In the name of the Father, the Son, & the Holy Spirit, One God, Amen!
Reflecting on Intimacy
Who is this God with whom we seek intimacy? It is the good God, the source of goodness and love, who has created all mankind for this purpose and has called us uniquely into being for a relationship of intimacy that cannot be satisfied with anything else. He is not a God who demands religious service from us and threatens to punish us if we do not offer the correct words at the correct time. Nor is he a God with whom we can bargain, so that we offer a certain amount of prayer, and he promises to reward us with gifts of one kind or another. On the contrary, he is a loving God who has called us into being so that we might participate in the gift of himself, of his own life and love, and he asks no more than that we desire this true and abundant life of union with him. The experience of intimacy with God is already the reward for those who seek him, and no other reward is needed or can satisfy.
This first step requires us to recognize that all of the initiative, all of the desire for intimacy, the gracious invitation, comes from the side of God already. This is not something we can demand of God, or need to organize for ourselves, but our very existence as a unique creation is already the sign that God desires this intimacy with us and for us. When we have tried to take control ourselves and have engaged in religious activities hoping that this would cause God to reveal himself to us, we have discovered that acting in our own strength and according to our own understanding does not lead to union with God. It cannot because it represents a false idea of what God is like all together.
When a small infant wriggles and fidgets and is unsettled it finds it hard to experience the intimacy with its mother which would settle it and sooth it. The more it wriggles and fidgets the more it unsettles itself, whatever the cause of its distress. It is only when the infant finally gives in to the soft touch of its mother, the gentle stroking and calming words, that it finds comfort and rest. Many of us are wriggling and fidgeting, and we have never allowed ourselves the stillness which would reveal to us the gentle touch and the calming voice of the Lord. But this is entirely what is required of us. Not that we do more, but that in a sense we do less.
This necessary stillness has its origins in something revealed about God himself. We read in the Old Testament, in 1 Kings 19:11-12, when the Lord appeared to Elijah…
Then He said, “Go out, and stand on the mountain before the Lord.” And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice.
In the Septuagint ancient Greek translation of the Old Testament, the text says…
And after the fire, there was the sound of a light breeze, and the Lord was there.
We can rightly say that stillness matters in our experience, in the seeking after union and intimacy with God, because God reveals himself in stillness and silence, in the still small voice, and the sound of a light breeze. When we are immersed in the exterior noise around us and allow this exterior noise to overwhelm the interior place of the heart, when we are filled with distractions, then we cannot hear the voice of God, especially when we are trying to bring about the experience of God, or the satisfaction of our needs, in our own strength.
There is a time in the day when we pray with hurried words, and with only half-attention, as if God requires us to say words, rather than authentically meet and encounter him on the way so that our hearts burn within us. But if we have made the effort to find a silent space in our lives then we should not waste it with the same hasty, distracted spiritual exercises that occupy us at other times.
We can suggest several different practices from the Orthodox spiritual tradition, as expressions of stillness, as the means of acquiring stillness, and as the means to encounter God more deeply in intimacy.
In the first place, if we have an exterior silence, and we are seeking an interior silence, then the words and prayers and psalms of the Daily Office, whichever one we use, gain a greater transforming power. We discover that we are able to begin to pray them with attention, and this is what true prayer, the authentic encounter with God requires. We can choose the prayers from the Daily Office for the time of day in which we are praying, and we can determine that we will pray them with attention, making them our own, even if we do not have the time on every occasion to complete them. We do not need to pray all the words. God is not pleased by the hurried completion of a rule. It is much better, if we want to have the possibility of experiencing God himself, that we pray less but with as much attention and warmth as possible.
Perhaps we pray the words of the Lord’s Prayer, more slowly than usual, and with more care and attention, but we discover that our mind wanders even so. This does not matter so much, as long as we are aware of our distraction and return to the stillness of prayer and attention focused on God, and as long as each time we pray, we use all of our attention as far as we are able, and as much as we are able. This is a journey we are engaged on. We have not arrived at the goal all at once.
In the second place, if we have an exterior silence, and we are seeking an interior silence, then this is the time to turn to the Scriptures, with whatever reading plan we have at hand. We are not trying to read as much of the Bible as quickly as possible. But we will want to make use of the exterior silence we have created so that our heart and attention can settle into the words we are reading. These also must become an experience and expression of prayer, so that we are reading in the presence of God and expect him to quicken some phrase or sentence especially to us so that it becomes his speaking to us. This communication from God, hearing the light breeze of his voice, is an experience of this divine intimacy.
We discover silence in our use of the Daily Office and the reading of the Scriptures when we abandon all haste and hurry, when we do not have a target that we are trying to achieve as quickly a possible, and when all of our attention finds a stillness and a centredness in the words which we are using and studying and bringing within the heart, and not leaving only to occupy the mind.
