I've started a daily Rosary again after stopping in September or so. I was convinced that I was doing it for the wrong reasons. Maybe I was, in some way. On the other hand, the evil one wants us to stop praying.
Being an ex-Protestant, I have an ingrained suspicion of formal and repetitious prayers. Yet what I have found is that the mental and spiritual effort required to place oneself in the presence of God is the context for my disposition to change, and allow the true love that flows from the Spirit to come out. That's the same love that animates so many of the less formal prayers of which we are so fond.
There is something about going back to the mysteries of Christ's life, to speaking with God and his saints, that makes the common life less common. Is not the story of redemption the breaking of God into the all-too-common, sin-riddled world that he had made? Are not his saints the living stories of that redemption and grace?
So here we are. I should just say here that I have gravitated toward the Sorrowful Mysteries from the first. There is a practical reason; I memorized them easily and quickly. The more interesting question is, "Why did that occur?"
I can say a few things about that. First, I have more than a passing acquaintance with sorrow. Second, perhaps my ever-present need for forgiveness--and a powerful desire for it--has never waned. I would never de-value or de-emphasize any of the saving work that Christ has done, whether his Ascension, or Resurrection, or whatever you wanted to name. But in the wisdom of God, there is something central about the Cross. Dr. Watts wrote, "Sorrow and love flow mingled down," and that's mostly right. Forgiveness and love is more apt. We have cause to sorrow over our sins that put Him there, but I do not think He has cause to sorrow over what flows to us from that Cross, nor in what it accomplishes and will accomplish. Indeed, He delights to give those gifts. He loves us more than we love ourselves, and that is something I will one day learn to believe.
Being an ex-Protestant, I have an ingrained suspicion of formal and repetitious prayers. Yet what I have found is that the mental and spiritual effort required to place oneself in the presence of God is the context for my disposition to change, and allow the true love that flows from the Spirit to come out. That's the same love that animates so many of the less formal prayers of which we are so fond.
There is something about going back to the mysteries of Christ's life, to speaking with God and his saints, that makes the common life less common. Is not the story of redemption the breaking of God into the all-too-common, sin-riddled world that he had made? Are not his saints the living stories of that redemption and grace?
So here we are. I should just say here that I have gravitated toward the Sorrowful Mysteries from the first. There is a practical reason; I memorized them easily and quickly. The more interesting question is, "Why did that occur?"
I can say a few things about that. First, I have more than a passing acquaintance with sorrow. Second, perhaps my ever-present need for forgiveness--and a powerful desire for it--has never waned. I would never de-value or de-emphasize any of the saving work that Christ has done, whether his Ascension, or Resurrection, or whatever you wanted to name. But in the wisdom of God, there is something central about the Cross. Dr. Watts wrote, "Sorrow and love flow mingled down," and that's mostly right. Forgiveness and love is more apt. We have cause to sorrow over our sins that put Him there, but I do not think He has cause to sorrow over what flows to us from that Cross, nor in what it accomplishes and will accomplish. Indeed, He delights to give those gifts. He loves us more than we love ourselves, and that is something I will one day learn to believe.
Comments