Lockdown - Brother Richard Hendrick

With thanks to Fr. Michael Surufka OFM: A sharing of my poem Lockdown that took place in the US yesterday... How wonderful that we can share our community even in the midst of the difficulties of this time: The text of the poem follows:



Lockdown

Yes there is fear.
Yes there is isolation.
Yes there is panic buying.
Yes there is sickness.
Yes there is even death.
But,
They say that in Wuhan after so many years of noise
You can hear the birds again.
They say that after just a few weeks of quiet
The sky is no longer thick with fumes
But blue and grey and clear.
They say that in the streets of Assisi
People are singing to each other
across the empty squares,
keeping their windows open
so that those who are alone
may hear the sounds of family around them.
They say that a hotel in the West of Ireland
Is offering free meals and delivery to the housebound.
Today a young woman I know
is busy spreading fliers with her number
through the neighbourhood
So that the elders may have someone to call on.
Today Churches, Synagogues, Mosques and Temples
are preparing to welcome
and shelter the homeless, the sick, the weary
All over the world people are slowing down and reflecting
All over the world people are looking at their neighbours in a new way
All over the world people are waking up to a new reality
To how big we really are.
To how little control we really have.
To what really matters.
To Love.
So we pray and we remember that
Yes there is fear.
But there does not have to be hate.
Yes there is isolation.
But there does not have to be loneliness.
Yes there is panic buying.
But there does not have to be meanness.
Yes there is sickness.
But there does not have to be disease of the soul
Yes there is even death.
But there can always be a rebirth of love.
Wake to the choices you make as to how to live now.
Today, breathe.
Listen, behind the factory noises of your panic
The birds are singing again
The sky is clearing,
Spring is coming,
And we are always encompassed by Love.
Open the windows of your soul
And though you may not be able
to touch across the empty square,
Sing.

March 13th 2020

The Hunter's Moon

The Hunter’s Moon

Seeking the graced sight

of the Hunter’s Moon,

I left the bright lights

of the house behind me,

and, bundling myself

against the cold,

I took the wooded path

to the place

where I could watch her rise,

fierce and cold against

the purple dark sky.

There I blessed her

for blessing me in turn

with such light:

pure and cold and bright,

gilding the sea golden beneath her

as she rose;

my silver sister of the sky above:

the Lady’s lamp,

a guide for all who wander

and wonder in turn.

Finally, when the cold bit

into my already aching bones

too much,

leaving moon to her meditations,

I left for home.

Trudging darkly along

the wooded path

discerning its grey

pebble skinned presence

barely a step or two ahead

I was gifted

with the sudden

awareness of unaloneness

and paused

in the pitch dark

not sure of what old sense

had been alerted, nor why.

Then, carefully kindling

the little lamp I carried

I sudden saw twelve sets of eyes

gaze glowing from off the path

and realized in front of me,

our holy herd of deer.

Down from the rutting hills

they had come silent as the dusk

that surrounded us, perhaps,

to pay their own homage to the lady

high above us all.

Horse high and seeming huge they were,

I heard now their breathing,

their antlers broad between the branches,

utterly still they stood and stared

as we regarded each other,

“Well met by moonlight”, I thought,

as I, awestruck in stillness also

bowed deeply to these

old ones of the woods,

the first Lords and Ladies

of these sainted lands.

Then, stepping back into the dark

I left them to their silent vigil

and made for home,

my heart elated by that moonlit magic

recalling eden’s evenings

when all were one

before Him.  

Later, making tea,

I wondered how often

on our grey and often seeming

daily darkened path

we have, all about us beings

carrying such, and even

greater blessings,

but never notice, shut in

as we are, behind

our curtained glass,

sitting lost before

our flickering screens,

while they,

keep their ancient vigil too,

waiting for us to touch

stillness long enough,

deep enough, to discern their

moonlit presence

and, at last, know ourselves to be,

with them, one

before the One, from whom

the light and dark

and deer arise.

 

Sat Oct 26^th 2018

Ordinary Miracles

Ordinary Miracles.


