On Drawing Prayer Circles (Reprise)

[[Dear Sister, have you heard of the books referring to drawing a circle around one's biggest dreams or needs and then standing there until the prayer is answered? They are based on the Jewish legend of Honi who drew a circle and prayed for rain. He stayed inside the circle until it rained and it did! God answered Honi's Prayer! I just wondered what you thought of this approach to prayer.]]

Hi there. I have heard of the books and seen them advertised on Amazon, but I have not read them. The legend of Honi, however, is one I am somewhat familiar with. Honi, a first-century BC scholar who is sometimes called the "one who draws circles", was faced with the need for rain during a drought. He eventually drew a circle and announced to God that he was not going to move until God sent rain. It was Winter, the rainy season when he did this. When a smattering of rain came Honi announced to God that that was not enough and reiterated his intention to remain there until there was real rain. There was a downpour and at this point, Honi told God he wanted (or the people of Israel needed) a quieter, less destructive rain; he said he would continue to stay in the circle until God sent that instead. At this point, there came a quieter rain which the ground could drink up and which would not be destructive because of flooding, mudslides, etc.

What is important to remember however are the two responses this action drew from Jews. Some excommunicated Honi because he had indeed blasphemed God by his actions. Others (a Queen) excused him saying he had a special relationship with God. There is ambiguity in the story and both wisdom and very real danger in the lessons we draw from it about prayer. Sometimes the line between the two is exceedingly fine; I personally believe Honi crossed the line despite also showing us some of the things necessary in a life of prayer and despite his special relationship with God. So let me say something about that and what I believe the author of these books on "drawing a circle of prayer" as well as what his readers must be cautious about.

The positive lessons on Prayer Honi gives us:

All prayer is meant to allow God the space to work in our lives. Under the impulse of the Holy Spirit we open our hearts to God so that God may enter those spaces, know us more profoundly (in the intimate Biblical sense), and accompany us in every moment and mood of our lives. That means opening ourselves in ways that reveal our deepest needs and dreams and doing so in a way that lets those dreams and needs be shaped, qualified, transformed, and answered by the presence of God and his own will or purposes. In other words, we hold our dreams and needs open to God's transforming and fulfilling presence. We take them seriously; we claim and honor them, but we also hold them somewhat lightly because God's presence can cause us to reevaluate and even redefine these in light of his love and purposes. For instance, my own dream to become a teacher or to transform the world is rooted in gifts coming from a really profound place within me which I must hold onto and express, but I must also be open to the possibility that I am not going to be teaching in the ways I thought I might nor transforming the world in the way I dreamt I might. The Kingdom of God comes through our attentiveness to our deepest needs, gifts, and dreams; we must not ignore these, but at the same time, that Reign rarely looks like what we thought it might.

Drawing a circle around my desire to teach, etc, allows me to get and stay in touch with the profound gifts within me, while praying about this allows me to open these spaces to God and to collaborate with God in becoming the teacher (or whatever else) he may desire me to become. Standing in this circle allows me to remain trusting in God's love and determined that the best use of my gifts be made, but I am neither defining (drawing) nor standing in this circle in order that God might be "informed" about who I am, what I feel, dream, or need, nor that his will be shaped accordingly. I stand in such a circle so that I may consciously and faithfully bring these things to God and allow their potential and promise to be realized in ways I may not have even imagined myself. Drawing a circle of prayer makes sense to me because it requires 1) a conscious claiming of gifts, needs, dreams, etc, 2) a faithfulness and deep trust in their potential and in the power of God to bring all things to fullness or completion despite ostensible signs otherwise, and 3) a commitment to watch for the ways in which God brings things to fulfillment even when these are contrary to my own plans and conceptions. Drawing a circle of prayer makes sense to the degree it demands and facilitates attentiveness and perseverance in prayer.

The Negative or Dangerous Elements in Honi's Approach to Prayer:

However, as I say, it is my opinion that Honi crossed the line that the leadership of the Jewish People considered blasphemous and worthy of excommunication. He moved from persevering prayer to blackmail or extortion, and he did so by treating prayer and the drawing of a circle as a way of leveraging God. When I think of what Honi did with the circle it sounds a lot like a child saying to their Mother, "I want cake for dinner and I am going to lie here in the middle of the floor until you let me have that! Not only that (once mom pulls out the vanilla cake mix!), it had BETTER be a chocolate cake!" Despite the vast difference between this and what I described in the last section, the line between these two is often a very fine one indeed and we need to be very careful never to cross it!

Prayer is always about intimacy with God but it is not the intimacy of peers, much less of persons who can dictate to God what their needs are and the ways in which they expect these needs to be met. Honi crossed this line as well. He forgot that in prayer he was dealing with the Master of the Universe, the One whom he was called to serve in persevering prayer, not one we can call on to serve us in a demanding and willful pseudo-piety. Perseverance is necessary in prayer, but stubbornness is a different matter. In prayer, we do indeed open our hearts to God, but we do so in a way that allows our dreams and needs to accept the limitations of reality and be shaped by that. We continue to hope, but the certainty of our hope allows flexibility and demands docility as well; God's purposes and will always ultimately eventuate in a fulfillment of what we dream of and desire or need most deeply. We need to trust that that is the case even as we allow ourselves to be instructed in the fact that we cannot always see or imagine the how or the shape of this fulfillment. We do not EVER dictate terms to God. It seems to me that Honi forgot most of these things in his own prayer.

Similarly, it is important not to think that God is outside the circle. We must understand that drawing the circle of prayer circumscribes a space where God is intimately present with us in the very circumstances we ourselves are suffering. We draw the circle and say effectively that we will stand here WITH God and trust in his life-giving presence despite all the difficulties and ridicule that may entail. Honi's actions seem very different to me than this. He seemed to be drawing a line in the sand (dust!) which separated himself from God and turned the situation into a "me vs God" struggle rather than allowing it to define Honi as an I-Thou covenantal reality. It is important in prayer to recognize that our truest needs and dreams are God's as well and that we stand together as covenant partners committed to the unfolding and fulfillment of creation. Even so, this is never the same as allowing prayer to become a kind of martyrdom (witness) against a God who finally capitulates to our demands.

