'Teach us to pray...'

This is the third in the series of Lenten talks. It was interesting to write. I have an idea for next week's, but I am running out of steam for the final two. As for Holy Week...eeerrrmm..

The Discipline of Prayer (3)
Reading: Luke 11: 1-4

In the world in which we live with the busy-ness of our day to day routine and with the often unreal expectations which are placed upon us, it is sometimes difficult to find the words to say our prayers, since we can become jaded and mentally exhausted.

In tonight’s reading, Jesus inspires a desire to pray through his own example of praying, thereby prompting the disciple to inquire further into the mystery of this aspect of their master’s life. The words which Jesus uses are probably the most familiar set of words to every living creature. Even when someone suffers from severe memory loss or Alzheimer’s disease, the Lord’s Prayer can often still be remembered and recited. The set, defined pattern of words can actually, contrary to common criticisms, never become too familiar, because it always allows the love and grace of God to flow in.

Last week, we thought about the idea of prayer as the foundation of everything worthwhile that we do, because of the reality that we are never hidden from God’s presence nor can we have any secret thoughts or desires in relation to God. We considered that that was the key to a more open attitude in our prayer-life. Jesus offers this thread of thought when he teaches the inquisitive disciple who wishes to learn the tools of prayer.

If you ever want to learn the tools of disciplined prayer, spend some time in a monastic community!

Members of monastic communities will pray together frequently every day, beginning as soon as they wake from their sleep, often at 6am, or in very strict orders, they will get up from sleep in the middle of the night and pray before going back to sleep again. This might sound harsh to us, who look forward to nothing more than a lie in on a Saturday morning!

But for the monastic community, the office of matins at 6am is the invitation to God to enter their hearts afresh for that day and to accompany them on their daily rhythm of work, prayer and study. It is the alarm clock, if you like, for their spiritual lives to start clicking into action again and to start contemplating the mysteries of God from where they left off before sunset the day before. The office of Matins is like any office of prayer, simply readings from Holy Scripture, the recitation of psalms, responses and antiphons in a much regularised fashion. Their daily offices will each include a recitation of the Lord’s Prayer. Our own versions of the office in the Church of Ireland, such as Morning and Evening Prayer are closely derived from the monastic offices of Matins and Vespers. And of course, Compline which we pray tonight is hardly changed at all from when it was devised by the most ancient of monastic communities in the early centuries AD.

For those unfamiliar with set defined liturgy, such as we use tonight, it might seem perhaps rarefied, remote, strange or mysterious. Although generally speaking, genuine liturgy will have a great deal of appeal even to those unfamiliar with it.

But such questions remain as why do we repeat the same responses, the same canticles week by week? Well, the monastic requires us to listen to the words in order to contemplate the mysteries of God. And for this to happen, the pattern of prayer ought to be familiar. This is where the discipline comes into play: the discipline which has to be grafted into us, which has to be taught to those unfamiliar with it, which has to be grappled with.

Nothing in our lives ever comes easily or immediately, whether playing the piano, or driving a car or a baby learning to walk or an apprentice learning the skills of her trade. Everything demands patience, perseverance, and regular teaching and practice. And in a way it is no different for formal liturgical, prayer. And yet prayer following the example of Jesus should become as natural and as essential as breathing the air around us or eating our breakfast.

For the ancient monastic, prayer was spoken in terms of the remembrance of God, which actually continues whether in or out of formal liturgy, while eating, while engaged in manual work and labour and in the very important ministry of hospitality to the stranger, all of which continue to this present day. But this remembrance of God never came easily. It grew out of the root of regular, disciplined, daily prayer and even when one’s own spirit would be low or depressed, the presence of the prayer was there to be followed and to remind that God’s presence was forever near to sustain. Just last week in the newspaper I read an interview given by the Bishop of Portsmouth who has just returned to work after 6 months of having been treated for leukaemia. He was in hospital for 12 weeks. In the interview he says, very touchingly ‘Come hell or high water, I said morning and evening prayer every day. It was not what I felt like, and a lot of time it meant nothing, but the discipline was so important, and I depended on it. Sometimes I would have to stop if a doctor or nurse came in. It was one of the things that got me through, even on the days when I could barely see because of the chemotherapy.’ (Church Times, 10 March 2006)

That is the proof, I think, of how the practice of prayer spills over into ‘real’ life and how the determined routine can both fit and shape the patterns of our life, regardless of shifting mood, inclination or ailment.

As a duty, prayer is our offering back to God with thankful hearts for all the goodness he has bestowed on us. But beyond that duty, prayer blossoms into a relationship where the awareness of the presence of God saturates every aspect of our life.