My thoughts on prayer

"How one conceives of ultimate reality seems to play a pivotal role in how one views and values the act of prayer."

_______________________________

Prayer is a foundational practice within many of the world’s most popular religious traditions- from the most literalist to the more mystical strands.

For some traditions, prayer involves the petitioning to a deity (or deities) who is (are) believed to be able to both “hear” and respond to such requests. For these faithful individuals, prayer is often viewed as a two-way conversation where the person praying can both appeal to the deity (or deities) in which they believe and also receive messages from such a deity (or deities).

For other spiritual traditions, prayer is treated more as an act of mindful meditation which helps the individual to both reflect on their thoughts and actions and increase their awareness of the world around them. For many of these individuals, prayer is the act of becoming totally absorbed in what they are doing, be it a mundane task or a pursuit of what one believes to be their calling in life. In this view, prayer is as simple as thinking, reading, eating and walking to the extent that some of these individuals can sense no distinction between a thoughtful way of living and a life of prayer.

How one conceives of ultimate reality seems to play a pivotal role in how one views and values the act of prayer. These conceptions form one's philosophical or theological worldview which is influenced by a variety of factors including one’s personality, culture, upbringing, knowledge, and experience.

In many cases, those who believe in a responsive deity that can miraculously intervene in human affairs will find petitionary prayers to be central to the way they function in life. Throughout human history, these individuals have prayed for rain, food, assistance, alleviation of pain, protection, guidance, deliverance, liberation, comfort and strength. Such individuals possess a worldview that relies heavily on presuppositions rooted in the dualistic view of reality which recognizes both distinction and relationship between the supernatural realm and natural world. Examples of this view of reality include many adherents of Judaism, Islam and Christianity.

In contrast, those who do not believe in the idea of a deity who miraculously intervenes in the natural world will likely rely less on prayer as petition and rely more on it as an exercise in reflective meditation. Many of these traditions which hold such a view of prayer typically do not imagine ultimate reality in the form of a personalized being. Instead, they conceive of ultimate reality as a unified and complicated whole. Such individuals possess a worldview that relies heavily on presuppositions rooted in the monistic understanding of reality as a unified whole comprising of all aspects of the natural universe. Examples of this view of reality include many adherents of Buddhism, Taoism and more Earth-centered or pagan spiritualities. I personally lean more towards this view.

Throughout human history, many enduring questions have arisen concerning the efficacy of prayer as it is such a core practice for many people. What do we really expect to receive from praying? Is there power in prayer? Can our prayers make a difference? Are we praying to a deity (or deities) that can really intervene in human affairs? Did something happen because we prayed for it to happen? Is prayer nothing more than our best guess about an unseen plan set forth by “the creator of the universe”? Or is prayer just a "placebo"* that reduces our anxiety level and provides us with psychological reassurance as we try to function in the midst of an uncontrollable, unpredictable and chaotic universe?

I pray that I find out.

* There have been countless studies done on the power of placebos (which are often sugar pills) and the human mind's ability to convince us of those subjective realities we want to believe. Here is a recent study.

The challenge for dreamers like me

I am an idealistic dreamer who loves to read. Reading has officially bypassed illustration as being one of my favorite pastimes. I enjoy immersing myself in the ideas, experiences and insights of the authors. I also enjoy reading both fictional and biographical accounts of individuals who choose to live out their convictions against all odds.

But I always find it challenging to ground the knowledge I have gleaned from books into meaningful applications relevant to the context in which I live. I have noticed that I often fail to relate abstract ideas to the concrete issues that the people around me are facing in their particular contexts. Living contextually is a demanding exercise that separates the dreamers from the doers. It demands realism and devalues escapism. The endeavor itself requires that an individual draw deeply from their own wells of wisdom, awareness, and creativity and employ resourcefulness in their attempts to resolve complicated, real-life situations.

