The Jesus Prayer for Beginners

This presentation is for those who are beginning the Jesus Prayer. Fr. Maxym Lysack is the pastor of Christ the Saviour Orthodox Church in Ottawa. He gives 12 suggestions for beginners.

  1. Be modest.
    Practice the Jesus Prayer for five minutes or less. This a prayer that is repeated slowly and taken up by the heart, becomes part of who we are. It is not the same type of prayer as one recited from a prayer book.
  2. Don’t rush.
    Do not count how many times you have prayed the prayer. Of course, if you happen to use a prayer rope, you will become aware. But this is not necessary. What is important is to pray the prayer well.
  3. Be careful with your breathing.
    Some of you have read that one can unite your breath with the prayer. It can be a help, and it can be a hindrance as well. If you concentrate on your breathing, you can hyperventilate, a disadvantage. This in turn will change the way you feel. Do not be compelled to unite your breath to the prayer.
  4. You are praying to the Person.
    The Jesus Prayer is addressed to Christ. It is not a way to relax, not a mantra. The purpose of the Jesus Prayer is to pray personally to Christ.
  5. Consider beginning with liturgical prayer and psalms before you begin the Jesus Prayer.
    Instead of just starting the Jesus Prayer five seconds after standing up from your computer, pray for a few minutes from a prayer book, a psalm – this helps the heart to get ready.
  6. Don’t imagine things as you pray the Jesus Prayer.
    It is important not to visualize during the Jesus Prayer. As surprising as this may sound, don’t even imagine Christ. Visualization is not part of prayer. That’s not to say that we don’t visualize during prayer. Don’t plan or intend to visualize. Christ is beyond any image you can bring up. He is still a Person.
  7. Don’t expect instant quiet.
    People often experience more noise than expected. It is wonderful to enter into the heart. We must recognize, though, that while the heart is an inner paradise, it is an injured and damaged inner paradise, and it is full of noise. To take note of this noise is not a bad thing. We need to confront this noise without discouragement. Keep praying, the noise level will come down over time.
  8. Understand that the heart is competent to pray and wounded.
    This is hard for us to grasp. We have sins and passions that come out of the heart; it is not fully functional, and we feel this when we pray. At the same time, the heart was made by God to have direct, unmediated communion with Him. We need to keep in mind that while our hearts are wounded, they are created for prayer.
  9. Know that prayer is a grace and also a work.
    We need to ask the Holy Spirit for help when we pray. Since our baptism, we are trying to draw our prayer towards His prayer within us. It is hard work to pray, to fight distraction, the thoughts and energies that appear not only instantly but even multiplied when we begin to pray. And God gives us grace so that it is balanced with our work. We realise that any sweetness we experience in prayer is all due to His grace.
  10. If you are praying the Jesus Prayer, and you have a strange or odd experience, consult your spiritual father.
    Sometimes we are tempted when we are praying. It is a reality when you are a wounded human being loved by God. Speak to your spiritual father, don’t just leave it. He will help to diagnose the problem, if a problem, and how to address it.
  11. If you practice the Jesus Prayer, you also need to participate in the liturgical life and the Sacraments of the Church.
    It is important to confess your sins, to receive the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. While the Jesus Prayer is a powerful prayer and can bring us into the heavenly places with Him, we need Him in the Sacraments.
  12. Allow the Holy Spirit to lead you to silence.
    If after some time with the Jesus Prayer you believe that the Holy Spirit is leading you to a deeper place where the prayer seems to disappear, then go. The deeper place has no words. St. Isaac the Syrian wrote that silence is the language of the world to come. It is a loaded silence. It is fruitful, full of communication, but it is non-verbal, non-discursive. The Fathers of the Church call it pure prayer, no word, no image. If you are drawn to that type of prayer by Christ, then go with Him. We ought not to be disappointed if pure prayer does not come often. We pray out of obedience and out of love because we need to.

