The Prayer Battle

Do you ever struggle to pray?  It is far easier not to pray, to do the thousands upon thousands of things, duties and otherwise, that demand our attention.  We might even justify it as fulfilling the duty of the moment.

Prayer seems like such a simple action.  Yet somehow it demands more of us than anything else in our lives.

Lately, prayer and its various manifestations has been very much on my mind, but more on the subconscious level.  Scripture tells us to pray always.  In times of consolation that seems easy and prayer seems to flow as naturally as breath.  Yet in times of desolation it seems impossible to pray at all.

It is not only in the modern world that we experience the battle of prayer, however.  It is not because of the distractions of the computer and other technologies (although of course these don't help).  It really is part of the fundamental nature of the spiritual life that is so much a battle.  This fact came clear to me when I ran across a saying from the desert fathers that illuminates the reasons behind the battle of prayer that has gone on for centuries:

"The brethren asked him [Agathon] "Amongst all good works, which is the virtue which requires the greatest effort?"  He answered, "Forgive me, but I think there is no labor greater than that of prayer to God.  For every time a man wants to pray, his enemies, the demons, want to prevent him, for they know that it is only by turning him from prayer that they can hinder his journey.  Whatever good work a man undertakes, if he perseveres in it, he will attain rest.  But prayer is warfare to the last breath."  

The Sayings of the Desert Fathers

Clearly little has changed in regard to the struggles for prayer.  Perhaps the only change lies in the softness of our wills: we are little used to battle in these days of enlightenment and innovation.

We want what is easy and what feels good.  We imbibe from our culture the sense that what is right really does depend to a large extent upon what soothes our appetites.  We build up all these subtle machinations within ourselves to justify what we want to believe and to forget that we must deny ourselves, take up our cross daily, and follow Him.

But prayer is warfare to the last breath.

VIII. Jesus Consoles the Women of Jerusalem

And there followed him a great multitude of people, and of women, who bewailed and lamented him. But Jesus turning to them, said: Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not over me; but weep for yourselves, and for your children. Luke 23:27-28

The title of this station has always struck me. Of course it is often rendered in another less confusing fashion, but it is the strangeness of this particular title that draws my attention, and therefore my reflection.  How is it that Jesus consoles the women by telling them to weep for themselves and their children?  For surely that would not be cause for consolation, but rather desolation.  How could He intend to console them by telling them to weep at all?

So often He overturns our expectations.  We want Him to tell us that everything will be okay and by okay we mean that we and our loved ones will not have to suffer.

Yet He does not tell us that.  Rather, He tells us to weep for ourselves and for our children—He tells us we may grieve for the sins that we commit and will commit, lament our failings, and even mourn our losses.

The women did not need to weep for Him.  He knew perfectly well why He suffered: to bring us salvation.  It is only we who do not know why we suffer that deserve such pity. We deserve those loving women's tears—and our own tears—because we have no concept of the numinous quality of suffering and cannot grasp its salvific effect.  Only He could truly understand such a mystery.  Only He could bear all our sins in the cross, carrying us to the Father and pouring out the last drop of His blood for us.

Let us take consolation in that love then.  For that is the only place where we can find true consolation, especially when the way before us seems dark and those about us struggle mightily with sufferings that seem beyond their strength to bear.

We may weep for them and for ourselves.  Yet let those tears not be in vain: let our weeping be united with His sacrifice that they may bear fruit in abundance.

My Jesus, laden with sorrows, I weep for the offences I have committed against Thee, because of the pains they have deserved, and still more because of the displeasure they have caused Thee, who hast loved me so much.  It is Thy love, more than the fear of hell, which causes me to weep for my sins.  My Jesus, I love Thee more than myself; I repent of having offended Thee.  Never permit me to offend Thee again.  Grant that I may love Thee always; and then do with me what Thou wilt. (From the Stations of the Cross according to Saint Alphonsus Liguori.)

All Glory, Laud, and Honor

This beautiful hymn expresses so wonderfully the glorious praise heaped upon Christ as He made His glorious entry into Jerusalem.  Imagine all the people gathering in the streets, laying out their cloaks and palm branches and shouting Hosanna to the Son of David! as He fulfilled the scriptures by riding in on a donkey.  This glorious event was a recognition of Christ as fulfillment of the prophecies and as the King, the Messiah.

What happened to change so quickly the people's hearts that they should go from praising and glorifying Him to calling for His death?  For it was only a short time later that they shouted instead: Crucify Him!  Crucify Him! 

Is it not the same thing that happens in our own hearts?  When all goes well and we see the brilliant path of God's plan, we praise and glorify Him, but as soon as we face trouble and discouragement or no longer feel a desire to serve Him we want nothing to do with Him.

Again and again we face this reality through our lives.  We are uplifted on the waves of joy and delight in His consolations and then crushed beneath the weight of desolation.

As we come to know this pattern more deeply and to understand His love more fully, perhaps we shall be able to abandon ourselves more perfectly in both joys and sorrows.  May He grant us that grace as we enter this Holy Week with Him!