Covering everything from St. Augustine to Harry Potter, this far-reaching talk from Simeon Zahl at the recent Mbird Midwest Conference exceeded even the loftiest of expectations!
Simeon Zahl – The World Is a Hospital: Reality in Christian Perspective from Mockingbird on Vimeo.
Fabulous talk. I am excited to go back to Augustine, and also find the referenced art and pull up my T.S. Eliot for Little Gidding as well. Really marvelous (and I also was motivated to order Simeon’s new book on the Holy Spirit).
[…] the theologian Simeon Zahl drew a contrast between a Manichean and a Christian world-view. While few may know much of the ancient religion of […]
[…] only works if “we” are righteous and “they” are not. The world, however, much more like a hospital, than the blank and white pieces of a […]
[…] Centering prayer can be so helpful, truly the work of God, as we practice regularly sitting with Him in love, and returning to Him again and again when our thoughts pull us elsewhere. It’s a life-long discipline for sure. And funny enough, to your point about still learning from people of faith and loving them but not totally agreeing with them, centering prayer enables us to be detached in a healthy way while keeping Christ at the center. Joey: So much to respond to in this, Janell! I think one reason I wonder if centering prayer maybe just isn’t for me (at least not yet) is that any time I’ve been in situations where a group attempts such a thing, and we’re supposed to imagine ourselves somewhere else, I just can’t do it. I get distracted, and start thinking about other things. I appreciate that the author of Cloud writes that “contemplation is God’s work. He chooses which souls participate, and his decision isn’t based on individual merit. Without God’s intervention, no saint or angel would even think to desire contemplative love…He Wants us to see that he is all merciful and all powerful and can work however, wherever, and whenever he wants.” And doesn’t generally seem to imply that there is something inherently superior about this form of contemplative prayer. I think it tracks with Rowan Williams’ quote that “the freedom of the Holy Spirit is uncircumscribed.” Centering prayer is a good practice for many, specifically if/when God wants it to be for that particular person in that particular moment, but for others, it could come up totally empty. As the Cloud author writes later still, “He knows our diverse needs and decides what best benefits each of us.” And who’s to say that what benefits me now won’t change in the future whether that be tomorrow or 30 years from now? I’m going to go back to receptivity being key again, not just in contemplative prayer, but in the Christian life in general. The author of Cloud writes a couple pages later, “In short, let God’s grace do with you what it wants.” Maybe I should have another go at centering prayer with that as my phrase, “God, let your grace do with me what it wants,” and see if that helps? I have tried this somewhat more successfully (just meaning with less frequent distraction than with picturing something in my mind) using the Jesus prayer (“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner”), which I was introduced to via Salinger’s Franny and Zooey when I was 16. Focusing on a short phrase is more natural to me than focusing on my breath or on imagining I’m elsewhere. I like the idea that in certain forms of prayer, we don’t need very many words. The author of Cloud gets at this in one of my favorite parts of the book: “When a person is terrified by fiery catastrophe, someone’s death, or something similar, they cry out for help. That’s obvious. But what do they say? I can promise you a person in danger won’t pray a long string of words or even a word of two syllables. Why not? When desperate, you’ve got no time to waste. At your wits’ end and scared to death, there’s no time for babbling or big words–you’ll scream, “Fire!” or “Help!” and this one-word outburst works best.” Because, he adds on a helpfully pastoral note, “God always hears a shriek of pain and helps the soul in agony.” Though, I’d once again want to clarify that God isn’t predictable, so that doesn’t mean we’ll receive help in exactly the way we want. On a similar note, I know that you are only saying that in the specific context of centering prayer that “There is no ‘getting a word from the Lord,’ or beseeching God to do something. It’s all about learning how to be content.” But I want to make sure that no one reads this as saying there is no place for petitionary prayers that actually hope for something other than ourselves to change. I have heard this line of thought extended outside the realm of centering prayer into daily prayer life, and I think at that point it becomes toxic, and leads to hopelessness. If all we can expect out of any form of prayer is to learn to be content in all matters, we are missing many vital streams of our faith tradition, and missing out on real relationship with God. It is good to learn to be content in certain things, but I think it’s akin to spiritual death to feel that way about everything. I do think you’re right that a healthy amount of detachment is helpful in our relationships, specifically when, as you said, we are able to keep Christ at the center. I recently re-listened to an older talk of Paul Zahl’s where he gets into what seems to me a Christian vision of detachment, specifically in regards to loving others well, and ultimately dying well. Saying that if we can “cleave to those things that are abiding” rather than getting stuck on the non-lasting things of this world, it would be better overall for us and for those we love. But I think there’s an obvious distinction from a more Eastern view that all attachment or desire is a problem. For Christians, it’s only a problem when these attachments and desires become disordered. […]