Praying for change

I've been going to St. Procopius Benedictine Abbey for spiritual retreats off and on now since the mid-1990s. At first, I was pretty regimented about the whole process. I'd follow a strict guideline of when to pray, when to read, and when to attend prayer and worship with the monks. I don't regret that way of going about it because I think it helped me get accustomed to actually going on a spiritual retreat. With experience, though, I've cut myself much more slack. If I feel like reading, I read. If I feel like praying, I pray. If I feel like napping, I nap. If I feel like going for a walk, I head outside. I still attend all the communal opportunities for prayer and worship (there are four a day), but I now go into each retreat not really sure what will come out of it. Usually a verse or theme emerges.

One of the things I like about St. Procopius is that nothing much changes. The same monks are here, the same schedule is pretty much kept, and I stay in the same room. It's been more than a year since I last came out here, though, and change is happening. Seven monks died in 2009, including two I knew somewhat well. Father Thomas, the guest master (think of him as the concierge of St. Procopius), who always seemed ageless to me, is also slowing down a bit.

It struck me this morning that "change" would emerge as the theme of this retreat. Not just my observation of change taking place here at the abbey, but the change that needs to always take place within me. This isn't a novel revelation, but I realize that I've been spending way too much time lately wanting other people to change to adjust to my wants and needs and way too little time praying for a changed heart within me.

That can be a daunting prayer: I'm ready for my heart-my life-to change, O God. Eugene Peterson notes, "Be slow to pray. Praying puts us at risk of getting involved with God's conditions...Praying most often does get us what we want but what God wants, something quite at variance with what we conceive to be in our best interests. And when we realize what is going on, it is often too late to go back."

It's a risky prayer, to be sure. But I kind of like where this prayer is leading me during this Lenten season.