Here is the full text of an email I got earlier today from another regular in a Saturday morning bible study and rosary group of which I am an occasional but grateful part:Look at the picture; The PEACE on their faces, then read the prayer.
I am picking 17 people who have touched my life and who I think would want to receive this. Please send it back to me (You'll see why).
In case you are not aware, Saint Theresa is known as the Saint of the Little Ways, meaning she believed in doing the little things in life well and with great love. She is represented by roses. May everyone who receives this message be blessed.
Theresa's Prayer cannot be deleted. REMEMBER to make a wish before you read the prayer. That's all you have to do. There is nothing attached. Just share this with people and see what happens on the fourth day.
Sorry you have to forward the message, but try not to break this, please. Prayer is one of the best free gifts we receive. Read the prayer below.
Saint Theresa's Prayer
May today there be peace within.
May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content knowing you are a child of God. Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.
Now, send this to 17 people within the next 15 minutes. And remember to send this back. I count as 1...you'll see why.
Would it surprise you to learn that I did not send this to 17 people, much less in 15 minutes?
I distrust anything that treats God like a late-night infomercial for the Acme Wish Granting Fairy Guild. If the Lord and Creator of the Universe is in the habit of dispensing premium shots of grace and a set of never-needs-sharpening steak knives to the first 50 callers, then I really need a refresher on the meaning of the parable of the laborers in the vineyard who start work at different times.
Moreover, this prayer of Saint Therese sounds awfully New Age for something allegedly composed by a pious French woman who died at 23 years old in 1897 (notwithstanding the photo that came with the email, authorship of the prayer is attributed to Therese of Lisieux, not her namesake Mother Teresa of Calcutta, who is remembered in part for a more hardheaded "love them anyway" prayer).
Oddly, the sentiment animating this email seems to be a kudzu-like variant of "operator, get me Jesus on the line" run amok. Even the context introducing the prayer rings alarm bells: The catechism teacher in me vies with the editor to snark that Therese was known for her "little way" of following Christ, not "little ways," plural.
I like the prayer. I really do. But if I were playing piano in a whorehouse, I'd wonder at the trustworthiness of any affirmation assuring me of being exactly where I was meant to be. I'm more cynical than some that way.
There are more charitable ways to read this email. As one commentator pointed out, "I understand this is indeed a prayer of St. Therese of Lisieux and taken in context, it is meant to assure you that, though you may feel you are not doing what He wants you to do, He is caring for you and will bring you Home so long as you ask Him for forgivness and you believe in His grace and the salvation purchased for us through His only son, Jesus The Christ."
Still, I dunno. Reservations continue to raise their conniving little hands in the classroom of my mind. Chain mail like this never explains where its magic numbers come from. Why 17 people? Why 15 minutes? And what's with the bit about how this prayer cannot be deleted? (watch my email software...watch my operating system...watch my itchy trigger finger...oops! where did that go?)
How about those "infinite possibilities born of faith" -- potentially very exciting stuff, eh? Only here's a contrary thought: what if the only possibility worth striving for is reunion with God, because, as St. Paul put it in a famous letter to the Philippians, "all else is rubbish?"
Faith is an adventure, and God is not boring, but there are better ways to say so than by conjuring up memories of the voiceover work for credit card commercials (master the possibilities!). I think too of Ricardo Montalban doing an outtake from Fantasy Island. Yes, I am that old.
My guess is that some well meaning fool with a library card and an email address mistook a jazzy foray into gospel music by the Manhattan Transfer for actual theology. You can write a prayer just like it if you keep that in mind and then mix fragments of the Desiderata with passages from Jonathan Livingston Seagull.
Avoid the Didache, which is a different and more orthodox animal altogether.
The bottom line? Exasperation, and possibly cantankerousness, with scattered reports of pontification in the forecast.
I've seen this prayer at least twice now. Today's instance came from a friend in North Carolina. On the previous go-round, it was forwarded to me by a friend in Nevada. Both of the people who sent this to me are great people. The one especially dear to me is a singer and voice coach who lived through brain surgery. Old-fashioned as it sounds, though, I think there is and always will be a crucial difference between praying and hitting a "send" button.
POSTSCRIPT: Glad to be of service, "Rivendell." I'm guessing you liked Lord of the Rings as much as I did, and I'm happy that Jeff helped me make your day with this post. Thanks to you both! And yes, this particular "prayer" is really just a series of exhortations, isn't it?
9 comments:
I was rather surprised to get that same email last week from a good friend of mine who I believed had absolutely zero superstition in her bones. I too like to tempt the fates and deleted it just before I drove off for a weekend of spiritual exercises.
How silly. A well-meaning priest of my acquaintance used to hand this out to penitents, too. It's hardly a prayer at all: more of an exhortation.
Anyway, I'm not going to hold my breath waiting for evidence that it really came from St. Therese.
I get this off and on and it annoys me greatly. I have a return email composed and saved that emphasizes that Ste. Therese was not New Age and including some prayers (theologically, a bit meatier and much more Eucharistic) that I found on a Carmelite site and that really were written by her. She is my patron saint from my confirmation, and it bugs me that people make up spiritual nonsense in her name, instead of asking for her intercession.
Thanks, Patrick!
I hope you received my response suggesting "The Angelus" as a much more efficacious alternative.
Peace of Christ be with you and your readers.
Jeff
I have received the St Therese chain several times and delete as fast as my little mouse will travel. Thanks, God bless.
I am always bugged by the "Trust God that you are exactly where you are supposed to be" language. When I am in the middle of sin, I am not exactly where I am supposed to be, and trust me, God sure doesn't want me there!
Thanks everyone for your comments. I was almost sucked in because this email was sent to me recently by someone I love and respect. I normally reject chains on principle as they trivialise meaningful communication, try to manipulate, cajole or threaten, and generally churn up my most cynical responses to fellow human beings. Reading other people's comments has helped me clarify a rational response, which is essentially not to waste time on it. My most generous response to it is to think that maybe it's a piece of performance art. I quite like the concept of spirituality via email, because it is so full of contradictions. If the medium is the message, then spiritual 'it aint'! But people might have a genuine spiritual response to it, whatever that might mean. Thought-provoking or just irritating? Enough. It's time to delete it and move on.
I googled this post after receiving my 12th (or so) email about St. Theresa's/Teressa's/Mother Theresa's prayer. New Agey is the word I apply to it too!
In that email, we ordered to make a wish. Since God doesn't respond to wishes, who are we wishing to? The Birthday Fairy?
Hey, Hannigan, your writing sparkles!
Nice to chance across your blog.
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