Poustinia Proposal
A Journey Into Contemplation

In searching the Internet for a quote by Karl Rahner, I came across these thoughts from Guy Sayles which resonated with me: “For many years now, I’ve had a growing conviction the great Catholic theologian Karl Rahner was right to have claimed: ‘The Christian of the future will be a mystic or will not exist at all’ (The quote in question). He meant that people will either have a dynamic, immediate and experiential relationship with God, or they will be bereft of faith.”

Sayles continues, “Faith will either affect ordinary awareness, create new ways of living and energize every dimension of life, or it will be formulaic, superficial and empty. The rapid pace and relentless pressure of our lives, the questions of truth raised by unavoidable pluralism, the explosion of knowledge and technology, and the ongoing dilemmas of the human condition all conspire to make belief difficult. It’s always true, but it’s especially true in such a climate: Faith can’t survive on the meager nourishment provided by the mind alone – by ideas, doctrines and arguments. Faith needs the nurture that comes from encounters with the Divine and experiences of the Holy.”

He then adds practical advice for us: “We don’t simply decide, of course, that we will become mystics. Instead, we learn to spend time in shared worship and solitary silence; to listen; to open our eyes and hearts to the wonders of creation; to pay attention to our feelings, longings, fears and hopes; to share our lives with those who need our love and whose love we need; to surrender to, rather than attempt to conquer, mystery; and to expect the embrace of the sacred Spirit. These practices open us to awareness of the God who is always present with us.”

These thoughts by Sayles initiated a reflection on my own journey into a more contemplative approach to life. I recall, as a teenager, seeing Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen on television attribute his success in preaching to his practice of a daily “holy hour.” That was seconded by Fr. Armand Nigro who during a 30-day retreat before my ordination to the priesthood encouraged us to make a daily “holy hour” part of our prayer lives.

During my first year of ministry as a young Oblate priest, I read the book Poustinia by Catherine van de Hueck-Doherty. I was intrigued by her explanation of the poustinia (a Russian word for desert) as a way to make space for the Holy Spirit to bring about some divinization into our lives. Making a poustinia involves a twenty-four-hour time of solitude, prayer, resting and fasting on bread and water. Much of her writing came out of her experience of the poustina. Not long after reading that book, I began to make a monthly poustinia which for me became four essentials: praying many “holy hours,” resting, writing and fasting.

Actually, the book Drumming From Within published by Novalis in 2009 was a direct result of my poustinia experience. I would think of an experience of Indigenous ministry over a period of a month, then during my monthly poustinia, write up that experience, find a scripture passage to complement the theme of that story, and write a prayer to go with both.

Eventually, in a way and time I can’t remember, the ancient method of praying, Lectio Divina, came into my life. It includes four stages: Lectio or reading a passage of scripture, Meditatio or meditating on that passage, asking what is God saying to me through that word, Oratio or praying with that passage for our needs and the needs of the world, and finally, Contemplatio or contemplation. This is the most challenging aspect and involves trying to just be in God’s presence, not thinking or feeling anything. It is striving to be like Elijah in his cave finding God in “sheer silence” (I Kings 19:12) or like Mary of Bethany at the feet of Jesus, not so much “listening to his words,” but simply awed that she was “in the presence of” The Word (Luke 10:38-40).

So, I began to include the practice of Lectio Divina into my monthly poustinia. I would either go somewhere else the night before, or do it at home. Once I walked out the door to the empty former sisters’ house at Battleford with only my pajamas, and spent the day with no resources at all – very similar to the experience of doing a four-day Indigenous fast. Now I take my lap-top for the sake of writing.

The rhythm is praying an hour using Lectio Divina, writing, then resting for a half hour, and repeating the pattern throughout the day while fasting by drinking lots of water. I come out of it the next morning at 5 am and slide back into my regular routine, which is aquacize in the pool before breakfast.

I find the poustinia an excellent way to get re-grounded in faith, rested up for another month’s ministry, experience inner healing and growth at a profound level not accessed any other way, perhaps even avoid some sick time, and also be a means of evangelizing through writing that is the fruit of this special time in solitude.

Glen Argan wrote in the December issue of Living With Christ that mindfulness and meditation are being taught in centres around the world, while our churches and seminaries are emptying out. Given that statement, the quote from Karl Rahner and reflection by Guy Sayles above, plus the fact that we as Oblates (and perhaps even Oblate Associates) are expected to “set aside special times each month” (CC # 35) for deeper personal prayer, I would propose the practice of making a monthly Lectio Divina-holy hour-based poustinia as an excellent way to do just that. Consider this article an invitation my brother Oblates, as well as Oblate Associates, to move in this direction and be richly rewarded spiritually.

By Bishop Sylvain Lavoie, OMI