The Nature of Prayer

Being in Prayer

“Prayer...is waking up to the presence of God no matter where I am or what I am doing. When I am fully alert to whatever or whoever is right in front of me; when I am electrically aware of the tremendous gift of being alive; when I am able to give myself wholly to the moment I am in, then I am in prayer.”

Barbara Brown Taylor (An Altar in the World)

While I was enjoying myself at the lake last week, two young people died here in Birmingham. One was a woman; married, with two little daughters, aged three and seven. She had cancer for which there was no treatment. The other was a man, who died from undiagnosed AIDS. I didn't know them, but followed their journey by way of my grieving friends who were closely related. I found myself praying for them—for their families, friends, and loved ones who were devastated by loss. When a young person dies, we have a sense of betrayal. Somehow, it's feels unjust, especially when little children are involved. When we see those we care about in pain, it is natural to ask God to relieve that suffering, to give them peace, to let them rest.

Every Sunday in worship, we have the prayers of the people: prayers of celebration, prayers for those who are sick or in trouble, and prayers for the world, its leaders and its people. When we first started this practice, people felt reluctant to speak up, but now, after years of bringing our concerns, we shout them right out. What is the point of having a God, it you can't ask for help when you need it?

Some of us hesitate to pray—we censor ourselves, not wanting to bother God with trivial petitions. It's silly to ask for a good parking place at Wal-Mart, we say, and we're probably right. But there are all sorts of prayers, and most of them don't involve asking for anything at all. My friend, Isie, for instance, has conversations with God. “I talked to God about it,” she says, and presumably, God talks back. She seems satisfied with the answers she gets.

Brother David Steindl-Rast, a Benedictine monk, who wrote the book, gratefulness, the heart of prayer, said that prayer could be summarized in two words: Wake up! Just biting into a ripe, still-warm-from-the-sun peach, feeling the juice run down your chin, the sweet fragrance and flavor bursting forth, making your mouth just naturally say, 'ummmm'; that's a prayer. Simple awareness and gratitude are sufficient.

I can not bring back those two young people; nor can I assuage the pain and suffering of their families and loved ones, but I can hold them in my heart. I can be aware of their grief. I can wrap them in loving thoughts. In doing so, I know that God is listening.

                                             In the spirit,

                                             Jane