Items related to The Elements of Prayer: Learning to Pray in Real Life

The Elements of Prayer: Learning to Pray in Real Life - Hardcover

Jewell, Joseph O.

 
9781577315476: The Elements of Prayer: Learning to Pray in Real Life

Synopsis

<div>In his 25 years as a Methodist pastor, the question most frequently asked of Joe Jewell is, What is prayer and how does one pray? Not recited-by-rote platitudes, or long-winded sermons, or stale pieties, but how does one communicate to a higher power the things that really matter in one&#8217;s life? <i>The Elements of Prayer</i> offers thoughtful guidelines. Written with the understanding that like writing, prayer is something everyone can do, but which all struggle to do well, Jewell uses Strunk and White&#8217;s classic guide as a model for prayer. In ten rules of usage, form, composition, and approach, along with a playful glossary, the book bolsters readers&#8217;s understanding of, and confidence in, the art of prayer. Rather than employing a doctrinal approach, Jewell&#8217;s method is more fundamental, seeking to &#147;outline rather than fill in," trusting in readers to find their own authentic voice in this essential element of spiritual life.</div>

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The Elements of Prayer

Learning to Pray in Real Life

By Joe B. Jewell

New World Library

Copyright © 2006 Joe B. Jewell
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-57731-547-6

Contents

Preface,
Introduction,
CHAPTER ONE — The Rules of Usage,
CHAPTER TWO — The Principles of Composition,
CHAPTER THREE — Some Matters of Form,
CHAPTER FOUR — Commonly Misused Words, Expressions, and Concepts,
CHAPTER FIVE — An Approach to Prayer,
A Short Concluding Unscientific Postscript,
Acknowledgments,
Notes,
Recommended Reading,
About the Author,


CHAPTER 1

The RULES of USAGE


Almost instinctively, the first question we ask is "What do I pray for?" There are two kinds of praying: for purpose and for object. The first is concerned with the reason for praying while the second involves what the prayer asks for. The first recognizes that all prayers have an intention and the second that all prayers are petitions. The rules of this section seek to answer both sides of the question "What do I pray for?" in such a way that praying stays centered on its primary function: relating to the Great Other.


1. Pray for yourself.

This is not being selfish; this is where you start. Fundamentally, prayer is about your relationship with God. You are the one communicating, and central to that communication is putting yourself in relationship with God. The real you must be present — no one else, no others, no false selves. This is your expression and yours alone. Too many people use false humility to avoid praying. "I'm too bad to pray" or "I don't know what to pray about." Others simply try to fool God by pretending to be other than who they really are. This is the one communication where it is utterly safe to be who you really are. God expects your true self to show up.

One of the best examples of being your true self in prayer comes in the closing moments of the movie Cool Hand Luke when, trapped in a church, the serial escapee Luke turns to God and prays to "the Old Man." His prayer is completely in character: direct, honest, and totally congruent with who he is. He isn't afraid that God will reject that self. (He is also not really sure whether it is worth praying.) When I first saw this scene in a theater many years ago, I was startled by its directness. Here were no formal addresses, no stultifying language, no pieties — just direct, real speech. Nothing comes between Luke and "the Old Man." It is just the two of them, two selves interacting. It changed my long-standing attitude that prayer was formal and impersonal and made it more realizable for me.

Similarly, a young mother drew me aside one Sunday after church to discuss a problem. We stood in my office, with me itching to get out of my robes and stole and get a cup of coffee. "This prayer thing doesn't seem to be working for me," she told me. I asked her to explain. She listed the things she prayed for and explained how she saw no improvements in any of them. I was about to give her a standard answer involving the inscrutability of God's intentions when she added, "I'm not sure God cares about me." That stopped me cold. I asked her if she had prayed about that uncertainty. She replied she had not, that it seemed selfish, unworthy. I realized that prayer was external to her, a form to be filled out and sent in, her spiritual income tax. I told her that what she needed to pray about was how she kept God at arm's length. I explained that prayer was about relating to God and making that relationship more central to her prayer would help it become more meaningful to her. We agreed to meet again and after a few follow-up talks she began to feel more comfortable with prayer.

The self who prays is both the intention and the object of the prayer. God accepts the real you and will respond to who you are, so the real you has to show up. It is simply the way it works.

O God, my needs seem so small, so insignificant when compared to yours. Hear my prayer and open your heart as I open mine. I bring who I am, who I hope to be. Dwell in me that I might dwell in the world as you intend me to be. Let your will for me become my desire. Let me be your prayer to the world.

Amen.


2. Pray for your concerns.

Whatever most occupies your consciousness is your true concern. The events, worries, problems, joys, and excitements of your life are the first things you should mention in prayer. They are easiest to pray about because they sit at the forefront of your awareness. You don't have to spend a lot of time thinking up stuff to pray about; you simply start with "this bothers me" or "this excites me."

