Opus Dei

It is possible that you might be frightened by this word: meditation. It makes you think of books with old black covers, the sound of sighs and the irksome repetition of routine prayers. But that is not meditation. To meditate is to consider, to contemplate God as your Father, and yourself as his son in need of help. And then to give him thanks for all that he has given you and for all that he will give you. (Furrow, 661)

How I wish your bearing and conversation were such that, on seeing or hearing you, people would say: This man reads the life of Jesus Christ. (The Way, 2)

You seek the company of friends who, with their conversation and affection, with their friendship, make the exile of this world more bearable for you. There is nothing wrong with that, although friends sometimes let you down. But how is it you don't frequent daily with greater intensity the company, the conversation, of the great Friend, who never lets you down? (The Way, 88)

At times, someone has told me: ``Father, I feel tired and cold; when I pray or fulfill some other norm of piety, I seem to be acting out a farce.'' To that friend, and to you, if you are in the same boat, I answer: A farce? What an excellent thing, my child! Act out that farce! The Lord is your audience - the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The Blessed Trinity is contemplating us in those moments when we are ``acting out a farce''.

I have always understood Christian prayer as being a loving conversation with Jesus, which shouldn't be interrupted even in the moments when we are physically far from the Tabernacle, because our whole life is a serenade of human love for our God|... and we can love always. (The Forge, 435)

True prayer which absorbs the whole individual benefits not so much from the solitude of the desert as from interior recollection. (Furrow, 460)

You... proud? About what? (The Way, 600)

This is the only way to get to know Jesus: speak to him. You will always find in him a Father, a Friend, an Adviser, a Helper in all the noble deeds of your everyday life. And getting to know Him will give rise to Love. (Furrow, 662)

I see myself like a poor little bird, accustomed only to making short flights from tree to tree, or, at most, up to a third floor balcony. One day in its life it succeeded in reaching the roof of a modest building, that you could hardly call a skyscraper.

When I made you a present of that Life of Jesus, I wrote as an inscription. May you seek Christ: may you find Christ: may you love Christ. Three perfectly clear stages. Have you tried, at least, to live the first? (The Way, 382)