Present Moment, Sacred Moment:

Present Moment, Sacred Moment:

The Choir Chapel of the Friars in Kilkenny where we first learned to practice Meditation.

We were "Novices", a word that means new. And we were new, new to all of it, new to community life, new to living as brothers, new to the prayers and to the liturgy. 
Our fingers couldn’t find the right page yet in the breviary. We were still learning the geography of the friary and the gardens; still learning which of the brothers did what, and how to speak to them about it. 

We were new to the robe and new to the sandals, all clumsy thumbs and cold toes; and every day we joined the professed community for meditation; twice, two periods of half an hour before Lauds (morning prayer) and Vespers (evening prayer). These are the two periods of stillness that, as we were to learn, are the ancient hinges on which, to this day, swings the door of monastic meditative prayer, the door that slowly opens you to the presence of the One who IS…

But we were novices, new, and so as yet those periods were spent trying to resist distraction, trying not to look at the clock, trying not to fall asleep, or, if one did fall asleep, trying to do so in such a way that the Novice Master wouldn’t notice! Sometimes they were even spent keeping one eye open and scanning the faces of the professed brothers who seemed, effortlessly, to sink into a profound silence and stillness that had a quality of presence and peace to it that we as yet could barely fathom. We soon recognised that amongst the brethren there was one brother whose silence spoke to us novices louder than any of the books on meditation we had been given. He would enter the choir, (the wood panelled private chapel of the friary), with the rest of the brothers, make his genuflection toward the Blessed Sacrament and then he would simply... sit. His body folding into prayer with the ease of a well oiled mechanism seemed so used to these movements from countless repetitions. He sat a little forward, his spine straight, his eyes closed, his hands deftly folded in his lap, his breathing so deep it was barely perceptible. He was alert and relaxed, peaceful and dynamic, still and yet vibrating with energy. His name was Brother Berard; and he was, we novices agreed amongst ourselves, the best at all this... and probably a saint to boot.

The late Brother Berard who taught Meditation and Contemplative practice to us as Novices

So you can imagine our excitement when a few weeks later our Novice Master told us that we would be taking lessons in meditation with Br. Berard. We talked about what we would ask him, mentally got our questions ready, and spent quite a few meditation periods surrepticiously studying him closely. Finally the morning came. We gathered around the table in the novitiate classroom. He came in quietly, said a short prayer invoking the Holy Spirit, Our Lady and St. Francis as was always the custom before a talk and then he sat with us. We were silent. He glanced at us with bright eyes that belied his age, steepled his hands, looked at the ground, and in his slow deep voice asked us what we understood by the word “meditation”. It was as though a dam had burst! Questions, comments, theories tumbled out of us born of our few weeks of frustrated, distracted “practice”. When at last we were done, Brother Berard, who had not moved throughout, regarded us for a moment in silence and gently said, “Sons, meditation is simply closing your eyes and getting out of God’s way.”  We were stunned, we had expected techniques, secrets, teachings…it was to be a few months before we were to realise that in that one single sentence we had received all of that and more besides.

As the weeks went on Brother Berard did teach us deeply; we encountered our minds and their multiple layers, we dwelt in our breath, learned to recognise both distractions and the touches of grace that came in their midst and often despite them, and we were taught not to get attached to either, letting each simply arise, be and depart. We learned the ancient techniques for centering our attention, becoming mindful, stilling the thoughts, and becoming present to the One who IS always present to us in love. We were slowly learning to get out of God’s way… something I am still learning to do to this day. What sounded simple on that winter’s morning in the Novititate seems now to be the work of a lifetime and the discipline that truly allows one to be a real disciple is one that must be embraced daily and even begun again in every moment. 

Now that I find myself teaching others the way of mindfulness, the way of meditative prayer in the Christian tradition, I hear myself quoting Brother Berard often! His words and, above all, the example of his practice still invite me to deepen my own stillness, mindfulness and presence so as to encounter Divine Presence, and it is to his memory, and the memory of countless brothers with whom I have been blessed to share so many moments of meditation and prayer, that I dedicate this blog. 

In the coming days and weeks I hope to share with you some of the basic insights, teachings and techniques of the Christian meditative mindful tradition and invite you to practice these ancient forms of prayer that allow us to get out of God’s way in our own lives… 

Until the next time,

Peace and Joy to you and yours always...

Brother Richard