What is the relationship between language and silence? Between words and truth-telling? How can we foster a more truly contemplative relationship with the way we speak to one another? These are the kinds of questions that informed this episode of Encountering Silence, in which Carl, Cassidy and Kevin welcome author and spiritual teacher Marilyn McEntyre for a conversation informed by her mindful writing on topics such as language, peacemaking, and authenticity.
Marilyn McEntyre is an award-winning spiritual writer, speaker, retreat leader, and professor of medical humanities and American literature. She has written and edited over twenty books and has won several teaching awards. McEntyre currently teaches in programs at New College Berkeley, Western Seminary, the Oblate School of Theology, and Westmont College in San Francisco. She lives in Carmichael, California.
With the publication of The New Big Book of Christian Mysticism, I’ve been making the rounds of doing interviews, for podcasts and for print. Here are a few of the recent ones, in case you want to check any of them out…
First up: an interview for Quest Magazine and the Theosophical Society in America, in conversation with noted author Richard Smoley. The full interview was released on Youtube, so you can watch it below, or check out the print version in the Winter 2024 edition of Quest. What’s unusual about this interview is that Smoley criticized the New Big Book for ignoring the esoteric tradition — the Gnostics, Cathars, and other groups like that, that have historically been rejected as heretical by mainstream Christianity. My response was to acknowledge that such “heterodox” groups deserve to be considered mystics, but my book was designed to focus on the kind of mysticism that flourished within the context of “orthodox” monastic and contemplative Christianity. There’s plenty of consciousness-expanding weirdness in folks like Meister Eckhart, John Ruusbroec, and John of the Cross, so that’s who I’ve chosen to focus on. As a movement, Theosophy tends to champion the esoteric traditions of all religions, not just Christianity, so I acknowledged that people with a solid knowledge of Theosophy might find my book a little basic — well, so be it. It made for an interesting and at times spirited conversation about why mysticism has always been on the edge of the institutional church, and how one of the big questions for those who embrace mystical or contemplative teachings is, “Is the institutional church worth fighting for?”
Meanwhile, here are three podcasts, both of which come from speakers more situated in the mainstream Christian world — although who appear to share my concern that institutional Christianity is not always friendly to mysticism. We’ll start with an old favorite: “Spark My Muse” from Lisa Colon Delay. Lisa was the first person to interview me in support of the new book, and here’s a link to the podcast episode:
Kevin Sweeney’s “The Church Needs Therapy” podcast features a number of writers and speakers out of the contemplative tradition: here is Kevin’s and my conversation, both about The New Big Book of Christian Mysticism and about mysticism in general.
Finally, “The Vicar’s Crossing” features two Anglican vicars from Canada who describe themselves as “two regular guys who happen to be priests in the Anglican Church” — their podcast explores “the places where faith intersects with the Public Square,” So naturally, our conversation particularly looked at the social and political dimensions of Christian mysticism. Here’s where you can go for a listen…
Note that I’ve linked these podcasts to Spotify, but you can find them on Apple or Google Podcasts as well.
Hi friends, just wanted to give readers of this blog a look at what your membership in my Patreon program will provide in 2024.
If you’re new to Patreon, it is an ongoing membership/crowdfunding program specifically for writers, musicians, podcasters, artists, game designers and other “content creators.” It’s a way for you to invest a small monthly amount (most people choose between $5 and $20) to support the ongoing work of a specific creative person (or persons). As I say at the bottom of every page on this website, my blog is made possible through the generous people who make this monthly support.
But Patreon is far more than just a way for feeding the starving artists. It’s been designed so that participation in Patreon includes membership rewards, which could include exclusive or early access to new work, special work that is exclusively for members, opportunities to interact with the artists/writers, and so forth. Once a year or so, content creators are encouraged to update their membership rewards programs, so that current and prospective Patreon members know what is included with their membership.
Here is a rundown of my current menu of Patreon membership rewards. If you are already a Patreon member, you’ll have access to the rewards based on your membership tier. If you are not currently a member or would like to change your membership amount, you can sign up by clicking here.
“The Contemplative Study of Mystical Writings” is available to all Patreon members at Tiers II and above.
Overview of the Program
Here are the tiers available to patrons who support Anamchara.com. Note that the membership levels are inclusive of the rewards from all previous tiers, so if you opt for tier II you get the rewards for both tiers I and II; with membership in tier III, you get access to all the materials from tiers I through III.
