Providence in the battlefield of prayer

When I requested your prayers on July 3rd, little did I know what the outcome would be of what I then called a matter "of serious personal consequence." Many of you responded to that petition, and still many others did so, I believe, in heaven and on earth whose intercession I solicited. While discretion prevents the sharing of details concerning the matter itself, the following are some of my thoughts during what has been for me one of the most formidable and harrowing challenges of my life.

It is humbling to realize that such ordeals may not be at all unique or rare, but common; that families and individuals with whom one rubs shoulders every day may carry unspoken burdens in silence, behind taciturn or even cheerful demeanors. Those who bear such burdens may seem to many on the 'outside' to be at a distinct disadvantage when they quietly and prayerfully resign themselves to God's will, inasmuch as the options of dulling the pain through alcohol or self-indulgent escapism are not available to them, and they are compelled to face their grief or horror head-on, with heightened spiritual sensitivity to what is at stake and, therefore, a lower threshold of sensitivity and a greater likelihood of suffering. By the same token, from the 'inside' they are at a distinct advantage in that they have recourse, if they are properly informed, to a treasury of resources, consolations and graces buried deep within the heart of Catholic tradition, concerning which those inclined to fly from pain by anesthetizing themselves are likely to have little if any first-hand acquaintance.

This, then, is an ad hoc tapestry of some of those resources, consolations, and graces that blessed my way through the valley as it led through some very dark weeks and months.

The first, and surprising, discovery is that suffering -- whether it is sorrow, grief, or a sickening, gnawing fear of the worst that could still happen when you're in the midst of some ordeal with no end in sight -- can assume the form of an unexpected grace and blessing, when it brings one to his knees and draws him deeper into the Sacred Heart. And that is what it definitely tends to do when one is thrown back on his last resorts (which ought to have been his first), echoing the pleas of the Psalmist (Ps 73:25), "Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none on earth that I desire besides Thee" -- no one else to seek or trust in, none to protect him from the unseen Enemy, but God alone.

"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear," wrote C.S. Lewiswhen his wife lay dying of cancer, in an ordeal that looked at times like it might cost him his faith (at one point, in a crie de coeur at the end of his tether, he calls God "a cosmic sadist"). For me it was the opposite: no one told me that fear could feel so like grief, heavy with gnawing with suffocating stress. Nor did I anticipate how God's deliverance could come -- and it did come -- so unexpectedly and quietly, not with a bang or flare of trumpets, but like soft kitten feet, in the still small turns of conversation over an appetizer in a pub, an unanticipated shift in a phone conversation, a signature on a page made with a ballpoint pen.

How long will it take to learn to relax again, to sleep soundly, to face each day without seemingly endless convulsive sighs? I do not know. What I do know is how utterly unprepared I was for this trial. The road to hell is paved, they say, with good intentions. That is true in more ways than I ever realized; as good and sincere intentions provide no protection against naïveté, which can lead to a kind of living hell even for the person who undertakes to live a life of fidelity to Christ, His Church, and all that he loves and holds dear.

"My son, if you come forward to serve the Lord, prepare yourself for temptation [n. or 'trials']. Set your heart right and be steadfast ... Cleave to [God] and do not depart, that you may be honored at the end of your life. Accept whatever is brought upon you, and in changes that humble you be patient. For gold is tested in the fire, and acceptable men in the furnace of humiliation. Trust in Him, and He will help you: make your ways straight, and hope in Him." -- Sirach 2:1-6

One of my most difficult challenges, and one to which I never felt equal, was the simple act of trusting God to provide the outcome for which I prayed, and for which it was my duty and privilege to pray. Intellectual assent to the truths of our Faith are one thing. Yes, I believed in God's providence, His faithfulness, His love, His mercy, etc. When faced with a challenge that could turn my life upside down along with the life of my whole family, however, could I trust God to deliver?

It's funny what you remember from childhood. A verse from the Bible came to mind that I remember reading in the story of Robinson Crusoe in one of those Classic comic books I had as a kid. Crusoe was reading from Ps 50:15 -- "... and call upon me in the day of trouble; and I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me." Nice thought. But was it true? Why did I keep remembering examples of desperate prayers by friends and acquaintances that seemed to go unanswered -- at least as perceived from the limitations of our human horizon? The Devil, doubtless, was in the details. I must admit to having been weak and frequently entertained doubts. I felt like St. Peter must have when he stepped out of his boat to walk to Jesus on the water, and immediately cried for help when he saw the waves, his nerve failed, and he began to sink. Yet again, I felt like the doubting father of the possessed child in Mark 9:24, who, after being told that all things are possible to him who believes, cried out to Jesus: "I believe; help Thou my unbelief!"

Yet even the Agnostic's Prayer is one that may be answered: "Oh God ... if there is a God, have mercy on my soul ... if I have a soul." And as Thomas Merton once wrote, even if I do not know where I am going, and do not see the road ahead, the fact that I desire to please God must itself be pleasing to Him; so that if I have this desire, I may trust that He will lead me by the right road even if I know nothing about it, and though I seem to be lost and in the shadow of death, I may trust that He will never leave me to face my perils alone. Yet again, the words of my own patron also come to mind: "Lead, kindly Light, amid th'encircling gloom, lead thou me on! ... Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see the distant scene; one step enough for me."

