Prayer was described by the first provincial of our province, Fr. Mannes Cussen OP, in the following terms:

“For the soul, to pray is to live; to cease to pray is to die. The first and foremost necessary thing for the soul is to turn to God, its Maker, Who made it in His Own image for Himself – and to turn to God is to pray. Its whole life is to be attached to the Principle of Life Which is God, that is, to pray. Only as it prays does the soul live. Prayer is the breath of its life.”[1]

Moment by moment, we live our lives in an intimate dependence on God. Being Christian is to acknowledge this dependence, to recognize that, “without God, we can do nothing.” (John 15:5) To be introduced to Christianity is to be introduced into a life of prayer, which is the exultation in this dependence on God. In modern life, there is a persistent tendency to interpret such dependence as a reduction in freedom. This is partly the result of forgetting that much of what we achieve as human beings is achieved in common with others. For St. Thomas Aquinas, friendship is fundamental to understanding who we are. In particular, when he comes to the question of our final destiny, he notes that human beings are created for something which they cannot achieve by their own effort: the vision of God. But for Thomas, this doesn’t demean man, for a person who can achieve something greater with the help of a friend is thereby greater than one who can only achieve something lesser by himself.[2] Further, the relationship of dependence isn’t accidental to man, or to creation itself, but rather part of its being created. God creates and sustains all things in being, as St. Thomas argues.[3] In man, indeed, this relationship is deeper than it is in the rest of creation, for man is created by God, as Fr. Mannes points out above, not only in His own image, but also for Himself. Prayer is the lifeline of this existence of human beings. As human beings, we are privileged to be in this position since we are uniquely capable of returning creation’s thanks to its Creator. If all things are created for the glory of God, then mankind is unique in that, unlike any other creature, we can will to give glory to God. Prayer is the ultimate aim of mankind. As an Order of Preachers, the Dominicans both have their wellsprings and their ultimate aim, in prayer. One of the traditional mottoes of the order, deriving from St. Thomas, expresses this very well, when it claims that the aim of the Dominicans is to contemplate and to give to others the fruits of our contemplation (Contemplare et contemplata aliis tradere).[4] St. Thomas indeed, locates the perfection of Dominican life in the fact that the Order is established for this purpose. Prayer, for Dominicans, can be extraordinarily varied. There is no prescribed Dominican spirituality, and the Dominican approach to contemplation, even amongst the greatest of its saints, is what we would call “down to earth.” Thomas Aquinas, for instance, notices with his usual acuteness that the amount of time for which concentration can be maintained is the length of one “Our Father”, between 15 and 20 seconds! The key to prayer, says St. Thomas is concentration. But upon what ought we to concentrate? Most of us would respond that we should concentrate on the prayers we utter surely! Not so Thomas. To be sure, we must try our best to pray with attention as well as fully intending what we say. But prayer is not, for most of us, most of the time, accompanied by a great feeling of devotion, nor is such prayer automatically a good one. The best antidote to the tendency to presume so would be to reflect that when we pray, we are engaging in an intimate conversation with God, and in any intimate conversation the primary point of focus is not what we are feeling, nor, beyond the immediate intention to be sincere, and to express what we think, the content of our speech, not in other words the subject of the conversation, but its object, the one we are addressing. This is especially true when the one who is being addressed is worthy, or loved. Now, God is both especially worthy and especially worthy of love.[5] Therefore, when we pray, we ought to concentrate on the One to Whom the prayer is addressed. A fitting place to begin our consideration of prayer, therefore, is that prayer, where the object of the prayer, God, and the prayer itself are one: the Mass.

