Catholic Reflexes: Dagger Prayers

sword

My high school soccer coach had a line that he would repeat so often that it almost became unbearable to hear, and yet years later it would serve as one of the foundations for my budding spiritual life. At soccer practice, instead of having us work on new plays or polishing our attack formation, he would, more often than not, have us work on rudimentary soccer skills: dribbling, passing, conditioning… Little League stuff. And whenever a player (usually me) would ask whether we could work on something more “interesting,” my coach would use his line:

You sink to the level of your training.

You sink to the level of your training. Our coach knew that once you are an hour into a 90-minute soccer game, you don’t have the mental capacity to think about how you are dribbling, and so you naturally sink to whatever is the least-common-denominator of your soccer skill: your training and your reflexes rather than carefully orchestrated plans. If you have not trained well, you will not play well. Mental and emotional exhaustion will cause you to default to your training, both on and off the soccer field.

The Liturgy of the Hours in the Seminary

Many years after I left the high school soccer field, this line from my coach came back to me right as I was starting seminary. We were in a formation session with one of the priest faculty at the seminary, discussing the Liturgy of the Hours (the “official daily prayer of the Church” consisting of Scripture passages, intercessions, readings from the Church Fathers, etc.) which all clergy are obligated to pray, and the priest began speaking about the verse which is prayed at the very beginning of each of the five “Hours” of prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours. The verse comes from the beginning of Psalm 70:

God, come to my assistance,

O Lord, make haste to help me.

Every Hour that is prayed begins with this verse. Tens of thousands of people, both clergy and the lay, all over the world, pray this prayer of humility and petition at least five times a day, asking that the grace and aid of the Lord would always be with us.

The priest who was leading the formation session explained that one of the reasons that this verse found its way to the beginning of each Hour is due to a Church Father: St. John Cassian (c. 360-433). St. John always had this prayer on his lips: he recommended to those whom he was mentoring that they always pray that verse as soon as they began to experience temptation or discouragement. As soon as they noticed something that disturbed their peace in Christ, they were to immediately pray in humility for the Lord’s assistance, rather than relying on their own strength. This type of prayer was to become a “reflex” for them, a default-mode for their spiritual life, the basics of their training.

Setting aside his notes for a minute, the priest who was leading the formation session looked at all of us seminarians as only a spiritual father can, and said “it shouldn’t just stop there, gentlemen. You shouldn’t reserve these “reflex prayers” for the beginning of each Hour. You need to constantly have the Word of God around you, on your lips and in your heart.” 

Dagger Prayers

The priest continued with somewhat violent imagery:

You need to have a whole arsenal of ‘dagger prayers’ with you at all times. Dagger prayers are pithy, pointed prayers from Scripture or spiritual writers which can be pulled out at a moment’s notice and plunged into the heart of the attacking Enemy. As soon as you recognize a temptation or a discouragement, a dagger prayer needs to come out in order to bring the truth and the power of Jesus Christ into that situation.

That moment is when my soccer coach’s voice returned to my head: “you sink to the level of your training.” Either you are prepared to face temptation because you have learned and practiced these dagger prayers to immediately seek God’s assistance, or you face the very real possibility of trying to deal with spiritual attack and discouragement on your own strength (a sure recipe for disaster).

I know that (for my own part) whenever I encountered an attack, I tended to fold like a lawn chair, thinking that because I am encountering difficulty that means that I am destined to fail, and so I can try and fight it off for a minute or two, but it would be so much easier to just give up now. What the priest said next, however, changed the tune completely:

The awareness of a struggle and an attack should be an encouragement rather than a discouragement; to continue to do battle is a sign of God’s grace present in you.

The trials that I experience are not indications of my failures. Rather, they are indications that Christ the Lord is with me, fighting on my behalf as only He can. And so, I need not fear trials, discouragements, and attacks, for He has given me a full arsenal of dagger prayers that have wondrous effects against spiritual attack. Suddenly, instead of the voice of discouragement, the loudest and most important voice becomes the voice of our Shepherd, speaking truth and power into the midst of difficulty.

And so, returning to the rudiments of soccer, the rudiments of the spiritual life is not because we are forever relegated to the Little League. Rather, we return to the rudiments because we sink to the level of our training, and the foundation of the spiritual life must be on the words and the power of Jesus Christ, for nothing else will do.

Ever since that day at the beginning of seminary, I have been attempting to pick up more daggers along the way. I have kept a notebook on my desk for years now, filled with Scripture passages, pithy prayers, and quotations from the saints. I have found it incredibly beneficial in moments of difficulty and discouragement to open the notebook and to plunge the dagger into the heart of the Enemy. I certainly do not do it perfectly; many times I still find myself attempting to get by on my own strength, and it always goes poorly when I think that I am the one in charge. However, when I am able to remember to pick up a dagger in the midst of struggle, a prayer such as Psalm 86:11 is devastating to the attack and reminds me of the great upward call of Christ:

    Teach me thy way, O Lord,
    that I may walk in thy truth;
    unite my heart to fear thy name.

And so, my dear friends in Christ, let us train well with the weapons the Lord has given us, not fearing the attacks, the trials, and the discouragements. Rather, let us “put on the whole armor of God, that [we] may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil… and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God,” (Ephesians 6:11, 17) so that when we sink to the level of our training, our reflex would be to fall back on the power of Christ.

I leave you with a few of my favorite dagger prayers, and encourage you to find some of your own:

“If you want to be miserable, live your vocation half-way.”

Do all things without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world (Philippians 2:14-15).

“Sin does not define you, but through Christ it can refine you.”

My son, if you come forward to serve the Lord, remain in justice and in fear, and prepare yourself for temptation… for gold and silver are tested in the fire, and acceptable men in the furnace of humiliation (Sirach 2:1, 5).

“Never forget that the God of the whole universe desires intimacy with you.”

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice (Philippians 4:4).

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4 thoughts on “Catholic Reflexes: Dagger Prayers”

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