2nd Sunday of Lent (B) – February 25, 2024
St. Paul – Lyons, KS
Genesis 22:1-2, 9a, 10-13, 15-16; Psalm 116:10, 15, 16-19; Romans 8:31b-24; Mark 9:2-10
GET ALL MATERIALS FOR “RECONNECTING…” INCLUDING HOMILY HANDOUTS, DEEPER DIVE VIDEOS, AND DISCUSSION GUIDES HERE.
The Silence and Our Heart
At this point of “Reconnecting…”, two things are important: silence and the heart. Like we were talking about last week, silence is the secret sauce for the experience of true prayer. Silence is the great amplifier, the magnifier. In silence, “sheer silence,” Elijah says, God speaks. That’s what the “desert” of Lent is meant to foster: a reverent silence so that we can encounter God.
So silence is one element. The other element is the heart. When we think of our prayer, again, we can easily think of “saying prayers.” And yeah, these can be helpful tools! I’m going to teach you one today, actually. But the most important part is that the heart must be engaged. According to Scripture, it is the heart that prays. But what does that mean?
When we talk about the prayer of the heart—the “heart” isn’t referring to some touchy-feely something. The heart—it’s just you. The core of your being. The heart is everything that makes you you. And so this prayer of the heart—this is what we need to dive into today. First, we want to situate this in its proper context. In other words, what does this have to do with Jesus? The second thing is what is this prayer of the heart? And finally, how? How can I foster this prayer of the heart?
The Context: Jesus and Mercy
So what does this have to do with Jesus? Do you remember me telling you about the movie Saving Private Ryan? Again, not a kids’ movie; pretty brutal opening scene. For those of you who have never seen it, Saving Private Ryan is a movie about a man and his three brothers who are all fighting in World War II. As the movie gets going, we discover that the three brothers of this man have all been killed in action; and their mother has received a letter about each one. And when the War Department figures this out, they send off a rag-tag group of soldiers to find the one remaining brother. This group is sent to find Private James Ryan, to save him, to rescue him.
Spoiler alert: they find him and they rescue him. But what’s the cost? Over half of these men die, including their captain, Captain James Miller. And as Captain Miller in dying, lying on a bridge, he tells Private Ryan: “Earn this.” In other words, “Don’t waste our sacrifice for you.” And then the movie fades to a scene, decades later. And Ryan is now an old man at the cemetery in Normandy, at the grave of Captain Miller, this man who laid down his life so that he might live, this man that had made it possible for him to have his wife and children and grandchildren there with him. Ryan’s life was changed that day on the bridge, by the sacrifice of this man before him! And as he’s standing there at the grave he says this: “Every day I think about what you said to me that day on the bridge. And I’ve tried to live my life the best that I could.” In other words, he was saying that he responded to the sacrifice of this man—he responded with his whole life, with everything.
Why do I tell you this again? Because we have got to put ourselves in this mindset from the get-go! So often, we come to church, to Mass, sit down to pray—and we forget who we’re talking to, what the context is. Think about it: what is your image for Jesus, for the Lord, in your mind? Old man, big white beard? Middle-aged man, looks like Jonathan Roumie from The Chosen? Jim Caviezel? But more importantly, who is it? An ethereal “God,” someone in the clouds, the person telling you a bunch of rules you’re supposed to follow? Or is it the one who has saved you, rescued you? Do you turn to the Lord in prayer and recognize: “I owe you my life. The only reason I exist, that my life has any purpose, is due to your sacrifice”?
But also notice: just like Captain Miller, Jesus doesn’t just rescue us. Jesus gives us himself, he lays down his life for us. He literally lays down his life, gives everything. This is what our readings are all about today. In our first reading, Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice Isaac is a powerful pre-figuration of God the Father to both send and sacrifice his own Beloved Son. In Romans, Paul pointed out, “[The Father] did not spare his own Son but handed him over for us.”
Jesus gives himself totally, holds nothing back! In Latin (and Spanish), there is a word for this. The word is misericordia. Three words: miser-cor-dare—it means, literally, “to give (dar) one’s heart (cordia) to the poor (miser).” In English we say, “Mercy.” In giving us Jesus, the Father is giving us mercy. He is giving us everything, holding nothing back. Jesus gives us everything, he doesn’t hold anything back. On the cross, the sacrifice of the cross—which is made present in the Mass—Jesus gives his heart to the poor, to us. Did you know, in every Eucharistic miracle, every time the Eucharist has miraculously changed into flesh—when doctors examine it, the tissue is always heart tissue? Did you know that? True story. But look: in the Mass, the making present of Jesus sacrifice on the cross, the Eucharist isn’t just a nice remembrance of him: it is his heart. He gives us everything, he gives us his heart. And why? Because that’s what we need. We need him, Jesus—we need God to save us, to rescue us. Misericordia. That is what we need.
So this is the context of everything! Jesus is the one to whom we owe our life, he rescues us; and he is the one who gives us everything, his heart, shows us mercy. Friends, if this is not the starting point—if “God” and “Jesus” are something else—if this is about rules and checking boxes—if we’re just trying to figure out ways to get God to do things for us—we’ve missed it. And “prayer” is going to be a really strange thing. So we have to begin from here.
Prayer of the Heart
Cool beans. So what does this have to do with the prayer of the heart? Again, go back to Private Ryan. After this man has laid down his life for him, saved him, Ryan has a choice to make. On the one hand, he can say, “Thanks!” and keep living his life however he wants. Or, Ryan can recognize that he owes his life to this man, and so respond with his whole life in return. And that’s what he does: his entire life becomes a response. In Scriptural language, we would say, “He responded from his heart.”
