SUNLIT MEADOW — free as the sky

“Contemplation is not ultimately perfect unless it is shared.” Thomas Merton

If there is one book that has set me ablaze with contemplation, it is easily New Seeds of Contemplation by Merton. The word ablaze is overdramatic, I know, but it has decisively set me on a contemplative journey. In 2013, I turned to Merton for help while in leadership, out of sheer desperation, trying to make sense out of life, Christianity, and the world. I can still see faint dried teardrops on some pages of the book. When selecting and packing books for Korea, I did not hesitate to pick up the book and put it in my luggage, where space and weight were at a premium.

I have been going through the book again slowly. I can see my yesteryear’s notes and the dates in the margins. In most cases, it is not hard to recall the specific context I was in and why I was drawn to Merton’s words at certain times. For the first time, I thought someone actually understood enough about the intricacy of the landscape of the human soul, my soul, to put into words. My evangelical faith was mostly in my head. As a head person, I thrived, and at the same time, my soul’s language was malnourished. Merton spoke to me at a soul level.

Contemplation, simply and profoundly, is being with God in the “temple” of God (“con”–with/together plus “templum”–temple/sacred space), which means being "completely within that marked-out space." This attention leads to a focus on what is seen because that is where God is, especially since God’s “temple” is not merely confined to cathedrals, churches, or synagogues but everywhere. “Taking a long, loving look at the Real” is a long-standing tradition for capturing the word. Being present to the present adds another layer to describing it. For someone more fixated on the future, the present remains elusive. Contemplation is a way of seeing, living, and existing in the world with and for God.

As a recent graduate of the CenterQuest School of Spiritual Direction, where we hold and honor the contemplative and evocative tradition, Merton’s statement above comes to me as a calling. The recent global resurgence in attendance in the Catholic Church is a testament to people, especially the young, who are hungry for Christian meditation and contemplation, among other factors. Sometime ago, my wife and I stayed at a Franciscan retreat center in Singapore for a few days. I was told by one of the Franciscan brothers that more than half of the retreatants are Protestants.

The worthy goal of contemplation is union with God, experienced obscurely and imperfectly here on this earth but with a heavenly foretaste here and there. The greatest irony is that we grow in our union with God through the darkness of faith. In the darkness, God seems so absent and far that we become absolutely helpless. In our helplessness, our souls trust in God when God seems absent.

As John the disciple put it, as we become one with God, we experience oneness with others. Thus, the call to share. . . In our process of being united with God, we discover our true selves, which allows us to love in ways that are unique to who we are.

My true personality will be fulfilled in the Mystical Christ in this one way above all, that through me, Christ and His Spirit will be able to love you and all men and God the Father in a way that would be possible in no one else.

When I met with my spiritual director a few days ago, still glowing from the closing residency, I told him I intuitively believe this next season will set the trajectory for the rest of my life. The long season of discernment and the move to Korea/Asia have come to an end. Now a new adventure begins, with vast open, blank spaces like a sunlit meadow of rolling hills before me.

I know the calling to share contemplation occupies a significant portion of my heart’s desire. Since it is a way of being, existing, and engaging with the world, it cannot be taught merely intellectually. Sharing means embodying and living out contemplation in my own life.