On Prayer (and Why I Just Don't "Get" It)

The Connect4 class at First Baptist Memphis is using Richard Foster's book, Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth, as our Sunday School literature.  The book is a study of classic spiritual disciplines and Foster lists twelve of them.  We discussed prayer this week.

I should start with a confession: prayer is not something with which I am entirely comfortable.  I don't understand it.  I don't understand what it is or how it works or how to do it, but I certainly understand why it is so important for most people.  In fact, it would be just as important for me, I'm sure, if I could only figure out what the hell it is.  But I just don't "get" prayer, a confession to which Greer replied with both grace and jest (a rare combination): "That's okay, we'll pray for you!"

Don't get me wrong; I can write and deliver a pretty good prayer.  I understand the "outs" of prayer, but not so much the "ins."  I've studied theology and understand how to make the words of prayer consistent with the thoughts of our best theologians.  I've also heard enough good prayers to know how to construct a prayer and what to say.  And I've heard enough bad prayers to know what not to say.

Now, I should also add that I have my own definition of prayer (in the spirit of Keith Green's "Make My Life A Prayer To You" or Joy Electric's cover) and I do that just fine.  I consider my re-definition of the word an attempt to re-claim it, the way feminists and African-Americans and others have re-claimed certain words.  Foster actually has a book called Prayer: Finding the Heart's True Home that covers 21 different types of prayer and I'm okay with almost all of them.

The problem with this, however, is that I don't always feel that I am speaking the same language as other Christians.  For example, most people understand prayer as some kind of communication with God.  At its most basic, this means asking God for stuff.  But it also includes a quiet and stillness that listens.  And I am not sure what to do with any of this.

I'm not comfortable asking God for stuff because I'm not comfortable with a God from whom I can ask for stuff.  Such an understanding of God, although quite biblical, makes God like a person, complete with agency and being (or Being).  But I'm not quite sure God is really like that, heretical though I may be.

The bigger problem for me is that I'm really not comfortable placing thinking that God answers (or doesn't answer) prayer.  I'm uncomfortable with a God who has the power to cure Cancer and AIDS and Alzeihmer's...but doesn't.  I'm uncomfortable with a God who has the ability to stop the destruction that is Haiti or Katrina or 9/11...but doesn't.

I'm just not okay with God saying, "No, I think it is better that Vicki suffer and die of cancer" or "You know, it's okay that all those folks in Haiti, who were already suffereing from poverty, are dying."

That's just not the kind of God I want anything to do with.

But that's also the reason I'm not comfortable with prayer, as it is most commonly defined.

Still I am greatful to be a part of a people of prayer, those for whom my problems aren't problems.  I'm also glad to be a part of a group who responded to my confession that I don't "get" prayer with: "That's okay, we'll prayer for you!"

And, for them, I say: "Thanks be to God!"

A Missions State of Mind, Part One

I was invited to speak to the Religion 101 class this week.

Now, I remember when the class was founded, back when we were in Memphis before, and it has always been an interesting and intriguing class, somewhat of a renegade class.  This may or may not have been their purpose, but I have always seen them as a group who just said, "The heck with how it's always been done!  We're gonna do it our way!"  In other words, I'm not sure there's a more Baptist (truly Baptist) class around.

Churches oftentimes like to divide folks into neat categories according to age, marital status, etc.  Well, what happens to all the folks who don't fit those categories?  Religion 101 came to their rescue, saving them from all the weird looks and uneasy conversations.  Religion 101 provided a home for the homeless within the church.  And I've always respected that.

Churches also like to dictate what will be taught in their neatly organized classes.  It's long been custom to order some curriculum written by someone no one has even met, which isn't to say it's bad (far from it), and hope for the best.  Well, what happens when folks get tired of the literature, when all the quarterlies start running together?  Religion 101 came to break the mold, saving people from the monotony of the status quo.  Religion 101 announced that we don't need anyone to tell us what or how to study.  And I've always respected that.

And so I was honored to receive the invitation to speak with the class about missions, the topic they've been discussing for the past several weeks.

My thoughts, which will be divided into two posts, follow the narrative of my life, as my understanding of missions has evolved slowly over time.