1. The Consummation of the Spiritual Life: The Eucharist in the Order of Preachers

Thomas Aquinas calls the Eucharist “the consummation of the spiritual life.”[6] He explains that this is because the Eucharist is the “sacrifice of the Church.” As another son of St. Dominic explains, the Mass is the “supreme act of the day” within Dominican life.[7] This flows out of the fact that man is created for the praise of God. This praise of God is perfectly fulfilled in Jesus Christ, who is both God and man. As man, He is the head of humanity. Since He is a Divine Person, He is also “the supreme Adorer of the heavenly Father.” As its Head, Christ draws His bride, the Church, into His worship, so that she too offers His sacrifice, i.e. Himself, to the Father continuously. The Dominicans, in imitation of the Incarnate Son of God, and on behalf of, and as part of, God’s bride, the Church, participate in this supreme act of worship, in which God the Son offers Himself to God the Father through God the Spirit. The deep involvement with the liturgy in Dominican life is something which we Dominicans inherit from our father, St. Dominic. Dominic’s devotion to the celebration of the Mass is quite extraordinary in his day, in that even when he is traveling, he celebrated Mass almost every day, unusually for an itinerant preacher. It is recorded that St. Dominic frequently wept at Mass, particularly during the Canon of the Mass, and at the Our Father.[8] Likewise, he is also recorded as having seen a vision of Christ on the Altar, bearing his wounds. Elsewhere, St. Dominic is recorded as having gone from altar to altar, bowing down before the altar (which was not then attached to the tabernacle or directly in front of it as it is in churches constructed after the Council of Trent) “as if Christ, signified by the altar, were truly and personally present” there.[9] As Hinnebusch comments, this reveals “the mystic who almost sees beyond the veil of the Sacrament.” It also reveals a profound depth of devotion to the sacrifice of Christ on the Cross, on behalf of all mankind. St. Thomas explains that the Mass is the “re-presentation of Christ’s passion”, an enactment, rather than a re-enactment of our redemption by Christ. In it, he explains, the priest offering up the sacrifice becomes the image of Christ.[10] As such, he repeats Christ’s gestures in some detail.[11] It is the priest’s words which effect the conversion of the elements into the sacrament.[12] Further, the priest must, for the sake of the completeness of the sacrament, receive it, precisely because it is a sacrifice, and everyone who offers a sacrifice is bound to partake of that sacrifice to show that the outward offering of the sacrifice is matched by the inward offering of oneself, which it signifies. Thus, while outwardly offering the sacrifice of Christ to the Father, the priest must also inwardly offer himself to the Father, and thereby become conformed to Christ. This call to conformity to Christ extends to the laity in its measure,[13] who are likewise called to live by the Christ who we eat (Jn 6:58),[14] though the priest offers the sacrament, in the person of Christ.[15] For St. Thomas, this is a unique privilege of man, even though the Eucharist, being Christ, is food of the angels: Angels do not eat under the sacramental species.[16] Part of what is involved in describing the Eucharist as “the end and consummation of all the sacraments" is that it is towards the reception of the Eucharist that all the other sacraments are ordered.[17] Without at least desiring (implicitly or explicitly) to receive the Eucharist, we cannot be saved.[18] It is through the Eucharist and its effects on our spiritual lives, the gradual conformity to Christ, that human beings achieve the end for which they were created: union with God.[19] Thomas, quoting St. John Damascene, sees the Eucharist as the means of “assuming the Godhead of the Son.”[20] No wonder then, that St. Dominic wept at Mass.

