What does it mean to pray when we are battered by life? Or when death steps in? When words fail us? “Praying means talking to a friend.” This simple statement recurs frequently in the testimonies of Marie and Gabriel. Both tell of a very real experience of prayer, rooted in daily life, work, fatigue and sometimes anger. In this interview conducted at the Montligeon Shrine, they share how prayer has become their concrete support, both for them as individuals and in their community. They do not explain prayer in theoretical terms. Little by little, prayer emerges as a place for listening, trust and hope, particularly in praying for the dead, which is at the heart of Montligeon’s mission.
Praying to hold on, as in Gethsemane
“I discovered prayer through anger. According to Gabriel, prayer doesn’t begin in calm, but in tension, eg. the trials, the incomprehension, the sense of injustice in this world. He works on an emergency call management platform and he knows that every day can bring us face to face with human distress, sometimes death. “You get up in the morning and you know it’s going to be tough. In this context, prayer becomes vital. Before work, after work, on days off. Sometimes in silence, when the situation becomes too heavy.” Gabriel recalls these striking calls, in particular suicides experienced live. “When you’re a Christian, you feel sorry for a soul,” he says. He makes a connection with the Garden of Gethsemane, with no further details, as a way of expressing the severity experienced. Prayer doesn’t provide immediate answers. However, it does allow us to entrust the overflow. “Only God knows,” he says simply.
However fragile, this trust is a support.
Praying with this friend, Christ
Marie had a different entry into prayer, with her childhood playing its part. “My parents introduced me to prayer as a conversation with a friend”, she says. She refers to a spontaneous, everyday conversation, with no forbidden subjects. This friend is first and foremost Christ. “You can confide anything to him”, she declares.The fact that he became man makes the relationship more concrete, more accessible. Marie insists: praying is not about speaking well, but daring to speak. In this way, prayer becomes a place of truth, where both joy and weariness find their place.
Gabriel confirms Marie’s experience in his own terms. Baptized as an adult, he recalls a decisive moment at the abbey church in Issoire, Central France. Enter, sit down, speak.
“That day, I put my ‘backpack’ down.” The image is powerful. Too many burdens, too many questions, then this inner movement, let God carry it. “He says to you, ‘I’m here. In that case, praying doesn’t solve everything. Yet it opens up a space where we can ask, hope, and believe that God sees wider than our own plans.
Praying in community and in communion
Prayer is not just a solitary activity. Marie stresses the importance of community. “Feeling that we’re not alone in our faith is key.” At Montligeon, this aspect is tangible. It reflects the communion of saints, lived out in concrete terms: prayer on earth, united with that of the Church in Heaven. The obituary registers are a particular reminder of this. “All those names for whom we pray every day, I think it’s wonderful. Mass, especially on Sundays, brings together this visible and invisible communion. Major feasts such as All Saints’ Day reinforce this sense of togetherness.”
Gabriel, for his part, reminds us that there are no magic formulas. “Talk to the Lord as you would your best friend. Where you are, as you are. Prayer then becomes a net.” This comparison is also in Marie’s language: “It’s like the safety net under the trapeze artists, a discreet but real support. This network of prayer carries us, reassures us, and opens us up to hope.”
“Prayer is like a safety net under trapeze artists: you can move forward, even on the tightrope.”
Mary concludes by reflecting on those “who have gone before us”. “We have this certainty which fuels our momentum: one day, we too will be on our way to that same communion. In this way, prayer does not close in on the past. It opens onto life – shared, entrusted and hoped for: eternal life.”
