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Cover
story Prayer after the calamity
By RICH HEFFERN
In the past two weeks, both the deep
meaning and the fragility of our daily life have been brought to our attention
in the harshest manner. As the symbols of American commerce and might lay in
smoking ruins two weeks ago, shocked disbelief was followed by feelings of
fear, sorrow, grief and rage.
Many flocked to churches, prayer services and vigils to find
solace for pain and confusion. As Americans absorbed the madness of terror, we
sat next to makeshift altars bearing candles, photos and flags. We took it
personally. We sent reminders of our love to our loved ones. We asked: Can we
make sense of it? What should we pray for? Where is God in all this?
While many rushed to do something, others retreated within -- or
did both. Were an extroverted country, yet it seemed that reliving those
moments over and over again when we witnessed the death of thousands of fellow
Americans couldnt help but impel us to reflection.
As people of faith, we felt challenged at the deepest levels by
events.
This tragedy has literally brought us to our knees, said a
priest friend of mine, and he is correct, wrote Gregory Pierce on his
Spirituality at Work Web site. The question we must all face is what do
we do when we get back up.
NCR talked to people around the country about how they were
praying in these days after calamity.
Steven Picha is director of the Center for Action and
Contemplation in Albuquerque, N.M. In the midst of one of its internship
programs on Sept. 11, the center gathered to pray in the turmoil. Since
then I think weve all been going often to that silent, still space
within, where we can just sit and be with the gnawing inner tension, the
unknowing, Picha said. We are bringing everything to prayer now,
our feelings together with candles and flags. We dont know what will come
of this. We cant fix everything right now; we cant find the exactly
correct thing to do that will turn this around. We cant even get the
grief to go away quickly. But we can spend time nurturing an emerging wisdom we
will be needing in the days ahead. That means patiently enduring and waiting
with the tension and discomfort. We have to be there, listening for that voice
from God, that whisper that always comes.
In the days after the attacks on the World Trade Center and the
Pentagon, the center held a prayer vigil in solidarity with the millions of
victims of violence and hatred in the world. Picha said: We offer
contemplation as a third way. Its not fight and its not flight. Dom
Hélder Câmara, the Brazilian prelate, said: When I feed the
hungry, I am called a saint. Yet when I ask why they are hungry, I am called a
communist. Now we may be called unpatriotic when we ask questions about
why people hate us so much, but its necessary. Thats why we have to
be working out of that ongoing inner centering prayer, even when we are too
busy to pray.
Patricia Livingston, author, retreat leader and national speaker
on prayer and spirituality, in the midst of leading a sabbatical group at
Catholic Theological Union in Chicago, told NCR: While leading a
day of reflection yesterday on the paschal mystery, I realized how much our
primal Christian images illumine this tragedy. The paschal mystery, of course,
is that God is with us in our dying and rising. Another primal image lies in
the story of the road to Emmaus: Jesus disciples, shattered and shocked
after the crucifixion -- for them a display of the power of death. They
grieved, and yet they didnt see the risen Jesus right in their midst
breaking the bread. They didnt yet have those resurrection eyes.
Many react by running around trying to do something. My
husband is an action type. Hes been busy with his job, which actually
connects him with the nations priorities. He works on software for
anti-terrorism programs. When he asked me where I go to deal with this event, I
told him that it is to that dark, silent place within, my inner sanctuary.
Its always been there, of course, but I first located it long ago when I
had a stillborn child. People who have suffered know that place. Terrible
events come to us all, those cycles when the grain of wheat falls to the barren
ground. Many young people are probably going there now for the first time. And
on first arrival, its frightening, unsettling. It doesnt feel like
home, she said.
The mystery at the heart of our Christian religion says:
Dying and rising in life leads to seeing things with resurrection eyes. We
cower like the disciples in the Upper Room did and then a voice comes and says
Peace to you. All who suffer know that when there has been an
attack on the tall towers of your being, that not only did rebuilding occur,
but that process was filled with love and hope. It will happen again and
again.
Ive noticed unusual courtesy from flight attendants
and other passengers, Livingston said. A telemarketer the other day
asked me if my family was OK. The forces of creation are at work, even in these
sad days.
