There are probably as many different ways of praying as there are people. Dermot Mansfield SJ adopts the wise Benedictine saying “Pray as you can, not as you can’t” and goes on to suggest a few ways people may find helpful.
At the point we’ve reached in this series, I feel I should offer some practical guidelines on prayer here and now. How will you and I actually pray? What is the best way of prayer for me? Is there an ideal form of prayer that I should follow? Well, there are as many ways of praying as there are people. And maybe the way I prayed yesterday will not suit me today.
Pray as you can
‘Pray as you can, not as you can’t,’ said a wise Benedictine guide to prayer many years ago now. Nevertheless, a few concrete suggestions will not go astray, once you do not feel tied down by them, but allow yourself to be drawn by the desire and need in your heart right now.
Once again, as I did last month, it is only right for me to centre our thoughts on Christ, on him whose presence is life for us. Our prayer, our thoughts, our affections, tend towards him and are focused on him. Why?
In Jesus, so close to us, there is present the whole mystery of God. ‘He is the radiant copy of God’s glory, and the very imprint of his being, and he upholds the universe by his word of power’ (Heb1:3). And he says to us, ‘Do not be afraid; I am the first and the last, the living one. I was dead, and see, I am alive forever and ever’ (Rev 1:17-18). ‘Look! I am standing at the door, knocking. If you hear my voice and open to me, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me’ (Rev 3:20).
Depths of our hearts
He is always there for us. ‘Come to me, all you who are wearied and overburdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Yes, my yoke is easy, and my burden light’ (Mt l:18-29).
In our hearts’ depths, where prayer is, there abides the mystery of Jesus. He comes to us, speaks to us, and takes up his dwelling in us. As he abides in us, so he wants us to abide in him: ‘Make your home in me, as I make mine in you’ (In.15:4). This is our heart’s treasure, our strength, our consolation, and our deepest source of prayer always.
Keeping such thoughts as these in mind, I’m going to offer an open-ended method of prayer, of the kind recommended by St. Ignatius in his Spiritual Exercises, when he invites us to contemplate the gospel mysteries, and focus our prayer on Jesus. It will be as if we’re actually praying in this way here and now. And if the present moment doesn’t suit, you could try out this prayer at some other suitable time, when you can become settled and still.
Let me now become quiet, first of all. Entering the house of my heart, I become aware that Jesus is present to me. I pause for a few moments, conscious of how he looks at me. Maybe my experience is silent, wordless. Or maybe a few words come to me. Lord, I really believe you are here with me now. You are before me. You are within me. You call me by my name. Help me, in this time of prayer, to be lovingly conscious of you.
In this atmosphere of mutual presence, I next call to mind some favourite gospel story. Just now, I suggest that you picture Jesus at the beginning of his ministry, when he was staying at Capernaum, by the lakeshore of Tiberias. A whole day is described in the first chapter of St Mark’s gospel (1:21-34).
It is the Jewish Sabbath day. At the beginning, Jesus heals a man in dramatic circumstances in the synagogue. Then, more intimately, there is the healing of Simon’s mother-in-law. Then, that evening, people come crowding round the door of Peter’s house, looking for Jesus, bringing their sick to him.
Enter the scene
As best I can, I enter into that scene, become part of it, mingle with the disciples, and look at Jesus, at what he is doing, how he moves among the people. I am captivated by what I see. Perhaps I find myself coming close to him; he is with me, and speaks with me. What is in my heart? What does he say to me? Then perhaps my focus changes. Alongside him, I look in a new way at the many people around, seeing into their hearts and deeply aware of their needs.
I contemplate, I ponder, I reflect and pray in whatever way I can. Also, I find that so much of the scene relates to the world today, and to my own life, here and now. Somehow, the gospel scene and life today as I experience it are not far apart but very close together. Let me stay with all of this a while…
Finally, to conclude this prayerful contemplation and pondering, I simply pray in whatever words come to me. Lord, thank you for this experience. It has been good to be with you, to look at you. And somehow you have helped me to contemplate the world’s need, the deep hunger in people’s hearts. What it will lead to I don’t know. But, Lord, help me to know you will direct and guide me. Mary, be with me too, now and at the hour of my death. Amen.
Such is the form of prayer recommended by St. Ignatius, and indeed by many others. I hope you find it helpful. As I said by way of preface, I think it is best when actually prayed, and in a time of genuine quiet. Many other gospel texts could be used, such as when Jesus calms the storm (Mk 4:35-41), or walks on the waters (Mt 14:22-36), or converses with the woman at the well (Jn 4:1-42). Again, there are lots of scenes of healing. All of them, in some way or another, relate to our own needs and desires.
Now, it might not suit you to pray in this fairly formal way. But what will suit, I am certain, is to listen carefully to the gospel reading whenever you are at Mass, and keep it in your minds and hearts as best you can at moments during the day.
Not every gospel reading will lend itself to this prayerful reflection, of course. But many of the stories will. And so we can grow in a kind of gospel consciousness, with our hearts centred on Jesus, his actions and words. There is no greater gift or enrichment we can have.
This article first appeared in The Messenger (October 2006), a publication of the Irish Jesuits.
