meditation is a lost art

God's people have been practicing meditation since Genesis.

Christians have practicing it since the roots of the Way.

Why is it a lost art in modern day Christianity?

Why will most Christians note it as some strictly Zen yoga thing if it's mentioned?

Meditation is crucial to the spiritual disciplines.

Some of you might think, o it's just Janelle, "that hippie", saying this. Well I am not coming to you as a hippie but as a Christ follower when I mention critical things to our faith such as meditation, social justice, and environmental stewardship. These are so much more than just strong opinions of mine- they go to the heart of Christ. Please do not let my apparent liberalism distract you from the real matter at hand.

But, I digress.

Meditation is simply a great thing, which on my own wisdom, I would not even consider. I had to first of all humble myself to read this little book called Celebration of Discipline by Richard J. Foster.
In this book, he explains the importance of spiritual disciples such as prayer, fasting, worship, meditation and scripture. Even though we cannot work to obtain God's love, because it is freely given to us if we receive, does not mean we do not strive on to know and love God. God's grace is not cheap and to be taken for granted.

The first chapter after the introduction covers meditation and I am eating it up. The past couple of days, I've been doing a couple med exercises from the book, and even making some up as I go (because there is no formula to it). I feel so much more free and open to God's spirit than I have lately, and I have a long way to go in my disciplines but I already get a sense of true communion with God. It's a really moving thing.

At church today, I heard a sermon on the same plane. The Western Church is focused on growth and performance. In my time in college, where I grew most with God at all in my life, I struggled a lot with treating my faith like a performance art. I knew all the right answers. And I seemed passionate. With me was carried a charisma that delighted other people. But it wasn't always real. I played a game. It was called, get people to like me, because they won't if they see just a timid, anxious girl. As I said, it was something I recognized and I struggled a lot with. I wanted so badly to become genuine. To become real. Even with that, I felt like I had fooled people. I've had friends and even mere acquaintances would tell me that I am one of the most genuine people they knew. I never felt like a bigger farce. And I would try to dissuade them from that opinion. But beating yourself down is not humility, and it's not true sincerity.

And again, I digress.

The sermon was about how it's not about performance but tapping into the inner man. As trite as it may sound, it's what's going on in the inside that matters. Spending quiet time alone with God is probably one of the best things you can do. Not some big act of Charity. Not praying loudly on a street corner, or some big conference, not using InterVarsity merely as means of social time.

I seldom take quiet times. It kind of makes my heart sad. I have an amazing opportunity to sit in the presence of the King of the Universe, but I am just too content listening to Radiohead and writing on someone's Facebook wall.

Foster says that superficiality is the curse of our age. I believe it. If you've seen me lately, obsessing more about weight and hair even more than books, finding out about the coolest music, you would see I'm living proof. Even people like me who prance around as if they were "too good for that," counter-culture, deep, contemplative people, indulge in meaningless vanities- all the time with a blink of the eye, not a second to lose.

Time to quiet down and listen. Noise down, ears opens, heart receptive.

(more to follow as I discover)