Further, we must take care that the drawing of prayer circles not be allowed to deteriorate into a kind of magical thinking where if we do x (e.g., draw a prayer circle around my child), then y (e.g., his safety) will be the result. One of the real dangers of the idea of drawing prayer circles is that we begin to think that we have done what we need and therefore the result is assured. While this is similar to the extorting-God mindset (in some ways it seems like a "kinder, gentler, version") it is as contrary to the true dynamics of authentic prayer as is the demanding, self-centered, blackmail version of things. Since the author of these books has a version for children it seems to me that parents need to be particularly cautious in being sure they do not contribute to notions of prayer that have more to do with magical thinking than with prayer. Children outgrow magical thinking but if it becomes codified in their approaches to prayer this becomes a huge obstacle to developing a mature spirituality later in life and it contributes to unnecessary disillusion with religion and the practice of prayer.

Risk and tension are always there in our Prayer:

Finally, it seems to me that the Legend of Honi the circle drawer reminds us that there is always risk and tension in our prayer. Prayer requires boldness and steadfastness which can easily deteriorate into presumption and stubbornness. It requires an intimacy that runs the risk of devolving or being distorted into actual blasphemy.  After all, it is one thing to say, "Here I stand, I can do no other" WITH and for God; it is quite another to do so as though God was simply another person on the parish council who needed to be convinced and prodded into action. And of course, negotiating this risky business and coming to trust that God brings good out of even the worst circumstances even when we cannot perceive this, is part of what it means to learn to pray and to live a prayer life.  

As we mature in this we become better at a kind of "holy boldness" and an intimacy that is never presumptuous but which instead reminds us of Mary's part at the Wedding Feast of Cana. There she spoke directly, even boldly, to her Son about the needs of the host and she clearly knew her Son could do something about the situation. But Jesus drew limits as well and while Mary stood back a bit in light of these, she continued to trust in her Son and counseled others to do as he said. It seems to me that Mary's interactions with Jesus in that story are a more accurate image of the dynamics of prayer --- especially the "holy boldness"  required --- than Honi's legend itself manages to give us.

I hope this is helpful to you. You might also check out, On Persistence in prayer and other posts linked to the labels found below.

Reflections from Friday's Readings

One of the fundamental keys for self-help groups and 12 step programs is the recognition that the person needing help "hits bottom" and comes to a profound sense of their own powerlessness to change things. Though we think of this as a contemporary bit of wisdom it is quite ancient and something Paul has been writing about in his Letter to the Romans for the last two weeks. From the portrait we find in Paul we are apt to recognize clearly that the dynamics of sin and of addiction are almost identical, especially as he describes things today: [["For I do not do the good I want, but I do the evil I do not want. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me. So, then, I discover the principle that when I want to do right, evil is at hand. For I take delight in the law of God, in my inner self, but I see in my members another principle at war with the law of my mind, taking me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members."!]]

The "law of (the) mind" is the law (the inner drive and foundational dynamism) of the inner self, the good will and seat of the desire to do good, to know, embrace, and be truth. It is the fundamental law of the self, the God-given source of vocation and all creativity. It is the law which is at war with the law of sin. The whole self under the power of sin (the flesh) is at war with the whole self under the power of the Spirit (the spirit). What Paul knows with absolute certainty is that the attempt to keep the Law on his own power (flesh) only leads more deeply into sin. After all, to attempt to take what can only be received as gift is to betray both the giver and ourselves who are meant to be receivers. It is to increase the distance between ourselves and God.  Our inner self desires to do good and avoid evil but has no power of itself. Paul knew human beings to be locked in a situation of sin, a bondage of the will, and heart. In such a situation of bondage God's greatest gifts, the Law and the call to pray (to worship God in truth and purity of heart) become traps to idolatry and they occasion an even more extreme situation of estrangement and alienation (sin).

It is, as I described earlier in the week, a bit like jumping off a cliff in an attempt to fly and then trying to arrest the inevitable fall (much less believing we can somehow then launch ourselves into flight!) by pulling on the tops of our shoes! Thus, Paul follows his depressing and realistic analysis with a cry of abject helplessness: [[Who will save me from this body of death?]] But Paul's "hitting bottom" was also the moment of his being "exalted" to his original dignity and freedom. Judgment came in his meeting with God in Christ, but so did redemption and so, Paul's cry of abjection is followed by one of exultation, [[Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!]] The realization that he could do nothing to save himself and was thus in bondage to sin was turned on its head as he came to realize he need do nothing but embrace his powerlessness; in that moment he became open (obedient) and Absolute Power (in the weakness of the Crucified Christ) embraced him. Love-in-Act grasped, shook him, and freed him of "the law of sin" so that he might live instead from the grace of God.

Incapacity to Keep the Law or to be People of Prayer apart from God:

One of the striking pieces of Paul's insight here, an insight rooted in his experience of powerlessness is the way two things become complicit in our sin. The first is Law and the second is prayer. I have written recently about Paul's position on the Law. With Prayer what we need to see is that to truly pray we must admit our powerlessness so that God might then work within us. Paul said it this way, "The Spirit helps us in our infirmities. We do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit, with groanings too deep for words intercedes for us." My sense is the Church works very hard to make sure we model this in all of our prayer, all of our liturgy. Just as in addiction, so too in any spiritual life: everything hinges on our deep and dual confession of powerlessness and trust in God.

