If we are truly to be formed and shaped spirituality, we must submit ourselves to BOTH solitude AND community. Both can provide opportunities for growth. And, like plants, if we’re not growing then we are dying. Some of us are more inclined toward solitude and others keep themselves immersed with others (community). But in the end, it seems that a balance of each is probably best.

Being more of the solitude type, I am continually surprised when I reflect on how much I learn after putting myself “out there” with others.

Like a lot of things in life, spiritual formation is a “both/and” endeavor instead of the extremes approach of one over the other. Lutheran pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer stressed the importance of both saying, “Let one who cannot be alone beware of community. Let one who is not in community beware of being alone.” We need both. Spirituality is an individual and communal venture. In our solitude, we must learn to sit with ourselves and our fears. And in these times we can come to moments of great peace. Likewise, in community, there are grace-filled times as well as times of conflict when trying to deal with each other. Whether smooth or rough, these interactions with others form us (just as rough and smooth water each shapes the rock it encounters).

St. Anthony of the Desert, a hermit monk who lived to be 105 years old and died in 354 CE, spoke about the importance of both solitude and community. He shared that, “Our life and our death is with our neighbor…If we gain our brother, we have gained God.” And upon having stayed too long interacting with society, he proclaimed that, “Like a fish out of water, I must return to the sea,” staying too long for the fish would be life risking and, for this monk, put him in danger of losing his interior watchfulness.

Spiritual growth is a “Both/And” endeavor. An endeavor, that in the end leads us deeper and deeper into relationship with God.

* Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together, p.78. [lived from 1906-1945]

* “Life of Antony” by St. Athanasius, 4th Century CE

Three years ago my sister and her family took me to the airport to see me off to seminary. My nine year old niece picked up this “Fragile” tag which was laying on the ground and handed it to me saying, “Here, take this with you.” Somehow, I was supposed to keep this as a reminder. I think kids truly are angels (or in Greek, angelos, which means messenger). I have looked at this tag so many times as it being a reminder, a message, of just how fragile we are and how fragile life can be. So many things in life are really beyond our control - even though we like to think we can control everything. Knowing this then , we must learn to live with uncertainty and a sense of surrender. The only way I know to do this is to have a radical trust in God. A Faith that God is with us on our journey, regardless of what that journey looks like. It helps to remember that some of life’s richest moments actually seem to occur in the midst of our most fragile moments - it’s such a paradox.

Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.” ~Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926), Letters to a Young Poet

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a great battle.” ~Philo of Alexandria, Greek Jewish Philosopher, 15 BCE - 50 CE (and perhaps attributed to Plato as well)

“Surely, it is God who saves me; I will trust in him and not be afraid. For the Lord is my stronghold and my sure defense, and he will be my savior.” ~Canticle 9, Book of Common Prayer (Isaiah 12:2-6)

If we go deep and still enough we find that we have a connectedness with the Divine. Problem is…life is usually so hectic and anxiety-filled that we see this fast moving life as the only reality. My favorite image for this is in Martin Laird’s book, Into the Silent Land. (First, imagine yourself sitting on the side of a huge mountain - feeling firmly connected to it. Now look out and notice the weather)… There may be “delightful sunshine, a dull sky, or a destructive storm.” Now, here’s the thing - the weather symbolizes our thoughts and feelings. Laird tells us, “When the mind is brought to stillness we see that we are the mountain and not the changing pattern of weather appearing on the mountain.” Wow, what a relief! If we know our true center, then we can stop over-identifying with the ‘weather’ that comes and goes. We are not the weather.

St. Augustine’s words get at this too, ” My heart was restless, God, until it rested in you…You were closer to me than I was to myself…you were within and I was outside myself.”

Here’s a doable spiritual practice: take one of these short sections of a Psalm and ruminate on it throughout the day, maybe even recite it. This is an ancient practice of Benedictine monks as they go about their daily work.

“Be still and know that I am God” - Psalm 46.10

“For God alone my soul in silence waits” - Psalm 62.10

Go Deeper…

[Augustine quotes from Confessions, Books I,III,and X. Psalms taken from NRSV version of the Bible and the Book of Common Prayer, 1979]

In the Celtic tradition, a “thin place” is that place or experience of the veil between this world and the spiritual world being thin, or near. To me, the ocean shoreline is symbolic of thin places. Two worlds meet there. Imagine the ocean as the spiritual realm and the land as the physical, material world. The water may come crashing onto the shore or it may gently roll in. In any case, we can see these two “worlds” meet, if only for a short moment, then the wave recedes and the shore quickly becomes dry again. In this video clip above, some of the seabirds, (like us), seem to prefer the dry land, some stay in the water, and still others seem to know that where the ocean and shore meet is where the greatest riches exist. I think there are moments or places of “thinness” that occur in life that are meant to offer us something — that is, the gift of Grace . . . like a wave that washes over us, leaving us with an obscured understanding of God’s love.

Prayer attributed to St. Aidan (d.651 CE):

“Leave me alone with God as much as may be.
As the tide draws the waters close in upon the shore,
Make me an island, set apart,
alone with you, God, holy to you.

Then with the turning of the tide
prepare me to carry your presence to the busy world beyond,
the world that rushes in on me
till the waters come again and fold me back to you.”

How we move through and interact with our world says a lot about where we are spiritually. Having a Spiritual Practice is a way of being more intentional about making space and opening ourselves to God’s presence. Being intentional is closely related to having discipline or being obedient - which really sounds less attractive and interesting. But, Henry Nouwen tells us:” The word Obedience [derives from] the word audire which means ‘listening.” Living a spiritually mature life is living a life in which we listen to the voice of God’s Spirit within and among us and in which we try to respond to that voice at every moment of our lives.” Interestingly, Nouwen also explains that in the word Absurd, we find the root surdus which means deaf. “Absurd living is a way of life in which we remain deaf to the voice which speaks to us in our silence.” I know, myself, how “scary” it can be to be still or to quiet the mind. Looking at our true self is a daunting proposition! Living a distracted life actually seems preferable; but, I have found that real living, freedom, and love emerges from these uncertain places of stillness and mystery.
Spiritual Practices may include:
  • Spending time in nature
  • Morning or Evening Prayer
  • Centering Prayer/Meditation/Keeping Silence
  • Reading spiritual classics
  • Running - embodied prayer
  • Journaling
  • Walking a Labyrinth
*Nouwen, Henry. In My Own Words, Liguori Publications, 2001, pp89-90.

Life is made up of moments, woven together. So many of these moments are sacred but we hardly even notice them. This Blog is meant to call our attention to God being with us on this journey of life. For some people, life is just about moving from one experience to another without examination of the possible meaning and learning held in the experience, including difficult times of struggle and suffering. As Viktor Frankl once said, “Suffering without meaning is simply despair.” I believe that life’s meaning for us already exists, our challenge is to discover it. Most of us spend our life in a state of distraction and feeling distant from God. What if God is always present with us and it is only our awareness of this that is lacking?