Today I am so tired
I have no space in me for big.
I must return
to the small ordinary miracles;
to the way the cup and the bowl
laid upon this table,
once earth themselves,
now,
after fire's touch,
are something else
entirely,
and give themselves
freely
with the simple symmetry
of their curved line
to the holding of emptiness
or fullness.
Or I will drink tea,
and follow it's warmth and healing touch
within and without,
and mingle my breath
with its vapour and touch
the journey of its essence
from far away lands
to here, to now, to me.
Or spend time simply remembering
that between the covers
of the books upon my shelves
are held
minds, lives, worlds, stories, wisdom
that will all last longer
than this little body of mine.
Or marvel at the striped stones
upon the shore that tell deep time,
layer by layer and recall
wild days of disaster and dancing
in their still sea vigil,
slowly loosing their grains
and building beaches for
children's hands to make sand castles
with until the next tide sets them
swimming again.
Or just knowing that already
I have seen a seed
become a tree
become a log
become a fire
become dust
and
become soil for seed's planting.
Or watch the sky
and know that the blue is
still behind the clouds
and the stars still shine
even in the day.
Or simply sit
with the slow rhythm of breath
knowing its biology as blessing,
its divine anchoring
as presence and prayer.
Today, I am so tired
I have no space in me for big
questions, queries, feelings,
problems, pains, plans,
whether mine or others,
so I will just sit
with the small ordinary miracles of being;
breathing, watching, touching, tasting
the now,
and in the now knowing
the love from which all that is, is.
I will dwell there, today,
in the wonder of it all,
in the wildness of
the small ordinary miracles
of being.

An old one but after a weekend teaching I'm feeling this one today...
May it bless +

BR

Talk for the World Meeting of Families: The Family & Digital Technology: Making Space for Prayer

The Family and Digital Technology: Making Space for Prayer

Talk for the World Meeting of Families 2018: Brother Richard Hendrick

Some years ago I came across a concept which may serve to illustrate beautifully the changed circumstances our families find themselves in as they strive nowadays to be places of love, meaning, communion, prayer and faith. The concept I refer to is that of the “Transparent Home”.

Let me explain.

I am a child of Ireland of the 1970’s and 80’s…

However, in those far off distant days there were two primary arbitrators between me and the world. They were called Mum and Dad. If they didn’t like the behaviour I was engaged in, or the people I was hanging around with they would appear at the door and I would be told, “Richard! In!” and in I went… mumbling and grumbling along the way, but often somewhat relieved as well. Once in the house they continued to be the guardians of reality.

What do I mean by this?

Well, there was one TV in the Living Room. We gathered as a family to watch it. If something unsuitable appeared it was switched off or we were sent out of the room or up to bed. I always found my Father required a cup of tea just as things were really getting interesting on Dallas. There was no remote control. We were the remote control. There was one phone in the house, it was in the hall and later in the kitchen and if we were on it, it was amazing how often Mum would need to drift through the kitchen asking on her way, who it was we were speaking to? There were a few radios of course scattered around but that was it. Reading was actively encouraged and trips to the library and bookshops were common.

You see, the house was opaque to the world, and so it was, thankfully, a safe refuge from which to slowly venture into it, or to return to when things out there were overwhelming or even dangerous. We were gradually introduced to the outside world via Parents, Teachers, Clergy and Elders at a pace that was slow, allowed for self reflection and began locally before stretching out to the world at large.

Now what about today… 

Today, our homes, and indeed our families are transparent. You can call the young person in from the street but now the street, indeed the whole world comes in too via the ubiquitous smart phone, tablet and laptop. The Young Person exists in an always on, always available network of media that demands the same level of availability from them. It allows no time for reflection and encourages the externalisation of self-esteem, which often invites the young person into the living of a reactive rather than a proactive/reflective life that leads in turn to heightened emotionalism and the need to always be on the crest of a wave, seeking the next high, the next “like”.

It is a way of life that is exhausting, anxiety inducing and doomed to futility as we seek the perfect life that others seem to be having out there somewhere. Not for nothing do all of the great spiritual traditions teach that “comparison is the thief of joy”. In this new model the arbitrators of reality are no longer the adults and elders that bestow a wider, deeper, wisdom based narrative based on love, faith, prayer and communion, but are instead the often anonymous forced of so called social media that as we have seen on both a national and international scale are open to manipulation from market forces and perhaps even more decidedly negative ones too.