Tier I: Basic Supporters ($5 or more per month, or $51/year):
Patreon members at this (or any level) have members-only access to 1-2 (sometimes more) exclusive or new writing from me (Carl McColman). This runs the range from meditations, to poetry, to newsletters, to first drafts of future blog posts or book chapters. This is a chance to get a “behind the scenes” look at the life of a contemplative blogger, with the satisfaction of knowing that you are helping to make the blog possible each month.
Tier II: Companions in Silence ($10 or more per month, or $102/year):
I know everyone is weary of Zoom — but it remains a powerful tool for long-distance interaction. Membership at this tier gives you access to bi-weekly Zoom calls with me, that include time for centering prayer, a brief presentation from me on a topic related to contemplation or mysticism, and time for shared reflection and discussion. Come every time, or just when you can. Each session stands alone; all are available to support your spiritual practice. In January we will start with two calls a month, one on a weeknight and one on a weekend day. This program may expand to three or even four calls a month, depending on demand and number of participants. If enough members want to meet weekly, we’ll find a way to make it happen.
Tier III: Contemplative Learners ($20 or more per month, or $204/year):
In 2022 I started The Contemplative Study of Mystical Writings: a series of self-study course materials designed to help you unpack some of the most challenging writings from the mystical and contemplative tradition. Once or twice a month I send out emails with detailed study guides, spiritual exercises, and quotations for reflection from the visionary writings of mystics. These study guides will open up your deep dive into wisdom writing. Remember, the monthly Zoom meetings and exclusive access to new writing is also available at this level; and members at this tier (or higher) get bonus goodies (see below).
Bonus Reward for Tier III: All members at the $20 or higher level get presents! And in 2023 there may be two presents: in the first quarter, current members will receive an autographed copy of one of my books (you’ll get to choose which one); and then when the new book comes out (probably in November, although that is subject to change), current members get an autographed copy of that one as well.
You can join Patreon at any time; your membership begins the day you join, and renews each month (or year) on the anniversary of your joining. Join now and you’ll get immediate access to the current membership rewards. The new rewards will be available in 2023: Tier II meetings will begin in January, and Tier III study materials will begin in February. Tier I benefits are already available on an ongoing basis. Books for Tier III members will be mailed out in the spring, and then as soon as the new one is published.
Contemplative Study Program (Tier III): What Will We Be Reading Together?
Here are seven books that current Patreon members have voted on. I’m not sure how quickly we will get through these books, but figure we’ll get through at least four in 2023. And of course, I plan on creating course materials like this until I retire, so over the next 8-10 years I expect to create 30-40 study guides for both classic and contemporary mystical/contemplative writings. For 2023, we’ll begin with at least four books from this list:
Membership can be cancelled at any time, and if you are unhappy with your membership for any reason, write to me and I can refund you for up to the past 90 days. Please note that you are supporting a writer, and sometimes your rewards may be delayed depending on my overall schedule including deadlines, speaking engagements, etc. On the other hand, current members have access to both current and previous membership rewards, so for example if you opt for the contemplative study program, you’ll have access to an ever-growing library of study materials, for as long as you remain a member.
If you have any questions, please let me know, using the “Contact” form at the bottom of this page. Otherwise, I hope you will prayerfully consider joining the circle of contemplatives and visionaries who partner with me each month to keep this blog running. A deep bow of gratitude!
Earlier today I had the pleasure of being interviewed by Terri Dudenhoeffer of the Georgia Writers’ Association for their “Q&A Sessions with Georgia Authors.” I’ve had the good fortune to have two books honored by the Georgia Author of the Year Awards; Befriending Silence won in the Inspirational/Religious Category in 2015, and Unteachable Lessons was a finalist in 2020. This interview was fun in that it really focused on the experience of being a writer — we talked about authors who inspire me, my own writing process, how I got started as a writer, and advice I have for beginning writers. Hope you enjoy it.
If the idea of God giving us imagination puts you off, then why did evolution, or the universe, give it to us?
It seems to me that, fairly early on in human history, the ability to visualize something other than what is front of us must have had marvelous implications for thriving in the world. The ability to imagine something different is what lies at the root of technology (“wouldn’t it be good if I could create something to ward off that hungry tiger?”). To this day we human beings are inventors, but how could that capacity even exist without the prior capacity to imagine something different than what is in front of our noses?
The ability to imagine carries us further beyond than just the capacity to see our physical environment in new ways. Take dreams, for example. They are a function of the imagination, simply delivered to us while we sleep, and therefore unencumbered by the normal distractions of the waking mind, which is why they are so vivid and “real.”
