Letting the Holy Spirit find words Wis 12:13, 16-19; Ps 86:5-6, 9-10, 15-16; Rom 8:26-27; Mt 13:24-43 All of us find ourselves at a loss for words at times. What words of comfort can we offer to parents who have experienced the sudden death of their infant child? How do we adequately thank a person who has helped us at a time when we were in dire need? How can we offer support to a young athlete who has suffered an injury that ended a promising career just as it was beginning? What do we say to a husband who is losing contact with his wife as her Alzheimer’s disease is progressing? Yes, there are situations in life when words just fail us. For some of us, that feeling of inadequacy extends to our time at prayer. How do we find the right words? In any case, does God not know how we are feeling, what we need? What can we possibly tell God about ourselves and the circumstances of our lives that God does not know? Some people find the solution by choosing to pray using formulas such as the Lord’s Prayer, the Hail Mary or the rosary. During our common worship, we use formal prayers. The prayers we say at Mass are prescribed for us. They are general enough that they can speak for all of us. In addition to communal, liturgical prayer, private individual prayer should be a part of our life with God. But what do we say during our private, individual prayer? How can we adequately express to God what is in our minds and hearts? Does our prayer sound like gibberish to God? In this Sunday’s reading from Romans, St. Paul tells us not to worry about words when we pray. We do not have to be concerned about impressing God or giving God information about our lives. All we need do is place ourselves in God’s presence and allow the Spirit to “come to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought … but the Spirit … intercedes with inexpressible groanings” (Rom 8:25-26). The Spirit takes our gibberish and presents it to God as intelligible speech. The time we devote to private, individual prayer ought to be a time of peace, not a struggle to find the right words. We do not have to come up with the right words — the Spirit does that for us. We should allow the Spirit within us to speak for us. During the Last Supper, Jesus spoke of the Spirit as an “advocate” (Jn 15:26). Paul does not use this word, but he does describe the Spirit’s advocacy. The Spirit takes our inarticulate prayers and presents them lucidly to God. Physicians and psychologists tell us that a quiet time, a time set aside for reflection, has benefits for our physical and psychological well-being. They tell us it lowers our blood pressure and enables us to better cope with stress. Masters of the spiritual life tell us that private, individual prayer ought to be a component of our life with God. The time we devote to quiet and reflective prayer, then, helps us on many levels. We received the gift of the Spirit at our baptism. The Spirit is within us, praying for us. Our prayer time is a participation in the life of the Trinity. We pray in the name of Jesus. The Spirit transforms our prayer when presenting that prayer to God. As we begin to set aside some time to pray each day, we need not worry about what to say. We are content simply to be in God’s presence and let the Spirit speak for us. The Spirit is never at a loss for words. This Sunday’s Gospel recounts the parable of the wheat and the weeds. The farmer in this story is not willing to pull out the weeds that are growing in his wheat field. The farmer chooses to wait until harvest time, when the wheat and weeds can be separated safely. To ensure a good harvest, the farmer must be patient. God waits for us to make the choices that allow us to become the kind of people God created us to be. No one can make these choices for us — not even God, who must wait for us. The parable tells us that God is willing to wait.
About the Author Father Leslie Hoppe, OFM, is professor emeritus of Old Testament Studies at Catholic Theological Union, 5416 S. Cornell Ave., Chicago.