Last fall, a graduate from the seminary I currently attend told me a story of an effective contextual approach. As he tells it, a few years ago, he was working as an associate minister in an 8,000-member Baptist congregation in Brooklyn, New York. In that context, there were thousands of members who were old in years and who had attended that church for almost half a century together. A lot of close, long-lasting relationships had been formed in that time. With such a large and aging population, many of them passed away and these deaths became so frequent that the church hosted funerals for elder members at least twice a week.

In this context where funerals were so common, the ministers came up with the idea that when Easter came around they would have "a funeral for Jesus" on Good Friday, complete with a casket and flowers- much like the ones their own friends were buried with. The idea was that since this congregation was very familiar with the pain of losing their friends, then maybe they could better identify with the pain that Jesus' friends and disciples must have felt when he was killed. The experiment was a resounding success and on Easter Sunday the congregation celebrated Jesus' resurrection like never before. This is a great example of how creativity, wisdom and resourcefulness was used to bring an abstract idea to life in a way that was relevant for a particular context.

History’s most admired figures are those who managed to incarnate their abstract ideas into concrete form. The storytellers of myth and history tell us inspiring accounts of how Jesus of Nazareth inspired those around him while challenging the religious and imperial authorities of 1st century Palestine; how radical philosophers like Voltaire introduced Enlightenment ideals of freedom and equality into popular culture and challenged and the sanctified corruption of the French Catholic Church in the 18th century; how Mohandas K. Gandhi employed nonviolence in his mass protests of the oppression committed by the British Empire; how Harriett Tubman attained her freedom from slavery and risked her life to help others escape its clutches; how pastor and theologian Reinhold Niebuhr publicly challenged wealthy entrepreneur Henry Ford regarding the work conditions of Detroit’s auto factories; how Dorothy Day advocated for and fed hungry and poor people driven by her faith in a God who could provide enough for all; how John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s used music and their own superstardom to campaign for peace in a time of war and social unrest; how liberation theologians like Oscar Romero opposed the death squads in El Salvador with a message of love and humanization; how visionaries like Martin Luther King Jr. mobilized masses of committed individuals and worked tirelessly to exorcise the ideological demons of racism, militarism and materialism from America’s soul.

All of these are inspiring and meaningful stories for many of us today. But I think it would be foolish to assume that we need to replicate the exact efforts of those individuals in our modern struggles as we are facing personal and global situations which possess their own particular areas of complexity. The fact is that we live in cultural contexts with different dynamics and players and we have tools and resources that many of the aforementioned individuals did not have at their disposal.

The real question seems to me to be a matter of how we might adapt the insights from such stories and our own experiences into practical applications appropriate to the challenges of our contemporary contexts. We may have to remix, reinvent and revolutionize previous approaches and, in the process, learn entirely new ways of resolving our own complicated situations.

When I think of living contextually, an analogy that pops into my mind is that of mountaintop and valley experiences. Like the Pentateuch’s stories of Moses, a Hebrew prophet who would periodically leave the masses of his people in the valley and travel alone to mountaintops to receive instructions from The God of Israel. As it frequently played out, Moses would return from the mountaintop inspired by his mystical experiences only to be welcomed back by all of the thorny, frustrating and complicated issues that the people were dealing with back in the valley.

It had to be tempting to stay on that elevated sanctuary, but Moses was called to use what he gained from those inspiring moments in his engagement with those human complexities found in the valley. This is the challenging and tense place where inspiration meets reality and gives birth to progress.

How do you adapt what you have received in an inspiring moment into a meaningful application for others? This is and always will be the challenge for dreamers like me.

The need to revisit my personal credo

I am an explorer. I am one of those people who enjoys the “thoughtful consideration” of new possibilities, insights and potential truths as I try not to be too quick to discount the validity of an idea. This personality trait (in addition to my skepticism) doesn’t earn me a lot of fans in the circles of dogmatic individuals who seek to enforce doctrinal and ideological conformity. In most cases, it makes me a threat. But in my view, questions considered to be "threatening" often serve as invitations to a closer examination of both ourselves and our surroundings.

