Over the last thirty years, I've invited all my shamanic
students to include prayer in their lives, regardless of whatever tradition
they follow. Why do I feel this important? When we learn about spiritual
healing, of course we cannot be of service unless we are first spiritually connected,
any more than an electrical appliance can give light or heat unless it is first
plugged in. This necessary component of Spirit cannot be left out, or our
learning becomes merely theoretical or just techniques. Wherever I go in the
world, whatever the audience, whatever the topic, this is largely what I am teaching. But, whether we are healers, or business people, whether we are active, retired,
ill, in transit, we all need prayerful connection with Spirit. Unless we draw water from the deep well, our steps cannot be surely guided, for our lives are not lived only the world that we see, but they are also part of the world that we know from our visions, dreams, and meditations.
Island of the Crystal Keep by Danuta Meyer, from Celtic Book of the Dead. |
We live in an era of spiritual nomadism where, between the
extremes of an over-certain fundamentalism and the often-mysterious mysticism
of established religions, there dwell many people who would regard themselves
as people of spirit, who try to live ethically and responsibly, but who do not
fit within a fixed faith tradition. It is with these people of spirit that I
have most to do: they are the people between, the spiritually marginalized, the
ones whose hearts beat passionately for the state of the world, and who want to
be spiritually and morally responsive to All That Is. They are not counted as part of anything, they
may not be gathered into specific groups, but I witness them every day. They
perceive Spirit in individual ways, under different shapes and by other names, and
they are many. So when people write about our age being ‘post-religious’ they
may not be giving us the whole picture: I would say that we may be
post-denominational, but not that we are without a sense of the sacred, whether
we see that as supreme being, an intelligence, or as a matrix of divinities or spirits.
There is a common impression abroad that prayer
belongs just to professional religious people, but it doesn't - it belongs to
us all, not
just to the religions and faiths to which you may or may not subscribe. It is part of the dialogue which we have with
the universe, and how the unseen life of the universe reveals itself to our
soul. Prayer is as much for you and all those who, through default, alienation
or exclusion, find themselves outside the holy sanctuaries. Prayer arises in us all.
For all who wish to begin a personal spiritual practice that
helps them keep connection with the Sacred Source of Life, and for those who
want to engage with the prayer life of the whole universe in ways that are
natural to them, the first steps into that world of prayer are often clogged
with problematic baggage. If you have
moved out of the faith of your upbringing, or recently vacated a religion that did
not offer you spiritual hospitality or help at the time you most needed
support, you may have the bitterness of the rejected, where anything smacking
of that faith may feel like enemy territory. If the holy images and devotions of
your past evoke fear, guilt or distain in you, then these will probably not be
your best hand-holds for the way forward.
Conversely, if you have never actually accumulated any of
that religious baggage, because you had no such background or upbringing, it
can be just as daunting. You may have no notion of how to get started, or your own
developing sense of the sacred dimension may not feel strong enough to stand on
its own legs yet. The validations that only long experience brings are not yet
in your possession, and you are like a scout over unknown terrain. In which
case, you are in good company, because everyone who starts down the path of
prayer eventually makes their own discoveries, unknowing that we are on the
road with others.
Seabirds Steps, Bay of Skail |
This is beautifully illustrated by Ingmar Bergman’s
1982 film, Fanny and Alexander, where
the eponymous brother and sister are rescued from the wreck of their mother’s
second disastrous marriage by a family friend, the Jewish Uncle Isak. As they
settle down to their first night’s sleep of safety in many months, Isak reads
aloud the story of a youth who is upon a journey: he no longer remembers where
it started, nor is he sure where he is going. The way is hot and unrelieved. In
his exhaustion, he cannot notice the trees, nor can he hear the waters. He
falls in with an old man who, like him is walking the same way. He tells the
youth the pilgrims’ cries, hopes, and dreams condense into a great cloud,
becoming the springs at which travellers can quench their thirst and wash their
burning faces and blistered feet.
