Making Waves

Yesterday, students across the nation walked out of class to protest the school shooting that took place a month ago in Florida.  Many have hailed this as the beginning of a new movement; others have decried it as a stunt.  I’m not here to debate the merits of this particular action or even what it may or may not represent.  What I do want to look at is how and why groups are using various methods to “make waves” in our world.

What does it mean to “make waves?”  According to the online urbandictionary.com, it means:  to cause a disturbance, or to create a situation where chaos or controversy will surface

The underlying assumption is that there is a deceptively calm surface that requires a disturbance– that chaos or controversy are already present, and bringing them to the surface is necessary to prevent more tragic results.

If you live near a large lake or the ocean, you may have watched waves in action.  Waves can be powerful, and even tragic, in their own right.  Storm surge waves and tidal waves have been known to decimate coastal areas; even normal wave action can erode shorelines and pull unwary swimmers under the surface.  But waves also serve good purposes– they polish the stones and wash up treasures onto the beaches.  They prevent stagnation.  They help move small creatures that dwell in the sand and shallow waters.

One thing about waves that sometimes passes unnoticed– waves may change in size or power, but they are constant– rolling in and out unvaried in their rhythm from day to day and year to year.  In this sense, no one “makes” waves, except the creator, who started that rhythm and set the boundaries for the lakes and seas.  Instead, we attempt to create bigger, more powerful waves, or make waves where none were before– puddles, or swimming pools, perhaps.  At some point in our lives, we WILL make waves– but what kind, and to what purpose?

waves

My point is not that we shouldn’t try to be agents of needed change in our world– but we should examine the positive and negative consequences of our wave-making.  Are we pushing something to the surface that needs to be seen or discovered?  Are we pulling something under the surface to drown it out?  Are we eroding a foundation, or carving out a new coastline?  Also, are we being consistent in our wave-making?  Are we hoping for a single tidal wave of chaos, or a constant churning action that brings lasting change.

Of course, since this blog is about prayer, I would suggest that prayers are also like waves– each one breaking in its turn, but constantly rolling, churning, and moving forward, bringing things, both large and small, to the shore.  Prayers have a constant rhythm and a subtle roar that masks their full impact.  Prayers, like rolling waters,  intermingle, push each other forward, dance, and rise, and fall with the winds and storms of life, and roll back to rise up again.
Not all prayers are like waves– not all waves are like prayer.  but  shouldn’t we want to make waves in tune with God’s purposes?  Waves answer to God– he can both calm them, and stir them into wild fury; walk on them, or hold them back.

I pray that our prayers and our actions would be consistent with God’s rhythm; that we would embrace changes and actions that bring him honor.

Positioning for Prayer

Bow, kneel, stand; hands folded, hands raised, hands clasped–there are many positions we assume when praying.  And different types of prayer seem to have different positions.  We tend to say grace seated or standing behind our chair at the table.  Some families hold hands; others bow their heads and fold their hands.  Some corporate prayers call for kneeling; others are said standing.  Some people bow, some kneel on the floor with arms outstretched; some curl up in their favorite easy chair; some face east or toward a certain focal point; some touch or hold an object, like a rosary or a Bible, or the wall or surface of a sacred place.  Some pray with eyes closed; others with eyes raised toward Heaven.

Does any of this posturing and positioning really matter?  Does God have a preference?  A requirement?  Does He get offended if I stand, or keep my eyes open or neglect to hold my hands a certain way?

gracelady

The answer is not as easy as one might think–The Bible has many specific accounts of prayer, as well as many commands and guidelines.  Hebrew priests stood with hands raised to pronounce blessing and to seek God’s favor.  King David’s psalms are poetic prayers.  They don’t often describe a position of standing or kneeling, but many of them imply a position of lying down, pacing, clapping, shouting, climbing, etc.  Jesus often prayed alone, and spoke of praying privately– in corners and closets away from prying eyes and listening ears.  On the night of the Last Supper and in the Garden of Gethsemane, the Bible describes Jesus as praying while “looking toward Heaven” (John 17:1), and later, “he fell with his face to the ground and prayed.” (Matthew 26: 39)

All this indicates that positions matter in relation to the function or the nature of the prayer.  And that’s where I want to focus my thoughts today.

God isn’t displeased if I stand to pray, rather than kneel–unless I am standing in pride and arrogance.  He is pleased if I kneel in humble and contrite spirit, but not if I kneel out of false humility or to impress others with my self-righteous posturing.  If I bow my head at the table out of habit, and forget who I am supposed to be talking to, or “pretend” to kneel instead of leaving the comfort of my chair– then I may need to take a new position; a new attitude of prayer.

kneelprayer

God isn’t impressed with our physical position in prayer– but I believe he wants our whole self, our undivided attention and our physical and emotional expression and attitude.  Sometimes, the physical position comes as a natural extension of our grief, our joy, our reverence, and our stillness before His throne.  Other times, our physical position brings us out of our pride, our busyness, and prepares our heart attitude.