We begin every prayer with the sign of the cross and the words, "In the Name (that is, in the the dynamic, powerful, and empowering presence), of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit." In other words, we open ourselves to being moved and empowered by God's own presence. We complete our prayers in the same way, but this time, like Paul's dual confession in Friday's first reading, it is an expression of gratitude and hope rooted again in the powerful presence of the Triune God within and around us. In monastic life and the Liturgy of the Hours we begin the very first prayer of the day with the hopeful plea, "Lord Open my lips, and my mouth will proclaim your praise." Again, we know we are powerless to say a single word in prayer much less praise God with our lives unless God empowers us in this way. We trust that God will do so but we are equally clear that he must. At every subsequent hour we begin by intoning, O God, come to my assistance; O Lord, make haste to help me!" This is a prayer I personally pray many times a day in all kinds of situations. At these moments I am reminded of my own powerlessness, but also the power I have in Christ, and the covenant relation with God I truly am.

Paying Attention to the Weather?

Luke's Gospel reminds us how urgent this all is, and how attentive we must be at all times to the smallest sign of God's presence and our own powerlessness apart from that presence. Jesus begins by noting how clearly the people see and understand the signs of coming rain or hot winds. There is nothing trivial in this knowledge. In the Middle East of Jesus' day drought or famine led to social unrest and dislocation, loss of unity and death. Just recently we read that the war in Syria was caused in part by a terrible drought followed by the movement of 1.5M people to urban areas. The economy was destabilized, social unrest occurred and then war. Analysts note that because no one really paid attention to the drought as a factor in the county's situation they deemed Syria to be stable even the day before war broke out; this critical inattentiveness to what should have never been overlooked contributed to or (some opine) even caused the catastrophe in which many nations are now embroiled in one way and another. In California, where we are experiencing a serious drought people have begun to pay keen attention to clouds, water tables, fire conditions, El Nino, Hurricane Patricia, and so forth. We know how fragile the situation in which we find ourselves and we watch carefully lest we face disaster down the line. And yet, how many of us look so assiduously for the signs of God's presence --- or at the signs of our own critical need for God's presence?

As in these situations, and exactly like someone in a twelve step program who begins (and continues every step of) their journey into a hope-filled future by admitting the situation from which they cannot extricate themselves as they also open themselves to a "higher power," we are called to make our own Paul's dual confession of bondage to sin and the grateful celebration of freedom (being empowered by grace) in Christ.  At every moment and mood, with every prayer or attempt to be our true selves we are called to remember and claim our powerlessness so that God may simultaneously empower, free, and exalt  us to true dignity and humility. Embracing our personal poverty is the occasion for the triumph of God's great love. As Paul also reminds us, "(God's) grace is sufficient for (us). (God's) power is made perfect in weakness" --- both that of Christ and our own! We know how to do this:  + In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit we make our prayers and live our lives. + In the Name of God our lives are made God's own prayers. Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!

A Contemplative Moment: On Perseverance in Cell

« Whoever perseveres without defiance in the cell and lets himself be taught by it tends to make his entire existence a single and continual prayer. But he may not enter into this rest without going through the test of a difficult battle. It is the austerities to which he applies himself as someone close to the Cross, or the visits of God, coming to test him like gold in the fire. Thus purified by patience, fed and strengthened by studied meditation of Scripture, introduced by the grace of the Holy Spirit in the recesses of his heart, he will thus be able to, not only serve God, but adhere to him. » Carthusian Statutes

On the Prayer Lives of Hermits

[[Dear Sister, I have a question regarding the prayer life of a hermit. Do all hermits pray the Liturgy of the Hours? And if so, do they say the Roman Office or do they pick an Office that reflects their spirituality (ie. a Benedictine arrangement)?  Since hermits make a formal commitment to the Church, I'm sure saying the public prayer of the Church is essential to their vocation.  Finally, are hermits required to say all the Offices of the day and when not saying those fill their day with other devotions?

When I look at the horarium of hermit religious communities they seem full of private devotions on top of the full breviary. For example:  Carmelite Hermits. I'm wondering how a hermit develops his or her prayer rule and how a hermit discerns a balance between laxity and following one's personal tastes in prayer on the one hand a rigorous that is so difficult as to be impossible to fulfil. ]]

Several really good questions, thank you! Regarding the Liturgy of the Hours the simple answer is no, strictly speaking these are not required by canon 603 nor any other canon unless the hermit is also a priest. I know at least one diocesan hermit who does not pray them at all. I know of another diocesan hermit, now deceased, who did not pray the LOH (Liturgy of the Hours) or even have some sort of general horarium. (I cannot tell you how much I advise against this and find it a terribly imprudent practice for an eremitical life! Besides, it is contrary to the requirements of canon 603 itself.) That said I don't know any other hermits who do not pray some portion of the LOH each day. I also suspect that most Bishops would require the hermit who did not pray them to have a pretty convincing reason for not doing so; I am pretty certain the majority of Bishops would be unlikely to profess someone for whom the LOH was not at least a significant part of their prayer. After all, they are the prayer of the Church and my vocation, as you note, is an ecclesial one.

Still, the hermit is required to live a life of assiduous prayer and penance. Nothing in that phrase specifies what that means. Thus, what that looks like in each life will likely differ. It is part of the freedom of the hermit to listen and respond to the Spirit as she will. In my own Rule and life I only include 3 or 4 of the hours of the LOH. I also use the Camaldolese Office book because it is singable with musically interesting but simple psalm tones;  I also complement it with the Roman LOH, especially at times when I cannot sing or if I am going to do the Office of Readings, etc. Any hermit is free to do something similar.

While I need the structure these provide as well as the content itself and the tone the major hours set for the time of day or week or season, I find praying the little hours fragments my day and generally speaking, doing so actually detracts from my prayer. Again, as I have said before, as I understand this vocation, hermits generally are about praying, and more, about becoming incarnations of God's own prayer in this world, not simply about saying prayers. That is the way I understand "pray always." Clearly that differs from some conceptions. That said, I do find some devotions helpful, especially when things in my life make prayer difficult. During times of illness I use rote prayers or Taize chants to assist me. I  may also use the little hours as well as shortened versions of the major ones in the LOH. When traveling I use a bead bracelet and pray the Jesus prayer for the people around me. I may also read a single psalm very slowly and meditatively at such times. During walks I may do something similar for the people in my life or pray a rosary.

