What is a novena?

Q: Dear Father John, I have a question for your blog! I think I don’t really know what is a novena? How did it appear in the church and why? I know “neuvaine” means 9, but why 9 days before the feast/saint you are praying? Why would I  pray a novena…?

A: This question is right on time! One of the Church’s most popular novenas is the Novena to the Divine Mercy, which starts on Good Friday. Maybe a few thoughts regarding the issues you raise can help all of us live it more deeply. We’ll take your questions one at a time: What’s a novena? Where did novenas come from? Why would anyone pray a novena?

What is a novena?

A novena is a formalized vocal prayer extended over a specific amount of time. Remember, vocal prayer is the kind of prayer where we use other people’s words to address God and to lift our hearts and minds to him. The “Our Father” is a vocal prayer, for example. St. Francis of Assisi’s famous “Make me an instrument of your peace…” prayer is a vocal prayer. You don’t have to say these prayers out loud to make them “vocal,” rather, you just have to give “voice” to (“voice” and “vocal” both come from the same Latin root: voco, vocare, which means to speak out or to call) the words of the prayer. We can recite the words of a vocal prayer in the silence of our hearts, or audibly. In either case, however, vocal prayers give us a channel for the desires and thoughts of our souls.

When we use this kind of prayer, we align our minds and hearts with the meaning of the words, giving God praise, renewing our faith and trust, asking him for things we need or desire, or all of the above. A good vocal prayer helps us connect with God. It also reinforces our Christian convictions: by giving words to good desires and expressions of love for God, we actually exercise those desires and that love, and when we exercise them they grow.

A novena is a vocal prayer, or series of vocal prayers, that you commit to praying over an extended period of time. These prayers are usually linked to a specific devotion (for instance, devotion to a particular saint) or liturgical celebration (a novena for Pentecost, for example). They are also very often linked to a specific intention that we are praying for – you can offer a novena as a way to petition God for a special grace, like the healing of a sick person or the conversion of someone who is far away from God. The words of the novena will reflect all of these factors. They will remind you of the meaning of the liturgical celebration, the virtues of a saint, or the goodness of God. And the combination of prayers will also, usually, give you a place to insert your personal petition.

It’s important to remember, however, that novenas are not magic formulas. They are prayers. They are one way we can enter into conversation with God.

Where did novenas come from?

The most common period of time during which we pray novenas is nine days. The word “novena” actually comes from the Latin for “nine.” The nine-day period of prayer has its origin in the Book of Acts. After Jesus’ Ascension into heaven, the Apostles, the Blessed Virgin, and some of Christ’s other followers all “joined in continuous prayer” (Acts 1:14) for nine days, until the dramatic coming of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. We know it was nine days, because the Ascension happened forty days after the Resurrection (cf. Acts 1:3), and Pentecost was always celebrated fifty days after the Passover. The Resurrection happened the day following the Passover, so we can do the math: 50-40-1=9. This period in which the fledgling Church “joined in continuous prayer” in anticipation of the promised coming of the Holy Spirit is the first “novena.” Through the centuries, the strict period of nine days has taken various forms, including the nine First Fridays devotion recommended by our Lord to St, Margaret Mary and linked to the devotion to the Sacred Heart. Sometimes you even find local traditions of thirty-day or three-day “novenas.”

Why would anyone pray a novena?

In general, we pray novenas for the same reason that we pray at all: because God deserves our praise, and because we need his grace. Novenas are prayers, and all the benefits that prayer always brings are also brought by novenas. This particular form of prayer, however, has some special characteristics.

First, they provide a channel for strong spiritual sentiments or desires. Sometimes, our souls are so full of sorrow, or anxiety, or hope, or thirst for holiness that it is hard for us to find the words to express ourselves. Novenas give us a vehicle for prayerful expression. A novena of prayer can be a powerful way to mourn the loss of a loved one, for example – a novena of Masses can be a beautiful way to commend their soul to God’s mercy. In a crisis, a novena can channel our apprehension in a positive way: entrusting our deeply felt needs to God through the intercession of a saint, for example. Novenas put clear parameters around deep spiritual sentiments, enabling us to have confidence that we are keeping them in harmony with God and his will. In this way, they provide true comfort to our souls; they assure us that we are “doing our part,” so to speak, in response to particular needs of our own or of others.