So what can we do, we who gather here at the call of our Holy Father and the World Meeting of Families to help young people and families in the midst of these sudden and sometimes dangerous changes?

Well, we first need to admit where we are and be present to reality as it is. We cannot go back, nor would we want to. We are well aware that the bucolic force of nostalgia only serves to isolate us further from the world. God is in the Now and so we must be too. We must praise and promote the positive changes that have occurred! Greater social connectivity and the possibilities for evangelisation and outreach inherent in new forms of media must be strengthened and become a ripe field for the harvest of the Gospel. But skills so as to manage these new ways of being must be taught and I propose that like the Scribes of the Kingdom, who bring forth things both new and old, our own Christian Contemplative Tradition has wonderful tools that can assist the young person and the family in their navigation of this changed world. The practices of Stillness, Silence, Reflection, Meditative forms of prayer that are at the heart of our tradition must be taught and above all lived again in the home and in the heart of the family. 

Thankfully such programmes that teach these practices exist and are part of our Church life today. Groups such as the World Community of Christian Meditation, Contemplative Outreach and the Sanctuary Centre in Dublin all offer courses aimed at introducing these ancient skills in new ways to the people of today. We need to recognise the importance of these practices as life-saving, indeed soul-saving tools that will allow us to negotiate the transparent homes and lives we are all living today so that at our centre we are still enough to hear the quiet breeze of the Spirit inviting us into this world as sons and daughters of the Kingdom, so as to create in the digital desert spaces of today oases of the spirit where the real presence of God may be found by those lost in the often overloading storms of life, both real and virtual today.

To finish I’d like to offer you three simple practices that can revolutionise our way of interacting with each other online:

The first is what has become known as the “3P method”. The three P’s are Pause, Pray and only then Post! They offer us a way of being present online in a reflective rather than reactive way. Something catches us online and we immediately feel we need to comment, to make our opinion known, to teach the other a lesson! All of these responses may simply be our ego igniting and may not be spiritually healthy for us or to those we are responding to. So take the fingers off the keys, pause and breathe; pray for the grace of the Holy Spirit to be present in your words and then see if you need to post. It is amazing how often when one has practiced the first two P’s the need to carry through to Post disappears. The three P’s: Pause, Pray, and only then Post!

The second is all about our use of time and intention. How do you wake up? Most people, and especially most young people will tell you that the first thing they do when they awake is to reach for the phone. Barely awake they are catapaulted into the virtual world and all the bad news present there. They are taken away from the present moment and taken away from the presence of those who are with them, and even from the awareness of the presence of God. So practice 2 is a simple consecration of the first moments of the day to being present to God, to those you live with and to yourself. It is the ancient practice of the Morning Offering made new for today.

Try it! You’ll be amazed at the positive difference it makes to you and to others around you. As one old friar used to say its going from your first thought being, “Good God it’s morning!” to “Good morning God!”

The third practice and the final one I will leave you with today is the practice of the bells! All monastic traditions have used bells to mark the passing of the day and as a call to awareness, mindfulness and attentiveness to the Divine Presence. Well you have a device that summons you with multiple bells throughout the day always with you; your phone! Why not set and hourly, (or more), reminder to take a moment to breathe, pray and become present to the real world around you, to the needs of your brothers and sisters, to the beauty of creation, to God. No one else need know what’s going on… they’ll just think you’re very popular with all the texts you’re getting!

So there we are, three small, gentle practices that have deep roots in our own Contemplative Tradition that can really help us negotiate the opportunities and challenges of new technology and ways of communicating that we enjoy today so that we do not lose ourselves in the process. Our homes and even our monasteries may have transparent walls these days but with the wisdom of the ancient practices we can grow in reflective discernment and begin to truly choose just who and what we want to be transparent to.

Thank you for your attention today!

Storm Fallen Cedar

Storm Fallen Cedar

It was the storm

that took her

at the last;

while we nestled

deeper in our beds,

unsleeping,

but grateful all the same

for the simple joy

of shelter.

In the smallest hours

Heaven opened

overhead

and poured upon us

an onslaught of

wild wind,

with rain so cold

it was almost snow

in its sharpness.

