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The Simplest Prayer

21/10/2022

A Reflection on the Gospel for Sunday, October 23rd, 2022:
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Luke
18.9-14

Jesus told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and regarded others with contempt:

“Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.’

“But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’

“I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for whoever exalts himself will be humbled, but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

I remember going to Mass at St. Michael’s Cathedral in Toronto and hearing Cardinal Collins talk about the Jesus Prayer. He said it was the simplest prayer, the only one you really need to pray when you don’t know what else to say. I don’t remember the context or the rest of the homily or why this stuck with me but, all these years later, the singular importance of this prayer stands out in my mind.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

These are the tax collector’s words.

What I remember is that this simplest prayer is all we need. It’s a prayer for when we don’t know what to say, for when we can’t make it to Confession, a prayer that sums up something fundamental about our relationship with the Father and Son: we cry out for mercy and He hears us and gives it – in His own time, of course.

Simplicity is best, and so is keeping our eyes fixed above rather than on what everybody else is doing. It’s so easy to get caught up in what it looks like to be a good Christian (especially in this age of social media), but God doesn’t care what we look like. I think that we, flawed humans, are the only ones preoccupied with how we appear. God loves our hearts and what we do with them.

There’s humility in praying the Jesus Prayer because, when we say it, we recognize that we are, first and foremost, sinners. There’s no hiding behind false humility. The prayer isn’t, “Lord Jesus, have mercy on me when I sin sometimes.” Though it’s painful, we’re better off bringing our faults to the Son and laying them at the foot of His cross. There is nothing God wants more than for us to let Him love us and bestow His mercy upon us.

Like the tax collector, let us open our hearts and come to Him humbly with our prayers.

Kim Tan

3 Comments

Hold Fast to Him

20/10/2022

9 Comments

A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, October 23rd, 2022:
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

2 Timothy
4.6-8, 16-18

Beloved: I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.

From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have longed for his appearing.

At my first defence no one came to my support, but all deserted me. May it not be counted against them!

But the Lord stood by me and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. So I was rescued from the lion’s mouth.

The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and save me for his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

We don’t have to be physically imprisoned as Paul was to experience the desolation he lived. When we are being poured out as libations, emptied of ourselves in order to serve God and others, we can sometimes feel like we’re in a cold, dark cell.

Life can organically separate us into cells, or we can unilaterally choose to enter into this state. Even choosing the road I believe the Lord has set out for me can leave me feeling abandoned.

As a single parent, I regularly experience a sense of absence: this feeling that I, or my family, is incomplete somehow. I understand that this is far from the truth. But no matter how often I renounce this lie, the loneliness remains.

I sometimes try to fill this space with activity, or with friends to occupy the fourth seat at our table. I can see now that these are good but temporary fixes. There is a deeper, darker root to the spirit of loneliness that permeates me, and that is where I should look for solutions.

When I peer deep down into it, the root of this spirit is likely the belief that I am easily forgotten, disposable. This is the way of our world, isn’t it – the throw away culture we live in? There have been relationships in my life that have led me toward this destructive pattern of thinking – I didn’t always choose this path alone.

Thankfully, though, there is a relationship I can nurture that will reroute these paths into a deep, fortified run – a channel of Truth. Paul held fast to this Relationship, and as I sit by the fire tonight, so do I:

The fire

Snaps
Cricks
Floats

over the logs.

Crickets rhythmically tune the breeze.

Gentle
Soft
Warm

My attention shifts between the flames in front of me and the flames in the sky.

A wee dram in my hand,
Memories are rekindled.

Life is good
And hard.

It burns, so I can’t hold it.
Moves, and I can’t catch it.
Whispers too softly for me to hear it.

The flames disappear
And appear again.

As the cricket song sweeps over the embers:

Where is God?

The sirens split this question in two:

Where?

Is God?

The smoke picks up pace, eager to respond.

Here. Do you see Him?

The whisky burns.
The log burns.
The stars burn.

The fire goes out.

Peace.

Lori MacDonald

9 Comments

Make the Call

19/10/2022

6 Comments

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, October 23rd, 2022:
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Psalm 34
2-3, 17-19, 23

R. The poor one called and the Lord heard.

I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth. My soul makes its boast in the Lord; let the humble hear and be glad.

R. The poor one called and the Lord heard.

The face of the Lord is against evildoers, to cut off the remembrance of them from the earth. When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears, and rescues them from all their troubles.

R. The poor one called and the Lord heard.

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in spirit. The Lord redeems the life of his servants; none of those who take refuge in him will be condemned.

R. The poor one called and the Lord heard.

When was the last time you called someone? In the world of texts and instant messaging, actual phone calls are becoming rare. As a pre-cell phone era teen, I spent hours on the phone with my friends. I remember the first time I got a phone in my room. Finally I didn’t have to have my conversations in the kitchen for my whole family to hear! Having my own phone gave me a little bit of independence and a means of building my friendships.

