I Sought for Him but I Found Him Not
- Mar 16, 2018
- 5 min read
When we arrived for retreat, a recent snowfall was still fresh and clean on the ground. On Day 2 of retreat, the sun was out in full force, the smell of Spring was clearly in the air, and the snow was rapidly receding in the relative warmth.
My first meditation of the day was John 15:1-12. I was especially struck by the proportion (once in a while, even Math works its way into my prayer): His statement of love"as the Father has loved Me, so I have loved you" and His command, "love one another as I have loved you". It's really kind of mind-blowing when you think about it. The Love of the Trinity is love beyond our wildest capacity to imagine, but Christ is saying that the love He pours out on us is of the same intensity with which the Father loves Him. And we in turn are called to that same love for one another. Obviously, our capacity to love is nothing like Christ's capacity to love - but the point is that what we're always striving for and growing towards is to be caught up into the eternal and perfect exchange of Love that is the Trinity.
I spent a good deal of time outside - we were across the street from the lake and next door to the seminary. The seminary woods held a cemetery at the center of which was a nearly life-sized Crucifix. I went often to the foot of the Cross, sat there in the sunlight and the growing Spring, and some incredibly profound moments happened there. On my first excursion there though, I began a poem, a love poem really, which, though true, was what I wanted to feel, rather than what was truly happening in my heart. I also found a wonderful little spot that was dry in the melting snow, sheltered from the wind, and full in the sun and there I finished writing my poem.
In Spiritual Direction that day, my director asked of me a relatively small sacrifice to be made throughout the retreat. Although I intellectually I accepted it as perfectly reasonable and even wise, something was triggered inside me which I tried to ignore.
But it cast a shadow and when I went to pray with Song of Songs later that afternoon, the shadow lengthened. Now, I love Song of Songs. The imagery can be pretty bizarre to our modern minds, but it is beautiful poetry and can be incredible for prayer, so I was really excited for this prayer time. I went back to the place I had prayed earlier, but shadows were lengthening physically as well as afternoon drew on, and it was harder to stay in the warmth of the sun. And as I read through the poetry I loved, I found myself full of fear, hurt, and panic, instead of the loveliness and beauty that I was expecting to experience. Ever the perfectionist, I tried to pretend it wasn't happening, to will myself out of it, but the reality was, I was struggling. In this state, the line that stuck out to me was very different than what I would usually spend time on: I sought him but I found him not / I called him but he gave no answer.
The conference that night was on sin and forgiveness. Father talked about the proper attitude towards sin - neither ignoring its reality, nor being so scrupulously aware of it that it becomes all you can see, but rather acknowledging its reality, then moving on to the overwhelming, merciful Love of God. He also emphasized the power of the words "I forgive you" as opposed to simply trying to excuse the wrong (which, incidentally, is a theme that has come up a lot in the last year in really beautiful ways). He talked about the beauty of Confession and how it is an opportunity to exercise honesty, courage, and humility all at once. All of these were incredibly important for me in the days to come.
My final prayer period that night was on Mark 1:21-39 and I did it in the Ignatian style of meditation. If you've never experienced imaginative prayer in the style of St. Ignatius, I highly encourage you to try. By asking God to bless your imagination and using it to enter into a Gospel story in a tangible way, Christ's work on earth becomes more and more concretely a part of your lived experience. And it's also just an incredibly beautiful and profound way to pray.
Choose a passage (this method of prayer is especially well suited to Gospel stories) and set aside at least a half an hour, preferably more like a full hour.
Ask God to bless your imagination and to guide your prayer. [Lord, grant that all my intentions, thoughts, actions, desires, and imaginings may be directed purely to the greater service and praise of Your Divine Majesty]
Read through the passage a couple of times to familiarize yourself with what's going on.
Set the scene of the passage in your imagination - rather like setting up a movie scene. What does it look like (in detail)? What does it smell like? What's the weather like? etc. Find a character to play - whether it's a bystander, one of the apostles, the person being healed by Jesus. Whoever it is, put yourself in a place where you can be close to Jesus and see what He's doing
Ask for the grace of the meditation - Jesus, grant that by this meditation I may come to know You more intimately, love You more ardently, and follow You more closely.
Live the scene. Watch it unfold in detail. Don't be afraid of the scene surprising you sometimes. Take your time.
Colloquy - this is maybe the most important and yet, somehow, really easy for me to forget. Go to the apostles, Mary, whoever you want to talk to in the scene, but at least and always to Jesus. And while remaining in the scene have a conversation. You can start by asking Him about what just happened. But then talk to Him also about anything and everything that's going on in your life and heart. And listen for what He wants to say.
Close by asking "Jesus, is there anything else?", listening, and then closing with the Our Father.
The majority of Holy Hours on this retreat were in this method, so I'll be referring to it a lot.
The Mark 1 passage is a chance to spend an ordinary day with Jesus - to watch how He spends His time. He starts out with teaching and healing in the synagogue and that was cool. But then He goes to the house of Peter's mother-in-law to heal her of her illness. The next we hear of him is that night when the sick of the town come to her door to be healed by Him. Which means that he spent the whole afternoon just chilling with his apostles in the house of Peter's mother in law. I was a little intimidated and unsure of what to do with this time and then Jesus, in the meditation, asked me how I wanted to spend the time. And so we spent the day hanging out with my little cousin who I love and miss (and I only realized today that this meditation was on her birthday), singing Irish songs, taking our time and lounging around, hanging out and goofing off in the lush grass in the golden cool of late afternoon.
In the colloquy at the end, I asked him about why I had freaked out earlier. He explained to me how in my current context, Song of Songs was triggering a lot of old wounds and identity lies that needed to be healed so that I could be free. A little overwhelmed and unsure of where to begin, I questioned Him about what to do and His answer was make space for me. (More on how that's supposed to work tomorrow, when He explained it more to me). See you then!
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