Adoration Isn’t Flattery

When I was younger, I always felt a little cheesy praising God.

I knew that the proper order of prayer is ACTS: adoration, contrition, thanksgiving, supplication. I always felt fluent in the last three, but adoration was tricky. It was hard to shake the feeling that I was buttering God up in preparation for asking for a favor: “Heyyy, Lord, looking good there. Glorious! I mean, really, just omnipotent today! Love the whole endless goodness thing. With the angels, and the loving sacrifice, and so on. Really grade-A work. So! Um, now that I’m here, I was wondering if you could, um, increase vocations, heal my friend’s cancer, and help me move my couch this weekend ... “

Not exactly Psalm material. It felt so unnatural, I sometimes skipped praying altogether, because the adoration part felt too icky.

image
image

I still feel that way sometimes. Even if I know that all the praise I’m offering is true, it’s hard to feel sincere. Of course the answer is the same answer that adults always get: do it anyway, no matter how it feels.

We don’t start with adoration because God needs us to tell him what He’s like. He doesn’t need to have His ego boosted, and He doesn’t need to be softened up or put in a good mood, like some prickly, insecure boss in middle management.

When we praise God, it’s for our sakes, 100%: to remind us Who we’re talking to — and to remind us who we are. It’s like the story of the old man who walked into the chapel every day, and just sat there for 10 minutes, and then went out. He did this for years and years. The curious priest finally asked him what he was doing every day, and the old man explained, “Well, I sit down, and I say, ‘God, You are very big, and I am very small.’”

What else is there to say?

I teach my kids that a car is made for driving, a toaster is made for making toast, and we are made for knowing, loving, and serving God. That is what we are for. A good way to remember what we are for — who we really are — is first to remember who God is, and what He is like. This is what adoration is all about. Want to understand your sins more clearly, suddenly see the bounty of your life, or be moved to pray for something other than your same old, stale desires? Start with adoration. Once we spend some time on this part, the rest of it — contrition, thanksgiving, and supplication — fall into place.

Adoration isn’t to prepare God: It’s to prepare ourselves.

Cistercian Father Thomas Esposito says of discerning one’s college choice, ‘There has to be something that tugs at you and makes you want to investigate it further. And then the personal encounter comes in the form of a visit or a chat with a student or alumnus who communicates with the same enthusiasm or energy about the place. And then that love of a place can be a seed which germinates in your own heart through prayer.’

Choose a College With a Discerning Mind and Heart

Cistercian Father Thomas Esposito, assistant professor of theology at the University of Dallas (UD) and subprior (and former vocations director) of the Cistercian Abbey of Our Lady of Dallas, drew from his experience as both a student and now monastic religious to help those discerning understand the parallels between religious and college discernment.

Representing the Holy Spirit that descended “like a dove” and hovered over Jesus when he was baptized.

Bishop Burbidge: The Pandemic is Our ‘Pentecost Moment’

This “21st century Pentecost moment” brought on by the pandemic, Bishop Michael Burbidge said, has underscored the need for good communication in the Church across all forms of media, in order to invite people into the fullness of the Gospel.