Otherwise, however, my own prayer tends to quiet prayer outside of Mass and the LOH (though I allow for periods of contemplation during the LOH as well as after it and also during Communion services). Similarly the practice of vigil replaces the saying of vigils (Office of Readings) for me so that the period from 4:00-8:00 or 3:00-8:00 am is ordinarily a period of vigil. While I sing Lauds during this time I also spend at least an hour in quiet prayer and another in writing --- usually journaling but also blogging on something like the daily readings or a topic I have been thinking and praying about.

Recently, for instance (during the Easter season), that included work on the Ascension and the Bridal imagery of the Scriptures which is tied to our understanding of the dynamic of divine descent and ascent --- so this topical approach tends to reflect an ongoing focus in my meditation and theological work. About 8:10 am I leave for Mass if I am going there and that is usually the end of a period of quiet for me until I return to the hermitage for Scripture, lectio, quiet prayer and then dinner (lunch). You see, for me personally, filling the day with devotions is a real distraction. This is not so much a matter of personal "taste" in prayer as it is a matter of discerning the kind of prayer God is calling me to at this stage in my life. I work out what forms of prayer are lifegiving to me and what forms really contribute to the silence of solitude which is the environment and goal of my life.

One of the reasons a hermit petitioning for profession under canon 603 requires years of living as a lay hermit before doing so is precisely so they can have a sense of what prayer is best for them and when. My own sense is that filling the day with devotions is a beginner's strategy. It may be fine before a person really develops a contemplative life and matures into quiet prayer, etc but at some point the person really does have to stop, sit in silence, and confront the voice of God in her own heart. While I know they want a balance in each hermit's life between prayer, work and leisure, I suspect that some communities use devotions as ways of being sure a hermit in cell is never plagued by empty time. But for the contemplative "empty time" is precisely where one turns to God in silent faith. It may also be a way for communities to cut back on the diversity hermits may enjoy in their time in cell and to increase the uniformity of the life.

The Camaldolese as a group, for instance, do not structure their lives in such a way as the link you provided though of course they are free to do so individually. Though they come together regularly for liturgical prayer and for sitting in silence as well, the hermit is free in cell to pray as he is called to and this can certainly mean additional devotions as well as periods of rest and recreation not only so that God may speak differently to the hermit, but so "the bow is not always kept taut." Cf Hermits and Vacations for the Desert Father story taken from John Cassian's Conferences. I recall that one of the best pieces of advice I was ever given was after Dom Robert Hale, OSB Cam read the Rule I proposed to submit to my diocese prior to solemn eremitical profession. He was complimentary but also said he hoped I would not forget to build in sufficient time for rest and recreation. In some ways that has made a huge difference in the quality of my contemplative life, and mainly for the better.

How does one determine all this? Well, one certainly learns (becomes familiar with) all the prayer forms one can and tries them to see which are lifegiving and in what ways and at what times. One journals and talks with her director to see if she might be using one form of prayer to avoid something else --- that profound listening that requires one be in touch with her deepest heart, for instance, or monastic leisure and letting go of the need to "produce" or do rather than be. These latter difficulties are or can be reflections of the worldliness that follows us into the hermitage so we must not simply slap a pious practice over it and think we have "left the world" or begun to truly pray as a hermit in so doing. (It is the case that even certain practices in prayer, certain affectations or attachments may be more worldly than not.) In any case, one pays attention to how prayer affects one. Has it ceased nourishing one as it once did? Does it not seem to fit new circumstances? Is it irritating or disquieting and why? Does it reinforce worldly attitudes and values -- doing over being, experience and superficial emotion over self-emptying (which will involve more profound emotions) and a commitment to love God for God's own sake? (Depending on the answer to these latter questions one may discover one is called to jettison the practice or to continue and deepen it.) One goes slowly and listens carefully. One moves step by step over a period of time and with the assistance of her director and others.
 

I hope this is helpful.

On Drawing Prayer Circles

[[Dear Sister, have you heard of the books referring to drawing a circle around one's biggest dreams or needs and then standing there until the prayer is answered? They are based on the Jewish legend of Honi who drew a circle and prayed for rain. He stayed inside the circle until it rained and it did! God answered Honi's Prayer! I just wondered what you thought of this approach to prayer.]]

Hi there. I have heard of the books and seen them advertised on Amazon, but I have not read them. The legend of Honi, however is one I am somewhat familiar with. Honi, a first century BC scholar who is sometimes called the "one who draws circles", was faced with the need for rain during a drought. He eventually drew a circle and announced to God that he was not going to move until God sent rain. It was Winter, the rainy season, when he did this. When a smattering of rain came Honi announced to God that that was not enough and reiterated his intention to remain there until there was real rain. There was a downpour and at this point Honi told God he wanted (or the people of Israel needed) a quieter, less destructive rain; he said he would continue to stay in the circle until God sent that instead. At this point there came a quieter rain which the ground could drink up and which would not be destructive because of flooding, mudslides, etc.

What is important to remember however are the two responses this action drew from Jews. Some excommunicated Honi because he had indeed blasphemed God by his actions. Others (a Queen) excused him saying he had a special relationship with God. There is ambiguity in the story and both wisdom and very real danger in the lessons we draw from it about prayer. Sometimes the line between the two is exceedingly fine; I personally believe Honi crossed the line despite also showing us some of the things necessary in a life of prayer and despite his special relationship with God. So let me say something about that and what I believe the author of these books on "drawing a circle of prayer" as well as what his readers must be cautious about.

