At some point in my teaching career, I realized there are certain basic themes I want to address in almost every different kind of class I teach. One of these themes is the twin ideas of contemplation and action. Too often in the history of the Christian Church, these twin themes are treated as either/or. Either one is a contemplative or one gives life to action. But I think all of us are called to be both contemplatives and active in life if we are to live a fully rich life.
Of course, I am not the only one to think this way. There are many others, but one of my favorite writers on this subject is my fellow Quaker, Parker Palmer. He treats this theme in a rather full fashion in his 1990 book, The Active Life. The book focuses on three sub-themes, which come across in the subtitle: A Spirituality of Work, Creativity and Caring. There are many places in the book where Palmer makes the case for both contemplation and action, but one I choose to share makes the point. “Action will always set up the need for contemplation. But true contemplation is never a mere retreat. Instead, it draws us deeper into right action by getting us more deeply in touch with the gifts that we have to give, with our need to give them, with the people and problems that need us.”
I join Palmer in contending that action always sets us up to need contemplation. In my experience I watch folks who are merely activists for a particular cause run the risk of burn-out if they cannot find a way to be contemplative, too. Activists expend energy for a cause and, therefore, need the contemplative time to refuel. I experienced this the first time in my life during the 60s when so many of us were involved in trying to get the US out of the Vietnam problem.
I also watched friends deeply involved in the Civil Rights movement in the 60s experience the same threat of burn-out. Even though involvement in the cause was clear with purpose, there needed to be a contemplative presence to sustain us through the long journey of peace and justice. And this made me more aware of other points that Palmer makes.
He is correct in noting that contemplation is never merely a retreat. Often we associate being contemplatives means going off for a retreat of some sort. It is a time to “get away from it all,” as the phrase often is articulated. We are mistaken to think a couple days away recharges the spiritual batteries for another month or year or whatever time we will re-engage in our activity. Contemplation does not mean “do nothing.” Contemplation is engaging in its own right.
Palmer speaks to this when he says contemplation will draw us deeper into right action. I appreciate his verb here: draw. There is nothing in contemplation that should be forceful. Contemplatives don’t deal in compulsions, orders or commandments. No one can be forced to be contemplative. It is a choice and deals with our willingness, as Gerald May so often reminds us. To be contemplative is to choose willingly to go deeper into action. Contemplation is not a flight from action or involvement in the world. Contemplation is not escape!
Contemplation draws us deeper into action, Palmer contends, by getting us in more deeply in touch with our gifts. I find this curious and challenging. When I was younger, I began to realize I had gifts. Of course, I don’t think I would have called them “gifts.” I might have used the language of talent or something like that. But I had gifts. Secondly however, I am not sure I was in touch with these gifts. I was not aware and that meant I was not able to actualize the gifts nor appreciate the effect my gifts might have on folks and situations. I needed to become contemplative to get me more deeply in touch.
Palmer then makes two important observations. We have gifts that we can give and we have a need to give them. For example, many people have a gift of caring. And any of us who knows we have the gift of caring also recognize we have a need to care. We know caring is not some abstract idea. Caring is usually a specific, practical being-there-for-someone action. If we can marry the gift of caring with becoming contemplative, that means we sharpen our awareness of the gift and become sensitive to the variety of times and people with whom we may share the gift. We become quite effective.
There are always people and problems which are the objects of the gifts we have and need to share. If we become contemplative, we are always able to exercise this gift and not get depleted or burn out. If we become contemplative, we don’t get into the sharing of our gifts with an ego that needs to be fed. Contemplatives are not ego-driven and contemplatives do not become egomaniacs!
I appreciate Palmer’s help in giving me the rationale and language to articulate an important feature of spiritual life. I understand that all folks on the spiritual journey are called to action and we are to nourish our inner life by becoming contemplative. It is the way to be effective on the journey and to sustain the journey over the long haul.
I am surprised decades after the 60s I am still on the journey. It is a combination of contemplation and action.
Of course, I am not the only one to think this way. There are many others, but one of my favorite writers on this subject is my fellow Quaker, Parker Palmer. He treats this theme in a rather full fashion in his 1990 book, The Active Life. The book focuses on three sub-themes, which come across in the subtitle: A Spirituality of Work, Creativity and Caring. There are many places in the book where Palmer makes the case for both contemplation and action, but one I choose to share makes the point. “Action will always set up the need for contemplation. But true contemplation is never a mere retreat. Instead, it draws us deeper into right action by getting us more deeply in touch with the gifts that we have to give, with our need to give them, with the people and problems that need us.”
I join Palmer in contending that action always sets us up to need contemplation. In my experience I watch folks who are merely activists for a particular cause run the risk of burn-out if they cannot find a way to be contemplative, too. Activists expend energy for a cause and, therefore, need the contemplative time to refuel. I experienced this the first time in my life during the 60s when so many of us were involved in trying to get the US out of the Vietnam problem.
I also watched friends deeply involved in the Civil Rights movement in the 60s experience the same threat of burn-out. Even though involvement in the cause was clear with purpose, there needed to be a contemplative presence to sustain us through the long journey of peace and justice. And this made me more aware of other points that Palmer makes.
He is correct in noting that contemplation is never merely a retreat. Often we associate being contemplatives means going off for a retreat of some sort. It is a time to “get away from it all,” as the phrase often is articulated. We are mistaken to think a couple days away recharges the spiritual batteries for another month or year or whatever time we will re-engage in our activity. Contemplation does not mean “do nothing.” Contemplation is engaging in its own right.
Palmer speaks to this when he says contemplation will draw us deeper into right action. I appreciate his verb here: draw. There is nothing in contemplation that should be forceful. Contemplatives don’t deal in compulsions, orders or commandments. No one can be forced to be contemplative. It is a choice and deals with our willingness, as Gerald May so often reminds us. To be contemplative is to choose willingly to go deeper into action. Contemplation is not a flight from action or involvement in the world. Contemplation is not escape!
Contemplation draws us deeper into action, Palmer contends, by getting us in more deeply in touch with our gifts. I find this curious and challenging. When I was younger, I began to realize I had gifts. Of course, I don’t think I would have called them “gifts.” I might have used the language of talent or something like that. But I had gifts. Secondly however, I am not sure I was in touch with these gifts. I was not aware and that meant I was not able to actualize the gifts nor appreciate the effect my gifts might have on folks and situations. I needed to become contemplative to get me more deeply in touch.
Palmer then makes two important observations. We have gifts that we can give and we have a need to give them. For example, many people have a gift of caring. And any of us who knows we have the gift of caring also recognize we have a need to care. We know caring is not some abstract idea. Caring is usually a specific, practical being-there-for-someone action. If we can marry the gift of caring with becoming contemplative, that means we sharpen our awareness of the gift and become sensitive to the variety of times and people with whom we may share the gift. We become quite effective.
There are always people and problems which are the objects of the gifts we have and need to share. If we become contemplative, we are always able to exercise this gift and not get depleted or burn out. If we become contemplative, we don’t get into the sharing of our gifts with an ego that needs to be fed. Contemplatives are not ego-driven and contemplatives do not become egomaniacs!
I appreciate Palmer’s help in giving me the rationale and language to articulate an important feature of spiritual life. I understand that all folks on the spiritual journey are called to action and we are to nourish our inner life by becoming contemplative. It is the way to be effective on the journey and to sustain the journey over the long haul.
I am surprised decades after the 60s I am still on the journey. It is a combination of contemplation and action.
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