I am reading a book which a friend gave me for Christmas.  It is called The President, the Pope, and the Prime Minister: Three Who Changed the World.  The book is about Ronald Reagan, Pope John Paul II, and Margaret Thatcher and how the work of these three who rose to prominence on the world stage at roughly the same time ultimately led to the end of the Cold War and the collapse of the Soviet Union.

 Younger folks today don’t know what that world was like: a world in which, for decades, the United States and the Soviet Union had thousands upon thousands of nuclear missiles aimed at each other.  The only thing that kept the peace was what was called MAD – Mutually Assured Destruction – the knowledge on both sides of the conflict that if anything were started, everybody would end up dead.  There seemed to be no way out of it.

 Then, all of a sudden, it was over.  In September 1989, Poland held elections in which the people voted the communists out of office.  A few days later, Hungary started allowing East Germans to pass through on their way to West Germany.  Within weeks, the Berlin Wall fell.  By the end of 1989, every communist government in Eastern Europe had collapsed.  By the end of 1991, the Soviet Union itself no longer existed.

 An enemy that for decades had appeared undefeatable just collapsed, without a shot being fired.

 Brothers and sisters, that is a reminder to us that the world is a transitory place.  Things seemingly so permanent and insurmountable to us just simply vanish in a puff of smoke.

 Everything in the world passes away.  St. Paul reminds us of that in our second reading today: “If there are prophecies they will be brought to nothing; if tongues, they will cease; if knowledge, it will be brought to nothing.  For we know partially and we prophesy partially, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away.”

 That transitory nature of the world, that constant change in our lives, is a great challenge to us.  It frightens us, because we crave security and permanence.  We long to feel safe, cared for, and protected.  We pursue all sorts of things – money, power, influence, unhealthy relationships, sex, drugs, alcohol, and the list goes on – in an effort to gain that feeling of security.  Very often, we pursue everything, except the one thing that will meet that need: love, specifically the love of God, which is a person: Jesus Christ.

 Only Jesus can fill that deepest need within us.  Only God can be that rock of refuge, that stronghold, that fortress which keeps us safe and secure, as the Psalmist declares.  Only His love gives meaning and purpose to our lives.

 But how do we make the changes in our lives that will enable us to experience the security of God?  How do we de-program ourselves from believing what the culture around us tells us we should pursue?  How do we get in touch with and experience this love that God offers?

 Well, how do we experience love with our friends, our families, our spouses?  We spend time with the other person, and we communicate.  It works the same way with God.  When we spend time with God and communicate with Him, we call that prayer.

 “Yes, yes.  I’ve tried that.  It doesn’t really seem to work,” one might say.  Perhaps that’s true.  Sometimes, like anything else, we have to learn how to do it.

 Lent is coming upon us quickly.  On some of the Friday evenings in Lent, I’m going to offer a crash-course on prayer: what it is and what it is not, how to approach it, and how to dispose oneself to hear God speaking.

 Because God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit really are ready and willing to share the trust, the confidence, the security, and the love that they have in and for one another with each and every one of us.