CCCIV – On Praying Well

There are a lot of different ways one can pray, and it is good to pray in whatever ways suit you at the time that you decide to pray. Prayer is never wasted. But oftentimes I am tempted to mistake quantity of prayer for quality of prayer.

When I converted to Catholicism in 2018, the newest thing for me to learn was all the formulaic prayers the Church offers. Because my mind is so busy, the formulaic prayers helped provide some structure where before my prayers amounted to vague grasping and occasionally falling into the trap of treating God like Santa: “I’ve been good this year so can I please have a promotion at work?”

The formula prayers provided structure, but something that I needed was feeling. It is easy to pray, it is hard to pray well. I think that is why Silent prayer was such a powerful thing for me–it was all relationship and not so much supplication. It was opening a space in my mind for God.

I’ve been thinking about this because recently I fell into the trap that I was praying formulaic prayers often but not really spending time talking to God. What shook me out of it was I was upset about something and was despairing and thinking “Who can I talk to” and I looked at the crucifix in my room and was immediately struck by “Why wouldn’t I talk to Him?”

Oddly enough–after that the first thing I did was not get on my knees and start listing a litany of requests to God but rather I prayed the Rosary. The Rosary was effective for me in that moment because it was formulaic, so in my despair I didn’t have to think, I just had to do. It is also meditative, in contemplating the mysteries of our Lord’s life, death, and resurrection. These mysteries help me understand how Christ can be an example for me in the circumstances of my life.

As always with this kind of spiritual advice, your mileage may vary. The important thing with this article is that you do, in fact, pray. Perhaps you are like me and need a reminder that you also should try to pray well.

AMDG

CCCIII – Reflections on the Sorrowful Mysteries

I. The Agony in the Garden

It occurs to me that, through the sorrowful mysteries, Christ is giving us an example of suffering. The Agony in the Garden was not only for the purpose of giving us an example, but certainly achieves that among other things. The Agony in the Garden, to me, is an example for us of suffering in silence and solitude. Oftentimes when we feel we are suffering–especially when we are suffering in a uniquely individual way–we are tempted to try and make it public suffering, even as Christ turned to Peter, James, and John and asked them to stay awake with him. But they could not–his suffering was perhaps not relatable to them. It was too personal–they could appreciate in the abstract but not with a vividness that kept them from falling asleep. When we are suffering silently, and alone, Christ shows us that the best thing to do is to bear our suffering worthily, and to offer it to God.

II. The Scourging at the Pillar

The scourging at the Pillar is an example of Public suffering. Christ bore the scourging even though it was unjust, even though it was public, even though it was brought on by the false accusations of his own countrymen. I think of the Scourging at the Pillar sometimes when I am enduring rebukes received justly or unjustly. Notice, though, how the Agony in the Garden and the Scourging at the Pillar are two different kinds of suffering. The Agony was a kind of spiritual suffering, Christ was enduring something mysterious and beyond human comprehension that made Him sweat blood. The Scourging was a physical suffering imposed from without, which we can see and which leaves physical wounds on His holy body. Enduring the scourging worthily–commending it to God, and keeping His silence–is what we should remember when we are suffering likewise.

III. The Crowning with Thorns

The Crowning with Thorns is an example of ridicule and humiliation. Christ was crowned, you recall, by the Roman soldiers, and they swatted the crown with reeds to further inflict wounds on him and laugh at him. In the same series of events, they hailed him as “King of the Jews” and mocked him to his face–I believe this is when they created the sign which you see on some depictions of the crucifix, abbreviated “INRI” which translated to English reads “Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews”. This sorrowful mystery is an example of suffering whose wounds are inflicted by others, but which wound us mentally–perhaps one could draw symbolism from the fact that the Thorns were placed on Christ’s head and He was only wounded there. Ridicule, Mockery, humiliation–these are things which we only fear when we are attached to the world.

IV. The Carrying of the Cross

We must pick up our cross and follow Him–it means enduring our suffering over time, for long periods of time, through our life until we arrive at the final point of our suffering. The Carrying of the Cross reminds us that Christ did not merely endure momentary suffering but he endured it for a long walk, during which he fell three times. We may be fortunate enough to endure our suffering with a friend, like Simon of Cyrene who helped carry Christ’s cross. But ultimately the Cross is built for one, and we must endure it however long it lasts.

V. The Crucifixion of our Lord, Jesus Christ

Christ bore His sufferings unto death, the same fate that awaits us all, though our crosses take different forms. No two people suffer the same crosses, but Christ shows us that we can sanctify our suffering by enduring them worthily, and that if we do endeavor to endure them worthily, the glory of the Resurrection awaits us.

AMDG

(l) – Hypothetical Rosary

I’ve been thinking a lot about the end times, for some reason. It’s a dangerous subject because I can brood on it for weeks–prior to discovering the Catholic faith, it had the potential to throw me into a depression.

I’ve got an article coming about Matthew 24 which deals chiefly with Christ’s own description of the eschaton. From there I got to thinking about the second coming, and how Christ’s first coming, as a poor, peasant slave, is kind of like the tv show “under-cover Boss”–and when he comes again in his true Glory, He will undo all the sorrows of the crucifixion.

