The Beginnings of

Christian Contemplative Prayer:

A Modern Protestant View of an

Ancient Catholic Tradition

Introduction

As the title suggests, this book is going to be quite different

from the hundreds of books on contemplative prayer or

centering prayer.

I have always been a Protestant and grew up in church. At

the age of 17, after truly becoming a Christian, I became part

of the evangelical movement. In that movement I was

taught, mostly by default, that everything “Catholic” was

bad. Yes, there were a few good centuries early on, but

Christian history really started with Martin Luther.

As you will read in Part One, I stumbled into contemplative

prayer without knowing anything about it. I never read a

book on “contemplative prayer” in order to figure it out – my

initial readings were quite simple. It was only in my PhD

studies at the University of St Andrews that I began to read

and study the great spiritual writers and academic works on

the topic. By this time I had been practicing (perhaps poorly)

this form of prayer for around ten years.

Much of what I read in popular books on this topic get

caught up with some of the esoteric and philosophical

categories. This kind of focus, in my opinion, makes

contemplative prayer less accessible for the typical lay

person who is simply seeking to draw closer to God. Some of

what I have read in preparation for this book has suggested

that the quest is to find ourselves or to find God from within.

My perspective is quite simple: Christian faith is all about

knowing the creator of the universe better as our lives

progress. Will I learn more about myself? Sure. But for me,

any kind of prayer is meant to better align myself with God’s

character and with His purpose.

My primary goal in this book is to encourage the average

Christian to practice this discipline of prayer. There is no

“correct” way to engage in contemplative prayer; like other

spiritual disciplines, you will learn as you go. In Part One I

share my story of how I discovered this form of prayer.

Experts will find aspects of my experience to criticize – not

least of which will likely be that I am sharing my “personal

experience.” Many people, especially those in academics, are

not comfortable with personal experience. Yet my almost

twenty-five years serving as a pastor leads me to understand

that other Christians benefit from hearing real-life stories:

the good, the bad and the ugly. So I begin with personal

stories to share how I discovered this form of prayer, how I

understand it, some practical tips along the way, and some

encouragement to help make it easier to approach.

Because I learned contemplative prayer without a clear

guide, my way of understanding it is different. This book is

my attempt to give the reader a different angle on the

matter. Several of the works I read in preparation for this

book would not have helped me. In fact, I read two authors

warning readers of the dangers in contemplative prayer.

Both of these Protestant writers seem more on the

fundamentalist side and both do make sense to me (even

though I disagree with them). Some of the Catholic writers,

in my opinion, get too focused in the esoteric categories.

This can be especially confusing for the beginner. I think I

am probably writing more for the skeptical Protestant, but

also for the Catholic who is feeling somewhat “lost” in the

whole arena of “centering prayer.”

No doubt some writers will claim that what I am describing is

not truly contemplative prayer. Oh well. What I can say in

this introduction is that my academic research isolated the

first literary evidence of contemplative prayer in Clement of

Alexandria. My readings of the great spiritual writers, and my

academic work, were both fueled by my personal practice of

this discipline. While in Scotland I “scrambled” in the

Lomond Hills right off A91 numerous times to experience

solitude (along with the “silence” of 30-50 mph winds) to

hunker down and still my heart and mind in prayer. To the

searching soul I say this: pursue God. HE will find YOU!

Part Two includes simplified excerpts from my PhD

dissertation laying out the basic facts of how contemplative

prayer was first introduced in the Church through Clement of

Alexandria, circa 195-198 AD. This will be a non-academic

presentation. My dissertation is easily found online for

anyone interested in getting into the nuts and bolts of the

matter.

Part Three gives a basic history of how contemplative prayer

developed in the Christian Church through the Desert

Fathers, the monastic movement, and a bit later in Gregory

of Nyssa and others. Again, I purpose to make this a

simplified presentation. Though I have read around twenty

of the great spirituality writers, and written academic papers

on a few, I am not an expert in this field. My readings have

not been completely focused on contemplative prayer, but

any church historian would agree that these are writings of

men and women who practiced this form of prayer and this

greatly informs their writings. This is a partial listing of the

primary sources I have read and studied specific to

contemplative prayer.

Clement of Alexandria – (all his works) mainly Stromateis

Philo – The Contemplative Life

Origen – Commentary on Song of Songs, On Prayer

Athanasius – Life of Antony

Sayings of the Desert Fathers, two different versions

Gregory of Nyssa – Life of Moses, Life of Saint Macrina,

The Lord’s Prayer, Homilies on Ecclesiastes

John Cassian – Conferences

Benedict – The Rule of St Benedict

Denys – Mystical Theology

Thomas a’ Kempis – The Imitation of Christ

Teresa of Avila – The Interior Castle

John of the Cross – Dark Night of the Soul

Brother Lawrence – The Practice of the Presence of God

Finally, I want to address what I will not do in this book.

I have no intention of trying to explain or apologize for

misconceptions about contemplative prayer.

I am not going to address the various forays of others into a

more Eastern or non-Christian spirituality. I am

unapologetically Christian. My experiences with

contemplative prayer have been grounded in the biblical text

and in the historic Christian faith. While there are

philosophical (and perhaps spiritual) concepts that can lead

towards an ecumenical position – that is not how I approach

this discipline of prayer. I will allow others to expound on

these categories.

I practice contemplative prayer for the same reason I engage

in all of my spiritual disciplines - to draw closer to God.

I would encourage the reader to approach contemplative

prayer for the same reason. The great spiritual writers of the

faith did not approach contemplative prayer to figure out the

philosophical mysteries of the universe. They were in pursuit

of a God who wants to be close to His children. Most were

indeed great thinkers and did also pursue the mysteries of

difficult philosophical questions. But this was, in my opinion,

a by-product of contemplative prayer and not their primary

pursuit.

I read a two page explanation in another author for why he

was not going to use inclusive language. I will say it in one

simple paragraph: the Christian faith inherited the view from

Judaism that God is the Father of the Universe and, as Jesus

clearly indicated, our Heavenly Father:

“Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name...”

Matthew 6:9 KJV

Indeed, as the reader will see, the concept of father is an

integral part of my journey. There are numerous modern

studies that underscore the importance of fathers in the lives

of their children. The earthly father (or the lack of a good

one) is an important influence in the spiritual life of every

person.

My intention is certainly not to offend, but I am a Christian

historian. I will present from this perspective. When I offer

dates for the ancient Christian writers I will use the

traditional “AD” designation rather than “CE.” In this I am

following the pattern offered by excellent contemporary

Christian scholars in my field.

Lastly, in my reading of other contemporary authors on this

subject I see innumerable quotes from both modern writers

and from the ancient Christian writers. This is not my style.

Obviously, I will cite the ancient writers in the chapters

where I am specifically dealing with their works. I also do

not feel compelled to cite the biblical text for every

statement I make – that can be tedious for the reader as

well.

Having given this introduction, I welcome any and all

correspondence. I make great effort to respond to ALL letters

and e-mail messages. I hope and pray this book will help you

draw near to the God who calls you.

Contents

1 The Struggle with Spiritual Disciplines

2 An Athlete’s View

3 Grace Awakening – Brother Lawrence

4 Solitude and Silence

5 The Ascetical Cop

6 DO or DONE?

7 Introduction to Contemplative Prayer

8 The Impact of a Father

9 The Practice of God’s Presence

10 The Concept of Spiritual Desert

11 Being Close to God

12 The Biblical Witness

1 The Struggle with Spiritual Disciplines

Watching a clock is a very slow way to pass time.

Much of my prayer life as a young, zealous man was spent

opening and cutting my eyes on the clock to see how much

“time” was left. Learning how to pray seemed painful not

just because of the agonizing ritual of watching the clock, but

also because I was always on my knees.

Sweet hour of prayer, sweet hour of prayer.

The joys I feel, the bliss I share…

Rarely did these lyrics express what I experienced in my

prayer time.

I would pray for my family:

“Bless my mom and dad…help them to know you better.”

“Please reveal Yourself to my brothers.”

It only took me five minutes to get through my family.

Another five minutes would take me through my friends at

school…and that included prayer for all my “lost” classmates.

I was a fairly new Christian and did not really know how to

engage in all the various kinds of prayer: praise and

adoration, intercession, etc.

I had heard that a good Christian would spend an hour alone

with God every day and I wanted to be a good, “spiritual”

Christian. REALLY mature Christians would spend an hour in

prayer.

My “quiet time” would start with reading three chapters of

the Bible, then I needed to pray. I would eventually move to

reading ten chapters of the Bible which would eat more time

off the clock.

I had to figure out ways to get an hour alone with God. For a

Type-A, task-oriented, young man of seventeen years this

was no easy task!

Eventually I would learn about journaling. That was a

welcomed part of my discipline and would easily help me to

use up another 15 minutes. A bit later in my Christian life I

learned to play guitar. That also helped. I could easily spend

another 15 minutes playing and singing a few worship songs.

Now I was beginning to feel “spiritual” – I could fill up an

hour with solid activity!

Sweet hour of prayer, sweet hour of prayer.

The joys I feel, the bliss I share…

There were always moments when something in the

scriptures would speak to me. And I had moments

journaling and singing when I would feel the presence of the

Holy Spirit.

Joy and bliss – some rewards from heaven that would

encourage me to come back the next day.

I was making progress.