We know that dreams can have a powerful impact on creativity (for example, it’s common knowledge that Paul McCartney first imagined the melody for “Yesterday” in a dream) — well, so do daydreams (and the waking imagination in any form). Dreaming, or imagining, a lovely little song may not make our lives any better, at least in a material sense — but it does offer us enjoyment and/or meaning. So the imagination is a wellspring for creating meaning in our lives and that relates to creating purpose.
If I imagine a world without racism, I am better able to find the resources within me to begin to do the hard work to dismantle social privilege and help bring an end to racist systems. Ultimately, of course, this takes us to the big questions: about God, about the meaning and purpose of life in toto, about what it means to be human and our ultimate destiny, and so forth. In other words, what difference does it make to imagine that God exists? Does that make God more “real”? Or more possible? Is the imagination actually a type of “spiritual sense” that gives us access to something unavailable to our bodily senses?
Is “finding God in all things” ultimately a function of the imagination? Am I able to “behold God in all” because I can imagine “the Divine Presence is everywhere”? These quotes come from St. Ignatius of Loyola, Julian of Norwich, and St. Benedict, respectively. These three spiritual teachers lived many centuries apart, and yet they all call us into this essential spiritual practice. But I cannot see God the way I see my computer or my keyboard, physically present in front of me. I have to imagine God and that’s what enables me to believe, to behold, to find. Some people are only capable of imagining God if they picture God far away — up in heaven. Others cannot imagine God at all.
Perhaps atheism, ultimately, represents a failure of the imagination. It’s interesting that many atheists are well-educated, often scientifically-minded people. But they have been trained to subjugate the imagination to what is empirically measurable and verifiable. I hope most people, regardless of belief, can find ways to value the imagination, even if only on a purely material level. “Imagination is more important than knowledge” — I don’t think Einstein said this in precisely these words, but it gets to the point of what I’m trying to say.
And it takes me back to the mystics: to the author of The Cloud of Unknowing telling us that God can never be fully “thought” but God can be fully “loved” — so we know God in our hearts more surely than in our minds. And I believe our hearts are the seat of our imagination — at least as much as our minds are. We do know that the second highest concentration of nerve cells, after the brain, are found in the heart. I think what we commonly think of as “hunches” or “intuition” are often the sub-verbal cognition of the heart’s neural center.
So this leads me to wonder, what is the relationship between imagination and intuition? And is there something transpersonal or spiritual about either? This reminds me of the story of Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter composed one of Grateful Dead’s signature songs, “Terrapin Station.” One day during a lightning storm, Hunter wrote the lyrics for the first part of the song in a single sitting, apparently unusual for him. On the same day, Garcia was out for a drive and as he crossed the Richmond-San Rafael bridge, a melody just popped into his head. It was so real, so vivid, that he had to turn around and go straight home and write it down before it escaped him. The two met up the next day, and when Hunter showed Garcia his new lyrics, they fit the melody perfectly. Thus the song was born; in Hunter’s words, the music and words “dovetailed perfectly and Terrapin edged into this dimension.”
If one musician (Paul McCartney) can receive a song in a dream, why not two musicians receive one through a kind of shared intuition? Agnostics will scoff that this is random, a monkeys-at-the-typewriter sort of thing. And maybe it is. But maybe it isn’t. Maybe it’s a hint that there’s something far more marvelous at work in our intuitions — and imagination — than meets the eye.
So what does all this have to do with being a person of faith, or a person of prayer, or a writer, here in the first half of the twenty-first century? Simply this: that my ability to grow as a writer seems to be intimately bound up in my willingness to play with my imagination. This is part of the reason why I love reading fantasy literature, or even reading books like Jeff VanderMeer’s Wonderbook about the composition of fantasy and other non-ordinary fiction. I doubt I’ll be writing fiction anytime soon (although, never say never). But the imagination is just as important for the creation of mystical and contemplative non-fiction as it is for creating visionary fiction.
So how do we cultivate the sacred imagination?
Reading helps, listening to music and seeing art helps, a carefully curated diet of limited TV and movie-watching helps too. Perhaps most important is a daily practice: for me, that means writing every day, in concert with a daily round of silent prayer and meditation. Silence is important, it seems to me, for nourishing the imagination. It gives the mind and heart the space to think, to wonder, to explore possibilities, and to envision. Give the intuition and imagination space to play, and the Spirit will take care of the rest. Of this I am sure.
