I am immensely blessed to have the opportunity to live in community with two other priests, my classmates, Fr. Matt Feist and Fr. Eric Roush. In addition to the fact that it is generally unhealthy for people to live in isolation, there are many benefits to having people around. We provide opportunities to serve one another, to deny ourselves for the sake of growing in holiness, and having someone at home to tell you whether or not you’re being crazy when you come home and talk about
the day. Perhaps a prime example of this is the exponential decrease that I have seen in the instances where I talk to myself. Because I don’t want to disturb my housemates, nor do I want them to think that I am insane, I no longer hold full blown conversations with myself in the halls of my home. It probably isn’t cause for my canonization, but it certainly does take some self-control, as I love both talking and singing to myself.
The difference between talking to oneself and actual prayer is highlighted in this week’s Gospel. St. Luke makes sure to point out that the Pharisee who goes into the temple to pray “addressed this prayer to himself,” while the tax collector stood a ways off, afraid to even lift his eyes to the Lord for fear of his own unworthiness. The stark difference between these two men’s postures of prayer is intended to demonstrate the right way and the wrong way to approach the Lord. If our prayer ever becomes focused entirely on ourselves, our achievements, how good we are, or even rationalizing away our faults, then we have lost sight of a real conversation with God. While we can certainly recognize our strengths and thank God for them, prayer is never meant to be a self-congratulatory pat on the back. We receive consolation from God, never ourselves. God, as we are reminded, lifts up the lowly and humbles the mighty. If we humble ourselves, God may not have to gently knock us down a notch or two so often.
In the first interior life series talk last week, John Leyendecker quoted Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange on the beginning of a true prayer life. He once said that true prayer begins when we invite God into every aspect of our inner dialogue. Once we take that important step, every conversation, every thought, and every interaction with others becomes another opportunity to grow closer to God. There are thousands of moments every day when we can turn the mundane into a short, fervent prayer. If we start to look for them, I really believe we would be surprised at how many chances we give up to say “hello,” “thank you,” or “I love you,” to our God.
Those moments of communication with God, not just ourselves, can be the foundation of a truly deep and loving relationship with our Father, and that’s all He ever wanted with us in the first place. In the weeks to come, may we diligently seek out those chances to be with Our Lord throughout the day and grow ever closer to Him in His love.