2 An Athlete’s View

I was always gifted with athletic ability.

We had some professional athletes on my father’s side of

the family. I watched one uncle pitch for the Kansas City A’s.

He went on to become a golf professional. Another uncle

played professional basketball for the New York Celtics

before the NBA had been formed. I had the privilege of

meeting a 6’9” silver-haired man in his late 70’s who had

played for the Syracuse Nationals. When I asked this gentle

giant if he had known Brutus Baker, he threw his head back,

laughed and started telling me how sharp his elbows had

been!

I grew up being told of these great athletes which challenged

me to carry on the family tradition. Although I was always

one of the best athletes on any team I played for, the

advantage of my natural ability slowly diminished as I grew

older. I had to make up for this by working harder.

In high school it was not uncommon for me to stay after

practice to get in extra work: shoot a hundred free throws,

work on the two-minute drill with my wide receivers or any

other drills to improve my skills. I was the guy who refused

to pace myself running sprints and tried to give 100%

throughout practice. I embraced practice for the most part.

During the summer while my friends were swimming,

I would be alone in the gym, working out and doing

basketball drills.

It was easy for me to apply this same work ethic to my

spiritual life.

Years later in my spiritual journey I was introduced to some

of the positive aspects of the monastic movement. It

dawned on me that I would likely have joined a monastic

group had I lived in another age. It made sense to me when

I learned that the earliest monks were referred to as “the

athletes of God.”

I had been urged in various sermons to memorize scripture,

so I would use my daily commute to the junior college to

commit passages to memory. By the end of my freshman

year I had memorized the Sermon on the Mount, 2 Timothy,

the first three chapters of 1 John and 2-3 other single

chapters of the Bible.

These memorized scriptures were added to my disciplines.

I used them to try to practice meditation during my

devotional times.

I had added more tools into my spiritual tool box. This

helped me to more easily spend an hour alone with God. I

felt good about my spiritual disciplines and my walk with

God.

3 Grace Awakening – Brother Lawrence

Around two years into my Christian life an older man, a

mentor of sorts, asked me if I had ever read Brother

Lawrence. When I answered “No” he handed me a copy of

The Practice of the Presence of God and told me that I

needed to read it. As I read the Introduction I found myself

thinking, “Why does James want me to read this guy? This

guy is a Catholic monk!?” I struggled through the little book.

It just did not make sense to me.

A few years later I had a different man I respected ask me

the same question: “Have you ever read Brother Lawrence?”

I answered “yes,” and he asked what I had gained through

the book. I told him that I did not really understand the

book, nor did I like it. “You need to read it again.”

I pulled the little book off my shelf thinking, “God, I do not

understand why I need this book, but I will read it again.”

As I read Bro Lawrence the second time I found myself

thinking, “I kind of get it, but there’s something here I do not

understand.” After reading through it, I put the book back

on my shelf saying to the Lord, “Help me know what You are

trying to tell me through this guy.”

Two years later I was in training for university ministry and

one of my mentors asked me, “Have you ever read Brother

Lawrence?” He encouraged me to read the little book yet

again. God was obviously trying to tell me something.

I have a vivid memory of reading The Practice of the Presence

of God on a chilly October morning while sitting next to the

heating radiator on the floor:

…I consider myself as the most wretched of men. I

am full of faults, flaws, and weaknesses, and have

committed all sorts of crimes against [my] King.

Touched with a sensible regret I confess all my

wickedness to Him. I ask His forgiveness. I abandon

myself in His hands that He may do what He

pleases with me.

My King is full of mercy and goodness. Far from

chastising me, He embraces me with love. He

makes me eat at His table. He serves me with His

own hands and gives me the key to His treasures.

He converses and delights Himself with me

incessantly, in a thousand and a thousand ways.

And He treats me in all respects as His favorite. In

this way I consider myself continually in His holy

presence.

Suddenly it was as if God was right there with me and I

began to weep. As I read this passage I somehow

experienced the grace of God in my heart. As the following

years rolled by I began to call this moment my “grace

awakening.”

I think for the first time in my Christian life I grasped the

grace of God: that His love for me was not based on my

spiritual advancement, not based on my service to Him, and

not based on my spiritual disciplines which I had pursued

with the intensity of my athletic endeavors. His love for me

was constant, even WHILE I would yield myself to sinfulness.

In the midst of my failures His love watched over me!

Moving forward I would describe this as the difference of

following Christ under the banner of Law or Grace. The good

spiritual disciplines I had pursued had slowly become like the

Law of God in my life. When I gave myself to those

disciplines I felt as though I was accepted by God. When I

failed to keep my disciplines or gave myself to sin, I felt no

acceptance. If asked “How is your walk with Christ?” my

mind would immediately do a quick inventory: Have I had a

consistent devotional in the last few days? Have I struggled

with sin lately? This would dictate my response. It was all

based on my performance.

I began to realize that I had viewed my heavenly Father

through the lens of my earthly father. Like many men of his

generation, my dad was a disciplinarian. He would bark at

me for failures, whip me for really bad behavior, but would

rarely show me affection or tell me he loved me. I never

really felt neglected and I certainly do not think he was

abusive. There were some things about his parenting that I

later modeled and other things I worked to avoid.

I remember being told to clean out the garage, sweep it and

spray it out with the hose. I had worked on it for around

thirty minutes, but when my dad came out to check my work

he was not happy and proceeded to tell me I had not

sprayed the hose correctly. He took the hose and basically

sprayed the garage again, showing me exactly how it must

be done. I struggled to feel like I could do a good enough job

for my dad. This became my lens for serving God – nothing

was ever good enough and my spiritual disciplines became

my efforts to gain God’s approval and affection.

Brother Lawrence revealed the fruits of contemplative

prayer without really saying much about the discipline. Later,

during the same year of my “grace awakening,” I was

introduced to the Desert Fathers through Henri Nouwen’s

excellent book, The Way of the Heart. Brother Lawrence

prepared me to resist rejecting monks simply because they

were Catholic. Nouwen’s short presentation of Solitude,

Silence and Prayer through the Desert Fathers added

another dimension to my spiritual disciplines. I began using

solitude and silence in my prayer times as a vehicle for

listening.

4 Solitude and Silence

After my first child was born it became more difficult to find

peace and quiet in my house for devotion. I had become

accustomed to spending more than one hour reading my

Bible, writing in a journal, singing while playing my guitar and

prayer. The ministry I was leading had grown and I was

spending up to six hours daily with students and staff.

I really needed time alone.

Around once a month, on a Saturday morning, I would work

it into my schedule to go out into the woods to practice my

new discipline of solitude and silence. I found a pump

station (a small brick building on a concrete slab) by the

river. I would sit on the concrete slab with my back to the

wall. Other than the actual structure, no sign of humanity

could be seen or heard. It was a perfect place to spend a few

hours alone with God.

[I want to make it clear that I am describing what I consider

to be God communicating with me. I am not suggesting that

I am hearing an audible voice, nor am I claiming that I am

“hearing” perfectly. Having said this, millions of Christians

around the world have similar accounts of “hearing” God

speak. For me, THIS is a significant part of prayer.]

One day I set out with a bit more emotional urgency. I had

missed several weeks due to holidays and was feeling

motivated to get myself isolated. When I had finally settled

down on the concrete pad, ready to get started, I picked up

my guitar to play. Beginning my devotional time with a few

songs always seemed to help prepare me.

I strummed the strings one time when I heard the voice of

the Spirit say,

“Put your guitar down.”

Oh, that was a bit unusual. “The Lord must want to speak to

me through the scripture,” I thought. I put my guitar down

and picked up my Bible.

Before I could even open the Bible I heard, “Put your Bible

down.”

“Ok, Lord. I guess You want me to journal,” I said out loud.

I put my Bible down and grabbed my journal, but before I

could even get my journal to my lap I heard the voice again,

“Put your journal down.”

I sat my journal down, but now I was a bit frustrated. I

leaned back against the wall and said with an irritated tone,

“What do You want me to do?”

I do not want to give the impression that I hear the voice of

God this clearly all the time. That would not be accurate.

But this was one of those times when it seemed like I was

hearing fairly clearly.

“What do You want me to do?” I complained a second time.

The response I heard was, “Do you have to be entertained?”

“Do I have to keep you amused? Are you bored with just

being in My presence?”

Now I am feeling chastised, but am also very happy to be

hearing God speaking so clearly. His voice continued to ring

in my inner thoughts.

“What if I want you to just sit with me and enjoy being with

me? Do we have to be DOING something?”

At this time my oldest daughter, Hope, was probably three

years old. My wife worked during the day and I was Mr.

Mom, doing as much work as possible from home and taking

care of my daughter. She and I were very close, but honestly

during the day I would push her to occupy herself so I could

work: administrative stuff, study, or talk with somebody on

the phone. Students and staff would also come to my house

to meet with me. Many times Hope would play on the floor

nearby.

Sometimes she would climb up on my lap while I was

meeting with a student. Oftentimes I would slip my wedding

ring off and let her play with it. Sometimes she would just sit

in my lap quietly listening and occasionally she would fall

asleep. Usually as I was talking with a student or listening to

them I would gently stroke Hope’s hair or gently squeeze her

little arm or leg...and she was perfectly content.

