A few years ago, I read a series of books that started me on a journey. Today, as I stand in front of a 20 foot tall statue mounted over the imposing doors to Saint Benedict’s Abbey Church at the Subiaco Abbey, I feel that I must be heading into a memorable part of the ride.
Kathleen Norris’ book, The Cloister Walk really rang a bell in me when I read it a few years ago. Basically, it tells the story (through journal entries) of a protestant woman who is tired at life and completely broken down with religion, finding personal relationship with God through the love and hospitality of the Benedictine Monastic tradition. Norris’ book emphasized some recurring themes in my life at that point, mainly humility, contentment, and quiet contemplation. The chapter on celibate passion especially challenged the way I viewed my relationship with the Father. Probably the most lasting effect of the book in my life was the introduction of the Liturgy of the Hours, or the Divine Office.
I learned that Benedictine Monks prayed 7 times a day from a liturgy that involved reading the scriptures, and praying the psalms. These prayers weren’t long drawn out services, but moments of pause in the rhythm of the day. The monks prayed these prayers individually and in community and always coupled with times of silence and meditation. I bought a copy of the Liturgy of the Hours called Christian Prayer and with no formal instruction began in some small way to pray like the Benedictine monks.
For a while I followed the schedule with a watch. I set alarms to remind myself of my appointments with God. I thoroughly enjoyed praying the scriptures. Although reading prayers did not keep me from adding my own personal thoughts, I found that the written prayers and especially the psalms guided my thoughts and helped me pray in the right direction. To me, the pause from activity helped keep me calm. Even if just for 5 minutes in the middle of the afternoon, I felt somehow at peace.
Along the same time, Jennifer was pregnant with Zoe, our 4th. Many complications and lots of doctor’s visits found me relying on prayer times to make it through. I will never forget the night that Zoe was born. We had been involved in a 2 day ordeal that ended in Jennifer being induced. The evening was spent in stress, as Jennifer began to have contractions, and the doctors and nurses worried about our baby’s heart rate and brainwaves. It all came to point around midnight, when it seemed that our baby, yet unborn, might be dying. They rushed Jennifer out to perform an emergency C-section. I was abruptly told that I could not come with them, and was left in the room with Jennifer’s mom, Judy.
We began again to pray, as we had been all night. I picked up my prayer book. As I paced nervously around the room, I prayed:
Out of the depth I cry to you, O Lord
Lord, hear my voice!
O let your ears be attentive
To the voice of my pleadings. (Psalm 130)
I told the Lord that I was afraid, that I feared for the life of my wife and for the life of our baby. I cried and my heart raced.
It would make a great story to tell you that everything slowed down, and all became immediately calm, but it wasn’t just like that. It was more subtle, but nonetheless very real to me. In that 15-20 minutes while we paced around the hospital room, I was more aware than ever before in my life that God was hearing my prayer. I didn’t know how He was going to answer, or what the next word that I would hear from the doctors would be, I just felt so sure that God was being very attentive to our prayers.
Almost daily as I pray I hear the voice of God speaking to me. Although it seems sort of strange, I have found a sense on stability and reality in observing the hours. I haven’t always been completely diligent. I don’t pray every office right out of the book, right on time, but it has helped me make prayer a larger part of my life.
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