Prayer is a Doorway

When was the last time you prayed? Maybe it was right after you woke up this morning. If you were in church on Sunday, you probably recited the Lord’s Prayer or stood in silence as a whole list of prayers were spoken. Or perhaps it has been years since you last did anything you felt could be considered prayer, forcing a few words in the midst of a crisis that ended in tragedy. It is considered one of the most essential parts to a life of faith, but for many prayer is a practice few are confident in keeping. 

Rarer still are folks like me who consider it work to string a few holy words together before a meeting or a meal. And while I am happy to pray when invited, I revel in the opportunity to make room for others to pray as well. We are a sainthood of all believers, after all, and praying out loud should be something all Christians can feel welcome to do.

Most of us, though, consider this conversation with God a private matter. That may be why so many of us would rather let someone else lead a dinner-time invocation. These are holy moments, where we try to articulate what it is we want, what we are grateful for, and who we are concerned about. And, in these moments we hope with all hope that this is not a one-way conversation of thoughts drifting and evaporating into the air above us. When prayer becomes less like a wish list and more like an interaction between loved ones, those hopeful moments have a better chance of remaining tangible.

Anyone who has a sliver of faith has most likely had moments like these, where the barrier between heaven and earth is thin. For some, it can be an everyday occurrence, and for others, it may happen once or twice ever. We may feel the need to speak with Shakespearean eloquence, laid-back language, or perhaps no words at all. Whatever the case may be, my sincere hope is that you find comfort in the kind of prayer that connects you to God and the world around you, that influences the nature of your being far more than you could ever desire to influence God.

Last week, the poet Mary Oliver died after a long life filled with wonder and words. She was best known for her love of creation and the meaning it imbued into her life. Many times she would reveal the current of her faith, her words like leaves on the river. As you consider the words or silence you use in those holy and hopeful times of your days, take in this poem she wrote, simply titled “Praying.”

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

Peace,

Pastor Chad