Lord, Have Mercy
Cultivating a Life of Conversion Through Prayer of Continual Longing
... we pray as we live, because we live as we pray. – CCC 2752
Catholics are called to a life of continuous conversion, a life spent progressively pursuing the ideal set by Christ Himself. Indeed, we are commanded to “be perfect, as [our] heavenly Father is perfect.” St. Paul uses similarly strong language when he commands Christians to pray without ceasing. Further study of Sacred Scripture and Tradition alike leaves little doubt that these are connected principles — as well as seemingly insurmountable challenges — both of which highlight the universal call to holiness. To achieve the former requires living a life in pursuit of the latter. In short, Catholics must undergo theosis if they are to live out their faith in action, which is to say, to live a prayer-filled life. How can such a thing be possible in light of a nearly ubiquitous human inclination toward sin? The solution to this riddle is on full display in “Lumen Gentium,” which masterfully captures the key to such growth: “In order that the faithful may reach this perfection, they must use their strength accordingly as they have received it, as a gift from Christ. They must follow in His footsteps and conform themselves to His image seeking the will of the Father in all things.” In other words, a life of ceaseless prayer requires living in constant obedience.
Rather than relegating the use of “constant” and “without ceasing” to the realm of hyperbole, we must expand our thinking with respect to prayer … and with respect to obedience. Incorrectly limiting the definition of prayer to the mere utterance of words would do a disservice to the pursuit, inevitably causing one to abandon their Pauline quest, now made impossible through misunderstanding. After all, no human can say prayers without ceasing. But hope is not lost. St. Thomas Aquinas encourages us to persevere by suggesting that the concept of prayer should not be too closely connected to terms of time: “Length of a prayer consists, not in praying for many things, but in the affections persisting in the desire of one thing.” Length of prayer matters much less than the requisite focus on God, the object and source of all prayer. And yet, the commandment remains. The length of a prayer may be significantly less important than its focus, but that does not address the fact that we are told to persist in perpetual prayer.
To reach the heart of the issue, we must dive back into the definition of prayer, for its scope and impact extend far beyond typical usage. The meaning includes the verbal prayers we all know and love, to be sure, but it does not stop there. Prayer is also that which precedes and flows from the prayers we utter. It encompasses the entirety of a Catholic’s life — that is to say, life itself can become a prayer. Indeed, words themselves are rendered optional when prayer is grounded in and consumed with the Incarnate Word. To pray without ceasing is to pursue Christ without end. That is the target.
Preceding any sincere attempts at this prayerful pursuit is an interior reorientation of the heart toward God. Truly, “attention is of the very essence of prayer. … As soon as this attention ceases, prayer ceases.” To pray is to fix one’s attention on God, fully recognizing the proper order of creation, giving Our Lord the honor He is due. In this way, the faithful Catholic becomes more like God. But in prayer, as in life, distractions pour in, eroding one’s focus, even stopping prayer altogether. Succumbing to distractions “necessarily terminates the prayer, which is resumed only when the mind is withdrawn from the object of distraction.” Distractions persist, so considerable care must be given to cultivating a life that is conducive to prayer. Monastics go to great lengths to facilitate this through rigid structures and strict adherence to schedules. Counterintuitive though it may seem, the purpose is not to relegate prayer to particular times, but to instill in the religious “the sense of time being punctuated by prayer, that praying is inseparable from life itself.”
Of course, none of this would be remotely possible without the prompting and empowering of the Holy Spirit, as we see with the saints of old. “The Catechism thinks of Moses when it highlights the initiative of God in prayer: ‘God calls Moses from the midst of the burning bush’ (cf. Ex. 3:1–10).” Due to the volatility and weakness of the human will, combined with the incessant distractions already discussed, we must be careful not to journey alone. St. Benedict, knowing this all too well, was rumored to frequently invoke divine assistance. He, as well as other monastics like him, would use this simple phrase, “God, come to my assistance,” to seek constant aid from the Lord. The decision to begin prayer (or anything, for that matter) with a request for God’s help may seem small, but its impact is consequential. The practice went so far as to prompt “Cassian to write some of his most inspiring teaching in which he said that if those words were repeated throughout the day — at work, in reading, in physical weakness, in moments of temptation — they would lead to a continuous state of prayer.”
