My new breviaries arrived in the mail the other day. I ordered the full, four-volume set bound in black leather.

The books are beautiful. They’re a gift to myself for being accepted to the seminary.

Starting in August, I begin priestly studies at Blessed John XXIII National Seminary outside Boston. I will pray the Liturgy of the Hours with my new prayer books every day.

The Liturgy of the Hours is the official non-sacramental prayer of the Church. The breviary (the book that contains the Psalms, canticles and antiphons of the liturgy), provides structured prayer, meditation and reflection at regular intervals throughout the day.

From its inception, the Catholic Church has held the custom of celebrating daily the Liturgy of the Hours, thereby fulfilling St. Paul’s plea to “pray without ceasing,” and offering praise to the Father who intercedes for the salvation of the world.

A priest — or a potential one, for that matter — is called to be a man of prayer. Clerics are mandated to remain faithful to prayer and service of the Word. By praying the Divine Office, the presbyter demonstrates fidelity to the liturgy and prepares to provide the faithful with sound spiritual direction.

The Liturgy of the Hours aren’t just for the clergy; they were crafted for the entire people of God, so that Christ may continue his priestly ministry within us and claim us as his own. All his people can participate in these prayers, thereby harmonizing our praise to God as one unified voice (see John 17:11-26).

In its coverage of world affairs, the media often note that Muslims pray five times a day. While that may be true for many devout practitioners of Islam, I would contend that the vast majority of Muslims, like Christians, are not so faithful. Christian prayer is structured so that we can — and should — pray seven times a day. And I’m not even counting the “Regina Coeli” or the Angelus.

The “prayer of the Church” also serves as the antidote for our increasingly secular world. I commit to the Divine Office because the practice anchors me in the reality of the Church and extends the Most Holy Sacrifice of the Altar — a perpetual spiritual experience with the Eucharist. Daily I take up my thick, black book, running my fingers over the words embossed on its onionskin pages laminated in gold, delighting in these ancient rhythms that Thomas Merton called “the Church’s perfect prayers.”

In the 1960s, the recitation of the hours among the common priesthood was brought back into practice by the Second Vatican Council. Earlier in the century, Pope Pius XII, in his 1947 encyclical Mediator Dei (On the Sacred Liturgy), notes that these prayers unite us with the mind of Christ and transcend the boundaries of time.

He writes: “The Word of God, when he assumed a human nature, introduced into this land of exile the hymn that in heaven is sung throughout all ages.”

By his Word, the Lord unites us with himself and each other by singing these divine canticles composed in eternity. Think of it like this:

Because of time-zone differences, Catholics around the world are praying the Liturgy of the Hours at every moment. In this way, each moment — all time — is sanctified to God.

Perfect.

Tucker Cordani is to begin seminary studies for the Diocese of Springfield,