Just before the dawn

it peaked in power,

finally enough,

as it

whipped

like a scourge

against her long aged, grey,

elephantine skin

and, though her sisters

held their vigil nearby,

she gently gave way,

and fell,

prostrate upon the earth

from which she came,

embraced by the sacred soil

of our little

graveyard.

Was she tired

of her long watch upon the hill?

Holding her gaze

over the forest, the family

and now the friars,

for three hundred

of our human years

(Whatever kind of reckoning

Trees make of time

I do not know,

and they do not tell

in our tongue at least.)

So much had passed

beneath her branches

famines, feasts, families

and finally, friars, all played

their part

measuring her time,

each in their own way.

That morning,

emerging into light,

we heard the news

in shock;

the ripple of her passing

echoing

in awe and prayer both,

a sadness felt in brother, bird, and beast

for those still enough to hear.

Today,

I made my pilgrimage

to pay my respects

as she lies in state,

our sacred sister,

eldress of this land.

Finding her broken body

dissolving already,

her ancient green soul

flown.

Her long hidden heartwood

now exposed,

still raw and soft yet,

open to the breeze,

that touched her broken branches

with the sacred sprinkling

of the rain.

So often before

I had blessed her,

and given her my brother’s bow

in passing by,

and so been blessed in turn

by her simple stately

being.

My hands, resting upon her trunk,

felt the difference

today.

No pulse,

no inner warmth,

no great deep

breathing in her

root,

trunk,

branch,

bark.

It brought sadness too,

but also the joy of knowing

that in every death

something withdraws,

is freed,

leaves.

For all that live

sing their own soul song

arising from Divine love,

and in someway,

at the end will

return their essence

as gift borrowed for a while,

until the new creation

allows resurrection seed

to finally fully bloom

in all beings.

I was not the first

to grieve her though,

For all around the tracks

and trails of those she sheltered showed;

the fleet of foot, feathered, furred

they too had felt her passing,

and it seemed had held their funeral rites

ever before us.

And then,

I looked up from my troubled thoughts

and found my gaze held

by a Stag who watched,

wary and wonderful and wild,

from the forest’s edge.

Both of us, in our own way,

guardians of this land.

Both of us mourning

the passing of our eldress,

each in our own way.

Both of us simply there

in the brotherhood of all being.

And I think, in that moment

we were blessed,

and blessed each other too,

in our common grief and trust

that all that live upon this earth will die,

and all that dies will live again in Love.

Then, bowing gently, we withdrew

to forest and to friary each,

aware of other 

and of something

beyond other, 

I, for my part, call grace,

(Whatever kind of reckoning

Deer make of grace

I do not know,

and they do not tell

in our tongue at least.),

grace that had led us both

to be there

at that time, together,

in mourning,

for our storm fallen sister,

the great and ancient being

we simply call

Tree.

Meditation for St. John's Eve

Meditation for St. John's Eve:

Now, as Vespers sings itself to dusk’s silent sitting.
The beacons begin to burn.
Men watching for the moment
of Moon’s waning
in twilight midsummer sky
of a Sun too lazy to truly set,
to kindle flame for the Forerunner;
John.
He whose element is fire.
Both lamps now hanging in cloth of such deep blue
that the world seems enfolded in the mantle of one
who midwifed his birth,
even as she joined her magnificat
to old Elizabeth’s pangs and doubting Zechariah’s silence
beneath the shining stars of desert sky.

Now, as Matins touches midnight of Monks long vigiling
the herbs are gathered.
Women seeking the helpers and the healers
in wood, and dell, and garden bed
where, blessed by dew and moonlight
and the long warmth of Sun’s summer
the Yarrow and the Bracken,
the Fennel and the Rue,
the Rosemary and the Foxglove and
always the Elder and
the great yellow flower of the Forerunner
willingly give up their essence on the night
that marks the first whisper
of the Word’s healing breath,
breathed through the one who is His herald Voice;
John.
Dried, and hung, and laid upon the Lady Altar
to become more than they are
they will bestow divine healing.
Twice gifted and graced by
Summer’s picking
and Autumn’s
Assumption blessing, they
reveal the medicine present always beneath.

