Sometimes a statement is made or an event occurs which triggers an echo in my brain that just won't go away; days later, it is still bouncing around inside my head, causing all sorts of psychic (or psychotic) side effects which generally lead either to madness or a blog post, whichever comes first.
In this case, it was a statement made at church which sparked a line of thinking in my brain.
A statement about the Power of Prayer.
In general, among Christians one expects to find a belief in the power of prayer, but there is an interesting diversity in the nature of that belief. For some, prayer is a way of asking God to intervene in our lives; for others, it is a way to ask God to align our lives with His will.
When the minister stood before the congregation on Sunday morning and pointed out the little girl who had been undergoing chemotherapy and radiation, and said that her presence there was evidence of the Power of Prayer, I felt a sudden and irrational rush of anger.
Was that really what we'd been praying for?
When her parents first discovered the nature of her illness, did they pray that she would undergo delicate surgeries to remove the tumors from her brain, and then undergo painful and nauseating treatments for several months in order to eradicate the disease? Or did they beg God to suddenly and miraculously remove it completely?
When they prayed, did they ask that God "guide the hands of the doctors" who would be peeling back her skin and cutting through her skull and inserting sharp instruments to dig out the malfunctioning cells in order to reduce the damage to a minimum - or did they ask him to just make it disappear so that their precious little girl wouldn't have to endure the pain and misery?
And what about all those little girls (and boys) who weren't there - the ones who had died?
In that company of congregants on that Sunday, there were doubtless others who had prayed for their own cancer-stricken loved ones and received very different answers. There were those who had prayed and received a "miracle", only to find out later that the cancer had returned, and this time, for keeps. There were those who had spent hours on their knees in prayer, to no avail. Because God said No and their child died.
Were their prayers somehow not as good as others?
Can we point to the body of their loved one in the coffin and claim that, too, as evidence of the Power of Prayer?
Can we point to the broken body trapped in the wreckage of the car and claim that as evidence of the Power of Prayer when the parents were praying so fervently for the safety of their teen-aged child?
Can we point to the pile of burning debris that was once an airplane and claim that as evidence of the Power of Prayer, knowing that only hours ago, some families were gathered at the airport and praying for each other's safety?
There is a scene in the 1997 movie, "I Am Legend", which continues to reverberate in my brain, all these years later. The family of the protaganist is preparing to leave New York due to the plague. The city is about to be barricaded so that no one will be able to leave. The father (Will Smith), who must stay to find a cure for the disease, prays with his wife and children before they are about to fly off in the helicopter. "God, keep my family safe," he says. It is a tearful, emotional, spiritual moment. The wife and children get in the helicopter and it lifts off. They are headed to safety. And then, just as it is about to clear the area, another helicopter slams into it, killing everyone. The father stands and watches his family die right before his eyes, only moments after begging the Lord of the Universe to Keep Them Safe.
The answer to his fervent prayer is an immediate and forceful "No".
For the purpose of that narrative, it was necessary to set up a spiritual crisis for the character (which, incidentally, I don't think was ever resolved).
What about our own narrative?
Every day, something happens in the world that creates a spiritual crisis for Christians.
Floods, famines, hurricanes, tornadoes, aircraft accidents, automobile wrecks, murders. Disease. Cancer.
We live in a fallen world, and good people suffer and die every day. People who pray. And people who are being prayed for.
So what are we thinking when we pray? And what do we expect for an answer? And how do we respond when we don't get the answer we want? Or if, instead, we get the exact opposite?
The little children I teach every Sunday know that God is no Santa Claus. They know that he doesn't answer each of their prayers the way they'd like. They didn't get the toy they wanted; the bullies on the playground are still mean; Mommy and Daddy still won't let them have a puppy; or, worse, Mommy and Daddy are still divorced.
So when the minister shouted out to the congregation to take a look at the bald, emaciated little girl with the huge scar on her head (and the family with near-infinite medical bills) as evidence of the Power of Prayer, I wanted to jump up and shout, What about all the others? What about all the people we prayed for who died? What about all the families that are still broken, whose children have been wearing out their knees trying to get God to put things back together? What do you say to them about the Power of Prayer?
Of course, I didn't jump up. I didn't shout. But I certainly thought loudly in my head.
Where is the miracle in a process which, when properly applied, produces expected results? Is it a miracle that my car engine runs when I put gasoline in the tank and apply a spark in the cylinder? Is it a miracle that an airplane flies when the wing pushes through the air with sufficient velocity to generate lift? Is it a miracle that cancerous cells die off when bombarded with radiation and toxic chemicals?
Perhaps it would've been more appropriate for the minister to point to the child and say, Thank God it was His will that she live. Or, Thank God that, this time, our desires lined up with His. Now we only have to wonder, Why did He allow her to live? What is her purpose here on earth?
Years ago, I read a book that defined prayer as a mechanism not for turning God to our will, but for turning ourselves to His. That is, our job is not to try to convince God to do what we want; our job is to accept the things that happen (specifically the ones over which we have no control) and try to discern how God wants us to respond. The author's point was to show that we, above all others, should be showing compassion and love to the hurting, and bring hope to the hopeless by reminding them that this world is not the end, but merely a portal to the beginning. And so we should not worry about the prayers which go unanswered, or those for which the answer is a resounding "No".
Yet Mark 11:24 says: "Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours." And Matthew 21:22 says: "If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer."
My question to you is - what is your view on prayer? What kinds of things do you pray about? What limits do you put on your expectations? How do you deal with prayers that are unanswered or outright rejected? What do you teach your children about prayer?
And what does it mean to you to "wrestle in prayer" with God?
In this case, it was a statement made at church which sparked a line of thinking in my brain.
A statement about the Power of Prayer.
