This book has a lot in common with "The Prophet." Rather than being written by an early-20th-century Lebanese-American poet, this one was written by a late-seventeenth-century French monk.
They are definitely not the same book, don't get me wrong, but reading them back to back has illuminated the connections between them. I still hold to my statement that "Practice... etc." is one of my Ur-Texts, while "The Prophet" is not.
I) Formal Similarities: Retelling
"The Prophet" works as a series of poetic/philosophical monologues, each prompted by a question from a citizen of Orphalese, whence the titular prophet is preparing to depart.
"The Practice of the Presence of God" engages in a similar sort of framing: rather than the townspeople inquiring of the soon-to-depart prophet, Father Joseph de Beaufort informs us of his conversations with the already-departed Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection.
This distancing paradoxically gives weight to the accounts; while historians value the primary source, literary myths gain value from repetition. Thus, the fact that the sayings of the prophet and Brother Lawrence are coming to us "second hand" (metaphorically, in Gibran's case, and more literally in Joseph de Beaufort's) makes them more credible.
II) Content Similarities: The Smallness of Large Things
"Practice... etc." is about the smallness of large things; or rather, of the largest of things, God. Though he lives in a convent, Brother Lawrence does not report of finding God at prayer times; indeed: "The time of business does not with me differ from the time of prayer, and in the noise and clatter of my kitchen, while several persons are at the same time calling for different things, I possess God in as great tranquility as if I were upon my knees at the blessed sacrament."
So, too "The Prohpet" sacralizes the mundane. Each citizen asks a question relating to his or her daily pursuits, and the prophet shares the spiritual resonances of that thing, just as Brother Lawrence creates/participates in the sacrament of the washing of the pans.
I had trouble, while typing this, deciding whether to call this idea "the smallness of large things" or "the largeness of small things." On the surface, they sound synonymous, but they accent different parts. I chose the one I chose because these books are not, for example, about making the washing of dishes great, but rather finding the greatness in the washing of dishes. Thus, the smallness of the large things (general spirituality in "The Prohpet," and a Catholic/Christian conception of God in "Practice... etc.) is revealed. It is not only in the large place ("upon my knees at the blessed sacrament") where the largest thing can be found, but also in the smallest place ("in the noise and clatter of my kitchen").
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