Walking Home, Introduction/Psalms of Ascent
The Psalms of Ascent are songs/prayers which the people of God engaged as they journeyed to Jerusalem to celebrate feasts and holy days. Jerusalem (Mt Zion) was the literal place of worship for the people of God, and it also metaphorically represents God’s presence. So, these prayers were written to shape one’s preparation to ascend to the holy hill of Jerusalem and the temple.
A significant feature of these psalms is a focus on the house of God and Jerusalem/Mt. Zion. For these Old Testament believers, the house of the LORD was the place they wanted to be. While they would have understood God to be everywhere (“the earth is his footstool” Isaiah 66:1), there was a special sense of God’s presence (we might say an “indwelling presence”) in His house, the temple in Jerusalem. In Acts 17:24, the Apostle Paul shares that God “does not live in temples made by man” because He “made the world and everything in it, being the Lord of heaven and earth.” And, in the New Testament scriptures, we also learn that the temple of God (that special place of His indwelling presence) becomes the “believer” and the church. (1 Corinthians 3:16, “you are God’s temple”; 2 Corinthians 6:16, “we are the temple of the living God”) This is a mystical indwelling that is primarily spiritually discerned and experienced.
This is where we find ourselves today: indwelled by God. We are the temple of the living God. In the days before Christ, the indwelling presence of God was in the temple/the house of the Lord. However, we are compelled to embark on a journey of experiencing this reality just as the Old Testament believer embarked on that physical journey. The prayers and desires and perspectives shared in the Psalms of Ascent can become prayers that shape the way we approach the journey toward experiencing God’s presence ever and ever deeper. Indeed, the journey is one of love and intimacy with God fueled by desire and understaning our identity.
The journey experienced in these psalms moves from disorientation (Psalm 120, “Woe to me that I sojourn in Meshech, that I dwell in the tents of Kedar”) to reorientation (Psalm 125, “those who trust in the Lord are like Mount Zion, which cannot be moved, but abides forever”) to orientation (Psalm 134, “Come, bless the Lord, all you servants of the Lord, who stand by night in the house of the Lord”).
Disorientation is a place on the journey where we don’t feel at home. Things don’t seem to fit right. We may experience a low-level sense of loneliness, boredom, restlessness, anger, or anxiety. Afflictive emotions are especially prominent here. Our temptation is to get away or ignore or find a sense of home through our own efforts. Reorientation is a season where we have begun to understand the true desire and destination of our hearts. It is God who is our home and we are walking forward in such a way that our faces are pointed toward dwelling in His presence. Finally, orientation has a quality of peace and contentment to it. Distractions and resistances are minimal as responsiveness to the presence of God is the primary experience. Being “oriented” is experienced now and has its ultimate fulfillment in the eternal realm.
As these movements are observed in the Psalms of Ascent, the one who prays is invited to be with God wherever they are, and also to envision where the journey is going. Our lives are a journey through these movements of the Spirit. The journey into deepening intimacy progresses through one layer after another. After a season of orientation, we may begin to notice a desire for experiencing more of God’s presence and we may see the ways that we are not where we desire to be … feeling disoriented. And so the process begins again.
As we begin a journey through the Psalms of Ascent, you may spend a few moments in prayer – discerning where you are in this movement through disorientation, reorientation, and orientation. As you discern, be in that place with God … asking Him how He is with you and what He is inviting right now. One temptation can be to try to get out and move on but there are gifts in each season. There can also be a temptation to hold on to orientation when disorientation is emerging once again. Be where you are … with God … trusting that He is present and He is at work in you, shaping you and forming you in the image of Christ.
Walking Home, introduction
Have you ever noticed how many great movies take place in prison? Have you noticed how many movies are about coming home in some way? Why do these stories keep being told over and over again? And … why do they resonate so much that we keep watching and listening?
The prison yard and home are two archetypal images that express the core of the human condition as we know it.
We long deeply to be home … that place where we are loved as we experience being safe, seen, and cherished. We may have experienced that as children or maybe not. However, we long to be home. We were created with this desire. In his book, Healing What’s Within, Chuck DeGroat describes this desire as a homing beacon. Indeed, there is something pinging within each of us that is pointing us in a direction. The pinging of this homing beacon is desire. We all know the experience of longing and desire, but we are often unaware of where that desire is pointing us or we’ve been given solutions to dealing with the desire that fall short of or perhaps go past the intended destination.
This is where the prison imagery expresses our experience. We often find ourselves looking and searching for home but end up imprisoned in our own messes … disoriented, distraught, and perhaps disillusioned. When the solutions to desire are off the mark, they frequently imprison us in cycles of addiction. The addiction could be to substances and perhaps even more likely to things like people pleasing, working too much, eating too much, shopping too much, or simply getting lost in the thought spirals of never having or being enough.
