Calling from the Heart

. . . notes on wordiness and prayer

Sometimes in conversation we say things like, the word is not the thing. When we do this as ACIM students, we recall a particular warning about the relationship between healing and prayer:

. . . words are but symbols of symbols. They are thus twice removed from reality (M-21.1:9-10).

On this view, words do not really play a factor in healing. What matters is the cry for healing, for help - the spirit of our longing for wholeness - which cannot be contained by language.

What you ask for you receive. But this refers to the prayer of the heart, not to the words you use in praying (M-21.1:1-4).

This is not a new idea, the recognition that there is an apparent gap between the word - the sign - and what it means or points to.

It often shows up when a conversation, or dialogue, is flagging. Like there's a problem somewhere in our shared understanding and we can't figure out how to fix it so we wave it away with "the word is not the thing."

But as the Manual for Teachers points out, that's not really the best use to which that phrase, that idea, can be put. "The word is not the thing" isn't about shutting dialogue down, or otherwise invalidating communication, but rather opening it up. It's an invitation to deepen our shared understanding that the function of love is "to unite all things unto itself, and to hold all things together by extending its wholeness" (T-12.VIII.7:9-11).

Abhishiktananda was even blunter.

God is always present to us . . . Creation is simply the communication of this Presence, this mysterious life of God in himself . . . the life of prayer, the life of contemplation, is simply to realize God's presence in us (Prayer 2-3).

There is no separation anywhere and everything attests to this.

The secret to words and healing - i.e., using them to realize there is no separation anywhere because God is always present to us - is that while the word is not the thing, it can - it does - point to the thing. If I am hungry I cannot eat the word "bread" but I can use it to ask you for a seat at the table.

The problem isn't that words are "symbols of symbols." The problem is our pretentious disdain of symbolism's function. Symbols exist for the sake of communication. They unite us with each other and make clear that our relationship is the remembrance of God.

God’s teachers have God’s Word behind their symbols. And He Himself gives to the words they use the power of His Spirit, raising them from meaningless symbols to the Call of Heaven itself (M-21.5:8-9).

This means using words intentionally in order to recognize and connect with one another. That is what prayer is - the use of words in service of love and union. We aim for simplicity and honesty - we let our yes mean yes - and stay humble because we know how easy it is to go sideways. But so long as we remember that the words with which we pray are pointers, then we will not fail to remember that to which they prayerfully point.

The most perfect prayer necessarily makes use of signs, because the human mind has been created such by God, but it makes use of them with full liberty and sovereignty and it tends always toward the Beyond where alone Reality abides in the unfathomable silence of the Godhead (Abhishiktananda Prayer 4).

The invitation is to actually use language that way - to be in relationship with our wordiness in a way that both honors its potential for communication and connection as well as the Silence from which it arises and back to which it always points. How else will we remember that we are Children of God, forever seeking God's glory because it perfectly reflects our own (W-pII.211.1:1-2)?

All our relationships point to God and can be lived that way. All our words are a prayer that our unity in God might be remembered now by living that way. Prayer is never personal. It always exists in the context of a relationship remembering - reclaiming - its holiness.

You do not make yourself the bearer of the special gift that brings the healing. You but recognize your oneness with the one who calls for help (S-3.III.4:5-6).

So the invitation is to use words with care today, which must also mean trusting silence, and allowing our brothers and sisters to use words to connect with us. To do so is to listen to God, and to share with God, without in any way asking God to be other than this person, this situation, this moment.

Awareness of God's unconditional presence to us now means we no longer need to judge or interfere with life in any way. Our calling clarifies; we are here to remember God and for that we need do nothing.

Forgiveness . . . is still, and quietly does nothing. It offends no aspect of reality, nor seeks to twist it to appearances it likes. It merely looks, and waits, and judges not (W-pII.1.4:1-3).

And the calling within the calling clarifies, as well. We remember God by communicating that memory to and with one another, in words. Are you hearing what I hear?

~ Sean