Blades of Grass

"If we study Japanese Art, we see a man who is undoubtedly wise, philosophic and intelligent, who spends his time doing what? In studying the distance between the earth and moon? No. In studying Bismark's policy? No. He studies a single blade of grass."  
  -- Vincent Van Gogh

In a fit of stupidity I agreed (several months ago) to participate in an art show. The show is on June 5. As of right now I'm about 3/4 finished with the second of five pieces we're supposed to provide. My primary discipline is painting, and I use acryllics, so I can't even say that I have to wait for the paint to dry and that's what is taking so long. I do have an innate tendency to paint things that are complicated, or very detailed (as a euphemism). Lately, though, I find myself drawn to simpler style. I also find that I enjoy a simpler style. 

The more contemplative my spirituality becomes I notice a tension between it and daily life. Of course, this shouldn't be. Hopefully it's just growing pains. The tension is that a contemplative life demands simplicity and our modern Western culture is anything but. Interiorly there is a longing to simplify the exterior in the same way that the interior simplifies.

When I say "simple" I don't mean "dumbed-down". I mean "essential". To simplify our lives means to get down to the essence of what life is, of what life is about. St. Augustine once said, "Love God, and do what you will." This is a terribly misunderstood and ill-used quote. It doesn't mean pay lip-service to God and then do whatever you want. It means that if you truly love God and order your life toward that love; then do what you will, because it is done in the context of Love of God. In this sense life suddenly becomes very simple. All the things our culture has reared us to worry about can fall away. They can fall because they don't matter, they never did.  

What does this have to do with Asian brush painting or blades of grass? Go back to the top and read the Van Gogh quote again. It's about how we clutter our lives with so many concerns that we don't notice the essence of what we are trying to depict. In the Taoist and Buddhist traditions harmony with nature is paramount, so the artist who is trying to depict nature studies nature. He doesn't just study nature, he contemplates the essence of nature. Anything that distracts him falls away as unimportant. In the Christian tradition we also want a harmony with creation but this comes from being united to God through Christ in the Holy Spirit. Anything that distracts us needs to fall away. We are trying to capture the essence of Christ in our lifes. We are trying to depict Christ in our lives, by our lives. This is what Van Gogh is getting at (well, maybe, but probably not).

The Buddhist painter contemplates the blade of grass in an effort to know the essence of that blade so that when he paints it one brush stroke tells us more about the grass than an entire book on horticulture. He is not trying to mimic the grass, he is trying to depict the grass: huge difference. 

The Christian contemplates the mysteries of Christ. He contemplates so that he becomes that single brush stroke. Our effort is not to mimic Christ, that is only surface, it's fake. We want to depict Him. In our lives we want to breathe the very essence of Christ; "Your will be done..." To do this we have to strip away the fascade and get to Who Christ is, not what we want Him to be or imagine Him to be to satiate our (to copy a new term) "therapudic deism". We want the brush stroke to be so complete in its understanding that in a single stroke is contained the will of God.       

Dawn Patrol

Getting up earlier than I get up for work. Not getting enough breakfast. Not getting enough coffee. Yet, somehow, it still feels like I won.

The dawn patrol is an ancient surfing phenomena where a person will get up way too early in an effort to catch the first wave of the day, with the rising sun. This practice usually results in being damp, smelly, and exhausted for the rest of the day. Also, probably late for work. Strangely enough, though I was late, no one seemed to notice. I don't know if that should bother me or not.

Going on a dawn patrol is part of what makes a surfer. There are many people that surf. Then there are surfers. It isn't about being first or catching the first wave or anything like that. It is more about being present. Surfing early in the morning is like a secret that is shared between you and the waves. While the world is still sleeping, you are surfing.

In the Christian life meditation and the moments of contemplation that come from it are the dawn patrol of the spiritual life. Meditation is waiting on the wave and contemplation is surfing. Mediation is first of all a self-denial; it the denial of the all-important "time" in the Western world. Even worse than wasting time, from an American view meditation commits the ultimate sin; being unproductive. Even more, meditation, if it leads to contemplation, creates a sense of the coming sunrise. It tells us that this is only the very beginning of new day.

