|
Text — Luke 4:31-37
This question “why do we pray” takes on
different meanings depending on which word you emphasize.
Why do we pray? — that is,
instead of not praying? There was a time in my life when I
would have said, “I don’t pray.” Praying, I thought, was something
that superstitious people did. I was above praying. The way I see
it now, though, is that I was praying all along but didn’t know it,
or didn’t admit it. (I do think that there is such a thing as
superstitious praying, however.)
Here’s another spin on the question: Why do
we pray — in the plural? Why do we pray together? Is prayer
something we can ever do alone?
Why do we pray? What is prayer? Is
this something we can even understand? Are we supposed to
understand it? Maybe prayer is something that doesn’t come out of
our understanding at all. As time passes, I find myself wondering
if we really understand anything — even my own words and thoughts.
I’m playing with this question as a way of
recommending that we keep our minds as open as possible when it
comes to prayer. Sometimes I think that prayer may be the most
honest activity there is, because it’s the most humble activity, the
least presumptuous activity — although I suppose there is a proud
and presumptuous way to pray too.
Notice that I didn’t describe prayer as a
“human activity.” I don’t think of prayer as a merely human
activity. I think of it as something God does with us. Prayer is
part of “incarnation” or God becoming flesh. When we pray, God is
part of the “we.”
Or think of the question this way: Why
do we pray? “Why” has several meanings itself. “Why” can mean:
What do we think we’re doing? What is our conscious motivation?
What do we want to happen as a result of praying?
One of the many benefits of prayer is that it
helps us pay attention to our “why” and sometimes it changes the
“why.” Sometimes what we start out praying is different from what
we end up praying. That’s one way prayers are answered.
“Why” can also mean what’s driving our prayer
that we might not be aware of. This reminds me of Paul’s saying,
“We don’t know how to pray, or what we should pray, but the Spirit
intercedes and gives us utterance.” Here again is the idea of God
working through us in prayer.
“Why” can also mean: Where is our prayer
leading us? Where does it take us? How are we changed by our own
prayer? How might others be changed, especially when we tell them
we are praying for them?
The point I’m trying to make with this exercise
is that we’re not the only actors, or even the main actors, when we
pray. When we pray for people on our prayer list, they become
actors in our prayer life, and we become actors in theirs, and all
of this is within God’s larger activity.
Prayer is letting ourselves get caught up in
something bigger than we are. We need something bigger than we
are. Prayer changes us by turning us toward God. At the very
least, prayer is a radical change in perspective — and I would say a
radical improvement in perspective..
I’ve had a lot of conversations about prayer
over the years. Many people who ask me about prayer are people who
have trouble praying and they’re bothered by that. My response is
always something like this: “The fact that you’re bothered is a sign
of activity in your prayer life.”
Sometimes people ask me why I pray. My first
answer is, “Because I want to.” That’s all the justification I
need. I pray because I feel moved to do it. Praying is what I do
when I’m most honest about how it feels to be a fragile creature.
I also pray because it seems to work. Prayer
helps me face things I need to face. It helps me let go of things I
need to let go of. It seems to help people heal. The medical
community is starting to believe in prayer. Prayer doesn’t bring
God into the process as much as it acknowledges and opens us to God
already in the process, and that seems to help.
Elaine Bates died on this Sunday one year
ago. [For our visitors or those new to First Church, Elaine was
very beloved and extremely active member of this church who died of
lymphoma in her early fifties. She is still very much a part of
this church, in fact.]
We received the news that Elaine had died less
than an hour before the service began one year ago, and many of us
were struck by how appropriate and Elaine-like the liturgy and hymns
were that day. So today, our service is almost an exact copy of
last year’s.
We learned that Elaine had cancer in the
summer of 1994, and we started praying for her. I don’t remember
anyone asking, “Why are we doing this?” We prayed for her because
we wanted to. We prayed because prayer seems to work. We didn’t
imagine that our praying would keep Elaine alive forever. We prayed
to help her. And it did help her.
I have no doubt that Elaine, if she could
stand here in the flesh today, would say to us, because she did say
this many times, in various ways, “Your praying helped me stay
alive. Your praying, along with my knowing that you are praying,
and my hearing you pray for me on Sunday morning, helped me live my
life.” I don’t think prayer needs any more justification than that.
Our praying not only helped Elaine live her
life, but it also, in the background, it helped us live our own
lives. It helped us face and prepare for the day when she would
have to die, and in the background of that it helped us all prepare
for the day when we’ll all have to die.
Having said all this, we don’t know exactly
why we pray. We don’t know exactly the why of anything. We
don’t how prayer works. We don’t know where praying will take us.
We don’t know what lies ahead for anyone. In this sense, all
prayers are prayers of confession. All prayers are a way of
standing together, with God, in the face of all uncertainty.
In a book I read recently, the author talked
about the church as the “solidarity of the shaken.” But by being in
solidarity with each other, we’re not only shaken. By
praying together, by turning to God, by everything we do in worship,
singing, sharing Christ’s body and blood, giving our thanks, our
money, passing the peace — all of this is part of our prayer life.
Prayer is powerful. Prayer works. Prayer is
turning to God. All of this heals us; it gives us faith; it helps
us find joy. It helps us live our lives. |