"Developing a Palate for Prayer"

I had the privilege of spending the last ten weeks at the Institute for Priestly Formation on the campus of Creighton University in Omaha, NE. Over one hundred seventy-five seminarians from seventy different dioceses in the United States gathered together to focus on our spiritual formation as men discerning a priestly vocation. In addition to speaking to us about topics such as priestly identity, celibacy, human sexuality, discernment, etc., much of the program worked with developing our life of prayer.

I cannot adequately express to you how grace-filled the summer was for me and how much of a gift it was to me personally. Despite the many graces that were received, they did not all come easily. During the first week of the program, the faculty began to talk to us about our spiritual senses and “tasting” God in our prayer. I had no idea what they meant by “tasting” God and thought that use of language was completely ridiculous. Despite my silent objections to the use of the word I heard it over and over throughout the first few weeks. At first I was not entirely sure why I had such a strong objection to the word ‘taste.’ I think part of the objection was that I did not understand what they meant and felt a little too embarrassed to ask. It was easier for me to say something like, “that language is not for me,” or “that is not my style of prayer.” I was upset with myself because I wanted to remain open to the material being presented and did not want to close myself off to the graces that God was trying to give me through the presentations simply because I objected to the manner in which a word was being used. I was reminded of a saying that my high school economics teacher enjoyed sharing with us, “we mock what we don’t understand.” The truth was I didn’t understand but I wanted to. I desperately wanted my prayer life to improve. I desperately wanted to know what they meant by ‘tasting’ God. I wanted the intimate prayer life they seemed to have but was a little embarrassed to admit my ignorance. Who of us really wants to admit that we don’t know how to pray as we should? (See Rom 8:26). I took the matter to prayer and over several weeks an image developed in my heart that opened my eyes just a little bit to what is meant by ‘tasting’ God in prayer. I want to share that image with you now.

I made the trip to Omaha with a brother seminarian from the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston. The first night of the trip we stopped and stayed at a hotel in Wichita, KS. My brother seminarian and I decided to share a bottle of wine with dinner. When the wine arrived I made good use of my Cruise Ship Wine Tasting Class skills to act as though I knew what I was doing in tasting the wine. I went through all the external acts. I examined the cork. I looked at the color of the wine. I swirled the wine around in the glass. I inhaled the bouquet and considered the smell for a moment before taking my first sip. I paused in silence for a few moments as I considered the taste of the wine before I indicated my approval. I am telling on myself but I am a bit of a poser when it comes to wine connoisseurship. All the motions and actions I performed boil down to whether I thought the taste of the wine was pleasurable or not.

After a few sips of wine my friend looked at the label on the bottle and said, “Hmmm. I had no idea that there was mint in this wine.” I took another taste of the wine and immediately I could detect the taste of mint. I have tasted mint before and have been taught to know what mint tastes like. Just by hearing my friend say the word ‘mint’ I could imagine the taste in my mind. Therefore when I went to take another drink of the wine I knew what to look for. Amongst the many ingredients that went into the wine, I could sift through them and identify the mint.

As I reflected on this experience, I realized that the same thing applies to ‘tasting’ God in prayer. You see, wine connoisseurship is not a skill that you can learn by simply reading a book. Your palate for wine can only be developed by someone placing the various ingredients in front of you, telling you what they are, and having you taste them repeatedly. Eventually you acquire the ability to detect these tastes amidst an assortment of ingredients. It takes an experienced connoisseur to pass the skill on to you. Over the course of my life I have had several priests, spiritual directors, and other people of prayer help me learn to sort through the various ‘tastes’ of prayer in order to discern what is of God and what is not. As I continue to grow in my relationship with God, I realize that I am slowly developing a refined palate for my prayer.

However, while it may be fun to blindfold a wine taster and ask him/her to tell you what ingredients are in the wine, there is simply no substitute for reading the list of ingredients printed on the label. The label of prayer is of course Sacred Scripture. It is through Scripture that God reveals Himself to us and makes us aware of His presence in our lives. He tells us what to look for. He tells us where to find Him. He tells us of His desire to love us and to be in communion with us. Through Mass, study of Sacred Scripture, prayer groups, spiritual direction, etc., we begin to define our palate of prayer so that our time with the Lord is a more pleasurable, consoling, and edifying experience.

There is one last part of the meditation that I want to share with you. I like a good dry red wine. I like it bold and full of spice. However, the same cannot be said of my prayer. I know that I am not alone in my experiences of frustration when I think that my prayer is ‘dry’ or I will sometimes say, “Nothing is happening.” I hope that most of us have experienced a consoling moment of prayer where we could not doubt the presence of God. We often wonder why prayer cannot be like that every time we pray. The warm and fuzzy ‘taste’ of prayer is often what we are seeking. Then I realized that there is no less fruit in a dry merlot than there is in a delicate Riesling, a Northern Italian red, or a fine glass of port. In the same way there is much fruit to be ‘tasted’ in those dry moments of prayer. God is no less present or at work in dry moments of prayer as He is in those times of great consolation. However, without a refined palate to sort out the different tastes, we may miss Him.

The key is to keep tasting the wine. Don’t forget the health benefits of a glass a day. Remain steadfast in prayer. Don’t forget to look at the label often. Find someone that you can talk to about your prayer life who can work with you in refining your palate for prayer. Take a retreat once a year and go to confession often as a means of cleansing your palate. If you haven’t already ‘tasted’ God in your prayer, be patient, because once you do, you will never taste something as glorious, wonderful, or beautiful as the fruit He wants to give you. And keep in mind; I am always willing to sit down with you over a glass of wine!

Pax Tecum,
Tom