Prayer

Prayer guidance from a master

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There are two sorts of mental prayer; one common and easy, the other very special, extraordinary and advanced, something received rather than made….There is a very great difference between these two sorts of prayer: the former may in some pleasure be taught by words, the second we cannot so teach, because no words are able to express it. It is a hidden manna, which no man knoweth but him that receiveth it.  Even the receiver cannot explain how it is, nor even properly understand how it is, as Cassian well deserves, quoting to this effect what he calls a divine and heavenly saying of the blessed St. Antony Abbot: ‘Prayer is not perfect as long as the monk at prayer is aware of the very fact that he is praying.’…we cannot express what this prayer is, nor teach it to others, but you must not seek to apply yourself to it, nor raise yourself to it if God does not raise you; apply you and lift you up to it. That would be great pride and presumption, and you would be deprived of the grace of prayer that you deserved, and be left without any. ‘He hath led me’, says the Spouse, ‘into His cellar’ (Cant., ii. 4).    This entry which God gives to the soul into His privacy, and into His wine cellar, to sate and inebriate her with His love, is a most particular gift of the Lord: the Bride did not go in by herself, no, not until her beloved took her by the hand and led her in.  The lifting of yourself up to the kiss of His mouth is not a thing you can or ought to do, unless He Himself lifts you up.  It would be great impertinence and audacity…
–St Alphonsus Rodriquez, ‘On Christian Perfection’.

The well-known Jesuit, Brother Alphonsus Rodriguez, used to say his Rosary with such fervor that he often saw a red rose come out of his mouth at each Our Father and a white rose at each Hail Mary. The red and white roses were equal in beauty and fragrance, the only difference being in their color.  –St. Louis De Montfort  ‘The Secret of the Rosary’

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True Humility

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The Prayer Of Mary

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior
for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed:
the Almighty has done great things for me,
and holy is his Name.

He has mercy on those who fear him
in every generation.
He has shown the strength of his arm,
he has scattered the proud in their conceit.

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones,
and has lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.

He has come to the help of his servant Israel
for he remembered his promise of mercy,
the promise he made to our fathers,
to Abraham and his children forever.

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Head, Heart, Hand

Doing research for Unlikely Wanderer, ideas were presented paralleling my thoughts on head, heart, and hand. The Jewish tradition of adorning oneself with the Shema powerfully connects the head, heart, and hand with the greatest commandment of God, Deuteronomy 6:4-9. In my fiction piece on Bogdan, the Dacian youth, the Old Israelite utilizes the tefillin. I thoroughly enjoy when my Catholic faith connects with the Jewish faith.

You have a brain. It is in one world. Your heart is in another. And your hands often end up involved in something completely foreign to both of them. Three diverse machines.

So you put on tefillin. First thing in the day, you connect your head, your heart and your hand with these leather cables—all to work as one, with one intent. And then, when you go out to meet the world, all your actions find harmony in a single coordinated purpose…

Link to website: Tefillin

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No Tepidity

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And the LORD said to Gideon, “The people are still too many; take them down to the water and I will test them for you there; and he of whom I say to you, `This man shall go with you,’ shall go with you; and any of whom I say to you, `This man shall not go with you,’ shall not go.

So he brought the people down to the water; and the LORD said to Gideon, “Every one that laps the water with his tongue, as a dog laps, you shall set by himself; likewise every one that kneels down to drink.”

And the number of those that lapped, putting their hands to their mouths, was three hundred men; but all the rest of the people knelt down to drink water.

And the LORD said to Gideon, “With the three hundred men that lapped I will deliver you, and give the Mid’ianites into your hand; and let all the others go every man to his home. –Judges chp. 7

Aspiring to a greater concentration, doing all that we can in order for God to make of us all that we can be as contemplatives, let us take inspiration from Gideon’s chosen men. With haste, rapt attention, lacking self-consciousness,and unrestrained; let us lap up our devotion and dedication to all things that brings us closer to God as dogs lap up water.

Oh great and glorious God, enlighten the darkness of my heart. Grant me true faith, certain hope, and perfect charity. Grace me with wisdom and understanding so that I may carry out Thy holy and true commandments. –prayer of St Francis before the St Damiano Cross.

