The Slow Way: An Invisible Knowing
We become carriers of the invisible—the essential—by first making space in our lives to pay attention to it, to seek it, prioritize it.
The heavens are telling the glory of God,
and the firmament declares His handiwork.
Day to day pours forth speech,
and night to night displays knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words;
their voice is not heard;
yet their voice goes out through all the earth,
and their words to the end of the world. (Psalm 19:1-4)
In his book Things Hidden, Richard Rohr explains how often the essential things can only be known “by a different path than cerebral knowing.” This is a kind of knowing we can only explain holistically. We know with our bodies when our intuition or our discomfort in the presence of a person tells us that something is off—that we’re not safe or that the person isn’t trustworthy. We know with our feelings when we’re in the presence of hospitality of spirit, when we are wanted.
There is a knowing in the presence of the divine that is often impossible to explain. When I was young I was taught to call it “God speaking to me.” But the truth is that even in my most profound spiritual encounters—the time the Holy Spirit hovered close by in my babysitter’s backyard when I was 4, the time I “invited Jesus into my heart” when I was 7, the time as a 13 year old when I believed I was being “called to ministry,” I received impressions, not verbal communication. These experiences were profound enough to have been set in my memories, to have shaped my spirituality going forward. But the words I used to identify those experiences were phrases given to me by my spiritual community. My encounters with God were not experiences in which I received clear communication. I simply knew.
In my work with teenagers, I struggle with this explanation of things. In the spiritual life I find Jesus’s instruction to “seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened,” to be universally true. When we look for spiritual knowing, we begin to run into it everywhere. But it’s nearly impossible to define. In my experience, I’ve known it when I’ve seen it. But I’m also naturally suited for looking—a thinker and feeler. What about those who aren’t naturally built to hunt for meaning?
How do we teach others to seek the spiritual life, to open their eyes to God at work around them? And how do we remind ourselves?
There is a phrase that has seeped into my life with teenagers (both the two I’m raising and the students for whom I’m a spiritual guide). It’s this: The invisible things are often the most important things. The connection between people, the hard work of carrying hope, the presence of love we can offer one another, the often quiet voice of our conviction, and the nearness of God—these are the things that bring life, that give meaning. And sometimes, invisible things are hard to find.
Jesus said if you seek you find. I am believing that more than I ever needed to before. The challenges of relationships, of finding purpose, of navigating the world’s desperate needs—these realities continually point me to the idea that when we seek the invisible things we find more life. And when we ignore the invisible things the world becomes more painful. It’s a cycle: Our failure to pay attention to the invisible things only begets less awareness of the invisible things. This leads to suffering.
And when the invisible things are not present to us, we forget how to love one another and ourselves. We lack purpose. We lack connection. We lack calling.
There is no speech, nor are there words;
their voice is not heard;
yet their voice goes out through all the earth,
and their words to the end of the world
Their voice is everywhere. And their voice is not heard. That is the reality of the spiritual world. I wish this wasn’t true. I wish the heavens were telling the glory of God with loud, clear experiential and individual moments. I wish we didn’t have to seek in order to find.
But this is the way of things. God is being proclaimed at all times in all places. Not with speech, but with the kind of unheard voice that travels to the ends of the world. A knowing.
How do we receive conviction? How do our hearts of stone transform into hearts of flesh? Seek and you will find. How do we learn to forgive our enemy? Seek and you will find. How do we overcome the always persistent challenges of being human beings in relationship with one another? Seek and you will find.
The invisible things are the things that change our lives, that change the world—care for our neighbors, justice, peacemaking. And these are the things that have power to heal our families as well. When we learn to seek the knowing of God we are invited to the hard work of listening to the pain and longings of the people we live in relationship with. We are invited to the invisible work of softening our perspectives so we can engage the experiences of those we love.
And so, here’s what I’m pretty sure the spiritual journey is about: showing up, paying attention, and searching for the movement of the divine. And waiting for those moments of knowing that lead to love.
