Preparing for Mass

My family has taken on a suggestion on how to more fully participate in Sunday Mass.

We’ve been trying (albeit somewhat haphazardly) to go over the Mass readings ahead of time, to ponder what the Holy Spirit might be saying to us individually, using a prayerful method of spiritual reading called lectio divina.

This involves first praying to the Holy Spirit as we seek His inspiration. Someone reads the passage, with each of us listening for a word or phrase that might jump out at us from the passage. Then we are supposed to reflect further on what that word or phrase means in our own individual lives. (I say “supposed to” because typically all this reflecting and pondering gets a lot of disruptions in my family. But we’re working on it.)

And the goal, of course, is to find our personal message from God, in His Word.

I know my children’s prayer lives have to go beyond rote prayers if they are to develop a personal relationship with God. So this endeavor seemed perfect: a way for them to try to still themselves enough to hear His voice and His unique plans and desires for them.

So far, though, our attempts have been far from perfect. Sometimes a few of us will go over the readings hastily, right before Mass. Ideally, we should have been reading them one at a time, over the course of the preceding week.

Other times, we forget entirely, and examine the readings after Mass, on Sunday evenings. And at best we’ve done this with only three or four people, not the entire household. Still working on that.

Last Sunday seemed like another miserable attempt. Again, we had forgotten until Sunday evening. And the gathering ended up just two people – me and a 7-year-old, David, sitting in our van in a high school parking lot.

We had dropped two boys off at a basketball practice when I suddenly remembered our forgotten duty. I pulled out a monthly Magnificat prayer magazine I keep in my purse, which contains Mass readings for each day. And I tried to choose the easiest reading for a first-grader.

David listened as I read the brief passage from St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians: “. . . I have learned the secret of being well fed and of going hungry, of living in abundance and of being in need. I can do all things in Him Who strengthens me.”

“Stop!” David yelled. “Strengthens.”

That was the word that jumped out for him, and I didn’t read any further. “Okay,” I said. “Why don’t we just memorize that whole line, ‘I can do all things in Him Who strengthens me.’?”

 I offered him a reward if he could do it.

We took the sentence apart bit by bit to help: “I can do all things … in Him … Who strengthens me.”

We had errands to do, so we drove off. As we went on, I would say each phrase and David would repeat it after me – over and over again. “I can do all things . . . in Him . . . Who strengthens me.”

By the time we were through with our errands, he pretty much had it memorized, though I still needed to prompt him with the first words. But good enough, I told him. And we splurged with a McDonald’s meal.

I tested him a couple more times this week, and he has mostly remembered the words. His older brother, Paul, overheard us, and I challenged him to create a picture illustrating the quote that would be worthy of framing and hanging on a wall. He came up with ideas immediately.

The most unexpected thing, however, has been how St. Paul’s words have been working on me as they come back to me from time to time. It’s been a busy, overwhelming week, and more than once I’ve thrown an all-out pity party for myself.

But then God reminds me what real problems and suffering look like.

And I remember: “I can do all things in Him Who strengthens me.”

Inspired by the Year of Faith, Susan Szalewski began writing weekly columns for us. Although that year is over, we liked them so well that we asked her to keep writing. Thankfully, she said yes. So watch for these on Thursdays and see the Year of Faith Blog here.

An Introduction to Lectio Divina

During this Year of Faith, let's resolve to grow closer to Christ -- to know Him, to listen to Him -- through prayer.

One particular form of prayer,  lectio divina, can help. Lectio divina is an ancient way of prayer, a slow, careful reading of the Word of God or other holy writings. Sometimes prayer can seem like a one-way conversation in which we talk to God but He doesn't speak to us. In lectio divina, we patiently, silently listen to Him. The Scriptures truly become a living Word, speaking to our particular circumstances in our individual lives.

Much has been written about lectio divina in books and online. Like a lot of things in the spiritual life, it is simple yet deep. I offer an introduction and invite you to dive further. Investigate, too, how to use lectio divina as a family or group.

