Chapter 6
Unanswered Prayer
If distractions and the feeling that our prayers are no use make up the chief test of our prayer, there are other things as well that come in to add to its difficulty and show its quality. These mostly have to do with the prayer of petition and how it fits in with the plan of God. As we have already seen, God wants us to ask for what we want and to go on asking. Well, the first problem is: Why? He knows what we want; He knows what we are going to ask for; He knows whether He is going to grant our request or refuse it. So why do we have to make prayers of petition? Much simpler not to bother.
But it is not always laziness that is at the back of this objection. Sometimes it is a mistaken kind of virtue. It is the trust-to-luck state of mind that disguises itself as pure faith. Put into words, it comes out something like this: “God in His wisdom has known from all eternity what is best for me. I trust in His providence. It would show a lack of faith on my part, and also a lack of generosity, if I trusted in my own judgment and prayed for my own intention. Surely it is more perfect not to pray for anything but to leave it all to God.” This would be to make a great mistake, and would show a complete misunderstanding of both prayer and the nature of God’s providence. So we must look at it closely and try to see how the prayer of petition works. If we do not grasp the truth of it, we shall have a first-class excuse for never saying any prayers at all.
For explanation, let us get back once again to the idea of the fatherhood of God. God has certain things in store for us which He knows we need and which He means to give us. But He means to give them only on condition that we ask for them. So he fills our minds with a desire for these things and gives us the grace to turn our desire into a prayer for them. A human father does much the same in dealing with his children. “I’ll take them out for a day on the river,” he says to himself, “but they must come and ask me for it.” Then he talks about rivers and boats, and the children come clamoring to be taken out for the day. But, of course, if the children do not ask, even though they may want it, the party is off. It is up to the children to ask. It is up to us to pray.
The point to remember is that our petitions do not change God’s mind for Him; they help in carrying out God’s mind in the way that He has planned to carry it out. We must not think that our petitions come as a surprise to God — as though God did not quite know what we were hoping for and was waiting to be told. All along, billions of years before we were born, our future request has been known to Him. In eternity it was already there, being thought of by God, until at a certain moment in time, He slipped an idea into our human heads and eventually we have come out with it in the form of prayer.
“But even so,” you might say, “this only accounts for the prayers that are answered. What about the prayers that are turned down? He must have inspired them, too, and if He did not mean to answer them, why did He inspire them? Wouldn’t it have been better to let us forget about praying for things that there would never be any chance of our getting?’
The explanation runs along two lines. First, God is praised by any petition we make to Him in prayer — whether it is one that will be granted or not. So long as we are not praying for something that is downright wrong (success in a robbery, for instance, or an accident to someone we dislike), the mere fact that we are turning to Him for what we want is a sign that we trust and depend on Him. We know whom to go to; we are treating Him as a child treats his father; it gives Him glory.
So the prayer is not wasted if we happen to ask for something that God has no intention of granting. He takes it at its true value, an act of love and worship, even though it comes to nothing from our point of view.
Second, when we pray for something and God does not give it to us, we get something better instead. So, from our point of view, it does come to something after all — even though we may not be able to see it like that. God lets us ask for things that are not so good because He knows that we often do not feel inclined to ask for the things that are really good. Well, we pray about these notso-good intentions and they do not come off, but all the time in heaven they are being turned into much better intentions that do come off. A child who sees a bright coin next to a dreary-looking check will ask for the shining bright coin. The father, who knows that the check is worth far more, puts the check in the bank for the child, and does not grant the coin. One day the child will know that this is a better arrangement, but in the meantime complains that his requests are not granted. We should not complain that our prayers are not granted; they are heard all right. They are answered in God’s way. We are never losers in prayer.
Another problem that has to do with the prayer of petition is this one: “What happens when two people are praying for the same thing which they can’t both have? Is the person who prays harder always bound to win? If not, what is the point of praying during a war for victory? Yet it often happens in history that the harder-praying side loses, and the godless armies have it all their own way.” Yes, this is a real difficulty until you look at the business from on top, from God’s angle. Seen from down below, with only the here-and-now results to go by, there seems to be a lot of unfairness about the ways in which prayers are heard. But if you try to take God’s point of view, you will see that when two people, or two armies, are praying for one thing, He sees what is going to be best for both of them in the long run, and He gives them that. It may be that one or another of them needs punishment, so that one’s prayer brings the grace of correction instead of a grace that would be used badly and so bring along more suffering. Suffering, correction, punishment: these things look different when you see them as God sees them.
What has just been said is not an argument for praying less — on the principle that if God is going to reward your prayer with suffering, you had better pray as little as possible — but for praying more. God, looking down from heaven at the greater effort you are putting into your prayer, gives you a clearer view of the situation as it appears to Him. Your prayer brings you closer not only to His love but also to His wisdom and knowledge; you begin to see beyond your own little intentions and requests, and at last the bigger questions of suffering and true happiness are opened out to you. You never lose by praying — even if the grace it brings to you is not the one you want.
