What Is Contemplation? A Practical Introduction Rooted in the Christian Tradition
- Nicholas Fournie
- 7 days ago
- 6 min read
Contemplation. It’s a word that sounds both rich and mysterious—like something you should understand, but don't quite. Is it meditation? Prayer? A kind of thinking? In a world where mindfulness and manifestation are trending hashtags, “contemplation” might seem like just another spiritual buzzword. But for me, it’s something else entirely. It’s become the anchor of my life—a grounded, ancient, and quietly radical way of being that continues to reshape how I experience the world, the divine, and myself..
Let’s start with a few definitions—explicitly named as such—to get our bearings.
1. Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines contemplation as:
A concentration on spiritual things as a form of private devotion
A state of mystical awareness of God’s being
An act of considering with attention
2. Richard Rohr, a contemporary Christian teacher, puts it more poetically:
“Contemplation is a long, loving look at the Real.”
3. The Centre for Action and Contemplation describes it this way:
“Contemplation is the practice of being fully present—in heart, mind, and body—to what is in a way that allows you to creatively respond and work toward what could be.”
They add: “The contemplative mind is about receiving and being present to the moment, to the now, without judgment, analysis, or critique. Contemplative ‘knowing’ is a much more holistic, heart-centered knowing, where mind, heart, soul, and senses are open and receptive to the moment just as it is.”
This all sounds lovely, but remains unclear. Is this mindfulness? Is it meditation? Yes, and no. Let’s look at where the Christian contemplative tradition comes from and how it compares to other practices.
Origins of the Contemplative Prayer Movement
Contemplative prayer has deep and ancient roots in the Christian tradition. It begins with Jesus himself, who often withdrew to solitary places to pray in silence. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus taught his followers not to pray for show but to enter their “inner room” and commune with God in secret—a powerful metaphor for the inward stillness at the heart of contemplation.
After Christ, the early Apostolic Fathers and Mothers passed on this interior way of prayer, which would blossom in the deserts of Egypt, Palestine, and Syria through the Desert Fathers and Mothers of the 3rd and 4th centuries. These early Christian hermits sought God not through intellectual effort, but through silence, solitude, and the continual remembrance of God, often using short, repetitive prayers to anchor their hearts.
One of the most important figures in preserving and transmitting this tradition is John Cassian, a 5th-century monk whose Conferences compiled the wisdom of the desert into a form that influenced both Eastern and Western monasticism. Cassian emphasized the practice of pure prayer—a continual awareness of God’s presence beyond words or images.
In the Middle Ages, this tradition took deep root in monastic life. The Cloud of Unknowing, written in 14th-century England, distilled the essence of contemplative prayer into a method of reaching God not through knowledge, but through loving surrender into the “cloud” of mystery. Simultaneously, great mystics like St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross in Spain articulated deep interior journeys of transformation toward union with God. In the East, Gregory Palamas championed the hesychast movement of silent, repetitive prayer (especially the Jesus Prayer), affirming it as a direct path to divine communion.
The modern contemplative movement was reborn in the 20th century, particularly in the wake of the Second Vatican Council (1962–1965), which encouraged the faithful to reclaim ancient spiritual practices. The Trappist monks of St. Joseph’s Abbey—Fr. Thomas Keating, Fr. William Meninger, and Fr. Basil Pennington took up this call, developing a method known as Centring Prayer. Drawing from The Cloud of Unknowing and Cassian’s work, they offered a structured, accessible way for laypeople to enter contemplative silence.
Another major figure is Thomas Merton, a Trappist monk and prolific writer whose reflections on prayer, mysticism, and interfaith dialogue helped renew interest in the Christian mystical tradition. It was Merton who described contemplation as being “centered entirely on the presence of God,” which would inspire the name of the modern movement’s method: Centring Prayer.
What Makes Christian Contemplation Unique?
Although Christian contemplation bears external similarities to Eastern forms of meditation—like sitting in silence, focusing attention, or practicing non-judgmental awareness—its theological heart is distinct.
