Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time C
On Prayer
Part II: How to Pray
If you’ve ever wondered about the value of Catholic education,
this
story alone should convince you…
Prayer
is a regular part of the school day
for
the children down at Holy Family,
and
that starts even at the end of the hall—in the pre-K.
There,
our youngest students are taught to pray
in
a most ingenious way.
Sure,
they memorize the words of our traditional Catholic prayers
and
can belt them out with gusto.
But
their teacher also tells them that, when they pray,
they
should close their eyes real tight
and
picture Jesus sitting right beside them
with
his arm wrapped around their shoulder.
And
the kids take it very seriously.
Last
year, one little boy went home
and,
when it came time to say his prayers before bed,
told
his mother she’d have to move:
she
was sitting in Jesus’ spot!
Last
week, Fr. Tom and I began our three-part series on prayer
with
the preliminaries:
But
once we’ve made our decision and decided to pray,
once
we’ve cleared the way, setting aside a time and place,
making
prayer a real priority in our day,
what
are we supposed to do?
And
so this week, we’re looking at how to
pray.
To
be honest: the lesson most of us really need
is
the same one given those four-year-olds at Holy Family.
About
a year ago, I guess,
a
parishioner came to me seeking some advice.
He
heard us talking about the Year of Faith,
and
the message was hitting home.
He regularly
came to Mass every Sunday,
but
that was about the extent of his Catholic life.
It
seems he’d spent enough time in the Pharisee’s spot,
justifying
himself and his actions,
and
determined it was time to follow the tax collector’s lead:
humbly
throwing himself on the mercy of God.
So he
returned to confession after a long time away.
He began
to feel the need to pray
beyond
the time he spent at Mass.
I
suggested that he start with the Rosary,
and
he took me up on it.
But
after awhile,
he sensed
that he ought to take things deeper still.
Based
on our discussion, here’s what he did:
I
went to the chapel at St. Joseph’s—he
told me—
since
I knew it’d be quiet there,
and
I pulled up a chair real close to the tabernacle.
And
I just started to talk to Jesus like you said, Fr. Joe.
I
talked about my thoughts and feelings,
made
apologies and requests.
I
unloaded everything, and was completely honest.
I
must have talked straight for 15 minutes.
And
then—since you said I should also listen—
I
stayed real quiet for five minutes or so.
I
tried not to focus on anything in particular.
That’s
when I heard a voice.
It
sounded like my own inner voice,
but
it was saying something
I
hadn’t at all been thinking about.
It
said, “If you’re sitting here
whispering
to a loaf of bread,
then
you’re a crazy person!”
Jesus
had never before revealed himself directly to me,
and
now he was doing so with a sense of humor—
which
I really appreciate.
He
wanted me to know, Father, that he’s really there.
What
a difference it made!
Talking
to Jesus personally
has
made grace more obvious to me.
I
can feel God giving me the help I need,
since
I don’t have the willpower on my own.
And
it has improved my sense of self-worth.
I
must be worth something for my Savior to speak to me!
At
first, speaking personally to Jesus
was
awkward—really awkward!
But
it gets easier and more natural.
Now,
I speak to Jesus every morning after my Rosary
and
every evening before bed.
I
don’t always get such a clear response.
But
because he’s already let me know
that
he’s there and that he’s listening,
it
doesn’t matter.
I
have someone to go to who will always be there.
That’s
a huge comfort.
At
first, this notion of prayer can seem a bit simplistic, even naïve.
Is it really that easy? Just a matter of talking and listening?
But
none other than St. Teresa of Avila,
a
Doctor of the Church noted for her writings on prayer, says:
Prayer in my opinion is nothing else
than
a close sharing between friends;
it
means taking time frequently to be alone with him
who
we know loves us.
Prayer
is all about working on a relationship.
It’s
an ongoing conversation,
and
the conversation will undoubtedly deepen
as
we get more familiar with each other over time.
Think
of it this way:
the
decision to pray is like “making a date” with God.
Once
we know when and where we plan to meet,
we
need to consider what we’re going to talk about.
Traditional
prayers said from memory
are
like the standard formulas we use for polite conversation
with
someone we’ve just met:
“Hello. How are you?” “Oh, I’m fine. Do
you come here often?”
But
a relationship can’t get very far
if
the conversation stops there!
And
so we need to open up and be honest.
We
mustn’t be hollow and puffed with pride, like the Pharisee,
as
if we need to impress God;
instead,
we must be genuine and straightforward—
like
the tax collector—
even
when the truth isn’t so pretty.
Note
that the tax collector’s words are very few;
it’s
not their number, but their sincerity, that counts.
There
are times—
especially
when we’re under stress, or tired, or in doubt—
when
we can’t find the words with which to pray,
and
so we turn to traditional prayers we first memorized as children.
But
there are also times when our own words
are
really the only appropriate ones.
And
then there are times when any words at all
will
only get in the way.
Much
better—of course—for our heart to be without words
than
for our words to be without heart.
(cf. J.
Bunyan)
As
Jesus reminded us and all his disciples last Sunday,
we need to pray, to persevere in prayer,
to
“pray always without becoming weary.”
It’s
not a matter of keeping the rules,
but
of deepening a relationship.
It’s
not about checking something off the list,
but
about checking in with your nearest and dearest friend.
So
slide over on the bed.
Move
that chair closer to the tabernacle.
Jesus
is real and very near.
Open
your heart. Speak with humility.
And
then…be sure to listen.
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