As of this writing, the nation keeps vigil with the Texas
families whose loved ones were swept away by flood waters, the death toll north
of 100 and climbing.
According to media reports, over the Fourth of July weekend
gun violence killed 189 people and injured 500 in our country.
Last week I traveled out of state to comfort friends whose
37-year-old daughter died unexpectedly of an aortic aneurism during a European
holiday with her husband.
And this week, life in our city is bookended by the
anniversaries of two senseless murders, a year apart, which took the lives of
two women in our community.
Is it any wonder my heart turns to questions of prayer and
suffering? What good is prayer if we still suffer?
I can’t tell you exactly how prayer works, but I know it
isn’t magic. I don’t always get what I pray for. Do you?
I think prayer “works,” to the extent it does, because it
engenders faith, opens our hearts to new possibilities, and weaves
relationships through which we are led to grace-filled responses breathed into
life by the presence of the Holy.
Believers turn to prayer – beseeching God – during periods
of suffering, pain and challenge, and experience the fruit of prayer through
attention. My friends whose daughter died told me how much it meant to know our
sisters were praying for them. Our prayer, of many others, didn’t remove their
suffering, but lightened the burden, helping them to feel the consolation of
many who were suffering with them.
That suffering with – the very definition of
compassion – is a gift of prayer, perhaps its most important gift. When we
pray, our hearts break open in compassion; when we have compassion, we turn our
hearts to prayer.
There is so much suffering in the world that needs our open,
compassionate hearts. We could all make a long list. If we can relieve
suffering by practical means – our own or others – it is best to do so. Rush
the neighbor to the ER; step in for the injured colleague; have the needed
surgery; seek the treatment. Take the attitude change to heart; make the moves
necessary to improve safety and the quality of our lives.
But when suffering comes that makes no sense and has no
reason, we look to Jesus, who chose suffering, “heedless of its shame” as St.
Paul tells us. Jesus accepted the senseless suffering of the cross and imbued
it with ultimate meaning through the Resurrection. Though none of us is the
Christ, through our own suffering, we, too, can find ways to turn darkness into
light.
During the darkest days of the war in Iraq, our Iraqi
Dominican sisters and brothers told us how much it meant to them to know that
members of the order throughout the world were praying in solidarity. Our
prayer was more than words. Some of us showed up. It wasn’t practical for every
Dominican in the world to go to Iraq – but the fruit of our global, communal
prayer enabled some of us – supported materially by the Dominican family the
world over—to put our feet on the ground where the Iraqi people were suffering.
It inspired many more of us to speak out against the war and share the witness
of the Iraqi Dominicans with policymakers. It led to interventions at the
United Nations, and contributed globally to a conversion of hearts and minds
about the war.
You may have your own experience of the fruits of
prayerfulness. A neighbor or friend has emergency surgery? You might pray and
be inspired to do something practical like bring a casserole or walk the dog
while they recover. A baby arrives early? Maybe some friends, through their
prayer, are moved to finish stocking the nursery or assembling the crib.
Recently one of our Dominican associates traveled with her
students to a refugee camp in Kenya, where they witnessed the suffering caused
by the senseless dismantling of USAID, the government agency that used to
provide nutrition to thousands of people in the camp. It was devastating to
see, she said. She and her students are struggling through – and praying about –
how best to act now. How might they communicate the consequences of this
ill-considered U.S. policy in the best possible way to break open hearts and
perhaps lead to the reversal of suffering caused by a bad policy decision? In
other words, they understand exactly the link between prayer and action – prayer
inspires action; action rooted in prayer bears fruit.
“Prayer changes things” is one of those slogans you might
find on a pillow at the home goods store. It can change things: through the
intention and attention of the ones who pray, and through the presence of God’s
Holy Spirit among those who desire to bring healing to the world’s pain.
Sister Beth Murphy, OP, is the communications director
for the Dominican Sisters of Springfield.