Speaking to the Shalem Institute a few years back, Richard Rohr told an amusing story about a retreat he gave to the monks of Gethsemani Abbey (where Thomas Merton lived) early in his ministry. Feeling a bit intimidated by leading a retreat where his audience was mostly older than him and represented a lifetime of monastic observance, Rohr peppered his talk with quotes from Merton — but he found that every time he invoked the famous author, the retreatants looked away uncomfortably. Finally he pulled aside one of the brothers and asked if he was making a mistake by quoting Merton so much. The monk replied that Merton was not universally loved in his own monastery, because he told the community they were not true contemplatives, just introverts!
In telling this story, Richard is illustrating how even monks can sometimes misunderstand contemplative spirituality. But I’m invoking this story for a different reason — I’d like to reflect on the perils of “quoting experts” when one writes about spirituality (or, I suppose, any topic).
Spiritual Writing, Telling the Truth, and Quoting Others
Writing non-fiction has its own unique challenges. While poetry and fiction are infinite playgrounds where the only limits are imposed by the writer’s own imagination, non-fiction implies a commitment to telling the truth — at least, the truth as the author most faithfully understands it.
Every now and then there’s a kerfuffle in the literary world when a book that has been passed off as non-fiction is shown to be, at least in part, made-up, a product of the author’s imagination (or duplicity). Forrest Carter’s The Education of Little Tree,James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces and Greg Mortensen’s Three Cups of Tea are just three examples of books in recent years that have been published as “true stories” only later to be challenged as partially or entirely fictional. Indeed, there’s an entire page on Wikipedia devoted just to documenting Fake Memoirs.
But even if one is not writing a memoir, truth and truthfulness still matter in non-fiction. In terms of spiritual writing, this has traditionally meant that authors are expected to support their claims and assertions by appealing to some sort of authority: the Bible, the saints, the mystics or other respected voices in the tradition.
When it comes to writing spiritual non-fiction, there’s a kind of continuum. Writing for academic and scholarly audiences typically relies almost entirely on external authorities — quoting other scholars or voices from the tradition. At the other end of the spectrum is writing that is based entirely on the author’s own (inner) experience. Many mystics (as well as psychics or new age “channelers”) fall into this camp. Take Julian of Norwich, for example: her writing is based entirely on the authority of her own inner experience. Readers are free to judge if what she has to say carries any value or merit, but no one can dispute that Julian herself sincerely believed that her own experience gave her the authority she needed to write.
Many — perhaps most — spiritual writers fall somewhere between these two extremes. I fall into this camp. When I write, I seek to give voice to my own insight, intuition and experience as a contemplative, but always in “conversation” with the wisdom of those who came before me. This is because I believe that spirituality is most robust and healthy when it occurs in some sort of communal context. Even when a person prays and lives largely in solitude, bringing the light of a larger community to one’s spiritual experience is a way of supporting it (like a trellis supports a vine). We can see this dynamic at work even in the visionary writing of Julian, who repeatedly mentions “Holy Mother Church” and her desire to integrate her mystical visions with the teachings she receives from her community of faith.
There are pitfalls we can fall into when quoting “authorities” in our writing. Richard Rohr’s story shows what happens if we rely on quoting from sources that our audience is uncomfortable with. Much academic and scholarly writing, while meticulously researched and extensively footnoted, can be dry as dust — great content, but almost impossible for the average reader to wade through. You can quote the most amazing voices in the tradition, but if your writing is not compelling and interesting, no one’s going to read it.
Quoting Others for the Wrong Reasons
And then there’s another problem that can arise — from the reason why we quote certain authors. The anonymous writer of The Cloud of Unknowinghas something to say about this:
In the past, writers followed the humble practice of not sharing their own opinions unless they supported their ideas with Scripture and with learned quotations from the Church Fathers, but now that practice has degenerated into arrogant erudition and clever grandstanding. You don’t need that, so I won’t do it.
I remember really being blown away by this quote, the first time I read it. As a writer, I had to ask myself: do I write about the wisdom of great mystics and saints in a humble way, because I want to share their insights with others? Or is it more a matter of pride: I am trying to show off how much I know? And then there’s even a third possibility: that writers keep quoting other authorities because they lack confidence in their own authority?
I don’t think I’ve ever tried to be a show-off in my writing (partially because I’m so keenly aware of how much I don’t know, about mysticism and theology and just about everything else!) But if I’m honest, I know I’ve relied on quoting other writers as a way to avoid doing the deep work of recognizing, and then giving voice to, my own inner authority.
So that’s something I’ve tried to be mindful of when I write. I love to write about the mystics, but I also know that most people have access, thanks to the internet, to more information about the mystics then they’ll ever need or want. So I figure the only way my perspective on the mystics (or any other topic) matters is if I weave together the wisdom of these great ancestral voices with my own perspective, however humble it might be.