The story Isak tells is a parable, similar to the gnostic
story of the Hymn of the Pearl, from
the Acts of Thomas, whereby a royal youth
goes out into the world, becomes forgetful of his priceless inheritance of
spiritual wisdom, and wanders in a sorry state until reminded of it once again
and brought home to his family. The water that potentially irrigates the weary youth
in Isak’s story is blent of the hopes, dreams and cries of other pilgrims who
have been along the same route before him. We do not travel alone, and the
hopes and visions of others make water for us along the way.
The paths to our natural spiritual way lie all around us: when we follow these hints and clues, they open out into a whole landscape. Trusting your own personal communion with nature and spirit can become the basis for the most powerful and transformative experience.
Stained Glass, Lincoln Cathedral |
The received sense of prayer is that is about asking for
things. In every place and time-zone of the world throughout history, people
have prayed. From a place of need, they have turned to what is resourceful;
from a place of smallness and dark uncertainty, they have applied themselves to
what is bigger and brighter than their need, just as in my favourite written
prayer, from the children’s novel The Box
of Delights by the poet-laureate,
John Masefield:
O Greatness, Hear!
O, Brightness, Hark!
Leave us not little,
Nor yet little, nor yet dark!
However, we don’t only ‘pray to,’ but we also ‘pray
from, with and for,’ which resets the parameters of prayer. We can pray from a
place of strength and witness, we may pray with those who hold the same vision,
and we always pray for those times, places and beings undergoing suffering, in
compassionate solidarity. But prayer is not only oral. Through silence, singing,
movement, stillness, meditation, and the mediation of blessing, everyone can
find their own way of welcome.
As one of my teachers, Daan van Kampenhout observes, ‘Prayer
never weakens you.’ It is not pleading,
bargaining, nor black magic. By stepping first into communion with these sacred
sources of love and help that gladden your own heart, by seeking out spiritual connection
before anything else, our prayer goes freely where it needs to go,
unconditionally, unshaped and undefined, to land where it most needs to be
received. Like a stone that is thrown
into a pool, the ripples of prayer ray out until they reach the sides of the
pool, upon which, they come rippling back.
People have always gone apart to pray, many have gone
out into nature, not to feel holy, but
to address those things that are beyond our ability to manage: to find
inspiration, help, guidance and a sense of being companioned. Prayer is also
wound into our lives and their daily concerns. Long periods of prayer are not
about many words but about what happens in our communion with Spirit, however
we understand that.
Prayer is the loom where we are woven, where we can
reweave what has been broken, where we weave in what matters. Our prayer contributes to the greater weaving
of the universe and nothing can remove us from its inclusion: it is a weaving
that covers all of us. Prayer is the natural heritage of everyone: it belongs
to you, whereby our lives might be a blessing.
Caitlín at the Spring, Hawkwood College, Stroud |
I invite you to join me in the late spring as we
explore prayer as a movement of the soul that goes beyond just words, but is so
much more, where we include the totality of our universe, the ancestors, the
natural world and the deep heart of our natural spirituality, which goes beyond
denominations. All people of spirit are welcome.
29-31 May 2018 THE
ART OF NATURAL PRAYER with Caitlín Matthews & Margot Harrison.
Prayer is the natural heritage of everyone, including
those people of spirit with no fixed or Christian faith. At Woodbrooke Quaker
Study Centre with its beautiful grounds, we will explore prayer through
silence, song, walking in nature, meditation and mediation, and working with
the regenerative sacred source of the universe in the context of your own
vision. By taking responsibility for our
spiritual practice, we become fully human by our service to natural prayer,
enabling us to be a blessing to others. Anyone with hospitality of soul, or who
is seeking doorways to awakening or kindling a personal spiritual practice, is
welcome.
Fees: non-res. £222, full board £295. Held at
Woodbrooke Quaker Study Centre, 1046 Bristol Rd, Birmingham B29 6LJ Phone: 0121
472 5171. You can also book by going to: