Is Petitionary Prayer Childish?

A very dear friend of mine – and one much older and wiser than myself – once told me that she had been praying to God to help her find a used car.  She had something very particular in mind, and she had found exactly the right thing, except that it cost about $500 too much.  “But that’s my fault,” she said.  “I forgot to tell God my budget.  In prayer, you have to be very specific.”  At the time, I thought she was being silly and simplistic.  But in truth, Maria was light years ahead of me in prayer.  Maria is what you might call a friend of God.  I should be sitting at her feet, saying as the disciples did to Jesus, “Teach me to pray.”

Many of us feel that it is naïve and unsophisticated to ask God for specific things.  He already knows what we want, so why waste the time and mental energy?  Isn’t our time better spent in adoration or contemplation?  And if we’re really being honest, aren’t we afraid that we will doubt or resent God if we ask for “specifics” and then don’t get them?  Petitionary prayer, it seems, can lead us into an intellectual quagmire of questions, objections and spiritual pitfalls.

That’s why Maria and those like her have so much to teach me.  As much as I may have wondered at Maria’s “brand” of faith, I deeply admired her.  The simplicity of her prayer was not born of simplicity of mind.  Maria was clever, uncommonly clever.  Rather, the simplicity of Maria’s prayer came from the simplicity of her heart, a heart that was focused like a laser on one thing:  God’s magnificent providence.  The way Maria saw things, God was both utterly transcendent and entirely involved in her life.  He was the One Seated on the Throne and the one who was right beside her.  He was the One in whom we live and move and have our being, and he was the one who would help her purchase just the right used car. 

Maria did not waste her time with intellectual questions about petitionary prayer.  Instead, she followed the command of Christ and asked God for every little thing (Mt. 7:7-11).  And how did God respond to Maria?  Not by answering each prayer with a miracle (though he did do amazing things for her!).  But he responded by being her lifelong companion, her constant friend.  He responded by giving her a peace that was the natural reward for her trust. 

When I looked into Maria’s eyes, I saw an ocean of calm and a confidence that took me aback.  It was prayer that did this.  Childlike?  Perhaps.  And to such as these belongs the Kingdom of God.

 
 

I Believe in Dinosaurs

Indulge me for a moment in a strange memory.  I was standing in the Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C., in the dinosaur exhibit, in front of one of those huge reconstructed dinosaur skeletons (a brontosaurus, I think).  I looked at it for awhile, not really thinking much about it one way or another.  Then I looked down and saw a replica of a baby dinosaur, curled up at the big dinosaur’s feet.  It was very small and sleeping, and it was very close to where I was standing.  Something about the replica held my gaze and for several long moments – I was totally transfixed, totally focused on the baby brontosaurus. 

Suddenly I had a strange and profound realization:  Dinosaurs actually existed! 

But I knew that already! 

Didn’t I?

I don’t know what amazed me more – my newfound belief in dinosaurs or the discovery that I had apparently not really believed in dinosaurs for my whole life!  Like everyone else, I had learned about dinosaurs since childhood.  I never got especially excited about them, but I certainly had no reason to doubt their existence.  And yet in that moment at the museum, I realized that I had never really allowed myself to believe – to imagine, to grasp, to fall into – a reality where these fantastic creatures actually lived and breathed and mated and ate each other, long before human beings existed – in my world – in Texas for goodness’ sakes!  Looking at that baby dino, I suddenly “got it” – the truth broke in, and I imagined and believed in a world of dinosaurs, a time before humans, something incredible but true.

This experience in the museum happened to me as an adult.  And when I realized that I hadn’t actually believed in dinosaurs even though I thought I did, I wondered about all the other things I think I believe.  I wondered about God and Jesus, forgiveness and Eucharist.  I wondered about heaven and hell, death and forever.  I wondered about the little doubts that nag at me sometimes and the big things I take for granted.  I realized there are things I never really let myself imagine and things I want to imagine but can’t. 

It seems that part of being human is not fully knowing our own minds.  I thought I believed in dinosaurs, but in reality, I was only coming to believe in them.  And so it is with the truths of our faith.  Do we believe in them?  Yes we do.  And we don’t.  And we might.  And we will. 

For now, we can add to our daily prayer the honest words of the father of a convulsing boy, who pleaded with Jesus:  “I believe!  Help my unbelief!” (Mk. 9:24)

Deacon's Prayer

I wrote this prayer for the deacons of the Diocese of Bridgeport and their wives (who share in their formation and often share in their ministry).  I wanted to pass it on so you can either share it with the deacons in your life (Hi, Dad!) or use it in your own ministry.  I did write it with deacons in mind but it can be prayed by anyone, of course.  Feel free to adapt this prayer for your own use!

* * * * *

Lord Jesus Christ, Servant of all,

Send your Spirit upon me as I serve your Church.

Give me eyes to see the needs of your people.

Give me a discerning mind to know your truth.

Give me a generous spirit when I am tired but needed.

Give me a humble heart when my work goes unnoticed.

Give me peace of mind in obedience and service.

Give me health of body so I may serve with strength.

Make me fertile ground for your inspiration and love.

Comfort me when I question myself and my ministry.

Grant me grace as I age so I may share your wisdom.

Make my heart like yours so I may love your people. 

Amen.

* * * * *

A special note:  Has hell frozen over?  It’s possible.  I’m on Facebook!  

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My Salvation

Those who have met me in recent years may be surprised to know that I was a somewhat melancholic teen.  For years I saw the world as very black and white; I saw good and bad.  I wanted everything to be good, and I was unhappy that some things were bad.  Despite my own happy childhood I looked around at the world and saw what I considered to be a negative place.  I couldn’t figure out how I fit into it or how it could ever feel “right.” 

I remember a conversation I had with the man who mentored me through those teen years and many years beyond – a parish priest who put up with my melancholy and who succeeded in the careful balancing act of loving me just as I was while simultaneously bringing about a substantial change in me.  One day I told him just how bad this life is, just how miserable.  I was armed with a quote from St. Teresa of Avila that I thought captured the whole awful mess of life.  “Life,” I said, “is like a bad night in a bad inn.”

I was sure that God and all his angels and saints agreed with me.  But Fr. Tim didn’t.  He didn’t agree with me at all.  And his response shifted the entire worldview going on in my teenage brain.  It changed the way I saw everything including myself, him, God, suffering, my future.  It changed the way I saw my world and how I fit into it.  Fr. Tim told me life isn’t a bad night in a bad inn.  “Life,” he said, “is the moment of your salvation.”

I have never stopped believing that.  I have never stopped seeing my world and my life from this fuller perspective – one that recognizes life as a gracious moment, a time of encounters and relationships that bring me closer and closer to the heart of God if only I will allow it.  Sure, sometimes the inn feels run down or drafty or even dangerous.  Sometimes the other people in the inn rob, cheat and steal – or gossip or disappoint or annoy me.  Sometimes it is dark and the night in the inn feels long.  But the moment of my salvation is long, long enough for me to settle into the beauty of this inn and its people, long enough to learn how to live here with them and with myself, long enough to grow into my own salvation.  God has not left me here to flounder until morning comes.  He lives with me here, in this time and place.  This is the moment of my salvation.

To Change the World

“An authentic faith – which is never comfortable or completely personal – always involves a deep desire to change the world.”

 -- Pope Francis, Evangelii Gaudium 183