Holy Thursday: Praying with Jesus

Today, Catholics move into the most prayerful and solemn time of the Church year—the Triduum, which is made up of Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday.  These days prepare us for the highest Christian holiday, Easter Sunday, which celebrates Jesus’ resurrection from the dead after his crucifixion.

For each day of the Triduum, I will post a prayer that speaks to that day’s particular mood and the experiences of a Biblical character who plays an important role in the day’s events.

Ignatian prayer asks us to contemplate Scripture in a particular way, placing ourselves in the Biblical stories and using our imaginations to better understand the characters we encounter.  In that spirit, we will “pray along” with Jesus, Peter, the apostles, and Mary Magdalene during the next four days.

Today, we pray with Jesus.  In the three Synoptic Gospels, we get a moving account of what seems to be Jesus’ most agonizing time in prayer.  After his last supper with his apostles, Jesus brings them to the garden of Gethsemane so he can pray.  The Gospel of Mark tells us that, “Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, ‘My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.’” (Mark 26: 39)

He Qis "Praying at Gethsemane"

Knowing his death is imminent, Jesus comes to prayer in utter sorrow, no doubt with many worries on his mind.  Not only does he think about the physical pain he will endure when killed (he is clearly aware of the common form of execution in first-century Roman-controlled Palestine—crucifixion), but he is also concerned for those he leaves behind—his mother, his apostles (who can’t even manage to stay awake when he asks), and the countless disciples whose lives are at risk because of their association with him.  Will the movement he began die out once he’s gone?  Has he left his followers for dead?  Will he be able to endure the pain and mockery he will face?  Countless thoughts occupy his mind, and focusing on God’s will is difficult.  Tears drip like blood from his eyes, and he begs God to take his cup—his God-given mission—from him.

To me, this is one of Jesus’ most human moments, and it gives me comfort about my own prayer life.  So often I come to prayer distracted or in worry, lacking a clear mind and an openness to the silence of God’s voice.   When I kneel down before the Blessed Sacrament in Dahlgren Chapel or the beautiful Jesus icon in Copley Crypt Chapel in Georgetown, thoughts about my next workout, a previous conversation with a friend, and the upcoming summer come to mind, and letting them go is sometimes hard.  Knowing that Jesus too had a difficult time in prayer makes me feel much better about my own prayer life.  Rather than leaving the chapel feeling guilty for not getting through the Daily Examen (a common Jesuit prayer) or for speeding through my Hail Marys, I can feel solace, conscious that Jesus too struggled when talking to God or reciting the Psalms.

The end of Jesus’ prayer also has something to teach us.  After questioning God and asking for the cup to be taken away, he submits to God, accepting his will.  Immediately after his prayer, he is betrayed by Judas and arrested.  But Jesus is calm throughout the next and last 24 hours of his life.  He is generous and kind despite the horrible treatment he receives.  To me, this signals that Jesus’ prayer was “successful,” if prayer can ever be considered successful.  He must have received some solace from God, despite his distractions and initial distrust.  Jesus worked though his troubled thoughts, persevered in his prayer, and ultimately came out stronger and with a clearer perspective.  We too must strive for the same.

When I was on a 3-day, silent Ignatian Retreat a few weekends back, I was exposed to the following prayer, which perfectly expresses the mixture of emotions that often accompany us in prayer.  Jesus may have uttered a similar prayer to his father in the garden.

It would be easier for me to pray if I were clear

O Eternal One, 

It would be easier for me to pray 

if I were clear 

and of a single mind and a pure heart;
if I could be done hiding from myself 

and from you, even in my prayers.
 
But, I am who I am, 

mixture of motives and excuses, 

blur of memories, 

quiver of hopes, 

knot of fear, 

tangle of confusion, 

and restless with love, 

for love.
 
I wander somewhere between

gratitude and grievance, 

wonder and routine,
high resolve and undone dreams, 

generous impulses and unpaid bills.
 
Come, find me, Lord. 

Be with me exactly as I am. 

Help me find me, Lord. 

Help me accept what I am, 

so I can begin to be yours.
 