I have had moments–even days– when I was not naturally motivated to quiet my spirit, bow my head or my heart, and kneel before my Maker.  But in kneeling, and bowing my head, and closing my eyes, I was positioning more than just my body.  I was coming in obedience to the one– the only one– who can transform my mind, renew my spirit, and soothe my restless heart.  Other times, I could not kneel for the joy and exuberance of the moment.  Standing on tiptoe, hands raised, head raised, and heart raised, I sang out to my Father in gratitude and awe.

So the answer to the question– Does our position in prayer matter?– would seem to be, “no.”  What matters is our attitude. God is not impressed or fooled by an outward show–he is concerned with our heart’s desire to be close to him. There is, however, one position that is pivotal in the pursuit of prayer.  That is the position of Faith.  In Hebrews, we are told that “without Faith, it is impossible to please God, for whoever comes to him must believe that he exists, and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him..”(Hebrews 11:6)  Jesus spoke of faith that can move mountains, even if it is the size of a mustard seed.  Whether kneeling or standing, grieving or rejoicing, our prayers must be accompanied by faith– faith that God exists; that he is loving and gracious and all-powerful to save; faith that our “position” in him is one of reconciliation and renewed life through his grace and the finished work of Jesus Christ; faith that he will hear our prayers and answer according to his will; faith that his will is altogether good and perfect– even when we don’t understand it in the here and now.

One final thought–though the Bible does not specifically require that we kneel to pray as we pursue a relationship with him, it does declare that one day, “at the name of Jesus, every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth, and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord…” (Philippians 10-11a).  I can practice kneeling in this life, knowing that it won’t go to waste!

Prayer and Social Media

There are several positive and proactive aspects of prayer I want to explore in this journey, but I don’t want to deny or ignore some of the bad habits and false ideas that sometimes come with prayer.

One of the reasons I am writing this blog (see Prayer is a Pursuit) is to answer some of the critics and detractors of prayer.  Many of these critics are responding to what they see of and about prayer on FB or Twitter, on blogs like this, or on spiritually-minded websites.  If all I knew of prayer came from reading dashed-off posts and prayer memes accompanied by soothing photos, I would have a false and shallow idea of prayer, and one that invites criticism.

The Bible describes, and the Church practices, many different kinds of prayer.  Prayer can be intensely personal and private.  It can be communal or corporate in nature.  There are prayer partners, prayer groups, prayer chains, and congregational prayers.  But prayer is not primarily or ideally a social activity, and its essence is not suited to be broadcast or posted.

Social media can be a very helpful tool TOWARD prayer– requests, needs, and answered prayer can be shared; prayer can be urged and encouraged; prayer can be discussed (as in this post); prayers can be made public as examples.  And people can be greatly encouraged by the knowledge that their needs are being lifted up by family, friends, even strangers across town, across the country, and even around the world.

But prayer on social media also presents real problems, and I’ve gotten caught up in some, so I’m sharing some of what I have learned.  These areas have been stumbling blocks for me– that does not mean that they are “bad” practices in general, or that my questions or criticisms will apply to others.  But if someone else struggles with these thoughts or issues, I hope my journey might help.

