submitted by Russell Post
With the Missional Emphasis on prayer for 2005, exploring the power and purposes of prayer has been foremost in our congregational mind this year. Over the last month, personal experiences have reinforced for me the extraordinary power of one particular type of prayer, which we celebrate each week in the liturgy – the Prayers of the People.
The Prayers of the People are an ancient part of Christian worship, and the Lutheran liturgy honors that tradition in recommending prayers for the Whole Church, the Nations, the Parish, Special Concerns, and Those In Need. Mark Twain famously captured one perspective on the prayers (one with which I may have sympathized in my younger days) in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer:
The boy whose history this book relates did not enjoy the prayer, he only endured it – if he even did that much. He was restive all through it; he kept tally of the details of the prayer unconsciously – for he was not listening, but he knew the ground of old, and the clergyman’s regular route over it – and when a little trifle of new matter was interlarded, his ear detected it and his whole nature resented it; he considered additions unfair, and scoundrelly.
In addition to the irrepressible impatience of adolescence, Tom’s reaction to the prayers reflects an understanding of prayer as essentially passive – the congregation prays to God for intercession on behalf of others, but is not touched by the prayers itself. I suspect that we are all susceptible to that distance, from time to time, but recent events have given me a different perspective which I hope will add to our congregational dialogue on prayer. As a result of a recent accident in which I suffered serious injuries – but thankfully, escaped potentially catastrophic injury – I have been graced by an outpouring of prayer. I want to share with you three aspects of that experience.
First, although it is natural to think of a prayer for healing as an intercession with God – asking for God’s healing grace on another – that is only part of the story. The other part, which the congregation rarely sees directly, is the blessing that the act of praying itself communicates to the one who is the object of such prayers. In the days after my accident, I was told by countless friends and family that I was being remembered in their prayers. These friends and family have carried me in their hearts to their own congregations – meaning that in addition to Christ the King, many congregations I have never visited and hundreds of people I have never met (some at great distances) have been praying for me. Like hundreds of loving embraces, my family and I have been wrapped in prayer.
Some of these prayers were exquisitely poetic; one Bible study group prayed that God would knit my bones together, recalling Psalm 139 (“For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.”) and Job 10 (“You clothed me with skin and flesh, and knit me together with bones and sinews.”) Others were simple, as with the neighbors who told Stephanie and me, upon returning home from the hospital, that their three young sons had been including me in their nightly prayers at bedtime. Most of them, I have not even heard – but I have been touched by all of them.
The experience of being blessed by all these prayers has been moving and humbling; it is difficult to convey fully the feeling of knowing that one is the object of so many prayers. That blessing was conveyed with graceful simplicity by the cards I received from our own ministry staff and morning prayer group, stating only “We prayed for you today.” All those prayers are directed to God, but the knowledge of them is itself a priceless gift. It is incredibly empowering to know one has been graced by so much heartfelt goodwill. Of course, my experience is not unique – many of you have had the same experience – but it has powerfully illustrated to me the personal connections that accompany prayer. Prayer is not passive; it is a profoundly active and personal ministry.
Second, I have been powerfully struck this month by the ecumenical power of prayer – particularly the Prayers of the People. One of the striking aspects of my experience has been the knowledge that I was being lifted up in Lutheran churches, Episcopal churches, Catholic churches, Methodist churches, Baptist churches, non-denominational churches. When the congregation of Christ the King has prayed for me and my family this month, you have joined your prayers with those of brothers and sisters from every denomination. However our congregations may differ in theology and temperament, and however our liturgies may vary, in the Prayers of the People we are all united in a common prayer.
This experience brings into a different perspective Christ’s promise, “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” (Matthew 18:20) In the prayers, all these people – some of whom know me well, and many of whom know me not at all – have gathered in His name, creating an unseen communion. There may be no aspect of the Christian experience that knits us together more than our prayers for each other. Once again, that lesson underscores that the Prayers of the People are not a passive appeal to God – they are an active opportunity to join in the communion of saints.
Third, perhaps the most unappreciated (but beautiful) aspect of the Prayers of the People is that the congregation often does not know why it is praying. Those of us who serve as assisting ministers are often reminded of this fact by Pastor Moore, who emphasizes that our prayers should not be laments because we do not always know why we are praying. It is tempting to assume that everyone whose name appears in the Prayers of the People is undergoing a period of crisis; although that is often the case, it is not universally true. My own experience has confirmed that insight. Last spring, my father underwent tests that revealed a potentially advanced cancerous condition; his name was placed on the prayer list of our congregation and many others. I was at his side in the hospital awaiting test results when, late Saturday evening, we learned that his condition was not cancerous. In the midst of our celebration, I realized that the many congregations who would pray for him on Sunday morning would not yet know the good news; they did not realize it, but the prayers all those congregations lifted up that day were not prayers of concern – they were prayers of thanksgiving!
My own experience this month has reinforced that lesson. Although my injuries were significant, they were not life-threatening and my daughter, Audrey, was unharmed. Knowing full well that our accident easily could have been fatal or crippling, my reaction has been to celebrate our good fortune and to give thanks for the gift of life. I am hurt, but much more important, I am blessed.
As a result, when I learn that friends, families, and other congregations are praying for us, my fervent wish is that they know their prayers are not simply prayers for healing; whether they know it or not, they also are joining my family in prayers of thanksgiving. Life is rarely black-and-white, even in moments of crisis, and the Prayers of the People unite us with those for whom we pray in the full richness of life – sharing not only their concern and their pain, but also their joy and their thanksgiving for God’s blessings.
The common denominator among all these aspects of the Prayers of the People is unity. The prayers are not passive; they are an active affirmation of our unity as God’s people – they unite us with those for whom we pray, they unite us with the countless others who share the same prayer, and they unite us in the richness of life. My prayer, for all those who have lifted up their concerns for me, is that you may know your prayers unite you with me and countless others in celebrating the blessings God has given us all – and that each week, when we kneel for the Prayers of the People, we all may know we are not simply praying for those we remember in the prayers, but we are praying with them in a shared communion. Our congregation affirms that union each week with the sending of the Lay Eucharistic Ministers, pledging that in the Eucharist “we who are many are one.” I believe that affirmation of unity is equally true for the Prayers of the People.