|:A reflection on :| prayer

The highest good is prayer and conversation with God, because it means that we are in God’s company and in union with him. When light enters our bodily eyes our eyesight is sharpened; when a soul is intent on God, God’s inextinguishable light shines into it and makes it bright and clear. I am talking, of course, of prayer that comes from the heart and not from routine: not the prayer that is assigned to particular days or particular moments in time, but the prayer that happens continuously by day and by night. - A homily of pseudo-Chrysostom

I rebel against this, at first reading.  Certainly, the deep prayer in the quiet time of day set aside for it does more to deepen my walk with the Lord, right?  And yet there is a truth here, that the continual awareness of and attentiveness to God's presence with us brings powerful transformation of our lives as we walk moment-by-moment.  And yet the first may be a prerequisite for the second.  How do I learn to hear the voice of God throughout my life?  Is it not only by listening, harkening to it in specific, designated times of prayer?  If I fail to train my ears to hear him by such practice, I might mistake any robber's voice for that of my Shepherd.

I'm reminded of an exchange I just had with a friend, and of a reflection by a renowned Protestant evangelist and teacher, Oswald Chambers.

First, my friend is trying to teach her son of the importance of doing his repetitive math homework, even though he thoroughly understands the concepts and aces the tests.  Beyond the issue of being evaluated on these assignments is the self-discipline he must develop to be prepared for the day when he needs such reinforcement to truly master a subject.  It's hard to convey this to a young person, but that term "discipline" is of course rooted in the idea of being a disciple, one who applies himself to the following of a person or a way.  There is, of course, no greater discipleship than to follow Christ, and all other self-discipline we learn serves us well in this greatest one.

In one of the daily reflections in My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers reflects on our expectation that we'll just somehow be ready to pray and make holy choices when the large matters come along. He says this is akin to an army trying to build its munitions in the trenches.  The disciplines of prayer and sanctified living must be developed before the battle, or the battle will be lost while we're building our weapons.

Indeed the soul should not only turn to God at times of explicit prayer. Whatever we are engaged in, whether it is care for the poor, or some other duty, or some act of generosity, we should remember God and long for God. The love of God will be as salt is to food, making our actions into a perfect dish to set before the Lord of all things. - ibid.

What a wonderful analogy.  It isn't just that our dedicated times of prayer and communion with God should direct our actions of social outreach.  Rather, an awareness of and focus on God's presence even during the labor will enrich what we strive to do, and make it even truer that our work is a matter of God working through us.

Prayer is the light of the soul, true knowledge of God, a mediator between God and men. Prayer lifts the soul into the heavens where it hugs God in an indescribable embrace. The soul seeks the milk of God like a baby crying for the breast. It fulfils its own vows and receives in exchange gifts better than anything that can be seen or imagined. - ibid.

We often think of prayer as a means to an end, that the purpose of communing with God in prayer is to change us, to motivate us to do what he asks of us, to make the world a better place as a result.  No, these things are but glorious side effects of the greatest good of God himself.  There is nothing greater that we can receive or achieve than God, and communing with God is its own end, which also and inevitably brings about these visible blessings that others see and are thereby brought to their own greatest good of encountering God for themselves.

I warn you, though: do not imagine that prayer is simply words. Prayer is the desire for God, an indescribable devotion, not given by man but brought about by God’s grace. - ibid.

And therefore by grace we are led to ask for grace.  It is the movement of the Holy Spirit - God - who draws us into Christ - God - to the glory of the Father - God.

If God gives to someone the gift of such prayer, it is a gift of imperishable riches, a heavenly food that satisfies the spirit. Whoever tastes that food catches fire and his soul burns for ever with desire for the Lord. - ibid.

"For ever," but only so long as we continue to desire this food rather than the lesser things that we mistake for it.  When we become content to satisfy ourselves with lesser nourishment, we atrophy for lack of the true nutrition our souls need.

To begin on this path, start by adorning your house with modesty and humility. Make it shine brightly with the light of justice. Decorate it with the gold leaf of good works, with the jewels of faithfulness and greatness of heart. Finally, to make the house perfect, raise a gable above it all, a gable of prayer. Thus you will have prepared a pure and sparkling house for the Lord. Receive the Lord into this royal and splendid dwelling — in other words: receive, by his grace, his image into the temple of your soul. - ibid.

My goodness.  What a tremendous reflection!  I've quoted nearly the whole of it, and want to just soak in it! I'd forgotten what riches were in the Hours during these early days of Lent!