anything specific. I know that the God who grounds my being and resides within my heart links me to the other person in a similar way so in some ways my prayer is an offer to support that person and to not leave them alone --- even though I may have no awareness of this nor may they. My own spontaneous prayers tend to be cries for assistance ("O God come to me assistance, O Lord make haste to help me!"),  cries of deep joy and gratitude, exclamations of amazement, praise, etc. 

Guess that's about it for a start. Please be assured of my prayers for your Sister-in-Law. Whatever happens she is not alone.

Once Again: On Infused Contemplation, Union With God, and Elitism

[[Dear Sister, if God can gift any person with infused contem-plation despite the obstacles they present, then why doesn't he? Have you experienced the gift of infused contemplation? Isn't it a special gift and sign of God's love given to only a few?]]

The first question is unanswerable. I don't know why God does what God does, why sometimes a gift is obviously prudent or necessary and other times it is not. Presumably one is not always ready for love in such a form. Some theologians reject the notion of infused contemplation because it strikes them as interventionist or elitist. Rahner does this and suggests that these experiences affirm merely that some people are more able to cooperate with God, perhaps have become more skilled in this, etc. However, I disagree with Rahner in this because yes, I have experienced "infused contemplation" --- something that seemed like the flooding of my heart, mind, and soul from within with the presence of God. It was a gift which had nothing to do with my skill or supposed "advancement" at prayer or my spiritual readiness for this gift. In fact, I have always had the sense that God gifted me in this way as an amazing (and amazingly gentle yet powerful) "kick in the pants" precisely to signal what I was ultimately meant for and to remind me that prayer is ALWAYS what God does within us, not something we manage on our own.

My experience had several dimensions to it but it began with my inability to pray or to cease "trying too hard". To assist with this my director asked me to rest my hands in her outstretched hands and then to pray as I always did. I did this, took a couple of centering breaths and God did the rest! Prescinding from the imagery involved it centered on two insights or divine affirmations:  1) that God was absolutely delighted that I was "finally" here with him in this way and had "waited" for a very long time for this (and that this had nothing to do with my own age). I had the sense in all of this that I had God's ENTIRE attention and was completely sustained by him and this was exactly what I was called to. (This last part was literally true since during the prayer (a period of @ 45 minutes or so) I ceased breathing for some time, and others had to be sure I was okay while not interfering with the prayer itself. (My director eventually told me to breath at one point, and, with some initial difficulty, I did. Otherwise she and I simply trusted to God and let things happen as he willed.) 2) At the same time I had the sense that God loved and was caring for EVERY PERSON in exactly the same way. It was an amazing and paradoxical experience and neither element (the specialness nor the universality of God's love) was less important or true than the other.


In the 30 years since that experience I have had  others which were similar but also were far less dramatic. What I have learned is that union with God is not necessarily characterized by such experiences; in fact, such experiences are not strictly necessary any more than orgasmic experiences are strictly necessary to or characteristic of  married love generally. Granted, I apparently needed this particular experience at that point in my life to teach me a fundamental truth about God's love for me and for all others, as well as to remind me of the fact that prayer is NOT my doing. Even more, it taught me that prayer is meant for God's delight more than it is for my own. I needed these lessons on a level theological work itself doesn't usually allow, but I have not really needed others like it to experience communion with God or a felt sense of God's presence.  I also learned that such experiences need have nothing to do with being in some "advanced state" of prayer (though I do agree with Rahner that once we learn to open and entrust ourselves to God and do so regularly, it is easier for him to give himself to us in this way). Such experiences are indeed a gift, freely given by God because he loves us and desires we know that in ways which will sustain us and allow us to live authentically with a foundational security and hope which is edifying and even inspiring to others.

