Contradictions

     I’ve been reading Thomas Merton’s book, New Seeds of Contemplation.  The focus of the book is how to approach contemplative prayer.  And although I’m half-way through the book, my mind keeps wandering back to Chapter 4.  In Chapter 4 Merton says, “For until we love God perfectly His world is full of contradiction.  The things He has created attract us to Him and yet keep us away from Him.”  It is this point of contradiction that is keeping me from absorbing the rest of the book.  Points of resistance, especially in resistance to prayer, is an opportune place to stop, break open and explore.  For it’s through these places the potential for growth lies.  (And then maybe I can finish the rest of the book.)

     So I read this pearl of wisdom from Merton and my heart sank.  If this is the case, then how can one get closer to God?  I do this.   ALL THE TIME.  I find a way in which I best connect and then I cling to it.   If I stumble upon a God moment, say while I’m walking in the woods, I do my best to return to that spot and recreate that moment.  If God’s love is revealed to me through a person and our conversation, I look to schedule time with them again as soon as possible.  If I decide that this retreat or that author or this homilist or that prayer gives me comfort, I will strive to repeat the experience over and over.  And indeed, I believe we all should pursue ways that bring us closer to Him.  Desiring connection with our Creator is the greatest desire of the heart.  I am not saying that we should stop spending time in these pursuits.  We should always continue to be seekers in ways that are pleasing to God.

     But eventually, we may hit a rut in the spiritual journey where the same “thing” doesn’t bring us any closer to God.  It becomes empty and doesn’t fill the void.  The person who brought me so much joy may have moved away or is in their own place of desolation.  The retreat house that I once attended yearly has shut down, and I can no longer seek rest and solace at that  place.  The thriving ministry I was once a part of no longer brings me joy, yet I remain since it’s been a part of me for so long.  I need to stop and ask myself, “Am I clinging to a moment that has passed?  Have I turned this part of God’s creation into my own little idol?”

     Merton says, “The anguish we find [in them] belongs to the disorder of our desire which looks for a greater reality in the object of our desire than is actually there:  a greater fulfillment than any created thing is capable of giving.”  The piece of creation has itself become the lifeline instead of its Creator.  The gift has become the focal point instead of the gift-giver.  And once the gift becomes the focus, the grip on it becomes tighter and tighter.  What at one time brought us closer to God, now brings separation.  We’ve taken our gaze off of God and placed it on what’s in our hands.  Is the solution simply to take our eyes off of what we’re gripping so tightly and place our gaze back on God?  Once we do this, perhaps we don’t even have to let go of what we’ve been clinging to.  If we open our hands a bit, perhaps God will breathe life back into what we’ve been smothering?  Or is the call to release our hold completely, emptying our hands so God can fill them with some new part of His creation, not yet revealed to us?

*Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation, The Abbey of Gesthsemani, Inc., 1961.