Revisiting the Liturgy of the Hours

I used to have little appreciation for the Liturgy of the Hours. I considered it ‘too structured,’ ‘too formal,’ and a mere recitation of words other people had written. It could be spoken while the speaker’s mind wandered anywhere and everywhere (I decided)… so wouldn’t such a practice just lead to dry, lifeless prayer?

I could not have been more wrong. 

The Liturgy of the Hours, also known as the ‘Divine Office,’ is an official group of prayers used by priests and Religious. It is a primary part of the daily schedules of monks and nuns. 

The Divine Office is the same for people throughout the Church, throughout the world. On the very same day, Father O’Neill in Dublin and a group of monks in Sydney and a monastery of nuns in Toledo are praying.

And I can pray with them, if I wish.

As I wrote here in the past, the Liturgy of the Hours helps my prayer stay on track. In it, scripture is right before me; thus I have 'grillwork' for my day.  I am praying with the whole Church, right along with Father O'Neill and the monks in Sydney and the Toledo nuns. And, if I'm tempted to bypass prayer, I get help to carry me past my (laziness, in my case).

Do I, personally, pray the entirety of the Liturgy of the Hours?  No.  But My goal is to work toward that. I'm making a commitment to at least pray part of it every day.  I hope to pray more and more of it, to 'baby step' my way into staying solidly on its tracks throughout the day.

In my haphazard life, I definitely need some of that structure I once dreaded.  Otherwise, I wind up wasting entire days.

I find that those 'words others have written' often turn out to be cries and groanings from my very own heart.

Does my mind wander while I pray in this way?  My mind wanders no matter how I pray.  The Divine Office helps call the drifting mind back.

Does the Liturgy of the Hours lead me to the dry, lifeless prayer I feared?  No.  Sometimes I feel dry and lifeless, yes, but again:  that would happen no matter how I pray.  The printed words help me stay focused.

In some key ways, the Liturgy of the hours is a lens that helps me zoom right in on the presence and reality of God.

This is a respost from our archives. It is linked to Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for 'It's Worth Revisiting Wednesday.'   

A Homemaker's Vespers

While our Sisters and Brothers in monasteries are chanting Vespers (usually between 4:30 and 6:00 pm), we who live 'in the world' may well be in the busiest time of our day. The world, at Vespers-time, is right in the middle of rush hour. It is when many are leaving work, pouring into roads and trains to make the journey home. Some of us are preparing an evening meal, knowing that growling tummies will not be soothed if we hide away in prayer corners to sing and chant praise.

So we do what must be done. Many times we're content to be exactly where we are. Sometimes, however, the grass can look greener inside the monastic fence, and I will admit that 'rush hour,' for me, is a time when my own grass can seem seriously withered. This is due in large part (for me) to a kind of physical and mental lagginess that tends to hit in late afternoon, and has for as long as I can remember.  It's the time of day when I'm tired, draggy, and most likely to feel, well: grumbly.  

Through the years, I've learned that I am not the only person to be washed out at that time. Yet this is when people have to get themselves home from work, food must be prepared, and children may need a bit of extra referee-ing.

When the body is exhausted and the mind is reeling from a day's work, even the humdrum tasks of late afternoon can seem immense. 'I remember reading,' said our friend Rose some time ago, 'that obedience to one's superior is more meritorious than all the self-imposed mortifications, fastings and prayers. Then I realized my superior is really my vocation as a wife and mother. Therefore, my duties and responsibilities of motherhood must come first. And, done with the right intentions (as St. Francis de Sales says, 'for the greater glory of God'), all my actions are lifted up in prayer.'

Those in a cloister come to Vespers out of obedience. They gather to pray when they feel like doing so, and when they do not.  

When my day starts to bend toward evening, it is time for a particular kind of 'Vespers.'  It's a time when I can offer my duties, my care for those around me, any rush-hour hassles I may face, and even my own dragginess, to God.  

By being made into an offering, these can become my evening prayer.

'Some people might think it contradictory to speak of 'contemplative' in the same sentence as 'mother of a very large family.' But it is the contemplative spirit that has helped me survive the chaos that is natural when raising a number of children.... The cloister in my heart is a place of refuge.  It is a place where I can retreat from the world no matter where I am; in the middle of a crowded mall, or in a busy grocery store, or in my own kitchen.' - Rose

© 2012 and 2015 Nancy Shuman
thecloisteredheart.org      

Painting by Von Bornin

This is a repost from our archives. It is linked to Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for 'It's Worth Revisiting Wednesday.' 

The Divine Office: Together We Pray

I used to have little appreciation for the Liturgy of the Hours. I considered it ‘too structured,’ ‘too formal,’ and a mere recitation of words other people had written. It could be spoken while the speaker’s mind wandered anywhere and everywhere (I decided)… so wouldn’t such a practice just lead to dry, lifeless prayer?