What were some of the resources that I found helpful? First were all the obvious Bible texts that would come to mind for many of us; and these surprised me by their undiminished power to communicate God's steadfast love and providence, even after years of familiarity. If anything, they were driven home through repeated readings and recitation with a renewed sense of God communicating His mercy and grace in the present moment. Psalm 23 ("The Lord is my shepherd ...") became my constant companion, along with several other passages. This Psalm juxtaposes walking through a dark "valley of the shadow of death" with the comfort of God's protective presence. Why does the Psalmist say "I shall fear no evil"? Because "Thou art with me. Thy rod and Thy staff, the comfort me," and "Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil. My cup runneth over." Thus even in the midst of one's darkest valley, the Lord assures us that "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I shall dwellin the house of the Lord forever." Not a bad hope, that.

So, too, with Ps 121 ("I lift my eyes unto the hills ..."). The Psalmist asks: "From whence does my help come?" And he answers: "My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth ... He will not let thy foot be moved, he who keeps thee shall not slumber.... The Lord will keep thee from all evil; he will keep thy life...."

So, too with text from Ps 50:15 ("... and call upon me in the day of trouble"), that I mentioned having remembered from the Robinson Crusoe comic book I read as a child ("... and I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me"), and also the text from Sirach 2:1-6 ("My son, if you come forward to serve the Lord, prepare yourself for trials.... For gold is tested in the fire .... Trust in Him, and He will help you ... hope in Him").

Then there was Ps 68 (Exsurgat Deus) -- a Psalm about the God of Hosts (Armies) rising to our defense against our mortal Foe and his legions ("God arises, His enemeis are scattered ..."; the first part of which is incorporated into the magnificent Leonine Exorcism).

Then, again, there was the gunpowder language of that Leonine Exorcism itself, which, I must say, made good bedtime reading: "Most cunning serpent, you shall no more dare to deceive the human race, persecute the Church, torment God's elect and sift them as wheat. + The Most High God commands you. + He with whom, in your great insolence, you still claim to be equal .... Thus, cursed dragon, and you, diabolical legions ... stop deceiving human creatures and pouring out to them the poison of eternal damnation ... Begone, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit, enemy of man's salvation. Give place to Christ ... give place to the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church acquired by Christ at the price of His blood. Stoop beneath the all-powerful Hand of God; tremble and flee when we invoke the Holy and terrible Name of Jesus, this Name which causes hell to tremble, this Name to which the Virtues, Powers and Dominations of heaven are humbly submissive, this Name which the Cherubim and Seraphim praise unceasingly repeating: Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord, the God of Armies ...." Napalm in the morning, Napalm in the evening.

In a particularly dark and desolate frame of mind, I came across a wrinkled prayer card with the following Prayer to St. Anthony on the back, whose words were just what I needed:

O Holy St. Anthony, reach down from
heaven and take hold of my hand.

Assure me that I am not alone.
You are known to possess miraculous
powers and to be ever ready to speak
for those in trouble.

Loving and Gentle St. Anthony, reach
down from heaven I implore you and
assist me in my hour of need. Obtain
for me (mention your request here).

Dearest St. Anthony, reach down
from heaven and guide me with
thy strength. Plead for me in my
needs. And teach me to be humbly
thankful as you were for all the
bountiful blessings I am to receive.

Amen.

Another saint about whom I knew little, became especially meaningful to me, initially through a prayer card, and later through a wonderful Italian film of her life, which I happily recommend. The print on this prayer card was so small, I couldn't read it each morning without my glasses on, but the Prayer to Saint Rita,Saint of the Impossible, goes like this:

O HOLY PATRONESS of those in need, St. Rita, whose pleadings before thy Divine Lord are almost irresistible, who for thy lavishness in granting favors hast been called the Advocate of the Hopeless and even of the Impossible; St. Rita, so humble, so pure, so mortified, so patient and of such compassionate love for thy Crucified Jesus that thou couldst obtain from Him whatsoever thou askest, on account of which all confidently have recourse to thee, expecting, if not always relief, at least comfort; be propitious to our petition, showing thy power with God on behalf of thy suppliant; be lavish to us, as thou has been i so many wonderful cases, for the greater glory of God, for the spreading of thine own devotion, and for the consolation of those who trust in thee. We promise, if our petition is granted, to glorify thee by making known thy favor, to bless and sing thy praises forever. Relying then upon thy merits and power before the Sacred Heart of Jesus, we pray
(here mention your request).
Obtain for us our request
By the singular merits of thy childhood,
By thy perfect union with the Divine Will,
By thy heroic sufferings during thy married life,
By the consolation thou didst experience at the conversion of thy husband,
By the sacrifice of thy children rather than see them grievously offend God,
By thy miraculous entrance into the convent,
By thy severe penances and thrice daily bloody scourgings,
By the suffering caused by the wound thou didst receive from the thorn of thy Crucified Saviour,
By the divine love which consumed thy heart,
By that remarkable devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, on which alone thou didst exist for four years,
By the happiness with which thou didst part from thy trials to join thy Devine Spouse,
By the perfect example thou gavest to people of every state of life.
Pray for us, O holy St. Rita, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.
Amen.

