Whenever my work schedule allows, I make my way over to St. Thomas the Apostle Church in Delmar on Friday afternoon for a much-needed dose of peace in the form of Adoration. I’ve come to love it so much that I write it on my calendar, a reality that is a blessed surprise and grace.
Adoration itself is not something new to me. I was raised in a family where it was a mainstay for my mother, grandfather and godmother, and even as a teen I often signed up to sit vigil when we had 24-hour Adoration each month. But for most of my adult life, work and daily responsibilities prevented me from participating, along with perhaps a sliver of indifference toward a practice that had become so removed from my spirituality.
Now as I settle into my pew after Mass while volunteers set up candles and hand out worship aids, I feel myself ease into the sense of peace that permeates the church for the hour of silent prayer. As we sing “Tantum Ergo” and kneel before the monstrance, incense rising to heaven, I bask in the “bells and smells” that make this prayer practice so “embodied,” that is, with all senses heightened by the sights and sounds and smells of what is happening before and around us.
I marvel at the way that this beautiful practice meets people where they are. From the start, you can hear the subtle click of Rosary beads moving through fingers and tapping against pews. Or you might see someone with a Bible open on her lap, moving a finger along a passage as she meditates on the Word. Sometimes someone pulls out a journal and writes quietly under the watchful eyes of stained-glass saints. And others simply sit with eyes closed, completely enwrapped in the silent embrace of contemplative prayer.
It’s so rare that any of us take time in total and true silence, especially in community, which makes this time even more potent and powerful. There before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, unspoken prayers are lifted up, all of our spiritual energy focused on placing ourselves before our God in complete surrender. And while all of this goes on, there is typically a long line for confession, with people filing in to receive the sacrament one after another for the full hour. It is heartening and humbling to witness.
As we move toward the season of Advent and the challenge to slow down amid the frenzy of the secular world, Adoration might be the perfect prayer practice to add to your repertoire. (You can find a list of Adoration times and locations in the Diocese listed in The Evangelist regularly.) If you’ve never participated in Adoration, maybe give yourself this gift in the weeks ahead. Bring your Rosary beads or prayer book, and approach the practice with patience as you sink into silence, if your parish offers a completely silent Adoration, which is a wonderful thing. And, if you’re a regular at Adoration, maybe invite someone new to join you and experience the wonder and awe of a silent space so sacred you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by grace and gratitude.
St. Mother Teresa of Kolkata said, “A Holy Hour of Eucharistic Adoration helps to bring everlasting peace to earth.” That might seem like a tall order, but the truth is that Adoration does bring peace to our hearts, bit by bit, moment by moment, and that in turns helps sow seeds of peace on earth, which is something Venerable Dorothy Day also understood all too well: “People say, ‘What is the sense of our small effort?’ They cannot see that we must lay one brick at a time, take one step at a time.”
Adoration is where we make a “small effort” and begin to lay down the bricks that will build a foundation of peace, for ourselves and for our world.
This column originally appeared in the Nov. 19, 2025, issue of The Evangelist.
