Praying
18/02/16 04:31
There are two things that I often say about prayer. The first is that prayer doesn’t require you to have the right words. It is, after all, a process of paying attention to the fact that God is always listening. From God’s point of view, there is no difference between praying and not praying. From ours, praying is reminding ourselves that God is listening. The second thing that I say is that when you don’t have words for your prayer, it really helps to know that you aren’t the only one who is praying.
I’ve been doing a lot of public praying lately.
To put that in context, a brief story from a long time ago. When I began to prepare for the ministry, back in the 1970’s, laity empowerment was a buzzword and a popular concept in the parts of the church that were familiar to me. Pastors were trying to encourage lay persons to assume responsibility for leadership in the church. As a result, there were frequent occasions when a pastor would be asked to say a prayer, for example before a meal, and the pastor would gently refuse, saying that others could lead prayer. That usually resulted in a whole room full of people awkwardly looking at their feet. In the interest of getting our food, I learned a few table graces and was quick to volunteer with a prayer. I also made a promise that I believe I have honored: I vowed that I would never refuse when asked to pray.
Saying prayers in public is a thing that I do. It is a part of my job. Public prayers range from simple table prayers to very carefully crafted pastoral prayers offered in formal worship services. I read prayers that have been written by others in the context of liturgy. I offer prayers at bedside in hospitals and care centers. I pray with people over the telephone and in my office.
My work, however, is varied. It is one of the things that I like about my job. The days are different from each other. There are days when most of what I do involves sitting in front of a computer preparing documents. We have a lot of reports that need to be produced. We produce a worship bulletin every week, and some weeks there are multiple bulletins. We produce a monthly newsletter. We update our web site regularly. I blog. There are all kinds of tasks that involve computers, which means that there are days when I am installing new software, updating network settings, and troubleshooting problems with the computers in the church. Then there are days that are intensely people focused. This week has been more of the latter. We are just a couple of weeks into a new lifestyle for a man who is wrestling with a serious addiction. There is no problem with his intentions or his resolve or his will, but keeping himself on track requires constant checking in. I speak with him nearly daily, usually over the phone. I was at the bedside of a patient who had just received from his doctor that the most important element in his recovery would need to be some serious lifestyle changes. I’ve been working with an emerging congregation that is tiny and cannot afford paid leadership as they struggle with what I think is their first funeral. At least they haven’t experienced another funeral in the years I’ve been working with them. February is the month when our newly-elected church Department and Board Members take office and begin serving. I’ve been trying to attend as many meetings as possible and frequently am asked to lead devotions or pray an invocation at meetings.
And I have my own prayer disciplines that need my attention: a personal prayer journal with a lot of entries for persons who have asked for prayers, clergy groups that meet to support and extend our ministries, personal and small group bible study, and preparations for the Lenten classes that I will be teaching.
Which brings me to the point with which I began this blog: God is always listening. God is always paying attention. All real living is praying. Then, on occasion, we pay attention to that fact and make ourselves aware that God is there. We call those moments prayer.
One of the people with whom I have been working said to me yesterday that he finds himself repeating prayers from his childhood over and over as he thinks about his situation and the problems he is facing. I pointed out to him that this seems to be a very good sign. When we pray the ancient prayers, whether they be historic prayers of the church, or prayers we memorized as children, we are making a connection with others. When we pray “the Lord’s Prayer, we are literally joined with others who are praying it at the same time, but we are also joined with generations of Christians who have prayed it in other times and who will pray it in the future. To pray a prayer using words that have come from somewhere else is to subtly remind ourselves that we are not alone. And prayer often comes precisely at those moments when we need to acknowledge that we can’t get through this life alone. We need others. We need to belong. We are part of a community. And God delights in healthy relationships. What better way to pray than to share the words of others?
When I am alone, my prayers often have no need of words. I had to learn to be content with silence. I had to practice focusing my attention. It is a skill that I continue to refine after decades of conscious effort. God, I have found, is very comfortable with silence and has patience to wait a lifetime while I learn the art of silence. Too much silence, however, can make people uncomfortable in some settings. It may just be a need for more practice, it may be that they need a more tangible sign that I am with them in that moment.
