Showing posts with label Liturgy of the Hours. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Liturgy of the Hours. Show all posts

Thursday, April 11, 2019

Praying in the name of the church


The Liturgy of the Hours

The night of my ordination as deacon, I experienced Evening Prayer of the Liturgy of Hours in a completely new way.

I have been praying parts of the Liturgy of the Hours for decades. I began as a kid, praying parts of Liturgical Press’ A Short Breviary. For years I have tried to pray Morning Prayer (Lauds) and Evening Prayer (Vespers). When I lived in Ames I would often get up early and pray in a special prayer corner or in a rocking chair on a semi-enclosed porch when the weather was right.  Since November 2005, when I found the updated Short Breviary I have been nurtured most mornings with the Office of Readings from Benedictine Daily Prayer.

But the evening of July 14, 2016, I went up to pray in my prayer room and realized I was praying with the whole Church.

During the ordination of a deacon, the bishop asks the elect if he is willing to maintain the spirit of prayer. In English it reads:

Are you resolved to maintain and deepen a spirit of prayer appropriate to your way of life and, in keeping with what is required of you, to celebrate faithfully the liturgy of the hours for the Church and for the whole world?

But the question I heard that day in Spanish was a little different.
¿Quieres mantener y fomentar el espíritu de oración que corresponde a su manera de vida y, en este espíritu, según su estado, cumplir fielmente con la celebración de la liturgia  de las horas, en nombre de la Iglesia, más aún, en nombre de toda la comunidad?

I was being asked to pray the Liturgy of the Hours not merely for the Church and the whole world, but in the name of the church and all the community.

When I pray the Liturgy of the Hours, I am not praying alone. I am praying “in the name” of the church.

That even I realized that the prayers may not respond to where I am personally.

I seldom feel like cursing the children of Babylon, as in Psalm 137: 9. But there may be persons in the church and the wider world who are suffering so much that they wish the worst for their enemies.

I may not be feel all elated and justified, as in Psalm 118. But there are people who have lived faithfully and can pray this psalm without hypocrisy.

I may not be downcast, as in Psalm143. In fact, I may be feeling joyful, at peace. But there are people who are downcast, depressed, even to the point of considering suicide.

But I can pray in their name, to the God we share, in the community we share.

Just a few months ago, I finished Fr. Ronald Rolheiser’s One Great Act of Fidelity.  As I read his chapter, “The Eucharist as the Priestly Prayer of Christ,” I was led back to the night of my ordination.

In priestly prayer, we pray not just for ourselves, nor ideally by ourselves, but we pray as a microcosm of the whole world, even as we pray for the whole world. In this kind of prayer. we lift up our voices to God, not as a private offering, but in such a way as to give a voice to the Earth itself. (p. 91)

Rolheiser sees Lauds and Vespers as the ordinary priestly prayer of the laity.

…what is important in praying them is to remember that these are not prayers that we say for ourselves, nor indeed prayers whose formulae we need to find meaningful or relevant. Unlike private prayer and contemplation, where we should change methods whenever praying becomes too dry or sterile, Lauds and Vespers are prayers of the universal church that are in essence intended to be communal and priestly. They don’t have to be relevant for our private lives. We pray them as elders, as baptized adults, as priests, to invoke God’s blessing upon the world. And whenever we do pray them, we are, in microcosm, the voice, body, and soul of the Earth itself, continuing the high priesthood of Christ, as we offer prayers and entreaties, aloud and in silent tears, to a God who can save us. (pp. 92-94)

So, this Lent I have tried to be a little more open to praying even more in the name of the Church and the whole world – with the people I serve, with friends [and enemies] scattered far and wide, and with creation itself.

Rolheiser’s words put it simply, in words that touch this deacon’s heart:

…the church’s liturgical prayer is for the world, not for itself. The church, in this world, does not exist for its own sake, but as an instrument of salvation for the world. Its function is to save the world, not itself. In liturgical prayer we pray with Christ, through the church, but for the world. (pp.88-89)

Even better, we pray in the name of all God’s people scattered throughout the world, and in the name of all creation.



My practice of praying the Liturgy of the Hours is a bit idiosyncratic. I usually pray the Office of Readings from Benedictine Daily Prayer, unless it is a Franciscan feast and then I often use the propers of the feast from the Franciscan Supplement to the Liturgy of the Hours.
I usually pray the psalms of Lauds and Vespers in Spanish, but I usually use the hymn from Benedictine Daily Prayer. For the other prayers of Lauds and Vespers, I use those of Benedictine Daily Prayer or, occasionally, Franciscan Morning and Evening Praise.
 I do pray two hours in English, from A Shorter Morning and Evening Prayer: Monday Vespers and Friday Lauds because I like the translation of the Monday canticle and Psalm 51.
For Night Prayer, I use the little booklet from the US Catholic Bishops Conference. Recently, I have often been substituting the general closing prayer for the special ones. Here is a version of that prayer:
Visit, we beseech you, O Lord, this dwelling and drive from it all the snares of the enemy. Let your holy angels dwell here to preserve us in peace….

