We’re drawing to the end of November, a month in which Catholics are accustomed to remembering and praying for the dead. At Saint John’s Abbey we have the wonderful custom of inviting the public to send in cards with the names of their beloved dead. At each Office and Mass, each monk takes one or more cards and prays for the names sent in.As a deacon, I'm required to pray twice a day, in the morning and evening. (I'm not in the same league as Benedictine monks like Fr. Ruff, who stop whatever they're doing six or eight times a day to pray). Like many of my contemporaries, I tend to bridle at legal requirements, but in fact the church's prescribed regimen of prayer - for me, that's Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer every day, and Mass on Sunday and other holy days - has been very good for me, and I'm grateful to have the discipline imposed on me.
The church prescribes the content of Morning and Evening Prayer (mostly psalms, canticles and other scriptural passages), but it leaves a little wiggle room for personal content - or if it doesn't, I've gone ahead and inserted some anyway, during the Intercessions, which are a lot like the Prayers of the Faithful (or, as the new missal calls them, the Universal Prayer) during mass. After praying the intercessions that appear in the book, I go ahead and pray for people whom I've committed to pray for.
In practical terms, that means that, in the morning, I pray for people (including some of you) with illnesses and other serious and chronic medical conditions, while in the evening I pray for those who have died. This is where the guilty twinge comes in: over time, I've become pretty reliable at praying for those who are ill, but I suck at praying for the dead. By "suck", I don't mean that my prayer is poor (although I don't doubt that it is), but rather that I blow off praying for the dead, more often than not. The church gives a petition every evening along the lines of, "May those who have died in your love enjoy your presence now", and so I mentally tell myself: that's good enough, I'm not going to run through the whole litany of relatives, friends, friends of relatives, relatives of friends and so on who have died in my life.
But I do run through the whole litany of people with illnesses in the morning. You'd think it would be the other way around: in the mornings, I'm getting ready for a demanding work day that starts early, and I need to get kids out the door first. But somehow I make the time to pray for the people on my Sick List (I haven't counted how many individuals I pray for each day, but it must be 30 or more persons).
And so I ponder what it says about me spiritually, that I'm more apt to pray for live people than dead people. I should point out that I've been incredibly lucky, in that both of my parents are still alive, my spouse, my children, all my siblings, my close friends, all are still here on earth - I have yet to lose anyone really close to me. So the losses I've experienced have left holes in my heart, but not the gaping emotional wounds that I'm sure many of you have from the losses of immediate loved ones, even years after the fact. There is also the fact that I tend to see and hear from those who are still living who are on my prayer list, so they are not out of sight / out of mind.
Fr. Anthony, in his post, ruminates a bit on the question of what it means to pray for the dead:
One submitted card has 1 name, another has 12. Both cards get a remembrance of one office from one monk. Did the loner there get 12 times as much grace, since the dozen souls had to split up the benefit from one monk’s office? Then there’s the varying length of the offices. The daily little hour at noon is barely 14 minutes – are some souls getting less relief than if they had been remembered at morning prayer (30 minutes) or evening prayer (sometimes up to 35 minutes)? The monastic community prays its way through all the cards several times. But the number of cards coming in increases each year, meaning it takes longer to cycle through the whole lot. Another calculation to wonder about: a submitted name might only be remembered twice in the month instead of four times as in years past. And depending on how far in we are on November 30, some cards get used one more time than others.He concludes, "Once grace is understood as a quantity, everything goes off the rails." So maybe such praying as I've done already for my grandparents, fellow choir members and so on who have died is enough. Or maybe my prayer does something for them, or others, or me, and I should make a little more time for it.
I think when he said "Once grace is understood as a quantity, everything goes off the rails" he was onto the meaning. Prayer is a mysterious thing. I have long groaned about the interpretation that some people put on prayers for the dead, almost like God is holding our loved ones for ransom until we say enough prayers. I think we can categorically reject that thought. One thing we know about God is that he dwells in eternity. That he hears all the prayers that were ever said, and those that will be said. That perhaps (and this is conjecture on my part) there is a type of "synergy" associated with prayer, that by uniting our will to God's that we aid in his work of salvation. I feel that no prayer is ever wasted, that it is our writing in the book of life. As it says in Psalm 56:8, "You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book."
ReplyDeleteThe best homily I have ever heard treating on the subject was at my brother-in-law's funeral two weeks ago. His good friend, Deacon Jerry, was the homilist. Mostly he spoke on Tom's patience in suffering, and his work as a volunteer fireman and paramedic for 26 years. He kept it up even during his illness when he wasn't doing chemo. But what he said about prayers for the dead was that we pray with confidence because our dead are in the loving hands of God, but our prayers matter; they mean something and do something.
Katherine, many thanks for this wisdom - both Deacon Jerry's and your own.
DeleteI try to pray for anonymous sick and dead no one else thinks about praying for, whoever they are and for whatever good it does.
ReplyDeleteI have never thought about prayers for the dead being "ransom," just sustenance and hope.
Raber put me the prayer list at the local parish without asking. PLEASE ASK YOUR PRAYEE BEFORE OUTING THEM AS A SICK PERSON.
