Prayer and God's silence
I don’t want to know all the answers—I only want some understanding on numerous issues that perplex me about prayer. I don’t want to fully understand every issue generated by every question—I only want to have an understanding of the direction I should be going as I think about them. I don’t want to substitute answers to my questions for actual praying—I couldn’t keep from praying if I were ordered to!
[It irritates me more than a little when people
speak to people like me who are filled with questions and treat us as if
we thought “knowledge” was a substitute for living; as if we were more
interested in “head” knowledge than “heart” knowledge. I don’t think
that to seek understanding is one form of ducking out of real living.
While I don’t think “knowledge” is everything, I’ve
no reason to believe that God gets a kick out of how we exult in our
ignorance (if and when we do that). There’s nothing particularly pious
about that airy dismissal of serious reflection on central issues—“Oh
questions like that don’t bother me. I just trust the Lord.” Yes, I can
see that trusting is right and makes sense but then some of us are bothered by such questions even though we do
trust the Lord. A pursuit of understanding could easily get out of hand
but so can a mindset that’s too willing to remain ignorant. Maybe we
should credit one another with the best motivation while we all trust
the Lord completely.]
Jesus never tried to prove that prayer “works”. He
took it for granted and prayed. He might never have thought about the
matter (“Does prayer work?”)—that wouldn’t surprise me in the least.
When we wonder if prayer “works” it’s almost always in the context of
asking “for” things; that is, when we’re making requests. Like, “Give us
this day our daily bread” or, “Heal my very sick child” or, “Please
bring Harold back home to us” or, “Please keep our marriage from falling
apart.” This is legitimate prayer material, of course, and it’d be
tragic if we couldn’t make our requests known to God. There’s no reason
for us to apologize for doing it (Philippians 4:6) even though later in
life we might apologize to God for some of the things we requested.
Prayer “works” as surely as a friend enjoying
conversation with his friend “works”. In what way does it “work”? Well,
it enriches the friendship, deepens our sense of the “personal” nature
of God (you can’t pray to a “force” or a “process”) and his interest in
our lives and all this has “social” consequences for the worshiper since
it cultivates intimacy with God and inner strength and stability. It
generates likeness to God (friends become like their friends) and that
in turns means everyone around us will benefit.
Yes, but isn’t prayer all one-sided? We do
all the talking and God says nothing! I can see how people can come to
feel that way—how difficult can it be to understand that? I notice,
however, that if we get some of the “big things” we ask for—cure from
some debilitating disease, a saved marriage, a redeemed child, a serious
financial rescue, and the like—then we don’t think God has been
speechless. In situations like that we think he has spoken loud and
clear. The truth is, even if this is a crass way to put it, I don't
think we care much if we never heard the “voice” of God so long as we
know he listens and responds to our requests, especially at critical
moments and in major things.
Then again, while it’s true we pray audibly I would
say that my speaking to God is almost always silent though conscious.
If my talking with God can take place without a sound maybe God speaking
to me can occur without a sound.
It’s commonplace for us to say that God “speaks” to
us in scripture and we’re content with that truth. We don’t constantly
feel the need to have God speak to us audibly though there are times
when we’d like that (we assume the conversation would always be
pleasant, don’t you know). We’d have a conversation with God and no
doubt we’d fill it with the questions of the day, the things people
argue about but I would guess that the main thing we’d gain by a God who
speaks to us audibly is that we'd "know" he is truly there, he’s real
and he truly does have an interest in us. I don’t think any of the above
is strange and I’m certain that if I knew I could bear to have him
speak audibly to me—that what he chooses to say to me are pleasant words
rather than words of judgment about how I am living out my life before
him—I know I would want that.
If he ever chooses to do that I’ll be more than
happy but in the meantime I confess that I’m happy for him to speak to
me in scripture and life, as he now does. It’s his chosen way to
communicate at present and while there is much I don’t understand in
what he has said and while I’m sure he hasn’t said anything about some of my specific questions [he’s not a divine almanac or the repository of information for Trivial Pursuit] I’m certain of his central purpose in his communicating with me (as with countless others). But how he speaks to us is less important than what he says when he does speak in his own chosen way.
He has spoken finally to us in and as Jesus
Christ and that colours our understanding of all that he has said, is
saying or will say in the future.
No comments:
Post a Comment