The G*d-Place

 

Much of the contemplative path for me has consisted of ceasing to imagine G*d.

There is a peculiar downside to this, however, and it becomes evident more and more whenever I see photos and memes which have to do with prayer.

When people post pictures of their prayer nooks, and icons, and lit candles, and mention that they are preparing to participate in some prayer event, it makes me wonder, because those things mean nothing to me. They’re like displays in shop windows; beautiful and attractive, but somehow illusory.

I struggle to talk about my G*d, because my G*d has no image in my mind, or in my understanding. No ‘he’ or ‘she’. No direction like ‘above.’ (Although, a case could be made for ‘sideways.’)

I thought for a long time that I didn’t understand prayer, because, to me, talking and prayer just don’t belong together. I don’t know how to answer folks who ask for my prayers, because I just don’t understand how to pray “for” something.

In the past I have turned the catechism for inspiration, even if sometimes that inspiration takes the form of laughter. It says, “the principal kinds of prayer are adoration, praise, thanksgiving, penitence, oblation, intercession, and petition.” It goes on, in a very businesslike way, to define each one. My hope comes from the little caveat, “principal kinds,” which suggests that there is a hidden or uncommon sort of prayer which isn’t mentioned. My quirky mind suggests, as a joke, that this kind of prayer could be called “unprincipled” prayer. Still, there may be something true in those crossed lines of meaning between “principle” and “principal.” After all, they do sound the same. Maybe that’s the problem. Opening my mouth and daring to speak to G*d puts me in charge of the meaning of everything I say. That seems utterly backwards and wrong-side-out to me. All the meaning belongs only with G*d, and so if I try to put words to my prayer it’s just a big distraction for me, and a lot of noise that spoils my chance of catching the meaning. Or maybe I should write “The Meaning.” I don’t know.

It occurred to me that the problem might lie in the fact that many people imagine G*d as outside themselves. I wonder if they think of G*d as a being with great power and authority who can dispense favor or displeasure at will, like a king on parade throwing pieces of candy or money to the people in the crowd. I cringe at the phrase “G*d is on our side.” I say, “Maybe, but only if there is just one side!”

Proseuchē is the Greek word which is translated as “prayer.” In the Greek it has strong connotations of ‘place.’ A place of worship or communion with G*d. A place a person would go to, or a place where they might be. A place with an interior in which a person can be present.

This is leading somewhere, I promise!

So, I want to talk about prayer as a place— an interior space in which G*d is present.

The thing is, in that space there is room for only One. In that space, a human being can’t be separate from G*d. It’s all One.

The other thing I know (without knowing how I know) is that we’re all in that space all the time. It’s just that we get confused by all the noise we make, and the all the bother in our minds, and all the wishes and hopes and fears that we generate, and that makes us lose our awareness of that Place.

But, no matter how much bother and dither fills our consciousness, the plain fact is that we are always in that Place, because it’s the only place that we can possibly be. It’s the Original Place. It’s a place that has nothing to do with Time or Space, and it’s a real place. (Maybe I should write it as “Real” with a capital R.)

Knowing that we are all always in this place, whether we know it or not, helps me remember how to find it. Finding that Place has nothing to do with my imagination, or my thought processes, or my opinions, or my attitudes. It’s more to do with understanding that my imagination, thought processes, opinions, and attitudes are completely irrelevant in that Place, because they are simply not real, not in the same way as that Place is Real. I even hesitate to say “finding,” because I am always there, in that Place.

Even in the midst of bother-and-dither, I have an awareness of Being-in-that-Place. It’s a reliable awareness, solid and certain; always there in the back of my ‘mind,’ serene and infinite, along with a clear understanding that all beings have their existence in that Place.

In that Place, everything makes sense. There’s no room in that Place for the chattering ‘me.’ No possibility of asking-and-getting. There are no words for “I want;” “I’m scared;” “I’m angry;” “I’m lonely;” or “I’m sad.” There are just no words at all, not even for “I’m happy,” or “I’m thankful.”

It’s hard though, when people ask for my prayers. How do I translate “pray for me, my family, my friends who are in trouble” into this awareness of us all together in that timeless, infinite G*d-Place?

I’m pretty sure that if I try to fit words around the immensity of this awareness, it just won’t work.

In order to pray “for” something, I would have to split my understanding up, into ‘either-or’ and ‘self-and-other.’ I would have to try to imagine G*d squeezed into a tiny, finite space, and force myself to think of G*d as separate from me. I don’t want to do that, and to be honest, I don’t think that I can.

So, to all those folks who ask for my prayers, let me just greet you in the G*d-place, where Love lives.