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New Testament Reading-1 Thessalonians 5: 15-23
The retired Episcopal bishop John Shelby Spong relates a story about a period in his life that transformed his perspective on prayer. The story begins when his first wife Joan was diagnosed with a cancer that was likely to be fatal. Because Spong was a prominent person in his community, a sizable network of people prayed on her behalf. The care and concern were greatly appreciated because of the love the prayers expressed. As it turned out, Joan experienced remission and lived six and half years more. This was much longer than had been initially anticipated. At the time, some people voiced the belief that the remission was a sign that their prayers were working.
Despite his gratitude, Spong was troubled by this belief. He wondered to himself what would have happened if a sanitation worker in his town had a sick wife. He would likely not have the community prominence and social networks of a bishop such as himself. Song further wondered, “Would that affect the course of” the sickness for the sanitation worker’s wife? “Would she live less time from diagnosis to death, endure more obvious pain, or face a more difficult dying? If so, would that not be to attribute to God not only a capricious nature, but also a value system shaped by human importance and the worldly standards of social elitism?” Spong continued, “Would I be interested in worshipping a God who would treat my wife differently because we had had opportunities in life that the sanitation worker had not had?” For Spong, the answer to such questions was a resounding no.[i]
Prayer is one of those private topics that we do not often discuss, even though studies tell us that most people in our country do in fact pray. Nevertheless, prayer is something that I think many people find to be a vexing issue for reasons similar to those described by Spong. There are different ways of responding to the quandaries posed. Some people give up prayer entirely. This doesn’t mean they are atheists. It simply means they no longer find prayer meaningful or purposeful. Others, by contrast, give up particular forms of prayer. I remember visiting a church member in the hospital not long their before passing, and the member confided to me a sincere and well-reasoned disbelief in intercessory prayer, prayer to God on someone else’s behalf. For this reason, the prayer chain was simply not desired by this person. Still, others maintain such forms of prayer but redefine them in ways that make more sense to them. For example, when we lift up names during our community prayer, one might not believe that God is taking notes in order to decide who to cure and who not to cure. Rather one might instead believe that there is a value and worth in voicing one’s deepest concerns and desires so that they might be lifted up and surrounded by the love of a community representing the Body of Christ. Love may not always provide a cure, but it can provide some healing.
This morning I don’t want to focus on throwing darts at more traditional conceptions of prayer. Instead, I first want to focus on what might be some of the alternative ways we can conceptualize prayer and then second I want to focus on a couple of very traditional components of prayer that I believe are still relevant for today. As we think about prayer this morning, I want to keep in mind something said by Roberta Bondi, a scholar who has focused her research on ancient traditions of prayer. When she counsels people about prayer, Bondi emphasizes over and over again that “there is no right way.” Rather, “the important thing is to find your way.”[ii]
Perhaps, a good place to begin is by starting with a definition of prayer that gives us some breathing room to think more expansively about what it can mean in practice. I like to think of prayer as simply tuning into God. Scholar Marcus Borg likewise says that “prayer is primarily about paying attention to God.” The nice thing about this definition is that it doesn’t require one to think of God as some being above the clouds with giant ears to hear and process billions of individual prayers. It doesn’t even require that one think of God in personal terms at all, even though the definition allows for that as well.
With this inclusive definition of prayer, what then is possible? What about prayer as appreciating the beauty of God’s creation? No words are required for this kind of prayer. One simply allows oneself to be filled with a sense of awe and reverence for the world around us. I once lived a few blocks from a rose garden that overlooked the bay area of California. For awhile, I made it a practice of walking to the rose garden on a regular basis. I would go there to simply clear my mind of its clutter as I stared into the beauty of the roses. As I did so, I often inexplicably found my heart softening and my eyes glistening. For me, such moments were moments of prayer.
