Last September, I began a 9-month Ignatian Spirituality program (Spiritual Exercises in Everyday Life or SEEL) through a local Franciscan spirituality center, with the goal of being more intentional in attending to my own spiritual health. That program now is drawing to a close. To be honest, I’m so glad the 9-months are nearly over! Two reasons. First, since Lent, I’ve been experiencing a sort of “liturgical whiplash” as the SEEL meditations often roam far afield from where we’re at in the liturgical calendar and the lectionary. Second, I seem to have reached a place in SEEL where my cup is full, if not overflowing. The meditations are arriving in my email inbox faster than I can truly engage with or pray them. And so, I am printing the incoming meditations and setting them carefully aside (for now). In the meantime, I have returned to several of the earlier meditations. I’m now savoring these at my own pace.
That said, I think that the SEEL program has been good for my prayer life. SEEL has helped me notice and appreciate the spontaneous moments of prayer that emerge unbidden amidst my days. I’ve always known that I’m prone to drifting off, captured by a glimpse of a bird or the movement of branches in the wind. SEEL helped me realize that these unguarded moments are far more than mere daydreaming; they are prayer. These are the moments where I rest most quietly in God’s presence. Moments (to paraphrase Jesuit priest James Martin) when I look upon God and God gazes back upon me.
SEEL also helped me notice a particular pattern in my approach to prayer. During Lent, I realized that I consistently began both SEEL meditations and the Daily Office by apologizing for my less-than-perfect prayer habits. It seemed as if every prayer began with “I’m sorry…I haven’t…I didn’t…I forgot…I overlooked…I was too busy…I started, but then got distracted…” Simply stated, I’d gotten so self-absorbed in enumerating my prayer inadequacies that I’d become lousy company for any sort of prayerful dialogue. And so, I decided to relinquish those apologies (at least for the duration of Lent). That is not to say that I stopped considering the quality of my prayer life. But, I don’t let myself get stuck there nearly as often. Being less judgmental about “doing prayer right” makes it easier for me to begin again, especially when a hectic day has derailed my efforts to be prayerful. It lets me actually pray, rather than just apologize about being bad at prayer. It helps me turn back toward God, over and over and over again.
(The icon of Ignatius under the stars was written by Fr. William McNichols and commissioned by Creighton University.)
I love your insight about the glimpse of a bird and other moments of "drifting off." As Raisin said in last Sunday's sermon (more or less; I may be remembering incorrectly), "Pray without ceasing. Use words if necessary."
ReplyDeleteUsually, I include the Confession at the beginning of the Daily Office for the very reason you describe. It is a way to "clear the air." Nonetheless, many are the times when I have rattled through the confession with half-attention, then beat myself up for not doing it with more intention. And then gone on through the Office with the same half-attention, my mind as much on other things as on what I am supposedly reading and praying. Still, it is better to pray badly than not at all.
I think the point of the Confession at that place in the liturgy is to help us acknowledge where and who we are, inadequacies and all, accept God's forgiveness (the hard part, in many respects), and only then be ready "to render thanks... to set forth his most worthy praise, to hear his holy Word, and to ask, for ourselves and on behalf of others, those things that are necessary for our life and our salvation" (BCP p. 41).
And I love the icon. It is beautiful.