Praying through Lent

"Discipline" carries unpleasant connotations. When we say somebody was “disciplined,” it usually means somebody did something to them we wouldn’t want done to us. When I was a boy, “disciplined” and “punished” meant the same thing; it bespoke the strap, the paddle or being sent to bed without supper.

So when we talk about the Lenten disciplines of Fasting, Prayer and Almsgiving, we start out with a few strikes already. It’s worth noting, though, that the word “discipline” is related to the word “disciple” (or, “disciples,” as in “The Twelve”).

If we can lay aside the notion—at least for a few minutes—that “getting disciplined” and “getting whipped” mean the same thing, and focus briefly on the relationship between “discipline” and “disciple,” a more profound meaning emerges. The traditional Lenten disciplines aren’t punishments for our sins, but ways we train ourselves; they’re the sprinting and deep-knee bends and bench-presses of the spiritual life.

St John of Damascus says “Prayer is the lifting of the heart and mind to God.” It is a way of continual fellowship—friendship—with God, Who has made us for Himself. We’ve been created to enjoy this “friendship with God,” as St Thomas Aquinas says, from now till world without end.

If it’s supposed to be all that, why is it listed as one of the Lenten disciplines? How is “prayer” different in Lent than at any other time?

The short answer is, it’s not. But Lent is a time of “training.” If prayer, fasting and almsgiving are the “exercises” of Lent, Lent itself is our spiritual “two-a-days”: a season of the spirit, a time we specially devote to prayer.

The Common Prayer Book provides a special daily collect for Lent. It’s on page 124. Eastern Orthodox Christians have a daily prayer they recite during Lent, the beautiful Prayer of St Ephrem the Syrian. The season provides us special devotions, like the Stations of the Cross, but Lenten prayer means more than that. These special prayers and devotions help focus us on the penitential character of Lent. But the real emphasis of Lenten prayer is prayer itself, not special prayers for the time of year.

To “lift the heart and mind to God,” doesn’t just mean to engage in what teachers of prayer call “colloquial” or “conversational” prayer. Such prayer is good, but it doesn’t so much to “lift the heart and mind to God” as much as to bring God into the daily activities of our lives. The short book, The Practice of the Presence of God, by the French 17th century kitchen-monk Brother Lawrence, is the best thing yet written about “colloquial” prayer. Lawrence shows how such a conversation becomes a high prayer, transcending what most of us know as “conversational prayer.”

To lift “the heart and mind to God” is to put yourself, your time, your emotions and thoughts, at God’s disposal. It requires time, which most of us think we don’t have much of. There is money to be made, families to be cared for, places to go, people to see, television to watch.

In the old John Wayne movie The Alamo, one of the characters asks Davy Crockett if he ever prays. Crockett bitterly answers “I never found the time,” implying he’s always had more pressing things to do.

If our prayer is to lift the heart and mind, it takes the time. Not just now and then, but the regular gift to God of yourself, your energy, your time. In other words, it requires discipline. An excellent book to help with this is on this site, under the tab "Readings for the Spiritual Life." Tito Colliander's book is available in weekly, digestible chunks.

Praying through Lent means making the time, offering the Lord all you are. He’s already given you all He Is.