• Start with a simple prayer to Holy Spirit, asking Him to speak to you.
• Choose a text from Scripture or a spiritual writing. It could be from the daily Mass readings, a random text, or you could work your way through a particular book of the Bible.  I try to use the daily readings and meditations in Magnificat, a monthly prayer publication. When reading the Bible, don't necessarily have a determined amount of text to plow through, one author cautions. Let God determine how much you are to read.
• Read the passage slowly and leisurely, listening for a word, a phrase that seems to stand out to you, that speaks to you. I keep a prayer journal and begin by writing the words that jump out at me.
• Be like Mary, ponder God's word. Reread. What is He trying to tell you? This part of the prayer might be awkward at first. When I first tried lectio divina, sometimes I wondered if I was putting my words in God's mouth. I just prayed that I would hear God's voice alone and learned to be at peace with what I thought He was saying to me. With practice it becomes easier to recognize His voice, not just in Scripture but in all aspects of life. Another author on lectio divina offered this additional advice: When praying and listening, distractions might not be distractions. God might be speaking to you about what is weighing on your mind. Let the events and experiences of your life intertwine with Scripture in God's unique message for you.
• Further the conversation. Speak to God and let Him speak back. Writing everything down somehow helps the words flow for me and keeps me from forgetting my little exchanges with the Almighty.
• Lastly, prayer isn't meant to be a formula. Keep true to the basic form but tweak it if necessary to fit into your relationship with God. 

We might be tempted to be jealous of the saints who had extraordinary encounters with God. Adam and Eve visited with Him in the Garden of Eden; Moses spoke to Him in the burning bush and on Mount Horeb; Jacob wrestled with Him; the apostles walked the face of the earth with Him, saints like Margaret Mary and Faustina were given His instructions through visions. But we, too, can talk with our God and question Him, wrestle with Him, seek His face and be enlightened and led by Him -- through our attentive prayer.

Inspired by this Year of Faith we will be posting columns like this from Susan Szalewski about exploring and/or deepening our faith. Watch for it on Thursdays and see the Year of Faith Blog here.

Blessings via Pope Francis

Every day we receive countless blessings from God, but last Friday we got a couple of bonuses, by way of our Holy Father, Pope Francis.

First off, we learned that we will have two new saints to help us to Heaven when Popes John XXIII and John Paul II are canonized, possibly before the end of the year. These popes have led at least two generations by their teaching and example. Soon the Church will be able to spotlight their lives for even more generations.

Secondly, we have a new encyclical, Lumen Fidei  (The Light of Faith). This encyclical was mostly written by Pope Benedict XVI, with Pope Francis adding some of his own touches and releasing it to the faithful. The collaboration highlights the greatness of both men: Pope Benedict's brilliant, deep faith and Pope Francis' profound humility in allowing another pope's unfinished work to become his first encyclical. Some have said that Pope Francis' contributions to the encyclical can be seen in his practical, down-to-earth style in sharing the faith.

Lumen Fidei caps off two previous encyclicals by Pope Benedict. Together they teach us about the divine virtues of faith, hope and love. Lumen Fidei celebrates our current Year of Faith and should top our reading lists. 

I'll admit that when I first learned about the encyclical I was reluctant to begin reading it. I felt obliged to read it but thought I might get bored by a scholarly work. But my homework quickly turned into joyful prayer as I heard God speaking through the words and teaching. Apparently I wasn't the only one to have that experience. One priest-blogger remarked that a portion of chapter three "leaped off the page and into my heart."

I haven't finished reading Lumen Fidei yet. I have decided to continue to savor the encyclical by reading it prayerfully and slowly through lectio divina. I would encourage everyone to be enriched in the same way.

Inspired by this Year of Faith we will be posting columns like this from Susan Szalewski about exploring and/or deepening our faith. Watch for it on Thursdays and see the Year of Faith Blog here.