How can I pray when I can’t even think straight?

Q: How do I pray when I am sick and can’t think? I feel as though my words are just going out into thin air and no one in heaven hears me. What words do I use and Who will listen?

A: This is a difficult question both to experience and to answer. I have suffered significant ongoing pain and discomfort, constant medication, multiple surgeries and related complications…

When I became a Christian more than fifteen years ago I did so in part because I recognized that apart from Christ, there is no good reason to continue to endure the suffering of this life. The idea that there was an ultimate reason for suffering brought me some comfort. This simple understanding was that my suffering was not in vain and that I would someday, have relief – permanent relief in the arms of Jesus. I didn’t have a specific answer to why I suffered as I did, but I understood from meditation on the scriptures that God was in control and that nothing comes to us that is not for our ultimate good (whether allowed by or caused by God). This meant that God was refining me, preparing me for the day when I would meet him face to face. This was enough for me then, and still brings me great comfort now. This scriptural promise from the book of Revelation in chapter twenty-one was particularly moving to me and is worthy of repeated reading and meditation by those who suffer:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,

See, the home of God is among mortals.

He will dwell with them as their God;

they will be his peoples,

and God himself will be with them;

he will wipe every tear from their eyes.

Death will be no more;

mourning and crying and pain will be no more,

for the first things have passed away.

I find great comfort in the knowledge that even if my suffering doesn’t subside in this life that it will be obliterated in the next. Not only that, but God himself will reach into my soul, cleanse me of the suffering that came through my own decisions, the suffering that came through circumstance and providence, and will himself comfort me in a way that will be absolutely loving, absolutely perfect and absolutely complete. This encouragement was compounded when I discovered another important promise from St. Paul in I Corinthians chapter 10:

No testing has overtaken you that is not common to everyone. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it.

And another in Philippians chapter four:

I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: everywhere and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

As I am writing this it strikes me that a few verses and commiseration may not be all that helpful. Still, if you meditate on them and participate in the life of grace, I have no doubt you will also find sufficient comfort to make it through just one day – or at least one day at a time. One more verse is in order regarding your specific question from Romans chapter eight:

Likewise the Spirit also helps our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. And he that searches the hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because he makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

When we cannot pray, we simply just say, “God I am here, and I need you.” We may not even use words. Our tears may be the only way to communicate with him. We rest in him knowing that he does hear us even when we don’t feel it and that he not only hears us, but that the Holy Spirit offers our deepest needs to our heavenly Father and that these are answered because they are His will.

Beyond meditation on these great truths, what can you specifically do? That all depends on how incapacitated you are. The key is to pray, participate in the sacraments, and seek help. It is important for you to talk to your parish priest or to search out a spiritual director or someone who is in an intimate relationship with Christ. They can help you come to better know the great God of comfort and maybe even gain an understanding of practical things you can do to fight your way through. To gain a better understanding on your own, Father Benedict Groeschel has written several good books on suffering that may also be of help. This one, Arise from Darkness: What to do when life doesn’t make sense might be particularly helpful to you. Aquinas and More bookstore also has a number of books on suffering. Just type the word “suffering” in the search line and you will likely find something that will help.

Never stop praying. Even if you just sit in silence and can say nothing, cry out to him in the simplest way and he will hear you. I know this is true, because he heard me, and rescued me from my distress… over and over again.

I suspect our readers who understand suffering might have a few ideas for you as well – at the very least I know that they will be praying for you. Be assured of my prayers.

Theology of suffering in song…

Advent is a season of hope…what if there is little reason for hope?

Q: Dear Father John, Advent is usually a season of hope. But what about when there is little reason for hope? When life is far from joyful, how can we experience the true joy and peace of the Advent season?  Our family has suffered many losses this year and even my children are despairing at what a bad year it has been. My husband and I are separated with little hope of reconciliation, we lost our family pets (both our dog and our cat) and have just been plagued with a series of sad events this past year. I am praying to be able to experience true joy and peace this Advent season but how can I overcome these personal sufferings? Just putting them aside for a time seems so false and futile. Any advice?

A: Before I answer your question, I want you to know – well, I want to remind you – that you are not alone in your sufferings.  You are absolutely right in shying away from “just putting your sufferings aside.”  Mature Christians are not Pollyannas.  We don’t pretend that life in this fallen world is supposed to be hunky-dory.  There is a reason that the Church requires every public place of worship to prominently display a crucifix over the altar: our journey home (to heaven) is a hard journey and during certain seasons of life, it gets really hard.  Nevertheless, you are not alone.  I am not making this up.  Jesus tells us this, inviting us to bank on his commitment to us: “In the world you will have hardship, but be courageous: I have conquered the world” (John 16:33).

I don’t know if you realized it, but you actually pose two different questions, one right after the other.  First you are wondering what to do when there is “little reason for hope.”  Second, you ask how we can experience Advent joy when “life is far from joyful.”  Maybe reflecting on the Christian meaning of both of these words, “hope” and “joy,” will help you find some light.

