Some books come along at the perfect time. Not only do you need them, but they prepare you for themselves—I almost want to use personal terms to speak about them, because you come to experience the author as a companion. The freshest example for me is Coffeehouse Contemplative, a 2016 Noesis Press book written by Jeffrey A. Nelson.
I had been counseled to work with a spiritual director—the very phrase raises problems for me, but I am on a path, and I am open to new discoveries. I learned about this book, ordered it, went through that delicious time of rising eagerness as I waited for it to arrive, and then began.
I was struck by the simple honesty and poetic sensibility of the Foreword, written by John Dorhauer, a religious leader for whom I have heard high praise.
Chapter 1 begins with an account of the experience of walking the labyrinth, and how that experience can be blocked by overly insistent expectations or intentions; without openness, the experience cannot unfold, and we may give up prematurely. In each chapter, the author’s introductory description of his own experience is well done and draws the reader in to a deeper reality.
If it is badly used, the Bible is an albatross around the neck of Christianity. Well used, it sings. Nelson turns pericopes into poetry—consistently. Free of authoritarian heaviness or pedantic commentary, portions of scripture emerge naturally and graciously, like fish leaping out of the lake in the morning. Coffeehouse Contemplative gave me an entirely new level of appreciation for what scripture is and what it can do. Scripture does not dominate the book or its theology. Well-chosen passages, each containing eternally true and divinely beautiful teaching, help us see God in the world around us. Chapter 2 uses the story of Jesus revealing himself to two followers on the road to Emmaus. This story is used to introduce a broadly inclusive working definition of spirituality as connection of self with a larger reality (for example, God, as revealed in Jesus), a connection that can pervade our entire lives.
When meeting persons for the first time in spiritual direction, Nelson asks about the person’s images of God. He thus begins the gentle and gradual process of helping the person to discover what is nurturing and what may be limiting in these images. He also points to a category of spiritual experience in which images are absent. This is the focus of chapter 3. In this book, the ideas of image and imagination play a large role and accumulate a broad range of meanings. For example, image includes idea, and imagination emerges not as a playful departure from reality but as a method of seeking understanding.
Our ideas of God and self are intimately connected; and the process of growth involves letting go of false narratives about ourselves. Nelson speaks of the false self, constructed for social purposes, and masking the deeper reality of who we truly are. In chapter 4 we see another aspect of the writing that shows up consistently: the author’s ability to share his own unbeautifulness in a way that never shocks or burdens the reader with a guilty confession that is hard to forget.
“If we only speak during prayer, our conversation with God becomes incredibly one-sided.” Chapter 5 introduces us to the theme of listening; and this theme is extended into the practice of using imagination as a way of receptive attunement as we identify with, and come to understand, others. Some ways of contemplative listening rely more on the intellect, some more on the heart, and both are valued. The Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius of Loyola provide the guiding direction in Nelson’s approach to spiritual direction, and Ignatius combines mature spiritual insight with extraordinary psychological sensitivity. Whether we are reading or in a scene of daily life, close attention to perceiving or imagining what we can see, hear, smell, taste, and feel enables us to experience ourselves in the scene more fully and to understand the characters in the scene. After having read and heard the parable of the good Samaritan countless times, how refreshing it is to find an approach that is utterly free of judgmental or moralistic attitude, free of posturing, anger, self-righteousness, and complacency! In that freedom, the reader can identify with—and adopt—the perspective of the character in the parable who reveals divine love.
As we progress, we increasingly see God in everyday places and activities. As chapter 6 illustrates, the veils that obscure our perception of divinity may be suddenly lifted; but more often, we experience gradual growth. There is a lot of work to do, and it takes time. On the Ignatian path, we learn to add self-awareness to our perception of other things and persons. Being aware of our own reactions facilitates the transforming work of the divine spirit within.
For all the glories of spiritual breakthroughs and satisfying progress, there are times when our experience goes flat. We experience dryness or desolation. Some people see God as the distant or punishing cause of such times. Nelson has a wealth of practical advice to give; and as a prelude to Psalm 22 and his reflections on it, he shares Walter Brueggemann’s observations that such psalms “acknowledge the world’s harshness and engage in it as it is rather than under pretense” and “insist that all life experiences, including those of chaos and disorientation, are within the bounds of what people of faith can address with God.” In the conclusion of chapter 7, he encourages the reader to write a psalm giving expression to whatever is difficult in his or her life.
As we go through the hardest times, we are not alone. Chapter 8 is rich in insights into how our entire journey flourishes through participation in the various communities of which we are a part. Set in the context of this chapter, the reader may find the passage emerging into new light as Paul writes in 2 Corinthians about the eyes, hands, and feet of the body all having a place in the whole.
As we grow spiritually, we increasingly find God present everywhere, including in the activities connected with our social relationships and communities. This is the realm in which we may respond to grace by getting involved, not in an antagonistic and partisan way, but seeking to discover how God’s concern embraces all those involved in a dispute or situation of unjustifiable inequality. Chapter 9 concludes that our action, however, is not something that we trumpet in prideful self-display, but in the humility of one who does not seek human recognition and rewards.
When we are immersed in the ocean, all our attention is naturally drawn into that immediate environment. That is the experience that the author compares to being immersed in the all-pervading presence of God. Chapter 10 portrays wisdom as beginning in awe and reverence for the loving Creator. The entire book has disclosed how spiritual direction promotes awareness of God’s presence in all of life. Growth even liberates us from excessive devotion to the explicitly spiritual aspects of our life. And the reader is now ready to realize some personal synthesis that culminates this Ignatian introduction to spirituality. For example, one may perceive Jesus’ compassionate love as embracing every one of us and active within each of us, in every situation and in everything we do—outer awareness, self-awareness, and God-consciousness flourishing together.
In an Afterword, Nelson invites us to reconsider past moments in our lives that have significantly blessed or hurt us, leading to growth and new discoveries of God and self. And to look forward and continue our growth. There are very simple instructions to help the reader find a spiritual director and a list of seven books, each described in a paragraph graced by the simplicity, humility, and illumination that is evident throughout Coffeehouse Contemplative.
