With so much time spent in prayer, there's a danger of prayer becoming dull. Some days it feels like the words in the Breviary run together, or sometimes I can sit through the Office of Readings and not really "hear" anything said. There are times when I think I can recite the Benedictus in my sleep.

The danger I worry about is letting prayer become something other than communication towards God. If I don't actively take charge of my prayer life, prayer becomes a chore rather than a gift.

One of the prayers I've worked hard to keep is the Confiteor. With a Penitential Act each morning and Examination of Conscience each evening, there are plenty of opportunities to recite the Confiteor. For those of you unfamiliar with the Roman Catholic liturgy, it often goes like this:

I confess, to Almighty God
and you, my brothers and sisters*
that I have sinned through my own fault.
In my thoughts and in my words
in what I have done
and what I have failed to do.
And I ask the Blessed Mary ever Virgin
All the Angels and Saints
and you, my brothers and sisters
to pray for me to the Lord our God.

*(since we're a men's community, we only say "brothers.")

Living in such a small and intentional community as the Novitiate House here in Allison Park, I soon realized that there were few occassions of sin that didn't in some way involve one of the other guys I lived with. Whether it was getting upset, forgetting a commitment, etc., being here meant that we were the Recipient as well as the Donor of less-than-brotherly interaction (a nice way of saying what I really mean). Nevertheless, in the beginning or the end of the day, our plea to God to forgive our sins was said in unison with those whom we sinned against. It was a stark difference from being in a church, where I felt it was just me talking to God about my faults.

Recognizing this, I didn't want the Confiteor to be lip service. If I wanted to honestly confess to my brothers that I had sinned, I realized I'd have to do a lot more than just recite the prayer. I found it almost hypocritical to stand across the chapel and see someone whom I was having issues with, asking for their prayers.

Not wanting to think my prayers as hypocritical, I did something the next night that changed my entire prayer experience of the Examination of Conscience...

...I looked the other guys in the eyes as I talked about my faults.

Ordinarily one wouldn't think that reciting a prayer while looking at another would be a huge issue. In prayers of thanksgiving, petition, and blessing, we often look at the focus of our prayer - whether it's the meal we're about to eat, the person in the hospital bead, or the couple that's been married for 50+ years. Looking and praying isn't beyond our capabilities.

But I looked at my brothers as I told them how I had sinned by my own fault. I realize that God is the one who forgives, yet there is a humbling sense to admit fault and wrongdoing to another person. And when the prayer had finished, I wondered why I felt more embarassed to express my shortcomings to my brothers than to my Creator..."whom I should love above all things."

Understanding how I present my sins to God soon became a topic for contemplative meditation. Recognizing God's over-abundant love and grace, I wanted to understand how I could better open myself, in a sense of humility and love, to that love and grace. I realized that this question arose out of a desire 1. to connect at a deeper level with my prayer and 2. to build a better relationship with my brothers, even when I wanted to put bleach in their laundry! (just kidding guys...I know you read this too!)

With those thoughts, I continued this practice of looking at the other friars during the Confiteor -acknowledging my failings and asking for their prayers for me. It was (and still is) a humbling experience, but I soon realized I wasn't alone in this slightly unnerving practice. As I exchanged glances with the other friars, they would look away, look down, or close their eyes - probably experiencing some of those same anxieties as I was.

Yet as time has progressed, I can see that others have picked up on what I'm doing, and are mindful to look back at me. I see it as a testimony of how willfully entering into the experience of prayer can effect others. I don't know that it's cause me less occassions to sin, but I realize that I'm willing to be open and honest to my brothers and to my God about what errors I've made - an important task in a Religious Order that looks so much for transparency.

Thanks to the other guys for posing for me!

Once a month we have "days of reflection" here at Novitiate. While the entire experience is actually a year-long span of reflection and discernment, these particular days are like mini-retreats when we're given specific topics to think about and incorporate into our faith journies as we become Capuchins. We have guest speakers come in; it's importance to the program is such that all other activities are put aside during these days.

I've experienced reflection days when I was a Postulant. During Advent and Lent, our friary in Milwaukee got together with the other formation house from Chicago. It was a great time, however the opportunity for the houses to get together sometimes  became excuses for us to catch up and have fun rather than just focusing on the reflection time.

This past Monday was our first Day of Reflection here. We had Fr. John Pavlik come and talk to us. John is the provincial minister for the St. Augustine (sometimes called the Pittsburgh) province. And while the spirit of the event was light, there was definitely plenty to think about.

One if his points was the ability to look back on our reasons for choosing to become Capuchins. Each of the us have our reasons for being here in Allison Park. And while the year of seclusion continues, and nerves start to grate on each one another and people learn the true meaning of "living in community," there is an importance to be true to our vocations.

The challenge he gave us was this: there are three main reasons why we chose to join the Capuchins versus another Order or the diocese. Our task was to find those reasons and to keep them in our prayers. He told us how his three reasons got him through tough times as a friar, and kept his focus on why he was a friar instead of letting other things tear him apart.

It was a great insight for me to reflect on. Usually I choose to stay busy, fill my day with lots of tasks, and set goals that I try to achieve (the remnants of my life as a salesman). But at times my work and my life have felt empty...leaving me to wonder why I'm even pursuing this vocation. Remembering that I am not doing this for me, but because I felt the task of doing something for others puts things in perspective.

So while the use of three things seems as simple-minded as Curly's one thing, there is wisdom in the simplicity of this reflection. Whether it be a vocation like mine, or a long-term relationship, a marriage, or a career, there are times when we get into "the rut." We get overwhelmed with the daily tasks of living our lives; sometimes we forget those monumental and earth-shattering moments that brought us to where we are. While I've never been married or had my own children, I know how easy it is to forget about the love that existed at the beginning of a relationship. I know what it feels like to wake up and wonder: "What am I doing here?" Like any other committment, a vocation must be renewed continuously; each day I must choose to be here-living my life as a friar.

Someone great (although she'd humbly tell you otherwise) once told me that these memories are like pebbles: pebbles that can be easily lost or forgotten. The key is to keep those pebbles in our pocket; to shine them and touch them and know every ridge and smooth surface. If we can keep those pebbles of our memories close to us, and readily available whenever we need them, not only can they remind us why we are on our journey, but we might even leave a trail as a guide for others.

Flickr photos from Ben and rph10uk