Basic Joy and Basic Hope

Joy is the experience of delight that comes from possession of something good.  The delight is deeper and longer lasting the more profound the “something good” is.  I experience joy when I eat a brownie, because it tastes good.  But the taste goes away when the brownie goes away – a very passing joy.  I experience joy when I win an Olympic gold medal, and that joy will last my whole life long, recurring whenever I think about it or hold the medal in my hands, because the victory was the result of a herculean effort, extended over a very long period of time.

Hope is the anticipation of joy, or embryonic joy.  When the game is coming to a close and it looks like we are going to win, we are full of hope; we are experiencing, in a sense, joy in advance.  Then, when the final whistle blows and the scoreboard shows us on top, hope blossoms into full-fledged joy, because the good thing, the victory, is finally ours.

A Key for Spiritual Maturity

One of the greatest challenges in the spiritual life is learning to live true Christian joy and hope.  We live on earth, in this fallen world.  And we have a fallen human nature.  As a result, we have a “default setting,” so to speak, that makes us seek our happiness in the good things of this world.  This could be in sensual pleasure, in popularity, in our achievements – these are extremely superficial goods.  But we can also seek our happiness in authentic goods: a healthy marriage and family, a good job that allows me to help build a better world, or a simple, balanced life-style that brings peace to me and those around me.  Because this is our default setting, we have a strong tendency to experience deep frustration when these worldly goods let us down.  We tend to think that we just need to make some kind of adjustment, and then happiness will be ours.

But there is a fundamental problem with this default setting: it is wrong.  The goods of this world, whether superficial or profound, will never, can never, provide the deep, lasting joy that our hearts yearn for, that we were made for.  Why?  I will let the Catechism (#27) answer:

The desire for God is written in the human heart, because man is created by God and for God; and God never ceases to draw man to himself. Only in God will he find the truth and happiness he never stops searching for…

Spiritual maturity, therefore, consists largely in learning to appreciate the goods of this world in a relative manner, as means to an end.  It means learning to desire God more and more, to “love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength” (Mark 12:30).

Advent’s Brand of Joy

From this perspective, we can begin approaching what “Advent” hope and joy really means.  The word “Advent” means “coming.”  The joy of Advent arises from our paying special attention to the fact that Jesus Christ came to earth two thousand years ago to conquer the powers of darkness and open the gates of heaven.  He came to forgive us our sins, to heal us, to forge a path to everlasting life for us.  This is an objective reality, an eternal good that we already possess through faith.  But we need to remind ourselves of this good, this truth.  We need to focus our attention on it, understand it, savor it, explore it, let it fill our hearts.  Only then will the deep joy –  a joy that no one can take from us, because no one can undo what Christ has done; the gates of heaven remain open! – of Advent begin to stir in our hearts.  This is one reason why the Church gives us the seasons of Advent and Christmas, to give us a chance and encourage us to meditate on this good that we already possess.

Advent’s Brand of Hope

The “hope” of Advent comes not from Christ’s first coming, but from his future coming.  Not only has Jesus come and conquered evil, reversing original sin and opening to us the gates of heaven, but he has also promised – truly promised – that he will come again.  And at his second coming, he will put an end to all injustice, sin, evil, and suffering: he will finish the story of salvation that was definitively begun with his first coming.  We know that as long as we keep alive our friendship with him, we are guaranteed a share in that final victory, a place in the everlasting Kingdom:

In my Father’s house there are many places to live in; otherwise I would have told you. I am going now to prepare a place for you, and after I have gone and prepared you a place, I shall return to take you to myself, so that you may be with me where I am (John 14:2-3).

We can count on that. No matter how horrible our sufferings here on earth may be, Jesus has promised us the fulfillment of all desire, if only we persevere in our friendship with him.  This is Advent hope; this is a reason for hope that nothing can change or take away.

A Way Forward

Now we are ready to approach an answer to your question.  I have to warn you that it may be hard for you to accept, but here it goes.  The painful, exhausting tribulations that God has permitted you to experience in recent months are, from a spiritual perspective, a golden opportunity.  You are now in the middle of experiencing how passing, how fragile, how undependable even the good things of this world really are.  The Holy Spirit is inviting you to, as you continue forward with your share of Christ’s cross weighing heavily on your shoulders, to life your gaze to the Star of Bethlehem, the Star that shines with an everlasting light, the North Star leading us through this valley of tears and towards our everlasting home.  Right now you are not distracted by the goods of this world, because God has revealed to you their weakness, their temporality.  Now is the perfect time for you to exercise your Advent hope, and to tap into the deeper, sturdier Advent joy.  Now, more than ever, you have a chance to go to an entirely new level in your Christian maturity.

