Prayer in the first moments after waking up
P. Gorazd Cetkovský, O.Carm.
“When I wake up in the morning, angels watch over me, my Lord…” cheerfully sings a beloved “pointing” song. And it continues to say that angels watch over each of us when we wash, have breakfast, go to school, throughout the day. Yes, from the very moment we wake up, we are accompanied by God’s care, or rather: it accompanies us even at night, but we can think of it right from waking up. However, the experience of generations of Christians shows that the moments right after waking up also have their temptations.
In 1994, a book by Cardinal Martini titled You have persevered with me in my trials (Reflections on Job) was published by the Cesta publishing house, and in my opinion, it somewhat escaped the attention of a wider circle of readers. It is a record of the spiritual exercises that the cardinal had with priests. In one of the reflections, he presents very valuable thoughts about a problem that troubles most of us, which he aptly names: the disorder of the mind.
Every person is exposed to this multitude of difficult and contradictory thoughts that swarm around him like parasites, locusts, or mosquitoes, preventing him from focusing on what is his basic duty. Those who do not attempt a spiritual life do not notice this and live off impressions, readings, news, listening to sounds, noises, television, constantly jumping from one of these things to another in a continuous whirlwind of fantasies and desires. What they have seen, they immediately forget for what they will see in a moment, just as one who watches one television program after another remains constantly under the influence of a certain excitement.
The disorder of the mind is, we can say, a constant living situation, even if we are not aware of it. We realize it when we begin to quiet ourselves, meditate regularly: then we are attacked by a swarm of unnecessary, vain, and disordered thoughts, and the struggle with them can become a true martyrdom, a true penance that can replace many other external penances.1
And just as this description of distraction, bewilderment, and inability to concentrate excellently corresponds to our own experience, we also agree with the lesson derived from it:
The struggle with the disorder of the mind is one of the most important activities for those who want to listen to God and fully dedicate themselves to His action.2
When the cardinal describes some specific ways of disobedience of the mind, he explicitly states that the critical time for ordering the mind is – among other times – also the morning moments.
Such is the nature of these thoughts: they seem quite innocent, fill the first morning hours when a person is waking up, attack us when we are not too busy, and in an instant invade our mind in such a way that when we begin to work again, we feel sad, apathetic, and weak, without knowing why. In reality, we have not carefully disciplined them, we have not stopped them; thus, some enthusiasm or aversion, some zeal or depression, or anger at ourselves or others has subconsciously permeated us, and we have then nurtured them. (...)
The discovery of this complex inner world is part of the spiritual journey and leads us to initiate a constant and very urgent struggle.3
Vigilance, discernment of thoughts, and the fight against bad thoughts, vices, and passions are important areas of experience and teaching from the first monks and the desert fathers.4 The necessity of such an inner struggle was also recognized by the Jerusalem Patriarch St. Albert (+ 1214). Therefore, in the rules he wrote for the first Carmelites, which then became the rule of Carmel, he quotes the words of Scripture: “Life on earth is a test” (Job 7:1 – according to the Vulgate) and “all who want to live godly will suffer persecution” (2 Tim 3:12) and thus begins a separate chapter of the rule, calling for vigilance and spiritual combat – in thorough attire full of God’s armor (again with a rich basis in the sayings of Scripture). This permanently presents a theme for the fathers and monks of Christian antiquity that is so important.
To provide guidance on how to cleanse our mind from disturbing influences, Cardinal Martini quotes the monk Evagrius in the aforementioned book. This educated and experienced teacher succinctly described the process by which our inner life gets “clouded.” And Evagrius’ warning describes precisely the temptation that comes in the morning:5
There is a logismos, called the wanderer (pilgrim), which approaches the brothers mainly at dawn: it leads the mind from one city to another, from village to village and from house to house. It simply begins to talk with others at first. Then it gets into a long conversation with someone familiar, damaging (literally: decomposing – in the sense of rot, decay) its state appropriately to the quality of those it meets, and step by step it distances itself from the awareness of God (= the presence of God) and virtue and forgets its calling and vow.
