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My Life as a Prayer: A Multifaith Memoir
“One of the most engaging memoirs I’ve read in ages. The wise and feisty voice I've come to know and love in Elizabeth Cunningham’s Maeve Chronicles fills these pages and carried me away. Anyone who has forged an independent path through the luminous moments and deepest shadows of a soul-filled life will recognize their own spiritual adventures reflected here.”—Mirabai Starr, God of Love
In this intriguing spiritual memoir, The Maeve Chronicles author Elizabeth Cunningham traces her dynamic faith journey and its relationship to her writing.
As the daughter of an Episcopal priest, author Elizabeth Cunningham was born into community, sacred story, and the mysteries of prayer. For her, “If a writer is one who writes, then a ‘prayer’ is one who prays.” As such, her praying is dynamic, a dance between many opposites—active vs. contemplative, community vs. individual, human vs. wild—and Cunningham sees the divine as both incarnate and transcendent, an intimate beloved and a vast mystery. When she prays, Cunningham is both audacious and reverent, asking tough questions of God—raging, listening intently, and dancing and singing ecstatically. Her storyteller’s imagination opens a path from the known to the unknowable, from despair to wonder.
In this nonfiction debut, Cunningham recounts both her lifelong spiritual quest and her ongoing spiritual questions. Her journey takes her from her childhood church, with its ornate liturgy, to the silence of Quaker meeting; from her ordination as an interfaith minister to an eclectic, earth-centered community where she served as priestess before becoming a hermit, of sorts, making a church of her own backyard.
Candid and passionate, Cunningham’s memoir invites readers of all faiths—and doubts!—to explore what it means to live life as a prayer in the beautiful, imperiled world we share.
In this intriguing spiritual memoir, The Maeve Chronicles author Elizabeth Cunningham traces her dynamic faith journey and its relationship to her writing.
As the daughter of an Episcopal priest, author Elizabeth Cunningham was born into community, sacred story, and the mysteries of prayer. For her, “If a writer is one who writes, then a ‘prayer’ is one who prays.” As such, her praying is dynamic, a dance between many opposites—active vs. contemplative, community vs. individual, human vs. wild—and Cunningham sees the divine as both incarnate and transcendent, an intimate beloved and a vast mystery. When she prays, Cunningham is both audacious and reverent, asking tough questions of God—raging, listening intently, and dancing and singing ecstatically. Her storyteller’s imagination opens a path from the known to the unknowable, from despair to wonder.
In this nonfiction debut, Cunningham recounts both her lifelong spiritual quest and her ongoing spiritual questions. Her journey takes her from her childhood church, with its ornate liturgy, to the silence of Quaker meeting; from her ordination as an interfaith minister to an eclectic, earth-centered community where she served as priestess before becoming a hermit, of sorts, making a church of her own backyard.
Candid and passionate, Cunningham’s memoir invites readers of all faiths—and doubts!—to explore what it means to live life as a prayer in the beautiful, imperiled world we share.
278 pages, Kindle Edition
Published November 7, 2023
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May 9, 2024
Summary: A spiritual memoir describing the author’s journey from daughter of an Episcopal priest, through a variety of communities as a writer and multi-faith minister.
Elizabeth Cunningham may be known to many as the author of the fiction series, The Maeve Chronicles, in which Mary Magdalene is reconceived as the daughter of a line of Celtic warrior witches. This, her first non-fiction work, traces her spiritual journey from growing up in the home of an Episcopal priest to becoming a multi-faith minister. Throughout, she describes her life as a prayer and explains what this might mean toward the end of the book:
"The prayer of oblation may be what I mean by life as a prayer. It may be what in Judaism is called a mitzvah or Buddhists mean by mindfulness. Or what Brother Lawrence called practicing the Presence of God while sweeping the floor, of scrubbing pots. The attention of Miss Sang [a mentor] gave to setting the table. what if we made all tasks, each small act, an oblation? Nothing to do with success or failure, obscurity or recognition. Just an offering. I believe that the Dalai Lama once said that his religion is kindness, and religion is only useful in so far as it helps him to be kind. If it helps to make an offering to a deity, then good. An offering is an offering even if we never knew to whom it is made or who receives it” (pp. 254-255).
This gives a good flavor of her outlook. She grew up the daughter of an Episcopal priest. Even as a child she struggled with how God was portrayed in the Bible, but more comfortable with Jesus Her relationship with her father is complicated. She respects his social conscience and activism but his faith didn’t seem to find warm expression in their family life. He seems to have had anger issues and struggled with alcoholism. She grew more distant, eventually joining a Quaker Meeting. A further stage came about the time of her miscarriage when she discovered the Goddess, who became a guide to her. She recounts a decade of hosting with Miss Sang a multi-faith retreat center and community, High Valley.
An important part of her life is the enchanted character of the natural world from the forest next to her childhood home to the land around High Valley to her own garden. This reflects the neopagan influences that sees all things as animated by gods or spirits. She also recounts her writing efforts, the rejections and how she came to write the Maeve Chronicles.