Now, as Lauds’ psalms sun skywards
the pots and pans and ancient drums are beaten.
The children sing the old songs and rhymes
long lost to meaning,
as young men and women harelike
leap heedless across the
dying flames together.
Recalling he who leapt with joy,
filled with fire, even in womb’s waters
so near was the One who first kindled flame
and rendered the rivers holy and made the wells
vessels of new birth.

Now, as Mass bell tolls dawn’s daily resurrection
monks and men, and women, and children all
hear the summons of the Sanctifier and His herald
loud upon morning’s breeze
as embers die down, and herbs are hung up.
Beneath the vaulted stone they gather
to join their voices to praise that vastness veiled
in simple bread and wine,
and hear again the word first spoken by
the herald,
the lamp,
the flame,
the leaper,
the prophet,
the angel,
the voice,
the Baptist
whose birth they have
blessed anew
cry across the ages
“Behold the Lamb of God!”

I wrote this last year to illuminate so many of the customs we have lost that wove the wisdom of the wild and the faith together so beautifully. On St. John's Eve, (The Vigil of the Feast of the Birth of St. John the Baptist), the last official day of the solstice bonfires were set burning to commemorate the fire of the Baptist's faith and the facing into the waning of natural light after the longest day. Couples leaping across the fire was an old betrothal custom. This was also the traditional night for gathering the herbs that would be used as medicine for the year to come. Gathered tonight and dried until Assumption Day they would then be blessed in the Monasteries at the first Mass at Our Lady's Altar... The songs and noise making around the boundaries of the hills and the fields was to frighten away evil and stagnancy so as to refresh the fields and prepare for the Harvest... Our faith was and is both holy and holistic and we must return to such deep knowing again... May the Baptist pray for us!

The Paradox of Presence; a Meditation for Midsummer's Eve

The Paradox of Presence;
a Meditation for Midsummer's Eve

 Here I am Lord;
I am a passing shadow
I am a breath on the edge of being
I am a body of dust and ashes
I am a child of earth
I am from nothing
I am only ever almost
I am a ripple in the pool of life
I am a whisper in the silence
I am lost in time
I am unfulfilled yearning
I am a distorted reflection
I am delusion
I am desire
I am for now
And yet,
Here I am Lord;
I am made in your image
I am growing into your likeness
I am an idea in the Divine mind
I am called forth from nothingness
I am an exhalation of love
I am a child of God
I am an eternal soul
I am a word spoken by the Word
I am the temple of the Divine
I am from Being itself
I am called by name
I am held in being by Love
I am interpenetrated by light
I am sustained by pure attention
I am healed by Divine Compassion
I am redeemed by Mercy
I am for eternity
And so, I answer once again
caught in the pain of paradox,
on this point between the
shortest night
and the longest day:
Here I am Lord;
To be light in the shadows
To be your breath of love
To be the place where Being heals being
To be the moment where time touches Eternity
To be the voice who speaks the word into the silence
To be the torch aflame in the darkness
To be the temple of Divine encounter
To be the emptiness without absence
To be the call to compassion
To be the wound that heals
To be the child of heaven and the child of earth
To be in time and dwell in eternity
To live my I am in the I AM
To lose all so as to find all in you.
So,
Here I am Lord;
journeying from nothing to something
journeying from darkness to light
journeying from emptiness to fullness
by
journeying from something to no-thingness
journeying from light to light so bright it blinds and darkens my still too earthly sight
journeying from fullness to emptiness of being...
Here I am Lord;
a pilgrim on this paradox path
lost and found
and lost again
but with faith in the finding always...
and on this night of edges and shadows and barely there darkness
I surrender to the
silence of the Word
and simply say with open hands and
broken heart,
Here
I
am
Lord

On the Edge of Waiting: A Meditation for Christmas Eve, Eve.

On the Edge of Waiting: A Meditation for Christmas Eve, Eve.

Shhh.

Come away a moment,

my friend.

Come away

from the lights,

and the crowds,

and the shops,

and the noise,

and the pressure,

and the worrries,

and the old wounds that

winter us

before our time.

Come and sit with me here.

Rest.

Just for a moment.

Let me share with you once again

what we forget in our festive

frenzy:

He is coming…

Down the long ages of despair

He comes as Hope.

Down the rough road of doubt

He comes as Faith.

