Life is not only about the busy round of activities and relationships; it is also about withdrawal and the practices of solitude. And it is in these practices we can find insight, renewal, and inspiration. In these spiritual routines we can also gain a better equilibrium as well as health and wellbeing.
But there is more. In spiritual practices we want to grow not only in self-insight, but also in our love for others and in our concern for the world. Meditation is not to feed one’s narcissism but one’s growth and wholeness that is both self-nurturing and other-regarding.
And while reflective practices may remain at the horizontal level, this reader includes the importance of the transcendental dimensions of
human existence. And it does it particularly within the wider Christian
tradition. As such, this book acknowledges the importance and value of a faith relationship with God the Creator and Redeemer who, in the face of Christ, has written us the clearest letter of his love and purposes.
In drawing on the wider Christian tradition, this book has
specifically focused on what is often the most neglected phase of the tradition—the period from the early church fathers up to the pre-Reformation reformers. But interestingly, some key figures in this period are enjoying a present-day comeback. One is St. Benedict. The other is St. Francis. But so are medieval mystics such as Hildegard of Bingen and Julian of Norwich. And of course, Celtic spirituality is enjoying contemporary interest.
So, what may we gain from reflecting on key sayings of these and many other writers from this period?
The first thing is the sense that all of life is sacred. There is no such thing as a secular sphere and a spiritual sphere. All of life is to reflect the goodness and glory of God. All of life is a prayer. St. Benedict’s voice is important on this point.
The second thing is the importance of a sacramental view of life. This means normal things may carry and mediate to us a deeper spiritual reality. The world reflects something of the glory of God. Friendship is a symbol of the Trinity. Brotherhood and sisterhood demonstrate the friendship of Christ. Hospitality is a glimpse of the welcome of God. Bread and wine, the presence of Christ. Anointing oil, God’s healing presence. Thus, all of life is charged with grandeur of God and is impregnated with the holy. St. Augustine is but one important voice regarding these matters.
Thirdly, while the writers of the ancient wisdom stress the mystery of God, they celebrate God’s knowability. They speak of the traces of God in pagan philosophies, the beauty of God in nature, the revelation of God in Scripture, the voice of God in human affairs, the unveiling of God in our dreams, and the presence of God in the sacraments. While for us the knowability of God is such a problem, for them it was a matter of becoming attentive to the many signs already given. Thus, they stressed contemplative practices in order to hear God’s voice more clearly. John Cassian has much to teach us here.
Fourthly, the culture of these many centuries was fundamentally hierarchical and patriarchal, and while this was reflected in the church’s art and theology, the martyrs, theologians, monks, and mystics in this book speak of an amazing intimacy with God. God for them was like a father and mother. And for some, their intimacy with Christ was of such dimensions that they received the stigmata. St. Anselm speaks much of the motherly compassion of God and St. Francis is a witness to a form of intimacy that resulted in his bearing the marks of Christ.
Fifthly, while the writers of the ancient wisdom celebrated both the knowability and intimacy with God, they nevertheless practiced a committed discipleship. Their passion was to be like Jesus, to obey him, to reflect him in the world, and to do the works of the kingdom of God. Unlike our half-hearted discipleship in the modern world, our ancient forebears knew a lot about the cost of discipleship and clearly challenge us in this regard. One key voice amongst many others on this theme is that of Thomas à Kempis.
Sixthly, the final outworking of a committed discipleship for some of our witnesses in this reflective reader is the embrace of a martyr’s death. Baptized into Christ and into the faith community, and baptized in the Spirit, they embraced a baptism of blood. In this they became true witnesses in fidelity to the gospel of the Christ they acknowledged, even in the face of death. There are many of their voices in these pages, including that of Justin Martyr.
Seventhly, while there are voices in these pages that reflect a more intellectual and rational understanding of faith, there are other voices in the Christian mystical tradition that highlight more the mystery of God, the grace of unknowability, and the desert and darkness in the Christian’s journey. That such voices are part of the ancient wisdom is an encouragement for us today as we seek to live a spirituality beyond the modernity paradigm. Here the voice of Meister Eckhart is a challenging guide.
Eighthly, living in a present-day setting where many Christians have a most tenuous relationship with the institutional church and where the church itself has lost much of its social standing, the voices of the past point us in a new direction. In their time the church also had its problems. But instead of abandoning the church our forebears took on the shame and weakness of the church and were willing to suffer it into recovery and renewal. St. Catherine of Siena and Hildegard of Bingen are but two of many witnesses.
Finally, the list could go on and on, as there is much we can gain from these voices from the past. There is much in these pages about prayer, meditation, and contemplation. These pages speak about Christian witness and service to the world. There are voices who speak about both the motherhood and fatherhood of God. There are reflections that speak about justice and nation building. And there are voices who speak of the hope of God’s final future in new heavens and a new earth.
Fourteen hundred years is no sprint in the park. But many contemporary Christians are sprinters. They almost think Christianity came into being with their faith awakening and so have little sense of the rich tradition that is theirs. This book, in a small way, is an invitation to discover this rich heritage—to hear the ancient wisdom.
Psalm 103:1–5
January 1
The God Who is for Us
The God of the biblical story is both wholly other and wholly concerned. This God is both veiled in mystery and made himself known in the nakedness of Golgotha’s cross.
The grand song of the biblical narrative is that God, the creator of the world, is especially attentive to humanity. And this attentiveness is not like critical parents frustrated with their teenage son or daughter.
Even though God is before all things and above all things, God has chosen to enter the human fray. And we can know God not only in the otherness of God’s mystery, but in the presence of God’s caring love.
St. Augustine gets to the heart of all of this. He writes, “I [have]
always believed that Thou art and that Thou hast a care for us.”1
The mere knowledge of God is not the heartbeat of the biblical story. The center of the narrative is that this God draws near. This God cares. This God comes to redeem and make us whole.
And it is in Christ that we can most fully see the way in which God has drawn near to us. Fully amongst us. Full of compassion. Full of grace. Full of healing power.
The God who is for us is not the God who seeks to control, but is the God who seeks to make us whole. God’s care is one of self-giving love.
Reflection
The safest place in all the world is to be sheltered in the love of God.
Psalm 42:1
January 2
The Longing Heart
While the God of the biblical