Throughout Church history, from the ancient Desert Fathers to the Orthodox priest found in “The Way of a Pilgrim” to modern-day apologists, a tremendous amount of attention has been paid to finding practical ways to live out St. Paul’s command to pray without ceasing. Historically speaking, in the East, the “Jesus Prayer” and related prayer rope take center stage in terms of practice. While initially celebrated by the clergy and religious, the prayer has become a widespread practice among Eastern Catholics and Orthodox Christians alike. Between the abundance of readily available information and the closer connection cultivated between East and West by the likes of Pope St. John Paul II, the practice continues to gain momentum. In the West, the Rosary is queen. Even still, a multiplicity of other prayer practices have emerged, and new devotions frequently capture the attention of faithful Latin Rite Catholics. Following a Salesian model, Western Catholics seek to incorporate prayer into everyday life by creating prayers for everything a day might hold. Regardless of the specific location, all these prayer practices are designed to start with an emphasis on preparation, as we see in St. Francis de Sales’ immortal guide.
Preparation for prayer takes many shapes, but it starts with eschewing pride. There seems to be a close connection between the command to pray without ceasing and the mandate to “Go, and sin no more.” Both point to conversion. Both demand humility. Together they form the path that leads to reconciliation, for penitence is the crux of prayer. Perhaps more than any other practice, the Jesus Prayer reinforces the confessional relationship between us and God. It is the ideal embodiment of the principles for penitential prayer, a particular kind of prayer which compels Catholics toward prayer of other sorts: of praise and adoration, almsgiving and acts of charity. The Catechism teaches that “Interior repentance is a radical reorientation of our whole life, a return, a conversion to God with all our heart,” which includes not just contrition but “an end of sin, a turning away from evil, … it entails the desire and resolution to change one’s life, with hope in God’s mercy and trust in the help of his grace.”
How can it be the case that penitence is the crux of all prayer when we spend so much of our prayer life giving thanks and making requests? Penitence precedes both of those responses because it expresses the essential relationship between us and God. In giving thanks, we recognize our inability to redeem ourselves and our need for a Savior. In making requests, we humble ourselves before the Giver of Life, knowing that He sustains us even though we tend to cut ourselves off from His lovingkindness. Binding these focuses together is a posture of penitence. For this reason, penitence truly is the crux of prayer. Like the Cross it points to, penitence is the first step toward cultivating a life of continuous conversion. Christians must not only recognize the divine order but determine to uphold it. This theme of obedience is foreshadowed throughout the Old Testament. “This free submission of Abraham to the Word of God is called by the Catechism, ‘the obedience of faith,’ a phrase from Saint Paul (Rom. 1:5). This concerns us because prayer, contemplative prayer, is the privileged moment of that obedience of faith.” Our obedience is fulfilled by prayer; our faith is displayed in prayer; our life is changed through prayer.
Before turning to the prayer named after Him, let us call attention to the nature of Jesus’ appeal to conversion. Conversion is not primarily a matter of good works, but of “... the conversion of the heart, interior conversion.” The Catechism pushes the envelope further, however, by telling us that penances without such interior conversion “remain sterile and false.” This life of constant conversion is far from a lukewarm act of love. It requires total surrender. Catholics would benefit from remembering that “interior repentance is a radical reorientation of our whole life, a return, a conversion to God with all our heart, an end of sin, a turning away from evil.” Radical reorientation brings us closer to Christ.
Deciding to obey the prompting of the Spirit is the right next step, but it is not the finish line. To get there, we must turn our attention to the how. How can we accomplish this when we are all too acutely aware of our inability to remain consistent? This is where the Jesus Prayer showcases its strength. If the Our Father is the ideal prayer in terms of content and scope, then the Jesus Prayer is the ideal in terms of form and focus: it homes in only on the essential relational need between the person praying and their Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. But why go beyond the Lord’s Prayer if it is already perfect? Turning again to St. Thomas, we see that “Our Lord instituted this prayer, not that we might use no other words when we pray, but that in our prayers we might have none but these things in view, no matter how we express them or think of them.” If anything, leveraging the Jesus Prayer is in and of itself paying homage to the Our Father; the latter motivates the former, while the former depends on its forebear.
