Jan 17, 2019
When the good folks who organize perpetual adoration are trying to recruit adorers – a formidable and honorable task to be sure, one I certainly couldn’t do – this is the verse they often use on the flyer: “Can you not stay awake with me one hour?” And this, of course, recalls the Lord’s words to his sleepy disciples who kept nodding off while he was in prayerful agony anticipating his passion.
An extraordinary moment is captured in that verse, and I understand why they choose it. It is a remarkable accounting of the Lord’s deep desire for our friendship, our company. It also recalls the natural entreaty of a man in need of support and the failure of human weakness. What it does not immediately recall is joy.
In recent years, in addition to my usual holy hour commitments, I’ve started serving as a substitute adorer. Once every few months I am asked to take one of the “ironman hours” – those brutal hours between 2 am and 5 am, in many ways the hidden life blood of perpetual adoration.
When I was young and healthier, keeping a holy hour in the middle of the night was a common habit, and frankly, fairly easy for me. With more than half my life behind me and a slightly less healthy body, a holy hour in the middle of the night, though I cherish this intimate time with Jesus, has taken on a new timbre of sacrifice, but far more importantly, joy.