Monday of the Sixth Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 335

But he should ask in faith, not doubting,

for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea

that is driven and tossed about by the wind.

For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord,

since he is a man of two minds, unstable in all his ways.

I love Saint James' simile, "a man of two minds." I think of the frustrated prayer of King Claudius in Shakespeare's Hamlet,

But, O, what form of prayer

Can serve my turn? 'Forgive me my foul murder'?

That cannot be; since I am still possess'd

Of those effects for which I did the murder,

My crown, mine own ambition and my queen.

May one be pardon'd and retain the offence?

Two-minded, he will finally give up trying to pray:

My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:

Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

How often do we -- realizing we should pray -- rush into the duty with a quick sign of the cross, a half-formed thought, and a rapid stream of words to satisfy the obligation? We might even bring a petition or two, and then sign off with a halfhearted, "...but thy will be done." Thus leaving the Lord an out for disappointing us.

In this Letter, Saint James' speaks of perseverance: 

"And let perseverance be perfect, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." 

We might call his perseverance "single-mindedness." Or mindfulness, attention, or focus. I listened to a Veteran recently who is sorely obsessed with what a friend has done to him. He complained of the injustice and unfairness of it all; he repeated himself like a broken record, over and over with the same stories. 

I tried to tell him that his brain is possessed by someone else, that this other person has "talons" sunk in the jelly of his head. I urged him to find his own center where this enemy has not penetrated. But he could hear nothing of what I said. His affliction may continue for weeks because he continually picks at the injured tissue of himself. One of his two minds belongs to someone else.

I know what it's like; I've been there.

Very often we have to approach prayer with a plea of salvation. The Author of The Cloud of Unknowing insists that God cannot resist the prayer of the helpless. We must approach prayer not with confidence and strength but with our pathetic distractions and obsessions. Help me, Lord! I have two minds and they cannot hear one another!

Our prayer begins with our need before the God who comes to us as needy, the One born in poverty in Bethlehem, who is homeless, crucified and buried in a borrowed grave. We must persevere in his presence and our helplessness, praying, "Here I am, Lord." Even as the Lord remains with us.