Identifying what most concerns you helps you face what most concerns you. This is the old tactic of "naming the demon." When you identify your problems you take a major step toward handling them. Praying won't necessarily resolve your vexing concerns, but it will help you identify them and keep them in perspective. Once you start the process you will find yourself sorting out what does and doesn't really concern you. In other words, your worries will be given priority and you'll find them more manageable. The first requirement is being honest with yourself. That commitment points you in the right direction from the outset.

I was once attended a clergy luncheon about race relations. The convening clergyman, who happened to be white, closed the meeting with a prayer. We had discussed both national and local race issues during the day and the group, which was made up of many different races, had a fruitful and helpful gathering. However, as the minister prayed I felt a poke in my side from the friend and colleague who sat beside me. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. He knew I was thinking the same thing he was. Afterward, in the safety of the parking lot, we talked about our disrespectful reaction. The prayer was the way to close the meeting, but its content and delivery belied its sincerity. His tone was condescending, he used pat phrases that didn't ring authentic, and the whole effort felt out of key. In the words of my friend, he was faking it; there was no real concern about race in his words. To me with my Southern heritage he sounded like "Massa extolling the good darkies." That is not the kind of prayer you present to God when you really care. Think about it: when something really concerns you it is clear in your language and tone. God deserves no less.

Keep me focused, O God, upon my troubled heart. Help me hear the cries of concern that echo there and help me strive after the path of resolution that you would have me follow. May your Love be my watchword, and my life be a help to those in need through your strength.

Amen.


3. Pray for what counts.

Once you have identified your concerns, you then have to determine what you can and can't do about them. You have to understand the connection between what you are feeling and how to turn that feeling into appropriate action. Good prayer always helps. Once you identify your true concerns, you can generally figure out how to act. This is what counts. You can pray all you want about world peace for example. You can tell God that you want the world to be at peace until you are blue in the face and God probably is too. This may make you feel better, but it is a shallow feeling, one without staying power.

The next question is crucial: "What can I do to promote world peace?" Then you began to see your way forward. Maybe you'll study geopolitical realities in order to promote what you believe to be the best course of action, or you may create some work of art to inspire others toward world peace, or you may resolve personally to act nonviolently with all you encounter. Whatever you choose, and it is entirely your choice, it will open up possibilities and opportunities for acting for world peace. Then your good feeling will have results and have depth and your life will be enriched.

This is virtually what I told a man in one parish when he presented me with this very problem. I had included the problem of world peace in a sermon as an illustration of how faith works in the world and he pressed the issue of how action proceeds from faith. He understood that world peace wouldn't bend to his will, but he didn't understand why it wouldn't. "Maybe you should start with your understanding," I told him, "and work out how your understanding can lead to responsible action. Then you can find what you can do to promote peace." And he did.

Praying for what counts helps to identify your place in the world, your role in life. It determines your relationship to your concerns: whether you let them run your life or whether you understand and fruitfully handle them. Praying for what counts doesn't put you in charge, it merely helps you see your relationship to other influences in the world, and what it is possible to change. Sometimes what counts is simply the praying itself.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace! Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; for it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

— St. Francis of Assisi


4. Pray for reality.

How do you pray for reality? Reality is what it is and some people question whether prayer can affect reality. Others of course think prayer is the only reality. The truth, as usual, lies somewhere in between. The issue at stake in prayer is our relationship to reality. What we pray for is to understand reality for what it is and not what we think it is. We should not use prayer to try to confirm what we think is real. Instead, prayer should humbly seek to understand the way things are.

We all make certain assumptions about reality. Prayer should question those assumptions. Prayer may confirm their trustworthiness or reveal their flaws. Either way you are better off. You can either move confidently forward or search for new and more accurate assumptions.

Once while sitting around with a group of young people in one of my churches, one of the young men asked me, "What is real?" Being a bit of a smart-ass, especially in an informal setting, I gave him a glib answer like "cheese whiz." He laughed, and we played with the idea, but something in his manner told me the question wasn't meant facetiously. A little later when the others had left, I probed a little deeper. He wanted to know how one could distinguish what was real from what just appeared to be real or others believed to be real. That led to a long, deep, involved conversation about the nature of reality and the role of faith in finding one's place in that reality.

Knowing his family story and some worries his stepmother had shared with me, I understood there were underlying issues to his question. I wanted to help him find a place to stand in the midst of life, during a time when everything seems in flux and turmoil. I knew we had found it when he latched onto the idea that asking ourselves serious questions is like asking God serious questions. He realized it was okay to question God, and with that he realized that reality was bigger than he could fathom. It helped that he was a very good science student, and we could talk about Heisenberg's uncertainty principle, the idea that the observation of a phenomenon affects the phenomenon itself. He could understand that reality can be very slippery. I told him that real prayer is asking to know God without preconceived notions about what God might be. This is praying for reality.

