The Great Prayer of the Church
- Canons Regular of SJC
- 23 hours ago
- 8 min read
Updated: 22 minutes ago

The Divine Office, or Liturgy of the Hours, often seems to exist in a universe of its own. For many it evokes monastic life, or at least something outside of private prayer. Its roots in the earliest years of the Christian Church suggest that it was always meant to include the laity, yet there are reasons why it remains mysterious.
Traditionally, the prayers of the Office are said six times a day, with an additional hour at night. This structure, established by St. Benedict around 530 A.D., was simplified in the 16th Century, and again in the 20th Century under Pope Pius X and Pope Pius XII. After Vatican II, Pope Paul VI made yet another revision, with an eye towards greater accessibility and participation among lay Catholics.
Nevertheless, the length of the Divine Office can still vary, depending on where it’s said. And for newcomers hoping to learn more, there are several confusing variations on the breviary, although phone apps now make it easier to get started.

Why pray it, then, when we already have comprehensive devotions like the Rosary? Because the Divine Office isn’t actually a devotion but an essential part of the Catholic liturgy – what St. Benedict called the Opus Dei, the Work of God. Countless saints, including St. Thomas Aquinas, have considered the Divine Office the most important prayer in the Church. “The praise of God is more meritorious than the works of mercy,” Aquinas wrote, underscoring how such prayer helps sanctify and heal the entire world.
This is why priests aren’t required to say the Mass every day, but must recite the Divine Office (as do all religious). The Mass may be the heart of the Church’s liturgy, but the Divine Office is its lifeblood, flowing into and out from the Holy Sacrifice. Although offered for everyone, it has a way of nurturing the individual soul; in the words of St. Teresa of Avila, it “feeds the soul with the language of the Church.”
Sanctifying the Hours

The custom of reciting prayers, especially the Psalms, at specific hours of the day and night goes back to very ancient times. The Apostles prayed them at regular hours, and early Christians continued their practice, adding readings from the Gospels, Acts, and Epistles over the centuries.
St. Benedict’s intention in creating the Divine Office was to integrate his monks’ spiritual life into their work life. He organized it so that the entire Psalter would be recited weekly, and the Scriptures read in their entirety annually. In terms of time committed, this meant a near-constant cycle of prayer that was closely tied to the rhythms of the medieval agrarian world.
Lauds, the first “major” hour, came at sunrise, when the monks began their day. This was the hour of praise, reflecting joy and renewal. The monks went off to work until Terce, a mid-morning break, came around 9:00 AM; at noon they observed Sext, and None at 3:00 PM. These “minor” hours corresponded to key moments in Christ’s Passion: His sentencing, crucifixion, and death, and the prayers typically became more solemn as the day progressed.

The second major hour, Vespers, was said before the evening meal, and included prayers of thanksgiving for the day. (Members of the lay community often attended Vespers; the wealthier might follow along with small, decorated versions of breviaries, known as a Book of Hours.) At bedtime, the monks came together once more for Compline, a quiet and penitential minor hour. Then they slept for a while.
The seventh hour, Matins, stood slightly apart from the rest. In the period before modern lighting, when people typically went to bed soon after sunset, it wasn’t unusual to wake for a time in the middle of the night. This interval between the “first” and “second” sleeps had various, informal names – the quiet hour, the night watch. It was often used for prayer or reading, and sometimes even for light work.
For the monks, Matins occupied this time and was always the longest hour, usually beginning around 1:00 or 2:00 AM. In addition to the Psalms, the monks heard a variety of other sacred texts, especially the writings of the Church Fathers. Nighttime was considered a period where one could meditate on these things, without the usual distractions.
The hour’s other name, Vigils, suggests Christ’s lonely hours before His arrest, when He prayed alone to the Father, or the virgins watching in the darkness with their lamps. This idea of nocturnal communion is also rooted in early tradition, and was central to the practice of the desert fathers, whose example inspired St. Benedict. “When I sang the Psalms at night,” as one anonymous monk wrote, “I was no longer in the desert, but in Heaven.”

Time and Timelessness
At first glance, the Divine Office might seem repetitious, a series of rote prayers. Yet its narrative – built on Psalms, readings, sermons, and antiphons – actually changes hour by hour, day by day, week by week, depending on the liturgical season. One thing, however, remains constant: the presence of Christ, Whose story this is.
The prayers offer a profound meditation on His mystery, using words that encompass thousands of years of dialogue between God and the individual soul, between members of the Church, and between the Church and the world. One hears these voices, speaking of His birth, life, death, and Resurrection, in a continuous cycle that begins each year with Advent and ends with Christ the King. In this way, the Divine office reflects what the Church calls Kairos, the meeting between eternity and temporal time.
It has a tidal movement, like the sea. When dawn arrives, the Church sings Lauds. At Midday, the faithful pause again at least once for prayer, then continue until Vespers. Lauds and Vespers are sometimes referred to as the “hinge” hours, bringing in and seeing out the day, much like the morning and evening tide.
In the morning we hear the Laudate Psalms, which rejoice in God’s creation and herald the Resurrection. “Let the sea and all within it, thunder,” Psalm 97 says, “the world and all its peoples. Let rivers clap their hands, and the hills ring out their joy.” By evening, the prayers are quieter, following a trajectory of light to dark, life to death.

