An Ancient Way of Seeing

Listening for the Heartbeat of God: A Celtic Christian Spirituality

Part V (Conclusion) 

Fall Creek Abbey, September 5, 2024

“L” arrived a little before 8 am with a Panera delivery for a group of local educators gathering that morning at Fall Creek Abbey. Katie, the organizer, greeted and welcomed her as she carried in two large bags containing breakfast goodies for the meeting. “L” placed them on the counter, and Katie offered to walk her to the front door. As they passed through its threshold, “L” turned to Katie, grabbing her arms earnestly, and said, “I just need to tell you something! I’ve been here twice, and when I walk into this space, I feel loved!” 

Wow! Katie told me about this encounter with “L” later that morning. As you can imagine, I was blown away by the story! And while I might naturally assume that “L”’s words reflected her response to the aesthetics of the Abbey, in truth, it says a lot about the spiritual sensitivity of this young woman. It told me that she was awake and receptive! She was alive to her experience of life and, consequently, to the presence of the Divine.

In this final blog of my series on Celtic Christian spirituality, I want to reflect on this ancient way of seeing and the difference it could make if we incorporated it into our way of being Christian today. The story of “L” seems like a serendipitous illustration. 

Over the last couple of months, I’ve explored three dualities that emerged as a result of a decision made in the 6th Century to eliminate Celtic Christian spirituality from the imperial Christian faith that we’ve inherited in the West. These three dualisms, SPIRITUAL/MATERIAL, ALL GOOD/ALL BAD, US/THEM, are intertwined and form the infrastructure of what I would describe as an impoverished Christian faith. 

What I’d like to propose in this conclusion is that we reclaim this ancient way of seeing by awakening to three signature convictions of Celtic Christian Spirituality: 

1. All of life is sacramental.

2. All people are bearers of Christ’s light. 

3. All humanity belongs to God’s family! 

Now, let’s go back to “L”’s story to illustrate. As I’ve remembered and cherished her comment about experiencing Love at Fall Creek Abbey, I realized that her story truly embodies this ancient way of seeing. Let me explain what I mean. 

Whether she was conscious of it or not, “L” was open to receiving any moment in life as a sacrament—a sacrament being any medium that imparts the grace of God’s presence with us. That’s why she detected Love when she entered the Abbey. She wasn’t doing anything “spiritual” in order to encounter the sacred. She was doing her job making a Panera delivery. She wasn’t going to a typically “spiritual place,” like a church. She was entering a home, and most likely didn’t even know that it was an Abbey. But because “L” was awake to life all around her, she noticed what was happening inside her, in her heart. “L” recognized a change—a shift that she named as an experience of Love. From my perspective, that means she experienced God because “God is love.” (I John 4:8) All of life is sacramental!

Something was awake inside “L”, something like sonar, which helped her detectLove. Was she

aware that she had been created in God’s image, an interior source of light and love that pinged when she noticed what she noticed? Not necessarily. However, we don’t have to be conscious of God for God’s love to register with us. Yet consider the harm done if you or I, rather than affirming what “L” noticed, instead thrust the dogma of original sin in her face and told her that in reality her nature was “opposite to all good, and wholly inclined to all evil.” Can you imagine how “unloved” she would feel? How deflated and crushed she’d be? Now consider the impact if you or I engaged with her and ask what it was like to feel love, and whether this may be what it feels like to be loved by God. I’m pretty sure we’d see far more people interested in Jesus if we approached sharing our faith like this! All people are bearers of Christ’s light!

As I recall meeting “L” in the kitchen of the Abbey, I remember very distinctly making eye contact with her, something I intentionally do when welcoming guests. At first, I thought she was on staff with Katie until I realized she was a delivery person. A stranger. An often-dismissed young adult. Yet Katie treated her with such regard! “L” was welcomed as a valuable member of God’s family. Over these last twelve years, I’ve been re-formed through the on-going experience of offering hospitality to strangers through Fall Creek Abbey. This service has worn deep grooves in my own soul that influence how I see my neighbor, who I see as my neighbor. Or, in the words of Jesus, how I treat “one of the least of these” (Matthew 25:31-46). When did we “see” you? The sheep and goats asked the Son of Man in this parable. Jesus replied, you “saw” me when you took care of the needs of the lowly—the hungry, sick, impoverished, and imprisoned. All humanity belongs to God’s family! 

(On this point, I can’t help but think about the presidential debate that so many of us watched last week. While there are undoubtedly good reasons to improve border security and immigration processes, dehumanizing and degrading immigrants is outrageous and antithetical to the love and mission of Christ! It is evil!)

Coming Home  

In truth, I stumbled into writing this series after casually picking up the book, Listening for the Heartbeat of God by J. Philip Newell. I’d read it before! But this time, it struck a deep chord of resonance like never before. It felt like coming home! Like returning to a homeland, a geography that was both familiar and comforting. I suspect I’ve always had the spiritual sensibilities of a Celt. Who knows—maybe it’s in my DNA. My maiden name is McLaughlin (Scottish) and my mother’s maiden name is McGauhey (Irish) after all!

Or maybe, like you, I’ve been looking for an expression of Christian faith that resonates with me—that feels generous enough to hold all the tensions that exist in our confusing world today, and wise enough to not provide simplistic answers to resolve them. (I.e. dualisms)  I’ve had the sense that my journey of study has been like a painter studying another painter, picking up techniques and applying them to an already developed craft. When you look, you will see the influence of Monet or Renoir, just like when you read what I write, or listen to how I speak of God, you will hear echoes of Celtic Christian spirituality.  

I conclude this series feeling thoughtful, hopeful, and still a bit miffed! I’m angered that decisions were made centuries ago to eliminate certain expressions of Christian faith because they threatened the empire! I also feel thoughtful and hopeful. I realize now that I don’t have to buy all that’s been presented to me as orthodox—because it hasn’t always been that way!

So, while I remain loyal to Christ and the Church and (hopefully) patient with the awkward evolution of Christian faith today, I hope to keep exploring and declaring my own thoughts with less fear of what others think. Reading and studying Celtic Christian spirituality has emboldened me to reclaim an ancient way of seeing! I welcome your company on this journey.

Slan mo chara (safe home, my friend), Beth

For further reading:

Listening for the Heartbeat of God, J. Philip Newell

Christ of the Celts, J. Philip Newell

The Celtic Way of Prayer, Esther De Waal

The Soul’s Slow Ripening, Christine Valters Paintner

Celtic Benediction, J. Philip Newell