A Matter of Devotion

Saint Paul calls us to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17, cf. Ephesians 6:18). How are we to understand this? I think there are two ways.

One is the way explored by an unnamed Russian pilgrim in the spiritual classic The Way of a Pilgrim. The book dates from the mid-19th century, and in it the author visits various monasteries to try to understand what the passage from Saint Paul actually means. How are we to pray without ceasing? How is it possible? Finally, a wise man teaches him the Jesus Prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me”. The pilgrim then recites this prayer, mantra-like, through the rest of his pilgrimage.

This is one way.

Another way is found in the Benedictine motto, Ora et Labora: pray and work. These are the two things to which monks are called. Of course, the idea is that eventually you learn to turn your work into a prayer as well, thus leading us to the second-most popular Benedictine motto, ut in omnibus glorificetur Deus: that in all things God may be glorified” (1 Peter 4:11, cf. Rule ch. 57).

Despite this noble idea of sanctifying your everyday actions, the Benedictines practice several devotions on a daily basis that I, too, have taken on in one form or another. Why? The same reason we petition God with our prayers, even though He knows our needs better than we do—because we humans are drawn to converse with our Creator, and our Creator so loves us that He deigns to converse with us.

Friends in this world have their hours to converse together, and their hours when they are separated; but between God and you, if you wish it, there need never be any separation: Thou shall rest, and thy sleep shall be sweet… for the Lord is at thy side (Proverbs 3:24-26).

[St. Alphonsus De Liguori: The Way to Converse Continually and Familiarly With God]

We practice devotions because we are devoted, or we wish to become more devoted, to the one worthy of all devotion. I never understand folks who practice minimalist Christianity—you know the ones—the folks who only show up to Church when they are obligated to. What spouse or lover would accept the bare minimum from us? If God is our lover, as all the saints attest, then how can we only give to Him the minimum, and that only grudgingly?

There are, I suppose, as many devotional practices as there are people. I’d like to mention three that I practice to one degree or another.

I imperfectly pray the Liturgy of the Hours. Some days I will pray the Office of Readings and Lauds on the train going into work, and Vespers on the train going home. And then, some days I don’t. I use iBreviary (there’s an app for that!), but I find I’m actually less faithful in praying the hours than I was when I lugged around my breviary. I think I’m going to have to go back to that, because I really do miss it on days when, er, I miss it.

The Liturgy of the Hours is another solution to Saint Paul’s exhortation, another way to sanctify time itself. The Apostolic Constitution Laudis Canticum tells us “The purpose of the Divine Office is to sanctify the day and all human activity. The Office is… the prayer not only of the clergy but of the whole People of God”.

I particularly enjoy the Office of Readings (Matins), because they contain a longer Biblical reading, and a reading from one of the Church Fathers. They are often very good for another devotion: lectio divina, sacred reading. When I first heard about lectio I was thrilled. I was a new Catholic and looking for devotions. Francine had a particular devotion to the rosary, which—alas!—I did not share. But this! Praying by reading? That I could do. And after all these years, it is still the most rewarding devotion I practice.

Interestingly, my third devotion leads us right back to the Russian pilgrim: I pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet almost every day. And what is the chaplet, but another way of praying the Jesus prayer?

When I walk up the Hill after work, there is exactly enough time to pray it before I get home. I sort of chant it under my breath to help regulate the time, and I often meditate on one of the mysteries of the Rosary (typically the sorrowful).

I must confess, however, that I don’t do it exactly “by the book”. I have a terrible time remembering the Creed – even at Mass, I have to read the Nicene Creed from my missal. So instead of the normal opening prayers, I pray the verse that begins the Hours: “O God, come to my assistance; O Lord, make haste to help me…” followed by the Kyrie on the next three beads.

We all pray differently; every lover is unique in their love. Perhaps I shall leave you with a little lectio:

WHEN God created the world He commanded each tree to bear fruit after its kind; (Genesis 1:12) and even so He bids Christians—the living trees of His Church—to bring forth fruits of devotion, each one according to his kind and vocation. A different exercise of devotion is required of each—the noble, the artisan, the servant, the prince, the maiden and the wife; and furthermore such practice must be modified according to the strength, the calling, and the duties of each individual.

I ask you, my child, would it be fitting that a Bishop should seek to lead the solitary life of a Carthusian? And if the father of a family were as regardless in making provision for the future as a Capucin, if the artisan spent the day in church like a Religious, if the Religious involved himself in all manner of business on his neighbour’s behalf as a Bishop is called upon to do, would not such a devotion be ridiculous, ill-regulated, and intolerable? Nevertheless such a mistake is often made, and the world, which cannot or will not discriminate between real devotion and the indiscretion of those who fancy themselves devout, grumbles and finds fault with devotion, which is really nowise concerned in these errors.

No indeed, my child, the devotion which is true hinders nothing, but on the contrary it perfects everything; and that which runs counter to the rightful vocation of any one is, you may be sure, a spurious devotion. Aristotle says that the bee sucks honey from flowers without damaging them, leaving them as whole and fresh as it found them;—but true devotion does better still, for it not only hinders no manner of vocation or duty, but, contrariwise, it adorns and beautifies all.

Throw precious stones into honey, and each will grow more brilliant according to its several colour:—and in like manner everybody fulfils his special calling better when subject to the influence of devotion:—family duties are lighter, married love truer, service to our King more faithful, every kind of occupation more acceptable and better performed where that is the guide.

[St. Francis De Sales: Introduction to the Devout Life, Part 1 ch. 3]