Prayerful Solitude

A few days ago, Fr. Charles wrote a post about sitting in the dark in a church praying vespers, and quoted a passage from Thomas Merton.

I've been turning this over in my mind for the last few days, for, I, too, have have some profound moments alone with God in darkened churches.

I've written before of my work in college, locking up in the wee hours, and entering the little campus chapel. That chapel was so warm and inviting (especially on those frigid winter nights!) that I always wanted to pause, and just...be. I wasn't practicing my faith at the time, but recognize, in hindsight, the consolations of grace in those moments, drawing me into the presence of Christ, right there in the silent intimacy of the chapel.

As an adult, those moments have not ceased, and I have had to flee even the Adoration chapel and head for the Church to pass time with Christ hidden in the tabernacle. It didn't matter to me that the Blessed Sacrament was not exposed, for He is still just as present, just as available...just as loving. There, away from the eyes of others, there have been times where I literally would sit at His feet, somtimes lying face -down in prayer, something I can't seem to do when there are other people around. There is freedom in solitude.

Even now, at work, I often go into the church instead of the Adoration Chapel, choosing to pray the Divine Office there, alone, rather than in the company of others. The darkness seems to, in a way, foster prayer and aid me in focusing on the words, the intentions, and the reality of the participation of the entire Church as I quietly utter the psalms.

You may want to go to Father's post and read what he has to say...he and Thomas Merton express it better than I ever could.