Saying vs. Praying

By Jean-Christine LeGendre

I am nothing short of amazed by how I can say the same words over and over, day in and day out, year after year--in some cases a lifetime!--yet never fully comprehend their meanings. But the concept of comprehension hadn't even occurred to me until the other day while attending a weekday mass, when one of our priests gave the congregation a very unexpected instruction:

"I want you to stop saying the Our Father," he said, and paused for dramatic effect.

He had my attention, and everyone else's in the chapel by the looks of it. I suspect that was exactly the effect he'd been going for, because he smiled that serene smile of his and cracked a joke about the irony of a priest telling people to stop saying the prayer that Jesus gave us.

"I want you to start praying it." He then proceeded to explain the differences.

And ever since that thought-provoking homily, comprehension seems to have become a running theme in my life.

Like most writers, I'm an avid reader. Since it's par for the course in my world, I realize that reading is something I've come to take for granted. In my fiction work, I write on deadline for a release that's nine months away, which requires reading my first draft before sending to my editor for revision. Typically, as I'm working on that first draft, the line edit for the release that's still six months away shows up at my door to be read. No sooner do I ship that off then the release that's only three months away shows up to be read in galley form--my very last chance to make any changes or catch mistakes. After shipping the galleys back, my editor usually calls with revisions on that first draft, which requires another fresh read after I've made the changes. Add to that proposals to sell future stories, my freelance editing and my non-fiction work . . . my review column alone requires me to read six titles a month.

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I comprehend words . . . so I thought.

Every time I've said Our Lord's prayer recently, the "comprehension homily" as I've dubbed it has come to mind. I've spent some time in reflection about the message, delving a little deeper into each line of a prayer that I've said for a lifetime.

Not deeply enough, apparently.

At Confession a few weeks ago, the priest--not the author of the "comprehension homily"--gave me an interesting penance--reflect on the Act of Contrition, and make the words my own.

Hmm . . . I can do this, I thought, and made special time to reflect. I read scriptures pertaining to those all important first three words of the prayer. O my God . . .

Who exactly is "My God"? Is He the shepherd in Psalm 23 or the father in Matthew 6:9? Is He the friend in John 15:13-15 or the Lord in John 20:26-28? Does He offer the sheltering wings in Ruth 2:12 or the comforting arms in Deuteronomy 33:27? Is He a little of everything to me? Or is He more father than friend? (Thank you, Tricia McCary Rhodes, for writing a wonderful book The Soul at Rest, which provided the perfect place for me to explore this question!)

O my God . . . Three very simple words with a wealth of meaning, I realized while reflecting on each line. I completed my penance and thought, Okay, God, cool. Don't say it, pray it! I get it the idea here . . .

He must have wanted to make sure.

There's another prayer that's come into my repertoire during the past few years. It's called Suscipe, and it was written by the founder of the Jesuit Order, St. Ignatius Loyola. I pray it daily, especially when I'm limited with the amount of time I have to pray. In my mind, it's a natural fit with the Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be. Here's the translation I learned:

Lord Jesus Christ, take all my freedom, my memory, my understanding and my will. All that I have and cherish you have given me. I surrender it all to be guided by your will. Your grace and your love are wealth enough for me. Give me these, Lord Jesus, and I ask for nothing more.

So just yesterday I'm praying--at least I thought I was praying. Lord Jesus Christ, take all my freedom . . . I couldn't remember what came next. My mind simply drew a blank. I could remember sentences farther into the prayer, but those next words simply wouldn't come, not while I was praying or later. And like any good memory lapse, those missing words niggled at my thoughts for the rest of the day. I tried again this morning. Still no good. Exasperated, I finally went back into an old prayer journal where I had originally recorded the prayer to jog my memory. Lord Jesus Christ, take all my freedom, my memory . . .

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Ah, there it was. My memory . . . My memory lapse finally ended, and I was back in action. Yet even though my brain was suddenly filled with this Hide-and-Seek prayer, I couldn't seem to get past those forgotten words.

My memory . . .

Have I been saying this prayer and not praying it? Apparently the time had come to consider that question. I'm surrendering all sorts of stuff to Jesus here, but do I really comprehend what I'm offering to Him?

My memory . . . of what? It took some reflection, but when the answer came, it came clear and hard, no doubt a miracle of inspiration.

My memory of hurts and grievances toward someone in my life.

The meaning here is particularly relevant right now, and I have no doubt God has been preparing me to receive this message for the past few weeks. I also understand the message--I need to surrender these particular hurts to Christ. Just like the prayer says: I surrender it all to be guided by your will. Will He guide me toward forgiveness? Maybe . . . if that's His will. I can ask, and allow Him to work in me.

Praying my prayers instead of saying them seems like a good way to begin.

Contact

Plotglitch, Inc.
https://www.catholic.org FL, US
Jean-Christine LeGendre - Owner, 813 727.7642

Email

plotglitch@juno.com

Keywords

prayer

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