So when the Lord said something like, “Can’t you just sit with

me?” my mind immediately thought of my little girl just

wanting to sit in my lap. Now I was weeping. I am hearing

the voice of my loving Father desiring for me to be content

just to be with Him!

My Type A, task-oriented personality was always looking for

something to DO. I always needed to be busy. I needed to

be doing something productive and my spiritual disciplines

fell into that rubric. I still wrestle with this personality and

drive. The best antidote in my life for this is solitude, silence

and contemplative prayer.

5 The Ascetical Cop

All spiritual disciplines are initiated to pursue God. As

Protestants we are taught that our spiritual disciplines help

us grow (become more like Jesus) and help us overcome our

“sin nature” (sinful behavior, habits or attitudes). As a young

man I had been taught the old Indian proverb that two

wolves are always fighting for control in my life – a good wolf

and a bad one. The one I feed the most will win. This seems

to drive our spiritual disciplines – it is feeding the good wolf,

our spiritual self. Other things in life feed our sinful self (the

bad wolf): engaging in sinful habits, thinking bad thoughts.

Like an athlete working out, running to stay in condition or

doing various drills, spiritual disciplines are the exercises for

a Christian. In Acts 24:16 Paul uses the verb askeo,

translated exercise in the Amplified Version;

I always exercise and discipline myself... to have a clear

(unshaken, blameless) conscience, void of offense toward

God and toward men.

A passage in 1 Corinthians 9:24-27 is one of the main New

Testament texts where the concept is illustrated:

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run,

but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to

get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games

goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown

that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will

last forever.

Therefore I do not run like someone running

aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air.

No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave

so that after I have preached to others, I myself will

not be disqualified for the prize.

This is a reference to the physical training athletes used in

the first century. Paul references his own spiritual training

using this athletic metaphor.

The spiritual writers of the church speak of this training using

ascesis (exercise), mostly translated as ascetic or asceticism.

If you look this word up you will typically get negative

connotations: “morbid self-denial,” or “severe self-

discipline.” Most of the spiritual writers were not pushing for

the extremes, but some of the Christian monks did take

spiritual disciplines too far. Some fasted to the point of

exhausting their bodies into malnourishment. Others

developed methods to punish their bodies, like wearing

clothing that rubbed their skin raw.

This illustrates the potential problem with any spiritual

discipline – it is initiated by our will and our efforts, it is a

product of “self” (ego in the Greek).

No matter how much effort you put into spiritual disciplines,

your ego (self) is involved. With ego comes the the most

dangerous pitfall of spiritual disciplines and all of the

spiritual writers consistently warned against it: pride.

Many Christians have faced this dilemma. The spiritual

disciplines are employed in our efforts to become more

“spiritual,” yet the more “spiritual” we become, the more

our ego (spiritual pride) must be faced and somehow denied.

We have all been around “spiritual” Christians who seem

either oblivious to their pride or they ignore it. We usually do

not want to be around such people.

I was that person for several years. Now, after 40+ years of

following Christ and having Him consistently burning the

arrogance from my heart, I still have to fight against this

tendency in my life. From time to time my ego pride jumps

out like Robert Louis Stevenson’s famous Mr. Hyde, the

alter-ego (his very name a play on words, like animal hide,

reminding us that Paul uses the Greek word sarx, translated

“flesh” for what we are talking about: sin nature or ego

selfishness).

One scholar comments on this dilemma found in one of the

church fathers by describing it as the Ascetical Cop chasing

the Ego Robber up the spiritual ladder to heaven. The ladder

to heaven is a commonly used metaphor for spiritual

progress. Our spiritual disciplines are always chasing (or

fighting) our ego self because our disciplines are initiated

and fueled by our efforts, our “self.”

The Ascetical Cop can never catch the Ego Robber as he

climbs the ladder to heaven. The “I” in our discipline is

always present to reaffirm the very ego our self-denial seeks

to defeat. Each inch of ground gained by our discipline is met

with the temptation to feel good about how “I” was able to

accomplish this goal.

This can seem discouraging at first and has led some well-

meaning Christians to lay down their disciplines in defeat.

But perhaps there is a very important lesson to be learned

right here. The spiritual writers believed that simply facing

this truth of our ego as an integral part of our spiritual

discipline was a good lesson in humility. And for the spiritual

Christian, humility is one of the highest goals.

6 DO or DONE?

Brother Lawrence, The Practice of the Presence of God and

Nouwen’s book The Way of the Heart are both on my list of

20 works on spirituality that every Christian should read.

Another book on this list is Sit, Walk, Stand, by Watchman

Nee, a great little devotional commentary on the book of

Ephesians.

In Chapter One, titled Sit, Nee writes,

Our natural reason says, “If we do not walk, how can we

ever reach the goal? What can we attain without effort?

How can we ever get anywhere if we do not move?” But

Christianity is a [strange] business! If at the outset we try

to do anything, we get nothing; if we seek to attain

something, we miss everything. For Christianity begins

not with a big DO, but with a big DONE…we are invited

at the very outset to sit down and enjoy what God has

done for us; not to set out to try and attain it for

ourselves…

“Sitting” is an attitude of rest. Something has been

finished, work stops, and we sit. It is paradoxical, but

true, that we only advance in the Christian life as we

learn first of all to sit down…in the spiritual realm, to sit

down is simply to rest our whole weight— our load,

ourselves, our future, everything—upon the Lord…

This was God’s principle from the beginning. In the

creation God worked from the first to the sixth day and

rested on the seventh…God’s seventh day was, in fact,

Adam’s first. Whereas God worked six days and then

enjoyed his Sabbath rest, Adam began his life with the

Sabbath; for God works before he rests, while man must

first enter into God’s rest, and then alone can he work.

This is a good text for introducing contemplative prayer.

The day I sensed the Lord telling me to put my “active”

disciplines down (guitar playing, journaling, reading the

Bible) was the start of a new lesson: my spiritual progress

had revolved too much around my efforts, my

disciplines…me, myself and more me.

My frustration had come from God stripping away some of

my ego. I sat and complained, “What do You want Me to

DO?” The Lord did not show me exactly what Watchman Nee

shares above, but in essence His message was,

I do not want you to DO anything.

I have DONE it ALL for you.

I want you to SIT with me.

To put it bluntly the Lord could have said, “Look, all of your

efforts are like filthy rags. I have used your efforts to get you

here, but it is time to put this addiction down.”

Addiction?

Yes, many disciplined Christians come to the place of

realizing this somewhat painful truth: their spiritual ego

(pride) is addicted to spiritual disciplines. I have a personality

that lends itself to addiction. You can call it ADD or OCD...or

just an addictive streak, but I know the various drives in me.

For me this small start of laying down my addiction for

spiritual disciplines was the beginning of contemplative

prayer in my life.

7 Introduction to Contemplative Prayer

While I have engaged to some degree in this type of prayer

for several years, I do not pretend to have complete

understanding, nor do I think I can fully explain it. In this

chapter I will attempt to explain it in a practical way. In Part

Two I will give a more academic and technical explanation

for how this concept was introduced into the Christian

Church and how it developed.

First, a basic definition.

contemplation: to look at, or gaze at something intently; to

think about or study carefully.

We have all gone outside late in the evening on a clear night

to gaze at the stars. During our first year in Scotland we lived

in Pitscottie, a village around six miles outside of St Andrews.

Many nights I would stay in the library until it closed, then

drive home. More than a few times I would pull my little car

off the country road to gaze at the amazing sky, FILLED with

stars.

Why is it common to say “stargaze?” Look up “gaze” in a

dictionary. The definition is almost identical to

“contemplate.” The act of looking at stars happens to be

one of the best ways to understand contemplation.

I have been with others who like to point out the various

constellations or the visible planets. This type of stargazing

usually leads to thoughts of how each star is like our sun, and

what kind of moon is being displayed, or where Mercury will

be in a few days. This is one way of contemplating the stars

– to think about various aspects of the physical objects we

are observing.

Another way to contemplate, or gaze at the star-filled sky is

to sit and try to take it all in without clearly thinking about

all the physical dynamics. This reminds me of how I gazed at

the Grand Canyon the only time I have been there to see it.

I stood in awe, probably open-mouthed and speechless. It

was so...HUGE...it was...surreal...my mind was numb. I do

not remember thinking about much of anything, just trying

to take it in. This is another way to contemplate the stars.

There are evenings, usually during colder weather, when I

will carry a light-weight rocking chair out into my driveway

and just sit gazing at the stars. I am usually not thinking

about the actual stars or the physical universe – I am usually

not really thinking about anything specific. These are times

when I am trying to “take in” the greatness of God and His

creation…and by extension I am trying to connect myself to

Him...in Him...be with Him.

This is a basic definition and explanation of contemplative

prayer. Yes, it IS that simple. I want to urge you in this

journey – this is just an introduction, but my advice is not to

make it more complicated than it needs to be.

When my daughters were young (around 5 and 10 yrs old)

I would wake them up in the middle of the night to go

outside and lay down with a large blanket on the ground to

watch a meteor shower. I am smiling right now, just thinking

of how special those moments were...for ME...their Dad.

They were not thinking about how each star is like our sun or

how many light-years we were from these stars. And I was

not about to spoil their adventure by trying to explain this

technical stuff. They were taking in the awesome feeling of

gazing at something beyond their understanding.