I have grown convinced that many contemporary scientific and philosophical insights about reality have rendered more traditional ways of thinking both irrelevant and obsolete. Therefore, I am primarily interested in researching and finding new ways to holistically integrate scientific insights and the complexities of reality with the insights of the world’s religious and non-religious traditions and philosophies in order to create a more meaningful, relevant, credible and practical ethic of life. This pursuit has consumed much of my time, energy and attention over the past few years.

But at this point in my life, I feel a growing need to clarify my personal views for both myself and those close to me. Knowing myself, I tend to leave people “in the dark” in regards to how I think about and connect various ideas (especially the more “radical” ones). Ironically, I work in the communications field but I find that I often under-communicate with those close to me and get frustrated when these same individuals don’t understand me. I haven’t been the clearest communicator with those whom I have personal relationships- especially when the topic is a “high-stake” issue like belief. But by neglecting to organize my thoughts I have found that it is possible to hold an intellectual position so long that you can forget the core reasons as to why you accepted and adopted such a viewpoint in the first place. It’s not that I have totally forgotten how I arrived at certain viewpoints, but if I were asked to explain “where I come down” at a moment’s notice, my reply would likely come out more nebulous than clear.

In such instances, I think it’s beneficial to regularly reexamine one’s views so that one can better articulate them when it is necessary. This is not easy. Admittedly, I have developed both mental and psychological fatigue in the process of assembling the “puzzle pieces” of my research. It seems that as soon as I add new a component, I forget an older one. The complexity of the task continues to overwhelm me as I have been going about it in a very disorganized and “scatter-brained” way.

Therefore, I have recently decided to organize my efforts so that I can be more effective and efficient. First, I will begin organizing my findings and reflections into compartmentalized folders. In these folders I will save pertinent materials (quotes, passages, statistics, findings, etc.) for quick reference. Second, I will then break my project down into smaller, more manageable bites where I will write several in-depth pieces exploring the systematic framing of my personal theological/philosophical/ethical outlook. I know organization is an elementary idea for some folks, but it is a revolutionary concept for me.

In the coming weeks, I will explore my personal philosophies about prayer, God, Jesus, the Bible, divine revelation, salvation, sin, supernaturalism, miracles, suffering, and evil. I will do so with the understanding that, in traditional Christianity, many of these issues are interconnected to the point that a shift of belief in one part will affect all other components. I also plan to touch on topics such as human nature, genetic diversity, evolution, human sexuality, justice and creativity. I will also do this with the understanding that my views will likely continue to develop over time.

Now I must clarify that in no way do I think I am exploring any uncharted territory here. For the past several centuries, many gifted philosophers, scientists and expert theologians have dedicated their lives to writing thick volumes about many of the topics I am interested in exploring. Rather, I am doing this to fulfill a personal need for clarity and understanding inspired by truth-seekers like Mohandas K. Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. who were able to convert years of intense scholarship into lives of unselfish service. I hope such an in-depth period of self-examination and exploration of "the dark side of the moon" might result in the sharpening of my focus and the strengthening of my convictions.

It is also my hope that this process will serve as a sort of “time capsule” that can capture and articulate where my thoughts are at the present moment. All of this should result in the formation of a revised credo- a statement of beliefs, convictions and guiding principles. The result will by no means be exhaustive, but it is my hope that this process will draw me closer to some firm and well-reasoned conclusions on a variety of complicated matters. I hope this process will help me to see whether or not I really have firm ground on which my ideas stand.

I will try to visit at least one topic each week. The first topic I plan to visit is the issue of prayer. We'll see how it goes.

Am I Seeking Truth or Justification?

In my quest for knowledge I sometimes I have to stop and ask myself, “Am I seeking the truth or am I seeking justification for my opinions?” This question plagues me regularly and the doubt it invokes in my mind haunts me to humility. It seems that one can go so deep into one’s research that one loses the ability to distinguish between the hunger for truth and the desire for justification. But interestingly, there have been plenty of times in my life when my desire for justification has led me to “the truth” about something.

