Friday, March 09, 2007 Prayer By Rene Lizada Papa's Table
"Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul." -- Gandhi
NOWADAYS it is a struggle to pray. There was a time where I could just sit in the corner of a church or the prayer room in our home and I could pray. That is not so nowadays. Today I find praying difficult. But it does not stop me from doing so. We should pray more when we cannot pray. But what does it mean to pray anyway?
Sometimes when I am in the adoration chapels of some churches I find myself watching others when they pray. Most of the people I see are women. And a few men. Mostly older people or my age. Seldom do I see young people in adoration chapels.
Some people pray with prayer books. They read from them, murmur silently the prayers they read. After they read, they pause and reflect. Others just keep on reading and reading. They finish entire books I presume. Still there are others who pray the Rosary. They stare silently at the Blessed Sacrament while their fingers thread the Rosary.
Then when it is done, they repeat the whole process. Others pray with so many books while others pray with just a book. It is not rare to see some people having a pile of prayer books in the chapel. While others just have the Bible or some prayer book with them.
Some people kneel all the time while most are seated. Some pray with eyes closed while others stare into the silence. Some have their hands clasped while others have their hands on prayer books softly tracing the words. Still there are others who squat on floors while looking at the floor lost in the reverie and serenity of prayer.
And when the prayer is done, others stand and bow while some go on their knees and bow. And then there are those who really fall flat on the floor and bow with their foreheads touching the floor.
I pray not with books. I pray with music. When I enter a place of prayer I sit quietly and settle myself. It takes a few minutes to do that. With nothing in mind I just stare at the cross or the ceiling or the wall. I have learned not to expect anything in prayer. (But it took me some years to realize that!) I approach prayer like a person who opens a door and a whole ocean stands in front of him.
So large a world, infinite possibilities. And when that is done, when I am quiet enough, I play my music. The great thing about my music player is that it has a shuffle capability and I start my prayer with what the player decides to play. Of course I have a playlist, which is entirely devoted to meditative music! And as I sit there and my mind is filled with the music, I close my eyes and I just let it go.
Sometimes I can let go, sometimes I cannot. There have been moments when it becomes so intense, and for that I am grateful. But mostly I just stare at the wall and think of all that has happened. I have so many thoughts, so many feelings that I forget that I am in prayer room. I think of my worries and my hurts. I think of my problems and my heartaches. I notice my painful shoulders and my throbbing head. I look at my weary hands, I stare at my socks. There are days that I cry.
And why do we pray? Why do we go to some quiet place where we can be still? We all have our reasons why we pray. Some people pray because it has become a habit for them. They need to pray because it what they want. Some people pray because they need to. They need something or want something. And it is almost a cliché to say that really. Most of us pray because we want or need something. Otherwise we leave prayer to Sundays and Holy Week.
But I would like to believe that we pray because it is as Gandhi said, a "longing of the soul." Our bridge to our spirit is our soul and the way to reach our spirit is through prayer. For me the most difficult part of prayer is the settling down. Most people who write about prayer compare our state to that of a body of water.
On the surface it may seem chaotic. There is perpetual motion. And yet if one can find a way to go beyond that, one finds that the deeper one gets into the water, the more peaceful it becomes. The deeper, the better. Of course it is not easy, but there is always this place in our selves, that is eternally quiet. It is our sanctuary. It is where our soul resides.
We pray because we are lost. We pray because of a hunger and a thirst to be whole. To be true and authentic. We pray because in the truest sense, we need to. So many things bother us, so many moments disturb us. We cannot understand and perhaps we never will. We seek answers, we seek God. But that is the irony of prayer. We pray to find God.
But prayer is not finding God. It is God finding us.
