How can the life and example of a 13th Century man acclaimed as a saint have anything helpful to say to the 21st Century seeker? In an age of religious pluralism, climate crisis and Christian nationalism the teachings of the Franciscan tradition on prayer are a benchmark of sanity. Simon Cocksedge and Nicholas Alan Worssam, devout Franciscans, write in a lucid and accessible style in Becoming Prayer of the challenges and delights of prayer as St. Francis practiced and lived it. But their attention is clearly focused on how modern Christians can find a way to a personal and fulfilling relationship with God. This book highlights the practical and pastoral approach of Francis and his followers. Prompted by the appeals of many people to learn how to pray, Cocksedge and Worssam offer suggestions and examples from the Franciscan tradition. Each reader will have their concerns and particular attractions and challenges in prayer. This book does not claim an all or nothing approach. Prayer is a godly adventure and each of us need to discover a way that works. But with humility every chapter makes some common-sense observations, often directly from Francis or one of his followers, that can surprise and appeal to one who seeks something other than an asseverating treatise on discipline.
As with any meaningful relationship, prayer doesn’t just happen; one must devote time to it on a regular basis. But distractions, inner disturbances and plain incomprehension are the topics Franciscans have faced all along, and the authors show how Francis approached these sensibly. It was never about being perfect or particularly professional at prayer. Francis sought out God through love for him. Nothing, it seemed, could get between him and the Lord. Interruptions? Deal with them and continue your prayer as soon as possible. Illiterate? Repeatedly recite a simple prayer. On the road and unable to pray in the friary? Pray where you are. With admirable nimbleness of approach, they developed portable prayer books (breviaries) that enabled the brothers to pause in a quiet place and say their prayers. The practices of saying prayers, keeping regular times of prayer, were grounded in a deep desire to turn their lives and wills over to God. For Francis and his followers, through the ages, the Scriptures have given them a vocabulary to articulate this desire. Francis used Scripture in his writings: prayers, letters and even the various iterations of the Rule. His writings often draw on many passages of Scripture as he makes his point. Familiarity with the Bible was not a way to preempt creative thinking or compassionate action. It was the cause of it. Repeatedly Francis emphasized the texts teaching peace, joy, love, hope. Ultimately, he was able to leave Scripture behind and rely on memorized passages. The consolation of a word or passage of Scripture is often the source of encouragement and healing. Scripture can unlock our imaginations from the grip of fear, anger, or any other impediments.
Of course, Francis is known and celebrated as the patron saint of ecology. Cocksedge and Worssam point out that Francis saw creation as God’s first book. Nature deserved special reverence and attention, realizing that everything in Creation is interconnected. We are all kin to every part of creation. Francis may not have been the first Christian mystic to understand the place of humanity as part of creation and that everything was created by God and is good. But he takes it a step further, giving the title of brother or sister to the creatures and elements of the natural world: Brother Worm, Sister Water, Sister Mother Earth. This is no academic appreciation or abstract theological proposition. Francis loved creation, and all creation became part of prayer. He didn’t pray about creation: he made creation the offering of heart and soul to God. Examples of this can be seen in the outdoor Christmas celebration at Greccio, and counter-intuitively leaving a corner of the garden for wild plants to thrive. Quoting St. Francis: ‘every creature announces and proclaims: “God made me”’. Rather than leaving the reader with vivid statements such as this about creation, as something that must be accepted at face value, the authors throughout the book employ a maieutic approach. Each chapter concludes with questions designed to prompt further reflection and discussion. It leaves room for wondering and exploration. The reader is asked to engage Francis. Thus, in light of creation and prayer, the question is: ‘If every component of creation is a “vessel of God’s presence”, how does this influence your relationship with creation and your prayer?’ The understanding that each person might have a different stake in creation is implicit. Key to the book is the pithy counsel, ‘keep praying when the going gets tough, for any reason, but make allowances and don’t be too hard on yourself’.
The Franciscan tradition points to a radical re-valuing of lived experience as an expression of God’s activity in human life. As they write in the introduction: ‘Life and prayer are inextricably intertwined for anyone trying to follow seriously the way of Jesus Christ, and Francis of Assisi exemplified this in his own life’. Quoting the modern Franciscan teacher and writer Richard Rohr, the authors affirm: ‘God comes disguised as your life’. This book is a heartening resource employing a modern sensibility. Franciscan spirituality is not eccentric, it speaks to the heart of human life, and has done so all along. The life and example of Francis in his prayer and relating to God is as provocative and heartening today as it was 800 years ago. It makes one think; it shows how with a little courage and help from the Holy Spirit prayer is an holistic endeavor. ‘…Francis’ view that “all things’ in his followers” lives, including all aspects of everyday life - relationships, work and space - should be places of prayer and praise. We could summarize this for ourselves: Francis calls us from our praying, into activity and so to take prayer into every activity we undertake’ (p. 81).