I could not have been more wrong.  

The Liturgy of the Hours, also known as the ‘Divine Office,’ is an official group of prayers used by priests and Religious. It is a primary part of the daily schedules of monks and nuns.  

The Divine Office is the same for people throughout the Church, throughout the world. On the very same day, Father O’Neill in Dublin and a group of monks in Sydney and a monastery of nuns in Toledo are praying the exact same words.

And I can pray with them, if I wish.

As I wrote here a few weeks ago, the Liturgy of the Hours helps my prayer stay on track. In it, scripture is right before me; thus I have 'grillwork' for my day.  I am praying with the whole Church, right along with Father O'Neill and the monks in Sydney and the Toledo nuns. And, if I'm tempted to bypass prayer, I get help to carry me past my (laziness, in my case).

Do I, personally, pray the entirety of the Liturgy of the Hours?  No.  But My goal is to work toward that. I'm making a commitment to at least pray part of it every day.  I hope to pray more and more of it, to 'baby step' my way into staying solidly on its tracks throughout the day.

In my haphazard life (and my very nature is 'haphazard'), I definitely need some of that structure I once dreaded.  Otherwise, I wind up wasting entire days.

I find that those 'words others have written' often turn out to be cries and groanings from my very heart.

Does my mind wander while I pray in this way?  My mind wanders no matter how I pray.  The Divine Office helps call the drifting mind back.

Does the Liturgy of the Hours lead me to the dry, lifeless prayer I feared?  No.  Sometimes I feel dry and lifeless, yes, but again:  that would happen no matter how I pray.  The printed words help me stay focused.

In some key ways, the Liturgy of the hours is a lens that helps me zoom right in on the presence and reality of God.

Where can we find the Liturgy of the Hours? 

A WONDERFUL resource is Divine Office.org.  I cannot recommend this highly enough.  It is free, it has all of the hours available for reading or for listening to, and it's a marvelous tool for those of us who have trouble finding our way through the books themselves.  It's all right there for us.  The one and four volume breviaries are available for purchase at this site as well.

And for an excellent explanation of this kind of prayer, check out Daria Sockey's blog Coffee and Canticles for 'About the Liturgy of the Hours. '  

This post is linked to Catholic Bloggers Network Linkup Blitz


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Watch Over Us As We Sleep

'As I retire, I close the day in my choir stall.  "Protect us, Lord, as we stay awake; watch over us as we sleep, that awake, we may keep watch with Christ, and asleep, rest in His peace."  (From Liturgy of the Hours, Night Prayer).'

As darkness falls about the monastery, nuns (or monks, as the case may be) gather to chant the Office of Night Prayer.  When I've been on retreat, I have found this to be my favorite prayer of the day.  It is much the same from night to night, it has repetition as in a gentle lullaby, and it ends with a Marian hymn.  At the end of this Office, inhabitants of the monastery retire to their cells in silence.

Many of us cannot bring this exact nighttime ritual into our homes, nor are we called to do so.  But we can end the day with prayer.  Even if we do so in the silence of our hearts as the family settles down around us (or when they don't, and every parent knows the kind of night of which I speak!), we can end our day with an act of thanksgiving to God. 

If I am able, I sometimes supplement Night Prayer by going to the Prie Dieu blog and taking a few minutes to examine my conscience, listen to a nighttime hymn, or sing along with the Salve Regina.

However I may do so, I want to remember to close my day by giving thanks to God.   




'O God, with Whom there is no darkness, keep and defend us and all Your children, we beseech You, throughout the coming night.  Renew our hearts with Your forgiveness and our bodies with untroubled sleep, that we may wake to use more faithfully your gift of life.  Through Jesus Christ, Our Lord.  Amen.'

The Nights of Many Bells

In some monasteries, the new day begins in the middle of the night.  Never having lived this sort of life, I again turn to the experience of one who has done so.  "Not long after midnight," writes Mother Mary Francis PCC, "Sister Sacristan...sets her jaw for what is at once a beautiful and a grim task:  to rouse all the other sleeping nuns.  It is a beautiful task because the sacristan's bell is summoning the community to a midnight tryst with God.  It is a grim business because Poor Clares unfortunately carry their souls about in the same clay casing found on the rest of humanity.  Consequently, though the soul is ready and waiting to go to the choir... the flesh finds the idea not at all stimulating.... Blackness clings to the great, tall windows in the choir, and the huge grille over the altar reaches long fingers of shadow down toward the chanting nuns.... I always feel.. that we are walking down all the avenues of the universe, lighting God's lamps on every corner."  (A Right to Be Merry, pp. 115-118)

Out here in the world, I can't identify with bells that rattle me from sleep in the middle of the ni...

