button image: Information about NACC
Board of Directors
Information about Membership
Information about Certification
Positions Available/Wanted
NACC Vision Publication
Resources and Links
Annual Conference
Annual Conference
Shop NACC
Return to NACC's Home Page

 
Google

Advent 2007 Day of Recollection
Northwest Gathering

Cultivating a Contemplative Presence:
Being the “Thinking Heart” within Your Ministry Settings


An Interrupted Life and Letters from Westerbork by Ettie Hillesum, translated by Arnold J. Pomerans. Ettie Hillesum was a brilliant young Dutch woman who died in Auschwitz at age 29.


1. Cultivate a cultural critique: To be aware of contemporary influences that bankrupt our capacity to be aware of, notice, listen to the “mystery” present. In the midst of all of our activity how is God wanting to reveal Mystery to us?

“Of course, it is our complete destruction they want! But let us bear it with grace. There is no hidden poet in me, just a little piece of God that might grow into poetry. And a camp needs a poet, one who experiences life there, even there, as a bard and is able to sing about it.” An Interrupted Life, p. 235.

2. Cultivate appreciation: To be sensitive to and appreciate of God’s Presence, Life, in the multifaceted ways God is experienced.

“I stared out through the large open window. And it was once more as if life with all its mysteries was close to me, as if I could touch it. I had the feeling that I was resting against the naked breast of life, and could feel her gentle and regular heartbeat.” “An Interrupted Life, p. 115.

3. Cultivate great desires: What great desires for those I love, for those I am responsible, for the least in our midst? How are they a part of what directs and drives me?

“I am beginning to suffer from insomnia, and that’s not allowed. I jumped out of bed at the crack of dawn and knelt down at my window. The tree stood motionless out there in the grey, still morning. And I prayed, ‘God, grant me the great and mighty calm that pervades nature. If it is Your wish to let me suffer, then let it be one great, all-consuming suffering, not the thousand petty anxieties that can break a human being. Give me peace and confidence. Let every day be something more than the thousand everyday cares. All those worries about food, about clothing, about the cold, about our health – are they not so many denials of You, my God? And don’t You come down on us hard in punishment! With insomnia and with lives that have ceased to be worth living! I want to lie here quietly for another few days, but then I would wish my life to turn into one great prayer. One great peace. To carry my peace about me once again.” An Interrupted Life.

4. Cultivate a satisfaction with littleness and ordinariness: Holding on to, as source of sustenance, the small things that happen in a day, moments of nourishment, satisfaction, calm, hope.

“Give me a small line of verse from time to time, oh God, and if I cannot write it down for lack of paper or light, then let me address it softly in the evening to Your great heaven. But please give me a small line of verse now and then.” An Interrupted Life, p. 225.

5. Cultivate a sense of celebration: Within our home, faith community, and workplace make a big deal out of the little things that are often unnoticed or unrecognized or appreciated that make up the milieu of communities.

“The jasmine behind my house has been completely ruined by the rains and storms of the last few days, its white blossoms are floating about in muddy black pools on the low garage roof. But somewhere inside me the jasmine continues to blossom undisturbed, just as profusely and delicately as it ever did. You can see, I look after You, I bring You not only my tears and my forebodings on this stormy, grey Sunday morning, but I even bring you scented jasmine. And I shall bring You all the flowers I shall meet on my way, and truly there are many of those. I shall try to make you at home always. Even if I should be locked up in a narrow cell and a cloud should drift past my small barred window, then I shall bring you that cloud, oh God, where there is still the strength in me to do so. I cannot promise you anything for tomorrow but my intentions are good. You can see.” An Interrupted Life, p. 152.

6. Cultivate solitude: No extended breaks, but moments, fleeting and far between, still can become brief epiphanies with the One that grounds and guides our day.

“I shall try to help you, God, to stop my strength ebbing away, though I cannot vouch for it in advance… All that really matters is that we safeguard that little piece of You, God, in ourselves. And perhaps in others as well… We must defend your dwelling place inside us to the last. There are, it is true, some who, even at this late stage, are putting their vacuum cleaners and silver forks and spoons in safe keeping instead of guarding You, dear God. And there are those who want to put their bodies in safe keeping but who are nothing more now than shelter for a thousand fears and better feelings. And they say, ‘I shan’t let them get me into their clutches.’ But they forget that no one is in their clutches who is in Your arms. I am beginning to feel a little more peaceful, God, thanks to this conversation with You. I shall have many more conversations with you. You are sure to go through lean times with me now and then, when my faith weakens a little, but believe me, I shall always labor for You and remain faithful to You and shall never drive You from my presence…” An Interrupted Life, p. 151-152.

7. Cultivate a heart: What do I want to be for others in my life?

“At night, as I lay in the camp on my plank bed, surrounded by women and girls gently snoring, dreaming aloud, quietly sobbing and tossing and turning, women and girls who often told me during the day, ‘We don’t want to think, we don’t want to feel, otherwise we are sure to go out of our minds,’ I was sometimes filled with an infinite tenderness, and lay awake for hours letting all the many, too many impressions of a much too long day wash over me, and I prayed, ‘Let me be the thinking heart of these barracks.’ And that is what I want to be again. The thinking heart of a whole concentration camp. I lie here so patiently and now so calmly again, that I feel quite a bit better already. I feel my strength returning to me; I have stopped making plans and worrying about risks. Happen what may, it is bound to be for the good.” An Interrupted Life, p. 253-236.

8. Cultivate a sense of belonging: What is my bond and investment in Life, in those entrusted to me? Where do I want to be and where am I capable of being?

“One day, I would love to travel through all the world, oh God; I feel drawn right across all frontiers and feel a bond with all Your warring creatures. And I would like to proclaim that bond in a small, still voice but also compellingly and without pause. But first I must be present on every battle-front and at the center of all human sufferings.” An Interrupted Life, p. 225.

9. Cultivate a sense of letting go: What do we do with the negative baggage that gets collected and psychically carried by me every day that keeps me from epiphanies? How is strength preserved?

“I believe that I know and share the many sorrows and sad circumstances that a human being can experience, but I do not cling to them, I do not prolong such moments of agony. They pass through me, like life itself, as a broad, eternal stream, they become part of that great stream, and life continues. And as a result all my strength is preserved, does not become tagged on a futile sorrow or rebelliousness.” An Interrupted Life, p. 225.

10. Finally, cultivate a sense of ultimate purpose to all that you are doing: How much do I believe that in every working moment, mundane and mediocre as it might be, it is part of “co-creation?”

“I have been terribly tired for several days, but that, too, will pass; things come and go in a deeper rhythm and people must be taught to listen to it, it is the most important thing we learn in this life. I am not challenging You, oh God, my life is one great dialogue with You. I may never become the great artist I would really like to be, but I am already turning out small profundities and uncertain short stories, but I am always end up with just one single word: God. And that says everything and there is no need for anything more. And all my creative powers are translated into inner dialogues with You; the beat of my heart has grown deeper, more active and yet more peaceful, and it is as if I were all the time storing up inner riches…” An Interrupted Life, p. 255.

“There are many miracles in human life, my own is one long sequence of inner miracles, and it’s good to be able to say so again to somebody.” An Interrupted Life, p. 256.