Therefore, one who has distanced himself from the world needs to look at this demon and observe where it comes from and where it stops (settles down, presses, clings, intrudes – the used word has all these meanings). Because he embarks on this entire journey not without reason or by chance. But he does so with the intent of disrupting the inner state of the anchorite (hermit), so that the mind, inflamed by all this, intoxicated by many conversations, at that moment succumbs to the demon of lust, anger, or sadness,6 which most damage the clarity of its inner state.
At this moment, allow me a small digression from our topic. As we were preparing the aforementioned translation, I was also struck by the previous paragraph of Evagrius’ writing, which deals with the discernment of thoughts. It is very important to recognize whether the thought that fills my inner self comes only from my mind or is an inspiration from God (angelic) or demonic. According to this, I then take a stance towards it. Evagrius thus wrote:
As we have recognized through long observation, there is this difference among angelic, human, and those thoughts that come from demons: Angelic try to understand the essence of things and to investigate their spiritual significance, such as for what purpose gold was created and why it is scattered in the form of sand somewhere in the depths of the earth and extracted with great difficulties and effort. How is it that the found is washed with water, subjected to fire, and then given into the hands of craftsmen, who make from it a lamp for the tent, incense burners, chalices and vessels (2 Chron 4:21), from which – by the grace of our Savior – the Babylonian king no longer drinks (Dan 5:3). Cleopas carries away burning hearts from these secrets (Lk 24:32).
The demonic thought does not know this and does not understand it, it only shamelessly incites the senses to possess (acquire, own, accumulate, seize, covet) the perceivable gold and predicts the enjoyment and glory that stem from it.
And human thought does not strive to possess the gold, nor does it inquire about what gold symbolizes, but it brings only a simple image into the mind, without passion or desirousness.
Similar discernment should be applied to other subjects as one will internally (literally: secretly) use reason according to this rule.
From these sentences it is clear how different shapes our life can take – according to the thoughts we allow space for in our hearts: we can be people of contemplation, deep reverence, and love for God and creation, or we can be people driven by greed, eternally dissatisfied and violent, or we can live blunted, empty lives drawn solely from our own strength.
Let us now return to our reflection on lifting our mind to God in the morning hours. We have recognized that the first moments of the day are very important: we can, with a mind cleansed by sleep, immediately turn to the Lord, or through negligence or foolishness, we can allow and let all sorts of things rule in our hearts, later declaring that we somehow “got up on the wrong foot.”
But let us add a few thoughts for completion. With greater understanding, we now notice how persistently the ascetic tradition of the church emphasizes morning contemplation (that is, that we should contemplate as much as possible in the morning, even at the cost of various personal sacrifices that may be associated with it) and the silence during the night, which begins after evening prayer and lasts until the end of morning prayers, or is sometimes even extended further into the morning. This applies primarily to the environment of religious communities, but in a wisely adapted form, it has always been adopted by individuals “in the world” – according to the possibilities of each individual person.
In essence, it is always about a deliberate “fast from perceptions,” which then allows for an easier connection with God through prayer. Translated directly into today’s practical life, this can mean: I must carefully consider when I first allow the radio receiver or even the television to sound, when I first reach for the newspapers or so cunningly appealing magazines with colorful covers and content. Otherwise, it can easily happen that I jump directly into the arms of Evagrius' “wanderer,” while “I did not mean it badly...” In my subsequent attempts at prayer, I thus clumsily “bleed out.” Similarly, I should also be more careful about when and how I engage in dialogue (or monologue!) with the emerging day of my neighbor.
The strong emphasis of traditional piety on morning prayer, however, relates to the morning time in a broader sense – not just those moments right after waking. The former lifestyle and the ancient order of the day, which placed the emphasis of the day precisely in the morning hours, certainly had an influence here. The natural psychological suitability of morning time for contemplation is explained by the Carmelite P. Jan Brenninger as follows: “The morning is most suitable for meditation because at that time the spirit is the calmest and can easily focus on a certain thing. Moreover, it is customary to set meditation at that time because this way the whole day’s work can be well directed towards God.”7
Let us also briefly glance into the Holy Scriptures of the Old Testament. In reference to the verse of the psalm: “...until I awake (O Lord), I will be satisfied with seeing you,” (Ps 17:15 – translation by Dr. Bogner) the Jerusalem Bible adds a note: “The hour of morning awakening is a privileged moment for manifestations of God’s generosity.”8 This assertion is very interesting to us in relation to everything we have said so far. The note goes on: “It is also a time of justice.” This is the dual fundamental characteristic of the Old Testament view of morning time. An explanation is then added: “The morning star and light symbolize salvation. On the contrary, evening and darkness symbolize trial and misfortune.”9
When I go through the relevant passages of the Old Testament that the Jerusalem Bible refers to, I would express my overall impression somewhat differently. In my conviction, the psalmist’s thinking can be summarized as follows:
- Morning is the beginning of a new state of affairs (suddenly it is different than before, than the previous evening).
