Harold Koenig is a former Episcopalian clergyman, now a third order Dominican, a Divine Office enthusiast, and a Facebook friend of mine. He's done guest posts here once or twice before, and now we are blessed with another. Three actually. Today we get part I. It's the fruit of his meditations on a favorite verse of Scripture: Psalm 81 vs. 7, which by happy coincidence appears in the Psalter this morning.
Note:The translation Harold uses is a bit different from what most of our breviaries use, but it's close enough for you to appreciate what he says about it. The Revised Grail Psalms that we'll all be using eventually (when the new breviary translation is published) also use "basket" rather than "load".
I
hear a tongue I do not know: I relieved Israel’s shoulder of its burden; they
set down the basket.
–
after Ps. 81:7
Part I: I hear
All good giving, every
perfect gift is from above. The
intention to pray is good; the decision to pray now is a gift. We address God
because he addressed us first. An infant roots for the breast when its cheek is
touched. God has touched us, so we seek
him. He is first mover; his voice summons ours
Our prayers are not perfect, because even when
we’ve learned how to negotiate our breviaries, there is still the wandering
mind, the diversion of thought and attention to anything but the words before
us. We do not know how to pray as we
ought. Can anyone doubt this? Therefore rejoice, because the Spirit prays in
us, in sighs too deep for words.
So, in the quiet act of praying the office,
lips moving silently, finger gliding down the page, there is a mystery. We speak because we are spoken to; we utter
that we may hear. As the eyes of servants look to the hand of their masters, as
maids are alert to the hand of the mistress, so we attend to the word which
evokes our words.
We lose focus. Of course, when we notice, we
should bring ourselves back to this work of God. But as our prayers come from him, we cannot
justly allow ourselves to be too distraught when we stray. After all, it is God who speaks, and his Word
stands forever. It may be so in the
world’s eyes and our own that “hearing, we do not hear.” But he means to make
himself known to us, and to spend too much effort and anxiety on the poverty of
our efforts is just another distraction from our task which is to listen to our
beloved who loves us.
Perhaps then we should trust that, though we do
not now feel as if we were listening, much less hearing, yet he who made the
ear knows what he is about. In the
depths, there where the Spirit sighs, there is a seed of hearing being
planted. And as Creation itself groans
as in childbirth, so that seed will grow and come to term in us, to be brought
forth at the proper time.
Next time: a tongue I do not know
