Category Archives: prayer

All ye among the halls of heaven…

O SAVIOUR, FOUNT OF HEAVENLY LIFE

O Saviour, Fount of heavenly life,
Assist us in our earthly strife;
Thou pitying Virgin, hear our cries,
And raise us from our miseries.

Angelic hosts our needs attend;
Ye holy patriarchs, defend;
Ye choirs of prophets, by your prayers,
Protect us from unholy snares.

Herald of Christ, we call on thee;
And thou that hold’st the golden key;
Apostles all, your voice we claim,
Dissolve the bonds of sin and shame.

Triumphant martyrs of the Lord;
Ye holy preachers of the word;
And virgins chaste; to you we pray;
Wash all our sinful stains away.

All ye among the halls of heaven,
To whom the light of love is given,
In pity hear our cries, — that we
The glory of God’s face may see.

All praise and honour, power and love
To God the Sire who rules above,
Unto the Son like glory be
And Holy Ghost eternally.

-Rabanus Maurus (780 – 856) Germany
Translated by Daniel Joseph Donahoe

Rembrandt – St. Jerome in Prayer

The whiteness of the moon at even.

The first full moon in November is traditionally called the Beaver Moon in North America, and marks the season when we might be busy as beavers getting everything shored up against winter.

Lately I’ve been refreshing my memory of the hymn that I memorized soon after my husband’s passing, a version of St. Patrick’s Breastplate from Charles Villiers Stanford. He used two old Irish tunes to compose a majestic setting for Cecil Frances Alexander’s poetry. The YouTube version I learned from is still up: “St. Patrick’s Breastplate.”

On the occasion of the full moon I am sharing only the portion of the hymn that draws our spiritual eyes to the natural world.

I bind unto myself today
the virtues of the starlit heaven,
the glorious sun’s life-giving ray,
the whiteness of the moon at even;

the flashing of the lightning free,
the whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,
the stable earth, the deep salt sea,
among the old eternal rocks.

Another version of this ancient hymn is “The Deer’s Cry,” and my favorite rendition of that one is sung by Lisa Kelly here: “The Deer’s Cry.”

What could I add to this prayer? The blessing is in the singing of it.

Darial Gorge, Moon Night by Ivan Aivazovsky, 1868

Mother and daughter: boundless.

“Prayer… by its action it is the reconciliation of man with God, the mother and daughter of tears, a bridge for crossing temptations, a wall of protection from afflictions, a crushing of conflicts, boundless activity, the spring of virtues, the source of spiritual gifts, invisible progress, food of the soul, the enlightening of the mind, an axe for despair, a demonstration of hope, the release from sorrow.”

-St. Abba Agathon

“Abba Agathon was trained in the Thebaid by Abba Poemen when he was a young man. According to the Sayings of the Desert Fathers, he was highly regarded by Poemen, who called him ‘Abba’ (father) even though Agathon was still young. He was known for his exceptional meekness, accounting himself the most sinful of all men. He was a disciple of Abba Lot.

“Abba Agathon lived in Scetis with Alexander and Zoilus, who were later disciples of Arsenius. He moved after the destruction of Scetis and lived near Troe close to the Nile with his disciple Abraham. It was said of Abba Agathon that he often travelled taking nothing but his knife for making wicker-baskets. He, even in old age, provided everything he needed for himself by manual labor. The abba is said to have even lived for three consecutive years with a stone in his mouth to help himself learn silence and abstinence from speech.

“At his death, Abba Agathon remained for three days with his eyes open. The brothers asked him where he was, and he replied saying that he was at the Judgement Seat of God. When his disciples asked him if he was afraid, he said, ‘Until this moment, I have done my utmost to keep the commandments of God. But I am a man; how should I know if my deeds are acceptable to God?’ When they questioned him more, he said, ‘Truly the judgement of God is not that of man.’ Dorotheus of Gaza twice quotes the final words of Abba Agathon in his exhortations to his monks.

“Abba Agathon died c. 435 AD.”

Source

I pray against myself.

A PRAYER

Lord, I know that even my asking for spiritual enlightenment
is mostly a lie, as my motivations are so mixed….

Nevertheless, hear my words, O Lord,
divorced from all the falseness with which I say them.

And Lord, I am not closing my eyes as I pray this,
nor scrunching up my face and emotions with spirituality,

as if on my own I could change myself, or as if,
having made this awesome scrunchy-faced effort,
it won’t be my fault when you don’t answer this prayer
for my renewal.

Rather, I am genuinely accepting that I don’t know
what precisely would have to change in me
for me to love you more.

This unknown change, which you do know,
is what I pray for: I pray against myself. Amen.

—Timothy Patitsas