Sunday night I sat down with some people from my church, had
dinner, watched a 30-minute video, and discussed the question posed by the
video: “Is there more to live than this?”
Our time together was the start of the 10-week Alpha Program, which has
run in Christian churches throughout the world.
Alpha is intended to get people thinking, thinking about perhaps making
changes in their lives, to create a more meaningful life. If there “is more to life,” Alpha is designed
to encourage people to go for it.
The people at my Alpha table were all Catholics, most were
converts. Some studied their way into
the Church, while others were led by friends or family. They thought, then, that they HAD changed
their lives, so why were they here? They
wanted more. The video asked: “Where do
you go for answers to life’s big questions?”
This group of very intelligent people took that question to heart, for
it was at the heart of their coming to spend this time with strangers --- you
can talk of your fears honestly among strangers. You can raise your unanswered questions, your
yearnings for more.
I had a discussion yesterday with a friend, basically asking
the same questions. They’re questions we
have all asked at some point. We talked
about our life journeys and wondered: “Where to now?”
Later that night I read a Gospel meditation (From The Better
Part, re Mk 6:45-56); it discussed Jesus’ walking on water through the stormy
sea. “One of Jesus’ favorite ways to
show Himself in our lives is through storms.
Every fear and crisis that brings us to our knees is a precious gift
from God, because it sobers up the false intoxication of self-sufficiency, one
of the greatest and subtlest obstacles to spiritual growth.”
That summarized, I believe, what all these people I wrote of
earlier --- myself included --- are seeking: “spiritual growth”. Something more. And that sentence also states the starting
point of that growth: the “crisis that brings us to our knees (prayer) is a
precious gift from God.” Prayer.
The meditation concluded with a prayer: “Jesus, help me to recognize
You in the storm, in the midst of my fears and confusion. I know You never abandon me. You walk by my side, knowing all my troubles,
just as You did with Your apostles.
Increase my faith, Lord! I don’t
want to walk through life alone!”
Ah, another great insight, this “false intoxication of
self-sufficiency” says I can walk through life alone, and we can fool ourselves
for a long time, but storms erase that false self-confidence. We don’t want to be alone, especially in the
storms of life. As in the Gospel, we
need to invite Jesus in. And often that
invite starts, as it did for me, on our knees, as the Better Part reflection
noted.
I recall my own deliberate start in prayer. I set a cross on my bedroom dresser, lit a
candle, and each night knelt down to pray a rosary before I went to bed. I wanted to change my life, and that was my
first commitment to it: I’d talk to Him
about it. In praying that rosary, I’d
reflect on His life, His spiritual growth, and consider it in relationship to
mine. (You might use the reflections I
have on my blog about the Joyful Mysteries as a good starting prayer meditation
aid; I still use it myself every week.)
Reflecting on His and Mary’s walk helped me to change the paths I chose,
and I was surprised to see new ones open I had never considered before. I found that as I spoke to Him more
consistently, more honestly, He spoke back in my heart. And slowly, I could perceive spiritual
growth, and with it “more” to life.
And it started when I began to pray, as part of my life.
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I wrote the above words last night, in the chapel. I thought that was it. But this morning, at mass, the priest began his
homily: “Did you notice a key point about that first reading (1Sam
1:1-20)? It uses Hannah to teach us how
to pray.” (Uh-oh, what did I miss last
night?)
“First, Hannah prays about her misery: ‘I am an unhappy
woman.’ We are used to praying like
that, complaining to God, but she goes further.
She relates her misery to God, weeping, putting her misery in His
hands. She persisted in speaking so
openly and sincerely to God that her husband thought she was drunk, mumbling to
herself. This is relational prayer,
talking to God as if no one else were there, as you would to an understanding
friend, who you could tell all your secrets to.
And then Hannah receives the consolation that her prayer was heard; she
knows it, and she trusts in God so much that her misery left her. Her problem didn’t go away --- yet --- but
she trusted it would. Grace came to
Hannah, and her burden was lifted. That
is how we must pray, in relation with God, and trust God hears!”
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Two separate reflections about how to pray. Both had good points. Both had a similar conclusion: prayer can change our lives, for the
better. Why wouldn’t we want to start
--- and persist?
At it’s heart, the Alpha program is about getting into a better
relationship with God. You could start
that program as an atheist, a lukewarm Christian, or a confident Catholic. It doesn’t matter. Wherever we are at, we can always go up. And strangely, that starts to happen by going
down, on our knees. The beginning of the
end of our false self-confidence starts with humility.
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