If we are going to err in contemplative prayer, let us do it on

the side of being God’s children sitting in awe rather than

getting caught up in the technical, theological and

philosophical aspects of the journey. These things are fine,

but the goal is to embrace God’s presence...to learn the art

of sensing His greatness which is beyond anything we can

intellectually comprehend.

There are three basic components to begin learning the art

of contemplative prayer: meditation, silence and listening.

Meditation

Look up “meditate” in a good dictionary. The first definition

will probably be something like this: “to engage in

contemplation or reflection.”

Please be patient with me here; I am not running in a circle.

I use “meditation” as one of the starting points for

contemplation because most of us already have a basic idea

of what meditation means.

As I mentioned earlier, I had already been urged by spiritual

leaders to memorize biblical text. Many of us have

memorized more biblical text than we realize. As a way to

start learning contemplation I would sit in prayer and slowly

go over memorized scripture.

Almost every Christian knows the Lord’s Prayer (Our Father):

“Our Father, Who art in heaven…”

Go over the “Our Father” slowly in your mind.

Slowly…you are NOT in a hurry. Repeat and ponder each

phrase. Linger on each phrase.

“Our Father who art in heaven…”

I thank You, God, that You are MY Father. I thank You that

You live in eternity and I can trust You with my earthly life.

“Hallowed be Thy Name.”

Hallowed be Thy Name. Your Name is awesome. Jesus. The

great Yahweh. Nothing compares to You, oh God!

As you move through this scripture, this prayer given by

Jesus for us as an example of HOW to pray, let your mind

slow down as you repeat a phrase two or three times. Try to

allow the phrase to sink deeply into your soul – like gazing

into the star-filled sky.

You are not trying to figure out the “correct” meaning of this

prayer, or discover some mystery nobody has ever seen. You

are slowing down your ego NEED to be DOING something.

You are asking God’s presence to surround you and fill you.

You are meditating on Him.

When my children were young I would lay down in the bed

with each of them for some “snuggle” time and prayer. I

would use this time to teach them the Lord’s Prayer and the

Apostle’s Creed. I would gently stroke their little brow above

their eye with my thumb as they recited the text, prompting

them when they would get stuck (again, I find myself smiling

as I type this...such special moments for me...their Daddy).

Hopefully these two texts are now deep in their hearts,

ready for moments when they need to “know” and “feel”

God’s presence. My hope is that the fatherly love and

affection I gave them will help them sense how much their

Heavenly Father loves them...and is with them.

The biblical text you use to focus and still your mind is just a

tool to help you slow down...to embrace a peaceful moment,

and gaze into the face of your Heavenly Father.

Silence

As you move into this method of prayer, slowly repeating

and meditating on each phrase, you might find yourself

sitting for a span of several seconds in silence.

We need to find God, and he cannot be found in

noise and restlessness. God is the friend of

silence…see the stars, the moon and the sun, how

they move in silence...

Mother Teresa

We think of silence as not making noise. Silence of our mind

is part of what we need.

I am a talker, so prayer is naturally talking to God for me. I

am a thinker, so my mind is constantly rolling over ideas. But

there is a time for us to bring silence into prayer: no talking

and no active thinking. This is called “listening” and it is our

next tip for learning this discipline.

Evangelicals have historically been skeptical of meditation

and silence. We really do not like the concept of NOT

thinking. In the 1970’s meditation gained popularity through

Transcendental Meditation. This is NOT what we are talking

about. There is a fear that a silenced mind, a “blank” mind

will open the door for the kingdom of darkness. But a silent

mind is NOT blank - it is a listening mind.

Listening

Anyone who knows me knows that I love to talk! My family

members roll their eyes when they are with me in public

because I will stop to talk with anyone. Nobody is a stranger.

But talking is not listening. Many of us have to work at

listening. It is easy during a good conversation to be thinking

of what you want to say rather than keenly listening to what

the other person is saying. The same is true in prayer.

Meditation leads to silence.

Silence should lead us to listen.

An important part of contemplative prayer is being quiet so

we can listen for His voice. Too much of our praying is a one-

way conversation. We talk and we ask. We need to spend

more time listening.

Some of us can relate to stories of hearing from the Lord.

Some of these are dramatic; some are just common sense

coming through the inner voice of our mind. I am convinced

that the Lord wants us to hear His voice. I think He is

oftentimes speaking to us, but we have not learned to hear

Him.

I am sitting in my office typing on my laptop. There are

wireless signals moving through this office all the time, but I

cannot hear the sounds from these signals without some

kind of receiver. With the right App I can listen to the radio

or watch a video.

We need to learn how to hear God’s voice. To do this we

must learn how to turn our “receiver” unit on. Silent

listening is usually a good way to practice for hearing His

voice. But hearing His voice is not the only reason to

practice contemplative prayer.

Just remember as you move forward: meditation, silence and

listening are just the first components for learning how to

practice the discipline of contemplative prayer.

8 The Impact of a Father

I have used my daughters several times to illustrate aspects

of interacting with our Heavenly Father. My spiritual life has

been deeply impacted by having children...and being a

father.

I want to specifically address men right here.

Men oftentimes struggle with emotions and with showing

affection. It is difficult for many men to read about, or think

about, having affection for God...or God having affection for

them.

Early in my Christian life I realized that my view of God was

tainted by my relationship with my earthly father. He was

not a cruel man nor was he a terrible father. Like many in his

generation, growing up immediately after the Great

Depression made for a hard life.

My father served one hitch in the Air Force. He was a stern

disciplinarian. I grew up getting spanked a lot. I probably

deserved every single whipping. I had a healthy fear of my

father. To get in serious trouble at school would mean facing

my dad when he got home from work. This was something I

never wanted to experience.

He was a NASA engineer. He earned many awards for his

excellent service. There was a right way...and a wrong way to

do everything. Like many others I have listened to, I grew up

with the feeling that I could never make him happy. I have

memories of having to do a chore more than once because I

failed to do it right the first time.

None of my story is terribly unique – many of you came from

a similiar childhood and have probably nodded your head a

few times already.

However, I have met many men and women who had much

worse. It has pained me to hear stories of fathers (and

mothers) who yelled, cursed, threw things at their children,

and hit them with their fists. Some were punched in the face

or around the head. Most of these parents were either

alcoholics or had serious emotional or even psychological

issues. Many of them probably had parents who mistreated

them, thus they did not have a good parenting model.

I do not want to take too much time here, but the negative

effects on people being raised fatherless, or having an

abusive father...or even fathers who fail to show their

children (boys and girls) affection are well documented. The

effects of such treatment on our spiritual lives are profound.

Here are a few books I would recommend.[n]

What I want to say to the men reading this is simple: do not

close yourself off from feeling God’s affection. It is not easy,

but you will have to open your mind...and your heart to

allow God to do His work.

I grew up in a manly home with two brothers and no sisters.

We were all three rugged boys. We played cowboys and

indians. We played war. We had fist fights with each other

and with other neighborhood boys.

Our yard was the kickball field of the neighborhood. We

would have 5-6 boys on each team. Our house sat on a

corner lot, so the streets were part of the playing field. We

would drag the water hose from around the backyard and

take turns drinking from the hose for water breaks.

Ah...those were the good ol’ days.

I am a manly man. I never had a girl as a “friend” until high

school. Almost every girlfriend I ever had approached me. In

high school I only asked girls for a date if they had made it

clear that they liked me. I was very naive when it came to

girls and I just did not know how to approach them. I think

guys who grow up with sisters are better equipped to deal

with girls and to approach them properly.

Everything changed when I married my wife. I had never

been around a girl in a home other than my mother. It

was...different...and sometimes difficult for me.

Then we had two daughters. I have already described some

of my memories and how being a father changed the way I

viewed God as MY father. The feelings I had for my

daughters easily translated into how God must feel about

me. Honestly, I have moments of being overwhelmed by

emotion when these kinds of thoughts hit me.

I have friends with sons. I have watched them playing with

their sons and showing them affection. As a young man,

seeing a father show a son affection would bother me. My

mother showed me affection, but affection coming from my

father was rare. Now I see these friends of mine showing the

same affection to their grown sons...and it gives me a

warmth in my heart. It would have been so much better if

my dad had done this, but at least now I have experienced

this kind of love and affection with my daughters. My little

family (including my son-in-law) is still very affectionate.

Let me conclude this chapter with a bit of exhortation to

both men and women who struggle with feeling God’s love

and affection. Contemplative prayer could very well be a

doorway to help you find this place with God in your spiritual

life. It might not be easy. It may take some time. But I know

this: He wants you to know...and to feel His affection and

love.

9 The Practice of God’s Presence

Now that I have offered a basic introduction to the concept

of contemplative prayer, let’s look at a few practical

suggestions (and pitfalls) for growing in this discipline.

Patience.

Be prepared for a struggle. Do not think you will be able to

practice contemplative prayer quickly, especially if you have

a Type-A, task-driven personality. Like most spiritual

disciplines, you will sometimes fail.

Start small. Separate yourself with a goal of 5-10 minutes set

aside for contemplative prayer.

Resist the spirit of DO.

This might sound crazy, but I will often struggle with feeling

like I am wasting time when I am sitting with the Lord trying

to practice His presence or getting my mind to calm down.

Would I feel that way if I were engaging in “spiritual warfare”

or “intercessory” prayer? No. Then why would I struggle

with this mode of prayer? Because my personality, my

culture and my family background have persuaded me that

sitting in quietness and doing nothing is being lazy.