O but wait.  O yes.  I can.  The nights of many bells were several decades ago for me now, but some of you are reading these very words between two such nights.  We know what it's like.  We're deep into a sound sleep, having finally fallen exhausted into bed, when the baby cries.  Is it time for her to eat again?... oh, it can't be!  We drag to our feet, get the baby, feed her, and now she needs a diaper change.  Three hours later, this sweet voiced little "bell" rings again.  Several months after this, Baby Girl is finally sleeping six hours straight, but her brother has begun having nightmares.  And then there are those times when a virus sweeps through the family....

Parents, no matter how much we love our little ones, carry our souls about in the same clay casing found on the rest of humanity.  Our hearts want to rush to the baby, want to comfort a scared five year old.  But our flesh does not find crawling from a warm bed stimulating.

On we walk, however.  Out of bed we climb.  We sacrifice comfort to the summons of the night bells.  We are the ones God has put in charge of lighting lamps of love with our tenderness.  If God has placed little Michael in my life and my home and my heart, then little Michael's cry serves as a bell.  Even at midnight.

May we be given grace to hear the goodness in the bells.

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© 2012 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved. thecloisteredheart.org      

Vespers at Home

Over the years, the rooms in my house have become so familiar that I feel they're almost part of my skin.  Day after day I've cared for them, chatted and dreamed and prayed in them, memorized the view from almost every window.  

Today I had a thought that took me aback.  What if one of the rooms in my home was a chapel?  What if, after a hard day of work, the people in my household sat down to relax not on sofas and easy chairs, but in choir stalls and pews?

I suppose what struck me most about this thought was that a cloistered nun doesn't just visit her chapel.  She lives with it.  She lives IN it.  She spends at least as much time there as I do in my living room.  It's where she gathers with the rest of her monastic family:  morning, noon and night.  When she's tired from a day of work in garden or kitchen or sewing room, the chapel is where she begins her quiet evening at home.  

The quiet evening is ushered in with the Office of Vespers, which is technically (normally) in late afternoon.  Again Sisters slip noiselessly into choir stalls.  It is time to blend their voices into graceful hymns of praise.

The chant is back and forth, as always.  In most monastic settings, one row of choir stalls faces another.  Side one sings the first part in unison; side two calls out a response....

God, come to my assistance. 
Lord, make haste to help me.
Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. 
As it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever.  Amen.  Alleluia....

The chant gives praise to God.  It soothes the souls of its singers as well. How could it help but do so?  Its notes are even, practiced, measured, calming.  The surroundings are like a balm to those to whom they've become so familiar.

After all, this is home.

"Within us there is a palace of immense magnificence.  The entire edifice is built of gold and precious stones.... Truly there is no building of such great beauty as a pure soul, filled with virtues, and the greater these virtues, the brighter these stones sparkle... In this palace the great King lodges, Who has been pleased to become your Guest, and.. He sits there on a throne of tremendous value: your heart."  (St. Teresa of Avila)

Text not in quotes © 2012 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org       


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My Choir Stall

The bell clangs again, it's time for midafternoon prayer.  Once more, residents of the monastery gather in the choir stalls to sing His praise.

Again the swish of habits, the sliding of soft soles across floors, the quiet rustle of Breviaries being opened and pages being turned.  Sisters move to their places without hesitation; there is no wondering where any one goes today, for it's always the same.  Once choir stalls*  are assigned, they are easily remembered.  After all, a nun prays in the same one numerous times a day, seven days a week.

The swell of the organ, a blending of voices, the singing of praise.  Outside, potatoes for dinner may be half dug from the garden, but Sister Gardener left them behind at the summons of the bell.  Perhaps there's a prospect of rain this afternoon, and Sister Gardener might have disliked dropping her shovel to come indoors for this brief Office.  She may be distracted, listening for a rumble of thunder; but here she is, and here she sings.

My life in the world is not like this.  I say again:  my life in the world is not supposed to be like this.  I might hope for a particular time today for prayer, but I don't drop a pan or the baby to rush away to it. 

There is something I can do, however.  I can bring the prayer to me.  My "choir stall" is both permanent and portable.  My designated prayer place is the choir stall of my heart.  So:  while boiling water, shuffling files in an office, diapering the baby, I can praise God.

With a simple three word aspiration, I can praise Him.  I can do so silently (the recommended prayer-style in the workplace!); while in the solitude of my home or car - and especially while rocking a baby - I might even want to sing a hymn.

Wherever I am and whatever I'm doing, I have a choir stall in my heart. 

"Let my soul live to praise You."  (Psalm 119:175) 

"I will bless the Lord at all times; His praise shall be ever in my mouth."  (Psalm 34:2)
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* a choir stall is a chair in the chapel, where a nun or monk prays

Text not in quotes © 2012 Nancy Shuman.  All Rights Reserved.
thecloisteredheart.org      


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