Senior 38: On Prayer and Study

The following is a reading review that I wrote for my class on Theology and the Christian Life. Some of the transitions are a bit rough and in need of further revision, but I thought it was worth posting. I've been thinking a great deal lately about spiritual disciplines, education, and their relationship to the full Christian life. It has been particularly interesting to explore the implications and consequences of our (humanity's) essentially-embodied existence. But more on that another time. Here's the paper:

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There seems to be a great deal of uncertainty, within the contemporary Christian community, about the role and nature of prayer. There also can be found an attitude of mistrust toward rigorous study and deeply intellectual endeavors. These problems do not characterize the whole church, but large pockets of people struggle in and with both these areas. Simone Weil writes about both prayer and study in her essay, “Reflections on the Right Use of School Studies with a View to the Love of God,”[1] and makes very lucid and practical the connection between and benefits of these two disciplines.

She begins by pointing to attention as the common element in prayer and study. In her view, it is in the ability of school studies to prepare and train someone for true prayer that they find their principle value. School studies, Weil says, “are extremely effective in increasing the power of attention that will be available at the time of prayer, on condition that they are carried out with a view to this purpose and this purpose alone.” (Weil, 57) On this point, any and all studies are equally profitable, even those that are otherwise distasteful. Even when studying a subject that one dislikes, the deliberate practice of giving attention and extended focus to a task “always has its effect on the spiritual place.” (Weil, 58)

One important feature of the practice of study--and an attribute of most disciplines--is that it requires entering fully into it before any results can appear.[2] Weil writes: “If we do not believe in them [i.e. the benefits of attention or discipline] before experiencing them,… if we do not regulate our conduct by it before having proved it, if we do not hold on to it for a long time by faith alone, a faith at first stormy and without light, we shall never transform it into certainty.” (Weil, 58) The serious practice of any discipline necessarily involves faith--practicing constantly and consistently day-after-day, week-after-week, and month-after-month.

Weil is careful to distinguish between genuine attention and “contracting their brows, holding their breath, [and] stiffening their muscles,” the latter being a kind of physical exertion that actually has nothing to do with sustained concentration. She also rejects “will power” as an effective instrument for pursuing authentic focus. “Will power” might get the immediate task done, but it does not help to nurture and cultivate the spiritual nature. “The intelligence can only be led by desire. For there to be desire, there must be pleasure and joy in the work. The intelligence only grows and bears fruit in joy.” (Weil, 61) And joy is never forced but comes freely in answer to desire and longing.

“Attention consists of suspending our thought, leaving it detached, empty, and ready to be penetrated by the object; it means holding in our minds, within reach of this thought, but on a lower level and not in contact with it, the diverse knowledge we have acquired which we are forced to make use of.” (Weil, 62)[3]

This passage draws a significant connection between the human interactions (1) with God through prayer and (2) with the world through attention. In prayer, a person approaches God in an attitude of desire and expectancy, but is utterly incapable of forcing God to reveal Himself. The person is not “passive,” but remains dependent on God to make a genuine personal connection. Weil seems to say that a similar approach is involved in proper attention, focus, and concentration; all human interactions with nature are a kind of revelation. Understanding is not taken or appropriated but received.[4] Yet another parallel can be found in the way one ought to approach Scripture--as some have described it, not so much reading it as allowing it to read us.

Weil suggests that academic study is closer to God than field or factory-work in terms of cultivating this ability for attention, focus, and concentration. She writes, “Peasants and workmen possess a nearness to God of incomparable savor which is found in the depths of poverty, in the absence of social consideration and in the endurance of long drawn-out sufferings.” On this point, in particular, I disagree with Weil. I believe that attention is vital to the life of every Christian and must be cultivated by all (though some will attain to greater or lesser degrees of aptitude). In fact, part of what makes sustained concentration so difficult for students is the variety of tasks and responsibilities that clamor and vie for their attention. What sets apart the “peasants and workmen” is not their underdeveloped capacity for attention, but the absence of distractions that would block that capacity’s natural growth.

This point has still wider-ranging applications for contemporary American Christians. A certain kind of Christian minimalist might raise an objection like this: “If spiritual disciplines are so important, why are they not discussed more in Scripture?” Richard Foster answers quite succinctly, “Those Disciplines were so frequently practiced and such a part of the general culture that the “how to” was common knowledge.” (Foster, 3)[5] It would appear that, compared with some of the Christian communities of past eras, the American Christians’ knowledge of spiritual disciplines is woefully deficient. It should be no surprise, then, that extra effort is needed to appreciate even the simplest of their benefits.

Another Christian minimalist might argue that deep theological inquiry is an affront to the essentially personal, dynamic, and immediate nature of the genuine encounter with God. But look at our situation; America has become so secularized that most people lack the capacity to even recognize, much less understand, a spiritual encounter or spiritual activity of any kind. That is why Simone Weil’s counsel is so valuable:

Train yourself, through study, to assume a position and posture that is receptive to God’s voice and activity, which is the heart of prayer. Be aware that reaching that point may involve exercises and activities that look almost nothing like prayer (e.g. study--a point that Dallas Willard makes in the Introduction to Spirit of the Disciplines). But have faith--both in study, that it will bear fruit in prayer, and in prayer, that God will meet you when you call out to Him. This is not passivity (sitting back, indifferent to God’s work), nor is it forced (trying to make God show up or fit into one’s own plan and agenda); it is being actively receptive. And this posture, along with the principles that Simone Weil has laid down for study and prayer, finds useful application in every spiritual discipline that the follower of Jesus can undertake.

[1] From Weil, Simone, Waiting for God, trans. by Emma Craufurd (Perennial Classics), pp. 57-65.
[2] One of Weil's best moments in this essay: page 58, "Certainties of this kind are experimental..."
[3] Another of Weil's best moments.
[4] "The solution of a geometry problem does not in itself constitute a percious gift, but the same law applies to it because it is the image of something precious." (Weil, 62)
[5] Foster, Richard, Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth, (New York: Harper & Row).

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This essay by Simone Weil was important for setting the tone of my thought and scholarship this semester. There is a great deal of context surrounding and underlying the preceding material.

Blessings all,

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God is in this place,
And that reality, seen and understood by the grace of God in Christ Jesus through the work of the Holy Spirit, makes all the difference in the world.