Bible-ridden Guilt

and Freedom in the Rosary

If you have been reading my newsletter for a while now, you may have noticed a pattern: most of my posts start with me lying in bed. And while this may seem strange, the truth is that most of my contemplation, reading, and researching takes place with me sitting atop my duvet. This is likely due to the lack of a desk in my room, though I also find the quiet of morning and night tend to be where some of my deepest thoughts and revelations take place. This story is no different.

Roughly two weeks ago, late at night, I was laying in bed. For many years I’ve had a habit, at times an attempted habit, of reading my Bible before going to sleep. It’s been a beautiful practice but also at times a painful one. In the Protestant community, reading scripture is one of the highest forms of time with God.¹ It is a place where you seek revelation, knowledge, and God’s voice.

And so everytime I have ever missed reading my Bible, there has only been one response in my gut: guilt.

Unbending, unyeilding, guilt.

It didn’t matter if I had prayed for thirty minutes, worshipped all day long, or sat with God for an hour. If I missed reading my Bible in any way I felt self-conscious and selfish. “I mean surely, I could have made it happen if it was a priority!” I would think.

All the mental beating simply because I didn’t read the word, not that I hadn’t spent time with God.

This night, I hadn’t read my Bible and I was very tired. The eye drooping, half-thought that in a moment is forgotten, don’t want to brush your teeth level tired. But, I was so guilty I hadn’t read the Bible. In a half-hazard attempt to soothe this aching gap in my chest, I reached for my phone and clicked on the Hallow app. I had downloaded it a few days before with a quick glance and altogether forgotten it up until now.

The first thing that popped up was a recommendation to pray the rosary. At any other time, I likely would have stared at the recommendation for many minutes, humming and hawing about what to do. This long spent contemplation of weighing cost benefit analysis and theological thought would likely have made me exit out of the app, roll over, and fall asleep. But, this was not any other time. This was an exhausted Madison whose usual overthinking was greatly diminished by a strong desire to relax and go to sleep.

Without a second thought, I clicked on the rosary prayer. My eyes closed and I listened to the soft words of a women named “Abby” as she began to recite the rosary. After listening for only a few moments, I sat up in bed, grabbed my phone, and began to read along. There was no hesitation as I began to recite the Apostles Creed, Our Father prayer, multiple Hail Mary’s, and a Glory Be. When it arrived at the mysteries, I tried to envision them and reflect on them, though my mind was more focused on memorizing the lines of prayers I had never recited before.

However, 10 ish minutes into the prayer, when the words began to flow from my lips more naturally, and I only needed to glance occasionally to correct myself, I felt a deep relaxation pour over me. My mind went still and focused solely on Jesus, on all He endured and went through, and His mother’s perspective of it all. By the time I was finished, I was shocked to realize I had been praying for twenty minutes. My, had it gone by fast!

I turned over to go to sleep and a strange thing happened. I felt no guilt. Not an ounce. No guilt or hesitation in my recitation of a prayer I was told was “pagan” and “man made,” but more so, no guilt in the fact I hadn’t read my Bible.

For the first time, in a long time, I found myself at ease in the sole fact I had spent time with God. And that was enough.

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This was not a one time occurrence. In the past few weeks, I have incorporated the rosary and the liturgy of the hours into my morning and night time routine (at times even on the way to work) and an amazing absence of guilt and forceful need to perform for God in a certain way has followed.

I told a dear Catholic friend of mine (who has been one of the most encouraging, gentle, and mentoring voices on this journey of mine) that when I was getting ready for bed, a giddiness and excitement had begun to fill me. I was rushing to get ready, like a child headed to Disney world, all because I was excited to say my nightly prayers.

There is such a joy and solemnity in praying the rosary, as well as unexpected freedom. I find it comical that I have been taught my entire life that Catholics are caught up in “religion” (phrasing Protestants usually say in a negative light since they often believe any forms of liturgy or set practice in following God is legalistic and robs you of relationship with Him) and that it has been seen as binds and chains holding them down in their relationship with God. If anything, I have found the slow incorporation of Catholic practices in my life to be freeing.

I can only imagine how much more so that must be in the sacraments as a whole. A little off track, but there is this tendency in the Protestant community to constantly be questioning God’s will for ourselves. We get in habitual cycles of wondering if we are doing enough for God and I wouldn’t be surprised if many of the negative views of Catholics are simply a projection of this fact. When the whole world is open wide for interpretation, it weighs down on you. You always wonder if you are doing the right thing, believing the right thing, and teaching the right thing.

Liturgy is not a burden to carry or something forced on us. It’s a gift. Surely, God knew human words often fail us, why else would He offer the “Our Father” prayer?

I am grateful and beyond blessed for the time I get to spend with my Father, whatever means that is. What a peace to know that!

Photo by Shannon Douglas on Unsplash

1. I would attribute this to being due to the doctrine of Sola Scriptura