Prayer Advices

It was a lawyer who asked Jesus in the Gospel, ‘Who is my neighbour?’ He was probably expecting a definition that would determine the limits of his obligations. Instead of giving a definition, Jesus told a story about an unfortunate man who had been beaten, robbed and left half dead by the side of the road. Several respectable members of society heard his cry for help but ignored him. But one passer-by – a Samaritan – heard the man’s groans, was moved with compassion and came to his rescue. He bandaged his wounds, brought him to an inn, and even offered to pay his expenses. Having heard the story, the lawyer acknowledged that it was the despised Samaritan who truly was a neighbour to the unfortunate man. Jesus then concluded, ‘Go, and do the same yourself’. If Jesus were to tell the story today, perhaps he would tell it differently. He might talk about a family of Ukrainian refugees who had to flee their home in Mariupol. Leaving all their possessions behind, desperately hoping to find security for their children, they eventually arrive in a small village in the west of Ireland after months of rejection. There they are welcomed by the community, given shelter by a local family and warmly accepted into the local school. Or maybe Jesus would tell another story: about those who set out – often defying official regulations – to rescue migrants trying to cross the Mediterranean in flimsy boats about to sink. There are so many stories Jesus could tell about today’s Good Samaritans who come to the aid of our migrant neighbours. His parting words would remain unchanged, however: ‘Go, and do the same yourself.’

Patrick Carberry SJ, Living Prayer 2024

The story of Lazarus invites all of us to resurrection in the here and now! Jesus calls us out of the tomb and into the fullness of life, to experience the consolation of God’s love and peace today, not somewhere far off in the future. It is often easier to remain in the tomb, but Jesus wants more for us and says, ‘Lazarus, come forth.’ To the people Jesus demands, ‘Unbind him, let him go’, and then, ‘They took away the stone.’ In this story of liberation we are given a new insight into the power of faith and love. This is a message for us all to turn away from a culture of death, to help unbind one another and to allow ourselves and others to emerge into the light. To be saved in this sense is to be made well, to experience restoration. In the global sense, it means acknowledging that ‘Injustice is not invincible’ (Laudato Si’, 74). At the heart of this story is the fact that love can conquer all, even death and despair. We can all share in this risen life, in love and peace, today. Jesus comes so that we may live life to the full (John 10:10).

Tríona Doherty and Jane Mellett, The Deep End: A Journey with the Sunday Gospels in the Year of Matthew

Everything in creation has its own particular beauty and its own particular way of giving glory to God. This should make us think twice about the time we waste envying one another. If I find myself envious, I know that I have lost sight of the glorious, God-given this-ness of who I am. Who are you supposed to be? It is obvious; you are supposed to be you! 

Made in God’s image and likeness, our true selves are hidden in Christ, the New Adam. God’s only Son came to show us who we are and to help us to become ourselves fully. It might sound strange, but we will never be our true selves until we encounter Jesus Christ, the Son of God, and come to know him and love him as the Father’s greatest gift to creation. It is through Jesus that we are set free to be who we’re supposed to be.

At the beginning of his journey, St Francis prayed, ‘Who are you, Lord, and who am I?’ Francis came to see that the more God is revealed to us, the more we come to know who we really are, who we are supposed to be. Our true selves are hidden in Christ, waiting for us (Colossians 3:1–11). We don’t become who we are supposed to be through envy and competition. We relax, more and more, into our true selves when we begin to realise that we are loved unconditionally for who we are.

Liam Kelly OFM, The Sacred Heart Messenger, October 2024

Something you hear often these days: ‘What sort of world are we living in?’ We will start talking about Gaza, Israel, Ukraine, and a list of the places in the world today where there are wars, divisions and poverty, and about the harsh ways we treat each other. We can let it get to us. A few questions can help. Can I do anything about it? What can I do about Gaza? Very little. But it doesn’t mean I give up interest in it or being angry about it. We can do a little about this and many other situations. We can, for example, contact anyone whose family is working there and help financially. Further, am I right in what I say? Have I done any homework to know what the situation really is? We very often divide people everywhere into the Baddies and the Goodies. There are good people in Ukraine and in Russia. There are bad people in both places, too. Chat with people, read reliable reports; make sure to have the facts. We hope and pray for those who are working, often at great danger to themselves, for peace, prosperity and good lives for the millions who don’t have these.

Donal Neary SJ, The Sacred Heart Messenger, July 2024 

Dear Lord, one of the nicest cards I ever got had only four words on it: ‘I simply love you.’ At that time, this was what I most needed to hear. And, Lord, I always need to hear it from you.

I was greatly helped when, a few years ago, Pope Francis wrote in The Joy of the Gospel (n.6), ‘When everything is said and done, we are infinitely loved’. This massive statement about you, God, means that, no matter how I let you down, you delight in me as I am. I am radically loved; you are totally positive about me. Therapists try, more or less successfully, to develop unconditional positive regard for their clients, or else the therapeutic relationship will never take off. This reflects, at the human level, your regard for each of us. The relationship between you and me can take off only in this atmosphere. So let me believe, no matter what negative stories I carry from childhood, that no one can love me as you do, that you never turn away from me in despair or boredom and that nothing can increase or diminish your love for me.

