Yesterday morning, I sat on a bench in the park. It was early and quiet. There was room to breathe, look around, and pray: “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.”
This morning, I prayed those same words on my way to work. Then I arrived at the nonprofit where I do payroll, and the quiet gave way to deadlines, questions, and timesheets.
Someone had not submitted a timesheet on time. I had to be rather stern. People depend on getting paid, and I have a responsibility to do my work correctly. As tension and aggravation rose, I prayed again: “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.”
That prayer belongs at my desk just as surely as it belongs on the park bench.
I have enjoyed reading The Way of the Pilgrim and The Pilgrim Continues His Way. The Appendix offers guidance about faithful prayer, attention, and prayer of the heart. Yet its language and detailed spiritual disciplines have sometimes left me wondering how to carry that wisdom into the life I actually live.
I want to understand it. I also want to make it plain enough for someone who has to get up tomorrow and go to work.
Following Jesus does not call all of us to become monks, priests, or ascetics. Some of us repair cars. Some teach children. Some create art, prepare meals, care for family members, or process payroll. We need food, clothing, shelter, and one another’s labor.
So you have to work. How can the Jesus Prayer help you there?
Imagine a mechanic struggling with a bolt that will not move. Frustration rises. At a safe moment, the mechanic pauses: “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.” Then returns to the repair with a little more patience.
An upset customer comes in. Before answering, the mechanic prays inwardly: “Teach me to hear with wisdom and speak with love.” There may still be a difficult explanation to give. A boundary may still be necessary. But prayer can help shape how that conversation unfolds.
The mechanic’s careful work is itself a blessing. Someone depends on that car to get to work, buy groceries, or take a child to an appointment. An honest repair and a fair bill give love a practical expression.
A teacher can pray before welcoming students, then give them full attention. At my payroll desk, I can pray before responding to a problem, then check the figures carefully. We can bring our relationship with God into what we are doing.
Paul urged believers to pray without ceasing. He also told them to work with their hands (1 Thessalonians 5:17; 4:11–12). Those instructions belong together.
I cannot consciously repeat prayer words every moment while calculating wages or listening to someone. But my relationship with God continues while I attend to those responsibilities.
This is where prayer of the heart begins to make sense to me.
The Holy Spirit is at work within us, drawing our inward lives into relationship with God. Jesus speaks of abiding in him as branches abide in the vine (John 15:4–5). Paul tells us that the Spirit helps us even when we do not know how to pray (Romans 8:26).
In the language I have used before, I am “in the room”: living in the relationship where God’s sanctifying grace can keep changing me. That transformation takes a lifetime.
I do not first make myself patient, compassionate, and loving, then invite God to enter. I need God’s grace to become that person. My part is to remain open, listen, and respond in obedience.
The Jesus Prayer helps me return to that relationship. I have found myself opening its request for mercy into these words:
Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.
Teach me to see with compassion.
Teach me to hear with wisdom.
Teach me to speak with love.
Those words reach directly into my working day.
Seeing with compassion helps me remember that there is a person behind the late timesheet. Hearing with wisdom helps me understand what happened. Speaking with love helps me be firm without humiliating someone.
I may need to apologize, correct an error, or try again. God is still working on me.
Repetition can help me remember to turn toward Jesus. But the number of repetitions cannot tell me how deeply I am praying. I look also at what is growing in my life: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control—the fruit of the Spirit described in Galatians 5:22–23.
I receive the Appendix’s teaching with Scripture as my primary measure. Tradition, experience, and reason help me understand it. Its closing prayer acknowledges that both our intention and our doing come from God. I want that acknowledgment to illuminate all its instructions.
I am coming to see that my difficulty with the Appendix is partly a need for translation into everyday language. What does its wisdom look like with a wrench in my hand, a classroom before me, or a payroll deadline approaching?
It looks like returning to Jesus, receiving mercy, and allowing that mercy to shape the next thing I do.
The quiet bench nourishes my prayer. The working day gives that prayer places to bear fruit.
Where in your ordinary day might you pause and pray, “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me”? And how might that prayer shape your next response?
—The Curious Pilgrim
Source: The Way of the Pilgrim and The Pilgrim Continues His Way, author unknown, translated by Olga Savin, Shambhala, 2001. Appendix: “Three Keys to the Interior Treasure House of Prayer” and “The Teachings of the Holy Fathers on the Interior Prayer of the Heart,” pp. 187–241.
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