Prayer: Listening and Silence

Prayer and especially listening prayer has been on my mind a lot these days. It is a way of being with God that my heart longs for. Listening prayer or centering prayer is really a way of sitting (I suppose one could stand, walk or run) with God. This was first introduced to me in Seminary through Thomas Keating. When I left for Korea I took with me a few books written by a American Jesuit whose lived his adult life in the Philippines, Thomas Green. In 2006 I spent a week at his seminary on retreat. He is one of those unknown saints that has a host of gems to teach us through his life and writings.  I highly recommend anything he's written and especially, "When The Well Runs Dry". 

Thomas Green really helped me begin to think about prayer as a way of listening and being. I had always thought that if in my prayers or reading of scripture I felt nothing, that I was doing something wrong.  I failed to realize everyone has these seasons!  Thomas Green's book, "When the Well Runs Dry" changed my paradigm of what "dry" spells in the Lord can be. Instead of judging myself to be inept at prayer or even disobedient I came to realize that like life's seasonal rhythms prayer also has seasons. These seasons don't always repeat themselves and they are not in regular intervals but they note a changing and even a deepening in my relationship with Him. It isn't about finding what "works" in prayer and it isn't about consuming God in my sporadic mountain highs. Instead it is about learning to be, regardless of what is felt or not felt, learning to return regularly in faith and also learning to be lead into different places that feel uncomfortable. 

Despite dryness Green would talk about the commitment to listen and be with God.  I picture Thomas Green lying on the chairs in the Atenao Seminary in Manila early every morning he was physically able. He talked about not "feeling" anything for years but none the less he came to be with the God he trusted there--listening and in silence. He choose to be in the open, where the men training to be priests could see him. He did this not to boast of his regular time with God but to model his commitment to listening in all seasons with the Lord (and especially the long dry one).  

I don't know this LONG dry time but I do know something of the power of silence and stillness with the Lord.  The sweetest times with the Olivetian Benedictine Sisters in Korea were the extended periods of silence where in community we stood still with the opportunity before us of being fully present with God. It was a regular practice for them and I'm sure there were days when God's nearness was missed by most entirely. Call it dryness, call it hurriedness, call it acedia or something. Yet for me since I never understood the language of the mass nor the language of the prayers--they were all in Korean--the moments of silence where the time where this blonde haired outsider was in with everyone. I spoke the same God language as everyone else--presence and stillness. 

As I'm reading the Psalms these days I am captivated by how often the words waiting and stillness come up. How often in my life have I been taught a language of prayer that excludes any sense of presence, stillness, or waiting? They are uncomfortable! They are especially uncomfortable when we live perpetually engaged with technology and the people behind the technology.  Even our weekly worship can encourage us not to listen as every moment is scripted and filled with images and noise.  I believe there is a hunger or a longing within our generation going unnoticed by many; it is a longing for listening to God in silence, stillness and waiting.  (even in the midst of the noise and especially in the periods of dryness)