I said that surfing in the morning is like a secret shared between you and the waves. Contemplation is a secret shared between you and God. The secret is (are you ready): Here I AM. Was that disappointing? I don't think so. In fact I think the opposite. The secret is that it's not a secret, anymore than it's a secret that there are waves in the morning. So why a secret? Again, like the waves, you have to be present. Everybody knows the waves are there, but they are asleep. If not asleep; busy. We are too busy, too distracted, too productive. We are too busy planning our future that we aren't here for the present. The secret that the Father whispers to His children is only a secret because we aren't listening. We don't have time to listen. No, we won't make time to listen.   

Though the culture may see you as wasting your time, being unproductive, and uselessly denying yourself; you know it's worth it. You know it's worth it because you share the secret; even if only for a moment. No matter what the world thinks, in the end, you know that while they were sleeping you were surfing.

Look at Me!

"Contemplation is nothing else than a secret, peaceful, and loving infusion of God, which if admitted, will set the soul on fire with the Spirit of love."

St. John of the Cross

There is a difference between a person who is religious and a person who is in possession of a spirituality. Before we go any further, I absolutely do not mean those people who utter one of the more stupid statements found in the modern world, "I'm spiritual but not religious". If you want to know why this is so stupid, please say so and I'll elaborate but that's not the point today.

You can be both religious and spiritual or you can be religious. What I mean here by religious is the very basic definition of one who adheres to a religion. In a bigger sense, this means a person who participates in the life of their religion. A religious person goes to church, or synagogue, or temple, or whatever. For our purposes I'll continue the example using Christianity. A religious person attends church (religiously). They tithe. They attend the church's functions. They even serve on things like councils and committees. Very often they are willing to take on leadership positions that have great demands on their time and talents. So... what's the problem? 

If a person is purely religious their piety is external. In other words, it's all for show. There are a couple of reason why this may be. The first is the "Checked-Box Religious" that sees their faith as a series of hurdles to be overcome. They want to make sure their card is punched. They treat God like a cosmic vending machine, "I put in my money, now You have to give me heaven". This is where some people get the idea (the wrong idea) that Catholics believe they can earn their way to heaven by doing good works. Basically, God is an accountant and you have to make sure your balance sheet adds up. 
The second reason is pure self-interest. They wear a thin veil of piety but in reality it's all about them and their ego. This person does all that they do in an effort to be recognized by the population. This is also the type that takes on many projects and then complains (which code for fishing-for-compliments) about all the work they do and all the time they spend at the church, etc.
The common thread running through both is that the outward signs all point to a holy life, on the inside there is no real love of God. 

However, to have a spiritual life implies a religious life. The spiritual life is the interior. Who we are or what we have on the interior is ultimately manifested in our exterior life, which is why I said one can be spiritual and religious; meaning one will certainly have the an exterior manifestation of the interior life. The interior life is what enables us to be religious even when there is no consolation. We are religious because we are spiritual, or we engage in the externals because of the internal. If a person loves God they will also love their neighbor. If a person loves God they will do good works. 

The externals that make up the religious part of our lives are only worth-while to the extent that they provide for continuing interior conversion. It doesn't matter how many rosaries you say if it is a mere mechanical action. What makes prayer "prayer" is the elevation of the heart and mind to God, not a recitation of words. A person is made holy by uniting their will to God's, not by serving on councils. A person who has a deep spirituality certainly may (and probably will) serve the community but they do it because they love God and their neighbor not because they are going to get a plaque or a mention at mass by the pastor. 

That being said, the interior life comes first. You can't help fix your neighbor's house when yours is crumbling. If our exterior life is impeding our interior life we need to step back, or step down, or whatever. If we have taken on so many pious "duties" that we have no time or inclination to actual piety, it's time to reevaluate. God is not an accountant, He is our Father. He doesn't want your balance sheet, He wants your heart.