But the Eucharist, as St. Thomas points out, not only offers worship to God the Father, but also is God the Son.[21] Thomas’ own love for the Eucharist is evident in the fact that all the poetry that we have received from him concerns the Eucharist, and was composed for the newly instituted Mass and Office of Corpus Christi in 1264. Each of them is deeply imbued with Eucharistic doctrine, the sequence Lauda Sion in particular reading like a summary of Catholic teaching about the Eucharist, wonderfully celebrated. One of its lines describes Christ with the words “Behold the bread of Angels” In the Summa Theologiae, Thomas explains that the angels adore Christ in perfect charity, we adore Him in faith and hope.[22] The Eucharist in some measure offers us a glimpse of heaven, a share in the adoration of Christ, which is our final end.[23] St. Thomas Aquinas’ hymns are a brilliant exploration from a variety of angles of the mystery of the blessed Eucharist, and its various aspects. Accordingly, adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, outside of the elevation of the Mass, and subsequently the adoration outside of Mass itself, has been part of the tradition of the order, almost since its inception. Since we are material creatures, our senses, and our bodies, play a large role in our prayer. Indeed, exterior humbling of our bodies ought to show our interior humbling, on account of the fact that we are material as well as spiritual.[24] St. Dominic’s prayer, in particular, was intensely physical, involving different postures and often quite loud gestures.[25] The other side of this is that we require material markers for our devotion. The Sacraments, and the Incarnation itself is God’s condescending to assume materiality to bring us closer to himself. The Eucharist thus is an ideal externalization of the Object of our worship. “Blessed are your eyes, for they see” said our Lord, referring to seeing Himself.[26] In faith, but for all that truly, we see Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, and that blessing descends upon us too. Above all, however, adoration of the Blessed Sacrament is a way of appreciating the Mass, Christ offering Himself to the Father through our hands and mouths, and drawing us into the life of the Trinity. The primary extension of the Mass throughout the day is the Divine Office. To this we now turn.

2. The Delights of Psalmody: The Divine Office and Conventual Prayer in Dominican Life

The Divine Office, whose name derives from the Benedictine word for it, the Opus Dei, consists of a recitation of a prescribed set of psalms, with canticles, readings, responsories and hymns, at certain hours throughout the day. The Office is described by the Second Vatican Council as part of Christ’s associating of the Church with Himself, in His own constant canticle of divine praise:

“By tradition going back to early Christian times, the divine office is devised so that the whole course of the day and night is made holy by the praises of God. Therefore, when this wonderful song of praise is rightly performed by priests and others who are deputed for this purpose by the Church's ordinance, or by the faithful praying together with the priest in the approved form, then it is truly the voice of the bride addressed to her bridegroom; lt is the very prayer which Christ Himself, together with His body, addresses to the Father.”[27]

Accordingly, St. Dominic’s devotion to the Mass extended to the Divine Office. It is recorded that he always celebrated the Office at the prescribed hours when on his travels, and when in a house of the order, always attended choir with his brethren.[28] The Office is a common prayer, like the Mass itself, though it can be said by oneself. St. Dominic, accordingly is recorded as having gone around “on each side of the choir urging the brethren by word and example to sing well and attentively and to recite the psalms devoutly.”[29] In the singing of Office too, he “often seen lifted suddenly out of himself and raised up with God and the angels.”[30] Humbert of Romans, another Master of the Order, sees the Office as reflecting Christ’s passion as well as sanctifying the entire day. Thus, the hours of the day at which the prayers are supposed to be said relate to the times that Our Lord went through different stages of His passion. Humbert urges the laity to add their prayers to that of the clergy and religious.[31] Elsewhere, he again speaks of the Church’s song of psalmody which welcomes God, drives away sorrow, and counters the song of the world. Humbert expects all, including the laity to join in the Office.[32] The Office has certainly been in large part a public prayer that included the laity. St. Catherine of Siena, who represents this tradition of lay involvement in the Office, prayed and obtained the boon of being able to read in order to recite the Office, which she subsequently did with great ardor. The Office of Compline, or Night Prayer, is also the occasion of a story from the early days of the order involving St. Dominic’s successor as Master of the Order, Bl. Jordan of Saxony:

“When on his way home to his convent with a fresh batch of novices, as they were all saying compline together, one of them fell to laughing, and the rest catching on joined in right heartily. Upon this one of the blessed Master's companions made a sign for them to be quiet, which only set them off laughing more than ever. When the blessing had been given at the end of compline, the Master turning to this friar rebuked him sharply: 'Brother, who made you their master? What right have you to take them to task?' Then addressing the novices very gently, he said, 'Laugh to your hearts' content, my dearest children, and don't stop on that man's account. You have my full leave, and it is only right that you should laugh after breaking from the devil's thraldom, and bursting the shackles in which he held you fast these many years past. Laugh on, then, and be as merry as you please, my darling sons.'”[33]