At its core, Christian contemplation is relational. It is not about self-realization or entering altered states of consciousness for their own sake, but about communion with God—specifically, with the Triune God as revealed in Jesus Christ. The practitioner does not seek to dissolve the self into an impersonal oneness, but rather to surrender the self in loving trust to the personal presence of God who indwells and transcends all things.
Unlike many New Age or syncretic meditative practices, Christian contemplation is grounded in Scripture and tradition. Its methods often involve the use of a sacred word (as in Centering Prayer) or phrases from Scripture (as in Lectio Divina or the Jesus Prayer) to gently return the heart to God’s presence. Its goal is not simply tranquillity but transformation—to become more like Christ, to participate in divine love, and to be sent out in compassion and service to the world.
While the words "Jesus" and "Christ" may come across as unsettling for those at odds with the Christian tradition, Christology (the study of the being of Christ) is quite expansive when we escape the bonds of Orthodoxy. I will share my thoughts on the meaning of "Christ" and its implications for transformation in a coming article.
While mindfulness often emphasizes awareness of breath or bodily sensations, Christian contemplation prioritizes awareness of God’s indwelling presence. While other traditions may guide practitioners to detach from thought entirely, Christian contemplation invites detachment only to the extent that it removes obstacles to loving attention to God.
Some critics argue that contemplative practices—especially Centring Prayer—can resemble New Age or non-Christian techniques when stripped of their theological grounding. But when properly rooted in Christ-centred intention, these practices are revealed not as imports from other religions but as a profound reclamation of the Church’s own mystical heritage.
Why This Is My Path
I approach spirituality today through the lens of Christian contemplation—not because I was raised Christian, or because I had a “born-again” experience—but because as an English-Canadian I recognize Christianity as my ancestral and cultural vessel. It contains everything I need to approach the Real.
For years, I wrestled with needing to “find the one right path,” to choose between systems, to pick a team. I dabbled, deeply and sincerely, in other traditions—particularly Hindu Bhakti and Zen Buddhism. But as much beauty as I found there, it often felt… contrived. I wasn’t from that world. Praying to Krishna as a Canadian man living in the mountains of Panamá stopped making sense. There was however, crosses on top of the mountains that circled the valley I lived in, and slowly, that moved something within me.
Christianity is the world I come from. That rootedness gives me the freedom to be creative within it. It gives me structure, language, rhythm, and symbols that I understand at a soul-level—even if I spent years rejecting them.
Contemplation, for me, is not about superiority. It’s not about claiming that my path is the path. Every mystical tradition carries wisdom. Every culture approaches the truth from its own angle. But it’s precisely in recognizing my roots that I found the stability to explore. Contemplation—silent, deep, transformative—is a method that holds the juice of every other path. And it continues to change me.
It’s from this lens that I call myself a contemplative coach. Not because I expect those I meet with to be Christian—or even spiritual—but because this way of seeing, this way of being, is the lens through which I now understand the world. To be a contemplative is to cultivate presence, spaciousness, listening, and interior freedom. These are also the foundational qualities of good coaching.
As I work toward my ICF (International Coaching Federation) accreditation, I’m learning that this vocation is less about advice and more about bearing witness—offering a nonjudgmental presence, deep listening, and the kind of attention that allows another person’s truth to rise to the surface. That is also what contemplative prayer has trained me in.
My work isn’t about giving you the answers. It’s about believing—trusting—that, with the aid of my questions and presence, the answers you seek will be illuminated in you. In that sense, my coaching practice is an extension of my contemplative life. It's not separate from it. The same stillness I cultivate in silence is the ground from which I serve others.
Resource Suggestions
Foundational Texts
The Cloud of Unknowing (Anonymous)
The Conferences by John Cassian
Interior Castle by St. Teresa of Avila
Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross
Philokalia (Eastern Orthodox contemplative texts)
Modern Introductions and Guides
Open Mind, Open Heart by Thomas Keating
The Inner Experience by Thomas Merton
Into the Silent Land by Martin Laird
Everything Belongs by Richard Rohr
Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening by Cynthia Bourgeault
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