In terms of form, the Jesus Prayer is ideal because it mimics breath itself. It is optimized, as it were, for frequency. The form itself foments the development of pious habits. Short though it may be, it cuts to the heart of the salvation narrative by underscoring each individual’s need for redemption — redemption that comes through Jesus alone. It successfully mirrors and brings into focus its predecessor in a simplified form. Its merits continue. In the Jesus Prayer, as we inhale, we pray the words “O Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God,” similar to the familiar invocation of “Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.” Both phrases recognize human placement in the divine order. Both acknowledge the Kingship of God. Both start in a posture of humility. The Jesus Prayer concludes with “have mercy on me, a sinner,” which in turn points back to the famous line at the center of the Our Father: “... and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”
To pray without ceasing is to unite our will to God’s. To pray without ceasing is to live out prayer in action. Frequently, when Jesus discusses faith, He emphasizes obedience. Christ does not mince words when He tells His disciples to “be perfect.” If a Christian is to have even the slightest chance of achieving such a lofty and elusive goal, it will be only through constant prayer and penance. Leaning on the Jesus Prayer prepares faithful Catholics to merge thought with action, word with deed, by keeping the sacred words on the tip of their tongues. In this way, it paves the way for perfection. May the pilgrim’s cause become our own so that the words of the starets may come to describe our life: “The unceasing interior Jesus Prayer is the uninterrupted, continual calling upon the divine name of Jesus Christ, with the lips, the mind, and the heart, while calling to mind His constant presence and beseeching His mercy … in all places, at all times, and even while sleeping.”
Prayer does not exist in a vacuum, nor is it restricted to mere words. Quite the opposite, in fact — prayer is an outpouring of the deeper realities of our newfound identities in Christ. We know that charity reigns supreme above the other virtues, but we often think of it only as a series of kind gestures, or perhaps as the general sentiment that motivates the decisions behind them. Aquinas elucidates this principle with characteristic nuance:
The cause of prayer is the desire of charity, from which prayer ought to arise: and this desire ought to be in us continually, either actually or virtually, for the virtue of this desire remains in whatever we do out of charity; and we ought to do all things to the glory of God (1 Cor. 10:31). From this point of view, prayer ought to be continual: wherefore Augustine says to Proba (Ep. cxxx.): Faith, hope and charity are by themselves a prayer of continual longing.
Catholic teaching on charity is inseparable from the person of Jesus Christ. We are called to love, yes, but it is not an abstract mandate. That love has a personal source and a relational end. This is no aimless charity we are called to embody but vigilant and effusive adoration due only to God. To pray without ceasing is to become like Christ: keeping His will and His Church front and center of everything we do. To do so requires a reflection on the archetypal essence of God’s will: God wills that all may repent of their sins and enjoy perfect communion with Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
This brings us back to obedience. To follow the two great commandments is to embrace a radically different way of life. The Jesus Prayer is the key to the requisite evolution. It is the conduit for the needed elevation of attention. The simple yet profound contents of the Jesus Prayer offer the faithful an incomparable opportunity to cultivate this life of constant conversion through penitential prayer. The centuries-old practice remains as relevant to us as it was to the Desert Fathers; it truly is timeless. Throughout the world, even in the West, the Church is witnessing “a renaissance of interest in the regular, slow, silent repetition of the ‘Jesus Prayer’: ‘Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, have mercy on me.’”
Make no mistake: this is not about choosing Eastern practices over Western. This is about embracing the combined contents of Sacred Tradition, about remembering Pope John Paul II’s famous decree; this is about celebrating the best of what Church history has to offer; it is about elevating our lives through unending prayer. St. Teresa of Avila sums it up in her reflection on the relational emphasis of contemplative prayer: “Contemplative prayer in my opinion is nothing else than a close sharing between friends; it means taking time frequently to be alone with Him who we know loves us.” No prayer better captures this focus than the Jesus Prayer. Its very existence is a symbol of salvation, its utterance a reminder of our need for redemption. This prayer is not designed for Mass but for mystics seeking an intimate relationship with Christ. It is meant to become a part of us, like the act of breathing it follows, so that our very being is changed. A life of constant conversion necessitates an exchange of identity — ours for Christ’s. The Jesus Prayer exhorts Catholics to be so consumed with their Lord that every iota of their existence is conformed to His will. The vision may not be fully realized on this side of heaven, but the pursuit must start here and now.
Lord, have mercy, indeed.