This is the key. In the book of Isaiah, in a passage Jesus himself quotes, the Lord says, “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (Isaiah 29:13). “Saying prayers” isn’t the goal if our hearts remain far away, uninvolved. The key (listen)—the key to the experience of true prayer—God has already done his part, God’s work is there, our part is to respond—the key to the experience of true prayer is to respond to the Lord with our whole heart, to give my life back to him in response, to surrender my life into his hand, to entrust my heart to him.
The Private Ryan analogy is going to break down, so let me ask it this way: how do you envision your relationship with God? Most of us, if we’re honest, see it as very, very transactional: you do this for God, he should do something for you. But that’s not what’s going on. The analogy Scripture uses is marriage; God’s relationship with his people, with us—marriage is the image. In the Catholic marriage ritual, there is this very beautiful part when couple receives what’s called the Nuptial Blessing. And in that blessing, we ask God to bless the man so that “[he may] entrust his heart to [his wife].” In marriage, entrusting one’s heart, each to the other is the key.
The Prayer of the Heart can sound like some touchy-feely something. But really, it’s just clarifying that “prayer” isn’t some transaction any more than marriage is a transaction. It’s about living and abiding in a covenantal relationship. The prayer of the heart is about entrusting our heart, our life to Jesus Christ. True prayer of the heart means that I’m not only recognizing that I owe God my life, or that God has given me his heart; it’s also that I am entrusting my heart, my life to him in return. If we are just using God—that’s not the prayer of the heart, it’s just using him. To enter into this prayer of the heart—it’s about handing my life over to him.
Why is this a struggle? Shouldn’t this be easy? We all want a deeper relationship with God, right? We all want to be closer to God, yeah? So why is it so hard? The example I can give you is the example of my own life: I had my own hopes and plans and dreams for how I wanted my life to go—I’ve shared this many times: doctor, wife, big Catholic family, beautiful. Even now, as a priest, I have hopes and plans and dreams for how I want my life to go. But this is why it is so difficult to have a deeper relationship with God—listen—we get very caught up in the Ego Drama. What do I mean? A very famous theologian pointed out this distinction between the Ego Drama and the Theo Drama. As humans, we are prone to get caught up in the Ego Drama: my life is a play or movie that I write, that I produce, direct, and (above all) star in! My life is about me! Life itself revolves around me! All of you are just play-actors in the drama of me. But as the theologian pointed out, “No, there is only one drama. And that is the Theo Drama, the God Drama.” God is the writer, the author, the producer, the director, the star. And we—you, me—we are invited into that. But it is easy to reject that; it is the original sin, which isn’t very original. I went to a funeral once—saddest funeral of my life. The family, as their last farewell to their husband and father, played the song by Frank Sinatra, “I Did It My Way.” And it was sad because that song is all about living life completely in the Ego Drama. And that’s a sad road. Because it’s a dead end. Literally.
The prayer of the heart—this is when I stop trying to coerce God to act according to the plans of my own ego, and instead recognize that I am part of the Theo Drama, that he is God and I am not, and I entrust my life, my heart to him—come what may. Humility, trust, perseverance: that’s the key. Private Ryan recognized his life was no longer his own: and it changed everything. I think most of us want to be closer to God, have a deeper relationship with him—who doesn’t! But I also think that most of us get caught up at the level of trying to honor God “with our lips,” while still trying to hold back out heart, our life. But we have to give everything.
How can I foster the prayer of the heart?
So how? How do I foster this prayer of the heart? The prayer of the heart is what every part of our faith is mean to foster. So in. a certain sense, if you want to grow in the prayer of the heart—it’s like Jesus’ chat with the Rich Young Man, “Well, do you follow the commandments?” Do you go to Mass every Sunday? Are you going to Confession regularly? So like I said, maybe if you’re not losing weight, it’s because you eat McDonalds three times a day. So don’t neglect the easy stuff, the low hanging fruit. But in terms of your own personal prayer, your practice of prayer—one concrete suggestion to help continue to foster this is called the Jesus Prayer.
The Jesus Prayer is a very simple, but very powerful practice. The words are, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” And to pray it, as you inhale, you say, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God.” And as you exhale, you say, “have mercy on me, a sinner.” And then you simply breath and pray, slowly and reverently and attentively. And you just sit and pray this for 15, 20, 30 minutes—just like you would the Rosary. People often pray this prayer with a prayer rope, very similar to the Rosary.
Why is this prayer so powerful, though? Because it helps us embody two things. The first is St. Paul’s command in first Thessalonians to “pray always,” “to pray without ceasing” (1 Thes. 5:17). When you train even your breath to be prayer, unceasing prayer is easy. But second, it also keeps us in the correct posture at all times: Jesus is God (not me), and from him I seek not money or power or fame or my dream (the ego drama). No from Jesus I seek mercy—misericordia—I ask him to continue to give me his heart. We don’t pray to reduce our stress, or strengthen our immune system, or lose weight, or add years to our life—pray so that we can live our Ego Drama even better, no. We enter prayer to receive his heart—mercy, misericordia—so that we can give him our heart, our life as well. And that’s what prayer at all times, this prayer in particular helps us to foster: my life, my heart, everything (even my breath)—it’s the Lord’s.
Today at Mass, when we get to the part where I say, “Lift up your hearts”—and every time from now on—remember that this is the cue to enter the prayer of the heart. And notice the prayer today that follows it, speaking about this scene in our Gospel of the Transfiguration, it says, “the Passion leads to the glory of the Resurrection.” It’s not our Ego Drama that leads to the Resurrection. It is the Way of the Cross, recklessly entrusting our whole heart, our whole life to the Father like Christ did. Why? Because as Jesus shows, this is the path to glory. “I did it my way,” leads to nothing. “I entrusted my heart, my life to Christ,” leads to everything.