MASKED PRAYER

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In the course of singing Lauds (Morning Prayer) earlier today, I found myself slow to join in chanting Psalm 149, which begins with these lines:

Alleluia!
Sing to the LORD a new song,
his praise in the assembly of the faithful.
Let Israel be glad in its maker,
the people of Zion rejoice in their king.
Let them praise his name in dance,
make music with tambourine and lyre.
For the LORD takes delight in his people,
honors the poor with victory.

Of course I did start singing after a line or two, but I was well aware of what had prompted that moment of hesitation. Probably the most immediate reason was that I, like my brothers, was singing God's praises through a mask. It seems that singing is one of the most effective ways of spreading Covid-19 to those around you, so we've decided to all wear masks during our common prayer. So, besides being distracted by my glasses' fogging up as I sang, my mask was itching. So, frankly, I wasn't in the mood to "sing to the Lord a new song."

I've been teaching the novices about communal Benedictine prayer this past week, and some of the ideas we'd discussed were a big help to me this morning. Here are a couple of thoughts.

Our prayer, based almost entirely on the psalms, is intended to foster our awareness of God's presence everywhere in creation, whether in nature or in our brothers and sisters or in our own heart. So we chant God's praises together in Psalm 149 to celebrate God's faithfulness. This approach to prayer, as Sister Joan Chittister, O.S.B., writes, "makes more for a spirituality of awareness than of consolation."  So there I was singing though my mask, along with the people of Israel and with my brothers and with the whole church the praises of this God who loves us and has given us victory over our enemies.  It was a moment of awareness of God's loving presence, rather than of consolation.

I'd brought with me to prayer a whole long list of relatives and close friends who are struggling with

various problems these days. I wanted to lift them up along with my black and brown sisters and brothers, and the thousands of people who will crowd together into an arena tonight to hear our President. But the church asked me instead to sing Psalm 149 and praise God's name with dancing."

I'm just about fed up with hearing about this pandemic every time I turn on the radio or read the newspaper. So this morning I was hoping to escape all of that for fifty minutes and escape into a world of order, love, and peace. Instead, the reality of the world's troubled situation followed me right into the midst of Morning Prayer. Awareness, not consolation.

If I may quote Sr. Joan again,

"Benedictine prayer, rooted in the Psalms and other Scriptures, takes us out of ourselves to form in us a larger vision of life than we ourselves can ever dredge up out of our own lives alone." (Wisdom Distilled from the Daily: Living the Rule of St. Benedict Today," 29)

By the end of Lauds I found myself, itchy mask and all, singing God's praises with the People of Sion, with my brother monks and with my suffering relatives and friends, and my brothers and sisters throughout the world.

Sing to the LORD a new song,
his praise in the assembly of the faithful.
Let Israel be glad in its maker,
the people of Zion rejoice in their king.
Let them praise his name in dance,
make music with tambourine and lyre.
For the LORD takes delight in his people.