As the Diocese of Allentown recently finished up its “Year of Real Presence” (yearofrealpresence.org), the Catholic Bishops of the United States began a three-year Eucharistic Revival (eucharisticrevival.org), encouraging deeper understanding and living out of Jesus’ greatest gift of Himself, Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity, under the appearances of bread and wine.

Parish renewal in Eucharistic Adoration was an intended aim of the Year of Real Presence. SS. Peter and Paul continues to display the Blessed Sacrament for adoration, expressed in both communal and personal prayer. Would that more people signed up for a dedicated 30- or 60-minute time slot, or stopped in for the briefest visit.

Many of us don’t mind joining in group prayer, and will say formal prayers alone, especially if it means we don’t have to “make anything up” on our own! But all the prayers on paper, even those that come from Sacred Scripture, have the ideal complement in the “heart contrite and humbled” that the Lord “will not spurn” (Psalm 51:17), the heart that engages Him in our own words or lack of words.

In his short but substantial book “How to Pray,” theologian David Torkington discusses eight motives for prayer, or expressions of prayer, using the English transliteration of the Greek word “parousia” (par-oo-SEE-uh), which denotes the arrival or presence of a king. Parousia stands for the following: Profession, Adoration, Reconciliation, Offering, Union, Silence, Intercession and Action.

Must we pattern our prayer exactly upon these expressions, in order of appearance? Not necessarily, but I find all of them, in order, appropriate. We know and declare who God is and who we are in relation to God. As beggars before Him, we express pre-emptive praise and gratitude. Mindful of all the barriers to communion, we ask God’s mercy to melt all hearts and join all hands, that together we may be one with God as a pleasing sacrifice.

The lack of words can make us uncomfortable. I know this from participating in meetings where people are encouraged to share “as the Spirit moves.” But I don’t like to rush what may be for most of us the only and most meaningful quiet time we get in a day. It clarifies and purifies our hearts and helps us realize what is our greatest treasure. When that treasure doesn’t align with God’s love, He receives us still, and in stillness loves us anyhow.

We ask for what we need, or want, and when we zoom out we admit our ignorance of what is best for us, or “how to pray as we ought” (Romans 8:26). To quote G.K. Chesterton, “if a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly.” Our departure from prayer ought to move us to do differently, the next right thing as God sees fit through our dim eyes. Trying times are for trying.

Torkington’s mnemonic inspire me to spell out the Latin word cras (“tomorrow”) with the Church’s comprehensive approach to Christ’s Eucharistic Body: we Celebrate Him, we Receive Him, we Adore Him, and we Share Him. Faithfulness to these practices disposes our hearts today to a tomorrow worth seeking, when we will eat and drink at table with Jesus in His Kingdom (Luke 22:30).