Where Two or Three are Gathered; Ice, Stranded

In the infancy of this blog, I wrote about the contemplative prayer group I participate in at my church. It still meets every 1st and 3rd Wednesday in the church basement, though we now count only three members as opposed to the five we had then. In the group's first year we had 10-12 people at each meeting. It got a little crowded, though I suspect we'll never have that problem again. I have worked on promoting it, through announcements at other church gatherings and participating in "minstry fairs" (where organizers of different church groups put out food and set up booths to talk to fellow parishoners about their activities and entice them to join). All that has produced only couple of email queries, which never resulted in a visit. Maybe the prospect caught a whiff of holy desperation in my enthusiastic replies.

The low attendance is discouraging, though it isn't the primary reason why, lately, I've found myself wondering more and more if it's worthwhile to continue attending. My own meditation "practice" has been pretty tepid of late. At times, the prayer group at church is its only vestige. And that gathering feels increasingly rote. Or rather, like an obligation or imposition, not like a need, a gift, or a priveledge.

Kristine and I, having the church keys, are in fact obliged to be there. As the group's "coordinator" I lead the group (i.e., my wife and one elderly woman) through our three part ritual in which one of us share something we have read that they found interesting, then pray silently in whatever form we like, and end by saying the Compline office together. I've encouraged the others to play "leader" on occasion but they're happy with me doing it.

I actually like the routine, especially the opening discussion. Talking about texts--that's me all the way. And I find compline a soothing, centering conclusion to the day. It's the time in between I struggle with. Most of the meditative "techniques" I've relied on--focusing on breath or words, prayer beads--seem to fall flat. I remain as inert as a rock, though nowhere near as calm. The sort of quotidian thoughts and fantasies I usually try to empty from my mind easily jump the fences of practice and run riot. I've taken to directing more scrutiny on them (I have to do something for 45 minutes), which I suppose is still a valid form of contemplation, though it is one I could do that anywhere.

But Kristine and Alice still think it's worthwhile to meet in the church croft every other week to be alone with God together. I'm not wholly in agreement, but I don't want to take away what they still find meaningful. I used to go to prayer group for what I got out of it--peace of mind, stillness, intense religious emotions, what have you. What motivates me now is the good that others get from it, whatever that is. It has become primarily a way to serve others. And so in a sense it is a gift and a priveledge, perhaps fulfillng a need deeper than that for cool water and trout.

If I can hold that thought until 8:30, I'll be fine.


Tim over at The Where Project posted some photos of what happens when a river freezes while receding from a flood. All I could nab was a thumbnail...



...but it's worth a visit to see the gallery of full-size images. Check it out.