The Power of Prayer

When Jonathan and I were planning this service, we sent a flurry of text messages back and forth to each other exploring different aspects of the idea of “prayer”.  Somewhere in the midst of this, one of the members of my household required a trip to the emergency room (don’t worry, everyone’s fine). I texted Jonathan to let him know, and make sure he was taking care of getting our summary to the newsletter and the website.  He replied that he was, and that, “no pun intended” he was “praying for me”.

His words did not evoke an intellectual response like “oh? And to whom are you praying? What exactly do you expect he/she/it to do for me?”, but rather- as one would probably expect- an emotional response-  I found his words to be an expression of comfort and support.  No more needed to be said, other than my “thank you”.

This time of year- a time traditionally of prayer and Thanksgiving, has many asking: what DOES prayer mean to Unitarian Universalists, who tend to ask “to whom are you praying, and what exactly do you expect he/she/it to do?”  Does prayer have any place in UU Spirituality, and what, if any, power does it hold?

I love words. Words paint pictures, words evoke emotion- words can make you laugh or make you cry. Words have power. And finding just the right word or combination of words to create a mood, or provoke a reaction or evoke a specific response when conveying a message can feel like an accomplishment beyond all others.

On the other end of the spectrum, words can become a source of pain or frustration, with how they are used and their deeply held meanings- as Jonathan mentioned earlier. They can also be overused. Settled couples know this well- “Love you” becomes a standard farewell, almost meaning “see you later”.

·         “Honey, I’m running to the store to grab some milk”

·         “alright, hon, love you!”

·         “Going to bed now”

·         “ok, good night kids, love you”

·         (you get the idea)

“I’m praying for you” seems to have in some ways, joined in with those phrases that are said but not really thought about, like “love you”, “bless you”,  “let’s do lunch”,  … We all know what they mean, but little thought is given before they are spoken.  It’s somehow more of an acknowledgement than a true meaningful connection- “I’m going through a really hard time right now” “ooh, so sorry to hear that. I’ll be praying for you”. Aw, thanks. I feel loved.

Yet, somehow when Jonathan had told me he was praying for me, it had meant something. Why?

When we started to explore this topic, Rev. Jill sent Jonathan and me a list of resources and references, from blog postings, to articles,  to other sermons. I confirmed in a phone call yesterday that when she sent this, she knew very well that I would be thinking “Get out of your head, Jill!” This was WAY too much head stuff!

Up to that point I had pretty much thought that prayers were merely words designed to evoke a particular response, or convey a particular message. If that were true, then why were Jonathan’s words as I sat in the ER more meaningful than say “random co-worker”?

What makes a prayer spiritual?

Does it matter to whom the prayer is directed? Do I really NEED an expectation of what he/she/it might be able to do? Is there really any documented scientific evidence of the power of prayer? Does prayer affect energy? Is it the words used? Does it need to be spoken aloud? Does it have to be a prayer or does meditation count? Does a prayer have to be meaningful or can it be a wish? If it is a wish, does that make it any less meaningful? Does it matter who delivers the prayer?

 I could almost hear Jill:

Get out of your head, Heather.

So I sat and meditated- dare I say prayed?- about it, and I decided that for me, trying to define prayer is trying to define the undefinable.

 Prayer is communication from the soul. It is primal.  It is the reaching out of one soul to another, the deepest expression of the soul- in pain, in desperation, in gratitude, in empathy, in joy.  To some extent it’s the exposing of raw emotion.

It can be an expression of reaching outside of oneself, acknowledging that there is something bigger than the individual- to some that is God, other’s it’s a unity of consciousness.

I’m feeling that the emotional place where we are when pray is such a deep and primal place, so unique to the individual experience that by its nature others cannot share that. But that does not mean that you need to be alone. The ability to offer a prayer is to offer a possibility. A possibility for a change, a possibility to be heard, a possibility for a celebration. Prayer is the ultimate message in a bottle- recipient unknown and unimportant. I’m baring my soul. Find me. Connect.

When we pray for another, quite often we could have no way to know what they are feeling. Yes, we may have some idea based on our experiences, but we cannot really KNOW. Our prayers for others are our attempts to let them know that they are not alone.

Each fall I see the Prayer for Schoolchildren who feel different by Rev. Meg Riley make its rounds in

various ways.

For those who are different, or who feel different—

Who learn differently, think differently, feel differently,

Who look different, whose faith is different, whose family is different,

Whose way to connect is different, whose way to dress is different,

Whose faith is different, whose place to live is different,

Whose sexuality is different, whose gender is different,

Whose culture is different, whose language is different,

Whose favorite foods are different, who loves different smells,

Whose body looks different, or works differently

Whose values and beliefs are different--

Do you see that different is just a word?

May you be freed from its poison.

Different: Just an idea laced with fear,

Don’t let it scare you.

A word expressing lack of imagination by those who use it to judge,

Don’t let it limit your own.

They can’t see that difference is the very essence of life,

The opposite of different isn’t normal; it is death.

Don’t let their sharp thorns kill your true self.

As the school doors open again,

May you walk in safety,

With all of your unique loveliness intact,

Knowing you are loved by people who haven’t even met you yet.

People you see and don’t see,

Your closest friends and family, and people who will never meet you,

All hold you in our hearts.

We need every bit of you as we walk our own different paths.

As the summer days end,

May you find the long days’ bright light

Shining in your mind as you learn.

As you go out on this crazy river, this life

Where you will navigate choppy waters, take new turns,

May you know in your bones you are never alone.

As you search for a place of ease and comfort,

May you know in your cells that it lives within you.

And that people who love you are everywhere smiling.

What the heck?!

How is this even a prayer? It’s not addressed to anyone, and it doesn’t end with “Amen”.

It’s a wish. A very, very, deep wish for someone else.

Throughout the prayer, the words are powerful, yet almost not enough to fully convey the depth. I can

almost hear the aching lack of the ability for words to fully convey the expressions of the soul with the

line “may you know in your bones you are never alone”, and “may you know in your cells” still does not

even quite describe the true depth of the emotion hinted at, but unable to be captured, in this prayer.

A couple of weeks ago, Rev. Jill talked about the stages of religion, and one of them was characterized by  the ability to  pray to a personal god, while intellectually believing one does not exist (I’m paraphrasing of course). I wonder if this is possible because the power of prayer is not the “to whom”, it’s the “from whence”.

So pray to God, pray to Allah, to the flying spaghetti monster, to Mary, to John, Paul, George, or Ringo. I don’t believe they are who you are really praying to. Prayer is the opening of a soul to another. It is the opening of one soul to receive.

So ultimately, what is the power of prayer?

 I believe the power of prayer is hope.

In closing, we offer you this prayer for self from His Holiness the Dalai Lama:

                                             May I become at all times, both now and forever

A protector for those without protection

A guide for those who have lost their way

A ship for those with oceans to cross

A bridge for those with rivers to cross

A sanctuary for those in danger

A lamp for those without light

A place of refuge for those who lack shelter

And a servant to all in need.

May peace be with you.

originally delivered 11.27.2011 at the Unitarian Fellowship of Lawrence