Marc Chagall, The Praying Jew
On most days my wife and I do our “fixed-time” praying at 8 in the morning and 5 in the evening. Most of the time we simply drop whatever we’re doing, sit down, open up our prayerbooks, and, as we sometimes say, “go to it.” What we really mean, of course, is that we want to “go to God.” Our going usually takes about twenty minutes (a little more in the evening when we make our intercessions), and then we return to whatever else we need to do. Daily prayer is thus something of an twice-daily interruption, two short openings in the day.
When I’m alone, however, I’m finding that my sense of “fixed-time” praying is under expansion so that more of each day is now opening up to “going to God.” One addition to my habit of prayer is especially proving helpful, and I like to share how it is that I came upon it.
On a Friday two weeks ago a group from St. John Lutheran Church and I spent the evening at B’nai Israel synagogue in Fayetteville, Georgia, joining our Reformed Jewish brothers and sisters in their Sabbath worship. Using their service book, Gates of Prayer, I mumbled my way through transliterations of Hebrew, listened to a good talk by the rabbi, and managed, at least a little bit, to acquaint myself with a spattering of Jewish prayer life. As I opened Gates of Prayer, I found this sentence on page 3:
The pious ones of old used to wait a whole hour before praying, the better to concentrate their minds on God.
Reading that sentence took me back a bit! Instead of dropping everything and jumping into prayer, the “pious ones” apparently spent considerable prayer time preparing for prayer. Since reading that observation, I’ve tried to put its suggestion into practice by slightly changing how I begin evening and morning prayers now that I’m alone at the lakehouse.
Here’s how it is working for me. Instead of turning off the TV or coming in from some outside chore and entering prayer a few seconds later, I’m now deliberately settling into prayer with more preparatory silence. First, I light the votive candle before icons of the Lord Jesus and His Mother. Then I sit down and carefully preview what I’ll read in my prayer book and place my book marks accordingly so that I won’t need to fumble around later on. I check my church calendar to make sure that I’m not overlooking something or someone special to the day. Next I turn the day’s pages and find out what psalms and lessons are appointed for the day so as to alert myself as to reading surprises I may encounter. Next I see what hymn is to be sung (or chose one), and if I don’t know the tune, I take the time to finger a nearby keyboard, learning the melody if that’s necessary. All of this I do slowly. I’m in no rush.
I then look over my list of names of people who have asked for intercessions. Now and then I’ll pencil in an additional name that comes to mind. With my list updated, I then begin to review my own life for several minutes. If I’m in Morning Prayer, I reflect upon what happened since yesterday’s Evening Prayer. Did I do or not do anything that needs to be brought before God. In the evening I review the whole day, examining personal motives, examining my conscious, noting especially where repentance is required and necessary. I make a mental list of thanksgivings and praises I want to offer to God. Once in a while I’ll look over my daily planner’s “to do” list to see if something was left undone that may need immediate attention during and after prayer.
What used to be about twenty minutes or so of “fixed-hour” praying is now turning out to take about twice as long. Everything is slowly down. I find myself more relaxed, centered, and settled. It’s certainly not “a whole hour before praying,” but it is way of coming before God with more awareness and attention. Perhaps it’s close to what the pious ones meant when they recommended praying before praying.
In Gates of Prayer, there’s this little story, also on page 3:
The REBBE [rabbi] of Tsanz was asked by a Chasid [Hasidic friend], “What does the Rabbi do before praying?” “I pray,” was the reply, “that I may be able to pray properly.”
Two Fridays ago in their synagogue, God showed me how He can help me in my prayer life, and I learned a lot from my Jewish friends. This week I’m beginning to realize that some time spent praying before praying helps my prayer life.
Tags: Marc Chagall