Contemplative Prayer
From the earliest centuries of the common era, up to now in the third millennium, the heart of Christian spirituality is the practice of contemplation. The earliest monks read the Bible in a contemplative manner, a practice known as lectio divina (“divine reading”). Some of the earliest known Christian mystics, who abandoned a comfortable life in the Roman Empire to seek God in the deserts of Syria and Egypt, entered into deep silence to pray — a practice written about by spiritual teachers like Evagrius Ponticus, who lived in the fourth century. Today, such prayer of deep silence is known as contemplative prayer. It’s not just a relic from the ancient world: evidence of contemplation as a central Christian spiritual activity can be found in the middle ages (see The Cloud of Unknowing), after the Renaissance (St. John of the Cross) and into the modern and postmodern eras (Thomas Merton).
I find it helpful to understand the language we use to describe something. As for contemplation, it is a word derived from the Latin contemplare. What I find interestesting is that this Latin word literally means “in the temple.” It has a pagan origin, referring to the temples where diviners would conduct their auguries to discern the will of the gods. Once Christianized, contemplation lost its fortune-telling connotation, instead coming to signify the prayerful practice of attending to the presence of God. Obviously, this could easily suggest devotion in a literal temple — in other words, a church — but it also evokes a more spiritual sense of seeking the presence of God in the gathered community of believers, wherever they may be (Matthew 18:20), or even, and perhaps most significantly, in the solitude of one’s own heart (I Corinthians 3:16). Thus, for Christians, contemplative spirituality consists of our efforts to spend time “in the temple” of silence, with God. Contemplative prayer, therefore, involves receptive, listening silence, held gently within ourselves for the purpose of fostering the experience of God’s presence within us — a presence promised to us by scripture (John 14:17).
Contemplative prayer is not a method or technique of prayer. Granted, over the centuries various spiritual teachers have developed methods or techniques for fostering inner silence. But prayer itself can never be reduced to a mere procedure. Contemplative prayer is not so much about mastering silence or achieving a desired state of consciousness, but rather, it is a gentle, unforced opening-up of your mind and heart, a simple gesture of allowing yourself to sit in the uncreated presence of God. In other words, contemplation is not something we achieve, it is something we allow. We allow ourselves to spend time with God just as we allow ourselves to spend time with anyone we deeply love.
To enter into contemplative prayer requires nothing more than a commitment to spend time in silence, offering the time to God. Time spent in contemplation is time spent listening gently for God’s soft whisper. Of course, this is easier said than done! We live in a particularly noisy world — you are most likely reading these words on a computer, meaning that you have access to technology, and therefore to the noise and stress that technology brings into our lives. From machinery to music, from telephones to traffic, from broadcast media to mental chatter: ours is a world filled with frantic noise. As a result, for most of us silence feels foreign and awkward if not anxiety-provoking. Consequently, even the best-intentioned Christian will face many obstacles to contemplative prayer: a busy life, an active mind, a nervous body, all contribute to forces both external and internal that conspire to prevent us from simply sinking into the silence where God’s presence may be discerned as a “still small voice” (I Kings 19:12).
For this reason, contemplation is not something that can be done once or twice. Contemplative prayer, like any other practice designed to foster a living relationship, has to be done frequently and regularly. No marriage will succeed if one or both parties simply stop making an effort to communicate with each other. Likewise, the relationship with God that is sought at the heart of contemplation can only be found within the context of a recurring — ideally, daily — discipline.
When we enter into silence, it is tempting to fill this time with “stuff” — we want to tell God all about our needs, and the needs of others. We want to fill our time given to God with lots of words. But isn’t this like getting together with a friend only to insist that you do all the talking? It’s not very intimate; on the contrary, it’s a way of trying to control the agenda. Thankfully, God is more loving and forgiving than the best of human friends; God patiently waits for the times when we let go of our need to control, and we allow the silence to wash throughout our consciousness like a cleansing wave of crystal water.
Often, we cannot discern God’s presence, for even when we give up trying to control our time of contemplation with verbal prayer, we nevertheless seem to be continually distracted by the static of our thinking minds. But sometimes we do notice the Uncreated Presence within and beyond the silence that rests quietly beneath our mental clutter. Sometimes, time spent in contemplation is rewarded with an experience of resplendent joy and profound experiences of heavenly love. For most people who walk the path of contemplation, these times are rare, and appropriately so. God comes to us to be in relationship, not just to make us feel good. So contemplation ultimately nurtures us at a level far deeper than feelings or conscious experience.
