Places to pray
26/04/16 05:20
I am fortunate to work in a place that encourages prayer. It isn’t just that prayer is expected of pastor snd encouraged by the church. The place is well suited for praying. Just across the hallway from my office is the sanctuary of the church, a room that was carefully designed and built for community prayer. That space has been made holy by over a half century of weddings, baptisms, funerals, and regular worship services. When I sit in the pews thoughts come to mind of others who have come to that room at important moments of their lives, of promises that have been made in that place, and of those who have passed on. The light streaming through stained glass gives the room a special quality and the large free standing cross lends a distinct visual focus to the room.
What I know, however, is that prayer and drawing close to God is not limited or defined by space. There are places that are special to us. There are places of beauty where we have encountered God’’s ongoing creation. There are places that carry deep and powerful memories. But I don’t need a special place to pray.
Some of the most meaningful prayers have come to me in places that were designed for other purposes. I have prayed with people in hospital waiting rooms and at the bedside in a nursing home. I have prayed in the county jail and in the back seat of a patrol car. I have prayed standing in the front lawn of a home while officers conduct an investigation inside. I have prayed sitting alone on a hard wooden chair waiting for the conclusion of courtroom proceedings.
There are some who question the value of church buildings. If God is everywhere, they ask, why do we need a special building with all of its associated costs? They note, rightly, that one can pray while walking in the woods and while waking the creek on a fishing expedition. I hear those kinds of questions and observations less frequently than others because my position in relationship to the church is clear. But I know those thoughts are a part of our community and they are reported to me more often that I might have expected. My response usually is something like, “God not only speaks to individuals, but also to groups of people. A church is a place where you can belong to something bigger than yourself and connect with experience deeper than your own.” I have no illusion that my thoughts have much impact on those who do not find meaning in the structure of a church, but I hope that we can continue to keep the door open and the welcome mat out so that those who are not familiar with the ways of the church feel invited and welcomed to come and see what we do.
I have the feeling that many people, even those who are regular participants in the life of the church, don’t really know what I do with my time. There is much to my work that isn’t immediately obvious and often I am engaged in activities that are about the lives of others and the stories of what has happened are not mine to tell.
Some of my daily work, however, is just slogging through the mundane and everyday tasks. There are pieces of equipment like the sound system and adaptive listening devices and the church’s computer system that need maintenance and ongoing care and attention. I might spend an hour in front of a computer screen followed by another hour reading before the next person comes to the church in the morning. A small portion of my job is providing supervision and guidance to others who work at the church. I can be a counselor and consultant for their work and home lives at times, and an advocate for increased supports for them at another time. I participate in a lot of meetings, some directly involved in the operation of the institutional church; others expanding my education and work skills; still others seeking solutions to issues of our community. I visit people in hospitals and nursing homes and in their own homes. I move the furniture and set up rooms for use. I even employ somewhat limited janitorial skills to keep everything running smoothly. One thing is certain, my work is varied and different, with new challenges every day.
What I do hope can be known is that the work I do is worshipful work. It is infused with prayer and careful listening for God’s direction in my life. It is conducted with an understanding that the work I do cannot be done by myself.
My office has gorgeous windows that look out on the back yard of the church, with its crab apple trees and the wooded hillside beyond. We are on a hill so I can also look down on the urban core of our city. It seems as if my work is conducted at the place where open nature and the city meet. I often spend a few minutes just looking out the windows at the world. Occasionally an airplane will go past on its way to or from the air base or the regional airport reminding me that the world is much more vast and interconnected than can be seen from my windows.
I pray that my life and my ministry will not, however, be conducted from inside the building looking out. As wonderful as the windows are, the place of my work isn’t an office surrounded by books and staring into a computer screen. The place of my work is where the people of the church are and the windows invite me to go outside and experience the world.
Years ago, at the end of a 12-hour day in which I had invested a lot of time supporting a grieving family, a church member casually commented to me, “You must have had a fun day. I stopped by your office and noticed that you weren’t at work.” I responded that much of my work doesn’t take place in an office.
I hope that I take not only my body out of the office, but also the prayers of my people. It is the prayers that make all the difference in the world.
What I know, however, is that prayer and drawing close to God is not limited or defined by space. There are places that are special to us. There are places of beauty where we have encountered God’’s ongoing creation. There are places that carry deep and powerful memories. But I don’t need a special place to pray.
Some of the most meaningful prayers have come to me in places that were designed for other purposes. I have prayed with people in hospital waiting rooms and at the bedside in a nursing home. I have prayed in the county jail and in the back seat of a patrol car. I have prayed standing in the front lawn of a home while officers conduct an investigation inside. I have prayed sitting alone on a hard wooden chair waiting for the conclusion of courtroom proceedings.
There are some who question the value of church buildings. If God is everywhere, they ask, why do we need a special building with all of its associated costs? They note, rightly, that one can pray while walking in the woods and while waking the creek on a fishing expedition. I hear those kinds of questions and observations less frequently than others because my position in relationship to the church is clear. But I know those thoughts are a part of our community and they are reported to me more often that I might have expected. My response usually is something like, “God not only speaks to individuals, but also to groups of people. A church is a place where you can belong to something bigger than yourself and connect with experience deeper than your own.” I have no illusion that my thoughts have much impact on those who do not find meaning in the structure of a church, but I hope that we can continue to keep the door open and the welcome mat out so that those who are not familiar with the ways of the church feel invited and welcomed to come and see what we do.
I have the feeling that many people, even those who are regular participants in the life of the church, don’t really know what I do with my time. There is much to my work that isn’t immediately obvious and often I am engaged in activities that are about the lives of others and the stories of what has happened are not mine to tell.
Some of my daily work, however, is just slogging through the mundane and everyday tasks. There are pieces of equipment like the sound system and adaptive listening devices and the church’s computer system that need maintenance and ongoing care and attention. I might spend an hour in front of a computer screen followed by another hour reading before the next person comes to the church in the morning. A small portion of my job is providing supervision and guidance to others who work at the church. I can be a counselor and consultant for their work and home lives at times, and an advocate for increased supports for them at another time. I participate in a lot of meetings, some directly involved in the operation of the institutional church; others expanding my education and work skills; still others seeking solutions to issues of our community. I visit people in hospitals and nursing homes and in their own homes. I move the furniture and set up rooms for use. I even employ somewhat limited janitorial skills to keep everything running smoothly. One thing is certain, my work is varied and different, with new challenges every day.
What I do hope can be known is that the work I do is worshipful work. It is infused with prayer and careful listening for God’s direction in my life. It is conducted with an understanding that the work I do cannot be done by myself.
My office has gorgeous windows that look out on the back yard of the church, with its crab apple trees and the wooded hillside beyond. We are on a hill so I can also look down on the urban core of our city. It seems as if my work is conducted at the place where open nature and the city meet. I often spend a few minutes just looking out the windows at the world. Occasionally an airplane will go past on its way to or from the air base or the regional airport reminding me that the world is much more vast and interconnected than can be seen from my windows.
I pray that my life and my ministry will not, however, be conducted from inside the building looking out. As wonderful as the windows are, the place of my work isn’t an office surrounded by books and staring into a computer screen. The place of my work is where the people of the church are and the windows invite me to go outside and experience the world.
Years ago, at the end of a 12-hour day in which I had invested a lot of time supporting a grieving family, a church member casually commented to me, “You must have had a fun day. I stopped by your office and noticed that you weren’t at work.” I responded that much of my work doesn’t take place in an office.
I hope that I take not only my body out of the office, but also the prayers of my people. It is the prayers that make all the difference in the world.