Wednesday, March 2, 2022

3/2/22

A couple of months ago, I wrote:

Prayer. I hear a lot of people criticize prayer and the uselessness of it, and I find my agreeing on a superficial level but definitely not on a deeper, more contemplative one.

Prayer, to me, is many things, things that go beyond empty words and magical thinking. Prayer can also be an act of contemplation. An ignition of a spark of hope when we have no other reason to endure. A silent cry of desperation or anguish or remorse when we're at our darkest and alone. A genuine desire for happiness and peace and a mental act of compassion. A reaching out of the heart towards others, ourselves, and the infinite all. And last but not least, an intention that conditions action, one ideally arising out of love and free from greed, anger, and delusion.

I think that many people have a misunderstanding of what prayer is, especially following a tragic event or some difficult news. People will often offer their "thoughts and prayers" and not much else, and many people (rightly I think) get upset when that's the extent of the general reaction. It does appear empty many times. But I see prayer as much more than that, and I believe such an understanding is a spiritually immature one. While the idea of prayer is often boiled down to 'just wish for something you want to happen,' and viewed by many as an empty gesture wholly without substance, I think it's actually more akin to the Buddhist kamma, i.e., an intention that translates into action of body, speech, and mind. Thus, prayer is intimately tied to action.

For example, from the Catholic point of view, as Pope Francis stressed in one of his Sunday Angelus messages in 2013, "Prayer that doesn't lead to concrete action toward our brothers [and sisters] is a fruitless and incomplete prayer ... prayer and action must always be profoundly united. [...] Together, they are 'essential.' Prayer and action 'should never be separated, but lived in profound unity and harmony.'" Moreover, prayer is the foundation of all charitable works, and as he also noted, the motto of the father of Christian monasticism, St. Benedict, was 'ora et labora' ("prayer and work"), further illustrating the intimate connection between the two. And this idea can be found in other religious traditions as well.

Prayer is the heart in action. Ultimately, prayer is more than the ignorance of fools, even if the fools far outnumber the wise (although we're all fools sometimes). I feel as if most of the time, I'm just passing the time until I die. But prayer is when I'm truly living. Most people won't understand what that means, but perhaps some will.


And the idea behind it was that prayer and action should be intimately tied together. And while an act of the heart/mind is itself an action, oftentimes we fail to translate those acts of heart/mind into more tangible words and physical actions that can make an equal difference, if not more so. And I was reminded of this at last night's Ash Wednesday service at St. Andrew Lutheran Church, which I went to after work. Part of the homily as well as the closing benediction was a beautiful expression of this idea in the form of a poem written by Rabbi Jack Riemer, which expresses it far better than anything I could write:

We cannot pray to You, O God,
to banish war,
for You have filled the world
with paths to peace,
if only we would take them.

We cannot pray to You
to end starvation,
for there is food enough for all,
if only we would share it.

We cannot merely pray
for prejudice to cease,
for we might see
the good in all
that lies before our eyes,
if only we would use them.

We cannot merely pray
"Root out despair,"
for the spark of hope
already waits within the human heart,
for us to fan it into flame.

We must not ask of You, O God,
to take the task that You
have given us.
We cannot shirk,
we cannot flee away,
Avoiding obligation for ever.

Therefore we pray, O God,
for wisdom and will, for courage
to do and to become,
not only to look on
with helpless yearning
as though we had no strength.

For Your sake and ours
speedily and soon, let it be:
that our land may be safe,
that our lives may be blessed.


It seemed not only a perfect addendum to this thought, but a perfect beginning for Lent since, at least to me, Lent is less about ourselves and more about our actions towards others, about countering pride with humility, countering anger with forgiveness, countering greed with generosity, countering our worldly addictions and pleasures with self-discipline, countering our acts of harm and wrongdoing with repentance, etc. Just as Jesus prepared himself for 40 days before beginning his public ministering, we're encouraged to prepare ourselves to follow in his footsteps. And all of that goes a long way towards making the world both a spiritually and materially better place.

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