The Prayer of St. Michael was in the news last week. Deacon Greg Kandra’s been covering it.
And let’s first off, put this particular prayer, and the recitation of it after Mass as one more item on the list called: If you’d told me in 1985 that…..
Well, I wouldn’t have believed you. Nor would any other Catholic in the United States of America – believed you that one day, reciting this prayer after Mass would be done again, at all.
To the grief of some, to the relief of others.
I imagine it’s one of those phenomena that pastoral ministers (Note to self…resist temptation to put “pastoral” in scare quotes.) trained in those crucial two decades consider in astonishment, thinking, Didn’t we…I thought we….how did this happen?
Ah well.
The ins and outs of this particular situation in the Archdiocese of Chicago, if nothing else, offer yet one more opportunity to do some turning of tables. And that’s always invigorating.
First of all, remember the emergence of the laity? Remember how we’re all about claiming this lay moment and the from the bottom up nature of the Church’s life and practice? That bottom-up is good and top-down is bad?
Well, I’m sure there have been some priests who have introduced it into their parishes and even given the sense that it’s an obligatory aspect of the Mass – perhaps that is precisely the issue in this situation – but for the most part, I think it’s been an organic re-emergence over the past two decades.
And wouldn’t it be interesting and useful and even, yes, pastoral, if those in authority who are uncomfortable with this practice for whatever reason stop and ask a person or two why this has happened? Why it’s meaningful to them?
Isn’t that just…interesting?

And no, saying, Regressive Trads on the move again bringing back pre-Vatican II garbage – need to nip it – nip it in the bud – isn’t an answer. Well, it is an “answer” – and the fallback for many, but it’s not a good or – let me say it again – interesting one.
Might it be that the Prayer of St. Michael expresses a need, a yearning, the reality of a situation? Might it be that those who are moved to stay after Mass to recite this prayer together feel as if they are, indeed, engaged in battles of one sort or another, besieged and under attack? And that reciting it – aloud, with others who have been strengthened by the grace of the Eucharist – gives a sense that no, we’re not in these battles alone, either in heaven or on earth?
And I’m not talking culture wars battles, here. I’m talking about the battles every human being faces, those battles of every day life, small and great: battles to resist temptation, to overcome addictions, to remain faithful, to find a way to love those who have become unlovable, to be kind amid hostility, to do one’s duty when it is hard and stultifying. Battles against sickness, against loneliness, battles to maintain hope in the face of death, battles to see light in the wake of great loss, battles to just get through the day?
Some years back, I read a blog post from someone I know a bit. Exploring the possibility of revisiting the Catholic faith of her childhood, she had gone to Mass. But she had left with her needs not met, she felt, because the priest’s homily had utilized battle themes. This disappointed her.
What struck me though, was that in reading this person’s writing for a few years, it was clear she had been fighting deep, painful battles, mostly related to her children. She was not fighting against them as much as fighting for them in their struggles with addiction and self-worth and calling. Yes, she had been fighting and she was exhausted by it, but she would not give up on her children.
It was too bad that she couldn’t see the connection. It was too bad that a combination of perhaps the priest’s failure to connect the battle imagery with personal battles or the walls she had put up to understanding had worked so that she could not see that yes, she and her children were fighting battles and that here in that place, God’s strength was available to her, light ready to be taken up against the darkness.
So why is it? Why is that this devotion has found a resurgence?
I think it’s a fascinating question.
The Prayer to St. Michael was obviously not a part of my post-Vatican II formation, and I still don’t know it past the first couple of lines – even though my two youngest do, having recited it in Catholic schools. (That didn’t stop me from writing about it, of course, in The Words We Pray)My primary, pre-2010 memory of this prayer concerns an ancient history teacher at one of the high schools at which I taught. I mean – not that he taught ancient history (although I guess he did), but that he was ancient. To me, at least, but who knows – he probably wasn’t.
Anyway, this fellow was a scary old dude. He taught across the hall from me, and I’m sure what he did was to cultivate a purposefully mysterious, intimidating image – Mr. Smith, wizened and unsmiling, giving impossible tests, always talking about Rasputin.
(Which he did)
But the other thing he did was to teach his students the Prayer of St. Michael. While we religion teachers were having the kids write their own prayers and share what they meant to them, he was barking at them to have this prayer memorized by the end of next week, and then, every day, five times a day, I would hear them across the hall, dutifully reciting it.
I probably don’t need to tell you that it all worked: the persona, Rasputin, the difficult work and yes, the Prayer of St. Michael.
They loved the curmudgeon and probably remember far more of what he taught them than what I was attempting, I’ll admit.
Anyway, that’s my Prayer of St. Michael history, which is far less important than the point I raised earlier, and the whole reason I sat down to write this post.
Instead of running scared at the Super Scary Pre-Vatican II Words, why not ponder…why?
Sure, I don’t doubt that the whole scene can get a little confusing and probably not quite liturgically correct if there’s a seamless flow between Thanks be to God and Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle…especially if the priest starts it off and folks feel pressured to stay and pray it. And that’s a discussion important to have, for, as we’ve talked about endlessly, the Catholic Way is a dynamic one between what bubbles up from below and sifting from above.
But again…why?
Let’s talk about that.
Why are people calling on St. Michael? What are they asking from him, and why?
Oh, and I can’t help it. Well, I probably can, but I won’t even try. In the pastor’s statement, he said, Nor can it ever become an imposition on the rest of the faithful in the Church who have a right to remain at the end of Mass to pray privately as they wish.
Oh. So…it’s now a good thing to have quiet in the worship space after Mass, so the faithful can…pray privately as they wish?
Noted.
In the Diocese of Fort Wayne-South Bend it’s required by Bishop Rhoades, so everybody says it, including the priest. Those of us who struggle with the demonic on a daily basis are extremely grateful, not that we wouldn’t pray it by ourselves, but it’s got a lot more power when everybody’s saying it. And strengthening even one member of the congregation strengthens the entire congregation.
The chapel where I sometimes attend Mass had this phenomenon: When Pope Francis asked for the St. Michael Prayer for one month after Mass, the lay people kept doing it once the month was over. They’re still doing it. The priests don’t stop them and the only way they encourage the lay faithful to pray the prayer is by not stopping them.