It's not often that I post about a book. It's not often that I find a new book that says something new enough -- and true enough -- to shift my perspective. On the recommendation of someone at church, I've been reading Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools by Tyler Staton. I was skeptical of the book at first: it's definitely not written in the same way as books that I've cherished from, say, C.S. Lewis. The author did not invent the modern editorial trend to structure chapters in a way that verges on click-bait; all the same I was only reading it to follow through on a recommendation received. But now and then I'd come across a gem of insight like this one:
Everything we interact with in this small, cramped, secular world of our own making, we have the potential of mastering. In fact, we must master it quickly in order to survive -- the most efficient route between home and the office, how to move up the ranks at work, how to eat sushi without looking stupid, how to cut across lanes on our bicycles and live to tell the tale. And if we can't master it, we can always avoid it. I'll just change industries, avoid chopsticks, and take an Uber.
Prayer can't be mastered. Prayer always means submission. To pray is to willingly put ourselves in the unguarded, exposed position. There is no climb. There is no control. There is no mastery. There is only humility and hope.
To pray is to risk being naive, to risk believing, to risk playing the fool. To pray is to risk trusting someone who might let you down. To pray is to get our hopes up. And we've learned to avoid that. So we avoid prayer. (p. 14)
It's not a scholarly book. It's a book of experience with insight and perspective. I'm still working my way through. It's turning out to be a book where I re-read certain sections because I want to imprint the insights more clearly in my mind. But some of the insights, such as that one, have been very much worth my consideration.
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