I learned at least one other lesson from this experience and my reflection on it which I will mention here (for indeed, I return to it fairly regularly to renew not only my gratitude to God for his gift of self to me, but to allow it to speak more fully to me). Namely, God dwells within us, actively calling, loving, sustaining and waiting for us to open our hearts to him. He is never absent and our smallest choice of life is a choice we make WITH and FOR him. Union with God is the very essence of humanity. We are not human alone. At the same time that union can be experienced in many different ways so it is important not to associate it necessarily with ecstasies, etc. Some of my most profound experiences of union with God have involved moments when a bit of theology becomes clear, a client achieves a significant step of growth, or I sit quietly with God and a cup of fragrant hot tea and am at peace and grateful for who and where I am. At those times and many others I have a renewed sense of God's delight and joy that we are FINALLY together in all of this, that he is mine and I am his.

I sincerely believe these significant experiences of union/communion are open to everyone on this side of the eschatological divide. But of course, those of us who have experienced them cannot teach that they are meant for an elite few if we really want that to be true. And here is where one other central lesson of my own life of prayer becomes critical: whose experience do we focus on in prayer? Is it our own or is it God's? Better said, perhaps, do we stop with our own delight, joy, peace, and draw theological conclusions from those, or do we open ourselves to and consider what our prayer means for God?

If we do the latter, then we will be very clear that he desires us to help open EVERY person to this kind of experience, and to do so now rather than waiting for the eschaton and/or the parousia. NO authentic experience of union/communion I have ever had supports elitism. None of them suggests such experiences are open to only a privileged few or are even necessarily a sign of "spiritual advancement" --- whatever that really means anyway. The experiences are ineffably special, no doubt about it, and they witness to how very special I am to God but none of them have excluded that second element I mentioned at the beginning of this post, namely, the sense that God loves and desires, in fact loves and yearns to love EVERY person just as exhaustively right here, right now. I have actually wondered if the presence of this second element is part of what validates the experience as authentic. In any case, I can only hope my life is an effective sign of this truth!! Otherwise, I will have failed in a significant way in the very special vocation to which I have been called.

Paintings from Brother Emmaus O'Herlihy, OSB: Camaldolese Hermit in Reclusion and St Romuald receiving the gift of tears  from the series "St Romuald and his Followers."

Desiring Mystical Experiences: "Is it Proper"?

One of the questions I received in response to the original post on Mystical Experience and One's Place in the World, was the following: [[Is it proper to desire mystical experiences? . . .My goal is quite simply to be completely absorbed in the Lord, in prayer. . .I have been a woman of serious prayer and meditation for many years and am desirous of being a true contemplative. But I realise that such are pure gifts from God. But, oh how I desire them! Am I wrong?]]

The short and unnuanced answer is, no, there is nothing wrong with simply desiring what you have had a taste of (mystical union), and what you are in fact made for. Often when we come to prayer we have a sense of deep peace, of various experiences of being addressed, comforted, healed, held, listened to, and we may also sense that those are partial or mitigated experiences of a communion we are ultimately made for. Sometimes the obstacles to more intense and pervasive experiences are those we carry within us, sometimes they are simply part of God's own hugeness or a sort of "withholding" of God's Self in these ways. But what remains true is that we are ultimately made for mystical union with God and so, longing for this in our prayer is completely understandable. So long as we remain aware, as you do, that specific experiences are gifts of God at the same time, and that, with or without such experiences, prayer is God's constant work within us, I think such desire CAN be virtuous and a way of remaining open to God's presence.

The longer answer though is that at the same time there MAY be something wrong with desiring these experiences; it depends on what we are desiring and why. One problem with these kinds of experiences is that they ordinarily put the focus on us and our experience rather than on God and his constant activity within us. Similarly, we often find these experiences are seductive. I remember for a week after the experience I described, I would go to prayer looking for this amazing ecstasy (this standing outside my normal reality in this way) to occur again --- I wanted so much to be taken up again in this way, to dance with Christ again, to experience the radiance of God's joy at being with me. And yet, it did not happen. I, rather sheepishly, related to my director what my prayer had been like that week and she laughed (gently, but with real understanding), and said, "It's a little like being a kid in a candy store, isn't it? You just want back in there for more!" And of course, she was right.