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Mary Undoer of Knots prayer

Mary, Beloved Mother, channel of all grace, I return to You today my heart, recognizing that I am a sinner in need of your help. Many times I lose the graces you grant me because of my sins of egoism, pride, rancor and my lack of generosity and humility. I turn to You today, Mary, Undoer of knots, for You to ask your Son Jesus to grant me a pure, divested, humble and trusting heart. I will live today practicing these virtues and offering you this as a sign of my love for You. I entrust into Your hands this knot of despair, arrogance, and presumption which keeps me from reflecting the glory of God.

Mary, Undoer of Knots, pray for me.

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Love and indifference

In my occupation as an industrial maintenance technician, I often have days of nothing to do. Today is one. I will utilize the time to expand upon my thoughts on love as opposed to indifference. First, I would like to stress how I view myself. I am not a theologian, nor a scholar. I base my blogging efforts upon a friend requesting I undertake the task. I do view myself as a writer, although this is in regards to my extensive reading background, mostly fiction, storytelling—film cherished. I feel I possess a unique insight, sentimentality and empathy, into my characters. That insight is based absolutely upon love. I love my characters, desiring to bring them to life and expression. The reason I feel qualified to write about the contemplative life, I am not as confident about. I am not an academic expert, or even the best read on the doctors of the Church. I even thought of changing the blog title or ceasing my effort. Once I did determine to focus the title of my page on Faith, Hope, and Charity, the contemplative life as a layperson, I came across the blog ‘Contemplative in the Mud’. The young man putting the blog together, I sensed is much better read and more intelligent than myself. I feel God guided me to the blog, a proper humbling. Yet I was not discouraged. I prayed over matters, feeling confident to precede, authentic in motivation. I will note that the fore mentioned blog, I read daily. It has become, and will be, a part of my daily religious practice. My friary days, my short lived postulancy as a Franciscan friar, established my confidence in God blessing me with an exceptional prayer life. All glory goes to God. I am most secure, joyous, and confident during mass, and then during pray before the Eucharist. The Rosary and Meditation are sheer delights. Our daily life in the friary intensely combined an introverted and extroverted spirituality.

I will take a side note and comment on an injustice I perceive. Jungian thought on introversion and extroversion is immaturely perverted by the majority of people using the terms. It is not an either or situation. I am not either an introvert, or an extrovert. Both the active and contemplative approach to life are a part of every person’s personality. It was presented to me that a good example of proper balancing of both approaches to life is John Paull II. John Paul, an introvert, accomplished phenomenal things as an extrovert. To even go above and beyond John Paul, Our Lord and Savior demonstrates the ultimate embracing of introversion and extroversion. Within a crowd, Our Lord was open and present for every individual. Supernaturally aware and tuned to hearts, He healed, taught, cajoled, and shared with the entirety of His being. Yet Our Lord mastered introversion on a level none can ever comprehend. Receiving the Holy Spirit through John the Baptist, Our Lord immediately went off to the desert for forty days of intense fasting, prayer, and meditation. Throughout his ministry, Our Lord found it necessary to recede from the crowd in order to communicate with His Father. Preparing for his ultimate test in the Garden of Gethsemane, His prayer efforts were so intense He sweat blood, providing for all the mightiest of wisdom: ‘Thy will be done’.