- This new beginning is eagerly awaited by the psalmist (and every believer), desperately longed for.
- The expected new state of affairs (and the end of the old) is the work of God.
- If something happens from the very morning, it is firm and lasting.
- If things are new from the very morning (the change happened unnoticed by the human eye during the night), it is a testament to the sovereignty of God’s power and a guarantee that this new state of affairs will be lasting, reliable!
(Though what I call amateurishly “a new state of affairs,” for this the Scriptures have a special term that has perhaps somewhat become common: salvation.)
As a situation most similar to this, we may think of various folk or household customs, the essence of which lies in children finding gifts outside the window in the morning, or simply the first whiteness of snow on the coming winter morning.
Morning as a time of joyful surprise...
Let us therefore mention some quotations from Scripture:
MORNING IS A LONG-AWAITED TIME
Ps 130:6:
My soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen for the morning,
when they watch for the morning.
Ps 57:9: (after an earnest lament, a song of trust and praise suddenly sounds:)
Awake, harp and lyre, let me awaken the dawn!
MORNING IS A TIME FOR A NEW ORDER OF THINGS
Ps 73:20:
Like a dream after waking, O Lord,
You will despise their illusion when you awake.
(morning as a time of casting off the old, the bad)
Ps 30:6:
Evening brings weeping,
but morning brings joy.
(morning is the time of awakening to a new state of affairs)
MORNING IS A TIME FOR THE MANIFESTATION OR UNDERSTANDING OF GOD’S SAVING ACTS
Ps 49:15:
They drive like sheep to the grave,
death shall be their shepherd.
In the morning, upright men shall trample them ...
Ps 143:8:
Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love,
for in you I put my trust.
WHAT BEGINS RIGHT IN THE MORNING IS FIRM AND LASTING
– whether it concerns the long-term destiny of a person:
Ps 73:14:
Every day they afflict me with wounds,
every morning I am punished.
Job 7:18:
(What is man,) that you make him your priority and test him every morning
and every moment?
– whether it concerns the acts of men:
Jer 21:12:
... thus says the Lord:
In the morning, establish justice ...
– whether it concerns specific manifestations of God’s care:
Ps 46:6:
... God will help him at break of day
Ps 90:14:
Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love
and we will rejoice and be glad all our days.
Isa 33:2:
(O Lord) Be the arm of your people every morning ...
Zeph 3:5:
The Lord is righteous in her midst
(i.e., rebellious Jerusalem),
He does no wrong;
every morning He brings his justice to light,
day after day, unceasingly ...
We might argue that these texts indeed refer to the morning that is anticipated, not the one experienced in the present. And then the question arises: Can we find guidance for starting our day in them at all? I believe so. If I experience the morning in prayer, if I enter into the new day through prayer, then this prayer renews and strengthens my faith in God’s closeness, allows me to see – through the eyes of faith – that new state of affairs, that is, salvation as it is continually approaching or growing towards fullness, connects me with God, and leads to trust and praise. Here let us recall the text:
Ps 5:4:
O Lord, in the morning you hear my voice;
in the morning I prepare a sacrifice for you and watch.
Our morning sacrifice is prayer.
And the prerequisite of morning prayer is both that immediate vigilance and fasting from perceptions from the moment of waking, as we have reflected above, but perhaps also an explicit renewal of the basic decisions of our lives, possibly specific renunciations: I not only want to be careful of the “wanderer” right from the morning, not to let myself be dragged along, but I will also newly declare (before God and before myself) the intention of heading in a certain direction. Thus, I can shortly after waking restore my decision to live for God (not for myself, not in bondage to influences and fears), the willingness to take my cross, the willingness to build relationships with specific people...
