“If we are not persons of prayer, our lives are meaningless,” says Pere Jacques in his seventh conference to the Carmelite nuns at the Carmelite monastery in Pontoise, France, in the early 1900s.

 

“Even God can do nothing with us, if we are not persons of prayer,” he says, adding, “In both the Church on earth and the Kingdom of Heaven, we are useless, unless we are persons of prayer.”

 

Given the violence and twisted thinking of so many people in the world today, it might be said that we have a duty to become persons of prayer. Our world — including our country, our State, our citizens and cities — needs our intercession and the wisdom and life-giving presence we can embody by drawing close to God and His saints.

 

“Persons of prayer” suggests a long-term, habitual practice of prayer, which seems easy at first when God is catering to our desire to experience progress in our relationship with Him. As with most human connections, that initial feeling of closeness to God naturally gives way over time to a more mature bond.

 

At least, it matures if we hang in there and keep praying. That’s not automatic. It requires perseverance and “a determined determination,” according to St. Teresa of Jesus.

 

Carmelite Father Cyril Guise of Holy Hill addresses a common prayer dilemma in his most recent newsletter to donors. I call it “common” because most everyone who prays finds themselves in such a spot sooner or later.

 

“I hear it from young and old, male and female,” Father Cyril says, “Inevitably, the person describes how they attend Mass regularly, pray daily, fight mightily against their weaknesses or special sin, but ... nothing. Might as well be talking to ourselves, or the wall.”

 

He notes how this stuck state can be discouraging when we trust our impressions and feelings of disconnectedness. Instead, we must remember our faith and learn from the testimonies of God’s faithfulness in all ages.

 

The late Carmelite Father Theodore Centalla was fond of telling those who were panicking in the midst of desert experiences, “Congratulations, you’ve been promoted!”

 

Those bone-dry struggles with being faithful to prayer can be powerful times of growth in helpful things like fortitude, wisdom and other gifts of the Holy Spirit — if we continue to pray as best as we can. 

 

That “as best as we can” may mean adjusting our prayer times and trying new ways to be with God. We might learn how to listen to God, setting aside some of our usual prayers to hold our hearts out, to open them to God, waiting without expectations as we recall his promised presence with us always.  

 

Prayer is a relationship that depends on our activities and on God’s. A lot of the dryness is rooted in our not understanding, or perhaps not quite trusting, what God is doing. But always He is contributing to our relationship with Him, holding up His end as we labor on through the desert or darkness.

 

We have feelings, of course, but we can’t rely on them.

 

St. Therese of Lisieux wrote of how she felt like a little ball whom the Child Jesus had placed on the shelf. She made herself trust that he would return. In the depth of Therese’s months of dark prayer, someone she knew had a dream. In the dream she knew Therese was behind a closed door. She wanted to open it. But God told her that Therese was not to be interrupted because He was busy making her beautiful.

 

Therese took comfort in her friend’s dream that so clearly shows that God cares and is working on/with/for us also — perhaps most effectively when we feel we’ve been put on a shelf.

 

Our lonely, angry, depressed world needs holy people. God can make us holy and useful if we cooperate and keep going. Our struggles are nothing new, and we are welcome to accept the inspiration and comfort offered by our saints.

 

Let’s not delay. Each of us is needed in this particular age of so much sin and strife, and so little prayer and Godly presence.