Praying with the Daily Office
Guest Writer: Trent Palmer
"It is a significant act of spiritual growth when we accept responsibility for our spiritual life."— Michelle Hayne ~ In Your Holy Spirit.
"Spiritual Disciplines in themselves have no power to heal and transform; they are merely what keeps the doors of our hearts open to God's power, which does the healing and transforming." —K. Killian Noe ~ Finding Your Way Home.
"Pray as you can."—Jean Gill ~ Pray as You Can.
"Just speak your truth."—Trent Palmer
I was a little hesitant when first asked to write an article on praying the Daily Office. This spiritual practice has been so important to me over the past several years, but lately, it had begun to feel lifeless and rote. How could I write with any authenticity on something I struggled with myself? I sat with this request for a day or two and then thought, why not? Isn't struggle and being lost part of the spiritual journey too? This timely request confirmed my suspicion that the Holy Spirit has a rather mischievous and yet purposeful sense of humor.
I have prayed some part of The Daily Office from The Book of Common Prayer for seven years now, and this practice has become the cornerstone of my spiritual life. It started when I was a first-year student in the Education for Ministry program here at St. Paul's. Early on in the course, the curriculum invited me to craft my own Rule of Life, including weekly Eucharist, daily prayer, regular acts of service, study, and community. I had never heard of a "Rule of Life" before and was intrigued! It sounded very monastic, and I've always imagined myself somewhat of a closet monk. As I read more about this spiritual assignment, I came to sense that this kind of rule wasn't overly legalistic, as some might expect from the title, but was quite graceful. It seemed to hold out before me a way of living life that might bring spiritual balance and help keep the door of my heart open to God (to borrow Killian Noe's fine phrase).
It was also at this point that Fr. Lowell Grisham, my Priest at the time, sent out a request asking for volunteers to help lead Evening Prayer at St. Paul's on weeknights. When those interested gathered one night for some instruction, Lowell let us know upfront that Evening Prayer is typically an intimate affair with just a handful of in-person participants at most (sometimes just the leader). But he went on to add that even if it is you alone there in the Chancel, praying the Daily Office is always a communal affair. When we ring the church bell before Evening Prayer, we remember that there is always a more extensive community out there praying with us. After thinking over Lowell's request, I realized that this was precisely what I had been looking and longing for – a tangible, weekly commitment around which I could form a daily practice of prayer using The Daily Office and The Book of Common Prayer.
Out of this simple commitment, grew a daily habit of praying Morning Prayer, reading the Daily Office lectionary passages, contemplating a page or two from a spiritual text (Yes, And… by Richard Rohr for the longest time), and spending some time journaling. I also kept a little card tucked in my Book of Common Prayer, where I listed people for whom I was praying. I found this all to be a kind of Divine therapy, and began to trust the nudges and inclinations to sit with a thought, a prayer, a line of scripture, a worry, or even a recent dream. This contemplative way of praying seemed to guide me in surprising and life-giving directions.
Then came Covid-19, which made it impossible for the little community that had begun to form around Monday Evening Prayer, or any of the Daily Office offerings, to continue to meet in person. This also meant that none (or very few) of us would be able to meet in person as we had for Sunday Morning Worship. As the isolating reality of the pandemic began to sink in, it dawned on me how meaningful it might be to do my little part to ensure that the Daily Office was available online. I realized that this could offer a significant way for people to stay connected to St. Paul's and could serve as a lifeline during this period of physical isolation. Fr. Evan Garner, my current Priest, was thinking the same thing, so at his invitation, I started showing up on weekday mornings to film and post Mary Miller reading Morning Prayer on Facebook Live. Mary had confessed her technological insecurities, but expressed her desire to continue leading Morning Prayer if someone would agree to film her. I was her man!
We also gathered a little band of volunteers to continue leading Evening Prayer on weeknights and post it to Facebook Live. So, for months praying Morning Prayer with Mary Miller and Monday Evening Prayer became for me a connection to St. Paul's and to this monastic practice that had become so central to my faith. However, as the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, it became easier to let simply reading Morning and Evening Prayer become my prayer life and let go of the journaling and the intimate time alone following the guiding movement of the Spirit. Slowly my prayer life began to feel lifeless, and I recognized that I was spiritually adrift and that something was missing.
I am now coming to believe that my awareness that I have strayed is evidence that there is One seeking me out and calling me back. This writing assignment and my Education for Ministry community, and our discernment process, helped me realize what was missing.
I have picked up again the little practices that somehow transform reading the Daily Office into a living and prayerful encounter. . . sitting in silence, spiritual reading, journaling, and praying intentionally for others. For me, this is the rhythm and routine that seems to keep my prayer life and my relationship with God a living one. I have learned over time to let the words speak to me and move my thoughts, imagination, dreams, and desires in ways that fill me with wonder and delight. I have to laugh at myself, though, and gracefully remember that losing our way is part of the journey of faith, too, as scripture so repetitively reminds us! In her book, The Wisdom Jesus, Cynthia Bourgeault recounts a conversation between Father Thomas Keating and a nun in Centering Prayer's workshops. "Oh, Father Thomas," she said, "I'm such a failure at this prayer. In twenty minutes, I've had ten thousand distracting thoughts." "How lovely," Father Keating responded. "Ten thousand opportunities to return to God."
I am so grateful for Father Keating's words here, and for his reminder of how important it is to keep GRACE at the heart of our spiritual practices and our journey with God.
The Book of Common Prayer puts it this way in a Collect from the fifth Sunday in Lent (Rite Two):
"Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly wills and affections of sinners: Grant your people grace to love what you command and desire what you promise; that, among the swift and varied changes of the world, our hearts may surely there be fixed where true joys are to be found: through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen."
Trent Palmer