Yeah, definitely ask them. And if someone's name is on the prayer list, don't ask them a bunch of nosy questions unless they want to talk about it.
DeleteIn the moments when I am not basically an agnostic, I suppose I am pretty much a heretic. I don't see any real point in praying for the dead or (for that matter) praying for the living—including myself. I figure God knows what he is doing without my telling him what I want him to do. According to Catholic teaching, a person's fate is sealed for all eternity at the moment of death. The most prayer can do is shorten time in purgatory (if you believe in that). If the idea of purgatory makes any sense to me at all, it would be a process of having to face who and what you really were in life and fully realize the consequences. That could no doubt be a painful process, but I don't see how prayers from the living (or flames) could hasten it along.
DeleteDavid - you bring up some difficult questions. I think of the parable of the importunate widow and the unjust judge. For whatever reason, it seems Jesus is urging us to be persistent in our prayer.
DeleteI know this will sound really judgmental, but - when I think of some of the people I pray for (or should pray for if I were more persistent myself) who have died, I feel like maybe they could use someone speaking to God on their behalf.
I don't know either, honestly, but I think it matters that I pray, if only to acknowledge that people, living or dead, matter to me. I suppose many people don't need a prayer to acknowledge that, but in times of utter helplessness, when a life slips away and there's nothing to be done about it, that's what I feel I can fall back on.
DeleteOne thing is certain: God does not need our prayers. And I'd say it is equally certain that the dead (and living) do not need our prayers. It isn't a case of "six more Hail Marys from somebody, and I'm outta here." Still, God said pretty persistently, through our ancestors, that he wants praise -- not for his sake but for ours.
ReplyDeleteCommon Preface IV recognizes this explicitly:
"For, although you have no need of our praise,
yet our thanksgiving is itself your gift,
since our praises add nothing to your greatness
but profit us for salvation,
through Christ our Lord."
I think the Church promoted prayers for the dead in the first place to stress the continuity between this life and the next. So it came up with that militant-suffering-triumphant scenario to emphasize one-ness.
Or, (the way I really think of it), our shouting in a stadium -- or even at the television -- isn't going to add a foot of distance to an Aaron Rodgers pass or bring one of our linemen more quickly into the face of the opposing quarterback. But we do it anyway. As a matter of unity.
I have a separate point to make.
This is the separate point.
ReplyDeleteThe folks who pray outside the abortion clinic are particularly guilty of this, but it goes around in Catholic circles: "Storming heaven" with our prayers. As if God is hunkered down behind a wall reading a good book, and only if we make a helluva racket and maybe knock a few stones out of the wall will he put down his Wodehouse and pay attention. God is gonna do what God is gonna do, and he will be smarter about it than the explicit instructions our attack team gives him.
Tom, I think with those who pray in front of the abortion clinic it is a prayer of witness. They are hoping to change hearts, both by being there, and through intercession.
DeleteThough I had to smile at your image of God in a corner reading Wodehouse.
Prayer, whether of praise or petition, is more about us rather than about God, who and what we think are important.
ReplyDeleteI prefer to stick with the official prayers of the liturgy rather than improvise my own.
However there are many people who do pray very aggressively and particularly for persons and things that they think are important. I suspect God is very tolerant of most of these child-like attempts to assist in the micromanagement the universe.
I'm with David. Except that I don't think praying for the dead shortens their time in purgatory, if there is such a thing. I tend to agree with him on that also. But the very notion that people on this earth can essentially bribe God to shorten purgatory for their loved ones is opposed to my understanding of God's nature.
ReplyDeleteI also don't think God would play favorites. God created all human beings, and the vast majority of them are not RC. If they don't have an RC friend or relative to pray for their souls in purgatory, is God going to punish them for this failure to have Catholic friends and relatives?
Agree with Tom that God has no need for our prayers. Prayer is for us. However, unlike Jack I seldom pray using rote prayers and liturgy does not move me. Instead, I tend to carry on a running conversation with God in my head. That's why I have to sit in silence for a while, so that I can get my voice out of my head, and maybe hear God's voice instead.
Anne, I think you make a good point that prayer is a conversation.
DeleteIt's a theme running through the Scriptures, particularly the Gospels, about the importance of perseverance in prayer. Among other things it's about keeping the lines of communication open. Nowadays we wouldn't send a child away from home without a cell phone. When I was a girl it was, "Always carry a quarter in your pocket in case you need to call home." And, "Do call home sometimes." God thinks prayer is important. Whether or not prayer, in some way that we don't understand, directly helps the living or the dead, it is an expression of love and solidarity for those we are praying for.
Katherine, You just made me feel really ancient. When I was a boy, it was a nickel to call home. I remember the furor when it went up to a dime.
DeleteThe comments here point to prayer as connectivity with our living brethren, our dead brethren and God. If our physical actions make a difference and our mental actions make a difference, why can't prayer make a difference in the unfolding of existence, seen and unseen?. Not logical, I suppose, but logic never helped me much with understanding quantum mechanics to the limited extent I do. Leaps of imagination seemed to be more useful.