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Ten days a deacon

On Friday, July 15, I was ordained a permanent deacon for the diocese of Santa Rosa de Copán, a diocese where I worked as a lay missionary since June 2007.

Now ordained, I feel more a member of this place and much less a missionary from without. In fact, I am now a member of the clergy of this diocese. My ministerial identity is as a deacon here – no longer as a missionary from outside.

But in some ways there is not a lot different in what I’m doing, especially since I’ve been living in a village in the parish of Dulce Nombre. I’m still preparing for training sessions for catechists; I’m still connecting with the youth leaders of youth groups and base communities; I’m still taking part in the parish council; I’m still bringing communion to the sick and occasionally to communities without extraordinary ministers of Communion.

But in many ways life has changed.

At Masses, I proclaim the Gospel, the Good News that sustains me and that offers hope to our people.

I have preached twice – last Sunday at the Mass of Thanksgiving and today at Mass in Concepción.

When I go visit the sick, I bring them Communion as I have before, but before leaving them I can bless them, in the name of the Church, with the Sign of the Cross. I am not blessing them from myself; but the blessing I can share is the blessing of God through the whole People of God gathered with the sick.

There is something about blessing people with the sign of the cross that I need to reflect on more.

People here are big on blessings. Often when a person encounters a god-parent, he or she will join the hands together and often bow before the god-parent who often places the god-child’s hands between his or her hands. The first time I saw this it struck me as a great sign of blessing and the importance of the relation between god-child and god-parent. What is especially fascinating is that the god-children are not only kids; I have often seen adults seek their god-parents’ blessings.

In light of this, blessing a person with the Sign of the Cross becomes for me an action that the community does, through me, blessing persons.

Toward I found this particularly poignant as I visited three ill people in their homes in Vertientes, after a Celebration of the Word with Communion with members of the community. In many ways, I felt blessed to be able to share God’s blessings with these elderly and ill persons in their poor houses.

But the big event was yesterday in Quebraditas. Even though Padre German presided at the Mass (the second of three he’d celebrated Saturday), he asked me to baptize the babies and little children at the Mass – all twenty of them. It was a new experience – squirming and screaming babies and proud parents and god-parents.

Again, it was a blessing to share God’s love with them through this sacrament.

This week promises some new experiences – including assisting at a Mass with First Communions.

But there was one other experience that stirred my heart.

The evening after my ordination, I arrived home and after talking with Phil who was visiting from St. Thomas Aquinas in Ames, I went up to pray.

For many years I have prayed parts of the Liturgy of Hours. I have tried every morning to pray Vigils from Benedictine Daily Prayer, followed by Morning Prayer in Spanish. I have tried to pray Evening Prayer in Spanish and at least parts of Night Prayer in English (accompanied by an Ignatian Examen.)

Now I have become more focused in praying these because at my ordination I promised to celebrate the Liturgy of the Hours “in the name of the Church and, even more so, in the name of the whole community.” (The English translation speaks of celebrating for the Church and the whole world.)

That first evening as I prayed the psalms I had a sense that I was not just praying for the Church and the world but in the name of the Church and the whole community,

The psalms were not only my prayer; they are the prayer of the People of God and of all God’s people in the world. Though I may not be experiencing the joy or the desperation of a particular psalm, there are people in the church and the world who are filled with joy, or suffering from anxiety and despair. When I am praying, I am praying with them, offering their joys and sighs to God.

Praying the Liturgy of the Hours thus becomes for me not only a way to praise God with the Church and the world; it is a way of being in solidarity with all God’s people; it is a way to accompany them in the presence of God – even accompanying those who do not know God or reject God.


So what is new about these ten days as a deacon?

I have a sense of the presence of God’s grace surrounding me and sustaining me.

I have a sense of being more connected with God’s people especially the sick and the poor.

I have a renewed sense of mission, of calling to accompany even more the poor.

I am challenged and encouraged by these words of Blessed Charles de Foucauld, the universal Little Brother:
Jesus came to Nazareth, the place of the hidden life, of ordinary life, of family life, of prayer, work, obscurity, silent virtues, practiced with no witnesses other than God, his friends and neighbors. Nazareth, the place where most people lead their lives. We must infinitely respect the least of our brothers… let us mingle with them. Let us be one of them to the extent that God wishes… and treat them fraternally in order to have the honor and joy of being accepted as one of them.
That is what I pray that I may continue to learn.