The positive lessons on Prayer Honi gives us:

All prayer is meant to allow God the space to work in our lives. Under the impulse of the Holy Spirit we open our hearts to God so that God may enter those spaces, know us more profoundly (in the intimate Biblical sense), and accompany us in every moment and mood of our lives. That means opening ourselves in ways which reveal our deepest needs and dreams and doing so in a way which lets those dreams and needs be shaped, qualified, transformed, and answered by the presence of God and his own will or purposes. In other words we hold our dreams and needs open to God's transforming and fulfilling presence. We take them seriously; we claim and honor them, but we also hold them somewhat lightly because God's presence can cause us to reevaluate and even redefine these in light of his love and purposes. For instance, my own dream to become a teacher or to transform the world is rooted in gifts coming from a really profound place within me which I must hold onto and express, but I must also be open to the possibility that I am not going to be teaching in the ways I thought I might nor transforming the world in the way I dreamt I might. The Kingdom of God comes through our attentiveness to our deepest needs, gifts, and dreams; we must not ignore these, but at the same time, that Reign rarely looks like what we thought it might.

Drawing a circle around my desire to teach, etc, allows me to get and stay in touch with the profound gifts within me, while praying about this allows me to open these spaces to God and to collaborate with God in becoming the teacher (or whatever else) he may desire me to become. Standing in this circle allows me to remain trusting in God's love and determined that the best use of my gifts be made, but I am neither defining (drawing) nor standing in this circle in order that God might be "informed" about who I am, what I feel, dream, or need, nor that his will be shaped accordingly. I stand in such a circle so that I may consciously and faithfully bring these things to God and allow their potential and promise to be realized in ways I may not have even imagined myself. Drawing a circle of prayer makes sense to me because it requires 1) a conscious claiming of gifts, needs, dreams, etc, 2) a faithfulness and deep trust in their potential and in the power of God to bring all things to fullness or completion despite ostensible signs otherwise, and 3) a commitment to watch for the ways in which God brings things to fulfillment even when these are contrary to my own plans and conceptions. Drawing a circle of prayer makes sense to the degree it demands and facilitates attentiveness and perseverance in prayer.

The Negative or Dangerous Elements in Honi's Approach to Prayer:

However, as I say, it is my opinion that Honi crossed the line which the leadership of the Jewish People considered blasphemous and worthy of excommunication. He moved from persevering prayer to blackmail or extortion, and he did so by treating prayer and the drawing of a circle as a way of leveraging God. When I think of what Honi did with the circle it sounds a lot like a child saying to their Mother, "I want cake for dinner and I am going to lie here in the middle of the floor until you let me have that! Not only that (once mom pulls out the vanilla cake mix!), it had BETTER be a chocolate cake!" Despite the vast difference between this and what I described in the last section, the line between these two is often a very fine one indeed and we need to be very careful never to cross it!

Prayer is always about intimacy with God but it is not the intimacy of peers, much less of persons who can dictate to God what their needs are and the ways in which they expect these needs to be met. Honi crossed this line as well. He forgot that in prayer he was dealing with the Master of the Universe, the One whom he was called to serve  in persevering prayer, not one we can call on to serve us in a demanding and willful pseudo-piety. Perseverance is necessary in prayer, but stubbornness is a different matter. In prayer we do indeed open our hearts to God, but we do so in a way which allows our dreams and needs to accept the limitations of reality and shaped by that. We continue to hope, but the certainty of our hope allows a flexibility and demands docility as well; God's purposes and will always ultimately eventuate in a fulfillment of what we dream of and desire or need most deeply. We need to trust that that is the case even as we allow ourselves to be instructed in the fact that we cannot always see or imagine the how or the shape of this fulfillment. We do not EVER dictate terms to God. It seems to me that Honi forgot most of these things in his own prayer.

Similarly, it is important not to think that God is outside the circle. We must understand that drawing the circle of prayer circumscribes a space where God is intimately present with us in the very circumstances we ourselves are suffering. We draw the circle and say effectively that we will stand here WITH God and trust in his lifegiving presence despite all the difficulties and ridicule that may entail. Honi's actions seem very different to me than this. He seemed to be drawing a line in the sand (dust!) which separated himself from God and turned the situation into a "me vs God" struggle rather than allowing it to define Honi as an I-Thou covenantal reality. It is important in prayer to recognize that our truest needs and dreams are God's as well, and that we stand together as covenant partners committed to the unfolding and fulfillment of creation. Even so, this is never the same as allowing prayer to become a kind of martyrdom (witness) against a God who finally capitulates to our demands.

Further, we must take care that the drawing of prayer circles not be allowed to deteriorate into a kind of magical thinking where if we do x (e.g., draw a prayer circle around my child), then y (e.g., his safety) will be the result. One of the real dangers of the idea of drawing prayer circles is that we begin to think that we have done what we need and therefore the result is assured. While this is similar to the extorting-God mindset (in some ways it seems like a "kinder, gentler, version") it is as contrary to the true dynamics of authentic prayer as is the demanding, self-centered, blackmail version of things. Since the author of these books has a version for children it seems to me that parents need to be particularly cautious in being sure they do not contribute to notions of prayer that have more to do with magical thinking than with prayer. Children outgrow magical thinking but if it becomes codified in their approaches to prayer this becomes a huge obstacle to developing a mature spirituality later in life and it contributes to unnecessary disillusion with religion and the practice of prayer.