Down the broken byways

of the

human heart

He comes as Love.

He is coming…

Sit with me on the edge of waiting…

Sit in sacred stillness…

Breathe the deep breath of

blessing.

You do not have to do anything.

He is coming…

Whether you are ready or not

Aware or not,

Able or not,

Present or not,

Believing or not,

He is coming…

As the sun rises,

as the moon shines,

as the tides turn,

as the stars dance,

He is coming…

So do not worry.

Let the tyranny of

tension

fall from you…

You never needed to carry it.

Let the false face of

righteous readiness to defend,

dissolve.

You never needed to wear it.

How could you ever be ready

for this?

For the first proclamation of the

Kingdom to be heard in a baby’s

cry.

Nothing is asked of you

but

to be here and now

who you are.

Truly.

Fully.

Broken?

Yes.

Weak?

Yes.

Called?

Oh yes.

He is coming…

And He is calling you to come to Him.

As He always does.

As He always will.

So, how will you greet Him,

the One who is coming?

The One who calls you,

to His crib.

(Yes, you.)

Will you prepare a place for Him?

Will you open the cave of your heart to Him?

Will you place Him in the sanctuary of your soul?

Will you lay Him upon the rough straw of your life?

Will you swaddle Him with your silence?

Will you offer Him the gentle warmth of animal breath?

Will you offer Him your love?

Or not.

He is coming…

Do not miss the moment

Of Mystery’s

mangered birth

by succumbing to

Bethlehem busyness.

No.

Become as still as a shepherd watching the flock of slumbering sheep.

Become as still as a sage watching the long dance of the stars.

Become as still as Joseph hearing Angels on the edge of dreams.

Become as still as she who is the stillpoint of love’s longing, filled with light.

Be still and you will know

He is coming…

Always…

In stillness,

on the edge of waiting…

He is coming for you…

He is coming to you…

Always.

He is coming in Love.

Ripening not Ageing: A Contemplative reflection.

Ripe.

What if
instead
of calling it
ageing;
we named it
ripening?
Seeing
in
each passing
stage of life
the
beauty
we ascribe
to
Seed,
Shoot,
Leaf,
Flower,
Fruit.
Never asking
one of them
to be,
or
remain as,
another;
but delighting
in their
present
presence
as a gift
from each
season.
Each perfect
and apt
in their
own
time.
What if
instead of
calling them
wrinkles
we saw in
them
only the
evidence of
experience?
Counting them
the way
children
count the
rings of trees;
delighting
in them
as
signs of
stories
to be told;
wisdom lines
to be
wondered at,
whether born
of tears,
or laughter,
or even,
pain.
What if
we taught
the young
to see
the old
as we,
standing back
in awe,
gaze upon
the ancient
being
of
trees?
Travelling to
simply
see them,
touch them,
to be
in their
canopied company.
Resting our
frantic
minds
in their
deep green
slowness,
while imagining
with awe
all that has
passed
beneath their
crooked branches;
the seasons
they have
seen,
the storms
survived,
and
the myriad lives
they have
sheltered
in their
long growing.
So then,
Go out,
go out
my friend
and let
yourself
ripen
beneath
the sun
and moon,
breathe freely
of your
present season
letting
the regrets
of lost time
fall from
you
and fly
like leaves
upon the
air.
Fear
no longer
Autumn's
harvest
or even the
seeming sleep
of Winter
for,
when ripened,
fruit's
earthward drop
frees seed
and
begets
always,
a new
Spring.

(with thanks to our brother Paul Dressler for the beautiful picture of Br. Teobalda of Italy, one of the noted elders of our Order.)

The practice of Christian Mindfulness: Not Shrinking God but breathing God's Presence in each moment.

Link below to a 20 minute homily I gave recently on the Practice of Christian Mindfulness as part of an ongoing parish mission we Capuchin friars are giving in St. Cronan's Parish, Brackenstown, Co. Dublin.

