I’ve been reading the book ‘Dirty Glory’ by Pete Greig recently. I haven’t finished yet, but so far I’d most certainly recommend it. It’s the follow-on to his previous book ‘Red Moon Rising’, and continues the story of his work as the founder of the 24-7 prayer network.
In a section titled ‘The Presence Paradigm’, I was particularly struck by his account of a conversation he had with Brennan Manning, priest and author of The Ragamuffin Gospel. Manning asked him “How do you know when you’ve prayed enough?”. Greig admitted that he didn’t really know, and that that sometimes led to feelings of guilt – if he didn’t know what enough was, then by implication he probably wasn’t doing it. I’ve been very struck by Brennan’s take on it:
"Let me tell you how we see prayer in the contemplative order. For us, the hour you might spend in the prayer room would be the one hour in the day when you don't pray.
It's like this; The hour you spend in the prayer room is when you refocus, re-centre on Jesus, becoming fully aware of his presence once again. When this happens, you can carry God's presence with you into the other twenty-three hours of the day, knowing all the time that He is with you, He is for you, He likes you and He hears your thoughts. You'll see the people and situations the way He sees them. When problems arise you'll pray in real time, right then and there instead of compiling prayer lists for a later holier moment. In fact your life will become that moment: a continual conversation with God."
Greig notes that this was a strange concept to someone who grew up in “a tradition that anchored prayer securely in an all-important daily devotional time”, and that echoed my response too. Whilst I have to admit that my devotional life is usually anything but daily, I realised that when I do manage to carve out space for a ‘quiet time’, I usually feel the need to fill it with words, either of praise or of petition. I don’t think I would ever want to fully abandon the practice of personal, quiet prayer, I was struck by Brennan’s ‘inversion’ – a devotional life which re-connects you with the Father to then enable a day-long conversation with Him, rather than ensuring that you’ve hit your required daily quota of prayer.
It turns out there’s something surprisingly freeing, but also very intimate, about just coming to God in the quiet without words, and without an agenda. I perhaps shouldn’t be surprised – our strongest and best earthly relationships are often with those we enjoy just spending time without without any specific purpose – the joy of the relationship is just in being with each other and experiencing together whatever might happen or crop up in the time you share.