Teach Us to Pray
Luke 11:1-13
I’m guessing that most of us would say that “prayer” is at the very heart of Christianity. But – [at the same time] – many of us would also have to admit that we have a great deal of difficulty with the whole idea of prayer. And I include myself in that “many of us”.
It was Buddha who said, “The gatekeeper to enlightenment is confusion and doubt”. Well I, for one, am deeply indebted to Buddha, because I’m confused and doubtful an awful lot of the time, about an awful lot of things, including prayer!
This sermon on the topic of “prayer” is the third and final in a 3-part series on “reclaiming Christian language”, in which I’ve attempted to “take back” some Christian language, some Christian words, that I feel have been high-jacked and corrupted by the so-called “Christian Right” – with the result being that many of us in the mainline, liberal Church no longer feel comfortable using much of this traditional religious language. So 2 weeks ago, we looked at the idea of “salvation” through this lens, last week the notion of “evangelism”, and today “prayer”.
There is a part of me that has to acknowledge that prayer is really a “mystery” to me. On the one hand, I feel moved to pray...but on the other hand, I don’t really know why. I do pray...but I often don’t know how.
Some people – [who seem to be really sure about these things] – have told me that there is nothing too big to pray about and nothing too small to pray about. I actually had someone tell me - seriously – that she prays to find a parkingspot! Now I know that, to God, time is nothing – [in the words of the Psalmist “a thousand years in God’s sight are like yesterday when it is past”] – but it seems to me, [what with hunger and violence and all the other things going on in the world], that God has much better things to do than find me a parking spot!
I also have a hard time with the idea of prayer that suggests that I just need to convince God to be on my side, and not “the other side” – whether it’s in a war, or the GreyCup.
And I’m also uncomfortable with the idea that if I just pray hard enough, and use the right words, the right “formula” – [and have enough faith] – that I can convince God to “change the laws of nature” – to make it rain (when there’s not a cloud in the sky) because my garden needs it – or not to rain (when it’s obviously going to) because I’m planning a family picnic. Never mind that farmers are experiencing a devastating drought, or that there are terrible forest fires here in this part of the world, or torrential flooding there in that part of the world – it’s my garden and my picnic that really matter to God – if I pray hard enough and in the right way.
So I’ve struggled with prayer all my life – the definition of prayer, the discipline of prayer, the practice of prayer, the abuse of prayer.
There is something deep inside me – [and, I suspect, deep inside every person] – that moves me to connect with the Source of Life, which – for me – is God – or “the Divine” – or “the Sacred”. This is not necessarily a “logical” or “rational” impulse, but – rather – a “primal” impulse. It’s from the gut, the heart – not the head.
Author Anne Lamott in her fantastic book “Traveling Mercies” says that the 2 most common prayers are“Thank you, thank you, thank you”, and “Help me, help me, help me”. And I think she’s absolutely right!
In the “help me, help me, help me” category, I think of the times in our lives when we just feel sohelpless, and so afraid – someone we love has been diagnosed with a serious illness, something is wrong with one of our kids. But when we pray that kind of prayer, it’s about us, it’s not about God...it’s about our need, not God’s need. We don’t pray for God’s benefit; we pray for ourownbenefit. God doesn’t need our prayers; we need our prayers! So we don’t need to worry about our prayer being polite or proper or grammaticallycorrect or even “theologicallycorrect”. It’s an expression of our deepest, most raw, most immediate need.
At the other end of the spectrum are the times in my life when I am so filled with gratitude that my heart feels like it’s going to burst. There’s a Yiddish word for that feeling – it’s to “kvell”. Usually, for me, it’s around family things...when my sons and daughters-in-law (and of course my 3 beautiful grandchildren) are gathered around my dining room table for Sunday dinner, where I can see them and know that they are healthy and happy and safe, that’s when I “kvell” and feel moved to say “Thank you, thank you, thank you”.
I was fascinated to read what Robert Buckman had to say about prayer in his book “Can We Be Good Without God?” Buckman is a cancer specialist and professor at the University of Toronto – and, at the time of writing the book, president of the Humanist Association of Canada. This is what he has to say about prayer – and remember, this is coming from a person who is an humanist and a atheist: “Prayer helps. We all know that. As a physician, I see it all the time when patients tell me about what they experience when they pray. You do not need to be a theist or to have a belief in any religion to see the benefit that comes from the act of praying. The benefit comes to the person who prays, whether the request in the prayer is granted or not. With prayer – as with so many important human actions – there is a difference between process and outcome. The process of praying is a state of mind that the person enters into: when it works, it produces some measure of tranquility, of resolution, and a feeling of makingcontact with inner resource and strength”.
The way I understand prayer has changed over the years – a lot! – and the change in the way I understand prayer is paralleled by a changing understanding of God.
When I was a child, the only kind of prayer I knew about was verbal prayer. I didn’t know about “contemplative practices” or “meditation” or “emptying the mind” to better recognize God’s presence. I just knew that we prayed inchurch – sometimes just the minister (that long, boring “pastoral prayer” as it was called in those days), and sometimes all of us together. And I knew that we were “supposed” to pray athome, too – usually, in my family at least, “rote” or “set” prayers that we said before meals and at bedtime.
