Now there’s a weird coincidence. I was reading about Chandler this morning, out of the blue, and didn’t realize it’s his birthday.

One of the great problems also is patience. It’s the Psalmist’s cry: “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” I have been going through a sort of combined depression and desolation for around three years now. Patience in that situation is goddam difficult. But necessary.

I wouldn’t go Presbyterian, but sometimes I wonder if the solution to all my denominational fretting is really as simple as my cousin thought.

The solution seemed so simple and obvious to her that she didn’t understand why I hadn’t considered it. At the time I gave a needlessly long answer about its not being that simple.

Now, the only Christian denominations she knew were Catholicism (her dad’s, my uncle’s, side) and Presbyterianism (her mom’s side). So she said, “OK, then why don’t you just become a Presbyterian priest?” (Yes, yes, “[sic]” in case any Presbyterians are reading!)

As Mark knows, my great difficulty is assurance—knowing, deeply, that God loves me and isn’t going to abandon me because of my sin. It’s having faith even on that long Holy Saturday.

Now I want to write a theology-tinged hardboiled detective story called *The Long Holy Saturday*.

Seriously, yes, you’ve got it. One of the difficulties of the Christian life is living in that travail, in that period where it seems like death has won.

Of course, the child in that joke is more right than she knows.)

It struck me the other day, when trying this, that the Lord’s Prayer pretty much summarizes… well, everything.

Your habit is what I’ve been trying and failing to do more. I learned these prayers in childhood and often just rush through them without thinking about what I’m saying. (I’m reminded of the joke about the child who says God’s a painter, because of “Our Father who does art in heaven.”

The letter killeth, after all!

Yes, something is unsatisfying even about “groans,” because the feeling is, as you say, “so guttural that no sound can come out.” Too guttural for the audibly guttural, in fact. But it comes closer to the feeling than the better-sounding “sighs,” as lovely as that sounds.

Well… that’s what I meant to say. 😁 Seriously, thanks to you too for pointing out the eschatological significance! I agree that “sighs” is far too much a softening.

And when we’re reaching out to the Holy Spirit in this way, we’re more hurt, and expressing a feeling deeper, than if we were sighing.

The NRSV’s “sighs too deep for words” sounds the most euphonious in English, but “groans” or (the KJV’s) “groanings” is the better word. It’s got some of the harshness, with the hard “g” sound, inherent in the concept it’s describing. To groan is deeper and more hurt than to sigh.

When you posted this, incidentally (apologies if I’m going off-topic, @bolshevikbear.bsky.social), I looked at BibleHub’s list of the translations of Romans 8:26 and found the (small) differences intriguing.

Embarrassed to say I still haven’t read Merton! Thanks.

“The Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.”

Yep.

Seconding this. Isn’t there some great Luther quote about praying only what you can, and if you can’t, remember that the Holy Ghost already knows every prayer of our hearts (a remembering that is in itself a sort of prayer)?