L’extrait d’évangile que nous venons d’entendre (Mt 6, 1-6, 16-18) semble
construit en trois moments identiques, trois enseignements respectivement sur
l’aumône, la prière et le jeûne. Si nous ouvrons le texte de Matthieu, le volet
sur la prière se distingue pourtant des deux autres. Il n’est pas structurée
par la seule opposition entre une manière de faire, celle des hypocrites, et ce
à quoi Jésus invite, reposant sur le secret, disons la discrétion, parce que,
comme le dit la conclusion en refrain, « ton Père qui voit dans le secret te
le rendra. »
Le volet sur la prière connaît une excroissance dont on ne
sait pourquoi la liturgie nous prive. Et voici ce qu’on lit : « Dans
vos prières, ne rabâchez pas comme les païens : ils s’imaginent qu’en
parlant beaucoup ils se feront mieux écouter. N’allez pas faire comme eux ;
car votre Père sait bien ce qu’il vous faut, avant que vous le lui demandiez. Vous
donc, priez ainsi : Notre Père qui es dans les cieux, que ton Nom soit
sanctifié, que ton Règne vienne, que ta volonté soit faite sur la terre comme
au ciel. Donne-nous aujourd’hui notre pain quotidien. Remets-nous nos dettes
comme nous-mêmes avons remis à nos débiteurs. Et ne nous soumets pas à la
tentation ; mais délivre-nous du Mauvais. Oui, si vous remettez aux hommes
leurs manquements votre Père céleste vous remettra aussi ; mais si vous ne
remettez pas aux hommes, votre Père non plus ne vous remettra pas vos
manquements. »
La prière n’est pas un acte public ; pas de prières de
rue ni même de prières ostensibles dans les lieux d’étude de la parole divine
et de rassemblement des croyants. Peut-être pour entendre cela, faut-il se
souvenir que le culte, dans l’Antiquité, a une valeur publique, civile. La
pratique religieuse est un acte citoyen au sens où il étaye la cité, la
société. Il tient les personnes dans des règles qui permettent de vivre
ensemble.
Certes, pour nous, il n’en va plus ainsi. Pourtant, nombreux
sont ceux qui regrettent ce rôle de la religion dans la société voire
expliquent le mal de la société actuelle par la disparition ou l’exclusion de
sa dimension religieuse. Mais c’est Jésus lui-même qui privatise la prière, la
renvoyant à la chambre, au secret. Ce n’est pas la laïcité qui chasse la prière
de la cité ou de l’espace public, c’est Jésus lui-même.
Est-ce à dire qu’il n’y aurait pas de sens à prier ensemble,
à plusieurs, comme en ce moment ? Le texte n’en dit rien si ce n’est que
la prière enseignée ne peut se dire autrement qu’au pluriel, Notre père. Un Notre père qui tranche avec le ton
père voit dans le secret. Ainsi donc, même en assemblée ‑ et comment
les membres de l’Eglise ne seraient-ils pas assemblée – la prière ne peut
être manifestation publique, qu’il s’agisse de la religion civile ou d’une
démonstration de présence, de visibilité ou de puissance.
Disons-le autrement, la prière ne peut être instrumentalisée.
Elle est un but et ne peut servir. Elle ne sert à rien ou se perd. On ne prie
pas pour construire la société, pour manifester ostensiblement l’importance
que l’on accorde à la foi, pour se
faire entendre politiquement, etc. La prière est la gratuité dont témoigne le secret
de la chambre et le cœur du Père.
Je retiens un second trait de l’enseignement de Jésus. La
prière, ce ne sont pas des prières. Prier, ce n’est pas réciter des prières ou
multiplier les paroles, comme les païens qui rabâchent. Prier, c’est tâcher de
se tenir en présence de Notre Père.
Il n’y a rien à faire dans la prière. Les rites, les prières ne sont pas la
prière, au mieux ce qui la guide, au pire, ce qui s’y substitue. Prier n’est
pas accomplir un rite ni pratiquer. Prier, c’est se retirer (dans la chambre),
fermer la porte sur les activités. Prier, c’est le temps de la passivité,
lorsque l’époux pénètre dans la chambre et que l’on se fait accueil seulement,
réception, réponse.
Se tenir devant lui. C’est tout. Le laisser venir pour
demeurer en sa présence ; mieux, se rendre à son absence pour désirer sa
présence. Combien de pensées nous assaillent, nous occupent, nous distraient.
Les mots de la prière viendront nous recentrer, Notre Père. Ces deux seuls mots suffiront ; parfois il en faudra
un peu plus. Mais le but n’est pas de réciter le Notre Père comme une prière que des païens rabâcheraient, mais de
se reposer, au deux sens du mot, devant, dans et sur le Seigneur.