In general, among Christians one expects to find a belief in the power of prayer, but there is an interesting diversity in the nature of that belief. For some, prayer is a way of asking God to intervene in our lives; for others, it is a way to ask God to align our lives with His will.
When the minister stood before the congregation on Sunday morning and pointed out the little girl who had been undergoing chemotherapy and radiation, and said that her presence there was evidence of the Power of Prayer, I felt a sudden and irrational rush of anger.
Was that really what we'd been praying for?
When her parents first discovered the nature of her illness, did they pray that she would undergo delicate surgeries to remove the tumors from her brain, and then undergo painful and nauseating treatments for several months in order to eradicate the disease? Or did they beg God to suddenly and miraculously remove it completely?
When they prayed, did they ask that God "guide the hands of the doctors" who would be peeling back her skin and cutting through her skull and inserting sharp instruments to dig out the malfunctioning cells in order to reduce the damage to a minimum - or did they ask him to just make it disappear so that their precious little girl wouldn't have to endure the pain and misery?
And what about all those little girls (and boys) who weren't there - the ones who had died?
In that company of congregants on that Sunday, there were doubtless others who had prayed for their own cancer-stricken loved ones and received very different answers. There were those who had prayed and received a "miracle", only to find out later that the cancer had returned, and this time, for keeps. There were those who had spent hours on their knees in prayer, to no avail. Because God said No and their child died.
Were their prayers somehow not as good as others?
Can we point to the body of their loved one in the coffin and claim that, too, as evidence of the Power of Prayer?
Can we point to the broken body trapped in the wreckage of the car and claim that as evidence of the Power of Prayer when the parents were praying so fervently for the safety of their teen-aged child?
Can we point to the pile of burning debris that was once an airplane and claim that as evidence of the Power of Prayer, knowing that only hours ago, some families were gathered at the airport and praying for each other's safety?
There is a scene in the 1997 movie, "I Am Legend", which continues to reverberate in my brain, all these years later. The family of the protaganist is preparing to leave New York due to the plague. The city is about to be barricaded so that no one will be able to leave. The father (Will Smith), who must stay to find a cure for the disease, prays with his wife and children before they are about to fly off in the helicopter. "God, keep my family safe," he says. It is a tearful, emotional, spiritual moment. The wife and children get in the helicopter and it lifts off. They are headed to safety. And then, just as it is about to clear the area, another helicopter slams into it, killing everyone. The father stands and watches his family die right before his eyes, only moments after begging the Lord of the Universe to Keep Them Safe.
The answer to his fervent prayer is an immediate and forceful "No".
For the purpose of that narrative, it was necessary to set up a spiritual crisis for the character (which, incidentally, I don't think was ever resolved).
What about our own narrative?
Every day, something happens in the world that creates a spiritual crisis for Christians.
Floods, famines, hurricanes, tornadoes, aircraft accidents, automobile wrecks, murders. Disease. Cancer.
We live in a fallen world, and good people suffer and die every day. People who pray. And people who are being prayed for.
So what are we thinking when we pray? And what do we expect for an answer? And how do we respond when we don't get the answer we want? Or if, instead, we get the exact opposite?
The little children I teach every Sunday know that God is no Santa Claus. They know that he doesn't answer each of their prayers the way they'd like. They didn't get the toy they wanted; the bullies on the playground are still mean; Mommy and Daddy still won't let them have a puppy; or, worse, Mommy and Daddy are still divorced.
So when the minister shouted out to the congregation to take a look at the bald, emaciated little girl with the huge scar on her head (and the family with near-infinite medical bills) as evidence of the Power of Prayer, I wanted to jump up and shout, What about all the others? What about all the people we prayed for who died? What about all the families that are still broken, whose children have been wearing out their knees trying to get God to put things back together? What do you say to them about the Power of Prayer?
Of course, I didn't jump up. I didn't shout. But I certainly thought loudly in my head.
Where is the miracle in a process which, when properly applied, produces expected results? Is it a miracle that my car engine runs when I put gasoline in the tank and apply a spark in the cylinder? Is it a miracle that an airplane flies when the wing pushes through the air with sufficient velocity to generate lift? Is it a miracle that cancerous cells die off when bombarded with radiation and toxic chemicals?
Perhaps it would've been more appropriate for the minister to point to the child and say, Thank God it was His will that she live. Or, Thank God that, this time, our desires lined up with His. Now we only have to wonder, Why did He allow her to live? What is her purpose here on earth?
Years ago, I read a book that defined prayer as a mechanism not for turning God to our will, but for turning ourselves to His. That is, our job is not to try to convince God to do what we want; our job is to accept the things that happen (specifically the ones over which we have no control) and try to discern how God wants us to respond. The author's point was to show that we, above all others, should be showing compassion and love to the hurting, and bring hope to the hopeless by reminding them that this world is not the end, but merely a portal to the beginning. And so we should not worry about the prayers which go unanswered, or those for which the answer is a resounding "No".
Yet Mark 11:24 says: "Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours." And Matthew 21:22 says: "If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer."
My question to you is - what is your view on prayer? What kinds of things do you pray about? What limits do you put on your expectations? How do you deal with prayers that are unanswered or outright rejected? What do you teach your children about prayer?
And what does it mean to you to "wrestle in prayer" with God?
2 comments:
I have the exact same thoughts and questions. No answers.
Thank you for an excellent read!
I had the same question when I was younger.
Wasn't Jesus sincere when he said that everything we ask for in his name we shall receive? (John 14:14)
Furthermore since God is omnibenevolent prayer kind of seem arbitrary. Afterall He knows what we're going to pray for before we are even born. Is prayer then only meant to give thanks?
That's certainly not what Jesus said.
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