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The First Sunday of Advent is this Sunday. This is an Advent meditation revised and updated from 2004.
After He had sent them away, He went up the mountain by Himself to pray. When evening came, He was there alone.
*Matthew 14.23, NLV
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Jesus, as the Gospels make clear, often went into Solitude. Likewise, as noted in the footnote at the conclusion of this devotion, the Church, until the end of the Middle Ages, considered contemplation and its Solitude a normal part of the Christian life.
Being alone, however, is terrifying to some persons. And it seems most Christians, like Western culture, avoid Solitude like a plague. I confess that as one vowed to Solitude, I can find myself avoiding it, as well.
When alone, we may search for the company of food, a movie, a television program, or a call by phone. None of these is wrong, but such grasping for stimulation might indicate need to deepen friendship with our own being, our own depths, and the mystery hidden right under our skin.
In fact, practicing Solitude might bring insight into how conformed we easily become to the tyranny of business and busyness, consuming and, thus, being consumed. Solitude might signify how much we want to receive the approval of others. And, possibly, we might be surprised, after trying to be quiet in meditation for a short time, the messages that arise to challenge us, communicating that Solitude is a waste of time. We might sense, after trying meditation, that we have some guilt about not being up-and-about, getting “more important” things done.
Living alone for most of the last ten years, I have become well acquainted with aloneness. Sometimes, I want to escape the aloneness, for it feels painfully lonely. Sometimes, I relish the aloneness, for I sense a satisfying richness to the barren feeling of Solitude.
I do not imply that being off to oneself is the practice of Solitude. The intentional practice of aloneness as a spiritual devotion is Solitude. Otherwise, being alone is just not being with someone else.
I was vowed to Solitude almost fourteen years ago. Such Solitude does not mean having to live by myself, nor does it mean not interacting often with persons. Solitude, rather, implies a befriending relationship with aloneness. This means choosing aloneness to be a means of grace. This choice can be chosen when being alone is not chosen. That is, at times we are alone against our will, but we can see such as opportunity to choose that time to be alone with Spirit.
Solitude implies my communing with the essential individuality that is a part of my human experience. That individuality I carry with me, for it is Self from and in God. While this Self is one with all, the Self is still a precious individual.
Yes, we are each one with all others, but in our relative existences, we are each the “each one” in union with all others. This means that Solitude signifies particularity derived from Universal Spirit. And, the enriching of our experience of Solitude enhances community, even as community enhances Solitude.
Through contemplative practice we enter deeply into aloneness, celebrating particularity in communion, and in this we enter deeply into the aloneness of others, indeed, that of every creature. We discover our aloneness is one with the aloneness of all; we discover the aloneness is the point of unity, but a unity that transcends and encompasses our spatial associations with others. Therefore, as the contemplative path is marked thoroughly by paradoxes, we find that this aloneness is the fount of communion with Eternity.
How can one deeply live as an incarnation of Spirit and from good motive, if one does not penetrate into the depths of the heart of Hearts, within himself or herself, apart from others, and, finally, so as to give more of self to others?
Solitude humbles one and tempers need, even greed, for reliance on others for meaning, purpose, and recognition. She who can embrace Solitude surrounded by others can give most well, for she gives from the True Self, and this Self-in-God partakes in the Sufficiency of All and longs for the good of all. But, how can one stand true among others, when she has not learned to remain in the integrity of her Heart amidst conflicting demands outside her self?
Now, I will quote from one of my favorite Christian mystics of modern times, Abhishiktānanda, in In Spirit and Truth: An Essay on Prayer and Life. Abhishiktānanda, a French monk who served many years in India and died there, after having founded a Christian Ashram, held deeply that the Christian life must be contemplative. (1) Abhishiktānanda, possibly better than I, exposes the theological meaning and significance of Solitude, as when he considers the “solitude of God himself”:
No one ever attains true solitude, so long as he has not discovered the solitude of God himself. Only then, when the self has been left far behind and has completely vanished, he experiences nothing except God alone, the infinite Alone, the One whose solitude none has ever shared, the “One alone without a second” of whom the [Hindu] Chandogya Upanishad speaks (6.2.1). He who has never felt the burning touch of the divine aloneness, —
where before God he is all alone,
where with God he is all alone,
where in God he is all alone,
where from God he is all alone,
where all alone is He Who Is, —
has never sounded the abyss of his own self or the abyss of God; he does not know the full reality either of agony or of joy.
Yes, paradoxically, it is those who have experienced this aloneness who most truly and completely enter into communion with other creatures. A person alone enters into deep spiritual communion consistently with others and with the world who has penetrated within the self, and beyond the self, as far as the very Source, to the One Who Is, to the eternal birthing of the divine Word … in the bosom of the Father, and in the bosom of the Self the person is in the Isness of GodSelf.
O Spirit, Alone of alone ones, Communion of those in communion, Fellowship of Stillness and Movement, so wed my deepest Self to You in Quiet, that I might take Stillness into the common affairs of life, and so anchored in Solitude, shall not give less of myself, but give You through giving myself, or, better, that You might give of Yourself through me more wholly. And, thus, may it be that the depth I share with You when alone, in Silence, may prove a calming of the haste of others, as well as myself. And, make this Quiet, carried within, untouched by the sounds about, call others to the Silence from Which the Eternal Word ever shines Living Truth, Lasting Love, and Sure Hope. Amen.
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Note: I would not say the Church has to be contemplative. I say it will not and cannot be true to itself without being contemplative. Why? One reason is contemplative pertains to the inward journey that is the complement to the outward journey. And, an over-emphasis on the external, active life is at the root of much communal illness in churches and society. The Church Early-Medieval agreed with the normality and need of the contemplative aspects of Christian life. Also, the Gospel shows us Jesus often going into solitude. Jesus provides a pattern, or archetype, of integrating contemplative and active in OneLife.
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*Charitable contributions would be appreciated to assist Brian in continuing his ministry. For contributions, contact Brian at barukhattah@embarqmail.com .
*Brian's book of spiritual love poetry, An Ache for Union: Oneness with God through Love, can be ordered through major booksellers or the Cokesbury on-line store, cokesbury.com .
*Brian K. Wilcox, a United Methodist Pastor, lives in Southwest Florida. He is a vowed member of Greenbough House of Prayer, a contemplative Christian community in South Georgia. He lives a contemplative life and seeks to inspire others to enjoy a more intimate relationship with Christ. Brian advocates for a spiritually-focused, experiential Christianity and renewal of the Church through addressing the deeper spiritual needs and longings of persons.
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