As a child, I thought of prayer primarily as asking God for something – for protection (“Now I lay me down to sleep”)…for favours (“Please let me win the game”)…for material things (a new bike for my birthday)…for health and safety for the people I loved (“God bless mom and dad, and my brothers, and my grandmas and grandpas”).
Behind all of this was the idea of a “theisticdeity” – a God “up there” – “in heaven” – “far away” – who could do supernatural things – if I just had the “right words” or “enough faith”. Someone has referred to this God as “The Heavenly Vending Machine”– you pop in the right “currency” (the right words, the right attitude, enough faith) and you get the desired “product” (answered prayer).
The way I see God now – [as a presence here and now - in individuals, in relationships, in community, in the world of people and of nature] – changes the way I see prayer. Now, prayer for me is not addressed to a reluctant, supernatural, distant being who may or may nor be there, and who may or may not answer. Instead, prayer becomes a way of entering into and nurturing a relationship with God. Prayer – [if you want a definition] – is “attending to our relationship with God”. Prayer is about “paying attention” to God.
Most people writing about “prayer” these days identify 2 different kinds of prayer: verbal prayer and non-verbal prayer.
Verbal prayer addresses God with words - whether alone or in community, whether aloud or in silence, it is addressed to God as a “You”, as the presence who is right here – right now.
And so it is conversational. It is simply talking with God – not as you would talk to an authorityfigure like a King, Prime Minister or President, but as you would talk to a lover, a friend, a sibling or loving parent. In such relationships, we simply talk about whatever is on our minds – how we’re feeling, what we’re dealing with in our lives, what’s happened in our day, and so on.
And, yes, this kind of prayer often includes asking for something – for myself, patience or clarity…for those I love, healing and health…for the world, justice and peace. I don’t really know why I do this, or even what I expect to happen. But, as Marcus Borg says in his book “The Heart of Christianity”: “to refuse to pray in this way because we can’t imagine how it works is an act of intellectual pride.”
The purpose of conversational prayer? Well, I guess you could say that it “reminds” us of God. It reminds us that being a Christian, a person of faith, is about being in relationship – with God and with others. Conversational prayer embodies the notion that relationships are nurtured by spendingtime together.
And then there is non-verbal prayer. I don’t know about you, but my early Christian experience was totally lacking in this kind of prayer. It just wasn’t part of “rural UnitedChurch life” in which I grew up and was nurtured and taught. In fact, many people still feel that they have to go outside our own Christian tradition to experience this kind of prayer – for example, to a Buddhist meditation group.
The mind is a busy, noisy, distracting place. Non-verbal prayer involves learning to “shut off the words” – to “become silent inside”. Meditation on a biblical text, use of a mantra, reflecting on an image, concentrating on the breath, lighting a candle – these are all ways of engaging in non-verbal prayer.
The “internalsilence” of non-verbal prayer creates space for God to speak to us. Non-verbal prayer is not about talking to God, but about being presentwith God and listening for God.
And the honest-to-God truth is that – sometimes – we just can’t find the words – or the will – or the strength – to pray. This is why I find the 8th chapter of Paul’s letter to the Romans so helpful: “God’s spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very spirit intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words”.
That’s very comforting for me to know – [that when I’m just so discouraged and disheartened and confused that I can’t pray] – God’s spirit prays for me – “with sighs too deep for words”.
For 36 years I’ve been facilitating study groups and adult confirmation classes where I invited participants to think about their experience of prayer – as a child (either growing up in the church or not being part of the church), and now as an adult. “What is prayer for you? What was it then? What is it now? How has it changed? What works for you - and doesn’t work for you?”
I’m always struck by two things – 1) the rich variety of responses; and 2) the challenge that the practice of prayer still presents for many people.
“I experience prayer when I’m alone in nature (some people will say)…I experience prayer when I’m dancing…when I light a candle and sit in silence…when I write…listening to music…use the scriptures…the rhythm of walking is prayer for me…my Quaker mother taught me to ‘hold people in the light’…painting, sculpting…contemplating a loving act or meditating on words and images that appear in my dreams”.
The other side of the coin is that there is still a lot of confusion and ambiguity about prayer, even – and maybe especially – among people who’ve been practicing prayer for a long time! Another article fromTheChristian Century tells of a church youth group in the United States discussing how 9/11 affected their prayer life. One young man said that he’s not been able to pray since that event, since he assumes that many of the people in those planes and buildings were praying that God would save them, and their prayers were not answered. Another said that he can’t pray for a different reason: he assumes that the terrorists were praying to Allah for courage to follow through on their plans, and their prayers were answered. These young people are notalone in their confusion about “the meaning and practice of prayer”.
The only response I can think of is this: Don’t trust people who give you easy answers to hard questions. Don’t let anyone tell you that there’s only one way to pray. Don’t let anyone tell you that anything you ask of God will be given – if you just say the right words, or pray in the right position, or have enough faith. Don’t let anyone tell you that “no” is a valid answer and that, you know, “whatever happens is for your own good” or that “it’s God’s will” or that “God knows best”.
Isn’t it interesting that – [of all the things Jesus asked the disciples to do] – this is the onlyone for which they needed direction. Praying. What does that say about the wonder, the difficulty, the mystery of prayer?
Thanks be to God!
Warren McDougall
Richmond Hill United Church
August 19, 2012
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