Intellectualizing

Meeting last week was so good. As people delivered their messages about prayer and light, I found myself deeply and restoratively in a prayerful state. And I found it. I found that place within me that I could hear that still, small voice. I don't know what I was expecting, but it surprised me--it was so clear. It actually sounded like a little child, and it addressed me by name: "Stephen, come to me."

When I have a message that needs to be delivered, my body reacts strongly. The message presses into me from within, my heart starts pounding, I shudder and grow cold, and my head grows light and floaty and swirly. Last week, that happened when I had something to say about the light of God. But the child's voice I'd heard wasn't in it. My body trembled and my head grew faint, but the voice wasn't there. I remained seated.

Tonight, I have another meeting of the newly-formed Young Adult Friends group for Providence. Last Monday night was our first real meeting, and there were five of us, gathered over tea, tortilla chips, flatbread, and homemade hummous and pico de gallo. We decided to do a little bible study, so we opened up to a psalm and read it aloud. I mentioned that I sometimes had trouble reconciling the language of "enemies" in the psalms with Jesus' exhortation to love our enemies. I wondered what everyone thought. People shared their thoughts, and they mostly made some sense to me. Then, suddenly, I came upon a revelation: it all seemed so clear. But as I opened my mouth to speak, Hannah's cell phone rang. It was her father, so she answered it, briefly. After she hung up, I didn't say anything. But Elizabeth had noticed my "revelation face," and invited me to say what I was going to say. I couldn't.

I believe that seemingly random things happen for a reason. During the phone call, I realized that I had done to the scriptures what I usually do as a grad student: I had intellectualized them into obedience to my will. My "revelation" was an intellectual epiphany. The spirit wasn't in it. So I shut my mouth and let the silence of waiting enfold us all again. I've done bible studies many, many times in my life, especially during my high school days in a Presbyterian youth group. But this was the first time I realized how much God can and should be present in them. In the past, they've all been intellectual exercises, in which we talked about God. I realized that we can actually experience God directly when we communally wait upon the scriptures just like we wait upon him.

We didn't come to any glorious revelations about the psalm that night, but that was okay. We just sat with it, and we found ourselves in a prayerful state that was sweeter than anything we could have done to wrangle that thing into making sense.

I noticed something in meeting this morning.  Sometimes, I find it hard to focus during meeting, and my mind wanders uncontrollably (I think of what Buddhists call shin-en, "monkey mind"--that's totally what I have).  I sit in meeting trying to calm it down, but it cavorts all over the place, chattering and shrieking despite my best efforts.  Vocal ministry comes and goes, but it's difficult for me to pay attention.  Sometimes, I even find it hard to stay awake.  So I try different techniques gleaned from my days of practicing meditation in high school:  changing my posture, visualizing, chanting some sound in my mind.  All this in an attempt to calm down my monkey mind.

But the past few weeks, meetings have been uniformly focused and worshipful.  I've been blessed to consistently find myself in a deep, luxurious and prayerful state.  I've been profoundly moved by the vocal ministry, but not necessarily by the things that are said.  I've truly felt where the words are coming from.  I was startled this morning to hear the booming voice of God thundering from the throat of a woman who stood to talk about the prophet Jeremiah.  She herself became a prophetess in that moment.  Her voice was like a bullhorn.  

This morning, I realized what the difference was.  The past few weeks, I've begun meeting for worship with prayer.  I simply speak to God, feeling him out, opening up to him with words.  I ask him explicitly to come bless us with his presence.  I ask him to come and sit among us, and I picture the meeting room covered with Spirit.  I don't really know how to describe this, but I see it covered over with something that looks like swirling water.  It's gentle, luminous, and clear.  I don't say "Amen" or anything like that to end the prayer;  instead of ending it, I allow it to feather out and diffuse.  When I begin with prayer, meetings for worship have been profoundly sweet.

Is that all it takes?  All I have to do is ask?  I don't need any tricks and techniques to enter a prayerful state, but only an open invitation, asking God to come and be present?