First, my understanding of missions derived from the children's programs at the church in which I grew up.  For me, as a male, that meant RAs (Royal Ambassadors).  The GAs (Girls in Action), though, did a much better job educating the females about missions and encouraging to find creative ministry projects.

My next step was Training Union and Discipleship Training programs.  Here, we were taught about the church and our responsibility within it.  Even as a teenager, we were expected to be active leaders and, therefore, were given responsibility.  TU and DT helped train us to fulfill such responsibilities, which included weekly visitation to visitors and prospects.

Still, missions revolved around telling folks about Jesus, until our youth group took a trip to New Orleans to paint some houses in a run-down part of town, worse than anywhere I'd ever been.  We split into teams, with each time painting half the day and working another project the other half.  My team worked at a homeless shelter, the first time I had actually met (and possibly even seen) a homeless person.

We went to Gatlinburg the next year and Savannah the next, working in trailer parks and housing projects, respectively.  These trips opened my eyes to another world, a world where telling folks about Jesus had to take a backseat to making sure folks had their daily bread.  And, back home, we started a few local projects, discovering that we didn't have to travel to find great need.

During college, I spent two summers with the Smoky Mountain Resort Ministries (SMRM) in the position of Innovator. It was my job to work a job and find creative ways to minister to the employees, then also serving alongside the other summer missionaries during my off time.  I worked at a go-cart track that had over 100 employees during the summer tourist season.  I worked alongside them, forming meaningful relationships and leading various activities for them.  Here, I learned how to do missions at work.

At SMRM, I also learned several ways to do missions in the community.  Several on our staff were blessed with musical talents and would play in downtown Gatlinburg a couple nights a week.  It was my job to talk to the folks who gathered around to listen, who often wondered who these folks were.  We also provided coffeehouses for teenagers, providing a safe space to those who really had nothing to do except get in trouble.

During my second summer, I also joined with a friend to start another ministry for the local arts community, welcoming and celebrating the gifts of a creative God.  These folks weren't religious, but that didn't matter, as we a fondness and an appreciation for each other grew.  We would visit their shops and bring them treats.  They would show us what they were working on and have us over for dinner.  These were folks the church didn't want, but they were our kind of people.  And they taught us a thing or two about God's love, even as we were trying to bring God's love to them.

After my time with SMRM, I began organizing concerts.  I had friends who were in bands and they had friends who were in bands (and so on).  They started looking to me for help finding gigs.  Since they were all church folk, even if from other churches, I immediately thought about this great space we had in our old sanctuary.  We were given the okay and I made up flyers.  With three days notice, we got 150 kids in.  So we started pushing for another.  Finally, they relented and, with a week notice, over 200 kids showed.

At this point, we thought we had something special going, something that could become semi-regular.  But the church had other ideas.  I don't know who made the final decision, because I was not privy to the conversation, but my contact told me we could not have any more concerts.  Here we were reaching kids who would never step a foot inside a church, kids with purple hair and tattoos and dog collars, but the church said it didn't want those kids.

Well, we said, "Screw it!  We don't need the church.  We can be the church without the building."  So we started looking around town for a building to rent that didn't required a deposit.  And the next show, with bands from three different states, pulled in over 300 kids.  It changed our understanding of missions.  And it changed our understanding of church.

***to be continued***

Going Deeper

Connect4 has begun a study of Richard Foster's book, Celebration of Discipline, about spiritual disciplines.  A week will be spent on each of the following:

• Inward
• Meditation
• Prayer
• Fasting
• Outward
• Simplicity
• Solitude
• Submission
• Service
• Coorporate
• Confession
• Worship
• Guidance
• Celebration

Last week, Carol and Greer introduced the book and the ideas behind the study.  Two quotes struck me.

First, there was a Tolstoy quote on the board that read: "Everybody thinks of changing humanity and nobody thinks of changing one's self."

The second quote was from Foster: "Superficiality is the great curse of our age."  And Greer responded by saying, "We need deep people, y'all!"

These were good quotes to kick off our study, for what do spiritual disciplines do if not make us deeper people and changed selves?

So, may we become deeper people and and changed selves together over the next several weeks.