Now, here is another thing. It may be that God has given you the urge to pray for a particular intention, and you have got the urge wrong. Say He suggests to your mind that you should pray for peace, and you do pray for peace — but for your own idea of peace. God is not going to give you the peace of idleness, which would be bad for you, but He gives you peace of conscience instead.
This sort of thing happened in the case of King David, who was urged to pray for a house. He did pray — hard — for a house. But he prayed for a house made of stone and cedar, when all along God meant a “house” in the sense of a family that would go on from generation to generation until finally our Lord would be born of it. David’s prayer for a building was rewarded better than he knew. God is not to be blamed when we jump to conclusions, and put our own meaning upon the urges He grants us.
Often God gives us the inspiration to pray for a particular thing, and we do for a bit but then get tired of it and give up. Is God to be blamed because He does not grant our request, the request He Himself has prompted, at once? Even if what we ask for is something obviously very good, like the grace to overcome a bad habit of swearing, we have to go on asking for it. If we stop asking for it, and do not make use of the grace that comes to us, we cannot expect a full answer to our prayer.
Take an example. A boy asks his father if he may stay up late to work for an exam. The father tells his son that he may do this every night until the exam, but that he must ask again if there is another exam later on. The boy’s request has been answered, but if he uses the time for watching television, the father cannot be blamed for not renewing the permission. In the same way, the permission is not granted unless the request is renewed.
So w
e have to go on asking, and we have to back up our petition by making a right use of what we get. If God said yes straight off, He would not have the satisfaction of receiving our repeated prayer. If God went on saying yes when we had no intention of living up to what we were asking for, He would be scattering graces uselessly. It would be both a waste of prayer on our part to ask for something we did not mean to use, and a waste of grace on God’s part to give something that was doing no good.
Let us now see what conclusions may be drawn from all of this. Go on making your petitions to God, but do be honest about them. You are dealing with grace and love, not with magic. Do not expect to be miraculously cured of a vice if you do not mean to practice the opposite virtue. Go on and on asking in faith and trust and love, but do not be discouraged if your prayer is not answered in the form you expect. There may be reasons that you do not know about which quite alter the situation as God sees it. And He sees it as it really is. God sees all around the subject, and you do not. (Back for a second to the illustration of the father and the day on the river: the father may refuse the request because he knows it is going to rain, or because he has seen a leak in the boat, or because the children happen to be coming down with measles, only they do not know it.) Lastly, join your petition with the prayer of our Lord, knowing that if you are praying in His name, you are doing two good things at once: you are bound to be pleasing the Father, and you cannot be asking for anything that will do you or anyone else harm.
Chapter 7
Fruitful Prayer
You may remember, from two chapters back, the illustration about someone taking your photograph by flashbulb camera. Now that the effects of prayer are to be looked at, this illustration will again come in useful. You must have noticed that after the photograph has been taken, you go on for a few minutes seeing little circles of light wherever you look. Well, that is what should happen after your prayer has been made. You may not see much during your prayer, but afterward and because of your prayer, you come to see more and more of God’s light wherever you look.
The saints are those who see God’s creation as swimming in His light. They see His light dancing on quite ordinary everyday things; their decisions are made according to His light; their sufferings and joys are unfolded in His light; they work, make friends, eat, go to bed, and get up under the steady beam of God’s light.
In the case of you and me, who are not saints, there is not a steady beam that we can see, but at least a certain amount of light is the reward of our prayer. This is not to say that every time we pray, we come away seeing God’s will more clearly, or that, for the next ten minutes, everything seems to have a halo around it. It is not at all like that.
What happens is that our faith is strengthened by every prayer we make, and with faith we view the world differently and the whole of life differently. There is nothing miraculous or exciting about it. It is simply the result of having been nearer to God for a bit. We get to look at the world and at life through His eyes. If we do not pray, we look at the world and life only through our own, and we are apt to see things wrong.
Our Lord said in the Sermon on the Mount that His followers were “the light of the world.”16 This was because they were walking in His light. So long as we live in His light, we see light. He has said so, and it must be true. He tells us that we must walk while we have the light17 — because then we are bound to be walking with Him and toward the Father. Again in the Sermon on the Mount (read it, because it contains nearly all our Lord’s teaching and is only three short chapters in St. Matthew’s Gospel), He explains how everything depends on seeing things right. “The light of thy body is thine eye,” he says, “and if thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be in darkness.”18 Now the way to get this “single eye” that our Lord speaks of and which makes us full of light is to pray. The saints have it all the time; we have it only in spells. But the more we pray, the longer we have it, and the more we see, the more wonderful the light.