This is not simply mindfulness, which has some psychological benefits in producing stillness, but it is a deliberate and definite turning of the attention to God, not to ourselves, and not even to silence and stillness. It is the discovery of a true stillness in the encounter with God. So we must be careful not to bring with us all the disturbance which lies outside the door of our heart, as far as we are able, and that which does intrude into our thoughts while we are in silent prayer and reflection can be stilled by returning the attention again and again to God and the prayers we are offering, the Scriptures we are prayerfully attending to.
There should be no urgency. It is the encounter with God which matters, even if our words are few indeed, and that passage of Scripture we reflect on in God’s presence is very short.
The Orthodox Church especially values the use of a short prayer, such as the Jesus Prayer, in times of silence and stillness such as we are describing. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me. We do not use this as a mantra, but each time we repeat it, slowly and prayerfully, we intend it as a prayer of the heart, filled with attention and warmth. Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me. It is often very useful to have a prayer rope or a string of beads so that we do pray this prayer for a particular amount of time, not that the number matters so much, but because we are easily distracted. Having a prayer rope provides a physical activity for our hands to be occupied with, and the simple words occupy our mind, while the intention, the turning of the heart in prayer towards God, is fulfilled in the increasing experience of the presence of God.
The encounter with God in silence brings about a spiritual stillness and an intimate experience of God, however fragmentary, that begins to affect our daily life. We become quieter people, with an interior stillness, a spiritual stillness, that we bring into all of our activities and conversations. But this requires the effort from us to make silent times and spaces in our life so that this divine stillness can take root and bear fruit. Be still and know that I am God. Everything in our modern world resists this stillness, but if we are willing to make the effort, to discipline ourselves and change the circumstances of our lives even for a short time each day, then we will encounter God as he promises.
The second step is to begin to live in the reality of each day and not in the constructed reality which we often create. When we are always expecting and hoping for something else then it is difficult to participate in the relationships that are open to us. We are always looking for something else and are concerned that the experiences of each day will be lost. Part of our anxiety around intimacy is created by expecting something else all the time. When we have already decided what intimacy looks like we are often liable to miss the opportunity to experience it when it is offered.
What would happen if we expected less, but experienced more? Too often we expect so much, or we expect things that are not real in themselves at all, and then we become disappointed that we do not experience what we have constructed in our mind and emotions. This can prevent us from actually seeing what is already offered to us, from others and from God. It is as if we planted a seed but were always expecting a flourishing plant to appear all at once, so that we ignore the little shoots of growth that need preservation and nourishment, and after much disappointment, we walk away from our garden sure that nothing could ever appear as we expect.
In relation to our experience of God, we need to seek and expect small signs of his presence with us, to begin with. Not because he is not present with us in his fullness, but because we have not grown in our ability to participate in the divine life. When we are learning to walk, we should not be discouraged that we cannot run. When we are learning a new language, we should not be discouraged that we are not yet fluent. When we are learning a musical instrument, we should not be discouraged that we are not yet proficient. And in the same way, in our experience with God, we should look for the signs of our beginning to experience his presence, rather than be dismayed that we have not received all that we imagine or have seen in the experience of others.
We need to take each day at a time. We need to wait and persevere to hear and see what God is doing in our life today, and what experience of God is offered to us today. I’d like to suggest that this means a few things.
In the first place, we must ask God to speak to us and reveal himself to us, in his own way, and in his time, without demanding or expecting how this might express itself. This requires an increasing degree of reflection and interior stillness. How can we become aware of God if we drown out his presence in our lives with so much noise and activity? We must begin to sit quietly as we have already described, and rather than trying to pray a great deal in many words, as if this must please God, we must sit and gently pray the Jesus Prayer, even in the form in which we find it in the Tasbeha – My Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, help me. We pray this gently, slowly, with attention and warmth, not as if trying to produce an emotional response, but as if we truly believe that God hears us. We wait for a spiritual response, a sense that we have connected with God. We do not rush. We do not demand. We do not expect more. But we prevail in this quiet prayer until we sense that our prayer is heard, whatever our feelings.
We must also read a small portion of the Gospel, the Gospel set for the day for instance, and this must also be read in a prayerful manner. What are we trying to achieve? It is not an emotion, but an experience of God. And so, we prayerful reflect on the small number of words we are considering from the Scriptures, and we ask, My Lord, speak to me, illuminate me, grant me a word from yourself for my healing and salvation. We find that phrase or sentence that comes alive to us. But we must not immediately close the Scriptures and get on with our daily life as if it means nothing. If we have asked God to speak to us, and some aspect of the Scripture comes alive to us, then we have to respond.
This is the word of God to us. This is a beginning of our relationship with him, of our intimacy with him. At the least we must thank God for speaking. We must continue to reflect on what has come to us in this time of quiet. We must let it make a difference. This is one of the early keys to developing a closer and more intimate life with God, so that everything changes. We must make use of what we receive from God. This is no more than we learn in the Parable of the Talents. Every small encounter with God, every sense of closeness, of intimacy, must be acknowledged and must make a difference.
Glory to God, Amen!
Source: http://www.stgeorgeministry.com/reflecting-on-intimacy-1/
