Abiding

“Abide in me as I abide in you.” Jesus speaks these words in John 15 in the well known “I am the vine, you are the branches” parable of which songs and poems have been written over the centuries. I like metaphors and I therefore always loved the rich imagery of God as the vinegrower and pruner. I never paid much attention to His command to abide.

Theologian and storyteller Dr. Meg McKenna references this abiding in her introduction to Harm Not the Earth. The verb “abide” is used eleven times in the first eleven verses of John 15. “It is a very religious and biblical word, and one that is not often used in familiar conversation. It means: to tolerate, endure, act in accordance with, remain faithful to (as in a promise). One always abides ‘in’ – it isn’t something one does alone.”

That puts a whole new spin on Jesus’ “wherever two or more are gathered in my name.” He promises His presence with certainty when two or more people pray together. He’s also present when I am alone in prayer without another person, for He is one and I am one and we are one together.

Ever since I read her words several days ago, I've been struck with Jesus' side of abiding in our relationship; what he is tolerating and enduring me the way spouses and friends tolerate and endure each other's idiosyncracies and stubbornnesses; and how He is "acting in accordance with" who I am being and how far I am allowing Him into my heart and life. If I can expand my time with Him, He can expand His work through me. If I can open more of my heart to Him, He can increase my compassionate response to all who my words, my glance, my touch, my voice can reach. In truth, they are His words, glance, touch, and voice to begin with for I am His. He will act in accordance with what I give Him.

When my children were growing up, we'd call them into the front room away from the rest of the house when we wished to speak to them privately. They were always a bit nervous when we did so, for their immediate fear was they'd done something wrong and were about to be chastised. Our response to Jesus when He says, "Come to me (all you who are weary)" is often the same. Our desired conversation with our children was certainly sometimes to correct an approach they were choosing, but more times, it was an encouragement, a suggestion of help with something that was challenging them, or a secret surprise we were planning for another family member.

"Abide in me" requires our choice to do so. He can abide in us only "in accordance with" how much we allow Him to do so. Our gift of free will is unretreivable; God will never take it away. It is eternally ours and honored by God. Our biggest challenge seems to be going to the front room without fear, in complete trust in the enormous gentleness and exquisiteness tenderness of love filled with mercy and faithfulness of the very One Who created us in the first place.

Discerning

"The goal of discerning is to reach purity of heart." Sr. Meg Funk

This is the place of still waters for me, where the waters of our sometimes agitated minds are stilled and we can see clearly what is reflected there, or (for me) hear the still, soft voice of Love Who speaks to my heart when I'm quiet enough to hear Him/Her.

I often resist the good, the God of all creation, because the egoic self is full of itself and thinks it can do without God, rationalizing sometimes: I don't want to bother Him; I can handle this. I loved Sr. Meg's expression: "Our back is to the window of grace.” In our moments of humility (some given to us so that we can hear or see our need for God), that resistance is melted by God's warm grace.

We must follow the impulse of grace... yes! And out praxes (e.g. Centering Prayer, Welcoming Prayer, Jesus Prayer, Guard of the Heart) makes this easier to do.

In my office, we removed a window to create an entrance door in its place. There is only 9 inches of a glass window that runs alongside this door. There is no other way for the light to get in. On days when the weather is warm, we leave the door open to allow more light and air in. On colder or hot, humid days when the door needs to be closed, I immediately pull the thin curtain back to allow daylight to enter the otherwise dark room. Recently, after pulling back the curtain time after time to let the light in, I rolled up the curtain and tied it on top. It will come down now only when the hot summer's sun needs to be blocked for a few hours to prevent the room from overheating (just as we walk between centering prayer sits to prevent the energy from becoming too intense within us).

Stand long enough in the light, and our entire being soon hungers for it deeply, desiring to turn toward it more and more often until one day, the curtain is pulled away forever.