I have always had a longing for the simplicity of monastic life; a life devoted to prayer and service to God. The simplicity of a life scheduled around prayer, worship, solitude, and service, without much excess. A life of simplicity.
Simplicity: as I was sitting by the lake at the monastery, I heard the sounds of nature around me, yet there was a comforting stillness in this place. I realized I really enjoy this peaceful setting and remembered that I actually have such a place on my back porch that harbors a quiet, natural setting that I really ought to sit and enjoy the peacefulness of my backyard more often than I do currently.
Simplicity: a simple meal - soup and salad - eaten in silence. In this monastery, eating in the silent dining room, dwelling on God as the monastic chants played from the stereo tuning my heart, thoughts and prayers to God. I take for granted the time I have to pray and enjoy a simple meal in my own home. Too often I get on the computer or hurriedly eat standing up, but there is something restful about communing with the Lord as I partake of the daily food and His provision for my life.
Simplicity: the simplicity of saying the name of Jesus over and over again - always returning my thoughts back to the name of Jesus as one of the monks mentioned. In Nouwen's book "Reaching Out," he tells of a pilgrim who learned the Jesus prayer, "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me." Over and over the pilgrim constantly repeats this simple prayer, as a breath, to open the man's heart to Jesus and come to Him as a sinner crying out for mercy and acknowledging His lordship in the man's life. Simple prayers - even in Matthew, which I read during my stay at the monastery, Jesus says "And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans" (Matthew 6:7, NIV). Then he teaches his disciples the Lord's prayer: simple, yet to the point. The simplicity of every moment and thought turning back to Jesus. Simple prayers expressing the deep yearnings of the heart.
Simplicity: singing the chant-like songs with the monks five times a day. They sing through the psalms, read scripture together, pray together, and continue to dedicate their lives and their time to the Lord. There was no harmony and only on occasion an organ accompanying the simple tunes that declared the power of the Lord and praised His name. Sometimes in the simplicity of these monks' songs, the focus turned off the music and turned onto the words being declared in these Psalms, tuning my heart to praise God in simplicity.
Simplicity: sitting in the beautiful courtyard alone, soaking in His presence, listening to the songs of birds and watching the leaves gracefully descend from the trees; distracted by a wandering goose, turning my thoughts back to the Lord again; reveling in the damp and quiet of the place after a light morning shower, nothing but birds' songs and the faint drip of excess water on leaves falling to earth; soaking up the freshness of God's creation. Then sitting on a bench under a tree as a storm rolled in, feeling God's power in the wind. Invigorating. Refreshing. Hearing the wind die down and watching the rains come peacefully as God replenished the earth. I love the simplicity of reading, praying, and listening to God as I see and hear the work of His hands in creation.
Simplicity: the simplicity of having very little. There is really very little on which we humans must live. Two times in my own reading and once in a reading of scripture during the morning service on the third day, came the story of Jesus sending out the disciples. He sends them out carrying very little to nothing, expecting that they will be provided for by people in the towns to which they travel. He knows the Lord will provide for them through the generosity of others or by other means. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus also urges those listening to not worry about food and clothing, but instead to seek the Kingdom of God, for the Lord will provide the rest. I have found God's provision to be so steadfast in my life, yet I hold on to many unnecessary things. As I return from the monastery, I feel the need to cleanse my life of those things in excess and live more simply on what is truly necessary in life.
There is freedom that comes with this kind of monastic simplicity. In this state of simplicity, I feel closer to the Lord. The distractions are fewer and my soul so quiet that I feel I can hear the voice of the Lord more clearly than in the normal every day tasks of life. As I reflect now on this time of peace and solitude, I long for such peace in my life, so I aim to take steps to simplify my life, continue to seek the Lord's will through prayer, and take time to enjoy those times of quiet solitude in order that I may hear His voice.
I will try to live in simplicity. Simple food. Simple clothing. Simple settings. Simple prayers. Listening for the Word of the Lord.
Simplicity: as I was sitting by the lake at the monastery, I heard the sounds of nature around me, yet there was a comforting stillness in this place. I realized I really enjoy this peaceful setting and remembered that I actually have such a place on my back porch that harbors a quiet, natural setting that I really ought to sit and enjoy the peacefulness of my backyard more often than I do currently.
Simplicity: a simple meal - soup and salad - eaten in silence. In this monastery, eating in the silent dining room, dwelling on God as the monastic chants played from the stereo tuning my heart, thoughts and prayers to God. I take for granted the time I have to pray and enjoy a simple meal in my own home. Too often I get on the computer or hurriedly eat standing up, but there is something restful about communing with the Lord as I partake of the daily food and His provision for my life.
Simplicity: the simplicity of saying the name of Jesus over and over again - always returning my thoughts back to the name of Jesus as one of the monks mentioned. In Nouwen's book "Reaching Out," he tells of a pilgrim who learned the Jesus prayer, "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me." Over and over the pilgrim constantly repeats this simple prayer, as a breath, to open the man's heart to Jesus and come to Him as a sinner crying out for mercy and acknowledging His lordship in the man's life. Simple prayers - even in Matthew, which I read during my stay at the monastery, Jesus says "And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans" (Matthew 6:7, NIV). Then he teaches his disciples the Lord's prayer: simple, yet to the point. The simplicity of every moment and thought turning back to Jesus. Simple prayers expressing the deep yearnings of the heart.
Simplicity: singing the chant-like songs with the monks five times a day. They sing through the psalms, read scripture together, pray together, and continue to dedicate their lives and their time to the Lord. There was no harmony and only on occasion an organ accompanying the simple tunes that declared the power of the Lord and praised His name. Sometimes in the simplicity of these monks' songs, the focus turned off the music and turned onto the words being declared in these Psalms, tuning my heart to praise God in simplicity.
Simplicity: sitting in the beautiful courtyard alone, soaking in His presence, listening to the songs of birds and watching the leaves gracefully descend from the trees; distracted by a wandering goose, turning my thoughts back to the Lord again; reveling in the damp and quiet of the place after a light morning shower, nothing but birds' songs and the faint drip of excess water on leaves falling to earth; soaking up the freshness of God's creation. Then sitting on a bench under a tree as a storm rolled in, feeling God's power in the wind. Invigorating. Refreshing. Hearing the wind die down and watching the rains come peacefully as God replenished the earth. I love the simplicity of reading, praying, and listening to God as I see and hear the work of His hands in creation.
Simplicity: the simplicity of having very little. There is really very little on which we humans must live. Two times in my own reading and once in a reading of scripture during the morning service on the third day, came the story of Jesus sending out the disciples. He sends them out carrying very little to nothing, expecting that they will be provided for by people in the towns to which they travel. He knows the Lord will provide for them through the generosity of others or by other means. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus also urges those listening to not worry about food and clothing, but instead to seek the Kingdom of God, for the Lord will provide the rest. I have found God's provision to be so steadfast in my life, yet I hold on to many unnecessary things. As I return from the monastery, I feel the need to cleanse my life of those things in excess and live more simply on what is truly necessary in life.
There is freedom that comes with this kind of monastic simplicity. In this state of simplicity, I feel closer to the Lord. The distractions are fewer and my soul so quiet that I feel I can hear the voice of the Lord more clearly than in the normal every day tasks of life. As I reflect now on this time of peace and solitude, I long for such peace in my life, so I aim to take steps to simplify my life, continue to seek the Lord's will through prayer, and take time to enjoy those times of quiet solitude in order that I may hear His voice.
I will try to live in simplicity. Simple food. Simple clothing. Simple settings. Simple prayers. Listening for the Word of the Lord.
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