This leads me to another quotation — the one that really inspired today’s blog post. It comes from a book called The Mystery of Death: Awakening to Eternal Life by Ladislaus Boros, SJ (recently re-published with a new introduction by Cynthia Bourgeault). It’s a slender book that weaves together philosophy and spirituality to reflect on the meaning of death. It’s beautifully written and well worth reading.
In the introduction to the second part of the book, Boros has this to say, referring to philosophers that he will be quoting:
We shall not, however, limit ourselves to a merely descriptive account of their thought. We too shall endeavour to be creative and to progress further along the lines they indicate, taking their basic insights to their final consequences.
Once again, this passage brought me to a moment of reflective wonder. Just as the anonymous author of The Cloud of Unknowing challenges writers not to quote other authors for vain or superficial reason, this author points out that quoting an authority matters most when a writer responds to that quote with creativity and insight.
In other words, don’t quote someone just to prove a point. Quote them as a launchpad for your own creative thinking.
Creation… and Interpretation
The wisdom of the past not only needs to be listened to, and savored; it also needs to be interpreted.
Interpretation is a creative act. We human beings receive an onslaught of external stimuli every day. Most of it we have to ignore, if we are going to respond to the bits that truly deserve our attention. We have to interpret all the data that flows through our senses — deciding, usually in a split second, what matters and what doesn’t. And when we decide that something does matter, we have to make sense of it, figure out what it means and why it is relevant to our lives.
Here’s the tricky part. So much of human language and thought can be interpreted in more than one way.
Consider, for example, a book by the British author Geoffrey Ashe called The Virgin. It is Ashe’s reflection on the meaning of Catholic devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary. As a secular scholar who is interested in pagan spirituality, Ashe interprets devotion to Mary as evidence of vestigial goddess-worship that has crept into Christianity. So to his mind, when Catholics pray to Mary or reverence a statue of her, they are (unconsciously) participating in a type of spiritual practice that in ancient times was focussed on worshiping the Divine Feminine.
Obviously, most conservative Catholics are not going to be happy with Ashe’s interpretation. They take the same data and make an entirely different argument: that all the ancient pagan practices of goddess veneration point to the human need for a sacred mother-figure, and simply prefigure the coming of Mary and the devotional practices that grew up around her. In other words, pagan goddess worship is evidence that it is natural for humans to venerate a feminine mother-figure (never mind what Protestants think) — and that the highest and truest form of such veneration arose in history with the coming of Mary and devotion to her.
The same data, but two entirely different interpretations. Which one rings more true. You be the judge!
We see this at work in our politics as well. Liberals maintain that government needs to take the lead in providing social services to the most vulnerable members of society. Conservatives argue that such programs are too expensive, since they result in higher taxes on both corporations and individuals. Which is better: lower taxes and fewer services, or higher taxes and more programs? Once again, it’s a matter of interpretation.
Interpretation is creative because we have to put ourselves into the interpretive process. We have to “create” meaning by reflecting on the data we have, in the light of our own experience, our values, and our ability to discern. Writing is a creative act: we give birth to thoughts, ideas and perspectives that may be entirely a new (or, at least, represent a new perspective). Ladislaus Boros points out that it’s not enough just to quote external authorities; we have to “meet” those quotations with our own capacity to interpret their meaning, understand what insights arise from them, and then reflect on how these interpretations and insights can be used, under the guidance of the Spirit, to discover new perspectives and new ways of understanding.
If you’re not a writer, bless you for reading this far — since this post is clearly a writer’s reflection on what it means to be a writer. But if you are a writer, or involved in any other kind of creative work, I hope you will reflect on what we can learn from Richard Rohr, Ladislaus Boros, and the author of The Cloud of Unknowing. We need to learn how to access the wisdom in our own hearts. It’s good to know the wisdom of those who come before us, especially if we receive their guidance with humility. But a lot of quotes will not necessarily make our writing (or speaking or any other creative work) any better. In fact, if we are quoting for the wrong reasons (to show off, or to avoid articulating our own inner wisdom), then such quotes can actually work against us. Finally, when we do bring the wisdom of external source into our writing, let’s be like Boros, and never settle for merely quoting someone just to prove a point. Let’s be courageous enough to meet the wisdom of others with the insight of creativity of our own hearts. Then, in partnership with the Holy Spirit, who knows what will emerge?
And finally…
Here’s a video of Richard Rohr telling the charming story that I opened this blog post with. Enjoy!
