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The Jesus Prayer

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Luke 18:13-14
Jesus spoke about a tax collector praying: "He stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, 'O God be merciful to me, a sinner.' He went home justified. Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted."

I often wear a bracelet given to me by a pastor friend. It's black and has thirty-three cloth beads. Like the Rosary, it's meant to mark and measure prayer - in this case, the Jesus Prayer. When I'm praying this way I feel a little like a metronome, or an orthodox Jew at the Wailing Wall, bowing back and forth and repeating the words over and over, thirty-three times.

Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

This prayer is not conversational. I stand off at a distance and do not even raise my eyes to heaven. But God's presence is not threatening; it is merciful. God's transcendence, which I am unable to nametag and slip into even one of my boxes, does not cause me to be afraid.

In fact, standing off at a distance like this, murmuring a rote prayer over and over, requires that I realize I'm not in charge. In the very action of prayer I am humbled. There is nothing clever for me to say, nothing insightful for me to think, nothing to bring ME into the center. I'm just praying.

How good it is to just pray.

How sweet it is to be loved by you, Father. Let me not be tempted toward any understanding that takes the place of my affection for you. The gratefulness you spark in my soul is the salt of my life. If that salt loses its saltiness, I am alone here and forget just how close you are. Open my eyes and ears and hear me cry my thanks.



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