The few thoughts I've gathered here on the subject of prayer are simply a reflection of my own personal perspective and experience. To begin with, I believe in the power of prayer as part of the formula for salvation; the other component being good works. For those of you who might remember, the Baltimore Catechism defined prayer as "...the lifting up of our minds and hearts to God to adore Him, to thank Him for His benefits, to ask His forgiveness, and to beg of Him all the graces we need whether for soul or body." But it taught us also that prayer was the only source of God's grace except for the Sacraments. And that's how I thought of it for many years.
Wasn't that doctrine somewhat misleading? What about the graces we receive when we reach out physically and emotionally to those in pain or in need? That kind of outreach must be at least as effective as prayer. In fact I'm open to the possibility that it's actually another form of prayer -- a very powerful one at that.
My so-called prayer life used to be, for the most part, formal -- recitations in church, in my parochial school classes, and at home. My mother had a ritual that she repeated every day: the rosary, prayers to the Blessed Mother, the Infant Jesus of Prague, and to various and sundry saints. I can still see the crucifix on her bedroom wall, and the array of statues on her dresser, each containing traces of red lipstick, the result of many, many kisses. I think a kiss always followed the Amen. If I were nearby, I would often join with her in reciting some of the prayers and litanies. My favorite was the Memorare, a prayer to Mary. "Never was it known," it said, "that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession, was left unaided." Wow -- powerful stuff -- it virtually guaranteed that your petition would be granted!
When I entered the Army at the age of 18, away from family, church and school for the first time, prayer took on a whole new form for me. Formal readings and recitations gave way to very informal conversations with God, which could occur anywhere at any time, in any place. And I liked this new arrangement. There were many lonely moments when I found a great deal of comfort in talking to my new "friend". As a matter of fact, I still do.
As an example, each day, as I take my morning walk, the first thing I do is "stop and smell the roses." Rarely are such sensory delights actually within range, but regardless of the time of year or the weather, there's always a sky to marvel at. That's where I begin, I guess, because as a child that's where I imagined He lived. There are always trees, grass, birds, squirrels, rabbits, and occasionally, deer. Sometimes I even encounter people, mostly of my generation, but sometimes children, if their school bus happens to be running late. I see all of these creations as miracles of nature, and strong reminders of God's presence. And I thank and praise Him for granting me the privilege of enjoying them still another day.
I walk at other times during the day and evening as well, but it's never like the morning -- the glorious morning. Then it's as if the Creator and I are the only ones sharing those precious moments.
Visiting a church or chapel that is literally or virtually empty is another way for me to feel close to God. Again it's He and I, sharing the peace, His peace, I guess. But it's just us. It's here that I can talk to Him, one on one, and it never occurs to me that millions of others might be talking to Him at the same moment. And I know in my heart that He hears me. He might not answer me directly, or perhaps not at all, but that's OK. He knows better than I what's good for me.
My prayers as I grow older are mostly about being thankful for what I have, my wife and family, my friends, my health -- than about asking for what I don't have. I feel truly blessed, and it would seem to me arrogant and greedy to ask for anything more in the way of worldly goods. So I give thanks for what we have, and pray for the future of our children and grandchildren, that they and all the children of the world might live in peace.
To sum up, I believe each of us can establish a personal relationship with God through private, informal prayer; and the opportunities for it are there every day. Once we believe that He's there and listening, the rest is easy. Trust in Him, as you do a friend.
And it's not that I don't appreciate the power of communal prayer and worship, I truly do, but for me it doesn't replace the one-on-one connection.
As a footnote, and just to prove that old habits die hard, there's still one formal prayer that I cling to. It's grace before meals, and it doesn't matter whether I'm alone or with my family. I don't think it's such a bad habit, either.
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1 comment:
That's a beautifully written piece Dad.
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