T.S. Wednesday: Making a Scene

"I said to my soul, be still, and let the dark come upon you

Which shall be the darkness of God. As, in a theatre,

The lights are extinguished, for the scene to be changed

With a hollow rumble of wings, with a movement of darkness on darkness,

And we know that the hills and the trees, the distant panorama

And the bold imposing facade are all being rolled away—"

It's not Tuesday, but my heart needs T.S. Eliot this morning. I need to be reminded that I'm not the first to question the darkness of God. To watch in alarm as the stage of my life dims, fearful of the dark, of the unknown. To lose hope in the changing of scenes. To mistake the dimming lights and the quiet rustle in the dark for the end. Not the beginning.

I say to soul, be still. And it says to me, "Yeah, right." I crouch, poised for action. If only I knew which step to take. What the next scene holds. But right now all I can sense is the movement of darkness on darkness. The creation of a scene not yet revealed to me.

And I say to my soul, be still. And wait for God to make a scene.

T.S. Tuesday: The "Examen"ed Life

“Only by acceptance of the past, can you alter it.” T.S. Eliot

To alter the past, you must accept it. To accept the past, you must acknowledge it. The good parts and the bad parts. The big, blaring mistakes, and the small shifts in thought and attitude that moved you away from love and connection and God's will throughout the day.

A couple of years ago, I took a spiritual disciplines class at my church that transformed my view of self-examination from a fixation on of all my failings to a deeply meaningful and redemptive conversation with the One who knows me best. It was at this class that I learned about the prayer of examen—a practice started by St. Ignatius, founder of the Jesuits, which is still transformative today.

Through the prayer of examen, I learn to pay attention to my day. I become more aware of where God is already moving and where God is leading. What he is leading me toward. Areas that he is pressing in and challenging my selfishness.

Someone once asked me, “How can you give God your heart, soul, mind, and strength if you don't know your heart, mind, soul, and strength?”

This is an invitation for God (the one who knows and loves me best) to help me know me.

Here are the basics of the Prayer of Examen taken from IgnatianSpirituality.com. This website has a lot of helpful resources on prayer, self-reflection, and learning to pay attention to the powerful presence of God throughout your day. I also recommend the book, Sacred Rhythms, by Ruth Haley Barton, if you want to dive deeper into the spiritual disciplines.

I hope you learn something about yourself and how God is moving today.

How Can I Pray?

1. Become aware of God’s presence. Look back on the events of the day in the company of the Holy Spirit. The day may seem confusing to you—a blur, a jumble, a muddle. Ask God to bring clarity and understanding.

2. Review the day with gratitude. Gratitude is the foundation of our relationship with God. Walk through your day in the presence of God and note its joys and delights. Focus on the day’s gifts. Look at the work you did, the people you interacted with. What did you receive from these people? What did you give them? Pay attention to small things—the food you ate, the sights you saw, and other seemingly small pleasures. God is in the details.

3. Pay attention to your emotions. One of St. Ignatius’s great insights was that we detect the presence of the Spirit of God in the movements of our emotions. Reflect on the feelings you experienced during the day. Boredom? Elation? Resentment? Compassion? Anger? Confidence? What is God saying through these feelings?

God will most likely show you some ways that you fell short. Make note of these sins and faults. But look deeply for other implications. Does a feeling of frustration perhaps mean that God wants you consider a new direction in some area of your work? Are you concerned about a friend? Perhaps you should reach out to her in some way.

4. Choose one feature of the day and pray from it. Ask the Holy Spirit to direct you to something during the day that God thinks is particularly important. It may involve a feeling—positive or negative. It may be a significant encounter with another person or a vivid moment of pleasure or peace. Or it may be something that seems rather insignificant. Look at it. Pray about it. Allow the prayer to arise spontaneously from your heart—whether intercession, praise, repentance, or gratitude.

5. Look toward tomorrow. Ask God to give you light for tomorrow’s challenges. Pay attention to the feelings that surface as you survey what’s coming up. Are you doubtful? Cheerful? Apprehensive? Full of delighted anticipation? Allow these feelings to turn into prayer. Seek God’s guidance. Ask him for help and understanding. Pray for hope.

St. Ignatius encouraged people to talk to Jesus like a friend. End the Daily Examen with a conversation with Jesus. Ask forgiveness for your sins. Ask for his protection and help. Ask for his wisdom about the questions you have and the problems you face. Do all this in the spirit of gratitude. Your life is a gift, and it is adorned with gifts from God. End the Daily Examen with the Our Father.

T.S. Tuesday: Moving and Shaking

So I'm definitely a little obsessed with T.S. Eliot's 'Four Quartets', and I will continue to mine these poems for T.S. Tuesday content.

Today's excerpt comes from East Coker, No. 2 of 'Four Quartets.'

"In my beginning is my end. In succession

Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,

Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place

Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.

Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires,

Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth"

The poem begins with "In the beginning is my end" and ends with "In my end is my beginning."

What happens in between? In between the beginning and the ending and the beginning again?

Here, Eliot speaks of the building and destroying and restoring of houses. Movement happens. Progress happens in this in-between, this meanwhile, this space between the now and the not yet.

Movements from building to destroying, from knowledge to ignorance, from life to death, which breeds more life.

Our lives are a series of progressions, of movements. We move from children to parents. From students to teachers. From singled to married. From coupled to heartbroken. From employed to laid off and back again to be promoted.

These movements are constant: sometimes they're life-giving; sometimes they stink of death. Sometimes the moving feels more like shaking, a quivering between growth and retreat.

My spiritual life has followed a series of movements: from unerring confidence to despondent doubts. From running from God's presence to basking in God's love. From tearing down dogma to stacking up truths.

Where are you moving? What's more, where is God moving? Are you moving toward life or are you ushering in death? How is God leading you to give life and grieve death in all of the movements of your life?