Here is a classic story from the Desert Fathers of the 4th century.
A brother asked one of the elders, “What shall I do? I’m obsessed by this nagging thought -- ‘You can’t fast and you can’t work, so at least go and visit the sick because that’s a loving thing to do.’” The elder said to him, “Go. Eat, drink, sleep, just don’t leave your cell.” For three days the brother did just this, and then he was overcome with acedia (spiritual lassitude and apathy). But he found some palm leaves and started trimming them. Next day he started plaiting them; when he felt hungry he said, “Here are some more palm leaves; I’ll prepare them and then have something to eat.” He finished them and said, “Perhaps I’ll read for a little before eating.” When he had done some reading he said, “Now let’s sing a few psalms and then I can eat with a good conscience.” And so by God’s help he went on little by little.
Did you ever hear such a prosaic, undramatic story. But it is exactly what faith is like. The church and things we read may be exhorting us to all manner of radical change and heroism. But faith is mainly a matter of putting one foot in front of the other and taking the next step. And for a lot of the greatest humble heroes in the church, that is all they can do for the most part.
What God asks of us is the next step. And this is mirrored in our prayer, where all that we do is silently, interiorly, repeat our word, our mantra. The mantra in itself is utterly insignificant. It has no spiritual or magical qualities. Whatever it means of itself, we are not meditating on its meaning. We simply repeat it, lovingly, particularly, so that it is still there when we have become distracted and have to return to it. That returning is the act of faith, the next step.
Perhaps our ego would like to do more than this, to change the world, to make a difference, to leave a mark. Recently I was at a funeral where as usual we had heard all about the triumphs and achievements of the deceased -- and afterwards a woman said to us, “I’d better hurry up and do something so that they have something to say at my funeral.” It was a joke, of course -- she has done plenty.
Contemplative prayer is about surrendering the ego and its need for recognition and satisfaction. Whatever we might want to pray about is gently put aside, and replaced by the simple repetition of the word, the mantra -- thus making space for whatever God seeks to achieve.
