Centering Prayer
The most comforting part of my day takes place when I wake up in the morning. Although I have never been a morning person, this part of my day is set aside to spend with God. Each day starts out the same. My husband brings me a cup of coffee, waking both body and soul. My first thought inevitably, “What needs to be done during my day?”
And, then, there is a pause, an interruption. A voice in my head says, “This is my time to spend with God. It is not the time for thinking.” I sit up, nurse my coffee, and sit quietly with God. I sit, as with a good and trusted friend not needing to say anything but occasionally asking a question.
My solar plexus seems to take notice with a sense of warmth and comfort. Sometimes, I can feel my heart beat. I smile and notice that God must be present; my body’s response silent witness to Divine presence.
Soon, my cat Cinna jumps up on the bed and snuggles close, waiting for his lovies. I scratch underneath his chin, and gently rub his tummy when he rolls on his back. When a cat shows its tummy, I am told that it conveys the sense of “I love you and I trust you completely.” I smile again, thinking that my cat is smarter than I am.
I think about the God who created me and this large, loving seventeen-pound cat. I am reminded of my connection to the created order. Everything and everyone connected beneath the level of conscious awareness, all fashioned by the God who created the heavens and the earth.
When it is time for centering prayer, Cinna usually recognizes it. He frequently sits on the window seat until I am finished, but sometimes he snuggles up closely for the duration. I begin my prayer with the equivalent of a space heater wearing a fur coat cuddling with my body. But it is connection and presence. And, maybe he is seeking to connect to connect with God in his own Kitty cat manner.
As I pray, I dismiss my thoughts and focus on God. Sometimes it is easy to dismiss my thoughts. At other times it feels like whack-a-mole prayer. There are days when I shake my head and remind myself that when praying centering prayer, the one who prays automatically gets an A-plus, just for showing up. I can relate.
I began practicing centering prayer four or five years ago, when I encountered the writings of Richard Rohr. I received his daily meditations and read them eagerly, as they were leading me forward into the journey of discovery that eventually led me to HeartPaths and Retreat House. I remember distinctly that one of his meditations said something about how I (the reader) needed to be involved in contemplative (centering) prayer if I (the reader) was seriously thinking about what he was sharing.
At that time, I knew enough about centering prayer to know that it involved dismissing my thoughts, for at least twenty minutes a clip, at least once a day. Knowing that I liked to talk, and that my mind seemed to move forward at breakneck speed, I did not believe that I could actually do it. But his challenge stuck with me.
A few days later, at a staff meeting at my church, our lead pastor asked the staff whether anyone was giving anything up for Lent. As staff members spoke about giving up meat or desserts, or some part of social media, I remember sitting there and thinking that we Lutherans always seem to do “Lent lite.” I opened my mouth and words came tumbling out, fast and furious, voicing what I was thinking. I said something like “During Ramadan, Muslims fast from both food and water from sunrise until sundown. And, I’m going to give up some chocolate or wine, and that is going to be my big sacrifice for Jesus?”
And then, to my horror, these words came racing out of my mouth. “This year, I am going to do one sit of centering prayer, twenty minutes each day, for Lent. The recommendation is for two, but I don’t think I can manage that. Please pray for me, as I will be in a straight-jacket by Easter.”
There was dead silence at the conference table where our staff met. A couple of incredulous looks. I wondered whether anyone was thinking. “She’ll never make it.” While others might be yearning to cry out, “Good luck on that one!”
My brain yelled at my mouth, saying, “What did you just do?” And, I remember consoling myself, thinking:
“Well, at least this one Lent, Jesus will have a sacrifice from me that really means something, by golly!”
No one was more surprised than I was, when after a few weeks, I began to notice small shifts in myself. Nothing major but a little less reactivity, my thoughts slowing down just a bit. By the end of Lent, I was up to two sits a day. It was not easy, and I am not some sort of prayer superstar. I continued praying this way, because when I did, God showed up somehow. Even thought the practice was hard, God seemed to be drawing closer to me and I was beginning to wake up to God’s presence in my life.
Praying centering prayer is still challenging. During the pandemic, there have been days when my mind has been filled with sticky thoughts. I discovered that the fruit of the prayer shows up in the life I live every day. What I especially noticed was that God not only gave me life, but a life worth living. God’s companionship on my journey comforts me, in any and all circumstances. As I do my best to live through what has become a year of stress and suffering, I am reminded of the words of Teresa of Avila: “Whoever has God wants for nothing.”
Rev. Dr. Jackie Linden Schade is a trained spiritual director, pastor and writer. You can learn more about her here. “Centering Prayer” was originally published in Retreat House’s House of book series House of Comfort.