Facing Mortality at 86

 

“Death is no respecter of love.”

While I write this on the eve of my 86^th birthday, two houses away our neighbor and good friend Bill, who is 93, lies in bed weakened by cancer and facing the transience from this life to eternity. We are praying for his comfort and peace at the last.  His wife, Karen, at his side as she has been for 38 years – now caring for his every need as best she can.  Several months ago, our good friend Peter died, also of cancer.  Paula his beloved wife and helpmate for 60 years is now in mourning - left with a lifetime of memories – “I miss, miss, miss him so!” she wrote.

It is a hard thing to lose the love of your life, and this is what the book I just read is mostly about, though it is also about the conversion to Christianity of the author and his wife.

I just finished reading Sheldon Vanauken’s book, A Severe Mercy: A Story of Faith, Tragedy, and Triumph – which has left me with much to ponder as I contemplate the themes of this superb work about life, death and grief, and above all, love.   This is a memoir and true story of Vanauken's marriage and relationship with his wife, Davy. It begins upon their meeting and idealized love where they literally vowed to share everything – and did.  Along the road he explains how they entered into their "pagan love" and formed a “shinning barrier” against all that would separate them.  But they moved on to a different understanding of their relationship during their time in Oxford where he studied literature and history, and, because of the people who become their friends and extensive reading, explored and chose to become Christians.  One of the authors they read happened to be right there at Oxford, CS Lewis.  Thus began a lifelong friendship with an exchange of many letters, about 20 of which are included in the book.

Back in the States Davy is stricken by a viral disease of the liver which is terminal, and Sheldon deals with deep questions of why this young woman has to die.  The second half of the book is about her death and the way of grief.

The quote above is one short line out of many notable quotes from the book.  Another, which references the title of the book, came from a letter to him from CS Lewis, who told Vanauken… “You have been treated with a severe mercy. You have been brought to see (how true & how very frequent this is!) that you were jealous of God. So, from US you have been led back to US AND GOD; it remains to go on to GOD AND US.” 

Then the author goes on to say, “That death, so full of suffering for us both, suffering that still overwhelmed my life, was yet a severe mercy. A mercy as severe as death, a severity as merciful as love.”

Severe Mercy was published in 1977 and I’m not sure why it has taken me so long to read it, as it has many quotes and letters from CS Lewis.  While in England in 1960-61 I read and was changed by reading books by Lewis – that is, moved to a more mature understanding of Christianity in my life. But I would guess that many of my Christian friends would not have read Vanauken either, though we were all fans of Lewis. 

Vanauken tells of how he and his wife Davey when they were studying in Oxford, met and were influenced by Lewis as they moved to make the choice to become Christians.  The writing about it is poignant and thought provoking. One which I have seen referenced many times but didn't realize it came from Vanauken is this:

 “The best argument for Christianity is Christians: their joy, their certainty, their completeness. But the strongest argument against Christianity is also Christians--when they are sombre and joyless, when they are self-righteous and smug in complacent consecration, when they are narrow and repressive, then Christianity dies a thousand deaths.  But, though it is just to condemn some Christians for these things, perhaps, after all, it is not just, though very easy, to condemn Christianity itself for them."

There is an abundance of reviews of this classic online, written by both Christian and secular reviewers. Many tell of how the book impacted them personally. There were numerous touching images, some written in poems by both Sheldon and Davey, and intimate scenes like the one of the moment Davey dies.

While facing the reality of the death everyone faces, I am thankful to have come to 86 years of life in a good place physically, emotionally and spiritually.  Life is full of blessings that I am aware of every day, especially that of having the love of my life, Judy, at my side every day. I am comforted by the promise of the Gospels.

 

A Sit

 

That’s what it is called; the twenty minutes of silence observed during the contemplative practice known as Centering Prayer.  A few days ago, I did a sit with a group doing centering prayer at a local Roman Catholic church.  These practitioners, a mixture of Protestants and Catholics, seem to have been together for a while, so no instructions were given.  After a brief introduction by a newcomer (me) and a short reading, they listened for the reverberating gong from a brass bowl as a signal to begin twenty minutes in silence.  I knew what the instructions are though: choose a sacred word and sitting comfortably with eyes closed, silently introducing that word as a symbol of your consent to God’s presence and action within.  When thoughts, feelings, images and reflections come to mind “return ever-so-gently to the sacred word”. 

