What does it mean when we say our prayer shapes our belief (lex orandi, lex credendi=the law of praying is the law of believing)?
In liturgical traditions this has often been a central truth that is considered when changes are made to our rites or rituals (or prayer books). But, digging deeper, what does our own personal prayer life say about our believing?
If I had to answer that question honestly, I would say that my prayer life leans on the promises of scripture (when I say lean, I mean really leans heavily) in the sense that when I feel inadequate or wordless, I trust the Holy Spirit to fill in those spaces when I cannot.
I have often told others who struggle with prayer that there are many ways to pray and not all ways begin with "Dear God" and end with "Amen." That can be a liberating thought for many. Paul reminds us that we can pray without ceasing and I take that to mean that we can develop a holy posture: one that keeps God's will before us while remaining attuned and reflective of that which is going on around us.
Perhaps it is this posture that we need in Lent. A posture of listening, hearing, praying, pondering, and sharing from the deeper parts of who we are and who we hope to be. If we are honest, there is a tension that is always there, a tension between what is and what we want or hope for. It disturbs us, creates a longing, a nudge, a conviction, and sometimes leaves a quiet space for us to sit with. It is the fine line between action and inaction, prayer and silence, home and the horizon.
How might we pray in new ways in Lent to see how or if it affects our believing? Perhaps, more importantly, how might we pray differently so that the fruits of prayer may benefit not just ourselves but those we interact with and those we need to interact with?
Isaiah 55: 8-9: For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
God of homecoming, be with us as we journey through Lent. May we learn to relinquish our old ways so that we are ready to receive your newness. Amen.
Your blog reminded me of a passage in a book that I found after my amputation. “What is God’s Will For My Life” written by John Ortberg.
ReplyDeleteIt is in regard to the prayer that Jesus prayed in the garden.
“I don’t know why some prayers get yeses and some prayers get nos. I know the anguish of a no when you want a yes more than you want anything in the world. I don’t know why, I only know that in the Cross God’s no to his only Son was turned into God’s yes to every human being who ever lived”
So with these thoughts, I will keep praying because a no for me might mean a yes for many that I cannot conceive.
Please keep the blogs coming
Very powerful. Thank you for sharing.
DeleteI once heard a story about a man who was in the last days of his life. The preacher came to visit and the 2 men talked for a long time. The preacher couldn't help but notice an empty chair pulled up next to the man's bed. Eventually they spoke of it. The man told him his best friend came everyday and sat there to talk. He said they talked about everything and the man explained he was even at peace with the end of his life because of the conversations. The preacher stood after a bit and said his goodbyes but before he left he asked the man who was this friend who had been so present in the man's life and who had brought so much peace. The man said, "Oh, that's where Jesus sits."
ReplyDeleteNow, I must say I'm paraphrasing the story but one thing this story and experiences in my own life have taught me is all I have to do is talk. Out loud, in my heart... it doesn't matter. I can use fancy words or just plain Southern drawl. Jesus gets it all. This has brought me into a place where I feel much more comfortable when I pray. After all, I'm just having a chat with my best friend.
I like this! Thank you for sharing!
ReplyDelete