Brian Grogan SJ, I Am Infinitely Loved

This journey of life is filled with such beauty at times. We could all do with slowing down and appreciating that beauty more often. Too often, we allow it to pass us by without recognition. We do sometimes catch it, though. Sometimes, we realise we are in the presence of beauty, and we allow ourselves to freeze time – to stay in that presence. In those moments, we are conscious enough to really experience beauty. While these moments may not come very often, when they do, they are often very emotional. They connect us to a central truth: that no matter what suffering there is in the world (and there is suffering in this world) and in our lives (there is and will be suffering in our lives), there is also beauty. We cannot explain why it is so; we can only accept that it is so.
This acceptance thing is hard to do. However, in accepting suffering, we are also free to accept and savour all the more the beauty we see and experience in the world.
Try praying for others: hold close to your heart in prayer all those who are suffering at this time; hold close to your heart in prayer all those who are sick; hold close to your heart in prayer all those who do not or cannot see beauty in their lives at this moment. 

Jim Deeds & Brendan McManus SJ, Finding God in the Mess

Saying ‘yes’ is a vital part of our relationship with God; it is our freedom to say ‘no’. So many times in my life, I look back on now and see clearly that I said ‘no’ (even if I didn’t understand it as saying ‘no’ to God at the time). Thank God, I can recall some times when I said ‘yes’ too. Saying ‘yes’ to God enables us to be a living presence of love, joy and mercy in this world. Our ‘yes’ always draws us to love and value ourselves, others and the world around us.
In Christian history and tradition, there are numerous people who said ‘yes’: Mary, Jeremiah, Moses and Peter, for example. Their yesses mattered. They may not have known exactly what they were saying ‘yes’ to, but they had the wisdom to know that God was asking and that they should say ‘yes’.
If you’re faced with a difficult yes, remember you’re in good company with those above. Know this too: those who say ‘yes’ are gifted for that yes (so we see Peter, the uneducated fisherman, become a learned scholar and leader of a new movement – a saint). You too will be gifted for your yes. 

Jim Deeds & Brendan McManus SJ, Finding God in the Mess

Our efforts may seem small and futile, but many Gospel episodes reveal the recurring motif that God has an eye for small people and small things. Think of the widow’s mite and the multiplication of the loaves and fish (Mark 12:41–44; 8:1–9). At Cana, dull water is turned into the best of wine (John 2:1–12); at the Last Supper, lowly bread and wine become the body and blood of the Lord (Luke 22:19–20). The life of each person, no matter how hidden, has its influence on all others (Romans 14:7). Any good deed, however small, that is done in love has an eternal quality, because love does not come to an end (1 Corinthians 13:8) and we will reap its reward at harvest time (Galatians 6:9). This grounds hope that our tiny contributions on behalf of our sick planet carry their own symbolic value. Julian of Norwich expresses this hope:

God showed me a little thing, the size of a hazel nut, lying in the palm of my hand. I looked upon it and thought, ‘What may this be?’ And I was answered, ‘It is all that is made.’ I marvelled how it might last, for I thought it might suddenly have fallen to nothing for smallness. And I was answered, ‘It lasts and ever shall, for God loves it. And so have all things their beginning by the love of God’. In this little thing I saw three truths: the first is that God made it; the second that God loves it; and the third that God keeps it safe.

Brian Grogan SJ, Creation Walk:The Amazing Story of a Small Blue Planet

Although Mary spoke only a handful of times in the New Testament, her personality and character have spoken to countless believers ever since. And not only to Catholics. Mary draws millions of people to shrines across the world. In addition to well-known shrines such as Guadalupe, Lourdes and Fatima, there are many other Marian shrines around the world which attract believers of other faiths.

Mary’s life was about a yes in reply to a love beyond all her dreams of love. Mary made a decision in response to a gift. She received the gift of an encounter with God who drew so near to her that the human flesh of his only-begotten Son was knitted together in her womb. At the heart of Mary’s life was this love story with God, a love story that ideally can be at the heart of our lives as well.

Like any good mother, Mary gets us in touch with the affective dimension of our lives and frees us up to be receptive to God. The first step to God is not a matter of theory. Neither is it an exercise in willpower alone. More often it’s about opening up the basic flow of our lives so that we are ready to move towards trust, goodness and love. We easily get stuck in tired ways of doing things. But encountering the depth of Mary is a humbling invitation to live out of the depths of ourselves. She helps us to go deeper than our surface selves, and to anchor ourselves in a rootedness that goes back through the generations to Abraham and Sarah, and even predates them. She helps us see what marvels the Almighty has done for us. She enables us to rejoice in God our Saviour.

Thomas G. Casey SJ, Mary in Different Traditions

Mount Tabor is the place where Peter, James and John saw Jesus in the brightness of his glory. They saw the divinity that was hidden by humanity. This day is the dawn of the faith of the apostles in who Jesus is, and his divine life. In his humanity and his total identity, he is the image of God. They recognised him because they knew him as a man. And then they heard the voice which said, ‘This is my beloved son’ (Matthew 17:5).

That voice had spoken before – at the baptism of Jesus. But then it was heard only by Jesus. Now Jesus is being revealed to his disciples as the Son of God. ‘This is my beloved son’. It’s interesting what follows. God then says, ‘listen to him’. Listening to the word of God is one of the most important graces of a Christian. At Mass, we bow to the place of the Word – it is Christ who is speaking in the reading of the Word – as we bow to the bread and wine on the altar. In word and sacrament, Jesus is speaking and present in the Church.

Jesus also spoke of the future, letting the apostles know that this day would be appreciated only when he was raised from the dead. Then they would grasp the full meaning of the Transfiguration and could allow themselves for some time to wonder what ‘rising from the dead’ would mean.

Peter, James and John would remember this day forever. In fact, Peter wrote about it in his first letter. We can open ourselves to this grace of knowing the divinity and humanity of Christ and of believing deep down in our hearts that one day we will be transfigured, so that our mortal bodies will be like his.

Donal Neary SJ, The Sacred Heart Messenger, August 2024