  • Social media tends to promote the “tyranny of the urgent”– posts pop up screaming for attention NOW.  I feel pressure to respond immediately with something encouraging.  To say that I am “praying” or “I will keep you in my prayers” is encouraging–but is it true?  A couple of years ago, I realized that, in my desire to comfort and uplift, I had started stretching the truth.  I meant to pray for the person/situation/need…sometimes I sent a hasty and half-hearted thought heavenward before scrolling on.  But I wasn’t really opening my heart to God OR to the person in the post.  As one critic put it– I was making myself feel better.  My words may have given momentary comfort or encouragement, but they were basically empty and hollow.  I made a vow going forward to do one of three things:
    • If I can, I will stop what I am doing and take the time to really pray about the situation BEFORE I respond, comment, share, etc.
    • If I can’t take the time right now, but I have my prayer journal handy, note the concern on today’s page (or tomorrow’s) to make sure I include it in my daily devotional time, so I can pray thoughtfully and whole-heartedly.  Sometimes I will comment after the note is written, or after the prayer has been said.
    • If I can’t stop, add it to my prayer journal, or make a note– I don’t comment or respond.  The other person may not know the difference, but I will.  I don’t want to give a false impression.
  • Social media thrives on drama, algorithms, and visibility.  Recently, I received two similar prayer requests within a day of each other.  Two friends shared about two different men in life-threatening situations needing prayer.  One of my friends’ posts went viral, with people setting up fundraisers for the family, a website, and daily updates.  The other post simply said, “Please share.”  It got a few responses, and one update to say that the man had died of his injuries.  These men were both precious in the sight of God.  They were both badly injured in the line of duty, and both had families who loved them and were in crisis. They were both equally in need, but not equally visible.  I prayed for both, but I wondered at the difference in visibility, and how it might be changing our prayer focus.  I am tempted, as I spend time on social media, to be concerned about those things that are most visible.  But who is hurting in my neighborhood, among my friends, among those people I interact with daily– their needs invisible to me because I’m only focused on what I see online?
  • Social media is both social and self-oriented.  How many people “like” or “follow” me?  How big is the circle of people I can reach?  What impression do others have of me?  But prayer is not about me.  I have a bad habit (shared by many others–especially Americans, I think) of wanting to be seen as independent and self-sufficient.  I want to be the one offering support–the “prayer” and not the “pray-ee”.  But if I’m going to put myself “out there” in either capacity, social media tempts me to measure and compare myself with others.  I am tempted not to ask for prayer for little ordinary things, tempted to exaggerate some pains and downplay others, and tempted to respond to others in ways that make me look “good.”  That’s just human nature, but it’s also sin, especially when selfish concerns and petty thoughts crowd out the natural compassion I should have for others and the honesty I should have about my own weaknesses and strengths.
  • Social media is a “glass house.”  What you post in haste, in jest, or for your “besties” is out there for everyone to see– and judge.  We are told not to judge, lest we be judged (from Matthew 7:1).  There are several groups who love to quote the first part of that verse, but it’s the second part that relates equally to social media.  If I post beautiful words about prayer and encouragement for my Christian friends, and hateful rhetoric about my political foes, I had better be willing to own up to having a double standard.  The same goes for the random offensive, suggestive jokes, the rants about my noisy neighbor and my unsaved relatives.  Sitting in front of a silent screen tempts us to “let rip” with sarcasm, frustration, self-righteous indignation, and self-congratulation.  All of us have probably posted things we later regretted because we think better of our words, or because someone “took them wrong” .  I want to become better at prayer, better at communicating about it, defending it from attack, and promoting it.  But that comes with a responsibility to learn, be honest about my failures, and open about the struggles I face.

I hope to do just that as I journey forward– on- and off-line!

Persistent Prayer

BethelchurchI grew up attending a tiny country church numbering only a few families.  Church was not just a place to visit for coffee and a sermon on Sunday morning.  There were no large screens, no light shows, no bands, no padded theater seats.  What we didn’t have in the way of amenities, we made up for with fellowship– pot lucks,  church-wide outings, bake sales to raise money for missionaries, and community-wide Christmas caroling every December.  We didn’t have a big budget or slick publications.  There was no website or gym; no trendy decor in the entryway, or sound system.  But there was prayer– lots of it!  Prayer to open Sunday School; prayer to open the service; prayer at the end of Sunday service; and Wednesday Evening Prayer Meeting.  This was, for the children, an evening of games, singing, stories, and socializing with our friends, all in the church basement (painted cinder block walls, industrial fluorescent lights hanging down from beams to light up folding tables and metal folding chairs on the bare cement floor, which was sometimes home to spiders, toads and even the occasional salamander).  But upstairs, it was all business.  An hour of adults in the community coming together to pour their hearts out to God.

As I became a teen, I “graduated” to the upstairs–to a young teen it seemed an interminably long and slow process of sharing requests, sharing praises, and taking turns mumbling and rambling and regurgitating all that had come before, this time with eyes closed, and some of the old-timers on their knees instead sitting in the un-padded and creaky wooden pews.  Sometimes, there would be two or three hymns or a short devotional to round out the hour-long service.

I know there are churches that still have mid-week (usually Wednesday night) services, and some of them are devoted to corporate prayer  (my current church has one, in fact).  But most of these services have died out– due, I suspect, to the view I described above.  Very few of us are devoted to getting out one night every week to spend an hour kneeling on a hard floor “sharing” needs with others, only to repeat them to God.  But I think somewhere we missed the point, and the value, of these gatherings.  In going to Prayer Meeting, I got to hear the hearts of three generations of people across our community– farmers, construction workers, teachers, retired grandfathers, teens like me, pastors, recovering alcoholics, homemakers, business men and women–people with wildly different struggles, triumphs, and needs, and in different stages of their Christian walk.  I heard the exuberance of new converts, and the steady faith of aging saints; the struggles of the brokenhearted widower, and the needs of new parents.