We are all seeking to get home … where we are content and cared for, where we know who we are and whose we are, and where we are loved and feel affection.
Thomas Keating described it this way: “What is home? It’s to live in God’s house all the days of our lives. And that house is this participation in the divine life … a communion, or a unity, that is incomparable, that is oneness, that’s inseparable. If we really trust God, we don’t have a care in the world.”
As we look back to the creation of humanity, the design was that we live at home with God. (Genesis 1-2) We are God’s children … made in the love of the Trinity … “let us make humanity in our own image.” (Gen 1:26-27) And … what is that image? It is the capacity to love and be loved.
In the Scriptures, we are invited to make this journey home, but the way is not always evident and we frequently do not have the discernment to know which way to turn. In the prayer book of the Bible (Psalms), we find 15 prayers called the Psalms of Ascent (120-134). They were traditionally sung/prayed as the people of God made their way to the temple in Jerusalem (thought of as an ascent). Pilgrimages might have meant walking for a few days or up to several weeks. These particular prayers gave discernment, stirred desire, and invited dwelling in the love of God.
As we reflect on these psalms and pray them, we are shaped for the journey home. Certainly, we are experiencing life in the presence of God now and growing deeper in this experience is metaphorically, a journey … a pilgrimage. In this sense, if you are seeking to follow Christ and live in the love of God, you are a pilgrim.
The Scriptures describe this as a pilgrimage to the heart of God. Perhaps nowhere is this desire better expressed than in Psalm 84:1-6:
“How lovely is your dwelling place, LORD Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the LORD; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God. Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may have her young— a place near your altar, LORD Almighty, my King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you. Blessed are those whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage.”
The Psalms of Ascent invite us to have a heart set on pilgrimage. A heart set on knowing and experiencing the heart of God. Our destination is to dwell with God, deepen in our desire for Him, and develop discernment as we journey.
Several questions shape this kind of pilgrimage:
Where am I? (the discipline of discernment)
What do I want? (the discipline of desire)
How am I experiencing God’s love? (the discipline of dwelling)
In the words of my good friend and brilliant theologian, John DelHousaye, we are invited to follow Jesus in awareness and response. As we become aware of where we are, what we want, and how God is loving us, we respond in trust with practices of discernment, desire, and dwelling.
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Starting March 5 through Easter, I will be posting a daily devotional that walks through the Psalm of Ascent. This collection of reflections, Walking Home, will be supported by several Zoom calls during these weeks for those who are interested in further reflection, spiritual practices, and discussion. Learn more and sign up here.
The Last Laugh (poem by Thomas Keating)
Below is a poem written by Father Thomas Keating who was a significant voice in the Centering/Contemplative Prayer movement until his death in 2018. In the last years of life, he wrote several poems that expressed what he was experiencing with God. Articulation was beyond the ability of prose so he wrote poems … in Ephesians 3, the Apostle Paul prays that we would experience the love of God that is beyond words … I’m guessing that is why poetry was the only option for Father Keating.
I watch the seductive dance of everyday life
But the desire to join has ceased.
Two crucial questions arise:
Where are you?
Who are you?
Nowhere is my destination
And no one is my identity
My daily bread is powerlessness
Temptations can be overwhelming
God is every hope of help
And if this opens up within me
I am falling, falling
Plunging into nonexistence
Is this annihilation?
Or is it the path to the silent love that we are?
As the false self disappears
The true self is born
Thus the dance of human nature with That Which Is
Takes on a wholly new perspective
And those who partake in it
Are overwhelmed with laughter
Too deep to be heard.
Rejoicing in a Time Like This
Can we really rejoice in a time like this? What kind of time is “this”? We all find ourselves in places, situations, and relationships that seem to invite anything but rejoicing. For so many of us, these holy days (holidays) feel like anything but holy. And yet, the signs and messages all around us tell us that we should rejoice. It’s Christmas. It’s the holiday season. While there may be circumstances that we want to rejoice in, there are equally, if not more difficult things, in our awareness. We know that we can’t just turn them off and act like they aren’t there. But … what do we do? Is there a way to be present to the hard things as well as to the more joyful things in a way that transcends both? This is actually the nature of the human condition: difficulties and pleasures all mixed up in a soup that sometimes we’d rather not partake.
In Scripture, we’re invited to rejoice always. (Philippians 4:4) That may seem too tall of a task unless we understand a bit more about the nature of the rejoicing that is invited.
