Prayer is such a staple of ordinary Christianity, Judaism, and Islam that I suspect many people do not give it much thought. If one grows up in a church, prayer has probably been part of the regimen. There are private prayers and there usually are corporate prayers. Different traditions do prayer differently, but each tradition typically has a “standard” way to do it.
Growing up as a Quaker, I learned that prayer was part of the deal. My trouble was no one ever taught anything about prayer. Of course, you learned the Lord’s Prayer. That was a given. It was not unusual to be in a situation and the leader would say something like, “And now let us pray the prayer that Jesus prayed…” Automatically, everyone launched into “Our Father…”
If I found myself in a non-Quaker group, I was ok until we came to that proverbial prayer-fork in the road. Suddenly, I would be gripped with unease. Do I say “trespasses” or “debts?” I would heed the advice of my cynical Episcopal college friend. “When in doubt, cough!” When you resume praying, you are past your dilemma!
I had not thought much about this until I began reading a book my friend gave me. I am not finding the book that interesting or helpful, but there are occasional tidbits that speak to me. The author, Sara Miles, is someone about my age who has had a somewhat tormented relationship with religion and the church. She has found her way back into a kind of Christian faith. It is very liberal, but also in touch with aspects of reality that many of us ordinary religious folks don’t experience.
The chapter I just finished reading had her located in San Francisco (of course!) attending a very liberal Episcopal Church that I actually have visited. That church is very engaged in social ministries to the down-and-out folks in the area. It was in a context of healing that she brought up prayer.
She began that section by saying, “The whole idea of healing prayer bothered me for a long time.” Then she encountered a nurse/priest who began to redefine healing. That person said, “There’s physical healing and a broader healing…Prayer’s not about getting the outcome you wish for.” I liked that line. And it obviously began to do new, good things for Sara.
To hold such a view of prayer begins to hint at the unconventional. Sara took it to a new level when she asked the nurse/priest Lynn a question: “How do you pray?” And then Lynn’s answer provoked me in very good ways. Lynn replied, “Well…I usually start off, ‘Okay, what the hell is going on here, God?’” That provoked me because it is unconventional and a bit irreverent.
If I don’t like this approach, then what is my approach? And if I like it, why do I like it? Why do I think this approach makes sense of my understanding of God, the world, and me? I like it in the sense that I certainly don’t understand everything and clearly I don’t always know what’s going on. Perhaps God does (but I am not even sure whether I believe that). But if God does always know what’s going on, then surely there is a reason to approach God and ask, “what in the hell is going on?”
I am certain that prayer is not getting in control of something. I also am clear for myself that prayer is not getting the outcome I wish. I know there are times I wish this were true. Sadly I know too many times I have really been praying, “not Thy will be done, but mine!”
My point is not that I (or you) need to take up unconventional prayer. The point is to ponder the role and effect of prayer in my life and be willing to engage God openly and honestly by praying something like, “okay, what the hell is going on here?” Unconventional does not mean wrong; it means different. I want to be open to this.
Growing up as a Quaker, I learned that prayer was part of the deal. My trouble was no one ever taught anything about prayer. Of course, you learned the Lord’s Prayer. That was a given. It was not unusual to be in a situation and the leader would say something like, “And now let us pray the prayer that Jesus prayed…” Automatically, everyone launched into “Our Father…”
If I found myself in a non-Quaker group, I was ok until we came to that proverbial prayer-fork in the road. Suddenly, I would be gripped with unease. Do I say “trespasses” or “debts?” I would heed the advice of my cynical Episcopal college friend. “When in doubt, cough!” When you resume praying, you are past your dilemma!
I had not thought much about this until I began reading a book my friend gave me. I am not finding the book that interesting or helpful, but there are occasional tidbits that speak to me. The author, Sara Miles, is someone about my age who has had a somewhat tormented relationship with religion and the church. She has found her way back into a kind of Christian faith. It is very liberal, but also in touch with aspects of reality that many of us ordinary religious folks don’t experience.
The chapter I just finished reading had her located in San Francisco (of course!) attending a very liberal Episcopal Church that I actually have visited. That church is very engaged in social ministries to the down-and-out folks in the area. It was in a context of healing that she brought up prayer.
She began that section by saying, “The whole idea of healing prayer bothered me for a long time.” Then she encountered a nurse/priest who began to redefine healing. That person said, “There’s physical healing and a broader healing…Prayer’s not about getting the outcome you wish for.” I liked that line. And it obviously began to do new, good things for Sara.
To hold such a view of prayer begins to hint at the unconventional. Sara took it to a new level when she asked the nurse/priest Lynn a question: “How do you pray?” And then Lynn’s answer provoked me in very good ways. Lynn replied, “Well…I usually start off, ‘Okay, what the hell is going on here, God?’” That provoked me because it is unconventional and a bit irreverent.
If I don’t like this approach, then what is my approach? And if I like it, why do I like it? Why do I think this approach makes sense of my understanding of God, the world, and me? I like it in the sense that I certainly don’t understand everything and clearly I don’t always know what’s going on. Perhaps God does (but I am not even sure whether I believe that). But if God does always know what’s going on, then surely there is a reason to approach God and ask, “what in the hell is going on?”
I am certain that prayer is not getting in control of something. I also am clear for myself that prayer is not getting the outcome I wish. I know there are times I wish this were true. Sadly I know too many times I have really been praying, “not Thy will be done, but mine!”
My point is not that I (or you) need to take up unconventional prayer. The point is to ponder the role and effect of prayer in my life and be willing to engage God openly and honestly by praying something like, “okay, what the hell is going on here?” Unconventional does not mean wrong; it means different. I want to be open to this.
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