Prayers of a Feather

Prayer is an important part of most religious traditions. To cut to my real point here, I'm irritated with how most Christians have come to understand prayer. How we pray to God says a great deal about how we understand God, and the formal group prayer model leaves much to be desired. We would never consider talking to one another in choral form, both because it indicates what we're saying is incredibly scripted and because, frankly, it would be painfully annoying. Find an example in scripture where Jesus sits down and prays with people as a group. In the Gospels, prayer seems to be something done in private. Whether in the form of a parable where a tax collector begs for forgiveness (Luke 18:9-14), times where Jesus himself goes off to pray such as in Gethsemane, or in the explicit instructions given by Jesus regarding prayer:

"But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him." - Matthew 6:6-8

We are instructed to pray continuously (1 Thessalonians, 5:17), but that order seems meaningless if it means we are to stand silently as someone else prays in our stead, or carry around a lengthy tome of prayers to be read in unison. The whole point of prayer is to communicate with God. In prayer we speak to our parents about how things are going in school, or what difficult decision we are about to make in life. Choral performances are for audiences, not for personal conversations. Audiences do not respond to the content of the words, nor can they provide meaningful feedback. The words are not personal in a choral endeavor, or in one person praying on behalf of a group. A speaker is designated in a political forum, not in a family. By praying in this way, we sacrifice personal communication and our relationship with God in the hopes that generic things said "correctly" will have more impact. It feeds our fear by allowing us to avoid the divine. It transforms God into a politician watching a play rather than a parent watching a child play.

Prayer should be, as Jesus instructs us, a private and personal interaction. An honest moment for us to communicate with God to request something of importance, seek wisdom, or simply continue our relationship. Praying together can do none of these things. There is power in prayer, and there is great power in a great many people praying for the same thing, but they must each pray it for themselves.

A Humble Need to Breathe

Before I begin, let me note that this post is more personal in nature rather than explicitly theological. My experience may be valid for others, but if you are looking for an academic argument, you'll need to look elsewhere.

You know how you don't need to think about breathing to keep doing it? And for the most part we don't think about breathing until we're having trouble doing it? Well I've had (metaphorical) trouble breathing as of late, and I desperately needed to find out why.

Since middle school, I knew that someday I would end up going to seminary and becoming a pastor. The feeling I had was that there were other things I needed to do first. The really funny thing is that ever since I left the natural course of becoming a minister, it has felt as though my life is slowly falling apart. Going to college was fine because I needed a bachelor's to get into a Masters of Divinity program anyways, and given that I majored in Religion, nothing was out of place. At least not until Senior year. I realize now that my real internal struggles started when I failed to apply for my graduate studies right then.

Instead, I started working. I needed a break from academia, and I needed to make sure I was in a position to keep a steady income flowing while my wife entered grad school. Now, eighteen months out, gainfully employed with good benefits and well on my way to paying off debts, everything is wrong. I spent eight years with a flooded scheduling, worry about classes, homework, two jobs at a time, multiple organizations and volunteering, and I rarely if ever felt stressed. Now, with one full time job and no other meaningful obligations, and have developed a medical disorder related directly to stress. The problem I knew full well: I'm not doing what I need to be doing. The more difficult question to answer what I was supposed to be doing.

I briefly considered doing an evening MDiv program, but as my decent job became more and more unbearable, I realized I needed something with more volume. While visiting some friends I casually mentioned that I had considered entering seminary, and was flabbergasted at the response. Everyone present, including some very nonreligious individuals, supported the idea, saying it would be a perfect opportunity for me. It was at that point that everything really clicked in my head.

I had been waiting for a dramatic call, something sudden and supernatural. The problem is that my call never sounded like this. I was designed for this end. Like breathing, my ministerial calling was so natural that it never registered as the distinct call I was looking for. Instead, it was not until I stopped moving in that direction that I realized where I needed to be. Having a good job, opportunities for advancement, solid benefits and plenty of free time were killing me. The problem isn't that these are bad things, but that they weren't for me. I apparently have an allergy to having a normal life. Thus, I stopped breathing.

I write this having just finished my first step in applying to seminary. While my job continues to stress me out, and the rest of my life has not miraculously put itself back together yet, there is a sudden peace in my mind regarding the future. Having found myself in violation of assuming to know the mind of God, I have returned to humbly ask for forgiveness and for a full breath once again.