Even if it becomes necessary for you to give your life for her

And even if it becomes necessary for you to give your life for her, yes, and even to endure and undergo suffering of any kind, do not refuse. Even though you undergo all this, you will never have done anything equal to what Christ has done. You are sacrificing yourself for someone to whom you are already joined, but He offered Himself up for one who turned her back on Him and hated Him. In the same way, then, as He honoured her by putting at His feet one who turned her back on Him, who hated rejected, and disdained Him, as He accomplished this not with threats, or violence, or terror, or anything else like that, but through His untiring love; so also you should behave toward your wife.

… So the Church was not pure. She had blemishes, she was ugly and cheap. Whatever kind of wife you marry, you will never take a bride like Christ did when He married the Church; you will never marry anyone estranged from you as the Church was from Christ. Despite all this, He did not abhor or hate her for her extraordinary corruption …

John Chrysostom. Homily 20, On Ephesians 5:22-33.
(Crestwood, New York: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1997), 46.

Photo credit: Homini:)

It Smells Like Love

The five bells began to ring. Their sweet notes grew in size as they floated over the snow-covered neighbourhood. A squirrel, more interested in gathering food than hibernating, stopped in its tracks to listen. The voice of the bells seemed to call for the neighbourhood to awaken from its mid-winter slumber.

The morning sunlight struck their eyes with a sharp intensity as they left the church. Shading his eyes with his hand on his brow, Roman searched for his children finding them playing in the freshly-fallen snow. Taking the hand of his wife, Olenka, they began to walk slowly to the family car parked a few blocks away. Roman found it hard to believe that ten years had passed since they first walked out of St. Vladimir’s Church as husband and wife. The time had gone by so quickly. Olenka squeezed his hand telling him that she wanted to look at him. Roman gazed upon her and thought how beautiful she was, even more beautiful than on their wedding day. How can that be, thought Roman. Olenka’s smiling eyes of blue spoke again to Roman of her love for him.

Their children’s laughter broke the embrace of their eyes. Roman called out, “Children, it’s time to go! Baba will be waiting for us!” Hurriedly, they ran to the car. Olenka was busy brushing the snow off little Ivan’s coat and leggings as Roman cleared the snow off the car’s windshield. Andrew, their 9-year-old-boy, got into the car and claimed the seat behind his father. Helena, 7, decided to sit in the middle of the back seat so she could look after little Ivan, something she loved to do. As Olenka closed her door, Andrew asked his father, “Daddy, will Baba have some fresh bread for us?”

“I certainly hope so,” replied Roman.

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The Lady of Combermere


Under her outstretched arms do I stand,
Nestled in her reach, I place my head,
her touch, motherly and gentle.
I begin to speak of some friends, in various places,
bound and wounded.
Other’s knotted hard knocks give way to my own bounded bindings.
Everything gets told because she has the gift of easy listening.
One simple word,
and that she echoes
from the store of treasures in her heart.

July 1, 2018
Michael Winn

Photo by Eunice and Becca at the faith and peanut butter blog.

The Adventure of Washing Dishes


by Catherine Doherty

What can a person do who tries to love God tremendously?

Everything, from turning the lights off to save electricity to refraining from getting new clothes all the time, to not being picky about food, to going where God calls you.

Once I know God’s will, I am going to try to do it perfectly. My heart swells and I say, “This also, Lord, for love of you.” I know very well its redemptive value.

Here’s another way of putting it: I have empty hands. I consider that I have to bring something to the altar to offer at my next Mass.

What can I bring? I can bring clothing washed with great love, understanding full well that because of my attention, these clothes have redemptive value. I can bring hours of conversation or letters written with attention to details.

It never occurs to me that I can possibly separate anything from love. For example, I will speak of washing dishes. If I have the attitude that this is a beautiful little thing that I can give God, then washing a cup becomes an adventure. Do you get the picture?

Every little thing should be done perfectly, completely connected with God. Otherwise, it ceases to be interesting. It has no sense and no being.

No matter what their job, everyone has to do little things. But for us at Madonna House, doing them with our whole hearts is of the essence of our vocation.