Sometimes I will have a hunch or a growing conviction that has yet to be supported by adequate evidence and, despite my lack of information, I hold on to such convictions because I think I might be on to something (a kind of “faith”- I suppose). In other words, I have a sneaking suspicion that- given adequate time and investigation- I could discover a new truth or way of understanding something.

A majority of my suspicions are driven by hints of an anomaly that is being ignored, suppressed or overlooked by popular opinion. Other times, my hunches and suspicions are aroused in response to condemnatory acts committed towards other people in the name of a political or religious ideology. Many times I have followed such hunches to some rather credible sources which have given adequate support for my unconventional views.

But I also realize how dangerous it is to seek justification for one’s opinions with no regard for the truth. Those individuals who follow that path are highly resistant to reasonable alternatives and will not allow themselves to entertain the validity of a different perspective. Instead, they operate with a narrow "tunnel-vision", focused only on their personal agendas. This is an easy trap to fall in and I pray that I can avoid succumbing to this temptation. Such an extreme desire for justification destroys the possibility for both honest investigation and authentic dialogue between concerned individuals. Convinced of the certainty of their claims, such dogmatic individuals evoke in my mind the image of a deaf megaphone shouting its proclamations at a high decibel level with no regard for the whispering voices of reason, doubt and humility- those age-old enemies of individuals who seek to justify themselves.

While some fundamentalists might view them as the qualities of inferior beings, I value reason, doubt and humility as I believe they are trustworthy guides in the sincere search for truth and discovery. I personally find no value in being irrational, certain and confident when one’s views are proven to be wrong.

But I don't mistake humility for silence. I truly believe there are those times in which we must fearlessly express both our concerns and the truth as we understand it. Here, I am reminded of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s prophetic address at New York’s Riverside Church on April 4, 1967 (exactly one year before his assassination) where he reinforced his much-criticized opposition to the United States’ involvement in the Vietnam War. King opened his speech with a stirring discussion about the difficulty of being a non-conformist driven by “the demands of inner truth” during a time of great uncertainty. King says:

Even when pressed by the demands of inner truth, men do not easily assume the task of opposing their government's policy, especially in time of war. Nor does the human spirit move without great difficulty against all the apathy of conformist thought within one's own bosom and in the surrounding world. Moreover, when the issues at hand seem as perplexed as they often do in the case of this dreadful conflict, we are always on the verge of being mesmerized by uncertainty; but we must move on. And some of us who have already begun to break the silence of the night have found that the calling to speak is often a vocation of agony, but we must speak. We must speak with all the humility that is appropriate to our limited vision, but we must speak.

King speaks of a desperate need to speak out against injustice with “the humility that is appropriate to our limited vision.” But he is not calling for a humility that is silenced or "mesmerized by uncertainty," but one that functions despite it.

I find that when I am surrounded by those whose opinions and conclusions I consider faulty or misinformed, I feel compelled and responsible to seek out a more intellectually credible alternative. In those times, it seems my desire for truth and justification merge into one. But maybe that’s not a bad thing. Perhaps we would never seek truth if we didn’t desire some degree of justification for our hunches. Maybe this is one process that leads to progress.

Now I recognize that every researcher is limited by their own humanity and selective in their reference materials. I am also aware of my own tendency to persist in a desperate hunt for a loophole in what I consider to be an inconvenient truth. I admire the irony that in many cases those who aggressively seek to discredit an idea often find themselves becoming converted to the claims of that same idea. This gives me hope in the human capacity to seek the truth and shows that truth may survive despite our best efforts to resist it or suppress it.

I find it much more noble to seek the truth despite our desire for justification. Here, I am reminded of a few things a close friend of mine and fellow seminarian once said. Once, while praying before his sermon, my friend- a young, liberal-minded African-American pastor and scholar- stood before a congregation of conservative Christians and in a gentle tone said, “May we have the courage to follow the truth wherever it leads us.” With this statement, he laid out the inherent risk that exists along the path towards the truth. Following this train of thought, one can conclude that the truth is often unsettling and will probably cost us our comfort- and that is a cost very few of us are willing to pay. Several months prior to that moment, I had a conversation with this same friend who told me, “It is not heresy to question the truth; it is only heresy to deny the truth once it has been made obvious to you.”

