Father Richard teaches that a practice of contemplation carries us into the “Big River” of God’s love, enabling us to release our fears.
Grace and mercy teach us that we are all much larger than the good or bad stories we tell about ourselves or one another. Our small, fear-based stories are usually less than half true, and therefore not really “true” at all. They’re usually based on hurts and unconscious agendas that persuade us to see and judge things in a very selective way. They’re not the whole You, not the Great You. It’s not the great river and therefore not where Life can really happen. No wonder the Spirit is described as “flowing water” and as “a spring inside you” (John 4:10–14) or as a “river of life” (Revelation 22:1–2).
I believe that faith might be precisely that ability to trust the Big River of God’s providential love, which is to trust its visible embodiment (the Christ), the flow (the Holy Spirit), and the source itself (the Creator). This is a divine process that we don’t have to change, coerce, or improve. We just need to allow it and enjoy it. That takes immense confidence in God, especially when we’re hurting. Often, we feel ourselves get panicky and quickly want to make things right. We lose our ability to be present and go up into our heads and start obsessing. At that point we’re not really feeling or experiencing things in our hearts and bodies. We’re oriented toward making things happen, trying to push or even create our own river. Yet the Big River is already flowing through us and each of us is only one small part of it.
Faith does not need to push the river precisely because it is able to trust that there is a river. The river is flowing; we are already in it. This is probably the deepest meaning of “divine providence.” So do not be afraid. We have been proactively given the Spirit by a very proactive God.
Ask yourself regularly, “What am I afraid of? Does it matter? Will it matter in the great scheme of things? Is it worth holding on to?” We have to ask whether it is fear that keeps us from loving. Grace will lead us into such fears and emptiness, and grace alone can fill them, if we are willing to stay in the void. We mustn’t engineer an answer too quickly. We mustn’t get settled too fast. We all want to manufacture an answer to take away our anxiety and settle the dust. To stay in God’s hands, to trust, means that we usually have to let go of our attachments to feelings—which are going to pass away anyway. People of deep faith develop a high tolerance for ambiguity and come to recognize that it is only the small self that needs certitude or perfect order all the time. The true self is perfectly at home in the River of Mystery.
Reference:
Adapted from Richard Rohr, Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer, rev. ed. (Crossroad Publishing, 2003), 142–144.
Image credit and inspiration: Pao Dayag, untitled (detail), 2021, photo, Unsplash. Click here to enlarge image. Like a seedling rising out of the earth, we unfold into the brightness of day, knowing that God is a source of protection and life.
Story from Our Community:
At times when the darkness arrives, I wrestle with it, tolerate it, and try to accept it, but I often forget it is primarily my “teacher and transformer,” as Fr. Richard says. Eventually I get to a point where I begin to see. It’s like entering a dark space. Your eyes need to adjust awhile before you even begin to notice the emerging luminosity, and the confusion and fear begin to dissipate. I have grown to remember: God is totally present in the darkness, opening me to receive God’s peace and love, mostly without immediate understanding. These liminal times have become treasures.
—Jo-Ellen D.
