Where do prayers take us?

Where do prayers take us?

Sometimes I don’t know where a prayer is going to lead, and that’s a good thing. Too often prayers are used, especially by us professional pray-ers, to try to harness the power of the Holy Spirit (who is female in the Hebrew language, ruach, “breath,” “wind”). In reality, She empowers us and blows us wherever She chooses. I’ve never been sucked up by a tornado or hurled through the air in a hurricane, but I have been up-ended in the ocean by the undertow and seen huge trees that were snapped in two like matchsticks by a windstorm. Believe you me, the Holy Spirit is the driving force in praying.

It’s very tempting, however, to treat prayer like a party trick that we bring out, particularly on Sunday mornings when we have a captive audience, to engage the crowd and show off. Or to play at prayer as though it’s a Ouija board, fooling ourselves that it’s the Spirit moving when in fact it’s our own divining rods at work.

How do we keep from trying to be a mover, and open ourselves to be moved by prayer? My worship professor taught us to stay away from “musty lettuce,” that is, sentences that start “We must …” or “Let us …” It’s not our job to tell God what we must do or, even more twisted, what God needs to let us do. I also avoid sentences beginning, “We just want to …”

Words are the building blocks of prayers, but words are just as likely to block prayers. In group prayers of confession I don’t “should” on people, that is, shame them or blame them. Our tendency to shame and blame—to play the judge—is something I believe we need to confess rather than practice. Confessions are not all about “sins.” Instead, we are to confess our whole selves to God: our joys as well as our sadnesses, our proud moments as well as embarrassing episodes, courage as well as fear, peace as well as anger. And anger isn’t bad; how we choose to express anger, which is a natural feeling, can be healthy or unhealthy. Internalized anger—unspoken, repressed—often leads to depression or triggers dis-ease, while acting out in anger is abuse and violence. Healthy ways of dealing with anger include crying, singing, shouting up at the sky, physical exercise, punching a pillow, journaling, praying, and meditation. “Sin” isn’t merely doing bad things or not doing good things; it’s “missing the mark” or “separating from God,” which is more about where we position ourselves in relation to God, where we find ourselves spiritually.

Our Heavenly Creator,

we are sorry for misusing your name.

We confess we don’t always get your kingdom,

much less believe it’s coming.

We can’t imagine your will as it is in heaven,

let alone being done on earth.

We take way more than our share—

truth be told, we throw away more than our share—

day after day, leaving many in the world with nothing.

We would rather forget our debts and go after our debtors.

If we’re honest, our petitions to be saved from the time of trial

and to be delivered from evil—they ring hollow.

Move us out of our comfort zones

to take in, dear God, your wisdom.

Give us over to your power.

Turn us to reflect your glory.

Amen.

As a recovering racist I challenge myself to use “black” and “white” or “dark” and “light” to describe rather than discriminate. With all due respect to the gospel of John which is chock full of light and dark imagery, I believe (as does the Song of Songs) that black is beautiful. White is traditionally used, not surprisingly by white people, to designate purity or newness; white people have also been known to whitewash history to their advantage or invent white lies that don’t get them in trouble with the (white) powers that be. Jesus is said to be the Light of the world but who wants a fair-weather savior? I need Jesus, who was a person of color, to be with me in the middle of the night whether I’m feeling anxious or at peace. One of my most cleansing experiences happened while receiving Holy Communion in the dark basement of a bar in north Minneapolis, after having been blind-sided by a white knight in shining armor.

Dear Maker of the Dark and of the Light,

of the evening and of the morning,

each day since the first day,

we thank you for the darkness of waiting,

of not knowing what is to come,

of staying ready and quiet and attentive.

May we treat the darkness as a friend,

a mystery not to be solved

but to be amazed in.

May we become aware of you

in what we don’t see

deep in our hearts

without fear.

Amen.

Too often we institutional pray-ers employ only male experiences in worship and ignore female experiences which tend to be the polar opposite. For example, men may suffer from having too much pride, but women suffer from low self-esteem or not enough pride and thus need to be encouraged to love themselves and express their needs and wants, at least to God. Likewise, women may suffer from doing too much for others—especially the males in their lives—whereas men need to be encouraged to love themselves and take care of their needs and wants which they usually rely on women to take care of.

Dear God, as we look around,

help us notice what really matters to you:

As we look down, careful about where we step,

help us tread lightly on your good earth:

Dear Jesus, as we look out,

help us see beyond our wildest imaginations:

Help us look out for ourselves:

Help us look out for the least among us:

Help us look outside our own world view

to consider the worlds other people live in:

O Holy Spirit, as we look up,

raise our spirits to love kindness,

do justice,

and walk humbly—with our heads held high—

with God each and every day.

Amen.

While it’s important not to assume everybody shares the same experiences, it is divinely imperative to use inclusive language. The first commandment—Thou shalt have no other gods before me—forbids what I call “Heism,” worshiping exclusively-male images. Be both theologically-correct and anatomically-comprehensive when referring to humanity (women and men, boys and girls, people of all genders, remembering there are more than two genders) and God (in whose image we are each created and who is portrayed in the Bible as a Mother as well as a Daddy) and Jesus Christ (who as an earthly male had an unabashedly feminine side and who as the Risen One is holy transgender) and the Holy Spirit Ruach. The Good Book uses lots of female and male imagery; the Hebrew language is full of euphemisms and word plays and humor; and Jesus was constantly being tested by people’s strictures and responded by opening up the scriptures, thus turning people’s words and worlds upside down. When it comes to prayer, the sky’s the limit, literally and literarily.