How Do We KNOW?

“We cannot know just by going to church, reading Scripture or listening to someone else talk about it.”

 Richard Rohr, Jesus’ Alternative Plan

In 2022 when I was getting ready for my once-in-a-lifetime trip to Ireland, anyone I talked to who had been there immediately launched into a description of how amazing it was. Some of them — namely you, Jamie Chavez! – made it sound so delicious it was as if I’d been there too. 

And yet nothing anyone said compared to what it was like to catch my first glimpse of the shades-of-green patchwork from the airplane. Or to walk amid the ruins of Glendalough and feel the spirits of St. Kevin and his monks. Or to gaze at the Book of Kells and almost hear the scratching of the pens that created it. Or to savor that inimitable glass of port. Or to delight in sheep romping across a golf course as I watched from the window of a train bound for Galway. Or to come upon a Church of Ireland that had stood since the 14^th century and understand what keeps us coming together again and again to worship. 

That is what Richard Rohr calls “soul knowledge.” He writes in Jesus’ Alternative Plan, “It is a victory of the Spirit that comes only from engagement, patience, prayer, insight and inner transformation.”

He’s talking about spiritual practices. 

We are talking about them this month because these practices comprise how we travel on this journey. They keep us from wandering aimlessly toward whatever …

And here’s how – at least in my view.

Practices Prime the Pump

You know how when you first open a new container of hand lotion or soap, you have to mash on it a few times before the good stuff inside spurts out? That’s how I think a spiritual practice works. 

We want the union with the Divine we talked about a few days ago in our Facebook community. But to quote the wonderful children’s play Mother Hicks, “Wantin’ ain’t gettin’.” We have to do some intentional pumping to get the air out and move the soothing contents into our hands. Oneness with the Holy Spirit is rather like smoothing essential oils into our skin. 

However, you may have experienced – returning to our pump metaphor – that it seems to actually take an act of God to get the dang thing to untwist and go up and down. At times, I have had to just unscrew the cap and dispense with the pump altogether, because clearly there’s a technique I don’t get. 

That’s where the kinds of spiritual practices come in.

The Scared Rituals

In his wonderful book, We Survived the End of the World, Choctaw elder Steven Charleston describes how Native Americans have dealt with the Apocalypse that has been their life since Europeans first came to this land. One of the things he states passionately is that the natives have stood and continue to stand on the solid ground of the spiritual traditions of their people. 

My dear friend Winnie Kitchukian talks of the hushed-up Armenian Holocaust that killed and misplaced millions and described how the rituals of the Armenian Orthodox Church continue to comfort and strengthen survivors all over the world. 

I was raised in the liturgy of the Episcopal Church and can whisper the words of the Holy Eucharist Rites One and Two at the slightest nudge. The corporate near-poetry of the Book of Common Prayer has been my grounding for decades. 

Do we have to have ritual in order to connect with God? Not entirely. But in times when we don’t have words of our own or when we feel we have drifted far from ourselves and don’t know how to get back, it is ritual that brings us home. To center.

The Just-You Practices        

As Father Richard points out in our opening quote, we don’t find that center with God by the church-going alone. We each also need our own personal ways to find relationship in the Divine. We’re going to talk about these in the weeks to come both here and in our Facebook community. These will be unique and individualized and creative in every soul. I think it will help, though, to look at what makes any practice effective:

• It helps you pay attention. And, as Julia Cameron writes in The Sound of Paper, “The act of paying attention brings us peace.” Whether that means meditation or journaling or praying with prayer beads, focusing is key. Ever talk to someone whose gaze is on everything but you? It makes you want to stop saying anything. I don’t know, but maybe God feels the same way. 
• It’s done consistently. The process of theosis – the spiritual journey we’re on together – is gradual and ongoing. Hit and miss practice will get us as far as just filling up the gas tank every thousand miles. 
• It fits you. We’ll talk about many different practices, and not all of them are going to resonate with you. Listening to contemporary Christian music doesn’t do it for me. Practicing yoga does. If you don’t enjoy writing, why force yourself to keep a journal? If you would rather pray as you hike than fall on your knees, what’s stopping you? The possibilities are endless. This is God we’re talking about, right?

Don’t Believe the Time Lie

You may be silently protesting, “But I don’t have time to do morning devotions or take communion three times a week or stop and pray seven times a day!” You may be right. Carpools, work commutes, kids’ sports practices, your responsibilities that if not done will result in some serious consequences. We aren’t monks and nuns who can spend all day and half the night observing rituals and prayer times and Great Silences. 

But to believe we have no time for spiritual practices at all is to believe a lie. We have Kairos time – that time outside of time that manages to weave itself into our daily round if we want it, if we open ourselves to it, if we commit to the small things. 

We will talk much about how that’s done. For now, just know that the unlimited time of God is always at our disposal.

“An Infilling From Another Source”

In The Naked Now (can you tell Richard Rohr is my go-to guy?), Father Richard says that faith isn’t about believing things to be true or false. It’s about using concrete practices that open us up, show us how to hold on and allow that “infilling from another source.”

I don’t know about you, but I want that. In the deepest possible way.

This month, let’s find it together.

Blessings,
Nancy Rue