Make of me something small enough to snuggle, 

young enough to question,
simple enough to giggle, 

old enough to forget, 

foolish enough to act for peace; 

skeptical enough to doubt 
the sufficiency of anything but you,
and attentive enough to listen 

as you call me out of the tomb of my timidity 

into the chancy glory of my possibilities 

and the power of your presence.

Ted Loder, Guerillas of Grace

May this prayer help us when we struggle in our own Gethsemanes.

Islam & women piece: Seeking questions from my readers

“Why do you cover your hair? Do you have to?”

“You’ve never had a boyfriend. Will you ever date before you get married?”

“Why do you and the other girls stand behind men when you pray?  Why don’t women lead Friday prayers?”

“Muhammad had several wives.  Is polygamy still ok in Islam?”

Before coming to Georgetown, these are some of the questions that I had for Muslim women, but I didn’t have any way to get real and thoughtful answers.  I knew of a few women in my community, but not well enough that I felt I could talk to them about these deep and complex topics.

Sadly, for many Americans, this image defines their understanding of the relationship between Islam and women.

Despite the fact that we as Americans hear so much about “Islam” in the news, good resources about Islam and its female followers are hard to come by.  The only resources we have to guide our understanding about Muslim women are books like A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini (the author of The Kite Runner) and news articles like TIME’s recent cover story about abused Afghan women—accounts which are not representative of the lives lived by many American Muslim women.  The most important means for understanding—daily interaction with real people, in this case, Muslim women—is not something that most people have.  I didn’t have it either.

Since coming to Georgetown, I have fortunately had those daily connections that have helped me answer my questions about Islam and women.  Spending classroom time my Arabic professor and TA; meeting female leaders and mothers affiliated with the campus; and forming friendships with students have provided me with a perspective of Islam and women that I wouldn’t have possibly received by simply watching the news or reading popular fiction.

However, many other Americans still have many of the questions I did, and they lack the daily interactions that can help provide answers.

In order to remedy this in the smallest way, this winter a Muslim friend and I will be writing a joint piece for my blog about women and Islam.

Finn (left) and Sam (right) from Glee

It is this friend* who initially provided me with this interaction. During my first semester, we became instant friends and she is now one of the closest friends I’ve ever had.  In between watching hilarious Youtube clips and arguing over whether Sam from Glee has an awkwardly big mouth, we’ve spent a lot of time talking about what it means for her to be a Muslim women in America today.   She and I both think that her first person accounts can help give non-Muslim Americans a new, much-needed look into the lives and perspectives of Muslim women.

The piece (which will probably turn into a series of smaller pieces) will look like this:  I will organize a series of questions that my friend will respond to based on her personal experiences.  I will add any context that may be useful to a non-Muslim or Christian audience.

Because of our deep immersion in these topics, it is difficult for her and I to step back and identify what specific questions should drive the piece.  We don’t know what many Americans want and need to hear about.

This is where my readers come in.  What questions do you have?  Is there something you’ve heard relating to women and Islam that discomforts you or makes you curious?

I will be happy to receive any and all questions you may have.  To encourage you to ask whatever is on your mind, I will keep your questions anonymous when I use them in my piece.  Even my friend, who will be responding to the questions, will not know their origin.

So please do not worry about sounding insensitive, uninformed, or politically incorrect—all questions expressed respectfully are valid.  Meaningful and productive discussions require that we address all of our thoughts and questions.

If you know of a family member or friend who may have questions but who doesn’t read the blog, send them the link so they can submit a question.

My friend and I greatly appreciate your questions and support of this project.

My email address is jed56@georgetown.edu.  You can send me your questions there, or post them in the comments section of the blog.

*You probably noticed that I did not use my friend’s name in this post.  Because she doesn’t want her name floating around in the blogosphere, she has decided to work on this project under a pseudonym (we haven’t picked it yet).  Also, given the nature of this honest discussion and the increased hostility we’ve recently seen directed toward Muslims in America and Europe, this will allow her to respond without worrying whether her statements will be taken out of context and used against her later.