Praying with pain
Brendan McManus SJ :: Ignatius Loyola, who was no stranger to pain and recuperation, has a very curious take on illness: “We should not fix our desires on health or sickness. For everything has the potential of calling forth in us a deeper response to our life in God”.
Praying with Pain
Recovering from minor surgery (I’m conscious here that there are many more serious cases), I had one long sleepless night where the pain was very intense. Unaccustomed as I was to post-surgery recovery, the physical pain dominated everything, and I couldn’t think of anything else. It was the antithesis of contemplation and presence. I just wanted relief and had to push myself to ask the staff for stronger painkillers. Interestingly, my challenge was to accept pain medication and pain relief, one of the gifts of modern medicine, and overcome my own ‘stoic’ inclination. Eventually, calm was restored, and there were new learnings about pain management, medication and self-care. Pain was a reminder of the fragility of health and the essential embodied nature of being.
Despite the hype, pain is not a value in itself. Rather Catholic theology teaches that human suffering is to be avoided wherever possible and it is only unavoidable suffering that is to be prayed with as best one can. This can be surprising given all the focus on suffering and the Passion of Christ, but equally nowhere is suffering idealised; in fact, Jesus initially asks for it to be taken away (Luke 22:42). It’s only when there is no other option does he accept it as the will of God, embrace it and find God’s grace there. Suffering, inevitable as it usually is, embraced in this way can have a redemptive quality, uniting us to the sufferings of Christ, and giving meaning to our pain ‘offered up’ for others and the world. This is tough in practice, though, and demands a lot from the person at the receiving end.
The several weeks of recuperation for me were an invitation to humility. One of the aspects pain and sickness touches on is our ‘utility’ or productiveness. In illness, there is little we can do or contribute. Being a patient often means being dependent on others and their care. Moving from an active, productive life, this can be challenging, and it requires great patience to be a patient! Being unwell physically affects us physically, emotionally and spiritually, and can lead to some very negative emotions and dark feelings. It’s a real test of faith that we are loved for who we are and not what we do. It’s a radical leap of faith that we are held, loved and valued because we are children of God, and that we have an innate dignity (Genesis 1:26-27). Praying with this is such a challenge, though, as the normal routine of silence, prayer and contemplation is disrupted. For example, even sitting alone in the chapel becomes grating as it just makes one more aware of the pain.
Ignatius Loyola, who was no stranger to pain and recuperation, has a very curious take on illness: “We should not fix our desires on health or sickness… For everything has the potential of calling forth in us a deeper response to our life in God. (SpEx #23)” This goes so much against the natural drive for health. Who would choose to be sick? That makes this a very radical approach not being fixed on being well. Ignatius asks us to be free enough to accept whatever comes our way and find God in it. It’s good news for sick people, though, that God is with us in this, is close by and holding us. It can be hard to feel that or experience it though, being sick is no fun and the physical and mental unwellness tends to dominate everything.
Jesus in the Gospels is very compassionate and engaging with people in pain, he wants to heal them and brings healing and peace after engagement and dialogue. Jesus often reaches out toward the person in pain, reaches into the person’s suffering, and shares some of his own pain and wounds. Many of the Gospel scenes have the healed person as radically different afterwards, at peace and focused on following Jesus. The psalms in particular capture the immediacy of prayer in pain, they illustrate real prayer as honest dialogue: “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” (Ps 13) They show pain isn’t a lack of faith, rather it’s a raw and honest cry of the heart.
Another interesting Ignatian take is finding God in being obedient to your doctor, nurse or medical professional, trusting them and taking up their advice. This means believing that God is working through them, trusting in what a physician prescribes if it is “necessary for recovery or preservation of health (Ignatius in a 1556 letter)”. Again, this requires humility and trust in people and processes. Illness is often a purifying fire in that it consumes all of that ego, individualism and superiority that keeps us from our true identity in Christ and solidarity with the world and all its creatures. Recuperation becomes like a spiritual retreat, an invitation to go inward, to examine values and assumptions, and to take up new ways of praying and relating to God.
Breathing has been shown to help with pain relief, it helps to relax some of the tension that can grip the body and helps take some of the edge off the pain. In particular breathing that lengthens the exhale, for example diaphragmatic or ‘box’ breathing, helps taps the parasympathetic system reducing tension.
Emotional pain can of course be every bit as real and challenging to pray with, inviting us to abandon ourselves into God’s hands and to ask for release, clarity and peace.
- Bring yourself into God’s presence with an act of faith
- Ask for the grace you need, e.g. help me get through this moment of pain
- Locate it in your body, try to visualise it
- See Jesus looking at you, empathising with you, walking with you, suffering with you,
- Breathe into it, bring God’s healing and grace into that place
- Ask for the grace or courage to continue, what help or supports do you need, is there anything you need to do to alleviate the pain?
