Rector's Blog: Honest Work of Prayer
Praying is hard.
I don’t want it to be hard. I’ve been a Christian my whole life, and now praying is even a part of my job. But it’s hard. And sometimes I feel like I’m bad at it.
By the way, it doesn’t matter if it’s already written down or not. Episcopalians have a whole book of prayers for every occasion. I love them. I love reading them. And I’m glad to pray in front of a group of people by reading one of them aloud. But even then, I can sometimes hear my inner voice sneak in and say, “Am I even reading this right? And now that I am thinking about praying while I’m praying is it still a prayer? I’m a fraud, right?” Praying is hard.
Have you ever been on the phone with someone and you get caught up in telling them something, and then in a moment of self-consciousness you realize you’re not even sure if the person is on the other end? You say, “Are you still there?” Usually they are, of course: They’re just listening to you (which is probably what you wanted and needed) but you got nervous about being heard. Even worse – sometimes they aren’t there. You have no idea how long you’ve been talking or what the last thing they heard you say was or who should call whom back. I’m a talker. This happens to me a lot.
This is what prayer feels like to me sometimes. Like an ongoing conversation with incredibly energizing moments followed by a possibly unheard monologue.
It’s at this point that some helpful religious person will tell you maybe you should listen more when you pray. Because it’s your fault, you see, that prayer is hard. Don’t buy it. People who have devoted their lives to silence and contemplative prayer consistently complain of long stretches of boredom and existential solitude: Sometimes they are overwhelmed by God’s presence, but often they feel alone and awkward. So, sure, maybe listen more when you pray: But understand that this will not in any way make prayer easier.
Oftentimes when we are having a difficult time with praying, with beginning to pray, with what to pray about – we fall into the pattern of saying we are bad at praying. If you are praying at all, you are not bad at praying. You may be unsure and awkward, fumbling and frustrated – but you are not bad: You are trying to figure out what it means to talk with and listen to God. Friend, that’s honest work.
This is a blog, not a treatise or a class, so I won’t go into the myriad reasons why Christians are supposed to pray. Suffice to say, Jesus prays a lot, and he repeatedly and consistently tells his followers to pray. So, whether or not we’re good at praying is quite beside the point. Prayer is meant to be a part of our lives.
I’d love for you and I to be able to let go of the shame around praying. And I’d like us to do that together. Because God made us all for each other, and many of us have found each other in this community of prayer we call church, and many of us pray primarily together in our church – even if we don’t then talk about it. So, I’m wondering how being part of Redeemer helps you pray. I’m curious what it means for you to pray alongside other people who feel just as lonely and awkward as you. And if you want to pray more intentionally, if you want to “get better” at it – whatever that means for you – how can Redeemer walk alongside you in that work? How can your church support you in the difficult honest work of learning how to talk with and listen to God?
If it’s going to be hard, we may as well be in it together.