Second, they help us stay in synch with our spiritual family, the Church. By joining in the Novena of the Divine Mercy (from Good Friday to Divine Mercy Sunday), for example, we unite ourselves to millions of other Catholics all over the world who are engaged in the same prayer. By praying a novena before a major liturgical celebration like Christmas or Pentecost, we can prepare our souls to engage in that celebration more fruitfully, less superficially.

I hope these observations have helped you understand a little bit better this long-standing devotion in the Church. And maybe it will even motivate you to try it out for yourself. I would like to invite our other readers to share their favorite novenas, along with any relevant experiences they may have had through praying them.

How do I know if God is talking to me in prayer?

Q: Dear Father John, I keep hearing (and reading) that Christian prayer is a conversation with God. But, to be totally honest, when I pray I don’t really hear God speaking to me. At least, how do I know it’s God and not just my own thoughts? Am I doing something wrong?

A: You are right: the phrase “conversation with God” describes Christian prayer beautifully. Christ has revealed that God is a real person, and that he is interested – passionately interested – in our lives, our friendship, our closeness. For Christians then, prayer, as Pope Benedict explained when he visited Yonkers, NY in 2007, is an expression of our “personal relationship with God.” And that relationship, the Holy Father went on to say, “is what matters most.”

Parameters of Faith

When we pray, God speaks to us in three ways. But to understand these three ways, we need a reminder. Our relationship with God is based on faith. Faith gives us access to knowledge that goes beyond what we can perceive by our senses. By faith, for example, we know that Christ is truly present in the Eucharist, even though our senses only perceive the appearances of bread and wine. Whenever a Christian prays, the prayer takes place within this atmosphere of faith. When I address God in vocal prayer, I know that he is listening to me, even if I don’t feel his presence with my senses or emotions. When I praise him, ask things of him, adore him, thank him, tell him I am sorry… In all these expressions of prayer, I know by faith (not necessarily by my senses or my feelings) that God is listening, interested, and that he cares. If we try to understand Christian prayer outside of this atmosphere of faith, we will get nowhere.

Keeping that in mind, we can look briefly at the three ways God speaks to us in prayer.

The Gift of Consolation

In the first place, God can speak to us by giving us what spiritual writers call consolation. Through consolation, he touches the soul and allows it to be comforted and strengthened by a felt awareness of his love, his presence, his goodness, his power, his beauty…

This consolation can flow directly from the meaning of the words of a vocal prayer. For instance, when I pray Blessed Cardinal Newman’s famous “Lead, Kindly Light..” prayer, God may boost my hope and my confidence, simply because the meaning of the words nourish and revitalize my awareness of God’s power and goodness.

The consolation can also flow from the reflection and pondering involved in mental prayer. As I read and reflect slowly, prayerfully on the parable of the Prodigal Son, for example, I can feel my soul being comforted by that picture of the Father embracing the repentant younger brother. That picture of God’s love comes to my mind, and gives me a renewed awareness of God’s mercy and his goodness: “God is so merciful!” I think to myself, and I feel the warmth of his mercy in my heart. That image and those ideas are mine, insofar as they arise in my mind, but they are from God, insofar as they arose in response to my consideration of God’s revelation, in an atmosphere of faith. Or, on another occasion, I could meditate on the same biblical passage and be moved to a deep experience of sorrow for my own sins: in the ungrateful rebellion of the Prodigal Son, I see an image of my own sins and rebellions, and I am repelled by them. Again, the idea of the ugliness of sin and the feeling of sorrow for my personal sins are my own ideas and feelings, but they are a response to God’s action in my mind as he guides my mind’s eye to perceive certain aspects of his truth while I listen to him speaking through his revealed Word in the Bible.

In any of these cases, my soul is touched anew, and thus nourished and consoled, by the truth of who God is for me, and who I am for him – a truth which God speaks to my soul. But the distinction between God’s speaking and my own ideas is not so clear as we would sometimes like. He actually speaks through the ideas that come as I turn my attention towards him in prayer. He speaks within my heart, within the words that form in my heart as I gaze at the Word.

Nourishing the Gifts of the Holy Spirit

In the second place, God can respond to us in prayer by increasing in our souls the gifts of the Holy Spirit: wisdom, knowledge, understanding, piety, fear of the Lord, fortitude, and counsel. Each of these gifts nourishes our spiritual muscles, so to speak; they build up our spiritual faculties. They make it easier for us to discover God’s will in our lives, to appreciate and want his will, and to carry out that will.  In short, they enhance our ability to believe, to hope, and to love God and neighbor. During a time of prayer, then, when I am addressing God in vocal prayer, or seeking to know him more deeply through mental prayer, or adoring him through liturgical prayer, God’s grace touches my soul, nourishing it through increasing the power of these gifts of the Holy Spirit.

