THE PRAYERFUL GRACE OF OUR NEED

And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 

-- 2 Corinthians 12:9

By our Lenten fast we choose to inhabit discomforts we tend otherwise to avoid. When my fast makes me hungry or tired, or deprives me of comfort, I am confronted by the chasm of my human neediness. Perhaps I am startled to find myself sorrowful, angry, afraid, or given to petty vengefulness. Maybe I am surprised by how often I rely on the people around me to bear my anxieties. Now that my fast has left me in a land of little distraction, I see anew the depth of my need.

Often we commit to prayer with recognizable dedication only in response to such need. To respond to neediness with prayer is an appropriate, and distinctly Lenten, pattern. No fast is complete without a complementary practice of prayer.

All the same, it is important to pause and discern the questions embedded in our felt urgency toward such prayer. When prayer is occasioned by need, the impulse to pray is often motivated by pursuit of relief from need, not desire for communion with God. To want relief makes sense: when pain is felt, it is logical to want it gone. However, the purpose of prayer -- even petitionary prayer -- is ultimately not that my problems may be solved or my desires satisfied.

Julian of Norwich, who frequently uses the word “beseeching” interchangeably with “prayer” in her Revelations of Divine Love, defines prayer as follows: “Beseeching is a true and gracious, lasting will of the soul, made one with and fastened into the will of our Lord by the sweet, secret working of the Holy Ghost.”

By Julian’s definition, “beseeching” is not a matter of demanding and receiving satisfaction, comfort, or relief. Instead, prayer is the practice of submitting the will to the “sweet, secret working of the Holy Ghost,” until it is “oned” with the will of our Lord. Thus, the most important outcome of prayer is simply union of my will with the will of God. In prayer, my whole self is offered to God, who heals me and then returns me to myself redeemed, comforted, and strengthened for the challenges -- Lenten or otherwise -- of this day.

When he lived on earth, the will of our Lord was wholly bent upon his progress toward Calvary and Easter. By the prayerful union of our will with his -- practiced in Lent by fasting and prayer, and accomplished by “the sweet, secret working of the Holy Ghost” -- we are united with this movement of Christ’s will to “go up to Jerusalem.” We are made to find our life and peace in this union and its pattern of death and resurrection.

Thus there is redemption in the impulse to pray in response to need. If our neediness reminds us that prayer is as necessary to our health as is breath, that neediness is redeemed. Though it may remain an emptiness, wound, or burden, through prayer we come to experience our need as grace, as opportunity for deeper communion with God. 

Perhaps, then, we might pray like this:

Lord, today I am desperately aware of my neediness. With all the urgency of my desire for relief, I plead with you to grant me __[make your specific request known here]___. Even so, I trust that your grace holds me even here, in this [_name an adjective that describes the state of your soul__] place. I trust that your wisdom is greater than mine. More than I long for relief from need, I choose to long for the union of my will with your holy will. By the power of the Holy Ghost, sweetly visit me here, now, and always, and one my will with yours. 

Be it unto me according to your word. 

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost I pray. Amen.