Not so easy as you’d think. My friend Bruce, who does thirty minute sits every day, and has been doing so for 7 or 8 years, says, “you can’t NOT think” – and I know that from experience.  My brain is very active and typically takes me to everything from my not so urgent “to do” list to an internal conversation with someone to whom I am explaining centering prayer.  You are supposed to just say your chosen word internally when required, and I find I need it almost constantly, sort of like a mantra. The idea is not to try to empty the mind, but to use the sacred word to bring you back and remind you of the divine presence.   – a presence which is always there, whether we recognize it or not.

After this recent session, I commented to Mark, sitting next to me, that as a daily practice (a whole 20 minutes!) this would be quite difficult for busy working people who are running headlong through their daily lives, barely keeping up with all the demands of their schedules.  Smiling, Mark replied, “yeah, but that sort of gets to the WHY of centering prayer, doesn’t it?”  Indeed, in a world of harried schedules, multiply demands on time, burnout and anxiety, WHY NOT take 20 minutes out of the day to be quiet, be in silence in the divine presence.  That’s a logical reason but not seen as “practical” for most.

Contemplative prayer might have been a part of the human experience since the beginning of civilization, and in the Christian tradition such practice can be traced to Jesus and to the desert fathers and mothers in Egypt in the first centuries after Christ.  I have wondered what Jesus was doing where it is recorded that…. Very early in the morning while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place and prayed” Mark 1:35.  My image is that he was in need of a quiet time to simply be present to and with God.  I don’t see him as presenting a long list of verbal petitions but just resting in that present moment and in deep communion with his Heavenly Father.  

Centering prayer is the name of the contemplative prayer practice developed by several Trappist monks, Thomas Keating and William Menninger, at St Benedict’s Monastery in Snowmass, Colorado.  One of the rules, or guidelines, is to make CP a daily practice, not just a “try it out” type of experience to see if it “works” for you.  I must acknowledge that I have dipped in and out of contemplative practices in the past but have never been a consistent practitioner.  I have gone to retreats and read about it, including some of the mystics, like Thomas Merton and the anonymous medieval English classic, “The Cloud of Unknowing”.  I can grasp the concept of and desire a closer union with God but sometimes the writing is obscure, and it is a slow read for me, which I must take in sips rather than gulps.  But Merton did very concretely say, “if you have never had any distractions, you don’t know how to pray”.  Well, that’s pretty consoling, actually.

My main spiritual practice has been a form of lexio divina, the four-part practice of praying the scriptures 1. listen/read; 2. meditate on its meaning for you; 3. prayers that arise from that Word, and finally 4. contemplacio – sitting wordlessly and resting in God’s presence.  Contemplation, however, does not necessarily flow naturally out of the other three in a single sitting.  For me, contemplation seems best at a separate time and sometimes comes on walks, not sits.

Recently I’ve been prompted (by the Holy Spirit?)  to give more attention to contemplative practice, and I have been attracted by a somewhat newer outgrowth of Centering Prayer, called Welcoming Prayer, a practice of letting go in the present moment in the ordinary routines of daily life.  Ample information on both Centering Prayer and the Welcoming Prayer can be found on the Contemplativeroutreach.org website.   While Centering Prayer is a silent, receptive practice which is done every day for a determined length of time, the practice of the Welcoming Prayer is active consent-on-the-go and in the midst of daily life and can be much shorter.  I won’t say much more here as this is getting too long already.  Suffice it to say, I have found Welcoming Prayer to be a helpful and healthy, body focused practice that can be employed, as they say, “on the go”. 

I close with a short exercise that can lead to a quieting of the mind and heart, Psalm 46:10 Breathing slowly and say slowly the words,

“Be still and know that I am God”,

                Then say,

Be Still and Know that I am….

Then,

Be still and know that….

Then,

Be Still and Know….

Then,

Be Still….

Finely,

Be…                              Then stay in silence for a few minutes.