Since these gifts are spiritual, and not material, and since God’s grace is spiritual, I will not always feel the nourishing take place. I may spend fifteen minutes reading and reflecting on the parable of the God Shepherd, and no consoling ideas or feelings are stirred up; my prayer feels dry. But that doesn’t mean that God’s grace is not nourishing my soul, that he is not strengthening within me the gifts of the Holy Spirit.

When I take vitamins (or eat broccoli), I don’t feel my muscles grow, but I know that those vitamins are indeed enabling that growth. Likewise, when we pray, we know we are entering into contact with God’s grace, with a God who loves us and is making us holy. When I don’t experience consolation, I can be certain that God is still working in my soul, strengthening it with his gifts by means of the spiritual vitamins that my soul takes in whenever I have faith-filled contact with God. But I only know this by faith, because God doesn’t always send sensible consolation with this spiritual nourishment. This is why spiritual growth depends so significantly on our perseverance in prayer, regardless of whether we feel consolation.

Direct Inspirations

Thirdly, God can speak to our souls through words, ideas, or inspirations that we recognize clearly as coming right from him. Personally, I have a vivid memory of the first time the thought of the priesthood came into my mind. I wasn’t even Catholic yet. No one had told me that I should become a priest. And yet, in the aftermath of a powerful spiritual experience, the thought simply appeared in my mind, fully formed, with compelling clarity. I knew without any doubt that the thought had come directly from God, that he had spoken to me directly, giving me an inspiration.

Most of us have had some, even if only a few, experiences like this, when we knew God was saying something specific to us, even though we heard the words only in our hearts, and not with our physical ears. God can speak in this way even when we are not at prayer. But a mature prayer life will make our souls more sensitive to these direct inspirations, and create more room for God to speak directly more often, if he wishes to do so.

Jesus assured us that any effort we make in prayer will bring grace into our souls, whether we feel it or not: “Seek, and you shall find; ask, and it shall be given to you; knock, and the door will be opened” (Matthew 7:7-8). But at the same time, we have to always remember that we must live our entire lives, including our prayer lives, in the light of our faith, not only in accordance with what we perceive and with what we feel. As St. Paul said so powerfully, “We walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7).

Catechism – Vocal Prayer – 2703

…God seeks worshippers in Spirit and in Truth, and consequently living prayer that rises from the depths of the soul. He also wants the external expression that associates the body with interior prayer, for it renders him that perfect homage which is his due.

Catechism – Vocal Prayer – 2702

The need to involve the senses in interior prayer corresponds to a requirement of our human nature. We are body and spirit, and we experience the need to translate our feelings externally. We must pray with our whole being to give all power possible to our supplication.

When is prayer not prayer at all?

Q: Dear Dan, I read your post about praying at the speed of light. I agree, however, one of the commentators seems to be attempting to dull the point that we must be attentive when we pray for it to be real prayer? They said that it is only our intent that matters. If our intent is all that matters, then what if we regularly intend to pray and be attentive to God but never or rarely are, in fact, attentive to God. Is this really prayer? I understand that God is a God of mercy and that he does take these things into account (our intent) and helps us but it seems to me that we should work hard to be attentive and to love him in practice, not just in our intent. If our intent doesn’t result in a change in our practice, then our intent is suspect – at least in my mind. What do you think?

A: Great question! Why don’t we let St. Teresa of Avila answer this for us? She was designated as a Doctor of the Church because of her profound life of holiness and her teachings on prayer and the interior life. What she has to say about this is very simple and straightforward:

Since vocal prayer is prayer, it must be accompanied by reflection. A prayer in which a person is not aware of whom he is speaking to, what he is asking, who it is who is asking and of whom, I do not call prayer; however much the lips move. Sometimes it will be so without this reflection provided that the soul has these reflections at other times. Nonetheless, anyone who has the habit of speaking before God’s majesty as though he were speaking to a slave, without being careful to see how he is speaking, but saying whatever comes to his head and whatever he has learned from saying at others times, in my opinion is not praying. Please God, may no Christian pray in this way. (Interior Castle 1:1)

Jesus also made a distinction between prayer that is not really prayer and worship that is not really worship, etc. We need to be careful not to seek to transform the “narrow path to life,” into a wide path to destruction.