Who Am I?

Why Do We Pray? 5 – Communion

Posted: March 14th, 2012 | Author: | Filed under: Prayer | Tags: , , , , , , | 4 Comments »

What if we asked what prayer is rather than trying to focus on what prayer does?

That’s a different sort of question, isn’t it? And perhaps as we understand something more about the essence of Christian prayer, it’s activity will become a little clearer.

So what is prayer?

I would like to suggest that Christian prayer is a mystical connection with God. Now mystical is a word with all sorts of layered meanings in our culture. I use it in the sense of something that has a spiritual meaning that goes beyond our human understanding. In prayer, we step directly into the unmediated presence of God. We are communicating (a word with an intriguing etymology) with God and God with us.

Now, that’s not to imply any particular sort of feeling or experience — which is often what people think when they hear the word mystical. In truth, we may feel nothing. We may not recognize the connection. We may feel our prayers go no higher than the ceiling (which begs the question, of course, of why we feel our prayers need to go anywhere). But if God has an independent, transcendent reality and if prayer is in fact a direct means of interacting with God, then this happens in our prayer whether we feel anything or not.

And that, of course, makes sense of the often repeated instruction to Christians to pray without ceasing. If we were able to open our nous or receptive mind so it is always aware of God, then the mystical connection of prayer would never be broken. Of course, that is easier said than done and in order to move in that direction, we must practice a discipline of prayer — a rule of prayer.

We don’t primarily pray to change God (as if we could), to change ourselves, or to establish a religious community of faith marked by its common practice. No, we pray to grow in communion with God. Now, that process will undeniably change us. And as we grow in communion with God, we will grow in communion with other human beings — which is more than mere fellowship or community. But those are effects of growing in communion with God, of training our nous to be open and directed at God; they are not the purpose of prayer.

In some ways, it is like communication between spouses. Yes, there’s a level at which I talk to my wife and she talks to me just to share information and organize our lives. But on a deeper level, we speak and communicate with each other so that we might grow in communion with each other — so that we might become, in some sense, one. My wife sometimes complains in frustration that she hardly understands me at all, but in truth she knows me better than any other human being. Sometimes she knows me better than I know myself.

Though the metaphor may be strained, prayer is still something very much like that deeper communication between spouses. Of course, God already knows us through and through, but we often do not know God. We do not usually commune with God. Prayer gives us that direct connection to know God as much as we can bear. But to do that, we must pray, and we often do not want to pray at all.

Pray anyway.

As much as you can. As often as you can. To the extent that you can. An attempt to pray, to adhere to a rule of prayer, is better than not praying, even if it seems like God is a million miles away.

Somewhere along the journey, prayer must also involve learning to listen. For the connection of prayer is two-way. If you are connected to God, you have made yourself open to God. If our organ of prayer is our nous, or receptive mind, then we inevitably open our heart to that toward which we direct it.

How will God communicate with you? I can’t say, because I don’t believe there is any rule or constraint. Some hear an almost audible voice. I have at times heard a gentle, inner whisper. Often it may be an understanding.

How do you tell the difference between God’s communication and your own inner voice? That’s a good question and we see frequent examples of situations in which people have almost certainly confused the two. We lie to ourselves so facilely and thoroughly that it’s easy to believe we are communing and hearing from God, when in fact the “god” in question is ourselves.

I have no answer. The only thing I can say is pray and grow in communion with God. If you do, you will learn to know his voice.

4 Comments on “Why Do We Pray? 5 – Communion”

  1. 1 brambonius said at 5:14 pm on March 14th, 2012:

    thank you, tthis is beautiful!

  2. 2 Scott said at 8:31 pm on March 14th, 2012:

    Glad you appreciated it.

  3. 3 Elizabeth Esther said at 10:57 pm on April 18th, 2012:

    Scott: i like the idea of prayer being our way of increasing our communion with God. i’ve seen prayer used in so many unfruitful ways; demanding God change things or DO something, etc. I love your reflection, here. Do you think God minds if we pray about all the little things in our lives? Sometimes I wonder if I’m just annoying Him–or being presumptuous? Sort of assuming He cares about stuff like that? Just curious about your thoughts!

  4. 4 Scott said at 11:40 pm on April 18th, 2012:

    There are other posts in this series and you probably need to read them all to get a more complete sense of my thoughts.

    But I suppose I would answer your question with another question. Do you think your spouse minds you talking to him about all the “little things” in your life? Do you think he cares about that stuff?

    I’m not suggesting, of course, that you are married to God, but there’s a great mystery there — and the Church is called the bride of Christ.

    Think about it. Our God is a God who so loved humanity that he became one of us. He assumed our mortality to rescue us. He became “meat”. He joined his nature to ours, so deeply did he desire communion with us.

    He cares about us. And of necessity, that means he cares about the things that worry us — not because he’s some magic genie who is going to do something about it, but simply because it concerns us.

    The samaritan woman is an excellent example. Jesus treated each of her concerns seriously. It doesn’t mean he answered or addressed them all, but he listened. Ours is a God who listens — who cares.

    How amazing is that?