Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Study Guide: The Cloud of Unknowing, Chapters 41-42

In Chapters 41 and 42, Anonymous urges us to be moderate and balanced in all that we do.

In Chapter 41 he asserts "that in everything except contemplation, moderation is required” (93-94).

In the preceding chapter, Anonymous has asked us not to be overly speculative about the intricacies of life—whether as to why we act badly or why we are drawn to God.  While there is a place for keen intellectual investigation and speculative theology, in the long run it’s best to realize that no one philosopher, theologian, psychiatrist,  teacher, scientist, psychologist, pastor or priest has spoken the last answering word to our questions. As good as critical thinking is, nevertheless it mostly leads to further questions, further ambiguities, further speculation, further arguments, further opportunities for the ego to display its arrogance, sometimes with grand gestures, sometimes subtly, but nearly always with pride, hidden or not. To find relief from chasing the tail of questioning thoughts, Anonymous says that it’s often best to be satisfied with a simple vague awareness. We sin and God is. His advice is simple: fix yourself on two words alternatively: “sin” and “God.” This general understanding is all you need: after all, “if you possessed God, you would be sinless, and if you were sinless, you would have God.” Such is the bottom reality.  Remind yourself of that by muttering two words.


Now in Chapter 41, Anonymous moves on, asking us to use our common sense when living the basic contemplative life. In all that we do we should practice moderation. We are to avoid extremes in eating and drinking, in sleeping, and in protecting our bodies from severe heat and cold. Apply the same advice, Anonymous would say, in matters of money, sex, alcohol, hobbies, reading, traveling, housework, physical labor, or whatever. 

Stay in the middle. And when it comes to contemplative prayer—what many  in our tradition call Centering Prayer, perhaps in the context of lectio divina—we are also to be moderate in the length of time we give to such prayer.  Here the words of William Meninger are a helpful commentary:

I remember as a child being asked how much Jesus loved me. The answer I was taught to give was to stretch my arms out full length (hence in the form of a cross) and say, “This much!” But how much am I  to love God? Jesus answered that one.  He simply repeated the words of his Father as found in the Old Testament. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength” (Dt. 6.5 and Mat. 22.37).  We have been told that virtue stands in the middle,[1] that moderation should be practiced in all things.  In general this is true. In fact the physical and mental health that moderation brings about is even necessary in order to love God as we should—unless at times God allows us to be weak, as Jesus was on the cross, as a special way to lead us on the loving search.

St. Bernard of Clairvaux, the great father of the Cistercian Order, was once asked by a friend what should be the measure of her love for God. His reply was, “The measure of your love of God should be to love God without measure.”
How do we translate this in our lives in terms of the time we spend engaged in the prayer of loving union with God?  I hesitate to put time limits on this prayer.  But we must deal with ourselves with an awareness of our human limitations.

I would suggest as an ideal that you give yourself to the prayer of love twice a day or fifteen to twenty minutes each time. This is an ideal. It is not a requirement.  Indeed for many people it is impossible.  Then I would suggest once a day for fifteen to twenty minutes as  you have the time and opportunity.  If this does not work for you, I would suggest once or twice a week, or even simply whenever you feel the call to apart and express your love for God by gently offering God the symbol of your love in your prayer word.

I would not like to see this as something you must do, but rather as something you want to do. You know how to do it.  You know why you should do it.  Do not let it become just another thing you neglect and then have guilt feeling for that neglect.  Love God with your heart, soul, and strength.  Start over every day![2]

Anonymous also tells us that when we are sick, we should allow ourselves time to heal; and this healing may be helped if we lay aside contemplative prayer for a while.  Realizing how important it is to be healthy in order to love God always and fully, we will, of course, keep ourselves in good health as much as possible. However, when exhausted, feverish, or in pain—whether physically, mentally, or spiritually—we should rest in God’s grace as much possible. That is enough. After all, “your patience  in sickness and in dealing with different kinds of problems pleases God even more than the keenest devotion in times of good health” (94).
         
So don’t go off into the deep end of things. Stay sensibly in the middle of all extremes.  And love God.


[1] Meninger is here referring to Aristotle’conviction that virtues lie in the middle of extreme actions. Thus a truly generous person does not give too little. That is obvious. But for generosity to be a virtue, a person must not give too much. Imagine a parent who gives away so much that his or her children become deprived.  In this case we are not willing to say that genuine generosity, a real virtue, exists.  Instead, the supposed generosity seems like a vice.  Because true generosity occupies the mean between the extremes, we must carefully determine what giving too much or too little means under given circumstances. We cannot determine in advance, or by a rule, just how much too much is.  For Aristotle, only a person of practical wisdom can determine, in particular cases, where the mean lies. 


[2]  The Loving Search for God: Contemplative Prayer and The Cloud of Unknowing, 60-61.

In Chapter 42, Anonymous, while urging us toward a balanced life, allows us to cultivate one excess that will ironically give us genuine balance in all that we do.

By indulging in a contemplative lifestyle--never stopping!--we learn how to avoid all extremes:


An "excess" of contemplation teaches self-control in every other activity. Abandon your soul to this work, persist in it night and day without stopping, and you can't go wrong. But if you don't devote yourself to it, you'll fild yourself making mistake after mistake in every matters. (95)Obsessively setting limits for these or analyzing each move [we] make won't help [us] become [balanced persons].  No matter how hard [we] might try, I don't think [we] can have success this way. Let other people say what they will, but their opinions fade in the light of experience.
By cultivating a "healthy disregard" for the usual routines of life--eating, drinking, sleeping, speaking, and every other outward task--"true moderation is possible" when we "cultivate a beneficial indifference toward these activities." Such disregard does not mean that, on the one hand, we ignore good eating habits, disallow ourselves of sound sleep, take vows of silence, or discontinue beneficial exercise; nor, on the other hand, do we go to excess with exercising, following dangerous dieting, or talking non-stop. 

By living contemplatively we avoid all extremes.  This means that we are careful not to plug ourselves into whatever is the current cultural fad--be it the commercialization of beauty aids, dietary fixes, getting  our abs to look like a six-pack, or whatever body delight and/or form we imagine we must have. As we remember Anonymous' good advice, we also receive his prayer blessing with his last sentence in this chapter:


Now may our good God help you because you need him here.

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