This is a hard rule to follow because we expend a lot of our mental and spiritual energy establishing, defending, and promoting our personal notions of reality. Using patience and time and discipline to question our assumptions will help us ground ourselves more firmly in God's reality.

Teach us, O Holy One, your way again. From great to small your heart roams, seeking the fulfillment of all. But we stumble, get lost, and fail to pay attention; we let our doubts overwhelm us.

Remind us that the road to your peace is a humble one, that our understanding relies on you. It is your light upon our dark path we seek.

Amen.


5. Pray for direction.

People often say, "I prayed and I still don't know what to do" or "I prayed but didn't get an answer." This is when two old adages about prayer come to bear: (1) Be careful what you pray for because you might get it and (2) God always answers prayer, it just might not be the answer you wanted. The hidden assumption these adages reveal is that prayer is about answers. It's important to remember that prayer is simply about prayer. You pray to the Great Other in order to maintain and build your relationship. That relationship shapes who you are and that identity moves you to act. The concerns of your life then receive the attention they need and are resolved.

Prayer is not some magic bullet you can go to for answers, solutions, or reassurances that you are right. It is not asking God to solve your problems or answer your questions or magically heal you like some kind of mystical ombudsman. I was violently disabused of such notions one Sunday morning in the fourth grade. I was sitting in Sunday school when I felt my stomach go awry. I rushed into the bathroom and closed myself in a stall. When my stomach continued to roil, I prayed I wouldn't be sick. I prayed with all my might and promised God I'd do anything: never be bad again, dedicate my life to His work. I then proceeded to lose the entire contents of my stomach and then some.

I figured that if prayer didn't work in Sunday school, it probably didn't work anywhere. The fact that I've spent over thirty years studying and pursuing God's meaning is the ironic twist on this story. That prayer didn't help my stomach virus, but it may well have been a key point in turning my life toward the pursuit of faith and religious meaning.

Direction comes when we consciously seek it. Prayer seeks guidance for how we are to proceed, the best way to live out what our faith tells us is important. Asking for resolutions or answers or healing may be a part of that seeking, as long as our search for answers rests on the best intentions we can have for ourselves and others. Just lining up our intentions with God's intentions works to our advantage, but it doesn't necessarily mean our original intentions will be fulfilled. (Again, God does answer prayer, just not always with the answer we expect.) As we line ourselves up in that hope of living out God's intentions, we establish the direction of our lives. The answers, the solutions, the healings, and the celebrations of our lives will become apparent as we move along that path.

I'm tired of the runaround, God. Too much that means too little clogs my way. I feel lost, even abandoned, in the midst of my life. Help move me toward something again. Give me a clear eye to help spot the way I must go and help me find the strength I need to take those steps. May your will for me become my heart and may your love become mine, so that I am eternally seeking my place in your kingdom.

Amen.


6. Pray for what you seek.

This is not the same thing as what you want. Wants are bound to the things of this world. You want a new car or house or the tools back that your neighbor borrowed. Wants naturally accrue to us through living and are determined by what we experience and learn and see beyond our grasp. However, wants will pass and be replaced by others. They are transitory by nature. That does not make them bad. We all have them and must learn to handle them and prevent them from ruling our lives.

Wants symbolize a deeper part of us, namely what we ourselves long to be, what we are to become. What we seek is the person we are meant to be, given all the factors that have converged on our being. Author Joseph Campbell's mythic motif of the hero's journey in his book The Hero with a Thousand Faces plots the course that seeking takes: the call beyond routines, the adventures along the way, the friends met and obstacles overcome, and the struggle to obtain the boon (what we seek) and bring it back to our regular world. The point is we all seek to be the person we are meant to be. How we achieve that is as varied as we are, but the quest is universal. What we seek in prayer should be an understanding of that boon. Our wants may symbolically represent that deeper seeking, but they should not overwhelm it. That is ultimately unsatisfying and frustrating.

One time a man came to my office wanting to talk about "things." As a pastor I've learned over the years to pick up on the nonverbal signs of trouble people give off and this guy was giving off a lot of them. I knew he was having problems in his marriage before he sat down. He told me he wanted to have an affair. I asked him why; he had a lovely wife of some twelve years. What was driving him toward an affair? He responded that his life seemed so routine, so normal, so common, so dull. There was no adventure or excitement anymore. The thought of an affair excited him. It was dangerous, it was fun, and so on. So why come see me? Why not seek out a willing partner? That gave him pause, and he launched into a long, winding explanation that ended with him basically admitting he felt guilty for thinking these things. I asked him if he came to me to get rid of the guilt or the idea. He didn't know.


(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Elements of Prayer by Joe B. Jewell. Copyright © 2006 Joe B. Jewell. Excerpted by permission of New World Library.
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