No one really calls anyone anymore – except telemarketers, survey takers and people telling me I won a cruise. You might even assume that phone calls really don’t matter any more. Yet in the aftermath of the most recent hurricane I, like many others, lost the ability to make a phone call. Cell service became sketchy and I lost my landline. I was surprised that the loss made me a little anxious. How would I contact anyone if there was an emergency? How would loved ones contact me if they had an emergency? Ultimately, it wasn’t so much the loss of the phone line that unnerved me. It was the loss of the ability to do something I have come to take for granted – pick up a phone and call someone to check in.

We often talk of prayer as a means to check in with God. And, just like making a phone call, I can take my prayer time for granted. I know that I can “call” God at any time, even without electricity or wifi, and I will never get His voicemail nor will He ever hang up on me. Still, too often, I make up reasons that take away my ability to call.

I’m too busy.
He doesn’t want to hear from me.
I have nothing to say to him.
I’ll talk to him later … when I have time.

The psalmist reminds us that God’s nearness is just a “call” away. This is a gift! The words of the psalm are clear: the Lord will answer and ease troubles, but I need to call. God wants to hear from me. Just as I called my friends to talk over my day – the good, the bad, the ugly – I can do the same with God because He wants a relationship with me. Our God wants a relationship with each of us so much that He sent His only Son to be with us, to reveal God the Father to us and, ultimately, to die for us. Failing to check in with Him in a way seems ungrateful. God wants to hear from us simply to hear from us and to let us know He loves us. He gives us the space and opportunity to respond to and hopefully return that love. God offers us so much – we have only to ask, be willing to receive, and readily to respond. So, this is a reminder for you (and me!), to make the call!

Aurea Sadi

6 Comments

Pray in Earnest

18/10/2022

3 Comments

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, October 23rd, 2022:
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Sirach
35.15-17, 20-22

The Lord is the judge, and with him there is no partiality. He will not show partiality to the poor but he will listen to the prayer of one who is wronged. The Lord will not ignore the supplication of the orphan, or the widow when she pours out her complaint.

The person whose service is pleasing to the Lord will be accepted, and their prayer will reach to the clouds.

The prayer of the humble pierces the clouds, and it will not rest until it reaches its goal; it will not desist until the Most High responds and does justice for the righteous, and executes judgment. Indeed, the Lord will not delay.

I have a number of care needs in my home. I know things could be far worse, but there were moments last year when their combined weight was overwhelming.

It was a humbling and fraught time. I found it difficult to pray or to pray in the scheduled, consistent way Christianity encourages. I’ve never been great at keeping much in life consistent, let alone daily prayer time, and I spent more time trying to distract myself from uncomfortable feelings and realities, rather than sitting with them, with God.

This story line is predictable. Another “Come to Jesus” moment was fast approaching. Comically, it came while lying on my basement floor after exercise when I was trying to look after just one more thing – myself. Completely spent, my anger not at all dissipated by the physical exertion I’d just put myself through, I glared at the ceiling as if I could bore holes through it.

“Are you trying to break me?!” I snarled.

A bit dramatic, maybe (and an incorrect assessment) but it was probably the most sincere thing I’d said to God in months.

I felt God breathe: “Finally. Now I have your heart.”

Prayer is an enigma sometimes. There are so many different forms and experiences of it: silent, singing, rote, devotional, lectio – you name it. You never know when the Lord will knock you off your feet, or when you’ll find yourself knee-deep in desolation. I do know that there is no bad or unproductive prayer and that the most effective prayer is the one we actually undertake. And, of course, prayer is not always as emotionally laden as the one made on my basement floor.

The point Sirach makes is that God loves prayer made in earnest, that is to say, with one’s whole heart. He particularly holds dear our cries of injustice. He is a just and fair God and, while we may not always see or understand how prayers are answered, He will not delay in responding justly in His perfect time.

Sirach also reminds us that genuinely pouring out our hearts, or praying for someone else’s, is never done in vain. Prayer does not dissipate off into some void with no meaning. Genuine prayer is good. It is alive, the expression of the heart of a living person to God. It has the ability to "pierce the clouds” and "reach its goals" not by content, length, eloquence or austerity, but by sincerity and humility, which move the heart of the Father.

Prayer is just as much one of our needs as is the thing we are praying for. It is much like breathing. It keeps us alive. People have been praying for me and the ones I love, especially when I felt I couldn’t. It has been like spiritual CPR, keeping me going. I may have been actively engaging with what needed tending in my home, but I know there are many things that could not have happened without God’s hand over them. I am grateful.

Count me among those who have poured out my complaint to the Lord. I am one whose supplication has not been ignored. I have been held up by the prayer of others.

Michelynne Gomez

3 Comments

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The Simplest Prayer

A Reflection on the Gospel for Sunday, October 23rd, 2022:Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Hold Fast to Him

A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, October 23rd, 2022:Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Make the Call

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, October 23rd, 2022:Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Pray in Earnest

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, October 23rd, 2022:Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Archives

A Reflection on the Gospel for Sunday, October 23rd, 2022:
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

A Reflection on the Second Reading for Sunday, October 23rd, 2022:
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

A Reflection on the Psalm for Sunday, October 23rd, 2022:
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, October 23rd, 2022:
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time