I’m not sure it’s any more complicated than this. And also, everything in our modern, internet driven existence is distracting us from the invisible, from the knowing. Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote, “The world is charged with the grandeur of God / It will flame out, like shining from shook foil.”
Where is the electrical charge around you? Where is it flaming out? These are the questions to ask ourselves. Are we paying attention to the grandeur, to the electricity? Or are we so caught up in the drudgery of our tasks, in the distraction of our social media streams, in the endless noise of our own brains that we’re missing the invisible electric current of the love of God?
We’re all longing for love and connection, for hope, for genuine peace. And when we prioritize the invisible things, the people we encounter are also invited to pay attention to the invisible things.
We become carriers of the invisible—the essential—by first making space in our lives to pay attention to it, to seek it, prioritize it. We allow the knowing we have always carried to settle into its rightful place.
A Slow Practice
It’s so important to acknowledge when we talking about the work of seeking the things of the divine, that we are already being sought by God. This is a reciprocal work. We are not alone in the invisible things. We are already being met in those places. That’s why I come back to this idea of paying attention, of attending to the world. When we seek the transformative Presence, we find it. That’s because Holy Spirit is already here.
I love the ancient prayers of the Celtic Christian people, not only because they are vibrant and imaginative prayers, but because they are antidotes for the cerebral ways we usually think about faith.
Today will you pray these words with me? This is a prayer that reminds us of the invisible things, of all the ways God is already here. Originally published in the third volume of the Carmina Gadelica, you can find this prayer in Esther de Waal’s book The Celtic Way of Prayer (one of my favorites). This is a prayer I recommend printing out and starting your day with.
First let’s take a deep breath in. And a deep breath out.
Let’s pray:
Bless to me, O God,
Each thing mine eye sees;
Bless to me, O God,
Each sound mine ear hears;
Bless to me, O God,
Each odour that goes to my nostrils;
Bless to me, O God,
Each taste that goes to my lips;
Each note that goes to my song,
Each ray that guides my way,
Each thing I pursue,
Each lure that tempts my will
The Three that seek my heart,
The zeal that seeks my living soul,
The Three that seek my heart.
Pause after this prayer to consider the things your eyes will see today, the sounds you will encounter, the odors and tastes you may experience. What things will you pursue, what guidance will you need, what lures may tempt you away from love?
And after you’ve sat with these things, imagine the Three that seek your heart. Can you pay attention to the Presence of Love surrounding you today?
Take a moment to pray this one more time:
Bless to me, O God,
Each thing mine eye sees;
Bless to me, O God,
Each sound mine ear hears;
Bless to me, O God,
Each odour that goes to my nostrils;
Bless to me, O God,
Each taste that goes to my lips;
Each note that goes to my song,
Each ray that guides my way,
Each thing I pursue,
Each lure that tempts my will
The Three that seek my heart,
The zeal that seeks my living soul,
The Three that seek my heart.
Amen.
A List of Things:
The final episode of The Slow Way Podcast dropped this past week. The podcast has served as an audio version of this weekly letter. Even though I’ll no longer be recording and publishing new episodes, the podcast will continue to exist wherever you listen to podcasts, and there are 101 episodes there! You’ll find 15 to 20 minute long reflections and prayer practices just waiting for you.
I’ve been giving away free audiobook copies of Blessed Are The Rest of Us each week in September! Look for my Instagram post this Monday to enter. I do the drawing on Fridays.
As always, my new book Blessed Are The Rest of Us is available wherever books are sold, but you can find at 40% off the price of other booksellers at BakerBookHouse. Just use the code SLOWWAY at checkout.
The invisible things are often the most important things. The connection between people, the hard work of carrying hope, the presence of love we can offer one another, the often quiet voice of our conviction, and the nearness of God—these are the things that bring life, that give meaning. ❤️
Just perfect. Thank you.