As mentioned above, contemplative spirituality has been a part of the Christian landscape since ancient times. However, in the twentieth century, a new era of contemplative spirituality dawned when many Christians discovered the rich practices of yoga, meditation and zen found within eastern wisdom traditions. Some Christians even began to write about contemplative spirituality using terminology and imagery drawn from eastern sources. Thus, the Benedictine monk John Main wrote about “Christian meditation” while Trappist monks including M. Basil Pennington, Thomas Keating and William A. Meninger borrowed the language of Transcendental Meditation to present contemplative prayer under the name of “Centering prayer” (based on an image from the writing of Thomas Merton). A generation later, it’s ironic that some conservative Christians attack contemplative prayer because of its so-called “eastern influence,” dismissing it as a new age innovation. But such objections are uninformed, not taking into account the long tradition of authentic Christian contemplation that stretches back into the early centuries of the Christian faith. Even though many Christian contemplatives (myself included) believe that Christians can find their faith enhanced and nurtured through learning from other wisdom traditions, the practice of contemplation is so thoroughly Christian that it is appropriate even for those who only feel comfortable engaging in Christian spiritual practices.
To enter into contemplation is to go on an adventure within the wilderness of the mind and spirit — an adventure centered on the quest for Divine Love. If you are new to contemplation and wish to foster a daily discipline of setting aside time to be silent in God’s presence, please seek the support of a wise and caring guide. Speak with your priest or pastor to see if there are resources in your community for individuals who wish to grow deeper in silent communion with God. Organizations like Contemplative Outreach or the Spiritual Directors International can also help beginners to find their way in starting or developing a disciplined life of prayer. Many monasteries and convents offer retreats or have lay communities where contemplative spirituality is practiced. If all else fails, explore the books below to learn more about this rich and vibrant spiritual tradition.
May God bless you on your journey!
For further reading:
- Cynthia Bourgeault, Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening
- Michael Casey, Toward God: The Ancient Wisdom of Western Prayer
- James Finley, Christian Meditation: Experiencing the Presence of God
- Kathryn J. Hermes, Beginning Contemplative Prayer: Out of Chaos, Into Quiet
- Thomas Keating, Contemplative Prayer: Traditional Christian Meditation for Opening to Divine Union (audiobook)
- Willigis Jager, Contemplation: A Christian Path
- Martin Laird, Into the Silent Land: A Guide to the Christian Practice of Contemplation
- John Main, Moment of Christ: The Path of Meditation
- Virginia Manss, ed., The Lay Contemplative
- Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer
- M. Basil Pennington, Centering Prayer: Renewing an Ancient Christian Prayer Form
- Mark E. Thibodeaux, The Armchair Mystic: Easing into Contemplative Prayer




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Hi Carl,
Just wanted to say hello. I’ve read a few of your suggestions on contemplation and they are excellent guides.
In Christ
July 29, 2007 at 10:03 pm
carthusian’s really have the answer, PURE, devoted to, honured by.
in death they understand.
so did jim morrison.
to understand truth is to be as high/wrong/violent/obsessive/sick as possible, maybe it with drugs, meditation, drugs and meditation or just PAIN, real CAN be reached, you just need to empty the heart and fill it with wrong to grip pain, endorse it as a NEED, as it is.
August 5, 2007 at 5:01 pm
I spent some time earlier this year with some Australian Quakers, whose form of worship is this kind of ‘listening silence.’I found it profoundly spiritual, and am learning to include this kind of prayer in my regular time with ‘the Uncreated presence.’
November 19, 2007 at 8:16 pm
A mine of information. I am enjoying this site.
July 16, 2008 at 1:53 pm
I wonder how this differs from Buddhist zazen meditation, if at all?
During meditation I see my thoughts moving about like clouds. Eventually the clouds start to melt away. I probably don’t meditate long enough, just 10-25 minutes twice a day. I’d say the main thing you get from this practice is “wisdom”, and sometimes you acquire empathy too, you can read people better and understand more what they are feeling, and sometimes know what they are going to say before they say it. It’s like you get a little sneak peek at the the “Big Mind” (Zen term), a kind of transcendental wisdom, the mind of God.
