Waiting for the echo when you pray
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Is it possible to pray rapidly without injuring the effect of the prayer? It is possible to those who have learned to pray inwardly with a pure heart. During prayer, it is necessary that your heart should sincerely desire that which you ask for, should feel the truth of what you are saying, and this comes naturally to a pure heart. That is why it is capable of praying even rapidly, and at the same time agreeably, to God, as the rapidity in this case does not injure the truth (sincerity) of the prayer.
But for those who have not attained the capability of praying sincerely, it is necessary to pray slowly, waiting for a corresponding echo in the heart to each word of the prayer. And this is not always soon given to men unaccustomed to prayerful contemplation.
Therefore, for such men, it must be laid down as an absolute rule to pronounce the words of the prayer slowly, and with pauses. Wait until every word gives back its corresponding echo in your heart.
ST. JOHN OF KRONSTADT
“My Life in Christ”I have been at services where the priest says the prayers as if they were the legal disclaimer at the end of a 30-second radio spot. What can you say? It’s not nice to fuss at your clergy, (though I gather a lot of people do it anyway). But I don’t know how I’m supposed to hear anything when a priest says, “oheavenlykingocomforterspiritofgodwhoartinallplacesandfillestallthings [breath!] …” etc. And I understand that I’m not always supposed to be really hearing and attending to them — part of the reason, I suppose, that certain parts of the services are set off by the priest saying “Let us attend!”
But at the times that I am supposed to be hearing … what’s our rush? I’m not saying a person couldn’t err in the opposite direction — the service is long enough already without a priest whose idea of “pronouncing the words” (as St. John puts it above) is as if we are learning English phrases phonetically and each phoneme needs to be lovingly crafted.
In both cases, I think it might be a case such as St. John describes above. I’m going to assume that our priests are so very familiar with every word of these prayers that they are already written on their heart and saying them rabbit-fast or tortoise-slow is just incidental to them. But I love what St. John is saying here, and it seems consistent with St. Paul’s advice to those who fast. A person who is more advanced in the faith might just need to stoop to the level of someone who is more of a beginner. Since I’m a beginner, I want to hear the words. I want that corresponding echo in my heart.
Lest I sound like I’m picking on the clergy, I can think of two other people who need to hear this. The first is the chanter. Those who do Russian-style monotone chanting sometimes whip through these things as if they’re reading the ingredients of a highly processed food. And those who do Byzantine chant, unfortunately, are sometimes in such heaven with their own vocal embroidery that I haven’t a clue what they’re saying. I don’t mind if it’s something like “Lord, I Have Cried,” because then I know what the words are. But there are Byzantine purists that seem to think the intent of chanting is to chant ambitiously rather than to impart meaning to the uneducated. Again, since *I* am uneducated, I am always sorry when they do. I would give up seven or eight minutes of perfect Tone 7 sticheraric acrobatics for one minute of hearing the clear teaching of the Church.
The second person who needs to consider St. John’s advice is me. I occasionally read prayers in church and occasionally chant, so I can consider those occasions in the light of what St. John says. But I say my own prayers every day, and again … what’s my rush? After so many years, I know the words to my daily prayers so well I can do them when I’m barely awake, but I don’t know how many times I’ve gotten halfway through and wondered if I left one out or not, because I wasn’t really listening. Can I stand to “pronounce the words” each day? Can I wait until the echo of each one comes back to my heart?
I think about a piece of advice I heard from a vocal coach. I was in a large choral group, and we had been going over and over the same song — even the same portion of the song — time after time until there was no meaning in it. He upbraided us for that. He said, “Never sing a note you don’t mean.”
Never sing a note you don’t mean.
That’s actually part of the reason I got out of secular choral groups like that. It’s lovely advice, but I don’t want to put that much of my heart’s blood into songs about the moon in June and whatnot. On the other hand, I need to put that heart’s blood where it belongs. We all do. And when I do, it’s true, I think every word could echo in my soul.
Related posts:
- St. John of Kronstadt, on prayer
- Gratitude and Fr. John
- Feel the truth
- About meditation
- Rain, rain, go away. Because we need a place to pray.


5 Responses and Counting...
Amen
So it’s not just me.….
I have yet to figure out how to get the prayer out of my mouth/head and into my heart. I read about the nous, but I can’t seem to find it.
If I pray slowly — thinking every word — I wonder if I am thinking to hard to allow it to descend to my nous. If I pray quickly, I wonder if I am not giving proper care — am I in a hurry to be finished. When I say the Jesus prayer I wonder if it is just getting to be rote — that mindless vain repetition that the Protestants are always warning about. And when I resort to my spontaneous “talk to God like He is right here” Protestant method of prayer, I feel like I’m not doing it “right” by not following the “rule” of the prayer book.
I think that prayer life has been my biggest problem since becoming Orthodox. I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing anymore. And no book seems to be able to help!
Amen.
Good meditation. I remember my first impression of the Orthodox Vespers service and was a bit scandalized by the seemingly insincere rapid prayers of the priest. I thought, “Did he really mean it?”. And now, I find myself sometimes rushing through prayers, and sometimes it is mindless, but other times I sense that I am in a spirit of prayer — the whole thing is sort of a “being present to God” kind of attitude. I love it when that happens, but then, like Grace, I sometimes wonder if I have already prayed the Lord’s prayer, and if I find myself thinking that, I go ahead and pray it anyway since I obviously wasn’t really praying it anyway the first time.
When I am in the chanter’s stand, though, I feel a responsibility to be clear so that I am leading others in prayer and worship, so I try not to rush it, but I also try to keep it moving without compromising clarity.
I ended up thinking about this for a while. I so hear you on the instructive technique discussions of how to pray. I think they end up very involved and complex-sounding, partly because it’s the kind of stuff that ideally would go without saying. I have never felt like I really got the whole thing with the nous … but that’s a topic for another blogpost.