ReplyDeleteI cling to the notion that there is a point to praying for others. It may be along the lines of what Anne noted: God desires that we have a relationship with him, and relationships are sustained through communication. There are also those parables - the one about the persistent widow, and the one about the guy who rouses his friend at midnight to cadge some food - which suggest that God likes to be asked for help. I know people like that, too.
ReplyDeletePrayer was always my "way in" to the Mystery back when I was a "heathen," so I have some strong feelings about it, despite the fact that my prayers and purposes are often inchoate and non-verbal. Often I "assume the position" of prayer and tell God to read what's in my heart. (And I apologize for the quotation marks.) I also apologize in advance for the length of this comment, but appreciate the chance to articulate these ideas.
ReplyDeleteItem: I think God DOES need our prayers. To use a flawed analogy, God is an artist, and art does not exist in a vaccuum. Artists need an audience and feedback. Critics, if you will. Even a "why is this happening for Pete's sake, you sadistic S.O.B.?" is an affirmation that God exists for you.
Item: We need to acknowledge to the Universe when we have screwed up or when we appreciate something. It should lead us to some kind of tangible action. But I don't believe that's being toted up on a Big Board somewhere.
Item: A woman in my cancer group has had a stem-cell transplant. The chances of it working are just about nil. But she has children at home and she wants to see them graduate, so she's pursuing whatever treatment her insurance will allow. She posts videos for us every few days as she awaits that two week point when she finds out if all the grueling prep she did for the SCT is actually going to work. She is bored, she is hungry, she is sick, she is cheerful, she is scared. We all post encouragement, links to computer games, and eating suggestions. And we all tell here we're praying or sending her good energy or whatever. I pray because I am grateful for her willingness to let us into her life and better understand this treatment option. What God does with that feedback is up to God. But God needs to hear it.
Item: My mother hated religion, so at her death bed, all I could think of to do was to sing to her. My mother and I had a fraught relationship, but she used to be very proud of my singing when I was a kid (I even had some gigs at local coffeehouses as a teenager). So I asked the nurses to dim the lights, turn off the beeping machines, close the door, and I sang "Amazing Grace," which was a song she liked, until she died. And the whole time I was singing, I was also praying in my head. What for? I don't know. That it wouldn't hurt, that she wouldn't be scared, that despite her being a pretty awful mother, God would see the good in her and not judge her by my standards.
Item: Jim said he prays for people because, I assume, he feels they have been so terrible that he feels God needs someone to speak for them. If I were one of his "bad souls," I would be tempted to say, "Keep your damn prayers. God sees into my heart, you don't. Pray to be less judgmental and self-righteous" BUT those prayers are also a way for God to see into Jim's heart. And God will sweep away whatever is flawed in his motives and get to the good and caring part. Our prayers are always tainted.
Item: I "heard" God three times between the ages of 38 and 50. During none of those times was I doing anything to "channel" God through CP, meditation, or whatever. I didn't especially want these experiences. I talked to our Episcopal priest after the first time, mostly because I thought I probably needed a shrink. He assured me that he had heard of these types of things, but to see a shrink by all means if it was bothering me. The shrink and my family doctor (who were both Catholics at the time) concurred with the priest--I was not nuts, nor had I had a psychotic episode. No, I am not going to talk about the specifics; they were mundane and fleeting. But these experiences lead me to believe that prayers are kind of like putting comments in a Celestial Suggestion Box. The Suggestion Box allows you to get something off your chest, like when you praise or criticize your Starbucks coffee. But the Box is not God (or Starbucks). God responds, if at all, when God feels like it. Like Starbucks.
So sorry, somehow I had missed this wonderful comment until now. Your "Amazing Grace" story does indeed sound like a grace-filled moment.
DeleteRegarding "hearing" God: personally, I think those mystical experiences (if I may call them that) are extraordinarily important. For me, they're fleeting and unpredictable. Probably if I were a better pray-er, I'd be able to have that sort of communion with God more frequently.
Jean, thanks for sharing your understandings of prayer. You have, as usual, given me something to think about.
ReplyDeleteRe the woman with the stem cell transfer. I do hope it does work. When I once mentioned to our EC priest that I don't believe in intercessory prayer (because of course, every Sunday there is a list of people who need prayers) he told me that he feels they do make a difference, even if the outcome isn't the one hoped for in terms of illness or addiction or whatever.
He believes that prayers, especially when multiplied by many people, support the person being prayed for emotionally and spiritually because of the positive energy (for lack of a better word) that is transferred from the pray-ers to the one prayed for. That made some sense to me, because of the telepathic experiences I had 20+ years ago. I believe that we understand very little of how our minds work, their capabilities. A common example is found with identical twins. It is often reported that they can be far apart physically, but bound in their minds. A lifelong friend of mine has twin sisters, and she said they have communicated non-verbally throughout their lives, when not together physically, usually when one is under some kind of emotional stress. One twin "hears" her sister's need and reaches out.
Thanks for those thoughts, Anne. I belive you are right that there is so much we don't understand about how our minds work. About twins, I had identical twin aunts. Family members often commented that they seemed to be on a "wavelength" with each other, even though they lived in different states during their working lives.
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