PEOPLE'S CHURCH OF DOVER

Romans 8:26-27                                                                      How Does Prayer Work?

Sermon July 27, 2008:  People's United Church of Christ, Dover, DE:  The Rev. Dan Griggs

 

            During the Civil War there was a joke about Abraham Lincoln—even Lincoln himself enjoyed it.  It seems two Quaker women were talking about the qualities of President Lincoln and President Davis.  "I think Jefferson Davis will succeed because he is a praying man," said the first woman.  The other woman replied, "But Abraham Lincoln is a praying man, too!"  "Yes," rejoined the first, "but the Lord will think that Abraham is joking."[1] 

            How does God know you aren't joking when you pray?  Are there some special techniques in a good prayer?  Are there certain words that have to be included in a good prayer?  How does prayer work? 

 

            The First Lesson today contains one of the best explanations I know for how prayer works, but Paul's language is complicated.  Is prayer this complicated?  And if it is, how can any of us pray well?

            Paul begins by talking about the Holy Spirit coming to help our weakness in praying.  What weakness is that?  It might be our poor technique or our weak feelings as we pray; but I don't think that's what Paul is talking about.  In the verses just before this he had been discussing how Christians are waiting for "the revealing of the children of God," and this waiting is difficult; so, he says:[2] 

 

 

And more--he says:

 

The whole creation groans to be set free from its bondage to decay

 

in that redemption we await.  What's he talking about?  He's describing the way the world is!  Our "weakness" isn't our inability to say our prayers, and it isn't our poor technique:  it's the fact that we are powerless against so much that assaults us in this world—the realm of evil, expressed in power politics, taxes, war, diseases like cancer and AIDS, human crises like divorce, family conflict, financial reverses, and the myriad of problems we face due to somebody's overweening pride or selfish greed.  The whole creation "groans" in sorrow for the way the world is trapped in sin and death.  This is "our weakness" which the Spirit of God comes to our aid about.  Then Paul explains it further:

 

 

or, as the New Revised Standard Version has it, "we don't know how to pray as we ought."  What is "pressing" is the present situation:  our lack of insight into God's will about this moment right now. 

            God's will has several levels, like a building with three or four sub-basements.  The ground floor of God's will is known to everybody in the world, not by special revelation but by common sense, by the way things work best in society:  murder is wrong, lying is wrong, adultery is wrong, theft is wrong—everybody with a healthy mind already knows God's will about these things.  That's the ground floor of God's will.  The first basement is also visible through the windows of wisdom, so that the religions of  all nations teach this level of the will of God:  that there is a God, that without God we are helpless against the natural and social forces of the world, and that it's better to seek God than to seek our selfish ways.  This, too, is the will of God; and it is taught universally, by every shaman, every guru, every priest, every philosopher until Modern times.  That's the first basement.  But the second basement of God's will is revealed in Scripture:  the "eternal purpose of God in Christ Jesus" is the redemption of all things, and for this great love:

 

 

This is the point of the Bible:  God's redeeming love for us and for the whole creation.  And it's for this will of God that we groan inwardly—that all creation groans for, because of the way the world is.  And, of course, the third basement of God's will, is God's will for me in my life and for the present situation:  this deepest will of God is a secret known only to God alone, and revealed to me only as I live through it with eyes for invisibles.  To pray about this we need eyes to see and ears to hear and a heart of understanding. 

            So I know how to pray "Your kingdom come," which is the redemption of all things; but how do I pray "Your will be done in my life"—about what's going to happen this afternoon?  Or if I am facing a financial crisis, what should I pray for?  To hit the lottery?  To get a better job?  To achieve a grace period to pay what I owe?  What ought I to pray for? 

            In the spring Harriet's mother, Nell, willingly sold her house and moved to an assisted living home—she already knew everybody there anyway.  She had been able to stay in her house only because Harriet's brother was there to monitor her health; and he died in December.  So she moved.  Over the months since she moved, we've been getting phone calls about health problems she has had:  she fell, she seemed confused at lunch one day and they took her to the hospital, she went to visit her sister in Illinois and didn't recognize where she was.  For the past two weeks she has been having tests to determine if her most recent memory lapses were related to an infection or are the beginning of Alzheimer's Disease.  What should we pray for about Nell?  We want to pray that she would get well and have more years of good health and happiness.  There are some other kinds of prayers that we don't want to even think about praying.  So we groan inwardly for the redemption of this worsening situation, and we don't know what to expect when we get to Shelbyville, Tennessee next week.  So how do we pray about it?  "We do not know what we are supposed to pray for in so far as what is pressing." 

            I wrote this poem several years ago about making a pastoral visit to a family after a death.

 

I go to the house with the black wreath on the door,

to sit for an hour and mourn with those within.

They who weep most deeply weep silently, and I know it.

I leave them with a prayer, well formed:

But I know it is empty form, and they know.

It is enough simply to pray.    

 

"We do not know what we are supposed to pray for in so far as what is pressing," Paul wrote.

            There's a young man who will be graduating from high school next June, and he is already applying to colleges.  November comes around and four universities accept him, and all four offer financial aid.  Which one should he attend?  He can't know what kinds of problems he may encounter in the dorm, or what kinds of opportunities one school may offer and another not offer.  How ought he to pray?  "We do not know what we are supposed to pray for in so far as what is pressing." 

 

            So I ask my question:  How does prayer work?  First, let's think about how prayer does not work.  Prayer doesn't work because I know a secret technique to strong-arm God or seduce God or bargain with God  into doing what I wish.  Prayer doesn't work because I ask for the right thing:  in many situations in life I don't know the right thing.  Prayer doesn't work because I am perfect—that would reward overweening pride and congratulate sin.  And prayer doesn't work because God has already planned everything out that's going to happen, and just wants some attention from us humans in the form of asking.  No.  And prayer doesn't work because it contains some kind of hidden magic.  And prayer doesn't work because someone I consider a saint or close to it  prays for me, and she has magical power.  None of these can explain prayer, and none of these can explain why sometimes God says "Yes," and sometimes God says "No," and sometimes God says "Wait awhile." 

            There's something deeper going on in prayer—something more central to who I am, than magic and right technique and guessing the right thing to pray for. 

            How does prayer work?  I believe prayer works because the Holy Spirit hears and intercedes:  searches my inmost self and reveals to God and to me where my heart is.  I believe prayer works simply because God cares about me.  I believe prayer works because by praying, sometimes by praying for many weeks or years, I myself am changed to conform to the perfect will of God.  I believe prayer works because God has already provided for us all that we need for life and the challenges that can make us better persons, because our strivings are part of the groaning of all creation for redemption, the complete plan of God. 

 

            How does prayer work?  Prayer works because the Spirit of God makes it prayer, and God hears every prayer.  But prayer isn't just asking and receiving:  prayer is more like a conversation.  I reach out to God with my inner being, and in this conversation with God I am changed and made more like Jesus Christ, whose greatest prayer was "Your will be done."  IS God's will done?  Yes, God's will does get done—sometimes soon, sometimes eventually, sometimes in the Kingdom.  But by prayer I become a part of God's eternal purpose, a participant in bringing the Kingdom closer, a co-worker with God in the redemption of all things—even if sometimes my prayers only seem to be unintelligible groans:  God hears and knows.  This is how prayer works. 

AMEN