Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer

by Richard Rohr

For the sake of the common good, we all wear a lot of hats. We take the hat off when the role is finished. Do I know who I am apart from my role? Do I take my role too seriously? That becomes the trap. We overidentify with image, with what we think we are, what we would like to be; or with our reputation, with whom others tell us we should be. Both of them are the world of perception. We need to get back to substance and essence. God is there.

But when we have too much “I,” with too much “I have a right to,” then we necessarily move to a life of hatred, because all our rights cannot be maintained, as Americans think. When there’s too much “I need,” we are necessarily led to greed. We become a consumer culture. When there’s too much “I” in comparison to others, we’ll necessarily become envious. If there’s too much “I am better than,” it will lead to a culture of pride. If there’s too much “I know,” it will lead to illusion and ignorance. Isn’t that ironic? Jesus says, “The person who says ‘I know,’ is precisely the blind one” (John 9:41).

What is the “I” in me that is hating? What is the “I” that is offended? What part of me is envious? Who is the “I” that needs more money to be happy? This is the “I” that must be examined and often released for the sake of seeing clearly.

Again Jesus uses the image of a child to teach “beginner’s mind.” A child is one without ego identity to prove, project, or protect. Little children are not protecting identity yet. They know kinesthetically and respond to what is, not what should be or might be.

when we know God, we seem to know and accept our own humanity; when we meet ourselves at profound levels of recognition, we also meet God. We don’t have any real access to who we are except through God, and we don’t have any real access to God except through forgiving and rejoicing in our own humanity.

Life does not care what I like or don’t like. It doesn’t matter a bit. If we stay in the world of preference and choice, we keep ourselves as the reference point. As if it matters what color I like. Who cares what I look good in? Or what movie is pleasing to me? It changes from moment to moment. No wonder people have identity crises. No wonder people have a fragile self-image; they have nothing solid to build on beyond changing opinions and feelings. If formerly we said, “I think, therefore I am,” now it might be “I choose, therefore I am.” That’s not a solid foundation to build on. The real question is “What does this have to say to me?” Those who are totally converted come to every experience and ask not whether or not they liked it, but what does it have to teach them. “What’s the message in this for me? What’s the gift in this for me? How is God in this event? Where is God in this suffering?”

corporate religion gets all tied up with totems and symbols and arguments about who’s right and wrong, instead of holding the tension of life and death — and paying the price within ourselves for that reconciliation.

We believe as Christians that Jesus has given us the ideal eyes by which to see the real nature of reality. He does not lead with his judgments. When we lead with our judgments, we can’t see correctly. When we lead with our fear, we can’t see correctly. That doesn’t mean that at a later time there isn’t an appropriate point for a cautionary response or judgments, but we can’t lead with them. If we lead with the calculating mind, we’ll never get to love. We’ll cut down and close down too quickly.

Then our job is not to be Mother Teresa, our job is not to be St. Francis — it’s to do what is ours to do. That, by the way, was Francis’s word as he lay dying. He said, “I have done what was mine to do; now you must do what is yours to do.” We must find out what part of the mystery it is ours to reflect.

We have neglected the more basic and universal biblical theme of “personal calling” in favor of priestly and religious vocations. The most courageous thing we will ever do is to bear humbly the mystery of our own reality. That is everybody’s greatest cross.

We have switched from a language of responsibility to a language of rights, which only aggrandizes the private self. “I deserve, I have a right to….I have been hurt, I have been offended.” These are huge debts the fragile ego tries to pay to itself. They have to be forgiven, because they can never be paid.

In the great spiritual traditions, the wounds to our ego are our teachers and must be welcomed. They must be paid attention to, not litigated. How can a Christian look at the crucified and not get this essential point?

Negative identity, shallow as it is, comes more easily than dedicated choice. It is frankly much easier to be against than to be for.

Even though the admonition not to fear is the most common one-liner in the Bible, our system never called fear a sin. We rewarded it, as all organizational systems will. When religion becomes an organizational system, it will reward fear because it offers control to those in management.