Do you shrink God to fit your own ideas of Him or do you allow Him to breathe His infinite love through you in each succeeding moment? This is the path of Christian Mindfulness...
Enjoy :)

https://twitter.com/CronanParish/status/702875623396495360

"Breathing into Love": A new course on the practice of Mindfulness in the Christian Tradition

Breathing into Love: The practice of Christian Mindfulness:

“God has given to the earth the breath which feeds it. It is His breath which gives life to all things. And if he were to withhold His breath every thing would be annihilated. His breath vibrates in yours, in your voice. It is the breath of God that you breathe and you are unaware of it.” St. Theophilus of Antioch.

As mindfulness practitioners and teachers we are all familiar with those practices that attempt to teach us to be present, to show up for life, to take a moment by moment approach. We are also aware of the importance of the breath and how our awareness of it plays an important part in this process. Some of us have come to mindfulness to deal with stress, some to improve their relationships, some to deepen a pre-existing meditation practice, some as a way of re-connecting with the deepest part of ourselves or to touch the ancient wisdom of the Sacred Traditions of the world. But for the Christian who seeks the mindful way the present moment is always, above all else, the place of Divine encounter and this encounter is always with the One who is Love. It is love that’s sustains every breath, love that is breathing in us in every moment, love that is holding all things in being, moment to moment, the love that is God. In our tradition the ancient art of monastic attention, known from the desert days of the early church as “Prosekai” sought to bring the practitioner to a mindfulness practice that balanced both attention and intention so as to prepare the whole being body, mind and soul for the journey into meditation and thence into a contemplative way of being that centred the self in a stable spiritual equanimity drawn from the awareness in our very being of the infinite and unconditional divine love from which all that is arises.

(This was the way of the Christian Mystics whose teachings we explore in our other workshops on them in the Sanctuary more of which are scheduled in the coming months. I’ll tell you about them as they arise.)

This art of attentive mindfulness taught by the ancient monastic fathers and mothers was centred on meditative exercises of awareness that sought to bring about a change to a mindful way of life. The practitioner was called to find ways of slowing down so as to become mindful of their breath, of their bodies, of their thoughts, of their actions and their surroundings, and especially of the sacred scriptures and the liturgy. Through those steps in mindfulness they sought to become aware of the Divine in-breathing that is present behind all of these phenomena as they arise. For the Christian Mindfulness Practitioner “breathing into love” is the beginning of the way of pure prayer, a prayer that transforms both our inner self and how we experience reality. In the coming weeks in the Sanctuary Centre in Dublin’s inner city I will be offering a practical and experiential course in these ancient practices beginning with the awareness of the breath and the various ways of praying with it. We will also look at the understanding of the process and goal of meditation in the Christian tradition and the use of the “versiculum”, the prayer word or Christian mantra that allows us to come to stable equanimity and quieten the thoughts. We will then look at the practice of Lectio Divina and its place in the larger process of Meditative prayer and we will encounter the sacred and sacramental character of the present moment and the ways of accessing it as such that have been taught in the Christian tradition.

If you would like to deepen your mindfulness practice and re-connect to the Divine Presence from which the present moment arises in Love, where attention and intention meet and where all of creation reveals it has been breathed into by Love then come along. You may just be surprised…

You can find our more and book your place at www.sanctuary.ie 

The Course details are as follows :

• Starting Wednesday April 6^th 2016
• 7pm - 8.30pm
• 5 week evening course
• Cost: €85.00
• Suitable for beginners and those who wish to deepen their practice
• Introduction to Christian Mindfulness Tradition
• Mix of information, discussion and practice
• Breath practices for stillness and reflection

Further details:

With Brother Richard, this 5 week evening course provides an introduction the tradition of Christian Mindfulness Tradition. This tradition has often been overlooked or not well understood. In the past the practice was mostly confined to contemplative monasteries. This course provides an introduction to the key practices of the tradition and will cover:

• The place of Mindfulness in the Christian Tradition 

• Breath practices for stillness and reflection

• Lectio Divina as a Mindfulness Practice 

• The use of the Versiculum or Christian Mantra

• The Sacrament of the Present Moment 

• Centering Prayer and dealing with the thoughts

• The present as the Place of Divine Encounter 

• The practice of the "Prayer of Calm Abiding"

• The Jesus Prayer

The course is suitable for beginners and for those who wish to deepen their mindfulness practice through uniting it with the Spirituality of the Christian Tradition.
 

“All that God asks of us is that we be faithful to the present moment” Ven. Solanus Casey