Clearly, the Office was (and still is in Dominican priories) the source of joy, and occasionally even mirth. The Office, being common prayer, structures the prayer and the life of the entire community. It punctuates the day and directs it, or redirects it to God. It is also a moment when the community is united or reunited. There is some variation in the customs of recitation of the Office from one house to another, but within a fairly well-defined range. The Office supports and extends the Mass, and serves to return praise to God on behalf of the world. In turn this flows into private prayer, which can take several forms. One favorite staple of Dominican private prayer is the Lectio Divina, or Holy Reading. This involves slow and meditative reading of the Scriptures, followed by a meditation upon a particular small part of the text that strikes us, flowering out into prayer, and the contemplation of God. Adoration is another private prayer. But the most famous Dominican private prayer is the Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary. To her then, let us turn.

3. Virgo Prædicanda: The Mother of God in the Order of Preachers

The Order has always had a special devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Mother of God. Indeed, the Lives of the Brethren sees the Order as having been founded as a result of her prayers. The accounts relate to Our Lady’s concern for the salvation of “poor sinners” and of heretics. Indeed, she who became as a human being, the Mother of God has always been a good counter to the chief heresy with which the early Dominicans were preoccupied – Manicheanism. Manicheans saw the body and matter in general as an evil created by the force of evil, as against the spirit which was created by the good God. Thus, the spirit had to be liberated from the body. Against this, the Christian contention has always been to insist on the tremendous fact that God took flesh of a woman and became man. Mary is also exemplary in another way, as St. Augustine, who Dominicans frequently refer to as “our Holy Grandfather” points out, to preachers. We cannot preach a Christ who we do not have, and we cannot show something about Christ, if we do not see it ourselves. Indeed, we cannot show Christ to others, if he is not at work within us. Mary heard the Word, assented to him, kept him in her heart, pondered on him, and finally brought him forth into the world, heard him, and pondered on him again. As Augustine said:

“It means more for her, an altogether greater blessing, to have been Christ’s disciple, than to have been Christ’s mother. That is why Mary was blessed, because even before she gave him birth, she bore her teacher in her womb … So that’s why Mary too is blessed, because she heard the word of God and kept it. She kept truth safe in her mind even better than she kept flesh safe in her womb.”^[34]

Likewise, Augustine argues, we, the members of Christ, must bear Christ in our own minds in order to preach Him. In this, our Lady is the best of exemplars.

One of the earliest devotions within the order to Our Lady, is the singing of the Salve Regina. Blessed Jordan of Saxony narrates in the Libellus how a brother in the early days saw a vision, when the Salve was being sung, casting herself before God and praying for the preservation of the Order. In the Lives of the Brethren, there are several stories of Our Lady visiting the choir during the singing of the Salve by the brethren. Blessed Sadoc and his 8 Dominican companions were martyred by the Tartars while singing the Salve in Sandomiercz in Poland. It was this that gave rise to the custom of singing the Salve at the deathbed of a dying friar or sister.

