Fr. JC Maximilian

[Picture of the Frankfurt Cathedral, built in the 15th Century, properly known as Dom St. Bartholomaus in whose chapels the emperors of the Holy Roman Empire were elected and crowned for nearly 300 years. The church is also known as the Kaiserdom (Imperial Cathedral). ]

On August 9th, the Church celebrates the memorial of St. Teresa Benedicta a Croce, better known as Edith Stein, the well-known Jewish philosopher who converted to Catholicism, became a Carmelite nun, and then was killed in a concentration camp during the 2nd World War. Edith Stein often spoke about an incident that occurred in her life, years before she became a Catholic. For some reason, unknown to her, she had gone into the cathedral in Frankfurt, and as she was admiring the artwork and architecture, she noticed a simple woman come in from the marketplace, kneel down, and pray.

It does not seem to be a particularly unusual incident, but “according to Edith Stein’s own testimony, the impression that this scene made upon her was a decisive moment along her path to faith: a simple person kneeling and praying in the cathedral” (Christoph Schönborn, Living the Catechism of the Catholic Church, Volume 4: Paths of Prayer, San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2003, p. 13). In this very simple, common action Edith Stein recognized an inexpressible mystery – an intimacy with the invisible God. This was not some profound introverted form of contemplation or meditation. Rather it was a quiet resting that draws you to the mysterious Other. The sight of this simple woman at prayer became for Edith Stein a certainty: that God exists, and in prayer we turn to Him. Edith Stein did draw closer to God, eventually entering a life of contemplative prayer as Sr. Teresa Benedicta a Croce, and because she lived out her religious name, “Teresa Blessed by the Cross,” fully in her martyrdom we now celebrate her as a saint.

What an impression it must have made on the Apostles to see Jesus praying quietly for hours, sometimes throughout the night, in such intimacy with His Heavenly Father. “Jesus was praying in a certain place, and when he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Lord, teach us to pray….’” (Luke 11:1). Do we really think that the Apostles did not know how to pray? Of course not; the Apostles surely knew how to pray; in fact they probably had many of the Psalms memorized. What they wanted was to pray the way that Jesus did; to experience the intimacy, union and confidence that Jesus experiences when He prays. “’Teach us to pray.’ This expresses the yearning to enter into the realm of this quiet intimacy, this watchful reaching out toward the invisible Presence” (Christoph Schönborn, Living the Catechism of the Catholic Church, Volume 4: Paths of Prayer, San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 2003, pp. 13-14).

In responding to His disciple’s request, Jesus takes him, and us, to prayer school. First, Jesus knows that because we are human beings, we tend to fall into routine. Jesus gives us the perfect words to use in prayer. How many of us do not know, by heart, the Our Father? How often do we just mindlessly rattle off the 55 words of the Our Father? Jesus teaches us two important attitudes that should form the background of our life of prayer, that if we keep them fresh will make sure that our prayer is always alive and powerful, and not empty and boring.

First, we must be persistent. We cannot allow prayer to become something we do just every now and then. “If we are persistent in prayer, as the friend was persistent in the parable, we give God more freedom to act in our lives, because our desires get more in synch with God’s” (“Your Homily for the Seventeenth Sunday of Ordinary Time (C),” www.ePriest.com, 2007).

The second attitude we must have in prayer is confidence. We live in a fallen world, and often we project our own imperfections onto God. Sometimes we hesitate to open our hearts to God in prayer because we think that He is selfish, resentful, and easily angered like we too often are. Jesus tears down these misconceptions. He tells us that God is our Father, and He is a better father than even the very best earthly fathers. Therefore, if earthly fathers know how to be kind, generous and wise with their children, we can be certain that our Heavenly Father is much more like that with us.

Something else struck me about the incident that was so vivid for Edith Stein; it occurred in a cathedral. Contrary to what some people might say, environment has a lot to do with prayer. A few years ago the U.S. Bishops published a document which says, “Church buildings and the religious artworks that beautify them are forms of worship themselves and both inspire and reflect the prayer of the community as well as the inner life of grace” (Built of Living Stones: Art, Architecture, and Worship, United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, Inc., 2000, § 18). In fact, the medieval cathedrals, like the one in Frankfurt, embody all the characteristics of Christian prayer that we have been talking about in their very stones.

First we spoke about persistence. Some of the medieval cathedrals took almost 200 years to complete. Three generations of the same family often worked on them for their entire lives. The local people, despite their poverty, would make sacrifices just so they could contribute their few coins, year after year, to build their local House of God. That’s persistence!

These magnificent buildings also symbolize the confidence that Christ asks us to have in prayer. These cathedrals surround us with images of the saints, with scenes from the Bible depicted in stained glass and sculpture, and with relics in elaborate reliquaries. Nothing was too good for beautifying God’s house, so that it could reflect God who is Beauty itself. The cathedrals are visual symphonies of evidence that prayer is fruitful, that God has always been and will always be interested and involved in our lives.

Finally, the art and architecture of the medieval cathedrals embody the fruit of prayer – intimacy with God. Jesus taught us to call God our Father, to pray with the intimacy of children. The immensity of the medieval cathedrals reveals this intimacy; it seems to lift us up closer to heaven. It is as if God Himself is beckoning to us through the beauty of the building, taking the initiative to lead us closer to Him instead of staying far away.

So, how is your prayer life? Is it persistent, confident and intimate, or is it hit-or-miss, superficial and empty? Do we show God’s house the proper respect and reverence that it deserves? Sometimes I have to wonder. It might surprise you to see how dirty the church is left after the weekend Masses. We find used tissues, cereal, pages torn from the missalettes and hymnals – once we even found a dirty diaper – left in the pews. This is not respect and reverence for God’s house. Are we, who often are much better off financially than our medieval ancestors, as willing to make sacrifices so that nothing is too good for beautifying God’s house, so that we can be lifted up in prayer?

When we begin to understand what Christian prayer is, and give it its proper place in our lives, we become more stable, joyful, and energetic people. As we respond today to Christ’s reminder about the nature of prayer, let us renew our commitment to taking time to be alone with God every day, so that our lives can run more smoothly, according to God, our loving Father’s will.