After Mass one Sunday afternoon, my two-year-old was running around the living room saying, “Stantial with the Father! God from God; light from light!” She was very emphatic about it, albeit clueless to the meaning of the words. For something that she only hears briefly once a week, I was impressed she remembered those phrases and could somewhat say them. Her stumbling over the phrase reminded me of when the revised translation began to be used at Mass in 2011. At the time, consubstantial with the Father did not roll off the tongue and it was difficult to get used to. Now, I have a hard time remembering what the phrase used to be.
Learning a language is a process of connecting our inner selves to the world and people around us; it requires patience, practice, and understanding. Over time, words that were foreign and incomprehensible slowly become the path to community, connection, and meaning. Living our Catholic faith is no different; the practice of the faith is a constant dialogue we are learning to have with God. In a 2012 address, Pope Benedict XVI says: “We can speak to God because God has spoken to us—because he has come to us as a Word and because in his inmost life in the Trinity he is a relationship. The prayer of Jesus reveals that the heart of the Trinity is a familial, filial relationship of love. God in his inner essence is a dialogue of love, and our prayer, both corporately in the liturgy and privately, is a participation in this filial and familial dialogue.”
If this dialogue of love is filial and familial, then what better place to learn the phrases and practice our pronunciation of God’s language, so to speak, than in our own families? Each domestic church, with all the uniqueness and character of family life, provides a true immersion experience into this dialogue of love. When two people marry, they bring with them a certain spiritual dialect—how they have learned to hear and speak with God. As with all things in marriage, it takes time for the couple to merge these experiences and produce something uniquely their own.
It was not long into our newlywed life that we were thinking about which traditions and habits of prayer we would most like to pass on.
My husband and I married three years ago and we certainly experienced—and are still experiencing—that learning curve. The impetus for most of our conversations and decisions about our prayer life at home was our children. We were blessed very quickly with children, so it was not long into our newlywed life that we were thinking about which traditions and habits of prayer we would most like to pass on. While we continue to grow and learn, there are three aspects in our journey together that have helped us build our domestic church.
The first, and perhaps the simplest, is intentionality with our time and space. My husband, Alec, and I discussed what we wanted our prayer life to look like as a couple and individually—daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly. We tried to be as specific as possible. For example, we decided to pray together as a family every evening by sharing our prayer intentions and praying the rosary, and by going to confession once a month. Alec and I also found it helpful to take a year and observe the practices and traditions we held growing up and then decide which ones we would like to continue or add for our new family. A small tradition we have added is celebrating our children’s baptismal anniversaries with their godparents.
Making time for prayer as a couple and a family is imperative, and it can be aided by special places or reminders in the home for prayer. Religious artwork and prayer corners help cue the mind and body that it is time for prayer. In our home, we have a special prayer nook, complete with children’s picture bibles, rosaries, and icons. These small reminders help us to make time individually and as a family to pray. Seasonal decorations and changes in prayer habits that reflect the Church calendar also help establish a meaningful rhythm. For example, in our neighborhood, most homes put up their Christmas decorations after Thanksgiving. We keep the lights and tree down for as long as possible before Christmas, helping us to more fully enter the season of Advent.
The second aspect in our journey was learning how to pray through acts of service. The Mass is a sacrifice, and we are called to bring our own spiritual offerings to each Mass. The sacrifices of our vocations and daily living are part of these offerings. When I was a child, the phrase I heard most often to quell any sort of complaint on my part was “Offer it up.” I misunderstood this to mean “Don’t complain,” and I see now how wrong this was. To offer something up means saying, “Thank you, Lord, for this opportunity to love you in this way.” Whatever we offer to God has first been offered by him to us. While we certainly have preferences for what we would like to offer God, we cannot let these preferences blind us to a full and abundant offering.
For me, transitioning from a single woman to a wife and mother radically changed my prayer life. In this current season of life, the duties of my vocation do not currently afford me a lot of time for solitude and silence, two things I greatly enjoyed about my prayer life as a single person. However, I find solace in offering God acts of service—caring for children, folding laundry, cooking a meal—knowing even these moments can glorify him.
Making time for prayer as a couple and a family is imperative, and it can be aided by special places or reminders in the home for prayer.
The third aspect was recognizing how important it was for us to have mentors in the faith. We are blessed to know couples who are transitioning out of their child-rearing years who have wisdom to share with those just starting out. Talking with them, receiving their encouragement and support, and simply observing how they parent has been an immense blessing. Parish life has naturally brought these friendships forward for us and is a great place to start when looking to build those relationships. Introducing yourself to the people you regularly sit next to at Mass, inviting them to coffee, volunteering on a parish committee, or attending a parish event are all great ways to start growing your faith community.
In the end, building a domestic church is not about achieving perfection in prayer or flawlessly living out the liturgical seasons; rather, it’s about committing, day by day, to love God and each other more fully through intentional rhythms, sacrificial service, and faithful community. Just as a child slowly learns to speak by listening and repeating, our families learn to speak the language of faith through practice, patience, and grace. In this sacred, everyday work, we are drawn deeper into the familial dialogue of love at the heart of the Trinity—a conversation that begins in our homes and echoes into eternity.