I think those are encouraging words for any truth-seeker. May we follow the truth wherever it leads us and may we both recognize and accept it in all of its unsettling forms.

When a loving presence is needed

Oftentimes, our words get in the way.

I have a few close friends and mentors who are hospital chaplains. They have often told me that serving in that role has taught them more about themselves than about others. They’ve told me how they have frozen and responded without thinking when frenzied parents run to them asking if their child is going to live. Almost all of them have told me that they gained more from these traumatic experiences than they have learned in all of their years of seminary training.

Through their experienced wisdom, my friends in the chaplaincy field have also taught me that in many cases hurting people don’t need “the right words”; sometimes they just need a “loving presence.”

The Hebrew Bible’s story of Job is frequently offered as an example of both what and what not to do in a situation where someone has experienced great suffering. According to the story, Job was a “blameless and upright” God-fearing man who suffered greatly after experiencing the sudden deaths of his ten children and his servants in addition to having his entire body become afflicted with painful skin sores. The Book of Job 1:13 says that after his three friends had heard about Job’s troubles they took the initiative to find and comfort him by sitting “with him” for seven days and seven nights. During this time, “no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.”

Whether this story is historically true or not is beyond the point. The point is that this story illustrates a truth about the human condition that is worth wrestling with. At this point in the story, Job’s friends knew that what Job needed was not words, but presence. But, unfortunately, this did not last.

In her recent podcast on this story, Rev. Anne Robertson, a United Methodist pastor and author from Massachusetts, quotes a colleague saying, “Job’s friends were fine until they opened their mouths.” She notes, “They grew impatient in their waiting and after their seven days of silence, they began to offer their explanations and advice to Job…explanations and advice that God condemns at the end of the book.” She offers the following advice to those who would serve as counselors for others:

When friends or loved ones are experiencing great suffering, even if it does not seem so great to us, they do not need our words. They don’t need us to explain God’s actions, which we can’t do anyway, and they certainly don’t need us to tell them to get over it and look for the silver lining. When we enter the world of another’s suffering, we should come with a roll of duct tape to be applied liberally to our lips. It is a time simply to be present.

She goes on to offer some helpful suggestions as to practical things friends can do for those who are grieving, such as making dinner, replacing the tissues, running errands or simply reading a book to them. But she also offers a stern warning for those of us who dare offer words in the presence of those who are going through overwhelming grief and pain.

We should never, under any circumstances, say anything remotely like “God has a reason for this,” unless, of course, you are trying to make an atheist out of them. All God says in those moments is, “I love you,” and those are the words we may speak in the darkness.

I have heard the horror stories of well-intentioned ministers who have shown themselves to be insensitive to the needs of the people they had hoped to comfort. I’ve heard about a funeral service where the officiating minister tells the mother of a miscarried child (who was so small
they had to be buried in a shoe box) to take comfort in the fact that at least she won’t have to worry about stressing to pay for the child’s college tuition. Though it is hard to believe, someone actually said that.

I’ve heard about the ministers who barge into the room of a child stricken with cancer and began giving loud prayers and pouring out anointing oil- acts that only compound the fear and anxiety the child and their family are experiencing.

I’ve heard about the preachers who are more concerned with converting than comforting, as if to bandage the wounded with the pages of their sacred scriptures.

But I have also experienced inspiring people who can enter a room with a silent sensitivity and survey the scene of the suffering. Those relatives and friends who can visit and sit with you for hours, when they could have been tending to their own affairs. Those who seem to know just what you need when you need it.

I've heard stories about those individuals can sense when a family or patient wants to talk and when they should just leave their contact information and come back some other time. One of my chaplain friends described a period of three days when he would just step into a hospital room to survey the family’s situation and then step out upon realizing that it was not yet time for his intervention. After a few days, the family invited him into their grieving process and it worked out well for all involved as he let them lead.

Words often get in the way. But it seems that a loving presence can gain admittance into parts of the human heart where words have no access.