I have a few friends with more passive and quiet

personalities who serve in pastoral ministry. Two of them

have shared with me in private that they struggle with sitting

around daydreaming when they should be doing other

things. Honestly, this is difficult for me to understand except

when it comes to contemplative prayer. People with a more

laid-back personality might find it less difficult to engage in a

quiet, calm contemplative prayer time.

An Overactive Mind

It never fails. When I settle down to engage in

contemplative prayer, just as I am getting my mind quiet I

start thinking of tasks, things I REALLY need to do! Amazing

how many things can jump into your mind when you are

trying to quiet down for fellowship time with God.

It became my practice to grab a pen and paper and write

these tasks down. This would satisfy my mind, knowing I

would not forget, and help to remove the “junk” from my

mind so peace and quiet could take over.

A Wandering Mind

Another struggle for many of us attempting to sit quietly

before the Lord is a wandering mind. Usually this is not a

problem of thinking sinful thoughts, but a mind jumping

around with all kinds of disconnected thoughts.

This is a problem of focus. Most of us are not accustomed to

having a quiet mind at rest. Indeed, even while sleeping the

mind can be actively dreaming. We only refer to dreams

when we happen to remember the wandering of our minds,

but our brain is working more in our sleep than we ever

remember.

In contemplative prayer this wandering mind issue is best

addressed by using focused attention on a scriptural text –

meditation.

So rather than growing frustrated with a wandering mind,

give your mind something fruitful to ponder like the Lord’s

Prayer. Hopefully as you grow in the practice of

contemplative prayer you will find this place of having a

quiet mind easier to attain.

Falling Asleep

As you grow in this practice it can become easier to fall

asleep. The first time I dozed off while practicing this type of

prayer I became frustrated with myself and immediately

asked the Lord to forgive me for my lack of self-control. But I

felt the Lord’s response to be full of grace.

This again reminds me of when my little children would fall

asleep while sitting in lap. I would certainly not become

angry with them! It was special. It spoke of their total

comfort with me, their sense of safety…and peace.

When you find that you have fallen asleep while practicing

comtemplative prayer, simply focus again and resume your

sense of being with the Lord.

Listening

Remember, an important aspect of contemplative prayer,

different from our “normal” prayer life, is a focus on listening

for His voice. We do not want to do all the “talking.”

In your listening make sure you are not straining. Like sitting

on a beach and absorbing a beautiful sunset in silence, just

sit with God. If He wants to speak to you, He will.

I oftentimes get on edge, feeling like I NEED to hear Him

speak. Well, He is the Almighty One. If He wants to speak, He

will. If you do not hear anything, perhaps you should learn

to relax...and let God be in control. This is a common

problem for me.

You are also not waiting for God to explain the mysteries of

faith: the trinity, how to reconcile free will with sovereignty,

or when the second coming will happen. This is NOT the

goal. You are the small child sitting in your Father’s lap.

With eyes of wonder my children would look up at me and

ask the cutest and most simple questions. Now they are

adults – I wish I could go back and live those moments again!

My focus is always on ME. Our gracious heavenly Father is

not at all like that. His focus is on you and He does cherish

His time with you!

Our quiet sitting and listening is all about cherishing His

presence. Contemplative prayer should lead us not to be

seeking answers or trying to get direction. Like when my

children sat in my lap, our goal is simple: BE with our Father.

We are not there to be entertained, or to be taking copious

notes like we are in a classroom. Just sit and BE with your

Heavenly Father.

He will speak His heart to you...if you will allow it. Like I

described with my daughters, you will hear about His love for

you. A gentle squeezing on your arm or the gentle caress of

His thumb on your brow…if you can bear it.

Some of us crave His loving attention, but some of us have

difficulty hearing and feeling it. Some of us are stuck in DO

mode, trying to earn His favor. Contemplative prayer will, by

it’s very nature, strike the pride in our hearts that seeks to

earn favor. He will FREELY give His love and mercy and we

MUST accept it, knowing full well that we did NOT earn it.

This brings humility into our hearts.

The Ascetical Cop

You have not escaped the ascetical cop.

Contemplative prayer is like a doorway you have entered to

escape the “I” driven spiritual disciplines, but the room you

have entered is somewhat large. It may take some time to

find the door on the other side.

You may never completely outrun the ascetical cop and the

pressure that you must DO spiritual disciplines, but one of

our goals is to move away from serving God from fear.

Contemplative prayer, the freedom of sitting with God to

simply enjoy His presence, helps to lead us to the place of

serving Him from love.

Resist the Ego of Spiritual Pride

The history of how the Church treated those who wanted to

go beyond the “normal” Christian life into a greater sense of

spirituality has been one of suspicion. This happened early in

the second century with honoring martyrs, then the

Montanist movement, later with the development of the

monastic movement and each new order, then through the

Reformation with each new group, then in the early 20th

century with the Holy Spirit movement most known by the

Azusa Street Revival, and then the charismatic movement of

the 1970’s. I could list more specific movements, but have

listed major ones to reference my point.

The history of those who push into a greater spirituality has

often been one of holding themselves aloof with a sense of

spiritual superiority.

As you begin to practice contemplative prayer there will be a

temptation to hold yourself up against those others who do

not yet know this discipline. Just like all other spiritual

disciplines, contemplative prayer is still a discipline initiated

by self (ego). Pride, that hideous Mr. Hyde, is always

crouching at the door.

10 The Concept of Spiritual Desert

Many of the great spiritual writers address the concept of

spiritual desert, the idea that some Christians (maybe all)

experience times when it seems like God is NOT present with

them. The desert experience seems connected with

contemplative prayer if for no other reason than many of the

spiritual writers address the issue. I will offer my simple

opinion on this issue at the end of this chapter.

A biblical passage that comes to mind is Matthew 4:1, “Then

Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted

by the devil.” He is “led by the Spirit” into this time of testing

and emotional strain. This was obviously an extremely

difficult emotional and spiritual test the Lord Jesus endured.

The spiritual writers speak of darkness and the sense that

God, though He is present, is obscured by darkness. I will

give specific examples in Part Three, but for now we simply

want to acknowledge this concept of being in a spiritual

place where God seems to hide Himself. King Hezekiah is

described in 2 Kings 18:5-6:

Hezekiah trusted in the Lord, the God of Israel.

There was no one like him among all the kings

of Judah, either before him or after him. He

held fast to the Lord and did not stop following

him...

Yet in 2 Chronicles 32:31 Hezekiah is being visited by an

envoy from Babylon to hear his story of being healed and

spared from death. The text reads, “God left him to test him

and to know everything that was in his heart.”

These two texts, taken together, seem to capture the

essence of the spiritual desert experience. Many devoted

Christians can testify to times in their lives when it felt like

God was distant. The closer a believer is to God, the more

difficult this spiritual dryness feels.

I am going to share my personal story of struggle with the

spiritual desert. As with most other topics, I am NOT claiming

to be an expert in this arena, but as with contemplative

prayer, my experiences do inform my understanding. My

goal is simply to give you a real life account that is meant to

encourage you in YOUR journey. Your journey is unique, just

as mine has been. God will meet YOU in a unique way, just as

a good parent modifies his/her interaction with each unique

child.

In the summer of 1988 I had been a Christian for a dozen

years and married for five years. My wife and I had just

finished our second year as campus pastors at the University

of Alabama and it had been a great year. I had an intense

feeling that we had accomplished some important goals with

our key group of students and that the coming year was

going to be excellent.

Around the middle of June I found myself struggling. I did not

want to engage in any of my spiritual disciplines. When I

tried to read the scriptures or pray I felt numb. I had no

desire for anything spiritual. It felt like I was trapped in an

empty, locked room with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and

worse, I had no sense of desire to DO anything. I laid around

our apartment filled with apathy and lethargy. After a week

or more I started to worry that perhaps I should not serve in

ministry anymore. I did not dare share ANY of this with

anyone. I was ashamed of my spiritual lethargy and had no

idea of how to fix it.

After around a month, I suddenly realized one day that the

malaise was gone. I was stunned and perplexed, but very

happy to be back to “normal.” It continued to perplex me

however. I grew up with an engineer father and in my world

everything needed an explanation. Honestly I do not

remember exactly how it happened, but somebody either

mentioned the “spiritual desert” concept or I read something

about it in a book. The “desert” part reminded me of the

Henri Nouwen book “The Way of the Heart.” I read it again

and yes! – the Desert Fathers! Somehow it started to make a

bit of sense to me, but things were back to normal and I

stopped trying to figure it out. I was gratefully out of that

malaise; I was feeling passion again. So I got busy again.

Two or three years later, again during the summer, I found

myself in a malaise. This time I more quickly thought maybe

this was some kind of “desert” and I was more motivated to

learn about this phenomenon. I read an article (I think it was

in National Geographic) that referenced Hidden Life of the

Desert, by Thomas Wiewandt. This article talked about life in

the desert, a hot environment that seems desolate. I learned

about many forms of plant and animal life that mostly come

out at night. I started thinking this “desert” experience had a

purpose; I could find spiritual life during these strange times

when I felt little passion and little motivation. I actually had a

sense of excitement. Maybe God has something special for

me during this seemingly dry and lonely time.