In the invitation to rejoice, there are two caveats that can shape our understanding of rejoicing that grounds it in reality rather than thinking it is an invitation to stick our heads in the sand and say all is well when all isn’t well. First, alongside rejoice are the words: “Let your patience be known to all.” Rejoicing comes from a place of patience, believing that God is at work and that the present circumstances are never the final story. In patience, we actively trust that no matter the situation, there is more coming in the future. This leads us to a hopeful rejoicing. Second, the ground of our rejoicing is found later in the verse 5: “the Lord is near.” He is with us. He is near. He is companioning us and walking with us in all things. So, whether they are hard, things or more joyful, we can rejoice because He is with us.
Out of this rejoicing in the nearness of God, we are invited to pray and give thanks. Joy is found in His presence … the “withness” of God. Prayer is a natural response to finding our joy in Him. We cry out to Him for strength and wisdom and love and assurance. And this comes with thanksgiving … gratitude because He is with us in all things. This invitation to rejoice, pray, and give thanks is also found in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18: “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” God’s will is another way of saying … God’s heart or His desire. He desires so deeply for us to see Him as near and to find joy that He is not far away but right here, in this present moment, inviting us to reach out to Him.
Perhaps, this is why Paul could write later in Philippians 4:11-13 that he could do all things, “I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty andhunger, abundance and need.I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”
Our joy is in the nearness of God, out of which we dependently seek God, and give thanks in all things because we know He is at work. This is the real joy of Christmas … God with us in all things. And it is the joy of everyday living – whether mundane or spectacular.
A Prayerful Meditation: sit quietly and close your eyes, sensing that God is right there with you. Find joy in this reality. Sit with this for a few moments/minutes and then ask for help in some way. Finally, give thanks because, even in this, God is with you and at work. Be specific about your gratefulness. Repeat throughout the day and especially as you find yourself in a “non-rejoicing” kind of place.
The Greatest Gift: a reflection on the meaning of Pentecost
Every year, followers of Jesus celebrate Pentecost. Pentecost was the day described in Acts 2 when the Holy Spirit descended on the first followers of Jesus 50 days after the resurrection. The word Pentecost comes from the Greek word, pentekoste, which means “fiftieth.”
Ten days before this event, Jesus ascended to heaven after spending 40 “post-resurrection” days with His disciples. (Acts 1:1-3) As His bodily presence on earth came to an end, Pentecost is fulfillment of the words of Jesus when He promised: “these things I have spoken to you while I am still with you. But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you.” (John 14:25-26) This also connects with the discussion of the New Covenant in Jeremiah 31:33-34:
“’For this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the Lord; ‘I will put my law within them, and I write it on their hearts. And I will be their God and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, “Know the Lord,” for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest,’ declares the Lord, ‘For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more.’”
This is an incredible reality, that through the New Covenant (the shedding of Jesus’ blood) we will no longer need to teach each other. Why? Because each person has access to the Spirit of God who leads, guides, and shapes. Of course, the question arises: then why do we have teachers? Primarily, it is for discernment: discerning the Spirit’s voice and leading as well as the discernment provided in the Scriptures.
When it comes to our daily lives and living in the presence and love of God, there is nothing more important than Pentecost. Of course, it could be argued that the cross and resurrection are more important. However, our ability and capacity to live out and embody the cross and resurrection is empowered and shaped by the Holy Spirit.
In Matthew 7:7-11, Jesus says: “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!”
What does this have to do with Pentecost? First, what are the “good things” that God gives. In one sense, it is an invitation to trust God’s provision in any situation to give us what is needed. Second, in Luke’s description of the same sermon, the good things are defined as the “Holy Spirit”: “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (Luke 11:13)
What is good? What is the best provision in any situation? What is the truest, deepest desire of our heart? The presence and love of God experienced through the Holy Spirit. In Romans 5:5, we read: “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”
The presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives is not something we have to earn or maintain. Romans 8:9 simply states that “the Spirit of God dwells in you.” The New Testament writings are filled with reference after reference to being in the Spirit, having the Spirit, etc. In attachment to Christ, we experience the presence of the God the Spirit. There is also encouragement to “walk by the Spirit” (Galatians 5:16) and to “be filled with the Spirit.” (Ephesians 5:18) These encouragements describe our need to pay attention to the shaping and leading of the Spirit in our lives … to cooperate and participate in the life of God through the Spirit. To “walk” is to live our lives according to the Spirit’s leading. To “be filled” is to be controlled by Spirit. And of course, this is not something demanded by God the Father but His provision of what could be called the greatest gift (God with us) … which is the deepest, truest desire of our hearts.
