Contemplation is an ancient form of christian prayer that seeks union with God as it’s goal. Instead of focusing on speaking to God, it aims to be with God in one of God’s favorite languages, silence.
One of the most beautiful things about contemplation, the form of prayer that is more about being than thinking/doing/saying, is that it assumes so much good news. Christian contemplative prayer assumes that God is present with us in a real and immediate way. That God’s attention, God’s listening and speaking, God’s presence are all open to us. Like a generous feast already laid out, all we must do is come and it is there to enjoy and be nourished by. Contemplative prayer also assumes that God loves us, that God desires to meet with us, speak to us, abide with us. Like a loving parent or friend who longs to sit with the beloved, God longs to meet with us. God desires our presence, our attention, our offering of self. Contemplation assumes that the very act of being with God in this way – where we are loved and where we are loving – transforms us. We do not need to speak, we do not need to do anything. By allowing ourselves to be held by God and by beholding God in faith, we are healed, renewed, cleansed, and strengthened.
Now, these assumptions might sound simple, and they are, but I have found that the practice of contemplation reveals that I struggle to believe each of them. The very reason that I practice contemplation is because it enters the gap that exists between my current reality of faith and these wonderful, good news assumptions. Silence allows me to fully enter this gap whereas spoken prayers tend to fill that gap with words. In other words all that is in me that does not assume this good news, all of those lies that I’ve been told that God is not near, that God does not love me, that I cannot be healed are brought to the surface in contemplation. Not only that but the voices of my to-do list, my worries, and my compulsive thoughts all compete for my attention, telling me they’re more urgent than this time with God. These lies are tangled in my heart, mind, and soul, even in my body. But contemplation is a space where they are gently and gracefully untangled, sorted out for what they are, and replaced with the good news, replaced with the reality of God as my loving creator.
The reason why I’ve become convinced of the importance of contemplation as a central christian practice is because of how desperately I need to live into the reality that God is with me, God loves me, and God’s grace can heal me. And contemplation, because it rests in the mystery of the fullness of God rather than the limits of my thinking and language, gives me access to the unknown and vast expanse of grace that I so desperately desire. It also places me: my body, my mind, my subconscious into the practice of God’s immanence and