After around two months I suddenly realized one day that

this desert, or whatever it was, had ended. Just like the first

time, I was happy and relieved...so again I got busy with life.

Sometime in 1994 I found out that Gary Thomas had

published a book, Seeking the Face of God, that referenced

early Christian writers. I had met Gary when he was a

student at Western Washington University, then heard him

speak one summer to the student fellowship while he was

doing graduate work at Regent College in Vancouver,

Canada.

I had started having a keen interest in the early church

fathers and was interested in his book because he was

talking about Christian writers prior to the Reformation.

Again, my memory is not as keen as I would like, but I think I

found his book in the library and read it through in one

afternoon, taking notes in order to find some of the authors

he cited. Gary’s book was my first encounter with some of

the great spiritual writers of the faith AND he talked about

the spiritual desert.

Onward to Scotland

A few years later my little family moved to St Andrews,

Scotland where I had been accepted into the Ph.D. program

at the Divinity School (the story of how God led us to go to

Scotland is amazing, but too lengthy to share here). I had

reached out to the leader of my denomination and had

volunteered my services to pastor if they had a small church

with need of a part-time pastor. I did not want to be totally

engulfed in the academy; I feared losing contact with

“regular” Christians. Around two months after our arrival a

pastor in Edinburgh contacted me, asking if I would consider

taking a small church in Dundee on the other side of the

River Tay. One of the elders from the Edinburgh church was

going to conduct the service that coming Sunday and wanted

me to join him to “meet” the church. I agreed to go with

him.

As we made our way on the A914 to cross the Tay Bridge this

elder and I got to know each other, then he started telling

me about Bethany Church. The little church was right in the

middle of downtown Dundee, tucked away down a wee

alley. It had once been a solid little church, but the pastor

had retired and the little church now had only around twenty

people. I was not bothered by this, knowing that I was only

to serve as a part-time student pastor.

When we arrived there were four people there: the retired

pastor and his wife and two older sisters. The elder led

worship, playing the piano and singing loudly, then he

exhorted the church as if there had been 40 people present.

Bill, the retired pastor, apologetically informed us that

indeed the four people there were the only ones left in the

little church. The whole affair was a shock for me, but I really

liked the retired pastor. As soon as we got into the car, the

elder turned to me and said, “Oh my, I am so sorry about

this. We had no idea that the church was so small. Obviously,

you do not need to feel obligated.” But I had made a

commitment to serve wherever needed. So I accepted the

call to serve the little church.

Over the course of the next few months I felt that malaise

coming on me...again.

I was overwhelmed by the academic program and by my

fellow Ph.D. candidates. Most of my colleagues had M.Div

degrees from well-known schools: Duke, Princeton and other

respected schools like Trinity Evangelical and Gordon-

Conwell. My undergraduate degree was from a smaller

school in Business Administration! The amount of reading I

needed to do was mind-numbing. I had to employ and

relearn my speed reading skills I had picked up as a

sophomore some 18 years prior.

The little church was not discouraging. I quickly became good

friends with Bill Lilburn, the retired pastor. He and his wife,

Elspeth were so gracious to me and to my family. The church

started slowly growing as news spread that there was a

“yankee” from America pastoring! LOL.

I wanted to give the back story to help explain my

understanding of the spiritual desert concept. As the next

few months rolled on I fought discouragement. I started

thinking I had made a mistake and was destined to fail in the

quest for a Ph.D. My dad urged me on a phone call to keep

going. By the end of the first semester I was beginning to feel

like I could do it. We stayed.

As the next few months rolled by I continued reading

spirituality writers and pondering this new desert I was

experiencing. Obviously this is speculation, but I traced the

beginning of this desert to around a year and a half before

we moved to Scotland. So here I was living in Scotland, doing

research at a world-class university AND pastoring a little

church...while I am in a spiritual desert.

I was spiritually numb. I would preach on Sunday mornings

and see people with tears in their eyes, moved by

God...while I felt nothing. My prior desert experiences led

me to believe that it would not last forever, that I just

needed to be faithful. God was doing something in my life,

and He was with me even though I could not feel Him.

Interestingly, the only passion I felt was for my research. The

more I read in the spiritual writers, the more I grasped

concerning my personal situation. In my prior desert

experiences, I had just wanted it to end. This time I began to

embrace the desert, looking for nourishment in places I had

never considered. Somehow I found peace in my research.

I started to love it. Although I did not feel His presence, I

knew He was with me.

The church continued to slowly grow. We were close to

twenty in attendance on Sunday mornings. Everyone was

excited. I led worship on a cheap guitar and preached. I

continued to be amazed at how folks in the church were

feeling the presence of God while I felt nothing. I should

mention here – I never shared about my spiritual desert in

the church.

A few fellow students in St Andrews came to ME for spiritual

counsel! I was older than most of my fellow students and

they knew I was pastoring a church, but I ALWAYS shared

about my personal struggle with these students. I could not

offer spiritual help without first admitting my own struggle.

On trips back to the USA I would share about this desert

experience with good friends, most of them in some form of

ministry. After a brief description of my situation it was

common to be asked a series of questions:

“Have you repented for sin?”

”What is God saying to you?”

”Have you fasted and prayed for an answer?”

These are the kind of questions you will typically get from a

Protestant, especially a conservative one when you describe

being in a spiritually dry place. Part of my motivation to write

about the spiritual desert and contemplative prayer is

because these are concepts the Reformation mostly left

behind. Most Protestants are unaware of how familiar the

leaders of the Reformation were with the church fathers,

mostly in positive ways. [n, I would encourage readers to get

D.H. Williams, Retrieving the Tradition and Renewing

Evangelicalism, a great book written by an excellent

Protestant patristics scholar.]

Is spiritual dryness the result of living in sin? It certainly can

be. But my experience is that sin is there whether we know it

or not. The letters of Paul indicate this as does a broad

reading of the spiritual writers. If a Christian lives in

deliberate sinfulness without remorse, not asking for God’s

forgiveness and help, then spiritual dryness (possibly worse)

can certainly be the end result. The biblical text also clearly

indicates this truth.

But remember the biblical texts from the introduction of this

chapter, “Jesus, being led by the Spirit, entered the desert...”

Matthew 4:1 AND “God left [Hezekiah] to test him...”

2 Chronicles 32:31

The spiritual desert is not a punishment. Nor is it a

destination you should desire to experience. But it is a place

where God may lead you in order to do things in your heart

and soul that He deems are necessary.

When my friends would ask me “What is God saying to you?”

[I just laughed as I was typing this question] I would quickly

and emphatically reply,

“Nothing. That’s the point! I am in a desert. God is NOT

speaking to me. Of course I have asked Him to speak to me!

I get nothing.”

The spiritual desert is a “dry and weary land where there is

no water.” Psalm 63:1. Having endured this dry land for

quite a long time, I am far more gracious to those who come

to me with spiritual dryness looking for help. I do not quickly

ask them about sin in their lives. I might go there, but I no

longer immediately assume this is the cause.

God does not always speak to us. His mode of speaking is

different for each of His children, but He is not going to

ALWAYS speak. We have to allow Him to be the Father.

One of the main characteristics of the spiritual desert is that

God is silent. Even when I am not in a desert I will complain

to God when He is not communicating with me as I

want...but ultimately I have to trust Him.

What about fasting? Prayer? Reading the scriptures?

These are all what we call discursive disciplines, where we

move from one matter to the next. Most spiritual disciplines

are based on what we do. The spiritual desert is a place God

takes you in large part to separate you from the disciplines

you have always used – like taking away your crutches after

a broken leg has healed. You have to walk on the leg to

regain strength.

Your normal spiritual disciplines can feel useless in the

desert. And they indeed might be relatively useless.

Remember, the desert is filled with life that is not normally

seen. Life typically comes out at night when there is no

scorching heat. In the desert you have to find uncommon

sources of nourishment.

The Desert Comes to an End

After a bit more than three years I completed my degree and

the family moved back to the USA. After over a year of trying

to land a teaching post, I finally got a job with a software

company in North Carolina and I continued in the malaise.

Around four years into our time in North Carolina two of our

Scottish friends, Des and Sharon, came over to visit with us.

One night Des and I went for a bike ride and I started telling

him my spiritual desert story. I had not shared anything

about my desert experience with anyone in the church while

in Scotland, so part of my story had to include WHY I had

never told him.

He was not really familiar with the spiritual desert concept

and had several good questions about it in addition to

personal questions for me. It was a great discussion. While

answering a question about what my emotional feelings

were like in this desert, something happened.

I stopped in the middle of the road. Des did not see me stop

and he continued biking down the road for around 50 yards.

He realized I had stopped and he called out “What’s wrong?”

as he came back to me. I was standing straddled on my bike

looking up into the stars, scanning the sky back and

forth...not saying anything. “Al, what’s wrong?” Des said

again as he came right up to me. I had started crying,

“Des...Des...I’m out.”

”Al, what are you talking about?”

I finally looked at him, “I’m out,” I gasped.

”It’s over. I’m not in a desert anymore.” I gazed back up into

the sky.

”How do you know?” Des asked.

I returned my gaze at Des, slapping my chest as I started

crying a bit more, my voice cracking, ”I feel Him again. It’s

over...I can feel Him again.”

This is a vivid memory I will never forget. It was like coming

to Christ all over again. I cannot remember anything about

the ride back to the house.

