Tuesday, 30 July 2019

17th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C 2019

You know the terrible twos. What they called a young child when he turns the corner of one? It seems that the cute little toddler has developed a Frankie’s complex and only wants to do things his way. I think this syndrome is not just restricted to a terrible two-year old child. Adults are frequently like that.

For we adults bring “my way” into our prayers too. The central theme of today’s Gospel and the first reading is prayer. Abraham pleaded with God to spare the lives of the people on account of what good the Lord can see in the few. Jesus taught the Disciples not a method of praying but rather the very Prayer itself which we devoutly termed as the Lord’s Prayer.

Unfortunately, a prayer such as the Our Father, locates it within the tradition of formulaic prayer. This type of prayer sounds like a mindless litany of repetitive chanting which in the context of today’s intentionality falls within the category of mumbo jumbo. Intentionality just means that we need the “head” to be in what we are doing in order for it to be meaningful. Curious that we are, we want to “understand” so that we can say that whatever we experience, it “means” something. Thus, if one were to do something mindlessly, it somehow slides down the scale of “meaningfulness”. Like household chores for example. Since the intellect is engaged in the search for meaning, it follows that any action one engages in has got to make sense. Interestingly, we associate understanding with the phrase “make sense” which then relegates the intellect to the realm of feeling. However, the intellect is primarily the organ of truth. It hones in on truth but when we subvert truth with meaning, it does not take far for truth to be tethered to feelings. How often is it that we define truth by how we feel? For example, when a marriage has no more “feelings”, does it drop off the scale of meaning? When there is no more excitement in the marriage, is the love less true? Our divorce rate seems to confirm that it is.

With feeling as a canon for meaningfulness, then out goes the Hail Mary or Glory Be. Even the Lord’s Prayer will not be spared. There was a time when we used to give a patronising nod to those who come for Mass but ended up saying the rosary. Why? Because these people have no understanding of “active participation”—which translates to a necessity of the mind understanding in order to derive or elicit meaning. In effect, formulaic repetitive prayers are for the less clever and also for the less capable, namely older people. This is a category which does not amount to any significance in the larger schema of urgency. Let me be clear that I am not deriding or insulting people who pray the rosary or the chaplet of mercy even if it feels like I am.

No. Instead, let me jump to something which Pope Benedict in his first encyclical highlighted. He brought up the priority of prayer in the context of pressing needs—which is a catchphrase for the “larger schema of urgency”. He pointed out that “Prayer, as a means of drawing ever new strength from Christ, is concretely and urgently needed. People who pray are not wasting their time, even though the situation appears desperate and seems to call for action alone. Piety does not undermine the struggle against the poverty of our neighbours, however extreme. In the example of Blessed (now Saint) Teresa of Calcutta we have a clear illustration of the fact that time devoted to God in prayer not only does not detract from effective and loving service to our neighbour but is in fact the inexhaustible source of that service. In her letter for Lent 1996, Blessed (now Saint) Teresa wrote to her lay co-workers: “We need this deep connexion with God in our daily life. How can we obtain it? By prayer”.[1]

To be fair, Benedict XVI did not make any distinction between mindful and mindless prayer. However, one may still detect a certain hubris amongst the learned, a kind of arrogance which we may not articulate and this pride considers prayer (especially the repetitive type) as being “mindless” when measured against what one can do and achieve. When praying we need an intention or we set a goal but when praying the Hail Mary over and again and nothing seems to happen, it does not take much to conclude that mindless prayers are ineffective.

Prayer, if anything, denotes a relationship with God. We would like to think of Abraham as shrewd in his negotiating skills to the point of human triumph over the divine where he almost twisted God’s arm into submission. But what Abraham did was no more than what Jesus tells us to do: Ask, knock and be persistent in seeking. However, the asking was not in any way a one-way street sort of “gimme, gimme, gimme”. There was reasoning in such a way that Abraham pleaded for the lives of those whom in God’s vision appeared less deserving of life. And if we consider the image given to us in the Apocalypse, that is, of the Lord knocking at our door, we can appreciate that God kept the conversation with Abraham because He too is searching for a relationship with us.

Asking is relational. In our case, it also expresses a relationship of dependence. If you give it a further thought, much of our praying is not relational in the deeper sense of the word. Apparently, I am told, the collection this weekend will drop. Why? Bukit Mertajam. If you cannot venture that far north, then perhaps Port Klang. If that is not possible, you might aim for Alor Gajah. If that is out of the way, you can settle for Pamol Estate. St Anne is the miracle. Shrines are popular because they are linked to asking and at first glance, it is a fulfilment of Jesus’ command to ask.

But, is there true dependence when we ask? In these hallowed and sacred places, it is often the case that people ask in desperation. There is nothing wrong with that. They should. However, when they are not in desperation, what happens? What sort of relationship do people, who are not desperate, have with God?

It is often the situation, that we ask, based not on our dependence on God, but only because we are incapable. I used to attend meetings of altar servers in the previous parish where they would start off with a prayer and I would laugh out loud at the end. It sounded something like this: “Dear Lord, we pray that our meeting will not be a failure and that we can proceed with what we have planned”. It is a prayer that exemplifies the reality that God is no more than a fail-safe “device” or entity. Why? We are self-sufficient and our relationship with Him is only as much as He could and we hope that He would, prevent us from suffering the fate of failure.

Prayer symbolises a relationship of dependence on God. In many instances, we enter into it with a sense of entitlement and God’s role in prayer is to answer and bow down to our will. Whereas, real prayer recognises our dependence on Him. But, for a society that is self-sufficient and technologically powerful, prayer merely stands in when we are impotent or incapacitated. We pray not because we dependent. Instead, we only turn to God when we cannot depend on ourselves. The point is, can or cannot, our relationship with God is always one of dependence.

In the same encyclical Benedict XVI reminds our self-surfeited society, “it is time to reaffirm the importance of prayer in the face of the activism and the growing secularism of many Christians engaged in charitable work. Clearly, the Christian who prays does not claim to be able to change God's plans or correct what he has foreseen. Rather, he seeks an encounter with the Father of Jesus Christ, asking God to be present with the consolation of the Spirit to him and his work”.[2]

I am not mocking or demeaning anyone who turns to prayers in desperation or when in need. By all means do so because Jesus did tell us to ask, to seek and to knock. However, go deeper. Enter further into the relationship trust and reliance because we will always need God whether we want Him or not, whether in desperation or not. Our lives depend on Him whether we are aware or not. Prayer merely grounds this existential reality. So, let us never cease to pray.


[1] Deus caritas est, 36

[2] Deus caritas est, 37