Daily Primer — May 31

The third kind of thought I call the monitor, and it is by far the most troublesome. In  active or discursive meditation, we perhaps choose a scene from the Gospel, for example the women meeting the Risen Lord on their way.  We ponder on this scene, on our Lord's words, the women's reactions. We seek to enter more deeply into the meaning, arouse affections, develop motivation, making resolutions. When our prayer is over we can look back and reflect: Yes, I had a good meditation today. I had good thoughts, made good acts of the will, came up with some good resolutions. Or, I had a terrible meditation today; lots of distractions, felt completely dead.  

What does this tell me?  It tells me that the whole time I was praying or meditating, though I might have had one eye on God, I had the other one on myself, keeping careful account of what I was doing.  This is the monitor, that eye on self, or really self itself.

The purity of Centering Prayer lies in this: for once, both eyes are on God. For the first time, perhaps, we are beginning to fulfill the first great commandment: "Love the Lord your God with your whole mind. . . ." But self does not want to do this; it wants to keep one eye on itself, the monitor.

Florilegium is the Medieval Latin word for bouquet, or more literally flowers (flos, flor-) which are gathered (legere). The word florilegium was used to refer to a compilation of writings, often religious or philosophical. These florilegium are literary flowers—beautiful words/prayers/thoughts I have gathered.  During my sabbatical they will give me something to ponder each day. — PHL.

Lord, I praise you at the break of day — giving thanks for the power of your love which breaks the bonds of death and darkness.  As the brilliant orb of the sun enlightens my world, may the risen Son enlighten my soul that I may reflect the light of life in all that I do and say.   On this seventh day of the week I offer my glad praise and thanksgiving for the gift of Sabbath.  In wisdom you recognized that work is not complete without the rest which allows me to joyfully embrace the fruits of the labor.
Preserve me this day from the sin of envy — from coveting anything that properly belongs to another, whether material or immaterial.  Strengthen in me the trust which is the heart of faith, that I will have enough, that you know what I need, and that you will continue to be generous.  Soften in me any hardness of heart or mind which keeps me from being teachable.  May I eagerly take upon myself your yoke and learn from you —  whose yoke is easy and whose burden is light.  Today I am particularly mindful of those for who the tomb of Holy Saturday is real:
† Those for whom life on earth is near its end . . .
†  Those who have received devastating news . . .
† Those who do not know how to escape the darkness which surrounds them . . .
I dedicate myself to follow in the way of my risen Lord, who lives in me in the power of the Holy Spirit.  Give me patience in suffering, constancy in affection, compassion in the presence of those who hurt, and strength to endure faithfully beyond each Holy Saturday to the joy of the day of resurrection.  Amen.

GOD with me lying down,
God with me rising up,
God with me in each ray of light,
Nor I a ray of joy without Him,
Nor one ray without Him.

Christ with me sleeping,
Christ with me waking,
Christ with me watching,
Every day and night,
Each day and night.

God with me protecting,
The Lord with me directing,
The Spirit with me strengthening,
For ever and for evermore,
Ever and evermore, Amen.
Chief of chiefs, Amen.