My eight year spiritual desert ended suddenly. I did not see it

coming.

May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify

you through and through. May your whole

spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the

coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who

calls you is faithful, and he will do it.

1 Thess 5:23-24

I am convinced for the most part that God sovereignly takes

you into a spiritual desert and He lets you out...when He

thinks it best. As the great Scottish theologian James

Torrence liked to say, “God is sovereign and He does what

He jolly well pleases.”

I do not think we control whether we enter into a spiritual

desert (again, I am not including willful and sustained

rebellion). God controls IF, WHEN and WHAT it will look like.

And He is in control of WHEN it will end.

I do not think you can DO anything to make it end. Strap

yourself in and surrender control to your Lord. He knows

what He is doing.

For around two weeks after my desert came to an end things

would occur to me, things seemed different...in me.

I found myself being more gracious. I did not have to try as

hard, it just seemed to come more naturally. When someone

around me failed I found myself being more patient.

I realized that I no longer sat in church battling negative, ego-

driven thoughts about those in leadership: “Wow, this guy

needs to stop repeating himself.”

”I could lead worship better than this crew.”

”This guy needs to learn how to exgete the text.”

It is embarrassing to admit, but these were the kinds of

thoughts I had battled in church for years. And I ALWAYS

wanted to be up front.

But now I was truly content to sit in a pew and just be there

to feel God’s presence through the worship or through the

message. My sense of the need for everything to be

“excellent” had dissipated. Worship, no matter how the

music sounded, was good. I could feel His presence again. I

could hear God speak through just about any message. Living

through a fairly lengthy desert eating old tasteless bread and

drinking only stale water had made me more appreciative of

green beans, rice, or even weak tea.

I no longer had the itch to be up front. I was able to

appreciate the giftings of others more. I realized I had been

broken of an addiction...yes, an addiction to ministry.

I always wanted to be in the middle of whatever God was

doing. On the surface that sounds good, but not when you

tend to think YOU can do it better than the next guy. It is

such a blessing to be mostly free of this feeling, this

need...this addiction.

My eight years in a spiritual desert was not enjoyable, but it

was rewarding in ways that are difficult to describe. I have

tried my best in this chapter. I regret that I struggled with

self-pity so much...”Why me?” I wish I had been more joyful

during this trial. I regret that I was in a hurry: in a hurry to

get out of the desert; in a hurry to complete my Ph.D. and

leave Scotland, such a beautiful and interesting place. You

see, in the back of my mind I thought the desert would end

once I completed my task and landed a teaching job. But that

did not happen. And I think I failed to fully embrace the

desert experience. But, God is merciful and He did His work.

Would I want to go into another desert? No.

Without hesitation I say “no.”

However, if God were to show me a doorway and I could see

a desert on the other side and He were to say, “I want you to

go through this doorway,” I would ask Him to let this cup

pass from me.

But if He then gave me a choice: “You do not have to go into

this desert, but if you decide not to I will take back the good I

did in your heart during your last desert.”

I would quickly grab a backpack and off I would go.

The desert is not fun. But I do NOT want to lose what God

did in my heart during the last desert without me knowing

it...and without MY effort.

I can tell you with certainty: I do NOT want to go through

another desert. But I would do it again and I think...I hope

and pray that I would do it with a better attitude the next

time.

Finally, I was delivered from my addiction to spiritual

disciplines. I still have spiritual disciplines in my life. People

around me joke about my “monkish ways.” But I can now

practice my disciplines from a position of inner peace rather

than a deep-seated sense that I MUST do them OR ELSE. I do

not fear, for example, that if I neglect disciplines God will

leave me. The desert taught me that if He wants to hide

Himself from me as He did with Hezekiah – it’s going to

happen even if I am fasting every other day and spending ten

hours daily in devotions.

Contemplative prayer was about the ONLY spiritual discipline

I was able to consistently practice while in the spiritual

desert. I preached every Sunday in Scotland so I had to do

some time in the scriptures...I certainly did pray, but with my

normal disciplines I felt nothing. I was addicted to getting

feedback with each discipline. Whether it was God meeting

me or just my feeling that He must be pleased – I wanted

that feedback...I needed it. I think my discipline of

contemplative prayer carried me through the desert. The

focus in this kind of prayer is NOT YOU as much as it is Him.

Resting in His presence, not DOING anything to merit

Him...just being there whether you feel anything or not.

I am not claiming to be right about all of this. It’s just my

experience and how I see it. It is very real for me and informs

my relationship with the living God, my Heavenly Father. And

overall the great spiritual writers hold these same views.

11 Being Close to God

Having shared about the spiritual desert, I want to address

the other side of the spiritual coin – the spiritual

mountaintop. Most of us have been in a situation where we

had an amazing experience with God: a spiritual retreat, an

extremely meaningful wedding or funeral, or even a

powerful church service. A time when something happened

and we had a moment...or longer where God became far

more near than usual.

These spiritual mountaintops are usually experiences we

never forget. God seemed to draw very near and something

happened that marked our lives. Such experiences typically

are not lengthy spans of time, usually a week or a weekend

event. Christians have sought out such times of refreshing

and spiritual nourishment from early on in our history. In the

fourth century, men inspired by reading The Life of Anthony,

flocked to the Egyptian desert in search of spiritual

greatness. Christians in the hundreds went on pilgrimage to

the Holy Land in the fourth century in search of spiritual

renewal. The same is true now. In 2019 almost 2.5 million

Christians visited Israel as tourists. Most of these tourists

travel with a church group and the hope is almost always to

have a spiritual mountaintop experience.

The mountaintop experiences I have had in my over 40 years

of following Christ remain some of my most cherished

spiritual memories. I have seen some amazing things, sat

under some reknowned men and women, been an

eyewitness to powerful moments where God showed up to

heal bodies and souls, and participated in seeing hundreds of

people come into the kingdom of God. The spiritual

mountaintop is indeed a wonderful place.

We call such experiences a mountaintop because of the story

of Moses in Exodus. After he led the children of Israel out of

Egypt he went up into the mountain range of Sinai to meet

with God. It is in this encounter when God gave Moses the

Ten Commandments, the foundation for the Law of Moses.

He met God “face to face” and talked “with God as one

speaks with a friend.” The face of Moses would glow from

the glory of God to the extent that the people were afraid of

Moses, asking him to cover his face. The general impression

was that God’s glory might strike them down it was so

powerful. [n. Ex 30??]

This story of Moses is consistently cited by the great spiritual

writers to convey many of the truths we discuss in the

spiritual journey, in contemplative prayer, and in having an

encounter with God. The spiritual mountaintop experience is

a wonderful one...yet it has some very real dangers we must

try to avoid.

Spiritual Feelings

We call it a spiritual mountaintop mainly because in these

moments we get a sense of God’s closeness that is unusual.

His presence becomes more tangible. Many of us have heard

a pastor or worship leader say, “The presence of the Lord is

very real in this place.” What does that mean? Usually this

statement comes from feeling a sense of presence. It is a

certain emotion. He has promised that He will always be

with us when we gather. Do we have to feel Him to believe

this?

No, but feelings are real and we should not quickly dismiss

them. God created us with emotion and a healthy person will

feel emotions. However, we are all different and we react

differently to emotions and to affections. Feelings can

certainly mislead us, but feelings can also propel us to walk

through fear or danger, or help us to simply do what we

know is right.

Most of us like feeling the sense that God is near, however

there is a danger. We can become addicted to spiritual

feelings.

Again I would point the reader to Thirsting for God by Gary

Thomas. He does a good job of discussing this concept in his

chapter “Spiritual Gluttony” and it is not coincidental that

this chapter precedes his presentation of the spiritual desert.

As I shared in the previous chapter, God uses the desert to

strip away our addiction to spiritual feelings.

This spiritual journey we are on is filled with mystery and

paradox. Our spiritual feelings are genuine. God created us

to have these feelings, yet does not want us addicted to

them and He will work to wean us from dependence on

spiritual feelings.

Our spiritual disciplines require our efforts, yet it is an

unending fight as the ascetical cop chases the ego-driven

results. Our disciplines provide the spiritual scaffolding for

building our Christ-centered character, yet spiritual pride

always lurks in the shadows of our hearts to claim that we

somehow earned the results. Our spiritual efforts oftentimes

yield spiritual feelings, yet God knows that if He allowed us

to be addicted to these feelings we might fail to follow Him

during extremely difficult times when our feelings might

betray us.

I have come to consistently remind those I share with that

our spiritual lives and spiritual growth should not be

measured in months or even in years, but in decades. I

realize this is impossible for the younger crowd, but I want

them to grasp this reality. I was in my third decade before

this became clear to me. So I endured the ascetical cop

constantly chasing me down and beating me with my (I mean

his night stick). I constantly struggled with the alternating

feelings of spiritual pride because of the grace I was

attaining AND the feelings of shame because of my failures.

In our little church I remind my brothers and sisters that we

need to refrain from judging each other by our best days or

our worst days. We all live 90% of our lives in the middle

ground of “average.” We hope the other 10% is more

spiritual success than failure, but most of us highlight the

negative 5% in others without seeing the 90% that is not

negative.

