Lectio
“This gradual training in consent is the school of divine love in which God invites us to accept the divine plan [and] to share the divine life with us in a way that transcends all that the human imagination can foresee.”
— Thomas Keating, Invitation to Love
Meditatio
When we sit quietly in prayer, consenting to the presence of the Spirit of God in our hearts, we are living out, in our own imperfect way, the perfect yes of Mary who, through the Spirit of the Lord, received the child of God in her womb. This single moment of faithful consent changed the life of Mary and all who would come after her. This humble young woman’s yes opened the world to the God of love who quietly asks each and every one of us, “Do you consent? May I enter your heart as I entered Mary’s womb?”
To sit silently in prayer is to say, “Yes. I consent. Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.” (Luke 1:38) He asks nothing more of us than this in order for him to do his good works in us. And as soon as we consent, we begin to be transformed by the love that comforts the brokenhearted and makes crooked paths straight.
This is not merely the practice of monks and mystics, or those set apart from the flock to be signposts for others along the way. No. This is the practice of Jesus who often withdrew to lonely places — the wilderness, a mountainside, a boat on the sea — for solitary prayer, early in the morning, before sunrise, before meals, after preaching and healing, or all night long to be alone with God, to hear his voice, and to say yes to his will. And so it should be with us.
God awaits our quiet consent to his quiet presence. Unlike the demands of the world or our intrusive thoughts, God does not impose himself upon us. Instead, he stands at the door to our hearts and knocks, requesting entry, an audience, and a relationship. It is up to us to open that door and to invite him in. And silent prayer is one way to do this — centering prayer in particular — to practice consent, to practice opening the door to God, and to practice trusting that his gentle ways and his abounding love are enough.
Through this practice of quiet consent, like Mary, we say yes. Like John the Baptist, we say that he must increase in us, and we must decrease. And like Jesus, who both receives our yes and shows us how to give it, we pray: Heavenly Father, your will, not mine, be done. I entrust my heart to your divine love, my will to your divine plan, and my life to share in your divine life. Through this practice of quiet consent, our life slowly, steadily transforms from the no of sin and death into the yes of grace and eternal life.
Oratio
Mary
mother of contemplatives
mother of God,
pray for us
may your humble yes
enter our hearts
softening us from within
opening the doors
to the Spirit of the Lord
who gently knocks
awaiting our consent
awaiting our surrender
to Love’s will
Contemplatio
Where in your life is God quietly knocking on the door of your heart, awaiting your consent to enter?
Related Scripture
“Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.” — Romans 8:26 (NRSVCE)
For Further Reading
If you enjoyed this post, you may also like He Loved Us First: God’s Prevenient Love and the Welcome That Never Ends, which explores the same movement of consent and surrender — tracing how God’s love is always prior to our yes, already drawing us home before we know we are lost.
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity.
Wrestling With God.
Returning To Love.
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