Back to friary days. As friars, we evangelized to the extreme, knocking on neighborhood doors, visiting elementary, high schools and colleges speaking, holding court with the Knight of Columbus and other groups, mingling at dinner parties, watching the Super Bowl with benefactors in their home. There were prayer excursions to abortion clinics, homeless missions—all in all, a total effort of socializing. It was why I left. I could not take it. Recovering from alcoholism, I was not that psychologically sound in crowds, fear still dominating amongst others. In regards to the contemplative life, I prospered, flourishing during the two holy hours conducted daily and the communal Rosary before night prayers: Compline. The Holy Hours were conducted in the morning before mass, and one before evening prayers: Vespers. It was interesting to take note of the friars during the Holy Hours. The ones who grew excited during the evangelizing, playing in the musical band, well versed with people, skilled and loving with men, women, and children, struggled mightily during the Holy Hour, or read and/or wrote throughout the sacred time. The worst was a jovial chubby Philippine young man who played guitar, sang with delight, and was adored by all. There was no one who could say a bad thing about the brother. He was a blessed soul. Yet I would chuckle when I watched him walking apprehensively into the Holy Hour. He did not like them. He had such a difficult time sitting still, squirming all the time, just having a terrible time sitting still for such a long period of time. I say all that lovingly. That coincides with my idea that within the vastness of the Church we find our individual way—St Paul’s elaborations on the body of the Church. Back to the Holy Hour, I realized that was my time of strength. There was another brother who also shared my prayer tendency. The academic type read voraciously during the Holy Hour, others prayed the Rosary. There were only two of us who went into meditation. I would do nothing, concentrating upon my breath, mentally focusing upon the Eucharist. The priest in charge disdained the writing of Basil Pennington, Thomas Merton, and Thomas Keating, while loving John of the Cross and Teresa of Avila. To him, the idea of emptying ourselves was absurd. We filled with the Eucharist during the Holy Hour. Through practice, I was able to go deep during the hours. It is difficult to explain. We would end the sessions with the ringing of a bell. Often when the bell rang, I felt as if I was being ripped back to a false life. During my best sessions, it was a struggle to cease the meditation. I did not want to return. I felt exhausted opening my eyes. That leads perfectly into the idea of indifference. That is the proper indifference. Being absorbed into the Eucharist through stillness and a holy environment the presence of God became an enveloping reality. It usurped all else, forcing indifference and abandonment into consciousness. However the key is that the Theological virtues: faith, hope, and charity expanded through the effort. I relate it to my love for my family. During these intense times of prayer, a profound love for my family developed. They were centered in my heart, their salvation and worldly concerns vital to my life. I tried to explain this amidst my family only to have my sister-in-law comment that absence makes the heart grow fonder. In my normal manner of clamming up when a know-it-all who does not know-it-all takes command of a conversation, I thought strongly ‘NO that is not it. It is not about them being distant. They were in truth closer to me the deeper my prayer advanced’. Back to proper indifference, I state that if infused virtues are not made greater through my religious efforts, than the indifference to worldly things is false, an error in effort, most likely, for whatever reason, an inability to love. I want to go back to a quote from the other day, where oddly enough, I touched upon the idea of indifference. The soul therefore, requires at least indifference of judgment and of will. Then, penetrated with the conviction that God is all and the creature nothing, one will desire to see and embrace in all things only the God whom one loves and yearns for and his holy will which alone can conduct one to one’s end. Happy the person, if one has also acquired what may be called indifference of taste, so that the world and its pleasures, the goods and honors of earth, everything, in short, that might estrange one from God, now inspires one with disgust, and on the contrary, whatsoever brings one closer to him, even suffering, delights one. So has it been with the saints who hungered and thirsted after God. Oh, how such indifference facilitates the practice of holy abandonment! Within the paragraph indifference is stressed, yet it is toward the things that take us away from God. If the bold text is not grasped the indifference becomes useless, 1 Corinthians 13 the obvious reference. The things that bring us closer to God must not be met with indifference, in regards to creatures they must be met with love, a sign of serous spiritual advancement would expand this to blissful love. We must love or we know nothing about God.

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Stormy Prayer

Stormy Steeple

I prayed a communal rosary today, three decades. The devout setting was wonderful; interesting, intelligent, personable brothers and sisters shared in the experience. I felt an aridity, an inability to experience bliss. I know I am making progress.

Dramatics forefront, I at first confronted the dryness with proclamations. I pleaded with my beloved Mother to understand my love and desire to do anything for her. If I could I would rip my heart from my chest and offer it to her. There had to be some tremendous effort I could endure in order to demonstrate my authentic overwhelming love.

A quiet calm prayer voice arose informing me to relax, slow down, be at peace. My abstinence from alcohol meant everything to My Blessed Mother. She loved the effort, finding my sobriety a heroic effort. It moved Her so much she showered graces upon those I loved–those I hurt in my insanity. Other forms of healing, psychological and spiritual, My Mother, the Undoer of Knots, would assist with as long as drunkenness remained rejected. It is the cross I must carry.

“The beginner, influenced by fear, endures with patience the Cross of Christ. The proficient, animated by hope, bears it willingly. He that is perfect in charity embraces it with the ardor of love.”

I recalled my time in the friary, the closing communal rosary at the end of the day. The lights were turned off, candles illuminating statues of Mary and Joseph. A third candle illuminated the domineering chapel crucifix. On special evenings, the candle offered special sight to the exposed Blessed Sacrament. The Franciscan Rosary provided a little bit of heaven. Ecstasy filled, tears at times flowing.

Today, the Rosary intensely embraced amongst others brought no special joy. Peace inducing, nothing extraordinary occurred. I felt it hinted at spiritual maturity.

Photo courtesy of Unlikely Wanderer (Facebook). Unlikely Wanderer website. A photographer whose images I will hopefully and prayerfully be utilizing in the future.

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