Pour qui ne sait pas faire, dix secondes de temps en temps,
dans la journée, seront un bon chemin d’apprentissage. Ensuite, il faudra sans
doute passer bien des heures à se faire suer, à désespérer. Puis, quand même le
fait d’y arriver ou pas n’importera plus, parce que le secret de la prière est
secret pour celui qui prie d’abord, on persévérera devant Notre Père, quoi qu’il arrive. Notre
Père…
Traduction JF Garneau
The gospel extract that is proclaimed, on Ash Wednesday, seems to be constructed in three identical moments, three teachings, respectively on alms, on prayer, and on fasting.
To be sure, if we read Matthew’s full text, the part on prayer is somewhat different from the other two. It is not only structured by an opposition between the way hypocrites do things and what Jesus asks us to do (which rests on secrecy or, better put, discretion because, as the conclusion that comes as a refrain says, "your Father Who sees in secret will reward you for this."
No. The section on prayer has an additional section of which we do not know why the liturgy deprives us. And this is what we read in that unproclaimed section: "In your prayers, do not rehearse like the Gentiles: they imagine that by speaking a lot they will be listened to better. Do not do as they do; For your Father knows full well what you need before you even start asking Him. So pray thus: Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us today our daily bread. Forgive us our debts as we forgive our own debtors. And do not submit us to temptation; But deliver us from the Evil One. Yea, if ye forgive men their failings, then your heavenly Father will forgive you as well; But if you do not forgive men what they owe you, then your Father will not forgive you your failings either."
Prayer is not a public act; no street prayers are to be held, nor even ostensible prayers in the places of study of the divine word or at the beginning of a gathering of believers. To understand this passage, it might be good to remember that worship, in Antiquity, had a public, civic value. Religious practice was a civic act in the sense that it supported the city, society. It provided common rituals and common values to the people, thus allowing them to live together.
It is certainly no longer thus, for us. Yet many people regret that role which religion can have in society, and even explain a big part of the failings of today's society by the disappearance or exclusion from the public realm of its religious dimension. But it is Jesus himself who privatized prayer, returning it to the privacy of one’s bedroom, to secrecy even. It is not secularism that chases prayer out of the public realm, it is Jesus himself.
Does this mean that it would be meaningless to pray together, as the people attending the Ash Wednesday celebration will be doing? The text does not say anything on this, except for the fact that the prayer taught can not be said otherwise than in the first person plural, Our Father. An “Our father” [Matthew 6:9] which contrasts with the “thy Father” who sees you in secret [of Matthew 6:6]. Thus, even in public assemblies –and how could we not call an assembly the gathering that the members of the Church do at mass—prayer can not be a public manifestation, whether of civil religion, of Christian visibility, let alone of Christian social might.
Let us put it differently, prayer can not be instrumentalized. It is itself the goal and can not be reduced to the realm of means. It is without practical use or is no longer prayer. One should not pray to build togetherness among us, to show others the importance that we attach to faith, to make ourselves heard politically, etc. For prayer is the gratuitous gratitude that gratiously graced men bear witness to, in the secret of the bedroom and of their heart towards a Father that is theirs alone [THY Father, in Matthew 6:6] while being all at the same time [OUR Father, in Matthew 6:9].
And here’s a second feature of Jesus’ teaching. Praying is not about reciting prayers. To pray is not to multiply words, like those Pagans who go through the incessant repeats of mantras or formulas. To pray is to try and stand in the presence of Our Father. There is nothing to be done in prayer. Rites and prayer formulas are not praying, at their best, they guide us to it, at their worst, they substitute themselves for it. Praying is not a ritual or a practice. Praying consists in retiring one self (in one’s room), in closing one’s door on one’s busyness. To pray is to make time for passivity, for that moment when the bridegroom enters the room and we make ourselves pure welcome, pure receiving, pure answering [pure “Fiat!”].
To stand in front of Him. That's all that is asked of us in prayer. To let him come and to dwell in His presence” Better still: To go to his absence and desire his presence! How many thoughts assail us, occupy us, and distract us when we try to stand in that place. The words of prayer formulas will come handy at such time to help refocus us on the task at hand, which is to be in the reciprocal real presence of our selves to the Our Father. These last two words alone should suffice most of the time. Sometimes it will take a little more. But the purpose is not to recite the Our Father as a mantra, like Pagans might do, but to rest at the same time in front of, on, and in the Lord.