When (to change the subject for a minute) Veronica was rewarded for her generosity by having the likeness of our Lord’s face clearly marked upon her veil, she was at the same time being taught a tremendous truth. It was a truth that the whole incident was designed to teach to us. By looking with faith and love at the face of Christ (which is what we are trying to do when we pray), we come to see the imprint of our Lord’s features on everyone and everything. It is like seeing the circles of light when the flash has done its work. You may be sure that Veronica, having seen our Lord so close up and having taken away with her the first reproduction of His sacred face, would for the rest of her life look upon her fellow creatures with a new vision. Especially in the features of the suffering, the sick, the poor, the persecuted, she would have seen the likeness of Jesus, to which her veil bore witness.
So you see, it is only indirectly that you can judge the quality of your prayer. Its fruitfulness is known to God alone. It is done for Him, and He alone can tell its value. All you can have to go upon is a few general effects — almost byproducts. If your prayer is going as it should, you ought to be growing in kindness to others, in self-control, in obedience, in patience under suffering. You should be growing, too, in humility, but as this is a virtue that you cannot be expected to see — because it is more a virtue which you see by than which you see — it is not much good talking about it here.
Among the more certain signs of a prayer-life that is moving in the right direction is a general prayerfulness outside actual prayer-time. If you find yourself turning to God when there is nothing much else going on, it is a good sign. If you turn to God instinctively when you are in a tight spot, it is a good sign. If you feel drawn to stop on in His presence after Holy Communion, making longer thanksgivings, it is a good sign. If you like trying to pray instead of just daydreaming when you are on a long drive or when you are sick or when you are a long time getting to sleep, it is a good sign. This is called recollectedness, and the more you feel attracted to recollection, the more you should know this is a grace from God as well as a proof that you are in the right way. It is a grace to be acted on and developed. It gives great glory to God and is the most solid security in a world of great uncertainty.
Another confirmation, or indirect sign of its fruitfulness, occurs when your prayer becomes less fussy. Too many words, too many elaborate resolutions, too many careful examinations: these things clutter up prayer and get in the way of the directness that God wants to see in our progress toward Him. “In spirit and in truth” — to which might reverently be added, “in simplicity and peace.”
We cannot worship God if we are in a fever of complication and agitation. Instinctively we guess that our Lady’s prayer was calm and simple and unworried about itself. It was not in a storm that the word of God came to Elijah, but in the soft breathing of the air.19 We like to stir up a great commotion because it is more exciting. We like to hear the rumble of thunder and the crackling of lightning against the rocks; we like to stand in a high wind and feel the sting of the rain on our faces. But this is movie stuff. These are just fireworks compared with the steady glow of the love of God.
See how simple, direct, and unthrilling is the prayer of the blessed in heaven. Nothing but “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts!” No circus tricks — something that anyone can say. See how simple is the canticle of praise that is chanted all day at Lourdes in honor of our Lady: “Ave, ave, ave, Maria.” Remember such prayers as “Alleluia” and “Amen” and “Fiat.” Nothing could be simpler than the prayers inspired by the Holy Spirit. The more our prayers get to be like that, the surer we can be that we are not wasting our time in prayer.
From being unanxious about the workings of our prayer, we should grow to be unanxious about the workings of life as a whole. Our own life, and the life of the world: God has charge of both, and can be left to take care of what is His. When you get down to it, you discover that love is the explanation of everything. God loves the wo
rld and every soul in it. Why should we break our heads worrying about either our own future or the future of the world? To fear the break-up of the world because man happens to have hit upon a weapon of destruction is just plain silly, is a lack of faith. As if the world could come to an end behind God’s back, before He was ready for it, before mankind had been brought to the point God had planned it should reach.
Our prayer should let us see these things in their overall setting, in the setting of divine providence. Once granted that God loves the universe He has created, and once granted that He loves you just as you are in the middle of it, He is not going to forsake it when it runs into a bit of difficulty, and He is not going to forsake you either. Prayer leads to dependence, trust, calm.
Above all, of course, prayer leads to charity toward others. This is put so clearly and sharply in the first letter of St. John that when we come upon the text suddenly, we wonder how we can ever make a mistake about it again. “If you do not love your neighbor whom you see, how can you love God, whom you do not see?”20 Prayer acts as a searchlight, playing close up on the faces of our neighbors and showing us who they really are under their make-up and their disguises and their masks. Who are they? They are the representatives of God. When we recognize them, we recognize Him. When we extend our charity to them, we are giving our charity to Him. It is as straightforward as that. But we see it so only in the measure that we pray. Prayer, in other words, is the solution to our problem.
Prayer and the Will of God Page 4