In Union with God

Praying with Christ and the Church

Religion is a personal thing; religion, whether we realize it or not, lies in the depths of all beings.

    When did we, as Christians, first become aware of it? Do any of us really know?

    When did we begin to yearn to know Jesus better? Or, have we truly arrived at that point yet.

    When did we begin to realize (if we indeed have) that we were caught up in the irreversible process of falling in love with Christ?

    We can see how personal a thing this is — falling in love with Christ. No one else knows how much, or how deeply, or if at all, each one of us is engaged in this experience. It is between each one of us and God. This is the core of our prayer life.

    In our public prayers, each individual’s mind is, all by itself, aware in some way of the presence of God. Yet, in neither our private nor our public prayers, are we ever actually alone with God. This sounds contradictory — but not really. In our public prayers, even though we are in a crowd of people all saying the same words together, each of our individual minds, exclusive of all the other people around us, reaches out to the presence of God. Yet, when we do pray in private, with no one else around, we are still a part of the whole church, a part

of the Body of Christ, and so our private prayers (and I might add unhurried prayers) are a part of the Body of Christ and His church.

     At prayer our contact with God may be in a mild sort of way, or in an absent-minded way, or it may be in a fervent ecstasy — but it must be done individually — from me to God and each other person to God; in the privacy of our own thoughts and feelings, whether we are actually alone or in a gathering of worshipers.

    In our Franciscan office of twelve Our Fathers, twelve Hail Marys, and twelve Glories to the Father, we have first, the prayer Christ personally gave us, the “Our Father;” then we have the “Hail Mary,” the first half of which comes from St. Luke's gospel;[1] and we have the “Glory be to the Father.” I don't know how many people have ever thought of the beauty and the perfection of the “Glory Be…” It asks nothing — just bursts forth in a simple cry of adoration and love to the Holy Trinity.

     At all times, throughout the day and night we can have the spirit of prayer in our lives. We do this, as we know, by offering our every act and every moment as a prayer to God. We must try to make our every act such that God will want to accept it. If we really try to do this, our prayer day is off to a good start.

     St. Francis was so close to God that St. Thomas of Celano said of him, “he became a living prayer.”

     We think we are a long way from being a living prayer; but are we, if we are trying and succeeding in becoming more and more aware of the presence of God in our daily lives. However, word prayers are not complete unless we back them up with action. We can tell God we love Him — but that isn't enough.

     Jesus said, “Not everyone who says to me ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the Kingdom of Heaven. But only the one who does the will of My Father in Heaven.”[2]

     We have to show God we love Him as well as tell Him. How do we do this? We do it in our relationship with other people; in our work; in our play; in our speech; in our silences; in our public prayer; in our private prayer; at home and wherever we go from morning to night. This is it. This is trying to become a living prayer.

     We include in this our own personal private prayer, a patterned prayer, not out loud but a ready-made one such as an “Our Father” or a “Hail Mary” said here and there as is our practice or where opportunity affords throughout the day.  Or, it can be a mental prayer. 

     Mental prayer is our own, out of our mind and in our own words to God. It can be wordless. This is the best private prayer because it is personal, out of our hearts straight to God in a friendly, informal conversation, simple, full of truth, full of trust and full of pleasure in God’s presence.

     Jesus said, “When you pray, go into your inner room, close your door and pray to your Father in secret.”[3] This is wonderful way and we should do it.  We could start this practice by setting aside a ten or fifteen minute period, preferably at the same time each day, when we could go to our room and shut the door, or be alone somewhere with God.

    Alone then, we may place ourselves in His presence. We may make ourselves aware that He is there with us. Then, we may, in a simple way, start to converse with Him. We could tell Him we love Him and all the things we did today — the good things, the pleasant things, and the unpleasant things. Did we offer them up to him in union with His sufferings and death? Did we offer them for sinners or His beloved souls?  If not, tell him we wish we had thought of it, but since we didn't, would he accept our offer now? Tell him of the wrong things we did and tell him how sorry we are and will he please be present in our day, all the rest of it, so we will not do anything else of which he would not approve. Ask Him to come and sit down and eat dinner with the family when the time comes to eat. Jesus liked to eat with his friends when he was on earth.

     Each of us, in our mental prayer, will have to work out our own way of talking to Jesus. Picture Him sitting right there with you as though he were a living person you can see. Pause now and then and listen and give him a chance to say something. He may do so, not in so many words, but somehow he will get through to us. At an unexpected moment we may “feel” or sense a message from Him.

     These few minutes alone with Christ can grow to be a very happy experience. It can cause us to go forth rejoicing the rest of our day or as St. Paul so beautifully put it, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, as in all wisdom you teach and admonish one another, singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God.”[4]

     Here is another example of how you could start a prayer period; you could begin the “Our Father” and stop, and think of each word, one by one. “Father.” what are the connotations of the word, “Father?”...  Truth ...  trust ...   strength ... security ...  protection ...  love ... Providence. Quickly then, raise these thoughts up to the omnipotence and omniscience of God — our Father — our God! I am His child. Why, because He wanted it that way. He asked me and I should respond, “I want it, too.” With gratitude and my heart beating with love for you, my Father, I accept. I will be your child! Why do you want me? I am so insignificant, so meek, so nothing — why do you want me? I don't know why, but you know why and I accept — “…not what I will but what you will.”[5]

     And so we could go on with whatever thoughts we might have — each one of us in our own conversation with Jesus. It is, absolutely, our own little private visit with Jesus; Jesus and I, two friends, two people in love with one another, alone together, saying secrets to each other; it can be so beautiful. It can bring Christ from something believed in, but vague and nebulous and far, far away, right down to a living, breathing, alive Person.

     A long, cut-and-dried list of prayers for each day, to be plowed through hurriedly from beginning to end, is a big No!

     A short and concise “quickie,” tossed off from time to time from our heart to His living Presence, is a big Yes!

     To conclude, how about something like this to make Christ an inseparable part of your life: 

Jesus, will you accept the beat of my heart —

every single beat, every day and every night, all the

rest of my life, as a message of love from me to you?”

    Could anything be more simple — just the rhythmic beat-beat-beat of a heart, tapping out wordless words of love to Jesus... On and on and on ... even when we are asleep.

    Or, you could make up your own special prayer, He would like that.

     “My God and My All!” was St. Francis' favorite prayer — five little words, brimming with meaning — “My God and My All.” Can anyone top that for personal prayer?