A house of prayer: sermon on the ninth Sunday after Pentecost

By a Dominican Friar   |   17 July 2024

“My house is the house of prayer …”

This Sunday’s gospel describes some events that took place in the last week of our Lord’s earthly life, when He cleansed the temple of the disrespectful practices that were taking place there. The Church reads it now, in high summer, because she has never forgotten that it was at this time of year that the Jewish temple was destroyed. Since the days of King Solomon, who came to the throne ten centuries before the birth of Christ, with the exception of one period of about 70 years, the temple had stood in Jerusalem as God’s great house of prayer — principally for the Jews but also, in its outer court, for the Gentiles. But our Lord, in the last week of His life, foretold that it would soon come crashing down. And so it happened: it was part of the judgement that God allowed to fall on Jerusalem for its rejection of His Son.

But although the Jewish temple fell, God was not going to leave the world without a house of prayer. Prayer is necessary if mankind is going to carry on existing. If human beings ever gave up praying altogether, I should think that divine justice would owe it to itself to bring the world to an end. So, what is the house of prayer, now that the temple is no more? In the first place, it is simply holy Church herself; the universal Church of Christ, spread throughout the world. St Paul calls the Church “the house of the living God”. All the faithful throughout the world make up this house. Christ has given us His Holy Spirit. In that way, He has united us to each other, and made us into His house of prayer. 

But now, what about our own houses, our buildings of bricks and mortar? Some Catholics, those who belong to religious orders, live in what are called religious houses. These are places that have been especially set apart for prayer. We who live in them are privileged to dwell under the same roof as Jesus Christ, living in the Blessed Sacrament. 

In the Old Testament, only a small number of priests at any one time could be living at the temple in Jerusalem. There were also some chambers there set aside for the use of devout women. It is believed that the Blessed Virgin Mary was taken to the temple by St Joachim and St Ann as a little girl, so that she might grow up within the sacred enclosure. But now, in the New Testament, Christ has established religious houses throughout the world. This makes it possible for a sacrifice of praise to be offered constantly to the Blessed Trinity. This sacrifice consist of the holy Mass and the eight Hours of the Divine Office. Day and night, somewhere on earth, religious communities are praying to God for the needs of mankind. We should pray that He may raise up new houses of this kind, to replace those that have been closed down in our days. These are houses of prayer in a special way.

But every Christian family is also called to make its house into a house of prayer. Of course, a family home, especially one blessed with young children, cannot have the regularity (let alone the peace and quiet) of a monastery. But your houses can still be places of prayer: you can have a routine of prayer that you follow as far as possible, and if possible, as a family. Why is that so important? Because when we pray together, whether as religious or as members of a family, our prayers become more powerful. Why is this? When we pray together, each of us is not just offering his own prayers, but also the prayers of each of the others. If I say the Our Father with two other people, I am consenting to what they are doing, and so, in God’s sight, it is as if I were saying three Our Fathers; and likewise, it’s as if each of the other two people were praying it three times as well. That makes nine Our Fathers in all. That’s why there is a proverb that says that God cannot resist the prayers of a multitude.

This is worth remembering if ever we find it difficult to pray with others. St Therese of Lisieux used to find it difficult to pray the rosary with the other sisters; she found it more peaceful to say it by herself. But she prayed it with them anyway, not only because that was part of their rule of life, but because she understood the kind of power that resides in common prayer.

Of course, I’m not saying that we should never practise individual prayers. They are essential as well. To foster our relation with God, we need to make time each day to speak to Him spontaneously, in our own words. But if possible, we should make place for prayer in common too.

People sometimes say, “I don’t know how to pray.” We shouldn’t worry if we feel like that, since St Paul said the same: “We do not know how to pray as we ought.” He was describing the natural condition of man before God. But he adds, “The Spirit (God’s Holy Spirit) helps us in our weakness.” Provided we want to pray, we are praying.

But finally, what will the Holy Spirit teach us to do? There are some things that always stay the same. It will always be fitting for us to praise God for His glory, as in the gradual of this Sunday’s Mass. That is why it’s good to learn by heart at least one of the psalms of praise in the bible, whether in English or in Latin — or even in Hebrew if you are especially gifted in languages. It will always be fitting for us to ask to be delivered from sins and vices, as in the introit and alleluia of this Sunday’s Mass; we ask God to deliver us from the enemies that rise up against us, which we can understand either as the fallen spirits or as our own passions. And it will always be good to pray for the repose of those who have gone before us, and to ask for a good death for ourselves when our time comes. 

But above all, it seems to me today that we are called on to pray for the deliverance of the Church from heresy; to pray that all who have the name of Catholic, and especially all who hold office in the Church, may believe the whole faith that has come to us from the apostles, and may reject everything that is contrary to it. Remember the words of our Lord, which He spoke at the end of the parable of the unjust judge, having described how the judge vindicated the widow who kept coming to him. “Will not God vindicate his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them? I tell you, he will vindicate them speedily.”