prayer

Will and Temptation

prayerIt’s far too late for this little girl to be heading to bed, but in these last few days of summer vacation, we’ve grown lax.

We kneel for evening prayers, and I think of something Father L said to me today during confession, and it gives me an idea.

“In the name of the Father and of the Son,” we begin, already falling into that rhythm that shows we aren’t really thinking about what we’re saying. We begin, and as we pray “Thy will be done,” I stop L.

“What’s something you can do to help make this come about, to help bring about God’s will on Earth?” L shrugs, so I clarify: “What is God? He’s love, right? So to fulfill God’s will, we must love. So what’s something you could do to help fulfill that?”

She thinks for a moment. “Not yell at E,” she replies confidently. We all do it: we get frustrated or worried with what the little two-year-old bundle of fascination and excitement is about to do, see potential disaster (or sometimes actual disaster), and call out, “E!” He heads for furniture with a drill: “E!” He snaps the head off a doll: “E!” So L and I talk about how we should all take that to heart.

Returning to the prayer: “and lead us not into temptation.” Time for reteaching: “What are we sometimes tempted to do, something that really goes against God’s will of love?”

“Yell at E.”

That seems to be the key to meaningful prayer for a seven-year-old: connect it to real life, make it simple, and reinforce. Sort of like teaching in the classroom…

Work as Prayer

Benedictine spirituality sees work as a kind of prayer. The rule of Benedict teaches that, through daily, mundane work, we can achieve holiness. Like so many holy orders of so many other religions, Benedictines from the beginning understood the beauty of the simple life. Theirs is an asceticism not only of the body but of the mind as well.

I thought of these things this evening as I was puttering about the kitchen, cleaning up after K went to bed, emptying the dishwasher, wiping off the counters, drying the remaining dishes that had been sitting in the sink drying rack. I continued wondering how work might be prayer as I went upstairs and, on an odd whim, pulled out the ironing board and iron. K earlier in the evening had expressed a certain frustration at how things in the house tend to build up: our to-do list seems always to be expanding, rarely if ever contracting. But if work is somehow prayer, I thought, that means we have paths to holiness all around us.

Yet that helped very little: how exactly is pressing a heated piece of metal against fabric to steam out the wrinkles in any way prayer? It occurred to me that it might be a question of re-framing what “prayer” means. Growing up in a decidedly non-Catholic home, I always had a very strict and limiting view of what prayer was or could be, and it make the Catholic notion of prayer seem somehow foreign. Marian devotion and prayers to saints were most decidedly and perversely wrong. But the Protestant notion of prayer might be closer to the Catholic notion of worship, and so Catholics through the centuries have had a broader view of what prayer is than Protestants.

Yet that still didn’t help me understand how work might be prayer until I began thinking about motivation. I’d purposely put most of K’s clothes on the top of the to-iron pile because I was doing it for her, to help her feel a little less behind, and it seemed somehow silly to be ironing my own clothes. “I helped you out by ironing my shirts and pants.” It just seems somehow unseemly, arrogant.

Work in some sense then can be prayer through having a selfless motivation for work. Perhaps that’s a first step in understanding Benedictine spirituality. Or perhaps it’s just late night rambling of someone who should have been in bed some time ago.

God of Gas

Effective use of knee time.

Forget Congress. Forget President Bush. About four months ago, frustrated by the apparently immutable laws of supply and demand, Rocky Twyman turned to a higher authority in his quest for cheaper gasoline.

The recent dip in prices, he says, is proof of divine intervention.

“Prayer is the answer to every problem in life,” said Twyman, founder of the Pray at the Pump movement, whose members huddle around gas pumps and ask the Almighty to lower gasoline prices.

Group gives thanks to the Lord — for lower gasoline prices – Los Angeles Times