I had several responses to the book. One was that I think it is a reflection of the spirituality of many who would say they are spiritual but not religious, involving both the rejection of some traditional belief while retaining remnants of that faith combined with other practices from diverse sources with self (or the god or goddess within) as the final arbiter.
I was saddened by the account of her childhood encounters with Christianity and found myself reflecting on my very different experience of parents, relative, and a number of adults in my life with vibrant and thoughtful and gracious Christian commitments. Working in collegiate ministry, I’ve been struck by how many who struggle with faith or have rejected it had negative childhood or teenaged experiences of that faith.
I also was struck with the indeterminacy of the object of her life of prayer. To God, to the spirit in all things, to herself, her Goddess, or even a type of well wishing to others (“sending prayer”)? It seemed all of this at various points. How different from a Christian understanding of knowing that we come freely and boldly to our Father, that we are heard, and that prayer is communing with the lover of our souls.
At the same time I loved the idea of life as prayer, in the language of St. Paul, “living sacrifices.” Cunningham offers an example, albeit multi-faith of living that out that is worth observing and affirming.
Flannery O’Connor wrote of the “Christ-haunted south.” There is a Christ-haunted character to this memoir, with snatches of Jesus’ life, of Episcopal liturgy, the writings of C.S. Lewis, of forms of prayer, and more. It feels like something from which she turned away but that still has a hold on her. I wonder what the author will make of that in time to come.
____________________
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher through Librarything’s Early Reviewers Program for review.
Elizabeth Cunningham may be known to many as the author of the fiction series, The Maeve Chronicles, in which Mary Magdalene is reconceived as the daughter of a line of Celtic warrior witches. This, her first non-fiction work, traces her spiritual journey from growing up in the home of an Episcopal priest to becoming a multi-faith minister. Throughout, she describes her life as a prayer and explains what this might mean toward the end of the book:
"The prayer of oblation may be what I mean by life as a prayer. It may be what in Judaism is called a mitzvah or Buddhists mean by mindfulness. Or what Brother Lawrence called practicing the Presence of God while sweeping the floor, of scrubbing pots. The attention of Miss Sang [a mentor] gave to setting the table. what if we made all tasks, each small act, an oblation? Nothing to do with success or failure, obscurity or recognition. Just an offering. I believe that the Dalai Lama once said that his religion is kindness, and religion is only useful in so far as it helps him to be kind. If it helps to make an offering to a deity, then good. An offering is an offering even if we never knew to whom it is made or who receives it” (pp. 254-255).
This gives a good flavor of her outlook. She grew up the daughter of an Episcopal priest. Even as a child she struggled with how God was portrayed in the Bible, but more comfortable with Jesus Her relationship with her father is complicated. She respects his social conscience and activism but his faith didn’t seem to find warm expression in their family life. He seems to have had anger issues and struggled with alcoholism. She grew more distant, eventually joining a Quaker Meeting. A further stage came about the time of her miscarriage when she discovered the Goddess, who became a guide to her. She recounts a decade of hosting with Miss Sang a multi-faith retreat center and community, High Valley.
An important part of her life is the enchanted character of the natural world from the forest next to her childhood home to the land around High Valley to her own garden. This reflects the neopagan influences that sees all things as animated by gods or spirits. She also recounts her writing efforts, the rejections and how she came to write the Maeve Chronicles.
I had several responses to the book. One was that I think it is a reflection of the spirituality of many who would say they are spiritual but not religious, involving both the rejection of some traditional belief while retaining remnants of that faith combined with other practices from diverse sources with self (or the god or goddess within) as the final arbiter.
I was saddened by the account of her childhood encounters with Christianity and found myself reflecting on my very different experience of parents, relative, and a number of adults in my life with vibrant and thoughtful and gracious Christian commitments. Working in collegiate ministry, I’ve been struck by how many who struggle with faith or have rejected it had negative childhood or teenaged experiences of that faith.
I also was struck with the indeterminacy of the object of her life of prayer. To God, to the spirit in all things, to herself, her Goddess, or even a type of well wishing to others (“sending prayer”)? It seemed all of this at various points. How different from a Christian understanding of knowing that we come freely and boldly to our Father, that we are heard, and that prayer is communing with the lover of our souls.
At the same time I loved the idea of life as prayer, in the language of St. Paul, “living sacrifices.” Cunningham offers an example, albeit multi-faith of living that out that is worth observing and affirming.
Flannery O’Connor wrote of the “Christ-haunted south.” There is a Christ-haunted character to this memoir, with snatches of Jesus’ life, of Episcopal liturgy, the writings of C.S. Lewis, of forms of prayer, and more. It feels like something from which she turned away but that still has a hold on her. I wonder what the author will make of that in time to come.
____________________
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher through Librarything’s Early Reviewers Program for review.
February 1, 2024
[stopped at page 56] On the surface of things, one would expect that the story of a 'child of the manse' (as we Presbyterians refer to PKs) and her spiritual pilgrimage would have strong appeal for this particular reader. Such, alas, is not the case. Perhaps it's simply a matter of the right book at the wrong time...? But other unopened books (crying out from my groaning TBR shelves) are begging my attention...
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews