{"id":17033,"date":"2017-01-09T13:00:50","date_gmt":"2017-01-09T18:00:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/?p=17033"},"modified":"2017-01-08T19:31:59","modified_gmt":"2017-01-09T00:31:59","slug":"reflections-contemplative-active","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/2017\/01\/09\/reflections-contemplative-active\/","title":{"rendered":"Reflections on the &#8216;Contemplative&#8217; and &#8216;Active&#8217;"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>When we turn from prayer in order to attend to the needs of others, St Philip Neri speaks of <i>leaving Christ for Christ<\/i>. What this means, he explains, is that we <i>deprive ourselves of spiritual sweetness in order to gain souls<\/i>. In light of this we might perhaps say that we move from the <i>contemplative<\/i> life to the <i>active<\/i>. But what do \u2018contemplative\u2019 and \u2018active\u2019 <i>mean<\/i>? According to St Thomas, the former is concerned with the divine, the latter with the human. This however doesn\u2019t seem to be precisely what St Philip has in mind. According to him, leaving Christ for Christ isn\u2019t turning from God to man; it is leaving God in order to find God: leaving Him in one way &#8211; the way of spiritual sweetness &#8211; in order to find Him in another &#8211; the way of the love of neighbour. He even denies that, at the deepest level, <i>turning from prayer<\/i> is what is going on: <i>it is not really a quitting of prayer<\/i>, he says, and it is then that he speaks of leaving Christ <i>for <\/i>Christ. He seems, then, to understand prayer as something like <i>presence to Christ<\/i> or &#8211; perhaps better &#8211; <i>Christ\u2019s presence to us<\/i> &#8211; and this is a presence which can take different forms and is not essentially dependent upon making what we might call acts of consciousness directed towards God alone. Perhaps St Augustine is close to what St Philip has in mind, in words which Thomas in fact quotes: <i>In the beginning was the Word<\/i>, St Augustine says: <i>in this behold that which Mary heard. And the Word was made flesh: in this behold that which Martha served<\/i>. In Augustine\u2019s way of thinking, the meaning of prayer &#8211; the givenness of Christ\u2019s presence to us &#8211; is preserved <i>across<\/i> whatever it is that divides the contemplative from the active. The One Christ, the Incarnate Word, is <i>heard<\/i> or <i>served<\/i>, and both are disclosed as kinds of prayer. But which is best?<\/p>\n<p>At this point it is worth remarking on the apparent strangeness of identifying the first kind with <i>spiritual sweetness<\/i>: many of us might not recognize this description of what goes on in trying to direct our consciousness towards God alone, at least not most of the time. Does St Philip mean that we <i>hope<\/i> for such sweetness, that it is in some sense the <i>point<\/i> of what we do, its defining aim, even if rarely obtained? Or does he mean rather that praying like this is <i>itself<\/i> a kind of sweetness, even if the experience is in other ways unsatisfying? If so, what could such sweetness consist in? Perhaps in something like this: that we think that we have at least got <i>into relation to<\/i> God, that He is <i>there<\/i>, <i>before us<\/i> as it were, and <i>we<\/i> before <i>Him<\/i>, even if nothing confirms this experientially: nothing, at least, except a sense of ourselves as <i>doing<\/i> something, <i>directing ourselves towards Him<\/i>, and in that sense <i>being in control<\/i>. Such a sense of ourselves could indeed be a kind of sweetness &#8211; the sweetness of being fundamentally well-positioned &#8211; even if we are otherwise unconsoled. But is prayer meant to consist in a sense <i>of ourselves<\/i>, is our security meant to subsist in thinking ourselves well-positioned and in control? All of this is at the very least ambiguous. It is with the ambiguity in mind that Dom John Chapman, in one of his <i>Spiritual Letters<\/i>, writes that sooner or later <i>our Lord will strip [us] of all spirituality, until [we] not only are sure [we] have no \u2018spiritual life\u2019 but also know that [we] ought not even to wish for it. <\/i>It is only then, he implies, that prayer really begins &#8211; when we realize, as St John of the Cross tells us, that &#8211; as far as what <i>we<\/i> can do is concerned &#8211; there are in fact no <i>ways<\/i> to God.<\/p>\n<p>Here <i>leaving Christ for Christ<\/i> takes on a different perspective. We do not deprive <i>ourselves<\/i> of spiritual sweetness, but are rather deprived by <i>Christ Himself<\/i> &#8211; not, however, so that He may <i>leave<\/i> us, but give Himself more profoundly. For spiritual sweetness has been disclosed as ambiguously implicated in our fundamental self-regard. Could it be that at this point the contemplative will give way to the active, hearing to serving, the self to the other?<\/p>\n<p>St Augustine, as we have seen, connects hearing and serving to Mary and Martha respectively. In Meister Eckhart\u2019s interpretation of these two, the traditional understanding of them is taken up only to be inverted. Christ speaks of the \u2018one thing necessary\u2019 and according to Eckhart what this means is <i>detachment<\/i>, which is, he says, <i>exiting<\/i> <i>entirely from yourself and into God<\/i>. But for Eckhart it is <i>Martha<\/i> the \u2018active\u2019 one who manifests detachment, not Mary the \u2018contemplative\u2019. For Mary still wishes to position <i>herself<\/i> in relation to Christ, He and she exterior to each other, facing each other, and the sweetness of this configuration locks her in &#8211; she the privileged <i>subject<\/i>, He the privileged <i>object<\/i>. Surpassing this, it is Martha, not Mary, into whom Christ has entered <i>interiorly<\/i> &#8211; it is into <i>her<\/i> house that He has come &#8211; and this interiority <i>detaches<\/i> Martha, <i>releasing<\/i> her for the activity of caring for others &#8211; the many things with which she is rightly concerned &#8211; precisely by freeing her from all self-positioning self-regard. For Eckhart, it is not <i>jealousy<\/i> that causes Martha\u2019s appeal to Christ, but benevolence: Martha, Eckhart says, <i>fears that Mary remains stuck in the feeling of well-being and resists being elevated to a higher state<\/i>. Eckhart imagines Martha saying to Christ about Mary that <i>she believes that she can do what she wants as long as she is sitting close to you<\/i>; <i>but let her see if all is well and order her to rise up and leave you.<\/i> Christ\u2019s response to Martha, according to Eckhart, is to be understood not as rebuke but as reassurance. It is true that Mary, as Martha fears, does not <i>yet<\/i> manifest detachment, but she <i>has<\/i> chosen the better part, in other words she has chosen that from which true detachment will surely arise &#8211; the path she is on will not be taken from her. But the transformation will happen only when God &#8211; as Chapman would put it &#8211; <i>strips her of all spirituality, <\/i>freeing her from her subjectivity and God from the objectivity she imposes on Him.<\/p>\n<p><i>Leaving Christ for Christ.<\/i> God, Eckhart implies, is not first and foremost an object for a subject, not even an object for subjects to know and love, but rather He is a life to be lived. To be deprived of spiritual sweetness in order to gain souls is not an unhappy necessity but the very form in which Divine life is revealed and communicated to us.<\/p>\n<p>By Fr Philip Cleevely, Cong. Orat.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>When we turn from prayer in order to attend to the needs of others, St Philip Neri speaks of leaving Christ for Christ. What this means, he explains, is that&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":17028,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true},"categories":[66],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/01\/Martha-and-Mary-e1483921799291.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p8brX6-4qJ","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17033"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17033"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17033\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":17035,"href":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17033\/revisions\/17035"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/17028"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17033"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17033"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/oratory-toronto.org\/map-year\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17033"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}