Fortunately, the experience I had (and have described here), focused my attention on God's own "experience" throughout -- not on my own. It was primarily an experience of God's own delight and joy, not my own. Even so, what I really needed to learn to do was to tap back into (or draw from the living memory of) the original experience from time to time, but also, to appreciate better the everyday omnipresence and grace of God which this experience signaled and in which it was grounded. To continue my director's analogy, I needed to learn to love fruits (and vegetables) and all the naturally sweet "foods" of Divine grace and presence that were around (and within!) me everyday at every moment. If mystical experiences do not lead us to an openness to God in all the ways God is present to us --- most of which are not marked by extraordinary experiences or even any "experience" --- then their seductiveness is probably not edifying, either to us or to others.

Another problem, especially when we come to see these experiences as a sign of advancement in prayer, or when they become regular (which tends to make me think they are more of us and less of God), is what happens when they cease. In the first instance we may cease to look for the real and infallible signs of spiritual growth and maturity: peace, love, compassion, patience, courage, the ability to suffer with equanimity, joy, and the like. We may begin to see our prayer as incomplete or inadequate. But ecstatic experiences, as you, I, and others note, are pure gifts and there is nothing we can do beyond normal faithfulness to prayer to prepare for or cause them. We absolutely cannot expect them. If we begin to think of ourselves as mystics because of a few significant experiences which were SOLELY due to God's power and grace, we may well have put the accent in the wrong place --- namely on ourselves and on what is merely a quantitatively small part of our spiritual lives which need not necessarily reflect the maturity of our spirituality or the authenticity of our humanity. (Note well, I am not referring to Peter Smith's identification of himself as a mystic here, for instance, --- that is completely valid I think --- but I do have a sense that this was true in the original situation that prompted the question I answered in Mystical Experiences and our Place in the World.)

In the second instance, when these experiences cease (or become infrequent), we may be tempted to think God has ceased to grace us at all, or that we have sinned seriously, or that we have reached some even "more advanced dark night" experience --- none of which are particularly likely or which really understand the gratuitousness of occasional or rare experiences of ecstasy or rapture and the like. This is especially difficult when we have come to define ourselves in terms of these experiences, or when others have come to see us in these terms and accept us as "spiritual" (or, in some cases, as less eccentric or unstable than they thought!) because of them. Is our prayer and our spirituality recognizably more than these experiences? Are we ourselves more than these --- no matter how important and genuine they are? Are we still mystics (or contemplatives, or charismatics, or whatever the label) when these experiences cease?  And finally, do we recognize that these experiences do not make us more profoundly loved by God than someone who never has such experiences? Do we realize that our everyday faithfulness to prayer and God's continuous faithfulness to us is far more important than these extraordinary experiences? These seem to me to be the important questions to which we (and those who know us) should be able to answer yes.

As many genuine mystics remind us, prayer (on our side of the equation) is an act of will. (I prefer to define prayer as God's activity within us, but on our side of things prayer is an act of will.) One author, in writing about Julian of Norwich commented: [[God is much more pleased, according to Julian, when our prayer is unrewarding to us but is centered on God, rather than on our self-oriented personal "experience." "Praying," [Julian] declares, "is a true, gracious, lasting intention of the soul one-ed and made fast to the will of our Lord by the sweet, secret working of the Holy Spirit" ---a simple act of faithful and trust-filled willing.]] He goes on to note: [[Julian delivers us from the guilt of not feeling prayerful. In a direct analogy one may often not feel like going home to one's spouse, but one goes home out of faithfulness, and thereby demonstrates a love that transcends the myth of romance and the sentimentality of emotions. Julian knows that both loving and praying are done with the will, not the emotions.]] (The Complete Julian of Norwich, Fr John-Julian, OJN, p 12)

