Pondering as Prayer and an Act of Faith

“The most fortunate are those who have a wonderful capacity to appreciate again and again, freshly and naively, the basic goods of life, with awe, pleasure, wonder and even ecstasy.” – Abraham Maslow

A bright red male cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) just came to rest on a post outside the porch where I sit praying and writing this. It immediately grabs my attention, of course, because of its radiance and beautiful angular lines. I know its trilled, two-part call, for it’s a prayer of its own, a hymn of praise to the new day: cheer-cheer-cheer-purty-purty-purty. (Translation: Yay! It’s a beautiful new day!)

My mind flits to the “why” of this bird for me. Why does its beauty catch me off guard? Why does its song intrigue and pull me toward God? Why does its presence always pull me away from whatever it is I am doing just to watch it for an instant (or a few minutes)? Then perhaps I switch to gratitude and praise of my own: Thank you, Creator of all things (including the ongoing and evolutionary process that brings me this red specter of grace to my backyard at this very moment) for the simple beauty of a simple day. Thank you for the time to sit still and see it. Thank you for your presence in the world, for your ongoing care and creation of everything around me.

This is the work of pondering, and it’s a little different than thinking or daydreaming or simply observing. It’s not bird-watching. It’s the work of paying attention and being open, of connecting the simple facts of the world with a greater sense of presence, of recognition of the small within the whole, of finding God in the things and actions of the Earth and of my own life. It’s not hard, but it takes intention.

In David Benner’s lovely and insightful book, “Opening to God: Lectio Divina and Life as Prayer,” he reminds us that the word ponder comes from the same Latin noun (pondus) that brings us “pound,” which as a verb suggest the mental weighing of ideas. But this, Benner writes, is a reflective, not an analytical activity: “When we ponder something we hold it lightly and give it space. We turn it over and consider it from various angles. We ruminate on it — that is, we think about it repeatedly, slowly and casually, efficiency of our thought process not being as important as carefully considering all aspects of the issue. Pondering becomes prayer when reflection arises in a mind that is open to God.”

This, at least it seems for me, is a most appropriate approach and primer to a life of prayer. When we can arise each morning and listen for the sound of our favorite bird and then connect it to the movement of God in our lives, we are certainly on to something mystical and yet very real. Perhaps some will see us with our heads in the clouds, lost in our thoughts, those who can’t pay attention to more important aspects of life because they are too busy looking for divine action in the world, but I’ll take that criticism any day in exchange for a life of less worry and concern over things that all too quickly pass and don’t really matter. The ability to ponder is an invitation to grace and a life of gratitude.

For in the end, heaven and earth are all one continuous thing, both held together by the unchanging and ever-creative presence of God. Or as the Shaker proverb says, “Heaven and Earth are threads from one loom.”

We just need to look for, and ponder, those threads.