Perhaps the most valuable lesson from Prayer Meeting was about persistent prayer.  Week after week we reported answered prayers, but other requests seemed to linger.  Some who desired healing never found it (in this life).  Some relationships were never restored.  Some faced the same struggles with anger, or job loss, or loneliness over a period of months.  Was our prayer ineffective, or our faith deficient?  Did God not hear?  Didn’t he care?

I believe God heard every word; every groan, every sigh.  I believe he ached with every burden we brought before his throne.  I believe he was (and is) in the midst of every gathering.  And I believe that prayer is often like those conversations we have with our oldest and dearest friends about those same persistent problems.  God has the power to deliver us without the struggle, without the wait.  We don’t know why he allows some struggles to play out over years while others end in timely triumph.  But I believe that for every situation that challenges our faith and endurance, he is there for every tear, every question, every ‘SMH’ moment, every stumbling step forward.  And when we come together to share the burden with our neighbors, family, friends in fervent prayer– God is present, not just as the Father on his throne, but as the Son who cried out on his knees in the Garden of Gethsemane, and the Spirit who interprets our groaning when words are not enough.

I say a lot of quick prayers; sometimes urgent, and often simplistic and even easy prayers.  I am slowly rediscovering the value of persistent  and corporate prayer.

 

Prayer is a Pursuit

“Stop sending your thoughts and prayers– they are useless.  Get up off your knees and take action, instead.”
I was stunned.  People had been reacting on Facebook to a recent tragedy by posting their concerns.  Most of them were heartfelt messages sending “thoughts and prayers” to the victims and their families.   But they were followed by a backlash of  anger and frustration so visceral that I felt sucker-punched.  Worst was an entire article that suggested that praying was a futile distraction– an admission of helplessness that actually contributed to inaction, injustice, false hope, and secretly condoned violence and victimization as part of “God’s will.”
As I reeled from what I felt was a sharp and hateful article, I stopped to wonder where that kind of anger and bitterness was coming from.  Some of it was obviously a reaction to the tragedy itself– a violent attack resulting in a senseless loss of life.  Such events leave us feeling shocked, confused, and helpless– How could this happen?  Why?  And, often, our questions are directed at God– “Where were you?” “Why did you let this happen?”  “Don’t you care?” We may question God’s goodness, his justice, and his very existence.  Our prayers may even seem futile– unheard and unanswered.
So why did the article and its suggestions shock and hurt me so deeply?  Was it a lurking conviction that the author had a valid point?  Am I wasting my time when I pray for those who are grieving and suffering pain and loss?  Am I wasting my time praying to a God who seems distant in times of crisis?

Which brought me back to the basics–in this case, what IS prayer?

This blog is an attempt to pursue the many interconnected answers to that question.  At its heart, I believe (as do most people of a spiritual bent, regardless of their particular religious tenets) that prayer is an attempt to talk to, to communicate with, God.  But what I believe about prayer is dependent on what I believe about God.  Does he exist?  Really exist?  What (if anything) does he expect of me?  Blind and slavish fealty?  Absolute, if grudging, obedience?  Idle/Idol worship?  A comfortable, acquaintance, a  mutual admiration?  A deep and eternal inseparable relationship?
Our prayers will be shaped by our answers to those and other questions– if I believe that God only wants me to recite a canned response every once in awhile, that’s what I will give.  If I believe that God wants me in perpetual groveling…you get the idea.

So what do I believe about God and how to communicate with him?  First, I believe that Prayer is a pursuit– it is my earnest desire to seek out the God who made me in his image– unique and precious in his sight.  I believe he WANTS to hear from me, and he WANTS to answer with revelation of his nature, his character, his heart.  Second, I believe that prayer is positive, because God is good.  Prayer is not an obligation, though it should be a discipline.  Prayer is not merely a ritual, though there are many forms it may take, from formal recitations to wordless groans.  Prayer moves us toward God, and toward others around us.  It is not static; it is not a vague wish or empty hope.
Third, I believe that prayer is powerful–much more than most of us recognize.  Far from being futile and inactive, I find that prayer leads to dramatic changes.  I have seen miraculous transformations–in myself, in others, even in the wider world–as a result of prayer.  The fact that God doesn’t always give us instant and dramatic answers doesn’t negate those times when he does provide the miracle.  And it doesn’t mean that our prayers were unheard, or unanswered.  Finally, it doesn’t make God complicit with the evil things that happen– God doesn’t give us cancer or send a flood to punish us for something we did or didn’t do, and he doesn’t keep us in pain or allow us to struggle without reason or remedy.

So, I am starting a quest to share my pursuit– things I have learned, am learning, and hope to or need to learn about this amazing gift called prayer.

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