The point here is not that feelings, emotions, or mystical experiences are bad or should not be desired (nor that they are not part of loving) but motives for prayer may be ambivalent at best when these, especially mystical or highly emotionally charged experiences, are involved. As I noted above, in the experience I described, what was overwhelming to me was what an experience of joy this was FOR GOD! I am sure I must have personally experienced joy (the imagery involved surely reflected it), but it was realizing that my prayer, my slightest gesture of acting/willing to be there and for and with God, opening to him, was a joyful experience for God that changed my life and prayer. Ironically, this mystical experience in many ways did away with the need or desire for others (i.e., other similar experiences)!  I have not ceased to do "lectio" with it even 35 years later. It remains striking to me that the feelings I can name clearly were God's own --- those communicated to me as 'his" joy and delight --- not my own.

One issue you raise is that of becoming a "true contemplative" and you linked that in your question (in the section I did not copy) with praying without distraction, including not being bothered by ambient sound and the noises of neighbors, etc. If you don't mind my opinion on that, I have found that if one can learn to pray WITH distractions --- that is, bring the neighbors, traffic (harried travelers, an overly mobile world, etc.) into one's prayer in some way, one may be closer to becoming a true contemplative than the image in your email allows. I would bet that if you try this these sources of distraction will surely look and sound differently to you thereafter. What is sometimes called "Infused contemplation" is a gift of God and not everyone may experience this at any given period, but I sincerely believe that all of us are called to contemplative prayer more generally, and this is no less truly contemplative than what is called "infused". We are surely called to be absorbed in God in our prayer (and to allow him to be "absorbed with" us in ways we might usually resist), but another reason for prayer is to bring all of creation to God, and this is one of the ways to help do that.

By the way, thanks to you and others for your suggestions on topics re diocesan eremitical life you would like to hear more about. They are good. Meanwhile, I hope this helps a bit with the questions you raised. Get back to me if it is unclear or raises more questions. Given the complexity and importance of the topic it is likely I will only cover one "side" of things at a time --- something that can cause a sense that that is the "only" side I appreciate.

Followup to Mystical Experience and One's Place in the World

I received a couple of emails, one from the original questioner, another with someone with additional questions, and one from Peter Smith with both some questions and a reference to his blog where he responded to my earlier post about Mystical Experience and our Place in the World. At this point I want to respond to Peter's blog article, and, when I have a chance, to the questions from his and the other emails. The idea is to continue a dialogue. So please check out his blog. (I can't seem to get the links to show up, so check out thegoodcatholicmystic.blogspot.com) Peter writes:

[[I can't comment directly to sr. laurel's blog (it isn't set up this way), but i wanted to comment on her post regarding the mystical state. First of lall, I should ask for clarification, because i wonder if we dealing in semantics. She seems to relegate 'mystical' experiences to 'mountain-top' experiences only, or as sort of ER help from the divine for the spiritually weak or immature. At least, that's what it sounded like she said. Um. Not my idea of what mysticism is about. Mysticism is a vocation; a way of life, an every minute, every day experience. Certainly it is not the normal province for the spiritually immature--isn't it usually the mark of the spiritually advanced? At least, some of the most spiritually 'powerful' saints in our canon were marked by a constant mystical life.]]

Yes, to some degree this is a matter of semantics, though not wholly so I think. The simplest answer re relegating the term "mystical experiences" to peak experiences is that for most of us the more everyday mysticism is called contemplative life (or something similar) and "mystical experiences" (ecstasy, trance, visions, locutions, etc) is the language of specific kinds of rarer events. In part that is done to rescue "contemplative life/prayer" from a sense of being for specialists only or from being associated only with special experiences --- especially those which separate from others or mark one out as unusual in some way. Some of the other reasons I noted in my earlier blog piece, and others relate to elements in the history of mysticism in Catholicism --- especially in the late medieval period which were problematical then and remain so even now for those who read without a sense of history and context. Clearly though, knowledgeable and reputable people write books (and blogs!!) about "everyday mysticism" or "practical mysticism," etc, so it can be done appropriately. When Peter speaks of "the mystical life" I think he is referring to a life lived in light of a pervasive sense of the mystery or ground of reality. If so, then I would agree completely that it is an everyday reality. But my own solution with this and other terms is to use contemplative instead (not least because it does not need to be qualified by the terms "everyday" or "practical") and to reserve "mystical experience" for the rarer and peak experiences. Similarly I would refer to a person with a contemplative life as a contemplative, even though at the heart of that is an awareness of (or resting in) the mystery which grounds all reality.

