Something rather extraordinary has been happening around the world during these first days of October. On October 1, about 700 children gathered around Pope Leo XIV at the Lourdes Grotto in the Vatican Gardens and prayed the Rosary for peace. Five decades were prayed in five languages. The Pope asked them to imagine fifty million Hail Marys rising from children around the world asking God for peace.
Then last Saturday, October 3, I had the privilege of being at the University of Portland Oregon, where students, families, faculty and friends gathered with Holy Cross Family Ministries for another Rosary Rally for Peace. The theme was Christ's words: “My peace I give you.” Then here, that same evening at the Father Peyton Center in Massachusetts, families gathered with candles and rosaries, and Arthur Boyle gave his testimony on “The Healing Power of the Rosary.” And on October 22, Holy Cross Family Ministries will bring people together across the world for the Global Rosary Rally for Peace, as of now well over 200 thousand people have signed up for it. And in fact Pope Leo has acknowledged this effort of Holy Cross Family Ministries and has given his apostolic blessings for its success.
That is a lot of rosaries in one month. October is apparently the month when Catholics decide that if fifty-three Hail Marys are good, several million might be even better.
And all of this makes today's Gospel surprisingly timely. The disciples come to Jesus and say, “Lord, teach us to pray.” What is interesting is that they already knew prayers. They were Jewish men formed in a rich tradition of prayer. They knew the Psalms. They knew the blessings. They knew the Temple. But they had watched Jesus pray and realized that knowing prayers and knowing how to pray are not quite the same thing.
We know that difference too. Most Catholics know how to say the Rosary. Some of us can pray it with extraordinary efficiency. Under the right circumstances, especially when dinner is waiting, the Joyful Mysteries can move at a speed that would put racing cars to shame. We begin with Gabriel visiting Mary and, before Mary has had time to recover from the Annunciation, Jesus is already twelve years old and is at the Temple.
But the Rosary was never meant to be a spiritual race. Arthur Boyle's inspiring testimony at the Father Peyton Center last Saturday makes that very clear. His story is not really about finishing rosaries. It is about what happens when prayer begins to enter the wounded places of a person's life. Faced with serious illness and profound fear, prayer gradually became not simply something he did, but somewhere he stood. He speaks about healing not only physically, but also inwardly, through forgiveness, reconciliation, trust and a rediscovery of God.
That is much closer to what the disciples are asking Jesus for. They are not asking, “Lord, give us the correct formula or correct words.” They are asking, “Teach us to live from the place You live from.”
And perhaps that is why Jesus gives them such simple words: Father. Kingdom. Bread. Forgiveness. Protection. Nothing complicated. No impressive vocabulary. The Rosary works in much the same way. We repeat simple words while contemplating the great mysteries of Christ. And yes, our minds wander. Mine can begin at Bethlehem, travel through tomorrow's appointments, revisit conversations form the past, remember that I forgot to answer someone, wonder what is for lunch, and somehow return just in time for the Crucifixion. Yet the next bead is still there.
The Rosary is a prayer of returning. We wander; it brings us back. We become anxious; it brings us peace. We become angry; it brings us calmness. We become convinced that the future depends entirely upon us; then Mary puts another mystery before us and says, “Look at Him again.”
So when children pray with Pope Leo, when families gather at the Father Peyton Center, when people come together at the University of Portland, and when thousands join the Global Rosary Rally on October 22, perhaps something deeper is happening than simply many people saying the same prayers.
We are allowing God to rearrange us. Father Peyton loved to say, “A world at prayer is a world at peace.” That does not mean the Rosary is magic. Fifty beads do not automatically solve fifty problems. But prayer changes the people who must face those problems.
And today the disciples give us perhaps the best prayer of all: “Lord, teach us to pray.” On this Memorial of Our Lady of the Rosary, Mary seems to answer by placing something very ordinary into our hands, beads, a crucifix, familiar words, and inviting us to begin. Not perfectly. Not impressively. Not even without distraction. Just begin. And when the mind wanders, when life hurts, when fear takes over, when the world becomes too complicated, take the next bead and return to Him.
Our Lady of the Rosary, Pray for us.