The Privilege of Prayer

Someone asked me to pray for them this week. This isn't the first time that has happened, but it's the first time I actually thought for a while what that means. For some reason, they think my prayers will help the situation they are asking about. Okay, I surely can't let this go to my head. They may be asking every living, breathing human they know to pray. It certainly isn't like I some effacy greater than anyone else. There are plenty of people more righteous, more devout, and more dedicated to prayer than myself.

Yet nonetheless, it is a great honor, a great privilege to pray. It is something I, maybe we, all too often take for granted. God is always there waiting for us. He is never too busy, never distracted, never tired of us wanting company with him. In fact, he loves it. The Psalmist repeats how "the Lord takes pleasure in his people" and "the Lord takes pleasure in those who fear him" (Ps147:11, 149:4). Yes, God desires our companionship more than anything else. It's why we remember and celebrate every Easter season the price God paid to restore our relationship.

Yet do we requite his love in the same manner? Do we seek communion with him with all our heart and soul? Or do I assume since I can pray anytime, why pray now? The love of God should not become so familiar to my being that I lose sight of how precious it is. That doesn't mean I limit time spent with God, but rather I value it more than anything in my life.

When someone in sincerity asks me to remember them in prayer, I need to be careful not to respond tritely. "My prayers are with you" and then I go about my business as before. God doesn't need me to pray. But he has granted me the privilge to do so. He has allowed me, in fact it's his will, that I come to him with requests he already is wanting to grant out of his love. All the more reason that "in the fear of God with faith and in love" we should boldly draw near to his presence. Thanks be to God for his mercy and grace in sharing himself.

Running for peace

From the sayings of the Desert Fathers, we read the rule of life for Abba Arsenius: "Be solitary, be silent, be at peace." Pretty simple words, but how powerful they are! Throughout the pages of these sayings, we often find pilgrims traveling to "hear a word" (a pointed individual exhortation) from a well respected Father. The goal is to find a personal spiritual rule for leading one's life.

How easy it would be if there were such a source today. We do have the church to guide us, our spiritual fathers and guides, and Holy Scripture. But it would so easy if I could hear one simple saying, such as Abba Arsenius had, and apply it for myself. But alas, our pilgrimage can not be so easy. Or can it?

The same themes appear in these words from the Fathers: silence, solitude, simplicity, peace, humility. But we as laypeople in the busy, modern 21st century, who is here to tell us how we live these out today? That, is the challenge for each of us today. To assimilate the truth of our faith, make it personal, and set our lives to living it out in our own personal way. Yet it must be in accordance with the tradition and history of our spiritual ancestors.

Abba Bessarion was a spiritual nomad, traveling from place to place. His saying was "for always I must wander, in order to finish my course." These words resonate with me as I run for over 2 hours on a Saturday morning, training for another marathon. A gentle, misty rain grows harder, then back to a slight mist. The roads in and around Ft. Ben are virtually empty, save a few other hearty souls seeking health and peace. The solitude is welcome, a respite from marathons of thousands of runners, bands, spectators and cheers. My partners this morning are a few geese announcing their arrival; clouds bantering about for space in a gray sky; a mallard braving the rain on the lake shore; and the rhythmic beat of wet shoes meeting pavement.

There is something contemplative about long distance running. The time spent alone challenging my body to exceed it's limits, challenges my soul to pursue peace to the same degree. If Bessarion had to "always wander, in order to finish his course", I wonder if always I must run, in order to find peace. The rain ceases, the clouds struggle to hold back an emerging attempt at sunlight. And all the while my footprints and heartbeat seek to hold a word, to live out my course, the pursuit of inner peace.

Sayings of the Desert Fathers

At the beginning of this year, I started reading through "The Sayings of the Desert Fathers" for the second time. I only read a couple every day, it took me about 2 years to go through it the first time. The second time through is giving me an opportunity to really let them sink into me, and allow me to meditate on their meaning a little more. Many of the same themes repeat themselves: humilty, silence, prayer, obedience, the Psalms, and the value of asceticism. What could be more appropriate to start Lent than with a few of their sayings?

From Abba Evagrius: "It is a great thing to pray without distraction, but to chant the Psalms without distraction is even greater." How meaningful after hearing the Canon of St. Andrew of Crete and Great Compline.

From Bishop Epiphanius on the value of personal piety: Someone asked him, "Is one righteous man enough to appease God?" Abba replied "Yes, for he himself has written "find a man who lives according to righteousness and I will pardon the whole people" Jer 5:1. How similar to St. Seraphims' great unction: "Acquire inner peace, and thousands beside you will be saved."

Finally, from Abba Dioscorus about repentance and humility: In his cell, he wept over himself, while his disciple was sitting in another cell. When the latter came to see the old man, he asked him "Father, why are you weeping?" Abba Dioscorus replied "I am weeping over my sins". His disciple said "Father, you don't have any sins." Abba answered "Truly my child, if I were allowed to see my sins, three or four men would not be enough to weep for them."

Lord have mercy on us and grant us hearts of repentence and humility as we prepare ourselves to celebrate your passion and resurrection.