Practice of the Presence

Brother Lawrence (1611–1691) was a lay brother in a Carmelite monastery, where he primarily worked in the kitchen. His reflections, known as Practice of the Presence of God, have inspired countless Christians and other spiritual seekers to simple practices of contemplation and presence. He begins by encouraging us to take brief moments of pause during our busy days to enhance our awareness of God’s presence. Carmen Acevedo Butcher offers a modern translation:  

During our work and other activities, even during our reading and writing, no matter how spiritual, and, I emphasize, even during our external devotions and vocal prayers, we must stop for a brief moment, as often as we can, to love God deep in our heart, to savor them [1], even though this is brief and in secret. Since you are aware that God is present before you during your actions, that they are in the deep center of your soul, why not stop your activities and even your vocal prayers, at least from time to time, to love God, praise them, ask for their help, offer them your heart, and thank them?… 

Ultimately, we can offer God no greater evidence of our faithfulness than by frequently detaching and turning from all things created so we can enjoy their Creator for a single moment. I don’t mean to give the impression, though, that you should stop working or abandon your duties. That would be impossible. Wisdom, the mother of all our spiritual strengths, will be your guide. I am saying, however, that it is a common oversight among spiritually minded people not to turn from outside engagements from time to time to worship God within ourselves and enjoy in peace some small moments of their divine presence. 

Brother Lawrence teaches that this practice begins with a faith that God is truly present with us in all times and circumstances:  

All this reverence must be done by faith, believing God is really living in our hearts, and we must honor, love, and serve them in spirit and in truth…. Infinitely excellent and with sovereign power, they deserve all that we are, and everything in heaven and on earth, now and through eternity. All our thoughts, words, and actions belong rightly to God. Let’s put this into practice. 

We must carefully consider what qualities we most need to be kind. Which are the most difficult for us to develop, which ways of harming ourselves and others do we most often fall into, and which are the most frequent and predictable of our falls? At the moment of our struggle, we must turn back to God with complete confidence. Be still in the presence of divine majesty. Respect God humbly, telling them our heartaches and our weaknesses, and asking them lovingly for the help of their grace. This is how in our fragility we find in God our strength.  

Evening

Slowly evening takes on the garments held for it by a line of ancient trees. You look, and the world recedes from you. Part of it moves heavenward, the rest falls away. And you are left, belonging to neither fully, not quite so dark as the silent house, not quite so sure of eternity as that shining now in the night sky, a point of light. You are left, for reasons you can’t explain, with a life that is anxious and huge, so that, at times confined, at times expanding, it becomes in you now stone, now star.

Book of Images

Barrows, Anita; Macy, Joanna. A Year with Rilke (p. 203). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.

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