Which made me think, wouldn’t it be neat if the Second Coming took the Sorrowful mysteries and glorified them? Therein lies this Hypothetical Rosary of the Mysteries of the Second Coming:

  • The First Mystery: The re-creation of the Garden
  • The Second Mystery: The toppling of the pillars dedicated to false idols
  • The Third Mystery: The crowning with Glory as King of all Creation
  • The Fourth Mystery: The glorification and resurrection of the righteous
  • The Fifth Mystery: Christ takes his seat at the right hand of the Father, on His throne

This is quite obviously a work of fiction, with creative liberties taken with what I imagine might happen during the second coming, if they “reversed” the sorrowful mysteries. I hope it is food for fruitful thought, if nothing else.

AMDG

CCVII – Deeper Prayer

I’ve been thinking a lot about prayer lately, which perhaps is appropriate given the lenten season. Silent prayer has been working for me because it has helped me to quiet my noisy brain and helped me make a space there for God. God has been working in my life in the way that He feels I most need it.

But there are other kinds of prayer that are less silent. The one in particular I have been trying to invest in is the Rosary. I have trouble with the Rosary because it requires my engagement verbally or mentally. Let me put it this way:

My brain is like muddy water. Whenever I pray silently, the water is calm and eventually the muddy thoughts will settle to the bottom and I can think clearly. This process takes as much time and patience in my mind as it would with an actual jar of muddy water–it is painstaking. When I pray the Rosary, it is almost like I am stirring in a regular pattern, so my mind never reaches that clear contemplative state that has been so fruitful for me in Silent prayer. I can think about the mysteries but a tremendous amount of my focus is on the act of praying itself. My goal is to go deeper into prayer but that made me think two mutually exclusive things: First–how? The way my brain works, I could spend 15-20 minutes waiting for my mind to settle and then begin the Rosary; my second thought was–just do that.

There was a quote or a discussion I had, I can’t remember where I heard it or who said it, but it was something to the effect that Prayer has levels: First we learn to pray the words, then we learn what the words mean, then we believe them. I feel like I am stuck between the second and third level because I can’t settle my mind long enough to contemplate the mysteries.

To be clear, it is never a bad thing to pray the Rosary, it’s just going deeper into this prayer that takes effort and practice. And I come back to this thought: if I need to spend 20 extra minutes to settle my mind before praying–just do it! But what about other prayers? If I pray an Our Father on my lunch break, should I spend twenty minutes preparing for it?

So I think this gets at what the purpose of prayer is. There are a few different kinds:

  • Aspiration: Short prayers we say to strengthen us throughout the day and to turn our attention to God.
  • Contemplation: This is the kind of praying I am talking about when I refer to Silent prayer. It is more listening to God than talking to him.
  • Vocal: This is prayer where we are talking to God either in our minds or vocally, sometimes when we are asked to pray publicly we will use this method as well. In my experience this prayer is used to lift our human concerns up to God.
  • Rote: These are the written or memorized prayers that The Church has given us, including the Rosary, the Psalms and other scripture, the Our Father, the Divine Praises, etc. These seem to me to be for turning our attention to God. I have taped a copy of the Divine Praises on my computer monitor and when I am struggling during the day for whatever reason. I will pray it in order to return my thoughts to God, away from whatever is troubling me.
  • Active: This is a whole separate category but I didn’t want to exclude it. Our actions can be prayers if we include God in them. Iconography is prayer-through-art. For example, my priest suggested I make putting on my Covid Mask a prayer of obedience.

The Rosary connects many of these concepts into one act of prayer. Perhaps one way I can go deeper into prayer with the Rosary is to remember intentionally what my purpose of praying is for. If I want to be contemplative, I can spend that 20 extra minutes and meditate longer on the mysteries. If I need to turn my attention to God and away from mere earthly concerns, I can pray it vocally. If I want to bring God into my prayer as an activity, I can pray actively. This gets at a theme that has been popping up in my life recently of intentionality.

Having written all this, I think this will help me think about my prayer in a more constructive way. If you have any tips and tricks for your prayer life, please share them!

AMDG

LXXXIX – Lukemas

Happy Lukemas! Today is the feast day of St. Luke, my patron. I took St. Luke as my patron for a few reasons:

  • He is the patron of historians
  • I enjoy his Gospel, as well as Acts of the Apostles, the most.
  • My Anglican parish where I was confirmed was St. Luke’s, so it’s a little hat-tip to my patrimony.

Side note of interesting trivia: St. Luke and St. Paul are frequently used for Anglican parishes. I couldn’t figure out why, so on looking it seems that there’s a common belief that Sts Luke and Paul spent time in Britannia, but I can’t tell if that’s apocryphal. Apparently when Augustine of Canterbury arrived, they already knew the name of God though had not been (fully?) converted.

Nevertheless, St. Luke is venerated today. He does not have many official devotions, so here are a few of my invention.

Since St. Luke’s iconographic symbol is a bull, I like to have a big steak. Since today is Friday, I will forego that luxury but perhaps move that feast to this weekend.

The 18th of October is also just over 40 days from the beginning of Advent. The more important devotion I’ve been doing for a few years now is Lukeslent. It functions similarly to lent, prescribing some penance for yourself. I choose to use this time to cultivate a daily rosary habit. The Hail Mary, as you may know, comes from St. Luke’s Gospel. Because it leads into Advent so nicely, I consider it a good time of preparation before the new liturgical year. Close the year out strong!

Please join me, if not in 40 days of prayerful penance, in celebrating my personal patron and one of the great Evangelists, St. Luke.

St. Luke, Pray for us!