To be fully human is to be recreated in the
image of Christ’s humanity; and that humanity is the perfect human “translation”
of the relationship of the eternal Son to the eternal Father, a relationship of
loving and adoring self-giving, a pouring out of life towards the Other. Thus
the humanity we are growing into in the Spirit, the humanity that we seek to
share with the world as the fruit of Christ’s redeeming work, is a contemplative
humanity.
In an analogous way we can say that we begin to understand contemplation when we see God as the first contemplative, the eternal paradigm of that selfless attention to the Other that brings not death but life to the self. All contemplation of God presupposes God’s own absorbed and joyful knowing of himself and gazing upon himself in the Trinitarian life.
To be contemplative as Christ is contemplative
is to be open to all the fullness that the Father wishes to pour into our
hearts. With our minds made still and ready to receive, with our self-generated
fantasies about God and ourselves reduced to silence, we are at last at the
point where we may begin to grow. And the face we need to show to our world is
the face of a humanity in endless growth towards love, a humanity so delighted
and engaged by the glory of what we look towards that we are prepared to embark
on a journey without end to find our way more deeply into it, into the heart of
the Trinity.
Christian solitude is the way in which we allow
God to challenge and overcome our individualism. In solitude we are led to
recognize the strength and resilience of our selfishness, and the need to let
God dissolve the fantasies with which we protect ourselves. (What an awful
waste it would be to come to a monastery and then spend our lives protecting
ourselves.) In the desert there is no one to impress or persuade; there it is
necessary to confront your own emptiness or be consumed by it. But such
solitude is framed by the common life in which we have begun to learn the basic
habits of selflessness through mutual service, and in which we are enabled to
serve more radically and completely, to be more profoundly in the heart of
common life in Christ’s Body, because our private myths and defensive
strategies have been stripped away by God in silence.
Christ Preaching, 1652, Rembrandt van Rijn, Dutch, etching, .
Excerpts
from Abbot Damian’s recent Sunday Chapter Talk weaving passages from Archbishop Rowan Williams' address to the Synod of Bishops.
Christ Preaching, 1652, Rembrandt van Rijn, Dutch, etching, .