How can you do that?  You must give more time to prayer (please look through some of our earlier posts for guidelines on prayer).  And I would also recommend that you give some extra time to spiritual reading.  Read about your fellow Christians who have also had to pass through dark and painful seasons in their journey home.  I especially recommend a couple of books by Cardinal Nguyen Van Thuan, the late Archbishop of Saigon who spent 14 years in communist prison and concentration camps: Road of Hope,  Five Loves and Two Fish (a very tiny book that packs a beautiful punch), and Testimony of Hope.

And remember, you are not alone.  I’ll finish with another quotation from our Lord: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You trust in God, trust also in me” (John 14:1).

Yours in Christ, Father John Bartunek, LC, ThD

A Reflection on All Souls and Our Souls

All Souls’ Day makes us mindful not only of the death of our dear ones but also of our own. Death is a punishment, bringing with it, of necessity, a feeling of pain, of fear, of uncertainty. The saints experienced it, and Jesus Himself willed to undergo it. Thus the Church puts before us passages from scripture most suited to encourage us:

“Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord… henceforth they rest from their labors, for their works follow them.”

The life of the body dies; the life of the spirit and the good deeds accomplished during life remain; these deeds alone accompany the soul in its journey from this life and render its death precious.

“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.”

This death has been justly defined “dies natalis” and the day of birth to eternal life. Would that our own death might be such! A dies natalis which would bring us into the beatific vision, bring us to birth in the indefectible love of heaven.

However, by inviting us to pray for the faithful departed, today’s liturgy reminds us that between death and eternal beatitude there is purgatory. Because our works do follow us, and not all of them are good works, or, even if they are good, they are full of faults and imperfections, it is necessary for the soul to be purified from every blemish before being admitted to the vision of God. And yet if we were perfectly faithful to grace, there would be no need for purgatory, for God purifies here below those who give themselves wholly to Him, who let themselves be fashioned and formed according to His good pleasure. Furthermore, purification accomplished on earth has the great advantage of being meritorious, that is, of increasing grace and charity in us, thus permitting us to love God more for all eternity; whereas in purgatory, one suffers without growing in charity. That is why we should desire to be purified during life. But let us have no illusions: even on earth total purification entails great suffering. If now we are not generous in suffering, if here on earth we do not know how to accept suffering, pure and unmitigated, as Jesus did on the Cross, our purification will of necessity have to be completed in purgatory.

May the thought of that place of expiation rouse our zeal to pray for the souls of the departed, and may it also make us more courageous in embracing suffering in reparation for our own faults.

Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, O.C.D., Divine Intimacy

Redemptive suffering and abuse

Q: Dear Father Edward, does the idea of redemptive suffering apply only to physical suffering or does it also extend to submission to emotional/mental/spiritual suffering that comes from an abusive relationship? If I am the target of regular mistreatment by my husband and I offer it up, is this the same as redemptive suffering?

A: Dear friend, it sounds like your situation is very challenging. I will do my best to answer your question and I will pray for peace and resolution for you and your family. I would also like to ask all of our readers to join in prayer for you and all those who find themselves in these very painful situations.

The concept of redemptive suffering can certainly apply to suffering that is emotional, mental or spiritual. Each of us is a unity of body and soul, and suffering of the soul is every bit as real as physical suffering — sometimes more so. Emotional suffering includes situations like having to watch a loved one struggle with a terminal illness. Mental suffering can include cases of chronic depression. Spiritual suffering could include the “dark night of the soul,” where a devout person has a deep sense of loneliness or desolation, to the point of feeling abandoned by God. (In this last case the Almighty is actually purifying the soul.)

Quite separate from these is the case that involves emotional/mental/spiritual suffering in an abusive relationship.  An abusive relationship is unhealthy both for the one being abused, and also for the one who is abusing.  Therefore, the truly loving thing to do is to find a way to end the abuse.  This may involve seeking psychological or pastoral help for yourself and, if possible, for your husband. The abuse indicates that he likely has deep-seated issues that need attention and healing. Moreover, your own psychic (and physical) health faces risks from long-term exposure to abuse. Thus, a wife owes it to herself and her family to seek outside help.  In the meantime, you should also do what you can to remove yourself and your children from harm’s way.

The Church is actually quite clear about this. The Code of Canon Law in No. 1153 §1 states

A spouse who occasions grave danger of soul or body to the other or to the children, or otherwise makes the common life unduly difficult, provides the other spouse with a reason to leave, either by a decree of the local Ordinary or, if there is danger in delay, even on his or her own authority.”  Regular  mistreatment is a violation of justice and charity; it is a wrong that should be resisted and, with the help of God’s grace, righted.

Do not think that this course of action is some kind of spiritual cop out.  Taking steps to protect yourself and your family from current abuse, and actively seeking ways to help resolve the underlying causes of your husband’s behavior are not easy tasks.  They will be painful on many levels, and that suffering – the internal suffering caused by the challenge of trying to right this wrong – will indeed be redemptive, as you unite it through prayer and the sacraments to Christ’s own suffering on the cross.

Yours in Christ, Father Edward McIlmail, LC

Father McIlmail is a theology instructor at Mater Ecclesiae College in Greenville, RI.