The Psalms and the accompanying readings can vary according to the calendar, but Lauds and Vespers always include two songs of praise: the Benedictus, or Canticle of Zecheriah, and the Magnificat of Mary. These were made part of the daily monastic prayer by St. Benedict, who considered them essential Gospel proclamations, even templates of Christian belief.
The Benedictus is a prophetic hymn, linking the coming of Christ to God’s covenant with Israel. “The dawn from on high will visit us,” Zecheriah says, “to shine on those who sit in darkness and death’s shadow.” The Magnificat picks up the theme again at Vespers: the ancient promises are fulfilled, and God has reentered human history to reverse worldly power and redeem mankind.
The Psalms, which make up the central prayers of the Office, also contain messianic themes, but here take on several added dimensions. As we pray them, we step into the very dialogue Christ had with the Father during His life on earth. The Psalms speak both of Christ, and in His voice, and continue as the voice of His Church.
It’s possible to experience an entire range of human emotions in a single day: joy, sorrow, fear, longing, delight, grief, hope, anger. Take time during the day to pray the Divine Office, and it’s striking how often the Psalms seem to speak to the current moment – if not for oneself directly, then for the world. More than any other prayer, they give the Divine Office its eternal, multifold quality; what St. Augustine called “One Christ, loving Himself.”
The Divine Office Today

For the Canons Regular of St. John Cantius, the Divine Office, together with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, forms the core of their communal life. They don’t consider the former a private prayer, but an essential part of their apostolate, one in which the faithful are actively invited to share. Each church staffed by the Canons posts the schedule for the hours in their bulletins and online.
If you’ve never experienced this liturgy before, it’s well worth just coming to listen. It takes an individual far outside himself, as it’s meant to. We pray the Divine Office – the Opus Dei – in communion, anticipating the Beatific Vision that comes at the end of time. Along with the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, the Office binds Heaven and earth, the living and the dead. This is why it’s best experienced in a sacred space, with the living voices chanting eternal words, one choir alternating with the other, in that same tidal rhythm.

Yet one can pray it alone, and almost anywhere, as long as it’s given proper attention. It’s also important to pray the hours at their appointed times, since they sanctify different parts of the day, and each has its own character.
You’ll also need to get hold of a breviary. There’s a learning curve involved in using one, especially with the four-volume Liturgy of the Hours, used by the Canons. The Divine Office isn’t laid out as a continuous text, but is more of an interwoven system that includes the Psalter, the Proper of Seasons, the Proper of Saints, Commons, and Ordinary. Praying any given hour involves constantly flipping back and forth through these sections.
Fortunately, one isn’t required to use the four-volume breviary (and investing in it right now isn’t recommended, due to changes and additions scheduled to take place by 2027). Instead, you can try the shorter Christian Prayer from Catholic Book Publishing, which contains the morning, evening, and night prayers, along with an abbreviated section for the Office of Readings and daytime prayers.
There are also several digital options for the Divine Office, which make it very easy to learn. These include free versions such as iBreviary, available through both a website and app, as well as Universalis, available for a small, one-time fee (note that the latter, while excellent, does not use the official ICEL translation of The Liturgy of the Hours). There are also a growing number of websites dedicated to helping people make the Divine Office a part of their lives.

The Voice of the Church
In the 12th Century, a Cistercian abbot named Guerric of Igny gave a sermon comparing the Divine Office to the life of a beehive. The monks, he said, were like humming bees working together, gathering nectar and transforming it into honey. The structured rhythm of psalmody and prayer rendered sweet praise to God, while nourishing the soul.
Few images better capture the personal and universal graces that flow from this liturgy. We wake in the morning and start our day: laboring, raising children, solving problems, preparing food. Life on earth is a continuum that constantly renews, but when we integrate prayer into this routine, everyday tasks take on a deeper significance.
On one level, the Divine Office compels us to pay closer attention to what we do. “We are the bees of the invisible,” the poet Rilke once wrote. “With total absorption, we gather the nectar of the visible into the great golden honeycomb of the invisible.” He could have been describing this particular quality of attention, which maintains a constant awareness of the divine. It shapes our moral consciousness, and makes us want to live according to God’s plan.

As the great prayer of the Church, the Divine Office is also something we offer for the sake of all creation. Our smallest efforts matter. That’s why the laity are encouraged to pray it – if not over the whole day (which can be difficult for many), then by entering in at any point. One can pray Lauds in the morning, and Vespers at night, or maybe take a break at Terce or None, or find some moment to do the Office of Readings. Compline is a beautiful prayer at bedtime. For those who are elderly or housebound, reading the entire Divine Office can fill inactive hours with tremendous purpose. For a busier person, like a student, it provides a moment to break away and spend a quiet moment with God.
There’s never been a better time to start. It can be deeply reassuring, in a world that often feels confusing or overwhelming, to remember Christ’s promise: “And behold, I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the age.” This reminder, perhaps more than anything else, is the great gift of the Divine Office.