Daily Primer — July 27, New York City

For all of us there is a first step, beginning, if you will, in our walk toward contemplation. Many of us make a diligent effort to move forward in our prayer, but for others of us, contemplation comes as a spontaneous experience and persists with very little effort. Wherever we find ourselves on this journey, we had a starting point, a beginning. Most persons who are on the way experience a strangeness in their early days on the path. Each day it is the same; we are beginning again. Merton has a strong word for us all. He says that “we will never be anything else but beginners, all our life.” So if we feel rather odd in our efforts, if it seems that we are getting nowhere and making no progress on our journey, maybe it is because we are beginners and always will be.
The word, beginner, floods my mind with numerous images: the first time to ride a bike, the first day at school, the first solo drive in a car — to name a few. The things that I recall as “beginner experiences” in the spiritual life include: saying “yes” to Christ, offering a prayer in the hearing of others, and speaking of my faith to a friend. Most of us have memories of these firsts. These first acts form a pattern to which we have added new insights and practices.
We are painfully aware of our inexperience and ineptness as a beginner in the practice of faith; yet we realize it is the only way it could be. But in contemplation it bothers us that we can never advance beyond being a beginner. Each day we are beginning again, nothing stored up from the day before, everything is fresh and new. To be a beginner in riding a bike or giving a Christian witness does not attack our self-esteem because we can develop a degree of excellence in riding or sharing our faith. Not so with contemplation. Contemplation does not lend itself to techniques, formal plans, or well-marked paths.
Excellence must not even be a goal for us, so faithfully we begin again each day. There is no way to take charge of our contemplation. If we could master contemplation, it would not be contemplation of the God revealed in Jesus, nor the God of infinite mystery. Any so-called competence in contemplation would be a god of our own creation and a prayer directed by our own efforts. The very idea of maturity or perfection violates the practice of contemplative prayer. True contemplation follows the path of submission and surrender, the way of unknowing and of trust. If we ever become contemplatives, it will be by “beginning again,” each day a different step, each day a surprise and each day an adventure along an unmarked path.
Let us then content ourselves with being beginners in the art of contemplation, for that is truly what we are and what we will be for the rest of our lives. I find an innocent joy in being a beginner. I’m not expected to be perfect. I do not know the way because there is no way. What freedom comes with beginning the practice of silence and stillness with no goals, no agenda, and no expectations! Because I am a beginner I do not know where the first step will lead me. As a beginner, I am curious about what lies ahead, but it remains hidden. I anticipate the marvelous adventure before me, but I neither design it nor control my steps. I enter a world of wonder and enchantment where everything is upside down.
As I start in earnest my contemplation of God, I accept my status as a beginner; I do not know where I am going or how to get there. I am free to begin again and again. I am on a road that leads to its own destination. I am a beginner, always beginning again! Will you join me on this journey? I invite you also to become a beginner on this journey to nowhere.

Florilegium is the Medieval Latin word for bouquet, or more literally flowers (flos, flor-) which are gathered (legere). The word florilegium was used to refer to a compilation of writings, often religious or philosophical. These florilegium are literary flowers—beautiful words/prayers/thoughts I have gathered.  During my sabbatical they will give me something to ponder each day. — PHL.

Lord, grant us solitude in this life where our souls can be shaped in the ‘furnace of transformation.’  Give us courage to seek you in solitude and tenacity in staying with you alone until all distractions fall away and we are met wholly by your grace. Amen.

God bless the house,
From site to stay,
From beam to wall,
From end to end,
From ridge to basement,
From balk to roof-tree,
From found to summit,
Found and summit.