What about music as a form of prayer? This past year I was driving by myself to and from the cemetery for a burial, and I found myself singing along to a gospel cd at the top of my lungs. I experienced an immense cathartic release as I sang. For me, that was a time of prayer. Along these lines, I lately have even come to appreciate some contemporary Christian music as being more prayerful than I might have once supposed. Contemporary worship music is often disparaged for its dumbing down of theology. Over and over again one sings simple lines about praising God as if God needs our praise, but then the other day I thought about how some of this music has a profound power over its listeners, and it occurred to me that the music itself, not the lyrics, but the actual music, creates for some an ecstatic, awe-filled experience of God that is a perfectly valid, even if it doesn’t work for everyone, just as classical music doesn’t work for everyone.
Next, what about reading as a form of prayer? This can take many forms. I know some members of our church like to subscribe to daily devotional readings like those our denomination emails to subscribers each day. A lot of people make devotional reading part of their morning routine. It helps them prepare and center themselves for the day. By contrast, I once made it a habit to read at the end of the day as I exercised on a stairmaster. That was my winding down time. The endorphins added to my sense that it was a spiritual experience. To build off this, what about walking and jogging as a time for prayerful reflection?
For the less active, how about journaling or writing as a form of prayer? One can write about one’s day and reflectively seek to discern God in one’s life. Or, maybe one doesn’t even explicitly write about God but one nevertheless feels a sense of God’s presence through the creativity of writing. Along similar lines what about art as a form of prayer? Or, what about cooking, baking, or gardening? Thinking about the multiple ways in which one can pray, leads Spong to declare that with such an orientation, “praying and living deeply, richly, and fully” can become “almost indistinguishable.” He says, “Perhaps…that is what Paul meant when he said, “Pray without ceasing”-which can also be translated as “pray constantly.”
From the many types of prayer that I have listed, one can see some reoccurring features. Often these forms of prayer involve a focused attention. One loses oneself in the activity and in the present moment. Distractions fade away. At the same time, these activities frequently help one to gain a sense of composure. Prayer is a time when we put ourselves back together. Our focused attention becomes our antidote to our fractured thoughts and emotions.
Ironically, one of the ways I think prayer puts ourselves back together is through the process of losing ourselves. Frequently, in prayer our own egos break down. I think we can see this happening in particular through two ancient components of prayer. The first component is compassion for others. We are all familiar with prayer that is all about me, me, me. I want this. I need this, but often prayer at its best is rooted in an empathetic concern for others. Rabbi Isaac Luria of the sixteenth century once said that a prerequisite to prayer is the disposition to love others as oneself.[iii] Prayer broadens our hearts. Talk about the power of prayer. Think of how many soldiers would lay down their guns if they had to pray first for their victims.
A second ancient component of prayer that breaks down our egos is that of gratitude and thanksgiving. This form of prayer focuses our attention on God’s goodness rather than our wants and needs. From the psalms to today, we can see this form of prayer. On this continent, one of the longest and most powerful traditions of prayer is found in black churches. I own an anthology of black prayers, and in this book from which I took our community prayer this morning, one can find prayers from many, many years back that contain phrases and expressions of gratitude for life that are still commonly heard in many black churches today. In my mind, I can still hear the healing words of the deacon from my younger days: “Thank you Lord for waking us up to see another day. Thank you for getting us up this morning clothed in our right mind. Lord, we know that troubles don’t last always. There’s joy coming in the morning. Though trials and tribulations may come our way, we’re gonna hold on to your unchanging hand. For thou art a rock in a weary land, a shelter in a mighty storm. Rejoicing in the glory of thy infinite goodness and grace, let all of the people say, Amen.
[i] John Shelby Spong, Why Christianity Must Change or Die: A Bishop Speaks to Believers in Exile, (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1999), 141-142.
[ii] Krista Tippett, “Approaching Prayer,” Speaking of Faith, (May 15, 2008),
<http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/approachingprayer/transcript.shtml >.
[iii] Sylvia Boorstein, That’s Funny, You Don’t Look Buddhist: On Being a Faithful Jew and a Passionate Buddhist, (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1997), 99.