Reflection: how are you living with the Holy Spirit? How are you paying attention to the love, leading, and guidance of God through the Spirit? Stop for a few moments of prayerful reflection and become present to what the Spirit is inviting.
Prayer: Holy Spirit, thank you for your constant, gracious presence within me. Help me to pay attention to how you are speaking to me and providing for me moment to moment. Amen.
Practice: simply set aside 5-20 minutes to be quiet (quiet in body, mind, and soul); as you practice quietness/stillness, you will know (experience) God’s presence with you through the Holy Spirit (cf., Psalm 46:10)
Have Yourself a Gritty Little Christmas
In the world of sports, the word “gritty” is often used. For example, a team that fights and claws and scratches for the whole game might be said to have given a “gritty performance.” The word gritty isn’t usually used for things like the ballet or an orchestra. These are scripted and relatively predictable performances whereas a sports performance is unpredictable and athletes face things they can’t control. As we think about Christmas and the birth of Jesus, it may be tempting to think of it like a ballet or a gentle orchestral performance of a sacred piece of music. However, the entrance of Jesus the Christ was more like a football game played in inclement weather where the circumstances were not preferable or expected. God entered this world in a war-torn land where the locals were under occupation and children were being murdered. His mother gave birth to Him away from home in a cave where animals would have been kept because the occupying government was trying to keep tabs on the people. It was far less than ideal, but an undeterred Jesus entered this world. It was gritty. It was dirty. It was messy.
And this reminds us that Jesus enters into and is present with us in the messiness of life. He does not stand on the sideline asking us to come over to Him but He is in the game with us … in the trenches with us.
Feeling a bit (or, a lot) lonely this Christmas? He is with you. Praying for peace in the world (or, at least, your world)? He is with you. Wishing that you could see your kids or your parents this Christmas? He is with you. Dealing with the loss or imminent loss of someone you love? He is with you. Hoping you’ll be able to scratch together a little bit of money to buy a gift for someone you love? He is with you. He is not on the other side of these harsh, gritty realities of life, but with you in them.
So, have yourself a gritty little Christmas, will you? You don’t have to invite Jesus (God in the flesh) to be with you. He’s already present in the messiness. Simply turn your gaze and see … and know the peace that is beyond understanding.
Advent … Stop and Notice
Advent … an invitation to stop and notice. The world around us buzzes and whirls, distracting us from what is. Advent stops us, if we let it, and centers us around what is. Advent is a season of desire and longing. What is most true (truer than all else – deeper than the deepest depth) is that we desire God. In the speed and noise of life, we settle upon lesser desires (some perhaps sinful and some just less than, but all incapable of holding the depth, length, height, and width … the vastness that is the love of God unfolded in the human heart).
So, stop. Please stop. For the sake of God and His love for you, stop. Stop and notice, and sit with desire and longing. Then, as you go about the business of life, you will find calm and peace in the knowing that God alone is your desire and that just as Jesus was secure in the midst of the vulnerability of a first century Palestinian manger, you are securely held in His love.
Desire fulfilled is no longer desire. Advent reminds us of the “already, not yet” nature of desire. Christ became human flesh 2000 years ago (desire fulfilled) and we also wait for His coming each and every day (desire waiting to be filled). “When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” (Colossians 3:4) As we sit with the “not yet,” our lives are oriented once again around the truth that we are dependent creatures … depending upon His appearing not just in the future, but today and tomorrow. How will He appear today? How will you notice His presence today? How will you see Him as the one you’ve ben hoping for? Stop and notice.
This is the invitation of Advent.
God is Not an Object
God is not an object to behold but the ground of our beholding … the arena of being present in and to all things. Our perception of God may begin with God as object but our experience of God slowly morphs into an Union of loving presence.
The danger of making God in our own image is real. It happens when we are young because we can do no other but as we mature, we grow in our capacity to encounter God as He is, not as we imagine Him to be. In His grace, we still encounter Him, even when we misunderstand, which happens always to some degree.
As I increasingly live in the awareness of union with God, which is already present in all its fullness, I am freed to discontinue clinging to anything, even my own life. I am free to be fully present to God, others, and myself. As I notice clinging, or some other afflictive emotion, it can receive it as the gift of being reminded that I have stepped outside of abiding in trust.
Truly, there is nothing that can separate us from the love (presence) of God. However, I can live like an orphan, still searching for a home when all that is necessary is to turn and sit at the feet of the one who calls me beloved.