I am firmly convinced that only from such a “wakened” heart can true praise arise, that is: this new decision incited by this new morning to God must precede my opening of my breviary (and morning praises are no longer merely a prayer for priests and religious) ... Otherwise, I am trying, metaphorically speaking, to play beautiful melodies from quality notes, but on an unprepared instrument.
About the Jewish tradition of morning prayer, Di Sante10 writes: “Gazing at the light that every day is born through God’s goodness, Israel blesses the Eternal and glorifies him, thereby joining its voice to that of the angels of heaven and the entire universe. (...) Creation is a sign of God’s love, given to man as a gift. However, this beracha speaks more about re-creation than about creation ... (...) A believing Jew looks every morning face to face at the fresh, new world that God has just created!”
How beautiful the subtext becomes for the fact that “it is morning!” And this is not even mentioning the works of God that the New Testament speaks of.
Let us add just two quotes from the Gospel:
Mk 1:35:
Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, He rose and went out to a desolate place, and there He prayed.
Mk 16:2:
Very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb...
For Christians, every morning is primarily a reminder of Jesus’ resurrection, of the atmosphere of Easter and Sunday.
Thus, the morning hours are truly a time “charged” with spiritual content.
When I shared these reflections with Father Michal Špaček right at the beginning, he pointed out to me two closely related themes. The emphasis on morning hours in our piety tradition is also related to the offering of the first fruits, as encountered among many ancient peoples. The first fruits (in Latin primitiae) belonged to the deity. It could be a part – the first portion – from the spoil, from the harvest, or from the offspring.
Here too, space for reflection easily opens up. It is about the effort to give to God, to give to Him first, to give Him when the selection is still the greatest (as was probably the case with the spoil), to give Him that which is (what is certain) – not to promise until the next, which will come “sometime,” “later ...” (as was the case with the harvest and offspring), simply to give Him the best...
It seems that even among the Israelites, the giving of the first fruits to the Lord was initially a completely spontaneous action, which was only later regulated by the Law (see especially the beautiful text Deut. 26:1-10). And the Old Testament prescription regarding the first fruits of the harvest is then reflected in Christian spirituality in the phrase “primitiae diei adherent Domino” – the first fruits of the day belong to the Lord.
And the second related area is the requirement of the Rule of St. Benedict: “Nothing is to be preferred to the service of God.” This preference is usually understood in terms of significance: let nothing be given greater importance ... but it is also possible to interpret this rule in terms of the temporal arrangement of what fills our day – simply: let it start with prayer, worship ...
The ideas that I am now conveying and sharing with you were long contained within me without my daring to process them into the form of an article. It was only paragraphs from the directory (a kind of anthology of guidelines for life in the monastery) of the barefoot Carmelites and Carmelite Sisters from over fifty years ago that spurred me on.11 It expresses the important points we have been reflecting on with a simple comparison:
Not only religious persons but all pious Christians should strive to dedicate the first fruits of their hearts to God. Therefore, the foremost thing they should desire upon waking in the morning is God Himself; they should immediately reach out with the hand of their burning desire to firmly grasp Him and not let go, just as pilgrims do who have gold and jewels with them. For hardly do they awaken from sleep, they immediately reach for their treasure with anxiety and fear to ascertain whether they have lost it. So, whoever wants to offer this pleasant morning sacrifice to the Divine Majesty must strive to ensure that worldly thoughts do not have access to him in that short moment when he lifts his heart to heaven; indeed, his first thought should be directed towards Jesus Christ, our Lord, the Bridegroom of his soul. But he must not forget that the devil, who seeks to fill the human spirit with so many vain and harmful thoughts, will also exert himself to seize this dwelling as soon as possible, so that he may snatch away from God the honor of the sacrifice that rational creatures owe to their Creator.
A concrete example of what such an offering to the Lord could look like immediately after waking is provided by a “pocket-sized” guide for Carmelites published at the beginning of our century.12
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
Blessed be, holy Trinity and indivisible Unity; we wish to give praise to God, who has shown us His mercy.
In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, I arise;
may He bless, guide, protect, and lead me to eternal life.
Amen.
I thank you, Most Holy Trinity,
for the watch (over me) this night,
for the mercy shown to me in keeping me safe from harm
and for the other bestowed blessings;
please grant that I may
constantly give you due thanks.
Amen.
(Followed by prayers while dressing.)