Some of us fail to see our own negative 5% and some of us

focus on it. NONE of this is a reflection of God’s grace. This is

why it takes decades to measure growth and many of us

struggle to accurately accept God’s graciousness even after

decades. All of these assessments get muddled by our

feelings. This is why we all need other brothers and sisters

who will speak His grace into our lives to help us get our eyes

off of our ego-centered thinking.

Have you grown spiritually?

If you have been at this for more than a decade, compare

where you are now to your first decade...or to your previous

decade. As I write this I am in the middle of my fourth

decade of following Christ. I can look back with admiration

on some of who I was in my first decade, but other things in

my twenties are embarrassing to me. The same can be said

of my second decade, and the third decade. In my first

decade of faith I had higher highs and lower lows. This is

probably true for most of us. In my fourth decade I still

struggle with various aspects of sin. I am not as gracious as I

should be even though I am lightyears beyond where I was in

my second decade. The point is we cannot judge ourselves

very well.

Living on a Mountaintop

How many of us would like to live on a spiritual

mountaintop? Almost all of us would want to quickly say, “I

do!” Allow me to challenge this concept.

After over 40 years of following Christ, pastoring for over 20

of those years, enduring a fairly lengthy spiritual desert, and

many, many other victories and struggles, I have recently

experienced something quite different. One day I was sitting

alone playing my guitar and singing worship songs. This is not

unusual for me. I like to lead worship every now and then, so

I have to practice. Singing worship songs naturally leads me

to prayer and worship.

As I was playing I suddenly stopped and looked around the

room...thinking to myself, “Something is different.” I spoke

that thought out loud as a prayer. I tend to pray out loud as

if talking to myself when I am alone. “God, something is

different?” As I sat there it hit me. “I feel your presence and

grace in my life more than I have EVER felt it.” My eyes

began to gather tears.

I started thinking of the previous week, the previous month

and started to realize that this feeling, this sense had been

ongoing for several months without me fully knowing it. The

grace of God had been in my life in an unusual way for

almost eight months. As I sat there it hit me: certain sins and

temptations had all but disappeared; I felt His presence more

often; He had been leading me in more clear fashion (or I

was just listening better); and I was not struggling with

discouragement anything like “normal.”

I had stopped playing my guitar and I just sat there for

around twenty minutes praying and thinking (perhaps

intellectual/spiritual contemplation), wondering out loud,

“God, how did this happen? What does it mean? What am I

supposed to do?”

It was the opposite of the terrible desert experience – it was

a closeness I had never felt over such an extended time.

Different from mountaintop highs; not as emotional and not

as high, yet crazy good...without even fully knowing it.

Strange, very strange.

And like the desert experience, I had not realized I was in

such a state for months until suddenly it hit me. I thought of

a few of my close lifetime friends: “Should I tell them about

this? What if telling somebody causes it to go away?”

For a couple of weeks I could not bring myself to share this

with anyone, fearing it would be prideful and that this

special time would be taken away. Some readers will think

this foolish and I do not blame anyone for such thoughts.

This whole experience seemed crazy to me. A few good

friends call me regularly and I felt like a liar for not saying

anything to them about this.

Can I describe the experience? Like the spiritual desert, this

is not an easy task. Rather than a lack of passion and spiritual

feeling, it seemed as if feelings were constant. Obviously, my

“normal” life continued: I did my work as a business

consultant, I had to do the typical menial daily work. I

certainly had many hours of my mind being on some

“secular” task, but any moment when I turned my mind and

attention towards God I was immediately met with a sense

of His close presence. Countless times a thought would jump

into my mind, “You need to call Jimmy.” I would stop

whatever I was doing and make the phone call. Many times

when I acted on a thought like this, the person on the other

end would say something like, “It is amazing that you just

called me. I was asking God to please help me,” or “I had

been thinking that I was going to engage in some negative

activity this evening. Then you called and asked me to meet

with you. It pulled me away from the negative thoughts.”

Many of us have stories like this, but during this time these

moments were just strangely more common. Many of these

were simple, nothing urgent. I would go visit somebody

because the thought crossed my mind and I would find them

in the middle of being discouraged or bothered by something

small. I would visit, laugh, be funny...maybe pray for them

before I left: double their joy or try to cut their sorrow in

half. [n. Mike Rakes]

During my normal time in the scriptures, working on my

weekly message, the text would just open up for me. Typical

sinful struggles had just disappeared. I had not even noticed

this until the moment my eyes were opened to “see” this

special time I was enjoying. People I had reached out to

months prior would just show up at the church asking for

prayer.

None of this was really miraculous – it just seemed like

everything was coming without my effort. Living for God in

this moment was...well, easy. It was strange. I would lay

down to sleep every night and tell God I was overwhelmed

with His goodness to me.

It’s Not About You

Finally I decided to tell a few friends. They wanted me to

describe what was happening and my explanation was FAR

less descriptive than what I have written here. It was not

definitive...not as concrete as they wanted. Almost every

single person I shared this with was keenly interested and

when I was finished with my fairly obscure description they

would ask, “How did this happen? What do you think you did

to make this happen?”

Each of these friends have known me for years. They know

my struggles, past and present. They have seen my public

ministry. They have heard me as a pastor or as a spiritual

speaker. My response to their initial questions was the same

with each friend: “I have no idea. I really do not think it was

anything I did.”

Then follow up questions came:

“Were you praying more? Did you start any new disciplines?”

All of this reminded me of the inquiries I had fielded when I

had shared about my spiritual desert experience. Several of

these friends had asked almost the exact same questions

when I was in my desert experience.

Was I doing certain things? Yes. But spiritual disciplines are a

normal part of my life. I was not doing anything really

different.

A few of these friends insisted that I was being rewarded for

certain things I had done or even for my years of observing

disciplines. While I understand this sentiment, I told each

friend that I disagreed with them. I somehow knew deep

within me that it had not been my efforts. I also told them

that I knew this special time would come to an end. It is just

not possible that this would become my normal spiritual life.

A few of these friends did not like hearing me say this and

gently chided me. They are friends, so I was not offended or

hurt at all by their response.

A month or two after sharing this experience with some

close friends, I was preaching through the Thessalonian

letters and was studying 1 Thessalonians 5 when I came to

this passage:

May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify

you through and through. May your whole

spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the

coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who

calls you is faithful, and he will do it.

1 Thess 5:23-24

I shared this same passage above to help explain the spiritual

desert. I had read these verses 15-20 times over my life, but

this jumped off the page this particular morning. “May God

Himself...sanctify you [completely]...The one who calls you is

faithful, and He will do it.”

I decided to preach a message about sanctification and how

critical it is that we realize God is working in our lives. I

shared openly with the church about this special time I was

experiencing. I then shared with them about the desert

experience I had endured years ago. I told the church that as

much as I was in awe of this special time, I knew it would

come to an end. I used the above verses in 1 Thessalonians 5

as my text.

The desert experience started before I realized it and, from

my understanding, I did not bring it on myself, nor did I do

anything to bring it to an end. This mountaintop experience,

in my opinion, was the same. I did nothing to “earn” the

special time and it would come to an end regardless of what

I might try to do to extend it. And I let the church know that I

cannot really explain it. And I know that I could be wrong in

some way about all of this.

The special time did eventually come to an end, and like the

desert, I did not realize it was over...until it was a fairly small

reflection in the rearview mirror.

Let me remind you: this chapter is about spiritual feelings

and living in mountaintop experiences. The mountaintop is

NOT the normal Christian life.

It is obvious that I have been fairly transparent in my writing,

so I will continue. Over the last several months I have

reflected on this “special time” I experienced. It has become

clear to me that I do not want to have another one of these

extended spiritual mountaintop experiences.

“What? Why would you say this?”

My answer is actually quite simple. The “normal” spiritual

life is NOT easy. Leaving this extended mountaintop made

my normal spiritual life MORE difficult. Elevated spiritual

feelings cause us to despise “normal.” We begin to grow soft

without resistance. We take for granted the blessings of

“normal,” constantly desiring the extraordinary.

Let me be very clear.

I would like to never experience another spiritual desert. Yet

coming out of the desert was...(an overused term) awesome.

I would like to never experience another extended spiritual

mountaintop. Coming out of that has been miserable. It was

as if God had allowed me to be spoiled for almost a year and

is now sending me back to “normal” life which means I have

to “work” at it again. This is a poor way of illustrating the

situation, but let me share the lesson I gained.

I need to be more grateful for my “normal” spiritual life, no

matter how mundane or difficult it may sometimes seem. I

lived in South America for almost a year and have done six

mission trips to some very poor South American areas. I

know how easy my life is compared to what Christians

experience in other parts of the world or in other centuries. I

also know how easy my life has been compared to many

other fine Christians who have endured financial and

emotional hardships I have never faced.

I think spiritual feelings, as wonderful as they are, can work

against us.[n, “Spiritual Gluttony”] We can easily become

addicted to good feelings, leaving us less prepared

emotionally to face hardships. We can become prey to

spiritual pride by thinking we are somehow spiritually more

mature than that brother who is struggling with

discouragement.

We need to grasp that “normal” is where we mostly live.

Normal is not a desert, nor is it a mountaintop. But normal

includes struggle, resistance and sometimes things beyond

our ability to grasp. Normal is also where most of our

Christian brothers and sisters live 90% of the time.

We need to accept, and be grateful for, “normal.”

[Chapter 46 “Cooperating Christians.”]