As my sixteenth birthday approached, I began to plan what I wanted in my dream car.  Forget that I didn’t have a job or money, I knew what I wanted for my car.  Perhaps more thought went into the sound system than more practical things like seats, airbags, anti-lock brakes, etc.  I enjoyed going into the local car audio store and looking at the speakers.  The store had an entire wall full of speakers.  Anytime there weren’t other people in the store I would turn different types of music on each of the speakers on the wall and just immerse myself in the cacophony of noise that was so loud it would probably make me go deaf now.  Each time, I would get a glare from one of the staff members and I would begin to turn the music down on each speaker and eventually I would turn it off.  One time I remember turning off all the music except a single speaker in the bottom left hand corner of the wall.  Once all the other music and noise was gone, I was finally able to hear that individual speaker and found that it was playing one of my favorite songs, I just was unable, initially, to hear it amidst all the other music.  I enjoyed the other songs playing, but realized that I really enjoyed this one particular song that I didn’t even realize was playing at first.

I tell this story to illustrate a point about many of think of prayer, myself included.  I find that when I sit down to pray, thoughts, images, stories begin to flood my mind in ways and with an intensity that they simply don’t have during other moments in the day.  The stories, thoughts, images, and whatnot that come to my mind are not bad and are often of very good, or very important things.  But they serve the purpose of being the large speakers blocking out that seemingly insignificant speaker on the bottom left that is playing what I truly want, need, and desire to hear.  The voice of Jesus Christ speaking to me is coming out of that speaker off to the side that I didn’t notice at first—that needs the other speakers to be turned off to be heard; in short, needs silence to hear.  

Silence in prayer is vital.  One of the most arresting passages in scripture comes in in First Kings chapter 19, which reads

Then the Lord said: Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord; the Lord will pass by. There was a strong and violent wind rending the mountains and crushing rocks before the Lord—but the Lord was not in the wind; after the wind, an earthquake—but the Lord was not in the earthquake; after the earthquake, fire—but the Lord was not in the fire; after the fire, a light silent sound. When he heard this, Elijah hid his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. A voice said to him, Why are you here, Elijah?”  (1 Kings 19:11-13)  

We are often like Elijah, witnessing loud explosions in our lives and looking for that voice of God to speak to us through these events.  But it isn’t until we realize that it is in the silence that God speaks to us that we begin to make progress.  But creating this silence in order to hear the voice of God takes time, takes energy, takes time, and takes practice.  And, at least for me, is VERY difficult.  I very rarely succeed at it.

This is where the words of Christ to his apostles strike me--“watch and pray.”  The words are not watch, pray, and succeed.  They are not watch, pray, and hear the voice of Christ.  They are simply watch and pray.  This is what we are asked to do; this is what I am asked to do; this is what I find so difficult to do when I don’t seemingly see any results.  But results are not my mission; this is my mission, my invitation from Christ to be present, and the invitation to presences that He has given to all his followers. An invitation to watch and pray.  

I often fall into the trap of trying to figure out how successful my prayer time has been.  Did I hear what I think is the word of God speaking to me?  Did I have a breakthrough moment?  Is my face now shining ala Moses coming down from the mountain?  But what ruler am I using to measure success in prayer?  Is prayer really about how it makes me feel, about what I get out of it; or is it rather about giving God the time to do what He wants?  When I get to this point the words of St. Theresa of Calcutta come to me: “God has not called us to be successful but faithful.”  My success should be measured in faithfulness.  Faithfulness to prayer, faithfulness to charity, faithfulness to the teachings of the Church.  Regardless of how I feel, or how I think I feel, after prayer, the most important thing is that I actually did it—that I took the time to “watch and pray.” For if we fail to take the time to watch and pray, when that voice in the silence after the earthquakes, fires, and loudness of life comes, we won’t hear it.  And if we don’t hear it, we can’t respond to it.  And wouldn’t that be a shame: to be called by God and not hear it because we weren’t listening.  So, it behooves us to do just that: watch, pray, and listen.