Transfiguration Contemplation

Readings for the Transfiguration:
Exodus 34:29-35; Psalm 99; 2 Peter 1:13-21; Luke 9:28-36

Today, the Feast of the Transfiguration, is my favorite feast after Easter and Mary Mag Day.  This is the day when Jesus shines forth in glory, just for a moment, just enough to dazzle and baffle the three with him.  This is the day of contemplation.

Since my retreat last month I've been thinking about contemplation, "contemplative life," and contemplative vocation.  For years when people called me "a contemplative," I'd bristle.  I'd object, I'd refuse.  I think I heard "enclosed."  Behind that I heard "lazy" or "selfish."  I'd say we were contemplatives in action, or mixing traditions, or whatever, but I refused the label "contemplative."

Now, I do have problems with nouns.   To call someone "a contemplative" seems too simple and sweeping, like so many labels.  What do you know about someone when you use a noun like that?  What do you overlook or refuse to see, because it doesn't fit the picture you have of that noun?  I still don't want to say "I'm a contemplative."  I'm a beloved child of God who -

has a contemplative vocation.  There, I said it.  I first entered religious life 17 years ago looking to pray, to know God, to share that with others.  I had no sense of ministry beyond that.  It was, I told people, the first really selfish decision I made in my life.  I did not ask what my family would think, what my friends or my mentors would think.  They thought I was crazy.  I didn't ask what would make me financially secure.  I wanted to know God.

So here I sit.  Sometimes I walk, or cook, or eat, or laugh uproariously.  Sometimes I play the drums or sing.  But I pray, in all of these ways and others.  And my world is ordered by the call to pray.  This is what I do.

Contemplation has been described as a long loving look at the real.  The Transfiguration reminds us that the "real" is not just the empirical, the visible or measurable.  The glory of God that lies at the heart of everything is the real.  In contemplation we catch a glimpse of that glory in the midst of the daily.  The glorious dishes.  The glorious bathroom needing cleaning.  The glorious neighbor and glorious enemy.  All is transfigured, showing its glory.

And then a thought comes through: "What's for dinner?"  "When are they going to call me?"  Whatever.  The glory is there too.  I can't stand to be face to face with it for long, but I know it's there.  When I close my eyes I can feel the light on my eyelids.  I breathe in God.  I breathe out peace.   In my little clay jar I carry the light, and I see your light.  And that's enough.

Success? Failure!

Just after our July newsletter went out, we heard from the latest bank.  They turned us down for a mortgage loan.  We're too new, too small to take a chance on.  They suggested another place that works with churches, but we aren't really a church.  One of our great gifts - the fact that we are outside easy boxes - is a liability when dealing with the financial establishment.

At first I was really sad and discouraged.  Not discouraged about our community or my vocation or about whether God is with us, but discouraged on that human level, the ego level.  I want things to be moving upward and outward!  I want to show you all that we are growing and on to something!  Blah blah blah.  My poor ego was crying.

Then we talked with one of our mentors who reminded us of Jung's great maxim: success for the ego is failure for the Self; failure for the ego is success for the Self.  Sounds sort of like Jesus, who humbled himself to show us the glorious possibilities of humanity.  And it's true: I have grown from occasional successes, I've come to feel more capable or secure and able to be more generous, but my greatest growth has come from the times I've "failed."  When I hit the wall, hit bottom, hit the dead end, that's when compassion and wisdom and trust and faithfulness can grow.  My ego always thinks it's a bad thing, but on a deeper level I know it's an opening.

So we are back to looking for rentals.  We could try to force this, but it doesn't feel right.  We have never been really certain we should be owners anyway.  I am certain that forced solutions are never as creative or fruitful as the ones that come when I let go.

This Sunday we celebrate the feast of the Transfiguration.  Jesus and his companions had a glimpse of glory, but it came with the message of crucifixion and dwelling in the depths.  It was not an easy message to hear, I'm sure, and not an easy message to share.  "You must lose your life to save it."  "I have to go die in order to rise again."  Success for the ego is failure for the Self.

So today I'm sort of grateful we got turned down.  If we had been approved we'd be off searching for something that may not belong to us.  Instead I got the gift of coming back, of knowing that all is well whatever is going on on the surface level.  And I get the gift of being open to greater glory than I can imagine or engineer.  I think I got the better deal.

Blessings on all your endeavors.  May they open you to God in new and unexpected ways!

In case you don't get our newsletter via email, here's July's news.  Enjoy!

http://conta.cc/2eQGiaU