Risk and tension are always there in our Prayer:

Finally, it seems to me that the Legend of Honi the circle drawer reminds us that there is always risk and tension in our prayer. Prayer requires boldness and steadfastness which can easily deteriorate into presumption and stubbornness. It requires an intimacy that runs the risk of devolving or being distorted into actual blasphemy.  After all, it is one thing to say, "Here I stand, I can do no other" WITH and for God; it is quite another to do so as though God was simply another person on the parish council who needed to be convinced and prodded into action. And of course, negotiating this risky business and coming to trust that God brings good out of even the worst circumstances even when we cannot perceive this, is part of what it means to learn to pray and to live a prayer life.  As we mature in this we become better at a kind of "holy boldness" and an intimacy that is never presumptuous but which instead reminds us of Mary's part at the Wedding Feast of Cana. There she spoke directly, even boldly, to her Son about the needs of the host and she clearly knew her Son could do something about the situation. But Jesus drew limits as well and while Mary stood back a bit in light of these, she continued to trust in her Son and counseled others to do as he said. It seems to me that Mary's interactions with Jesus in that story are a more accurate image of the dynamics of prayer --- especially the "holy boldness"  required --- than Honi's legend itself manages to give us.

I hope this is helpful to you. You might also check out, On persistence in prayer and other posts linked to the labels found below.

On Persistence in Prayer

[[Hi Sister Laurel, I was reading the story of the "importunate widow" in Luke and I have to ask why we are told to persist in prayer? We can't change God's mind and I was taught we shouldn't bargain with him or try to change it. You recently wrote an article about that very thing and you said that the story of Abraham bargaining with God over finding righteous people present in the city was not really a matter of bargaining even though that's the way it's mostly interpreted. (cf. Moving From Fear to Love) The way you heard the story wasn't the way I was taught it either, but it agrees with what I was taught about bargaining with God. So, I guess my question  is why not just accept his will in the matter and move on? You know, it's the, "God always answers prayer, sometimes he says no!" kind of approach. God said no, accept it and move on. Don't stubbornly insist on your own way!!]]

Excellent and important questions. I have written about this before as well. Please see Hope, Shamelessly Persistent Trust. More recently, I am reminded of something Pope Francis said in his conversations with Rabbi Skorka in a section on prayer. Thus, in answering your questions I would like to take what Francis said a bit farther and perhaps also correct him a bit (I am not sure that I am actually doing the latter but I am sure I am doing the former.) What Francis said is this, [[  [In prayer] there are moments of profound silence, adoration, waiting to see what will happen. In prayer there coexists this reverent silence together with a sort of haggling, like when Abraham negotiated with God for the punished citizens of Sodom and Gomorra. Moses also bargains when he pleads for his people. He hopes to convince the Lord not to punish his people. This attitude of courage goes along with humility and adoration, which are essential for prayer.]] Rabbi Skorka responds by saying in part, [[The worst thing that can happen in our relationship with G_d is not that we fight with him, but that we become indifferent.]] I think this observation too figures into my response to your question.


In the article I wrote about the dialogue Abraham has with God over the fate of Sodom and Gomorra I indicated that Abraham was the "Father of Faith" and that he personified the trust people of faith are supposed to have. I also noted that he personifies a journey the people of Israel themselves are called to make. It is a journey in which he and they come to know and trust the unfathomable depth of God's mercy. What I suggested was that it takes time to come to know God as one who acts according to a very different standard or notion of justice than the ones we ordinarily reason to ourselves. Over time Abraham and the People of Israel come more and more to know the God whose justice is his mercy, who sets things right in the world through his creative mercy and love, who is sovereign insofar as his mercy reigns, etc. Thus, story after story in the Old Testament recounts the faithlessness and sin of the People and the constant faithfulness, forgiveness, and mercy of God. What I want to call your attention to here is how, over time in continued encounters with God it is the people who change; they are brought to greater and greater faith but they are also brought to a sense of their own poverty, concupiscence, and recalcitrance when on their own.

I believe that we are charged with persistence in prayer not so we can change God's mind, but so that in that prayer and in our own encounters with God --- including his silence and refusal to give us what we think we want or believe is best for us --- we ourselves may be changed and our relationship with God grow and mature. Persistence in prayer allows us to meet the God of Jesus Christ with our needs and desires as well as with out attitudes of proprietariness, worthiness, competence, righteousness, selfishness, omniscience, etc, etc, and over time examine all of these in the face of a God who ONLY loves us and desires the very best for and from us. Most of our attitudes will change in such continued prayer; our perspective on any number of things will change: death, suffering, time, and so forth as God invites us to look beyond the immediate situation and find a greater hope and promise than we ourselves can even imagine. It is a bit like a person coming up  again and again against that which is unchanging and, over time, changing themselves.  In this case, however, they become more and more open to the actual answer for any prayer --- God's own presence and self --- and they come to know his faithfulness and presence no matter what else happens; their defining world becomes less merely that of time and space (though they will be made more capable of ministering within it) and more and more that of the Kingdom of God.

You see, in a real problem we especially don't want God as an added adversary or person we need to convince. We want him to journey with us and love and support us as only God can do, not be someone we are trying to convince and bargain with. Even so, in bargaining we will come, usually, to acceptance in ways we might not have otherwise. Bargaining is a part of grief, a piece of coming to terms with a reality which has us helpless and powerless and bargaining with God is an entirely legitimate way to come to terms with reality. But only if we are persistent in it AND, as you say in your question, not merely stubborn.

The difference here is at least twofold: first any haggling is really one-sided; it is not meant to change God but to come to know his will over time. Secondly, it is marked by a correlative openness to really hearing and accepting the will of God in whatever the situation is. In persistence we pour out our hearts to God and we do so again and again. In persistence we know that God is part of the answer but we do not know precisely what shape that will take; as we continue to pray we allow ourselves to become more and more determined to accept and even to aid God in that. Persistence is open to learning --- and to letting ourselves be shaped by the answer we will always receive. It is humble in its honesty, its openness, and in its naivete. Stubbornness, on the other hand, pretends to know what is best and how God should respond; it is closed to a deeper and higher wisdom, a more expansive vision of reality, or to the need to trust a God who is really mysterious in the best theological sense of that term.