One devotion deeply associated with the Order of Preachers is the Rosary. Though there is no mention of this in the early histories, Our Lady is supposed to have appeared to St. Dominic and given him the Rosary as a means of combating the heresy of Manicheanism. Whatever the truth be of this story, it is certainly the case that the Rosary is a great way of meditating upon the life of Christ, bringing before and meditating upon various scenes in the life of Christ and our Lady. The Rosary reveals something quite profound about Christian prayer: that it is ultimately an act of contemplating God, as He has revealed Himself to us in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In this sense, as our Lord said to Mary and Martha, ultimately prayer, the contemplation of God as He has revealed Himself to us, is the end of Christian life. The Rosary by its very repetitiveness forces the issue of prayer, which can often be mechanical and dry. We tend to “say our prayers” far more often than we pray (and this does not mean to say that we shouldn’t say our prayers even if we do not “feel” ourselves praying: Quite the opposite). If we do not pray the Rosary, it too can become a mere mechanical repetition. But the Rosary also provides a solution to mechanical prayer in its relentless focus on Jesus Christ, and the specific things that God has done in and for humanity. The point is not Mary but our need for God, and on God’s response to that need in Jesus Christ. Mary was part of God’s plan for the redemption of mankind, and the closest human being to Jesus. As such, she occurs repeatedly in the Rosary, but the logic of the Rosary is the figure of Jesus. To focus on Jesus is not, and ought not to be, entirely easy. After all, we are sinful and unworthy human beings, and He whom we worship bore in His own body the consequence of our sins. Thus, this author at least finds the Rosary difficult to pray, but also very fruitful.

In addition to its focus on the life, death and resurrection of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the source of all our hope, the Rosary in particular, and devotions to our Lady in general show the response to the action of the Holy Spirit in human beings. The Angelus encapsulates this perfectly in its focussing just on that instant of Our Lady conceiving Jesus “of the Holy Spirit”. Dominicans have always insisted that Divine action precedes, moves, sustains, and fulfils human effort.[35] To God the Holy Spirit, then, of whom Our Lord Jesus Christ was conceived, let us now turn.

4. “Veni, Sancte Spiritus”: The Dominican Devotion to the Holy Spirit

St. Thomas describes the third Person of the Blessed Trinity using three terms: Holy Spirit, love, and gift. Thomas sees the Holy Spirit as being exchanged in a bond of love between the Father and the Son.[36] Our own lives in God are called “spiritual life” precisely because, as St. Thomas points out, the power to love God properly comes from the gift of the Holy Spirit. But this gift is the same gift, we might note, as that which is exchanged between the Father and the Son, the bond of their love. Further, we ourselves receive the Holy Spirit through the Son’s mediatory and redeeming act upon the Cross, as a result we might say, of God breathing on our faces. Thus the gift of the Holy Spirit offers us a participation in the very life of the Holy Trinity. It is this in which our blessedness consists, this which the Eucharist brings about, this which is the source and summit of all our hopes – being taken up into the life of the Holy Trinity. Even in the human sphere, it is the indwelling of the Holy Spirit within us, which makes our own action fruitful and which informs (inbreathes we might say) any genuine love we bear for one another. It is the Holy Spirit which forms the life of the Church. The Holy Spirit is said to be proceeding from the Father through the Son. It proceeds between the two within the Trinity itself, and in mission outward toward the world.[37] Yves Congar, the great Dominican twentieth century theologian, points out that the Spirit is the principle of unity within both the Trinity and the Church, bringing together its diversity of culture, of function, and ultimately of persons. The coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost with the gift of unity reverses Babel, where mankind constructed for itself a false unity. He also transforms us, and informs the way in which we live, by the infusion of charity into our souls, making us individually, and as a Church Holy. It is the Holy Spirit on account of Whom we can say “Holy Things for the Holy!” as a reference to the Eucharist. Despite all our sinfulness, for as long as we have not extinguished within us the life of the Holy Spirit, for as long as we are in grace, we are Holy, not on our own account, although that transformation is also taking place within us by the presence of the Spirit, but on account of the Holy Spirit vivifying the Church. It is the Spirit too, which when we have lost our innocence restores it by re-entering our souls in Confession. For Dominicans, however, it is the role of the Holy Spirit as witness which holds a special significance. First and foremost as preachers, we are preaching the Trinity and the Incarnation, the wonders of God, and the wonders of what God has done in and for humanity. But it is the Spirit which alone can truly preach, since it is the Spirit which knows the Godhead (Cf. 1 Cor 2:11), and which communicates that mystery to us. But in revealing us the Godhead, the Spirit reveals us to ourselves, for it is within the mystery of participation within the Trinity that we will find our fulfillment as adopted children of God the Father, through God the Son, and in the Holy Spirit. It is the Spirit who makes us children of God, and shows us endlessly what we are, as well as what we are called to be. A preacher thus works within the activity of the Holy Spirit, which transcends him, but which makes his own preaching fruitful. Prayer also is primarily a work of the Holy Spirit. It is the Spirit which will pray in us in sighs too deep for words (Romans 8:26). Part of the reasoning behind this statement lies in the nature of prayer as conversation with God. Any conversation implies a certain equality, and conversation with God is conducted by God, and by us only as a gift, a gift for which we were created, but a gift nonetheless. So, it is God the Spirit which speaks in us, members of God the Son, in our true prayer to God the Father. Few have shown the wonders of life in the Spirit as has the great Dominican Catherine of Siena. To her then, let us now turn.