Also, Peter and other readers should be aware that the question I was responding to posed things in terms of 1) a wholly artificial and inappropriate division between a putative TCW (Temporal Catholic World) and MCW (Mystical Catholic World), --- especially in terms of the mystic being divided (alienated) from the temporal world --- and 2) mystical experiences per se which were specified as ecstasy, trance, and the like. The sections of the question which were not included, and which may have been marked by ellipses, referred to a specific situation which defines a prayer life in terms of extraordinary and alienating experiences and which can be seriously destructive in a parish environment. This situation is not mine to make public, but it underscores my own tendency to use contemplative in place of mystical, as well as to relegate mystical experiences to moments of significant breakthrough or union which enhance rather than detract from one's relation with this world. It may very well be that the notion of an everyday or "practical" mysticism would provide a way of countering the unfortunate elements in the situation referred to, but at this point I am not convinced.

One reason for this hesitancy is because the terms mystic or mysticism seem to set one up to expect as natural the more dramatic experiences we count as mystical: ecstasies, trances, visions, locutions, and the like. If one then finds they do not happen, or happen very infrequently, one can come to believe that there is something seriously wrong with one's prayer. But all prayer is God's work within us and those really peak experiences of union are complete gifts given according to God's will and wisdom. It becomes especially tricky if one has come to identify such experiences with advanced prayer ---- and spiritually dangerous as well, I think. We have better ways of measuring the quality of advancement in a prayer life: does one's prayer lead to greater compassion, joy, peace, creativity, hope, deeper and more authentic humanity? Does it allow one to suffer with equanimity and courage in a way which relativizes suffering so it, real as it is, does not define one's being? Does it sustain one even in the times when God seems absent, when life disappoints cruelly, and one feels out of step with the world? Does it lead one not to a sense of being different than others, but to a sense that one is really, in profound ways, the same as everyone else? That is, does it lead one to a sense of deep communion with God, and solidarity with his creation --- all that and those he regards as precious? Again, ecstatic or rapturous experiences of union with God do happen to those with little or no really developed prayer lives, so the experiences as such may or may not indicate advancement in prayer. They must be accompanied by these other more authentic signs of spiritual growth. I think that some of my concern in this regard --- the notion that we will come to measure the quality of our prayer by the presence or absence of peak mystical experiences --- is given at least a slight basis in Peter's blog entry on my original post.

He writes: [[ Frankly, in my 26 years of an intentional spiritual life, we experience, usually, what we EXPECT to experience. And there is no contradiction here. If we expect for 'mountaintop' experiences to happen only once per (fill in the blank) then that is what we shall have. If we anticipate that god will intersect with us daily, strangely, physically (so it seems), then he does. This is no mere 'wish fulfillment'; in my view it is a very fundamental and profound and sublime truth. If we wish the spiritual life to be difficult, to be dry, to be 'i-thou', to be usually 'reaching out', then it shall be.

To each his own. But as for me, a different path has chosen me. As sister said so eloquently when she expressed her feeling of the inexpressible joy of the Jesu during one of her own mystical experiences, 'where have you been, I'm so glad you are here'---does this not intimate that the Jesu expects us to be with him always, in every moment, and in that same sublime and inexpressible and mystical way? Why could it not mean that? I don't doubt that sister experiences god in a intimate and even in an ever-present way---but why must a 'mystical' union with god play so infrequent a role?]]

