Have you ever considered that the true power of prayer might lie in its ability to foster compassion within us? In this episode Fr David Hore, a Redemptorist priest shares an enlightening perspective on how prayer can extend beyond our own desires to resonate with the struggles and triumphs of those around us. David eloquently explains how we can transform our prayer into an act of deep solidarity, creating a bridge to a more united humanity.

Seeking solace in the divine often involves a heartfelt plea for personal guidance, but as Fr David illustrates, there’s an even greater depth to be discovered when we intertwine our spirits with others in prayer. He emphasises the importance of a compassionate approach to our spiritual lives, where empathy becomes action, and the act of listening becomes a profound gesture of support. Join us to uncover the immeasurable impact compassionate prayer can have, not only on the lives of others but on the very essence of our being.

In this Prayer is Life podcast, the discussion will centre around compassion. These podcasts are aimed at providing listeners with a better understanding about prayer and what prayer can do for you.

True prayer is born out of compassion.

I think prayer that excludes others really isn’t Christian prayer. Real prayer always has an outward dimension to it. Though it comes from within, its effects flow out to others. And so prayer must touch not only the lips, but the heart and the hands as well. It must express itself in action as well as in words. The great St Teresa of Avila says that: “I would not give much for that sort of prayer that is always just turned inwards and thinks only of itself”.

True prayer is born out of compassion. Compassion not in the sense of pity or even sympathy, but it’s that deepest sense of sharing with and entering into the passion of another human being. To say, I’ll pray for you is one thing. To witness to the reality of that prayer in deeds of love is in fact the test.

Compassion is a shared togetherness.

Compassion is not just a feeling for someone. It’s much more a feeling with. It’s a oneness, a togetherness. It’s much more a question of being rather than of doing, of reaching out and into another person’s experience in order to make it our own. The root of compassion is solidarity. The basic reality of our shared human experience. And solidarity is something that Pope Francis has spoken of so often. That right across the world, every human being shares in a common humanity. We’re all so much alike. We’re all full of hopes, dreams and promises. Yet all the while we’re all hurt, wounded and scarred. The same current runs through all of us. Fear and joy, laughter and sorrow, tears and smiles. There’s no human response that we experience today that someone else will not experience tomorrow or has not already done so. No fear, no worry, no anxiety, no joy, no happiness. We’re all profoundly connected in our human solidarity. We need others just as much as they need us. We belong to others just as much as we belong to ourselves. And to know another human being is to really enter into his or her passion and to awaken within ourselves the joys and the sorrows of our shared human condition.

Compassion unlocks a tenderness in people.

Compassion is concerned with feelings, not so much with ideas or insights. It means putting ourselves in another person’s shoes, kind of wearing the same clothes, feeling the same feelings, sharing the same emotions. And then compassion unlocks that beautiful, deep human tenderness and care for another.

Compassion takes what it finds, the raw, brute reality of each human experience. It’s not concerned with problems, but with people. Or rather, the one unique human being with whom that compassion seeks to identify. And so compassion doesn’t seek to solve even when a solution is obvious or to argue when the situation is negative. It doesn’t need to judge or give advice or offer directions. It’s not afraid of silence or of tears or of laughter. Rather, it’s that quality of offering to another person a free space and a safe place within which they can feel at home.

I find this especially as a priest when people come to meet me. And very often, they come to talk about the struggles of life or some situation that’s giving them real trouble. It might be a personal situation, a family situation, a marital situation, something to do with their children. Now, I can’t solve those problems. And it’s difficult to be able to give advice or offer direction. But what I can really do is to sit and be present and try to enter as fully as possible into the life of that human being and walk with them, symbolically to take them by the hand and walk with them on the journey that they’re making in their lives to discover the answer for themselves. And I’m trying to seek to identify with that person and not so much with the problem but with that individual human person who’s sitting in front of me, who’s experiencing so much in their life but who wants someone to reach out and to be with them and to provide that space, that safe place where they can be at home and where they can share honestly and openly without judgment or without criticism. And as we’ve discussed in a previous podcast, the listening aspect is so important.

When I’m with people, I try to say as little as possible. I’m constantly trying to listen, to check that I’ve heard exactly correctly what they’ve said to me and then to perhaps offer some kind of reflection back of what I’ve heard because sometimes in hearing it back, it can make more sense. And also it’s when people articulate what’s happening within them, when they can kind of put some words around the experience and bring it outside themselves, they can begin to see it and play with it and explore what could be possible. And I’m there to try and facilitate that, if you like, and walk, as I said, symbolically take them by the hand and walk them through that and see if they can discover what might be possible in this situation. But it requires me to be present and to be listening attentively. Yes, and that’s so important.

A compassionate God

We know God as a merciful God and Jesus was also moved with great compassion, as we know. We think of the leper, the blind man, the adulterous woman and the thief on the cross who all recognised Jesus’ humanity.

In the Scriptures, God shows himself as a God of mercy and compassion. To Moses on Mount Sinai, God revealed himself as the God of tenderness and compassion, slow to anger, rich in kindness, abounding in mercy. And unlike the gods of the surrounding nations, Israel’s God was a personal God. One who had come into their lives, worked signs and wonders and God led them out of slavery, through the desert and into their own land. This was a God who was close to God’s people and God revealed God’s name to them. God fought their battles, healed their wounds and carried them on eagles’ wings. He was their God and they were his people. But there was a much greater revelation to come.

And in Jesus, we see the fullness of God’s compassion. God truly with us, having the human face, the human heart, sharing our flesh and blood. Now God was a partner, a companion in our human weak condition. Weak, vulnerable, fragile. Like us in all things, but sin we are told. Especially the things that make us most human. Our tears and laughter, our fears and joys, our hopes and disappointments.

So if we’re to listen to our own hearts, we’re listening to the hearts of all men and women and hearing their cries for help. Empathising, I guess, with their difficulties, their sadness, their predicaments.

It’s out of this sort of compassion that true prayer is born. If prayer is turning to God, it’s also a turning towards others. Identifying with them as we walk the road of life together. Real prayer has no boundaries of race, language or creed. Real prayer sees only a brother or a sister. Someone with whom we share a mutual struggle, a mutual destiny, a mutual humanity. And across the barriers of language or land or race, we’re all one. And it’s in that oneness that we find the heart of God and the heart of all of our fellow pilgrims on the journey.

So compassionate prayer is the daily admission of human weakness. It’s the humble acknowledgement of our need for each other as much as our need for God. And prayer makes us stop and listen. It invites us to pay attention and be aware. And if we listen to our own hearts, we’re listening to the heart of all men and women. And when we hear the cry of the poor, we’re admitting our own poverty and our own helplessness. To pray for someone is not a subtle effort to influence the will of God. Rather, it’s to invite them into our own hearts and make their needs our own. It’s not just a question of remembering or praying for a sick friend, an unemployed neighbour, a distressed relative, but somehow becoming those for whom we pray.

We stand with them shoulder to shoulder before the face of God. And our prayer becomes theirs. Their cry becomes ours. And together we place ourselves and our needs before God and open our hearts to the healing power of God’s spirit.

Wonderful. David, on that note, we might say goodbye for this podcast, but compassion, as we know, it’s just vital. Otherwise, to me, there’s no life.

Any prayer that excludes others isn’t Christian prayer. It always has that outward compassionate dimension to it.