Tuesday of the First Week of Lent

Lectionary: 225

So shall my word be
that goes forth from my mouth;
It shall not return to me void,
but shall do my will,
achieving the end for which I sent it.


Lent invites us to pray, and to reflect upon the privilege of prayer. I would no more expect a "right to pray" before Almighty God than I would expect to place a phone call through to a US Senator. Were I a pagan I might be willing to pray to lesser gods, to those ephemeral spirits who seem to hang around our world to do favors or mischief, but mostly to suit their own ends. 
However, having lost faith in these personages a long time ago -- even if they exist I have no use for them -- I turn to the Lord who has graciously, insistently invited me to pray.
Prayer in our Christian tradition is first an admission that we cannot save ourselves. As amazing as the human being is -- who would have thought such marvelous creatures could evolve from the common animals of earth? -- there is so much that is beyond our ken. We can travel to the moon, plan interplanetary voyages, and idly speculate about interstellar journeys of several millennia; but we cannot fathom our own purpose without the transcendent gift of grace. 
Nor can we fulfill that mysterious purpose without the Spirit of Prayer. 
Need I mention our failure to satisfy one another? Even the best intentioned and most talented husband soon realizes his insufficiency before his wife. She wants more of him! And, for that matter, he of her. They might be satisfied as they give each other children, until they discover the profound disappointment of children. As the Author of Genesis discovered long ago, 

I will intensify your toil in childbearing;
in pain you shall bring forth children.

No one is placed on this Earth to satisfy me or give me pleasure.  That can only come from afar. 

When the Lord invites us to pray he gives us the Spirit of Prayer, the Holy Spirit, who is the Essence and Substance of his love for His Father, and his Father's love for him. We find ourselves nestled in their embrace, like an infant securely held in the arms of both father and mother. 
The Lord's Prayer belongs to the Mass. If we come across it in the study of Saint Matthew's Gospel, if we learned it by hearing our parents' reciting it day after day, it belongs nonetheless within the Mass. These are the words that open our mouths to receive the Word of God. They echo in the body of the Church as our synchronized inhaling and exhaling recite the words and phrases. The familiar thoughts of our hearts are inspired by breath as they sound across our vocal cords into the chamber of the Church.
When I baptize babies I invite the congregation to teach these new Christians right here and now the words of our prayer. They will learn them by heart and treasure them from this day into eternity and beyond. They will know who they are because they can recite this and other prayers. 
The Hail Mary will assure them of love despite their disappointing experience of family.
The Glory Be will locate them within time, with an assured awareness of past, present, and future; and a confident knowledge of Trinitarian Love. 

Lent reminds us of our failure to pray as we ought, and of God's invitation to return daily and many times a day to that practice. We are bathed in God's word, and our breath is God's spirit.