Adapted from Grace in Every Season, (2001), January 10, pp.26-27, available from MH Publications.

Years Ago


Years ago, beyond my memory,
my father stood with his arms outstretched.
With his words of encouragement,
I reached for him,
and, with exhilaration in eyes and breath,
I took my first steps —
from infancy to childhood.

Years ago, faded in my memory,
my father stood with his arms outstretched.
With his words of encouragement,
I looked to him,
and, with exhilaration in eyes and breath,
I caught my first fish by myself —
from childhood to adolescence.

Years ago, recent in my memory,
my father stood with his arms outstretched.
With his words of encouragement,
I embraced him,
and, with exhilaration in eyes and breath,
I departed on my own journey —
from adolescence to adulthood.

Years ago, still fresh in my memory,
my father stood with his arms outstretched.
With his words of encouragement,
I imitated him,
and, with exhilaration in eyes and breath,
I trusted and submitted to the One-Who-Is —
from adulthood to sonship.

Love… love… love, never counting the cost.

Present now, no need for my memory,
my Father stands with His arms outstretched.
With His words of encouragement,
I bow before Him,
and, with exhilaration in eyes and breath,
I desire and ask for the enlarging of my heart —
now and forevermore.

July 19, 2015
Michael Winn



separated, cold, unhung
sit the images
floating, drifting
with effort, with cause
each seeking to be the Whole
in its own right.
my Author weeps with salty, solicitous streams
of His inner Self.
Reconciliation of the mass,
of that once bountiful state of creation,
seems inconceivable;
yet, the pericopes of the Masterswork
pursue their identity, missing
the moment
of that which is yearned and feared
in the same Breath.

February 4, 1989
Michael Winn

The Stillness of the Voice


Oh, how my heart yearns
to hear the stillness of the Voice
that speaks to my inner soul.
My longing seems unanswered.
He comes and the absence is
full of completeness. I Am
beckons to my cries of anguish
and comforts my coldness.
The warmth of the Light is
the food for my travels. I
wander yet am led.
I Am, he is the life of my soul.

January 10, 1988
Michael Winn

St. John’s Night


by Thomas Merton

Now where the hills of Languedoc are blue with vineyards
Swimming to the brows of the low ridges brown as shells,
A thousand villages begin to name your night with fires.

The flames that wake as wide as faith,
Opening their fierce and innocent eyes from hell to hill
In the midsummer nightfall
Burn at the ageless cross-roads these their
Pagan and converted fires.

All the dark shocks of the fair summer’s harvest
Rise up in the deep fields
Where for two thousand years, St. John,
Your fires are young among us:
They cry out there, loud as was your desert testimony,
Out at the crossing of the vineyard roads
Where once the wheat sheaves wept with blood
In warning to the sickles of the manichees.

And in our hearts, here in another nation
Is made your deep midsummer night.
It is a night of other fires,

Wherein all thoughts, all wreckage of the noisy world
Swim out of ken like leaves, or smoke upon the pools of wind.

Oh, listen to that darkness, listen to that deep darkness,
Listen to those seas of darkness on whose shores we stand and die.
Now can we have you, peace, now can we sleep in
Your will, sweet God of peace?
Now can we have Your Word and in Him rest?

Prophet and hermit, great John-Baptist,
You who brought us to the door-sill of your wilderness,
You who have won for us
The first faint savor of the word’s desertion:
When shall we have to eat the things that we have barely tasted?
When shall we have your own vast loneliness’s holy honeycomb?

You hold in your hands, lo! more than Baptism:
the fruits and three virtues and the seven presents.
We wait upon your intercessions:
Or die we without mercy on the rim of those impossible shores?

Kindle, kindle in this wilderness
The tracks of those wonderful fires:
Clean us and lead us in the new night, with the power of Elias
and find us out the summits of the love and prayer
That wisdom wants of us, oh Bridegroom’s Friend!

And take us to the secret tents,
The sacred, unimaginable tabernacles
Burning upon the hills of our desire!