To really cultivate balanced compassion, you have to cultivate metta (love) and compassion, such as through a practice like tonglen (which I’m not sure how Christians would feel about it, it involves visualizing a person or persons and their suffering, and breathing in their suffering and feeling it in your heart, and breathing out love and compassion- it is a prayer of sorts, or a meditation, but it doesn’t really involve God).
I think Christian prayer is something similar in a way, in terms of the experience with words and ideas. If we really visualize things though, and not just mouth them, it seems to make a more powerful statement. So I perform Christian prayers alot for people I know are having problems. Alot of people pray for very selfish things, though- what can God give them. I think the Lord’s Prayer is a good prayer for ourselves, because it’s not about asking too much from God.
October 8, 2008 at 8:01 am
I have been practicing mental prayer with the aid of music for years. I have found that in a noisy family life silence is hard to come by, let alone what the neighbors will devise just as soon as I sit down to pray in silence. Earphones are an electronic ‘prayer closet’for me, and I can pray from Scriptures or a prayerbook silently with the music, or let the rhythm of the music set the pace for singing God’s name in my heart. And I don’t get tempted to open the window and shout “Shaddup! I’m trying to pray!” to the neighbors. Wouldn’t that be ironic?
Anyway, the whole subject of contemplative prayer is so subjective, and each writer describes it entirely differently. Yet noone I’ve read has ever mentioned music as a form of silent retreat and a means of focusing on God’s name. I sometimes wonder if I’m missing the boat entirely. I can either muddle along enjoying my musical mental prayer, or pray for silence so I can pray silently? Hmmm. Any comments from meditators and contemplatives?
November 6, 2008 at 8:26 pm
I wouldn’t say you’re missing the boat. Ultimately, the silence we seek is an inner silence, and if music supports you in reaching that place, then good for you. I’m curious as to what kind of music you prefer: quiet instrumental music? Classical? Gregorian chant? Even smooth jazz? I suspect many kinds of music could foster a contemplative experience. I’m not sure if Led Zeppelin or Marilyn Manson would be the best choice, though!
November 6, 2008 at 9:09 pm
I enjoy watching your site.
February 7, 2010 at 11:18 am
I’m just approaching Contemplative Prayer and find it so profound . This site explains so clearly. Yet,my question is: Is there a down-side to this type of prayer that I should be aware of? To avoid?
February 13, 2010 at 8:36 am
Thanks for your question, Bill. Speaking as a Christian, I think the biggest pitfall in contemplation is what has traditionally been labeled “quietism” — basically, the idea that contemplation is so sweet and so fulfilling that we need do nothing else. Taken to its extreme, the quietist would starve to death, since she or he wouldn’t even bother to eat! Thankfully, the survival instinct will prevent that, but what is more likely is the temptation to use contemplation as an escape from the ordinary responsibilities of life and the demands of Christian charity. “I do not need to feed the hungry or clothe the poor; all I have to do is lose myself in God through prayer” — this is the epitome of the quietist error. As a friend of mine put it (tongue in cheek): “I’m too deep to bother with paying my bills.” This is why the Zen tradition says that after we are enlightened we should chop wood and carry water. Likewise, in the Christian tradition, what do you do after experiencing union with God: you go love your neighbor as yourself.
Another variation of quietism is the idea that “since I have tasted the direct experience of God, I no longer need church or community. After all, those people just have an abstract ‘belief’in God, and are so very intolerant of true contemplatives. Why should I hang out with them when they don’t understand or support me in my quest for union with God?” It’s tempting to think that way, but it represents a distortion of Christian teaching with its emphasis on love and community. We learn, in all humility, to love even those who do not understand us, support us, or like us. Contemplation can help us in that quest, but it means we need to remain embedded in the community of faith, even after our “faith” has moved to the realm of direct “experience.”
Hope all this is helpful. May you be continually refreshed by the waters drawn from the well of God’s luminous silence.
February 13, 2010 at 9:01 am
Thanks so much, Carl, for the quietism alert. I needed that. This could happen to me as well as anyone else.
February 13, 2010 at 9:18 am
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