Last Saturday, I joined a dozen contemplatives for a Quiet Morning. When it was my turn to check in around the circle, I confessed my current and lifelong fear of scarcity. Thinking of my parents’ cost of care which had doubled in the last week, I said, “I know in my head that God is enough and will provide, but I’m anxious about spending large sums of money, even if it isn’t my own. I know this is an irrational fear, seeded a long time ago, and I wish I could get rid of it.”
After our sharing, we were invited to take some time with the Jesus Prayer. In the fifth century, building on the publican’s plea recorded in Luke’s gospel, the desert fathers and mothers began praying this simple prayer, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.” Inspired by those who sought to pray this prayer without ceasing, we were invited to hear these words or rephrase them in a way that captures the original intent: to receive God’s loving compassion and be released from what keeps us from being open to God and others.
In the company of trees and birds, I walked and waited for words to come that would help me pray and return to what’s true.
This is what I came up with. I like that God is named beloved and knows there were times when I didn’t get what I needed. The prayer also recognizes the many times God has supplied me with more than I hoped for or imagined. Finally, I ask for what I need: to rest in the reality that God is meeting all my needs and the desire to join God in using my resources to provide for those–human and non-human–who are in need.
O my Beloved,
You have sustained me in lack
and refreshed me with plenty.
May I rest in your provision
and rise and resource my neighbour.
As I began praying this prayer, another came to me. Pastor Ruth at St. Stephens often begins her prayers with “Holy and loving God.” Using her salutation here grounds me in community. The pairs of opposites acknowledge that we flow from one state to the other and that we need God to help us with what is out of our control and to see and receive new freedoms. “Seeking and finding” reminds me of Julian’s words, “I saw him and I lacked him.” It names the two postures of the contemplative: we are either seeking to be fully aware of our oneness in God and resting in being one–fully seen and fully loved. The triple “have mercy” grounds me again in a larger community: the cloud of witnesses who have prayed these words throughout the centuries. Finally, using “our” and “us” opens me to pray this prayer for others while I pray it for myself.
Holy and loving God,
in want and in wealth
in holding on and letting go.
in our seeking and our finding,
Christ, have mercy,
Lord, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy on us.
May my words begin a prayer of your own.
An Everyday Pilgrim 