Let me be clear. In my prayer I am as open as I can be to God being present in whatever way (he) desires to be, but I (thank God!) do not usually get what I expect --- and so I practice not expecting any particular thing and again, simply being open. This is a reflection of my recognition that I am God's to do with as he will --- and my commitment to become that more and more. God is always a God of surprises, and we are always those who forget or underestimate (or perhaps --- and rightly so --- cannot hang onto) his awesomeness. Nor, in saying that I use the term mystical experiences for some peak or touchstone experiences, am I implying that my prayer otherwise is merely dry, difficult, or anything similar. Of course it also has these moments, and yet, even at these times it is rich, and alive with God's presence. In a very real sense, union with God is a daily reality I know (unless I opt out of that) --- even when I don't sense or feel it clearly, and I act and live in light of that deep knowledge --- and more importantly, in light of the deep knowledge that my prayer is a significant event (or experience) for God no matter what I personally experience.

However, wonderful as this ongoing sense of presence is, it is at least not as intense as those peak experiences I identify as "mystical experiences." As for what Jesus or God in Christ wishes for me, I have no doubt that one day "mystical union" in the sense Peter means, will simply be the whole of my reality, however I also have the sense that that time is not now. I still experience a union I call contemplative, and I am open to "more" whenever God deigns to give himself to me in this way; there is also no doubt, though, that were this to become a regular or frequent thing it would change my life and ministry dramatically, and, at this point, I have a strong sense that this is indeed where God wills me to be. Indeed, the last 40+ years have prepared for this place and time in my life and I know that God is as joyfiled over this as he was during that first 40 minute prayer experience 25 years ago.

So, I am not saying that "mystical union" cannot happen (my faith is clear that it can, does, and will), or that God does not wish it in my life (he has and does) ---- and certainly it is true that He wills it ultimately for every person. But in my theology it is also true that both human beings and God continue to experience estrangement from, as well as union with one another, and this estrangement and alienation witnesses to the imperfection and to the ongoing work still needed to bring all things to fulfillment in Christ. My experience is that God is infinitely patient and works constantly to reconcile, that is, to bring everything to union with himself. He gives us Scriptures, Sacraments, a Savior, prophets, mystics, and occasional mystical experiences as well to remind us of (and achieve) the goal of both his own and our lives, but it makes sense to me that we cannot dwell on the mountaintop at all times. Like Moses, and Jesus himself, we must come down to lead, witness to, heal, and inspire --- and of course, we must come down so that we ourselves may grow through our encounters with those who lead, witness to, heal, and inspire us as well. That is simply the normal way the Spirit of God works in our world.


Gifts must be used, spent, given away or otherwise shared rather than grasped at and that means coming down from the mountain to dwell where most others are most of the time. With Christ, we are reminded that he did not count equality with God something to be grasped at, but rather emptied himself. Did he experience a contemplative union with God during his life? Yes, except during the passion, it seems. Does he return to the Father in a way akin to mystical union in the Ascension (and perhaps during those times he went off to pray alone)? Yes, but descent was necessary so that the whole of creation could ultimately ascend to God as well. It is an image which reminds me of the rhythms of my own life and prayer, and one (among others) which helps me understand why those experiences I call "mystical experiences" happen relatively infrequently in the lives of most serious "pray-ers".

I am tempted to ask myself, "In all of this which has been of most significance to you, Laurel, the peak experiences like the one described, or the more everyday ongoing sense of dialogue and union with a God that constitutes part of your very being?" And I cannot say either is more important or more true. One worked like a jolt of electricity searing my mind and heart and changing forever the way I see myself and what I know as both my present and future. The other is like a well-banked and slow-burning fire which provides constant warmth, light, comfort and challenge. But both are with me always, just as both are of God and are the will of God.

N.B pictures are of "Transfiguration" by Lewis Bowman and are available in stretched Giclee canvas, matted and framed version, and simple print from fineartamerica.com.