So I have to pray even more, asking that I might find the right words to say that will help the people I serve to find God’s presence in their lives.
I’ve been doing a lot of public praying lately.
To put that in context, a brief story from a long time ago. When I began to prepare for the ministry, back in the 1970’s, laity empowerment was a buzzword and a popular concept in the parts of the church that were familiar to me. Pastors were trying to encourage lay persons to assume responsibility for leadership in the church. As a result, there were frequent occasions when a pastor would be asked to say a prayer, for example before a meal, and the pastor would gently refuse, saying that others could lead prayer. That usually resulted in a whole room full of people awkwardly looking at their feet. In the interest of getting our food, I learned a few table graces and was quick to volunteer with a prayer. I also made a promise that I believe I have honored: I vowed that I would never refuse when asked to pray.
Saying prayers in public is a thing that I do. It is a part of my job. Public prayers range from simple table prayers to very carefully crafted pastoral prayers offered in formal worship services. I read prayers that have been written by others in the context of liturgy. I offer prayers at bedside in hospitals and care centers. I pray with people over the telephone and in my office.
My work, however, is varied. It is one of the things that I like about my job. The days are different from each other. There are days when most of what I do involves sitting in front of a computer preparing documents. We have a lot of reports that need to be produced. We produce a worship bulletin every week, and some weeks there are multiple bulletins. We produce a monthly newsletter. We update our web site regularly. I blog. There are all kinds of tasks that involve computers, which means that there are days when I am installing new software, updating network settings, and troubleshooting problems with the computers in the church. Then there are days that are intensely people focused. This week has been more of the latter. We are just a couple of weeks into a new lifestyle for a man who is wrestling with a serious addiction. There is no problem with his intentions or his resolve or his will, but keeping himself on track requires constant checking in. I speak with him nearly daily, usually over the phone. I was at the bedside of a patient who had just received from his doctor that the most important element in his recovery would need to be some serious lifestyle changes. I’ve been working with an emerging congregation that is tiny and cannot afford paid leadership as they struggle with what I think is their first funeral. At least they haven’t experienced another funeral in the years I’ve been working with them. February is the month when our newly-elected church Department and Board Members take office and begin serving. I’ve been trying to attend as many meetings as possible and frequently am asked to lead devotions or pray an invocation at meetings.
And I have my own prayer disciplines that need my attention: a personal prayer journal with a lot of entries for persons who have asked for prayers, clergy groups that meet to support and extend our ministries, personal and small group bible study, and preparations for the Lenten classes that I will be teaching.
Which brings me to the point with which I began this blog: God is always listening. God is always paying attention. All real living is praying. Then, on occasion, we pay attention to that fact and make ourselves aware that God is there. We call those moments prayer.
One of the people with whom I have been working said to me yesterday that he finds himself repeating prayers from his childhood over and over as he thinks about his situation and the problems he is facing. I pointed out to him that this seems to be a very good sign. When we pray the ancient prayers, whether they be historic prayers of the church, or prayers we memorized as children, we are making a connection with others. When we pray “the Lord’s Prayer, we are literally joined with others who are praying it at the same time, but we are also joined with generations of Christians who have prayed it in other times and who will pray it in the future. To pray a prayer using words that have come from somewhere else is to subtly remind ourselves that we are not alone. And prayer often comes precisely at those moments when we need to acknowledge that we can’t get through this life alone. We need others. We need to belong. We are part of a community. And God delights in healthy relationships. What better way to pray than to share the words of others?
When I am alone, my prayers often have no need of words. I had to learn to be content with silence. I had to practice focusing my attention. It is a skill that I continue to refine after decades of conscious effort. God, I have found, is very comfortable with silence and has patience to wait a lifetime while I learn the art of silence. Too much silence, however, can make people uncomfortable in some settings. It may just be a need for more practice, it may be that they need a more tangible sign that I am with them in that moment.
So I have to pray even more, asking that I might find the right words to say that will help the people I serve to find God’s presence in their lives.