Shared Silence

Tonight, as on the first and third Wednesday of every month, my church's (see "Sunday Hangout" link @ right) contemplative prayer group met. My wife, myself, and three other women from my parish (two absent tonight) gather on these nights in a candlelit classroom in the church basement to sit in silence for an hour and, as the teaser in each week's church bulletin says, "practice the presence of God."

It's a very informal and individualized gathering. When the group was organized about two years ago, we spent part of each meeting learning about different approaches to contemplative prayer: mantras, zen-style meditation, focusing on icons or images, praying with beads. Now, each of us has a style we're comfortable with. I like to begin with beads (an Anglican rosary, actually), then simply sit with a still mind after I finish my rounds. The individual prayers I say on the beads aren't always that meaningful per se, but sometimes whatever concerns I have at the moment may attatch to them. Sometimes after I finish the beads, I discover what I truly need to pray about.

Is it really an hour in the presence of God? I don't know. My skepticism about sentimental religious experience makes is hard to affirm this unreservedly. The group is certanly a good experience. There are nights when my mind wanders hopelessly, but often, I do feel distinctly centered, or sense a richness and joy in what is outwardly an utterly ordinary moment, sandwiched between the usual demands of home and work. That richness, I suspect, may well be in all moments, though it's vulnerable to our myriad distractions.

At the very least, these meetings do offer an hour in the presence of people who seek God, which can be uplifting in itself.

Of course, visitors are most welcome.