While it is true God often does not answer our prayers with a "yes" in our precise terms, the problem with the "Sometimes God says no" answer is that it also presumes to know what God's answer is even as it does not allow us to continue importuning him. It short circuits the growth and maturation of the relationship that allows God to truly be God-with-us. It is an invitation to indifference and dismissal. The God who says no is not one we are usually open to walking with intimately on a daily basis or in difficult times. He is not one we can pour our hearts out to in all of our needs, weaknesses, distortions and darkness nor continue doing so until we ourselves eventually see the light or come to acceptance. Further, it continues to make of God someone who answers our prayers on our own level of understanding and expectation. It diminishes God and ourselves as well. My own experience is that God never says no. Whether we are at the beginning of a long bargaining process or months or years into it, God always "says," "Here I am. Let me give you myself in this situation; let me live it with you. Let me transform it with my compassionate presence. Let me deal with it and your own needs in ways you will one day realize are truly awesome. I promise, nothing whatsoever that you entrust to me will EVER be lost; all will be brought to life and completion in and with me!"

Parable of the Ten Virgins: Paradigm of Prayer

Last Friday's Gospel was the parable of the ten virgins waiting for the Bridegroom. Five are wise and five are foolish. While all of them fall asleep at some point after the bridegroom is delayed, half of them are still ready to greet him when he comes and also to serve him as they are meant to. Their lamps are full. The other half have not prepared so their lamps are either out or running out of oil. They ask the "wise" virgins to share oil with them, but are told  that if they were to do that they too might run out. The "foolish virgins" are sent out to buy some oil (it is after midnight, remember). In the meantime, the Bridegroom comes, the doors are locked, the party begins, and the foolish virgins are left out in the cold with the Bridegroom declaring, "I never knew you!"

Parables have a unique capacity to take us where we are and lead us to Christ. It doesn't matter that we are all in different places. We enter the story and thus enter a sacred space where we can meet God in Christ ourselves. For this reason, although I have written about this parable before, it had a freshness for me on Friday. Themes may remain similar (waiting, covenant, consummation of a wedding, faithfulness, preparation, celebration, future fulfillment, etc) but what the parable calls for today differs from what it personally entailed for the hearer yesterday. What I was hearing Friday was a description of the nature of a life of prayer, a life given over to another so that his own purposes may be fulfilled through our relationship. It is the story of a life given over to waiting; it is a waiting of disciplined preparation and attention, but it is also, for that very reason, waiting which is joyful and full of promise and hope. It is the kind of waiting which signals a life where, in terms of today's story, one especially prepares oneself to be surprised by the Bridegroom's promised and inevitable coming and by all he has done to prepare for us as his bride.

The Nature of Jewish Marriages in Jesus' Day

Jewish weddings took place in two stages. First came the betrothal in which the two were joined in a covenant of marriage. This was more than an engagement and if it was to be sundered it could only occur through processes called "divorce". After the betrothal the bridegroom went to his family home and began to prepare for his bride. He ordinarily began building an addition to the family home. It was understood that he would provide better accommodations than his bride had had until this point. (We should all be thinking of this situation when we hear Jesus say, "I go to my Father's house to prepare a place for you.) Meanwhile the bride also begins a period of preparation. There is sewing to do and lessons in being a wife. There is preparation for the day her bridegroom will come again to take her to his home where the two shall become one (in ritual marriage) and where the marriage will be consummated.


At the end of about a year (the groom's  Father makes sure his Son does not do a haphazard job on the new addition just so he can get to his bride sooner!), on a day and at an hour the bride does not know, the groom comes with his friends. They bear torches, blow the shofar, and announce, "The Bridegroom comes" --- just as we hear in Friday's Gospel. The bride's attendants come forth with their own lamps and, with the entire town, accompany her to her new home. The marriage of this bride and groom symbolizes (in the strongest sense of that term) the marriage of God to his people achieved on Sinai. Thus, the service the bridesmaids and groomsmen do for these friends is also a service they do for Israel and a witness to God's ineffable mercy and covenant faithfulness.

On Waiting and preparing to be Surprised: The Life of Prayer

We are each called to be spouses of Christ. Christ has gone to his Father's house to prepare a place for us and we are called to spend the time between our betrothal and the consummation of this marriage in joyful preparation and waiting for that day. In other words, everything we do and are is to be geared to that day. One response to this reality is to develop a prayer life and commit to a life of prayer. (I would argue we are all called to this but that a solid prayer life and even a life of prayer looks different depending on the context and our state of life. For instance, a life of prayer in a family looks differently than a life of prayer in a hermitage.) This parable describes very well for me the dynamics of a life of prayer. Simultaneously it describes the nature of genuine waiting because prayer implies both waiting for and waiting on.

We all know both kinds of waiting. Neither is always easy for us. We wait for our moment before the cashier in grocery stores lines and are unhappy we have to be there. We look at magazines in the nearby racks, shift restlessly from foot to foot,  fall prey to impulse buys of small items located in front of us for precisely this reason, and get more irritable by the moment. We tell ourselves we have better things to do, that our time is important -- often more important, we judge, than that of the person standing in front of (or behind!) us. We fill our time, our minds and our hearts with all kinds of things to distract us from waiting; at the same time we thus prevent ourselves from being open to the new and unexpected.

Similarly waiting on others is not always easy. Wait staff in restaurants sometimes resent the very guests they are meant to serve; work keeps them from their "real  lives". And some of these wait staff take it out on those they are meant to serve. Whether this means allowing some to go unserved while waiters talk on cell phones, arguing with and blaming customers, or actually doctoring the dishes served at the table, putting nasty comments on the bill, etc.waiting on others can be challenging and demanding; our own inability to wait on God is an important reason we fail to pray as we are called to.