As Meister Eckhart expressed, “God is at home. It is we who have gone out for a walk.” The poet Rumi expressed this in communal terms, “we’re all just walking each other home.” There exists a both/and nature to being present to God, and even these wonderfully stated observations cannot hold the reality that we often experience distance from God, and yet he is never distanced from us. God is more present and integrated into the fabric of our existence than we could ever imagine, and our lives are a journey of coming into a loving knowing of this reality. God, always present and closely abiding with us, longs for us to turn so that we can experience Him experiencing us.
“What we usually call the real life is not real at all. It is as flaky as they come. Laugh at it; weep over it; pray for it; take every opportunity to expose it; seek to redeem it. But never make the mistake of thinking it is real.” N. Gordon Crosby
A Simple Advent Prayer
Adventus (Latin) advent, coming
The invitation of advent is to watch and wait. These two complementary practices can shape something so deep it is hard to describe. These two invitations are centered around one singular concept: longing. Noticing and experiencing our longing for God is the most important part of the spiritual journey. We notice that we long deeply for so many things and then we begin to notice that underneath all longing is God Himself. It is not an experience of God and not doing something for God, but God Himself … who also longs for us.
Advent is a season is to watch (notice) that all our longings are really longings for God. G. K. Chesterton said that “every man who knocks on the door of a brothel is knocking for God.” This happens as we wait. And, then as we wait. We wait for God. Not that God is somewhere else but we are often somewhere else and when we slow down and let our longings sit unfulfilled, we prepare our hearts for a deepening awareness of God.
We sit with questions. We sit with grief. We sit with whatever is not yet.
And, then, in that awareness of God that emerges, we begin to taste hope. This is the gift of Advent.
Watch and wait.
Lord, give me the strength to watch and wait. In my watching, give me eyes to see You. Give me wisdom and discernment. In my waiting, give me patience and also the freedom to be unfinished and incomplete until I see. Lord, I believe You are my deepest longing. I want to know it as well. Only in Your grace and by Your mercy. Amen.
Hope for the Holidays?
As we enter Thanksgiving week and another holiday season, are you feeling some sadness? Perhaps, the sadness smacks you right in the face or maybe you find it lurking around the edges of your awareness. For me, having lost my mom to cancer sixteen years ago and my father to covid two years ago, just one week before Christmas, this time of year can feel quite lonely. Many of the memories that have shaped my life are now empty reminders. Certainly, I hold deep hope that I will see mom and dad again at the resurrection, and yet it is a hope that is laced with the lingering desire that I could pick up the phone and call on Thanksgiving Day or Christmas Eve, or really any day. Perhaps, the desire is more of a “muscle memory” that has no place to go. Nevertheless, the feelings of being a little lost in this world take shape in the absence.
Maybe you can relate on some level? When a time of the year called “the most wonderful time of the year” doesn’t feel so wonderful, what do you do? How does one navigate?
It can be easy to think: lots of people have lost their parents or experience grief so move on past these feelings. Or, they’re in heaven so find joy in that. However, I am trying to pay attention to what I feel and not push it aside with theological platitudes or even logic. I do have so much to be thankful for and it is not hard for me to go there but I am realizing that holding those unpleasant emotional responses actually leads to deeper joy rather than hindering it.
We are wise to consider that embracing gratitude at this time of year can actually be used as a defense mechanism, a way to stuff down or deny the pain. Thankfulness, or gratitude, is an important, transformative spiritual practice but perhaps not so transformative when it isn’t accompanied by the spiritual practice of lament. Lament is the prayer that cries out to God and says, everything is not alright. Things are not as they should. I feel abandoned, I feel loss. Will I ever feel different? For me, I don’t want to ignore the reality that my soul, the very core of who I am, feels loss. I feel it throughout the year, and the “holiday” season intensifies it.
So, I practice lament. I enter into prayers in which I express the longing of my heart for what has been lost. I find that God holds those prayers with me and laments with me. As I become more and more aware of His gentle presence, I also find gratitude emerge. This gratitude doesn’t appear quickly or predictably, but slowly and unexpectedly. Gratitude and thanksgiving are present, but they appear as we watch and wait in hope. The joy that walks alongside gratitude is deepened when it comes out of lament because this joy is stripped of shallow, circumstantial gratitude.
I find gratitude for the gift of what was lost but still is with me in so many ways. Gratitude for the gifts right in front of me. Gratitude for a God who meets me right where I am. He doesn’t seem interested in pushing me out of my lament but is content to sit with me in it for as long as that is where my soul needs to be … for as long as it takes for me to also be aware of the gifts. There is no hurry but there is hope.
So, sit prayerfully with grief and loss (also known as lament) and watch and wait for gratitude to emerge. It will. It’s there. We discover gratitude once again as we let God hold our grief with us.
desert direction 