Of prayers and paper clips
William Congdon, crucifix 64, 1973.
webpage here. (I didn’t see permissions policy or copyright notice. I’ll be glad to abide by one if copyright holder lets me know.)
I’m learning to pray using the Catholic Rosary as a “method”—the word John Paul II used to describe the Rosary in his encyclical here. The page I refer to as I say the Rosary is here.
This morning I said the Rosary entire, all 20 mysteries, just to see what it’s like. I don’t know if experimentation takes away from the merit of the thing or not. But I don’t much care about merit, to be blunt. All that stuff about the goodies you get for saying the Rosary demeans it, just from my viewpoint.
I figure I’m a sinner and I’m standin’ in the need o’ prayer—any how any where any time. Especially contemplative prayer.
Growing up I heard lots of people pooh pooh Catholics and ritual prayers. But I noticed that often our Baptist prayers were rote. People said the same words over and over again and again. Only we never thought through what we said, never paid any mind to the beauty or cadence of our words. It wasn’t ritual; it was rut.
Well, no sermons.
One, my fingers are sore after sliding paper clips 200 times through thumb and index finger. It’s a cloudy, rainy day. Arthritis likes to come out and play anyway on such days.
Two, it took one hour, 21 minutes. I’m lucky enough to have that much solitude. Most people don’t.
Three, I did announce each Mystery (event in Jesus’ life) and spiritual fruit prayed for three times, not once, so that I’ll learn them. The unfamiliar ones I read through the description of, which is on the website (above).
I like the pictures. But the people are all white. Not a Middle Eastern complexion among them. So they somewhat hindered my reflection. I had to keep reminding myself that Jesus looked like a terrorist is supposed to look like. The same is true for everyone around him.
Do I feel a deep sense of peace, or of God’s presence? Not particularly.
The thing about ritual is, you gotta put it in place, use it until the edges fray a bit. Then, some day when it’s the last thing on your mind, ka zam!
You feel the Holy Spirit. You’re suddenly on Cloud 9.
However—it’s a big however—the Spirit is there as you’re building the house, there during every boring day, just as fully as the day when the air tingles and your feet don’t touch the ground. Those FX are spiritual cotton candy, lots of fun, but not essential. And every carnivore on the midway, including Satan, has a large display of them.
Nobody was praising God for the cotton candy at the cross.