Prayer
I wasn't sure how to start this web page, but I think the most important thing is start. I wrote a paper for my prayer class back in December of 2005. It was my second semester in Seminary. Seminary was not what I expected. Dr. MarkKate Morse was the Prayer class professor. I had no idea the impact she would have, still has, on my life.
I have made a few edits and additions to that old paper, but by and large it is the same.
The latter part of August I heard a Rabbi say if we would promise God to do something at the same time every day, for the rest of our life, and do it, no matter how small, it would change us. George Fox works hard to teach its students that we need to like ourselves before we can really like anyone else. I understand the psychological red flags of what I am about to say, but even now, four years later, I still don't agree with that thesis. It has always been easy for me to see the good in others exceeding any good there might be in myself. After reflecting on what the Rabbi said and having just finished To Pray As A Jew by Rabbi Hayim Halevy Donin, I once more began a process I hoped would bring about a change in me for the better.
Earlier that summer I took Quaker Polity with Dr. Carole Spencer and immersed myself in Fox and Barclay. Donin made for a real contrast. These two approaches to God, although quite different, fascinated me, although admittedly, I am most at home with structure and lists.
Surprises, even good surprises are difficult for me, but I enjoy them once they are over. It is that feeling of helplessness during the unexpected that is uncomfortable. Yes, I prefer to drive rather than ride, regardless of whose car it is and regardless of who is driving.
Praying in a small group led to an unexpected intimacy. I learned that people can share heart burdens that make me want to run. Those unexpected encounters with suffering are what real prayer is all about. I always need the LORD, but when someone else's sorrow fills my heart I especially need the LORD to quiet my spirit. I used to worry about not knowing what to say to someone whose heart was breaking. Now I know it isn't necessary for me to speak unless I'm given something to say.
In his book Donin wrote that a pius Jew would read Psalms 145-150 every day before prayer, just to get in the right attitude. I promised the LORD that this is what I would do every day at 5 am for the rest of my life. I had started these kind of projects before only to find that I couldn’t fast one day so certainly not forty days. Reading this in the approaching summer of 2009 I note that I no longer get up at 5 and even though I have made reading those Psalms an early morning routine, it does not happen every day.
Those first three weeks were difficult, but that Prayer Class helped me stick with it. I had to have a closer walk with the LORD if I was going to survive the prayer sessions with the three ladies I had been grouped with.
I started writing down prayers for people and reading these after I finished my Psalm ritual. This was great because it kept me from praying for the things I wanted. As my list grew longer I found more and more people and their situations coming to my mind instead of my usual financial fears about the future.
After a couple of months I noticed a kind of satisfaction developing in me. I eventually recognized this as pride that I was still following through with my promise. One morning I felt like God just wanted me to be still. This was a real issue because I had my routine and I kept track of my consecutive mornings and I was now in the seventies. I felt like God was asking me if my routine was the main reason why I was getting up or if it was to be with my LORD.
Sheepishly and reluctantly I did not turn on my laptop. I sat still for ninety minutes, but I had no revelation and I did not hear God say anything. Still, I felt like I had made some kind of personal breakthrough, though I had no idea what that might be.
My mornings became and still are very precious to me, despite no breakthroughs. Some of my prayers were answered and many were not. Mostly I still do my routine, but every now and then I will feel like I am just supposed to be still or just read scripture. Some days I stay in bed and pray the Lord's prayer and wonder if the Lord will show me how I am to use this day of life I have been given. I wait expectantly and so far all I can say is that I still wait expectantly, not knowing exactly what I am waiting for, not knowing exactly what I am hoping for, but none the less happy that I am waiting. As usual, when I am all finished my little clipboard has empty sheets of paper on it.
MaryKate's Prayer class showed me it is quite alright to use my lists, or read, or pace, or lay across the ottoman downstairs, as long as I don’t come to believe that any one or combination of these things is somehow necessary.
I don’t see any changes in myself, but my wife says I have changed dramatically. She says I am more relaxed, easy going and attentive. All I know for sure is that when the alarm goes off at five, six now, I get up with an expectancy, as though a friend is waiting for me. Speaking of a friend, my everyday prayer used to be for Godly wisdom, discernment and understanding. I would finish praying by telling God when I die it would be great to hear God say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” Now the desire of my heart is that when I breathe my last I so much want to hear God say, “Welcome home old friend.”