Gertrud Mueller Nelson is a liturgist and artist who lives and
works in San Diego. Her image of the World Trade Center Towers replaced by lit
vigil candles illustrated our editorial page last week. When I have no
words, I draw, she told NCR. I make an altar and put things
there that need to be brought before God. A woman came into the church where I
work the day after the tragedy. A musician, she needed to play her guts out on
the piano. You do something that comes out of who you are, then you go out and
give blood or money or take your shovel to where the work needs to be done. You
use e-mail to teach peace, question our motives, share stories, to beg people
to ask the right questions, to have patience.
Nelson celebrated the Sept. 17 feast of St. Hildegard of Bingen,
mystic and visionary, by drawing an icon of Hildegards vision of
wholeness at the heart of the universe, and spreading it across the Internet.
I feel like we stand on the brink of a whole new world. We are stepping
off into it and can depend only on Gods grace. I think often of W. H.
Audens famous poem, September 1, 1939, written on the eve of
World War II. Its been a solace. Audens vivid images of towering
buildings groping the sky, of children afraid of the night and lost in a
haunted wood leads to his conclusion: We must love one another or
die.
Philip St. Romain is on the staff of the Heartland Center for
Spirituality at Great Bend, Kan., and the author of 17 books on prayer and
spirituality. He told NCR: My prayer these days has been filled
with images from the television. When they come up, I entrust them to
Gods care. Prayer, meditation, contemplation, all of these treasures from
the Catholic spiritual tradition, help us to get to a place deeper than fear. I
dont have a problem with the flag being present for Christian gatherings.
If its given more significance than that, then theres a problem but
for now, to me, it signifies that we are taking our country to God and asking
Gods blessing, mercy and grace.
Trappist Fr. James Behrens told NCR that his community in
Conyers, Ga., prayed in pain. We prayed from a numbing sense of loss,
from fear. Perhaps we prayed from that place called Gethsemani, a place where
Jesus prayed and no answer was forthcoming. God calls us to respond to these
days of profound loss with the kind of hope that can only be seen beyond
Gethsemani, to the light that is God in our world.
Loretto Sr. Mary Ann McGivern, coordinator for Community
Networking for Peace, Justice, Mercy and Compassion, put these tips for action
and for prayer up on her communitys Web site: Keep asking what a
loving response to terrorism would look like. Keep insisting that we not kill
more civilians. Listen to one another. Allow our hearts to bleed. Take
political action. Call Congress. Say no to war, to blind retaliation. Say no to
terrorism and say yes to compassion, justice and peace.
In a statement from the presidents of the Conference of Major
Superiors of Men and the Leadership Conference of Women Religious in response
to the terrorist attacks, St. Joseph Sr. Kathleen Pruitt and Franciscan Fr.
Canice Connors wrote: We are united in our fear, sorrow and
vulnerability. We must also be united in our efforts to end terrorism and
violence. We are equally united in efforts to renew and sustain right
relationships grounded in mutual respect. Justice for all people is the sure
foundation for peace. This is not the responsibility of national leaders alone;
it is the responsibility of each person of faith, regardless of ethnic
background, national heritage and way of life.
In the days and months ahead, we will continue to pray in the wake
of this great calamity.
Jesus, when asked to comment on a Galilean disaster (Luke 13:4-5)
in which a tower fell on 18 people killing them, said rather sharply: Do
you imagine they must have been more guilty than all the other people living in
Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all come to an end
like theirs. Scripture scholars explain that repentance here means the
conversion of heart that comes with faith and prayer.
Theres good spiritual precedent for reflecting and
assessing in any time of great sorrow, said Fredericka Methewes-Green.
The Hebrew scriptures show a consistent pattern: A devastating loss was a
signal to repent, turn and change. That didnt mean the enemy was
right or God liked them better, only that it was time to learn a
hard lesson in the spiritual life.
In the midst of tragedy perhaps the real balm we seek in our
prayer is that kind of conversion, the age-old spiritual task of replacing
stony hearts with a heart of flesh. n
Rich Heffern is NCR opinion editor.
National Catholic Reporter, September 28,
2001
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