A beautiful echo from the prayers of the past

Last week, I was on a pilgrimage to the shrines of Mexico. As I prayed in each church, basilica, and cathedral, I discovered a new dimension of my faith.

Several of these 500-year-old buildings were built with sweeping Romanesque columns that pull the eyes toward heaven. I was inspired by the genius of the architects and the faith of the people who built these magnificent places of worship.

As I sat in each church, my senses came alive. I smelled a faint aroma of centuries of incense and beeswax candles. I saw remnants of the smoke giving the walls and ceilings an ancient hue. I loved the feel of the hardwood pews, polished to a gentle glow after years of use.

Beyond the art and architecture, beyond the sights and smells, there was something more. I activated another sense, like the ears of my heart. I could hear the echo of the thousands, maybe millions of prayers that people offered in these holy sites throughout the centuries.

Mexico has had its share of revolutions, floods, fires, and famines. These disproportionately affected the common people. Though they worked long, hard hours, they beautifully centered their lives around the nearby church. My mind couldn’t calculate how many prayers they offered in thanksgiving, lament, and petition. My heart, however, felt the echoes of each.

The psalmist suggested that prayers are like incense: “I have called to you, Lord; hasten to help me! Hear my voice when I cry to you. Let my prayer arise before you like incense.” (PS 141) Like incense that leaves a remnant aroma and a faint shadow on the walls, the prayers of these old churches seemed to offer something similar.

I took this heightened spiritual sense back to my parish. Before Mass, I prayed as people gathered in the pews. Instead of myself and God, I listened with the ‘ears of my heart’ to the prayers that the people around me might be offering. I knew some of their intentions and could guess at a few others. I couldn’t hear the words, but felt a much deeper connection to both God and to the body of Christ.

Lent is a season of prayer. In addition to your prayers, spend a little time listening with your heart to the prayers others might be offering. You won’t hear the words, but God knows, and can allow you to unite your heart with their joys and sorrows, triumphs and pain. Blessings on your Lent!

And the smoke of the incense,
with the prayers of the saints,
rose before God from the hand of the angel. (Rev 8:4)

Photo from the Capilla del Rosario, Puebla, Mexico