For those who do not know how to do this, ten seconds from time to time, during the day, will be a good learning path. Then, it will probably involve many hours of practice, not all of them easy and some of them putting in question the usefulness of it all. But then will come the time when even the fact of succeeding or not at prayer will no longer matter, because the secrecy of prayer [if it is to be secrecy at all] implies being secret also for the one who prays, one shall therefore persevere before Our Father, whatever happens. Our Father…
Traduction JF Garneau
The gospel extract that is proclaimed, on Ash Wednesday, seems to be constructed in three identical moments, three teachings, respectively on alms, on prayer, and on fasting.
To be sure, if we read Matthew’s full text, the part on prayer is somewhat different from the other two. It is not only structured by an opposition between the way hypocrites do things and what Jesus asks us to do (which rests on secrecy or, better put, discretion because, as the conclusion that comes as a refrain says, "your Father Who sees in secret will reward you for this."
No. The section on prayer has an additional section of which we do not know why the liturgy deprives us. And this is what we read in that unproclaimed section: "In your prayers, do not rehearse like the Gentiles: they imagine that by speaking a lot they will be listened to better. Do not do as they do; For your Father knows full well what you need before you even start asking Him. So pray thus: Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us today our daily bread. Forgive us our debts as we forgive our own debtors. And do not submit us to temptation; But deliver us from the Evil One. Yea, if ye forgive men their failings, then your heavenly Father will forgive you as well; But if you do not forgive men what they owe you, then your Father will not forgive you your failings either."
Prayer is not a public act; no street prayers are to be held, nor even ostensible prayers in the places of study of the divine word or at the beginning of a gathering of believers. To understand this passage, it might be good to remember that worship, in Antiquity, had a public, civic value. Religious practice was a civic act in the sense that it supported the city, society. It provided common rituals and common values to the people, thus allowing them to live together.
It is certainly no longer thus, for us. Yet many people regret that role which religion can have in society, and even explain a big part of the failings of today's society by the disappearance or exclusion from the public realm of its religious dimension. But it is Jesus himself who privatized prayer, returning it to the privacy of one’s bedroom, to secrecy even. It is not secularism that chases prayer out of the public realm, it is Jesus himself.
Does this mean that it would be meaningless to pray together, as the people attending the Ash Wednesday celebration will be doing? The text does not say anything on this, except for the fact that the prayer taught can not be said otherwise than in the first person plural, Our Father. An “Our father” [Matthew 6:9] which contrasts with the “thy Father” who sees you in secret [of Matthew 6:6]. Thus, even in public assemblies –and how could we not call an assembly the gathering that the members of the Church do at mass—prayer can not be a public manifestation, whether of civil religion, of Christian visibility, let alone of Christian social might.
Let us put it differently, prayer can not be instrumentalized. It is itself the goal and can not be reduced to the realm of means. It is without practical use or is no longer prayer. One should not pray to build togetherness among us, to show others the importance that we attach to faith, to make ourselves heard politically, etc. For prayer is the gratuitous gratitude that gratiously graced men bear witness to, in the secret of the bedroom and of their heart towards a Father that is theirs alone [THY Father, in Matthew 6:6] while being all at the same time [OUR Father, in Matthew 6:9].
And here’s a second feature of Jesus’ teaching. Praying is not about reciting prayers. To pray is not to multiply words, like those Pagans who go through the incessant repeats of mantras or formulas. To pray is to try and stand in the presence of Our Father. There is nothing to be done in prayer. Rites and prayer formulas are not praying, at their best, they guide us to it, at their worst, they substitute themselves for it. Praying is not a ritual or a practice. Praying consists in retiring one self (in one’s room), in closing one’s door on one’s busyness. To pray is to make time for passivity, for that moment when the bridegroom enters the room and we make ourselves pure welcome, pure receiving, pure answering [pure “Fiat!”].
To stand in front of Him. That's all that is asked of us in prayer. To let him come and to dwell in His presence” Better still: To go to his absence and desire his presence! How many thoughts assail us, occupy us, and distract us when we try to stand in that place. The words of prayer formulas will come handy at such time to help refocus us on the task at hand, which is to be in the reciprocal real presence of our selves to the Our Father. These last two words alone should suffice most of the time. Sometimes it will take a little more. But the purpose is not to recite the Our Father as a mantra, like Pagans might do, but to rest at the same time in front of, on, and in the Lord.
For those who do not know how to do this, ten seconds from time to time, during the day, will be a good learning path. Then, it will probably involve many hours of practice, not all of them easy and some of them putting in question the usefulness of it all. But then will come the time when even the fact of succeeding or not at prayer will no longer matter, because the secrecy of prayer [if it is to be secrecy at all] implies being secret also for the one who prays, one shall therefore persevere before Our Father, whatever happens. Our Father…
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