We weep with those that weep below,/ And burthen’d for th’ afflicted sigh:
The various scenes of human woe / Excite our softest sympathy,
Fill every heart with mournful care, / And draw out all our souls in prayer.
A good friend of mine has long struggled with the idea of prayer: what’s the point if you can’t change God’s mind? And if prayer DOES change God’s mind, what does that say about God? What does that say about the faith of the one praying? We’ve talked about this A LOT, and I echo Richard Rohr’s sentiments from Breathing Underwater:
“Prayer is not about changing God, but being willing to let God change us.”
I do believe that we ought to pray our desires for healing and restoration and forgiveness and thanksgiving and confession. I do believe that God takes action within our prayers. But I do not believe prayer is some sort of magical transaction between me and God, where God must respond to my will based on how strong my faith is. Prayer is not a cosmic slot machine where only the faithful pull all 7’s.
It is first and foremost a relationship. John Wesley said prayer is “the breath of our spiritual life” (Notes on the NT, 1 Thes. 5:16). Praying without ceasing is the idea that all of our life is centered on God. Lately, I have struggled to pray long prayers with words. My words feel empty. But I pray my emotions and my prayer life comes alive. I sit with my grief or my gratitude and acknowledge God’s presence in all of it. I think deeply about the people in my life who are struggling and I hold those thoughts before God. It’s a different way for me to pray, but it feels real (and my spiritual director says it’s an ancient way of praying so I guess I’m good :). I used to be VERY wordy with my prayers. I’d pace the floor and wave my hands and talk out loud to God. We’d argue, we’d agree, I’d worship, and all of that felt real. In high school I experienced speaking in tongues at an Assemblies of God youth group and all of that felt real.
I think our prayer language has the ability to shift over time, much like the rest of our relationships mature and change over a lifetime. My friend who struggles with prayer told me recently, “I am filled with so much gratitude, and I just want to thank God for all that’s happened. But I don’t want to make the assumption that God forced all these things to happen, that I’m somehow more ‘blessed’ than someone who had a really bad day.” I suggested he take a moment to focus on his emotional sense of gratitude, and at the same time, set his gaze to his concept of God. Without needing words or complex theology on predestination vs. free will, he could accept that God is good, and celebrate the goodness in his life alongside this good God.
I love the imagery of the four friends who tear back the roof and lower their paralyzed friend into the presence of Jesus. What a beautiful visual for what we are doing when we pray for one another. We are not praying to an indifferent God. We are not passively sitting by wishing for good things to happen. We are engaging in a meaningful relationship between ourselves, the person we’re praying for, and the God of creation and incarnation. I believe Jesus does provide the possibility for healing in every circumstance, even if it not the physical healing we might hope for. Healing can happen psychologically, emotionally, sexually, and spiritually. Healing can happen, and it does happen all the time. If only we have connected ourselves in prayer to this communicating God.