5. “Glory be to the Father, and to You, and to the Holy Spirit”: Saint Catherine of Siena and Blessed Raymond of Capua

Bl. Raymond of Capua, St. Catherine of Siena’s biographer, and sometime confessor, tells us that Christ often visited St. Catherine of Siena, surely one of the order’s most beloved saints, and they would converse together, even saying the psalms together “like two religious brothers saying their office.” During these meetings, in saying the Glory be, she would bow to the Lord and say “Glory be to the Father, and to You, and to the Holy Spirit!” This narrative gives us a very good insight into the extraordinary character of St. Catherine, and her intimacy with God. To explore St. Catherine’s life is beyond our scope here. Rather, we are concerned with Catherine as a woman of prayer. Prayer, returning to Fr. Mannes, is a conversation with God, and occurs in the context of the presence of God. For Catherine, prayer, in accordance with the words of our Lord, occurs within an “interior castle” into which the soul has entered. The cloister, for Catherine, as for all active religious and laity, is not bound by the walls of a monastery or a cell, though Catherine spent three years, from the age of sixteen to nineteen, in a room in her father’s house, living the life of an anchoress. But the experience of living in intimacy with God which she took from these three years stayed with her throughout her life, and prayer was not a set of petitions for her, although few asked for and obtained so many and such wonderful things from God as did St. Catherine. Rather prayer was living with Christ at every moment, adoring His beauty and the wonders of His love which fills all things. One of Catherine’s most frequent forms of address, with which she ended her every letter are the words “Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love.” For Catherine, the fulfillment of prayer in heaven is the complete vision of “the praise and glory of [His] Name in everything” which ends “the pain of desire … but not the desire”[38] Earthly prayer is in some way a preparation for, as well as an anticipation of, this consummation. But the experience of the love of God expresses itself in a love of one’s neighbour, since the vision of God entails the vision of God’s love for every rational creature. To attain such perfection of love, the soul must move from its imperfect the love of God for His sweetness, through the Cross of Christ who is the bridge between mankind and God, to the perfect love of Christ for His own sake. But always the neighbour is present. Indeed, unless united with love for neighbour, love of God cannot exist at all. This showed itself in Catherine’s life in concern for the salvation of her neighbour. So much so, that, at one stage, she said to her confessor, Bl. Raymond of Capua, that she is responsible for the sins of the whole world. Queried as to how she could possibly be responsible for those sins, she answered:

“Is it not a fact that if I were truly on fire with the love of God, and really prayed to my Creator with a soul enkindled with the love of him, he, being Mercy itself, would grant his mercy to all those people, and would in his goodness bring it about that they would all be set on fire with that same fire of love which ought to be enkindled in myself?

"What is it that prevents that happening? Obviously, nothing but my sins. The fault cannot be that of the Creator himself, for in him there can be no defect. It must therefore be in me, and it must come from me."

