PRAY

We exist by prayer as we exist by breathing

Prayer can be and should be as natural as breathing—for we were made to pray just as we were made to breathe. The Bible tells us that in the beginning, God gently lifted the formless clay of the earth, cherished it lovingly, then kissed it and breathed life into it (Genesis 2.7). Prayer then is the experience of this tender intimacy, this reunion with the One who made us and loves us and who sustains us still by the Divine Breath.

Whether we know it or not, we exist by prayer just as we exist by breathing—God’s prayer for us and the prayer of our heart, which is always praying with each and every breath, each and every beating of our heart. Whether we’re mindful or not of this praying doesn’t matter.

Prayer is.

And without prayer—the sacred relationship shared by Creator and creation—things simply would not be.

Prayer is . . .

Prayer is universal.  At all times in history and in all places, people have sought the Divine and uttered some kind of prayer.  Prayer is the yearning of life; it is a desire for the Source, the unending Fountain of life. Prayer not only is this yearning, it is a finding.

In prayer we come home to God, we dwell with and in the One who is life (John 1.4).

Prayer helps you stay put in the present

Here is the third in a series relating our thoughts to the practice of unceasing prayer, the intentional awareness of God in each moment. It follows two other posts, The daily thought parade, and Unceasing prayer is no pious exaggeration.

So, standing there, water splashing down upon my head, baptizing me anew, I tried a little experiment. I gathered all these thoughts down into my heart. I made my heart a sanctuary and invited my mind to come to full attention before Jesus Christ. From that center, the chapel of my heart—where that ruffian horde of preoccupations and distractions were no longer in charge—I simply gave myself to the moment. I reveled in the clean smell of lavender soap, the holiness of nakedness, the too-easily-missed glory of thousands of little beads of water, reflecting the morning’s light, running in golden rivulets down the glass door of my shower stall. It was prayer. I was ecstatic, alive to the goodness of God, to God above all, and to myself, fully present to it all.

The command to “pray without ceasing” is not an exaggeration or an experience only for monks and mountain mystics. All of us think without ceasing . . . no exceptions. The mind never shuts off. And if that’s true, we can pray without ceasing. For at heart, prayer helps us to take charge of our thoughts. Prayer helps us resist being defined by our thoughts. Prayer helps us stay put in the present, in real life, alert to the seductions of those thoughts that want to carry us away into illusion, fantasy, and anxiety. Alert to God, we draw those ruffians down into the chapel of the heart where they swear their allegiance to Jesus Christ, and then, put in their rightful place, re-ordered and realigned, our thoughts can do what they are meant to do: help us live life rather than fret over it.

Thinking is as routine as breathing. Spiritual awareness awakens you to the fact that you don’t have to follow your thoughts where they want to lead.

A re-posting from November 11, 2009

Unceasing prayer isn't pious exaggeration

Here’s the second of three posts relating our thoughts to the practice of unceasing prayer, the intentional awareness of God in each moment (it follows the post, The daily thought parade):

It was in the middle of all this that I realized I was praying. I wasn’t just thinking, I was prostrate before the unholy trinity of Hurry, Worry, and Vanity. My interior life was fully engaged, alert, and devoted to adoring this unholy Three unceasingly, from the moment my alarm buzzed me awake, until this very moment of awareness. And, I figured, they’d probably been at it all through the night as well.

Then in a moment of reverie, birthed by a sudden ray of light, I laughed out loud. St. Paul urged those who love God to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5.17), and “pray in the Spirit at all times” (Ephesians 6.18). But up till now, I’d considered them hyperbole, pious exaggeration, the enthusiasm of a saint. But in this flash of insight, it dawned on me that St. Paul’s advice wasn’t to be dismissed. I shouldn’t ask, “Can I pray without ceasing?” Instead, the real question is, “To What or to Whom do I pray unceasingly?”

At that moment, I figured that if unceasing, interior prayer to those unholy gods, Hurry, Worry, and Vanity, can rise so easily within me, why can’t I pray unceasingly to the Holy Trinity? Right then and there I wagered that if I can be this focused on worldly things and endlessly vexed by them, I could also be full of God, learning to rest in the Spirit, and in the midst of the active life that is mine, bring a sense of peace and wholeness and joy that transforms all of life.

A re-posting from November 9, 2009

Trading gods

If I can keep my mind active and busy with the clutter of competing and distracting thoughts that keep me unbalanced and focused on external matters, surely I can exercise the mind toward active, interior prayer that moves from psalms, prayers, and the recitation of the Jesus Prayer, to the prayer of the heart and watchfulness over my interior landscape. Surely, with God's help, I can trade the primitive "prayer" to the idols that seek my allegiance for prayer that anchors me in Jesus and unites me with the inner life of the Holy Trinity.

Surely, if I can "pray" unceasingly to such false gods, I can pray to the true God---for I have God's help and nothing pleases God more.