Prayer is a Work

Anyone who has ever heeded the privilege of prayer knows that it is work. It is work if it is more than giving God a laundry list of things you need. I can tell my kids all the things I want them to do, but that is not the sum and substance of parenting. It is a part, to be sure. But telling my kids to make their beds and keep their rooms picked up and to put their plates in the dishwasher is not parenting. It’s not much other than a transaction. The kind of prayer Jesus modeled for his followers is not one of transaction, but one of vulnerability and transformation.

Vulnerability in that he prayed in great anguish.

And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly (Luke 22.44; NIV)

Jesus’ default posture was one of turning to his Father. Whereas we are tempted to try and fix things when they go sideways, Jesus put his hands together. And he was earnestly doing work.

How many of us simply shame ourselves when it comes to prayer? How many times have I heard and uttered myself, “I know I need to pray more.” Let’s stop condemning our lack of prayer and simply try it. After all, we don’t do this in other areas of our lives. We don’t look in the mirror, see our hair unkempt and turn and go out the door. No. We preen and grease and comb until we get it right. We go to the salon and get the right shampoo and conditioner. We spends hundreds of dollars on coloring and cutting. (So glad I’m bald!)

So why such neglect when it comes to prayer?

Because it is a deeper work than combing hair. It requires us to go to a place of transparency and need. It is a work to unbuckle the armor we tighten around ourselves in order not to get hurt. After all, the verse above goes on to say: “…and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.” That’s work. That’s blood, sweat, and tears.

Prayer is a work. The handy Online Etymology Dictionary says this about “work”:

Old English weorc, worc "something done, discrete act performed by someone, action (whether voluntary or required), proceeding, business; that which is made or manufactured, products of labor"

If prayer is a work, what is the product of such labor?

The deeper and longer-lasting answer is that we are. One of my favorite scenes in the movie Shadowlands about the life of CS Lewis, where Anthony Hopkins, who plays him, is asked why he prays when nothing happens. He replies that prayer is not about changing his circumstances but about changing him. That hits the nail squarely on the head.

It is true, that when we pray we are moving God’s heart and hand to work on our behalf. But we automatically assume that when we “move God’s mighty hand to answer our prayer” we know the product. That is, that our house would sell. Or the sickness would be healed. Or a promotion would be offered. It is not altogether wrong to seek these things.

But we are forced to ask: What is the terminus of the prayer? What is the real goal of the utterance?

That the house would sell so you can not be stressed? That the sickness would be done because it’s an inconvenience? That the promotion would come so you could buy more comforts? Again, these are not necessarily awry. BUT, they are penultimate. That is, they are one step removed from a deeper and more lasting purpose.

I do believe God heals and wants to heal. I pray diligently for friends and family who have terminal illnesses. That they would be healed. The more difficult work, though, is to hear Jesus’ prayer in the Garden and align ourselves with him. “Please let this cup pass from me. But. Not my will but yours be done.” A resignation that the Judge of all the Earth will surely do what’s right. To embrace our finite understanding of the myriad of actions that are happening in the hospital room as nurses and doctors attend to a dying woman.

And we are left with the question: Do we really believe that God’s love is better than life? Or have we contented ourselves with porridge rather than an eternal feast? Instead of learning how to suffer well and to press into the discomfort, we malign God and say that he is wicked. Rather, what if the arm is being cut to preserve the body? What if the desire is withheld to make the gall taste sweet?

This is not calling evil good and good evil. Rather, this is a call for us to reconfigure the metrics of good and evil in our lives. To re-consider that maybe my definitions are askew…indeed the gravitational pull of self is strong and subtle.

I will write more on this in a subsequent post on what to pray for. Suffice for now, that you can already feel the tension of the work that prayer is.