Catherine’s view of prayer and holiness, or the view with which she is herself presented by God the Father is one where the soul rejoices in the prayer of others, and in the different ways in which the different souls pray and wind their way to God. There is something almost uniquely Dominican in this, since the Dominican focus is on God Himself, and the different ways of prayer are means to attain that end. There is no single “Dominican Spirituality”, and according to what suits each soul, different schools of prayer can be followed in freedom, provided they lead to God. One could cite many wonderful prayers written by Catherine. Here are a couple:

We were enclosed,
O eternal Father,
within the garden of your breast.
You drew us out of your holy mind
like a flower
petaled with our soul's three powers,
and into each power
you put the whole plant,
so that they might bear fruit in your garden,
might come back to you
with the fruit you gave them.
And you would come back to the soul,
to fill her with your blessedness.
There the soul dwells --
like the fish in the sea
and the sea in the fish.

Much of Catherine’s prayer, like the above consist of descriptions of God and our relationship to Him:

O Eternal God! O Eternal Trinity! Through the union of Thy divine nature Thou hast made so precious the Blood of Thine only-begotten Son! O eternal Trinity, Thou art as deep a mystery as the sea, in whom the more I seek, the more I find; and the more I find, the more I seek. For even immersed in the depths of Thee, my soul is never satisfied, always famished and hungering for Thee, eternal Trinity, wishing and desiring to see Thee, the True Light.

O eternal Trinity, with the light of understanding I have tasted and seen the depths of Thy mystery and the beauty of Thy creation. In seeing myself in Thee, I have seen that I will become like Thee. O eternal Father, from Thy power and Thy wisdom clearly Thou hast given to me a share of that wisdom which belongs to Thine Only-begotten Son. And truly hast the Holy Spirit, who procedeth from Thee, Father and Son, given to me the desire to love Thee.

O eternal Trinity, Thou art my maker and I am Thy creation. Illuminated by Thee, I have learned that Thou hast made me a new creation through the Blood of Thine Only-begotten Son because Thou art captivated by love at the beauty of Thy creation.

O eternal Trinity, O Divinity, O unfathomable abyss, O deepest sea, what greater gift could Thou givest me then Thy very Self? Thou art a fire that burns eternally yet never consumed, a fire that consumes with Thy heat my self-love. Again and again Thou art the fire who taketh away all cold heartedness and illuminateth the mind by Thy light, the light with which Thou hast made me to know Thy truth.

By this mirrored light I know Thou are the highest good, a good above all good, a fortunate good, an incomprehensible good, an unmeasurable good, a beauty above all beauty, a wisdom above all wisdom, for Thou art wisdom itself, the the food of angels, the fire of love that Thou givest to man.

Thou art the garment covering our nakedness. Thou feedest our family with Thy sweetness, a sweetness Thou art from which there is no trace of bitterness. O Eternal Trinity! Amen.

Bl. Raymond of Capua was appointed by the Dominican Order as a spiritual director to Catherine of Siena. God Himself directed him to her, it is said, at Mass on one feast of St. John the Baptist, saying: "This is my beloved servant. This is he to whom I will entrust you." In the end, it was probably Catherine who formed Raymond much more than Raymond guiding Catherine, although she was an obedient charge. She helped him reform the order when he was elected Master of the Order, returning it to its primitive observance. Much of Raymond’s own personality is obscured by that of Catherine. It was she for instance, who taught him to enter into a cell of prayer and carry it around with him. Raymund, however wrote of Catherine, and popularized her work. He is often considered a second founder of the Order, for his work of reform. But like the first, he recedes into the background in favour of the Order itself, and the God he served. In this, he represents a perfect way to conclude our consideration of prayer in the Dominican Order. Ultimately, prayer is about God and rejoicing in His gifts to us. It is prayer that we locate our own biographies. In the Dominican saints, well-known or obscure, their lives are consumed by their prayer.