Thursday, December 07, 2006

Fully Present for Prayer


How to pray in a society that prides itself on multitasking every possible moment.
by Trevor Lee

As a child I had the privilege of spending a month on the farm with my grandparents each summer. I learned to drive a tractor, feed chickens, and herd cattle, but the most important lesson I learned came before dinner each evening. As we assembled around the table, I dreaded the pre-meal prayer. My grandpa sat at the head of the table and once everyone was seated he bowed his head and began to pray. When my grandpa prayed you knew you were going to be there for a while. He launched into what seemed like a one-hour prayer before every meal, and I would sit at the other end of the big kitchen table thinking, I want mashed potatoes.

All that changed one day shortly before my grandpa's death. He began to pray as he had so many times before, but this time I wasn't thinking about the potatoes, I was focusing on his prayer. He prayed for his family as though our well being depended on his prayer. He prayed for the kingdom of God like it was the most important thing in the world. And as he prayed he began to weep. It wasn't the first time he had cried while he was praying, and in the past I always thought it was a little strange. I don't know if it was the maturity that comes with being twelve or the Holy Spirit making me pay attention, but this time it I was moved—I wanted to start crying too. I understood that he was weeping because he cared about his petitions with a depth I couldn't fully fathom. His prayer was passionate and meaningful. His mind and his heart were fully engaged as he cried out to his Father.

Prayer should be a moving experience. It is the created entering the presence of the Creator. The image-bearers uniting with the One whose image they bear. The broken feeling the touch of the Healer. Entering the presence of the God who defies our explanation and cannot be contained should never be a boring experience. Yet it often leaves us uninspired. Why?

The answer to that question starts with a study recently conducted by researchers from the University of Pittsburgh and the University of British Colombia. They joined forces to study reading comprehension—with incredible results. According to the researchers, "The readers who zoned out most tended to do the worst on tests of reading comprehension—a significant, if unsurprising, result."

As trite as the findings of this study are, they are profound for our prayer lives. We are left uninspired and wanting because we are not completely present with God when we pray. We thank God for the food we're about to consume, but our thoughts regress to the meeting we had that afternoon. We ask God to protect our kids while we ponder how to survive until the next paycheck. We sit down to listen to God and our minds wander uncontrollably. We lack the ability or discipline to be truly present with God in prayer. Our culture has trained our minds to wander.

One way it has done that is by demanding that we multitask. Not multitasking is seen as wasting time. Our lives are so busy that to do one thing at a time just isn't efficient. I recently noticed a bumper sticker on the car in front of me that said, "Put the phone down and drive!" But we don't have time to put down our phones, or the food we grabbed at the drive-thru, the makeup, or even the paper. We have to maximize every moment by multitasking as many things as possible. The problem with multitasking is that it trains the mind to jump from task to task. As we work on one thing our mind runs to other things that need to be accomplished. So we quit our original task to give attention to the task that just popped into our head, and the process repeats itself.

This translates into a horrible habit of being in the presence of people without being fully present. I often meet people at a bagel shop close to our church. As you approach the front of the line to order, there is a plain white sign taped to the counter that says, "Please get off your cell phone before ordering." They're asking people to give them the courtesy of being fully present for thirty seconds while ordering. Being present with others is a basic human courtesy, even if our culture has over stimulated us into forgetting that.

When we don't give people our full attention we can't truly engage them. We cannot see the pain or joy in their eyes, hear the tremble in their voice, or even remember what they said. Presence is essential in relationships, not just with other people, but with God. If we want to hear him, to be moved by the weight of our petitions, or to be awed by the privilege we have of approaching our Father, we have to be there—heart, mind, and soul.

There is no shortcut to being fully present in prayer; it is a discipline. As we begin to pray and our minds wander, we must force ourselves to come back. One method I have found helpful is to choose a single phrase that can draw my mind back to God. Something like, "In everything your attitude should be like that of Christ Jesus," or "God is merciful." Then when my mind tries to distract me from being in the presence of God, I have something I can use to coax it back.

Training our mind to focus and stay present with God is a process; it takes time and perseverance. But it is time well spent. My grandpa approached all prayer as more than a formality. He often wept because he was completely present. Being fully present in prayer increases the depth and joy of our prayer lives and allows us to enter the presence of God with awe and excitement.

(Trevor Lee is the Pastor of Young Adult Ministries at Southern Gables Church in Littleton, Colorado)

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Thanks for posting this, Nils. It's a great reminder that we handicap the power of our prayers by not paying attention--not paying attention to God, but also not really paying attention to what we are saying.
And yet there have been times when I've been fully present with God, which, for me at least, means that I often cry. But our society, even in the church, reacts to crying with (too great) concern, fear, or a sense of being uncomfortable. I personally am uncomfortable when I cry in public, and there have been times I consciously chose to not be fully present with God because I don't want to cry in public. And the worst part is that I never realized how sad that is! Am I really so concerned with what the loving friends around me (might) think that I pass up a chance to be with God? Definitely food for thought!

Kerry