Cynthia Bourgeault

Prayer is not a request for God’s favors.  True, it has been used to obtain the satisfaction of personal desires.  It has even been adopted to reinforce prejudices, justify violence, and create barriers between people and between countries.  But genuine prayer is based on recognizing the Origin of all that exists, and opening ourselves to it....  In prayer we acknowledge God as the supreme source from which flows all strength, all goodness, all existence, acknowledging that we have our being, life itself from this supreme Power.  Once can then communicate with this Source, worship it, and ultimately place one’s very center in it.
Piero Ferrucci, Ineffable Grace (p.254)
 
“Prayer is talking to God”: with these words nearly all of us receive our first religious instruction.  Certainly I did.  As a child, I learned the usual first prayers and graces (“Now I lay me down to sleep” and “God is great, God is good…”), followed, a bit later, by the Lord’s Prayer and the Twenty-Third Psalm.  I was also encouraged to speak to God in my own words and instructed that the appropriate topics for this conservation were to give thanks for the blessings of the day and to ask for assistance with particular needs and concerns.
 
But for all this, I was also one of the relatively rare few who also had it patterned into me that prayer was listening to God.  Not even listening for messages, exactly, like the child Samuel in my favorite Old Testament story, but just being there, quietly gathered in God’s presence.  This learning came not from my formal Sunday School training, but through the good fortune of spending my first six school years in a Quaker school, where weekly silent “meeting for worship” was as an invariable part of the rhythm of life as schoolwork or recess.  I can still remember trooping together, class by class, into the cavernous two-story meetinghouse and taking our places on the long, narrow benches once occupied by elders of yore.  Occasionally, there would be a scriptural verse of thought offered, but for long stretches there was simply silence.  And in that silence, as I gazed up at the sunlight sparkling through those upper windows, or followed a secret tug drawing me down into my own heart, I began to know a prayer much deeper than “talking to God.”  Somewhere in those depths of silence I came upon my first experiences of God as a loving presence that was always near, and prayer as a simple trust in that presence.
 
Cynthia Bourgeault is an Episcopal priest, an internationally-known retreat leader—teaches and spreads the recovery of the Christian contemplative and Wisdom path, and the author of eight books including Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening and The Wisdom Jesus.