Again, in prayer we both wait for and wait on God. We wait for God and allow him the space to love and touch us as he will. We wait in the sense of the bride, knowing both that she is betrothed and thus wed to her groom while recognizing and honoring as well that the consummation of this relationship (and the proleptic experiences we occasionally have while waiting) come to us inevitably but at moments when we do not expect them. The temptation of course is to do as we do in the Safeway checkout line: fill our time with unworthy activities, seek distractions which relieve the tension of waiting, allow impulsivity to replace patience and perseverance. But when we do not succumb to temptation, in prayer we wait for God. We wait in the sense of those preparing for something greater which we cannot even imagine. In other words, we wait as persons of hope whose ultimate union with our beloved is already begun and remains promised and anticipated in everything we say and do. We wait to be surprised by the one we know will come.

At the same time we wait for God in Christ, we wait on God. Our prayer is not merely a matter of seeking God, much less of asking God for favors --- though it will assuredly and rightly include pouring out our hearts to him. Still, we are called to leave behind the prayer that is self-centered and adopt that which is centered instead on God's own life and will. Mature prayer is first of all a matter of making ourselves available to serve God so that his own love may be fulfilled, his own plans realized, the absolute future he summons all of creation to may culminate in him and the Reign of sovereignty he wills to share with us is perfected. Again, in prayer we prepare to be surprised by that which we already know most truly and desire most profoundly.

In the life of prayer and discipleship both waiting for and waiting on God take commitment, diligence, and attentiveness. Both require patience and persistence.  It is to this we are each and every one called. No one can do this for us. The fuel and flame of our hearts and prayer lives is something only we can tend, only we can steward in patient and joyful preparation for our Bridegroom's coming. It is in this that the foolish virgins failed and the wise virgins succeeded. The question Jesus' parable poses to us is which will we ourselves be?

Changing the world in continued faithfulness and perseverance

Deacon Greg of Deacon's Bench blog posted an astonishingly beautiful couple of picture symbolizing the impact of one person's prayer over time. Quoting the story he read, he writes: [[According to the report: "70 year-old Buddhist monk Hua Chi has been praying in the same spot at his temple in Tongren, China for over 20 years. His footprints, which are up to 1.2 inches deep in some areas, are the result of performing his prayers up to 3000 times a day. Now that he is 70, he says that he has greatly reduced his quantity of prayers to 1,000 times each day."]]



We often are tempted to think our prayers produce no fruit, no perceptible change, or that faithfulness especially to the tedium of monastic, eremitic, or lay lives is worthless. In fact we simply cannot see the effects of our faithfulness, our perseverence in all the small acts of faith and commitment to living our lives in Christ we undertake day in and day out. Remember these pictures. Beautiful as they are, they are but a shadow of the changes such faithfulness and perseverence bring in and to our world.

Hope: Shamelessly Persistent Trust

The readings yesterday were all about hope. In the first reading, there is a shift from the focus on our obedience to God such as we saw the day before when Mary sits at Jesus' feet to listen attentively to him and learn from him, to God's own attentive listening to his people. If we are going to be people of hope, we need to keep this image in mind. Ours is a God who attends carefully to everything we say, do, think, feel, need, want, and dream of. While he is completely different, or "wholly other" than we are, he is also intimately involved and concerned with all we are and do, and invested in more ways than we can describe in what we both are and are to become.

The psalm announces the theme of the lections explicitly: Blessed are they who hope in the Lord!! Happy indeed those who trust in God's loving attentiveness. Those who believe in God are people of hope. Hope is the hallmark of a faithful and faith-filled person.

In the Gospel we really do hear what it means to hope, and in particular, what makes living hope differ from a simple act of trust, and even more from an act of wishfulness. Two elements together in particular constitute hope. The first is indeed trust, not simply trust in God's attentive listening to our needs, but trust as well that he knows our needs better than we do ourselves. "Which of you would give a child of yours a snake when they ask for a loaf of bread?" and, "If you who are wicked know how to give good things to your children, then how much more does God know to give to those who ask him?" The second element, however is perseverence or persistence in turning to God with our needs (even if our own perceptions of them ARE limited!). Luke describes a shameless persisting in asking for what is needed, a persistence that goes beyond the bounds of good taste or politeness.

As I reflect on these two elements, it seems to me that they temper and condition each other. For instance, sometimes we are timid or reticent in what we ask God for; sometimes we are really disbelieving that our prayer can or will be answered or that God cares, or that we are worthy of his attention, and we fail to pour ourselves into our petition as deeply as we can or should. Perhaps we are afraid of disappointment, or perhaps we are simply embarrassed at our own neediness; there are many reasons that may constrain us, but in any case, often our prayer is more superficial than it should be, more "polite," more "civil," more restrained or tentative. Sometimes too we pray for a short period, but give up when we don't get what we have asked for. We pour ourselves out to God once or twice, or for a period of a few days, weeks, or months, but then we simply stop.

Other times we assail heaven with our petitions taking seriously the Gospel image that recommends we be truly shameless in our asking, that we do indeed importune God with our petitions and needs, but our prayer is not really hopeful, not really trusting in the way the Gospel recommends because we have forgotten that God knows what we need better than we do ourselves. It is this particular form of trust with its openness to God's faithfulness and wisdom that transforms our persistence from mere stubbornness --- or even obsession --- into hope, and from mere self-centeredness into prayerful (God-centered) openness to the future.

Today's readings invite us to a passionate and persistent prayer life, the prayer life of a genuinely hopeful person. When we truly ask for what we need, we place ourselves in God's hands, we lay ourselves "out there" to some extent. If we persist in this, over time we pour ourselves more and more into God's hands. And if we also persist in this while trusting both that God attends carefully and lovingly to us, and too, that he knows our needs better than we do ourselves, we allow him to give us what we need most of all, and what contains all other things within itself: God himself. Afterall, Luke's gospel is also very clear that what we will be given is God himself, that this is the true answer to ALL of our prayers, all of our desperate and persistent searching. In this kind of prayer, we are shaped, and so are our needs and desires, but in this kind of prayer we are also completed and all of our concrete needs and desires met --- for everything and everyone are also grounded in this God; they exist in him, and in him they will either be given or returned to us in due time.