A legacy of prayer

 

It’s a human desire to want meaning in our lives and our deaths.  We want to make a difference, and to leave a legacy behind.  A legacy which has been passed down in my family for generations, and which I hope to pass on to my children and grandchildren is the comfort and power of true prayer.

Prayer, of course, is much more than saying prayers.  It’s not only saying the rosary, or meditating upon Scripture, or reciting beautifully composed prayers.  Prayer is ultimately a relationship with God.  It’s an encounter with the Triune God Who dwells within us.  True prayer is an act of love between us and our Beloved.  It’s an exchange of persons: our life for God’s.  Prayer is an act of union and communion by which we become one with God and God becomes one with us.

The great mystics have taught us that there are many levels to prayer. We often begin with the recitation of prayers, such as the beautiful prayer of the rosary.  From there we meditate, ponder and reflect deeply upon the mysteries of our Lord and His life.  We come to know Him more fully and, little by little, discover that we’re no longer just thinking about God, but we’re gazing at Him face to face.

One of the most important parts of true prayer is that it takes place deep in the inner room of our soul.  It’s there in the inner depths of our being that we will meet God.  Saint Teresa of Ávila, one of the greatest spiritual writers in the history of our Church, described the soul as a castle in which God dwells.  Meeting Him, praying to Him and communing with Him requires that we enter into the deepest and innermost chamber within this castle of our soul.  It’s there, in the innermost dwelling, that the full glory and beauty of God is discovered.

God isn’t just a God who is “out there” far away in Heaven.  He’s a God Who is closer and more intimate than we could ever imagine.  Lent is a time, more than any other time of the year, when we must strive to make that journey inward so as to discover the Indwelling of the Most Holy Trinity.

What does God want of us this Lent?  It’s easy to begin Lent with more superficial commitments, such as giving up a favorite food or doing an extra good deed.  Some choose to use Lent as a time to get in better physical shape, and others decide to dedicate more time to spiritual reading or other holy exercises.  All of this is good and useful.  But the deepest desire of our Lord for us this Lent (and always!) is that we pray.

We’re told not to receive the grace of God in vain.  While some of us may be called to do so, that doesn’t mean we have to proselytize on the street corners, or even work for the church.  It doesn’t mean we have to lead fund-raising drives or be in the news.  It certainly doesn’t mean we need to ensure we garner attention and praise for our service or our faith practices.

In fact, more often than not, it means we lead quiet lives focused on being fully transparent instruments of the grace we’ve received.  It means we rend our hearts, not our garments, and allow God to change and mold us.  It means we pray constantly, give alms, and love without measure.  It means we consciously look for the divine in every person, even those who are different from ourselves, and that we treat each one with the dignity and respect due to Christ Himself.  It means we receive our “recognition” in smiles, hugs, and the knowledge that the love we give will be given to someone else in return.

To turn to God is to turn to life. To turn away from God is to turn away from life.  Lent pivots on these two truths, truths we’re all (unfortunately) good at denying.  Lent reminds us that we’re commanded to love God wholeheartedly and our neighbors as ourselves because there’s no other path to life.  But we frequently live and act as if this weren’t the case.  We become experts at self-sabotage because we develop ways of being that pull us further away from all that is life.  We’re miserable.  We’re more dead than alive.  But after a while we see no way to move from death back to life.

The way back to life is surprisingly simple.  A passage from the prophet Joel puts it succinctly: “Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart.” (Joel 2:12-18).  Saint Paul pleads with us, even begs us: “We implore you, in Christ’s name: be reconciled to God!” (2 Corinthians 5:20-6:2).  And the gospel, with its triple warning against performing religious acts in order to be seen, counsels us instead to “go to your room, close your door, and pray to your Father in private,” (Matthew 6:1-18) assuring us that in that quiet, intimate moment we’ll discover what it means to be fully known and fully loved, and, therefore, fully alive.

That’s wonderful news, news worth celebrating.  And so, on this first day of Lent, let the cheering begin!