Prayer

Since I’m out here as a Jesuit on a mission, if a novice still, I thought I’d take the time to speak a bit on my spiritual life. It’s funny: we can get very focused on externals that it’s easy to omit in conversation what is a fairly large piece of my mental landscapeThe presence of God permeates every detail. Not just the beauty, such as the gold and silver waterfall of rain falling through the bright sunlight but in the dull smudge of whiteboard marker on my thumb or the hum of music far away. It’s a question of whether I’m attentive to that presence.

I pray a lot about my work; I pray for inspiration and help to respond with a ‘yes’ to the plan of God in the lives of my students. I listen carefully to where they are at and where they want to be going – and I offer my perspective. But success is not having them go where I want them to be. Rather it is us journeying together to a God who leads us all beyond the scope of our personal vision.

Sometimes this really clicks. Other days, it just seems that everybody’s attention wanders to the four winds. I have learned that getting angry or frustrated by this never helps. Laughing and starting over from a fresh point of view is often the best response. Or if necessary, reminding the students firmly that this is my class and that I expect their respect and attention. The worst I’ve ever had to do is send a guy out to stand in the hall. These kids want to be here and want to learn. They just need a reminder sometimes.

Daily mass is at the small chapel in our house. It’s about the size of one of the bedrooms and has loudly buzzing fluorescent lights. There are two small, rickety old pews on either side of the room before a large altar. Upon the altar usually stands a cross made of glass and two candles.

I like to serve the altar and read the scriptures at mass; most days it ends up being me who does it. We’ve been going through the book of Sirach, in which there is a passionate plea for wisdom. Not for its own sake but as a pathway to God. It connects with something the Father General said during his time here about celebrating failures.

Wisdom comes not from treasures or power but from humble supplication before God and from desire to do justice. Thus a wise man may be materially poor but spiritually wealthy.

The Society of Jesus has had some landmark material successes: some of the finest education in the world, brilliant scholarship, and daring missionary work that built up the church in all the corners of the world.

But the General suggested that these things only have value insofar as they were undertaken to serve God. And many material failures were also undertaken to serve God as well. Ships wrecked before reaching shore, missions that began well but fizzled out. Schemes that were tried and failed. These things were also undertaken to serve God out of love and generosity of heart. People gave their all for them. And we ought to celebrate that too – regardless of whether it seemed ‘successful’. In the end, success is not something we can manufacture by our skill but is a gift from God. What we can do is give our hearts, pouring out our best with trust and care.

So that’s what I try to do.

My private prayer and meditation is also helped by the (relatively) quiet evenings. I love to sit on the porch and watch the glimmering lights of the houses on the mountains above. I might also slowly ponder the readings of the day. They mix and blend with the events of my own day, giving each a new colour.

Whenever I fuss about a problem or a fear, rarely does prayer present an intellectual solution. That often comes later. Prayer seems to put the problem in God’s context. If I am worried whether I am doing enough at work, instead of calculating my maximum possible effort, God’s presence invites me to let it go. And gradually there surfaces a desire: the desire that my attitude would be to give without counting the cost. I realize intellectually that such an attitude is hard to cultivate. And my prayer becomes a request for the gift of humility and generosity. So too with all my other attitudes, hopes, and fears.

There are down moments: feelings of being tired or feeling unable to break from habits. At these time, prayer is a blind groping. But it is far better to grope than curl up and do nothing.

And, last but not least, there are surprises. Flashes of feeling or ideas that seem to come at any time and shake me out of thinking about myself. They cause me to look outward with awe. These gift moments are sweet and refreshing. And they have a sense of ‘reality’ about them. They make me really look at the world.

I hope this little exploration helps you to see into my world as well. I pray for each of you, especially my community, my friends and family, the homeless folks I’ve met, the community and the school here, and all those who have asked me to pray for them. May blessings find you in unexpected places.