A nun in California who has corresponded with me and kept me in her prayers for the past sixteen years sent me a holy card with a picture of Jesus with St. Joseph in his carpenter's shop with the following inscription on the back, in her handwriting:

"When the treasures of God were unsheltered on earth,
Safe-keeping was found for them both in thy worth!
There's no saint in heaven
St. Joseph like thee!
Sweet spouse of our Lady
We lean safe on thee!"

(from the old St. Gregory Hymnal) [emphasis hers]

Then we come to Our Lady herself, and to two devotions that have been close to my heart for some years, The Morning Offering to Our Lady of Mt. Carmel, and The Seven Dolors of Our Blessed Mother. Some of these card are not always produced with the closest attention to grammar or form (such as spelling "altars" as "alters," or omitting commas or misplacing them), although there is a certain charm even in the sheer humanness of such errors, to which I myself am prone.

The Morning Offering:

O my God, in union with the Immaculate Heart of Mary (here kiss your Scapular as a sign of your consecration; partial indulgence also), I offer the precious Blood of Jesus from all the altars throughout the world, joining it with the offering of my every thought, word and action of this day. O my Jesus, I desire today to gain every indulgence and merit I can and I offer them, altogether with myself, to Mary Immaculate, that She may best apply them in the interests of Thy Most Sacred Heart. Precious Blood of Jesus, save us!

Typically, when reciting the prayers of The Seven Dolors of Our Blessed Mother, since there are seven promises as well as Dolors, I like to state them together as couplets. I have no idea whether this is part of the tradition. It's simply what I have always done. Thus, after stating the first Dolor, The Prophecy of Simeon, I state the first promise: "I will grant peace to their families," followed by the Hail Mary; and so forth. On the particular prayer card sent to me by the Californian nun during the past summer, however, was an image of Our Lady of Quito with the following version of The Seven Sorrows of Mary:

The prophecy of Simeon
The flight into Egypt
The three-day loss of Jesus in the Temple at Jerusalem
The meeting with her Son on the way to Calvary
Mary standing at the foot of the Cross
The burial of her Divine Son

O Desolate Mother, who can know the tender affection of thy broken heart that was laid in the sepulchre with the body of thy Divine Son? He was thy all, He still is thy all, for dejection has no claim upon thee. Teach me, Mother of Sorrows, to place my hope in Him, that the false security of the world may never seduce me. Amen.

Our Father, Hail Mary,
O Mary Conceived, etc.

My greatest discovery, however, was a prayer card bearing the image of The Infant of Prague on its face and a "Powerful Novena of Childlike Confidence" on the back. When we were in Prague several years ago, we purchased a small porcelain statue of the Infant of Prague, the original of which is housed in Our Lady of Victory Catholic Church, which previously used to be a Lutheran church (a rare reversal of what one finds in places like the UK where all the beautiful old churches built by the previous Catholic civilization are now 'occupied' by Protestant state churches).

While I cannot say I know very much about the original story of the Infant of Prague, what totally captivated me was the synthesis of Biblical texts (Mt 21:22; Jn 14:13; Mt 24:35) that comprise the novena. The texts I was familiar with from my childhood, and I remember being intrigued by the straightforward bluntness of Christ's promises when I first became familiar with them as a child. At first I didn't know the novena was to be prayed at the same time every hour for nine consecutive hours -- just one day, so I was reciting the prayer once every day. But when I discovered my oversight, I found that this prayer quickly became my bread and butter as I made the novena repeatedly each day for a number of very intense weeks. Here it is -- the Novena to the Infant of Prague -- with corrected punctuation:

O Jesus, Who hast said, ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find, knock and it shall be opened to you, through the intercession of Mary, Thy Most Holy Mother, I knock, I seek, I ask that my prayer be granted.
(Make your request)

O Jesus, Who hast said, all that you ask of the Father in My Name, He will grant you, through the intercession of Mary, Thy Most Holy Mother, I humbly and urgently ask Thy Father in Thy Name that my prayer be granted.
(Make your request)

O Jesus, Who has said, "Heaven and earth shall pass away, but My word shall not pass," through the intercession of Mary, Thy Most Holy Mother, I feel confident that my prayer will be granted.
(Make your request)

I recently discovered that the Holy Father also has an appreciation of the Infant of Prague, when I when I read his address during his visit to the Infant of Prague at Our Lady of Victory on September 6, 2009.

I offer these Scripture texts and prayers, in part, as my thank offering to the Lord, His angels and His saints on whose intercession I leaned heavily throughout my ordeal, and in partial fulfillment for my duty to make known the grace of petitions answered. In the words of the prayer to St. Rita: "We promise, if our petition is granted, to glorify thee by making known thy favor, to bless and sing thy praises forever." My prayers have been abundantly answered indeed, much to my own shameful surprise; and I am grateful to all in heaven and on earth -- those named here and unnamed -- whose intercessions at the throne of God have borne this fruit of grace for His unworthy and doubting servant.