Confession: I cringe every time I tell someone that I’ll
pray for them. Even more, I cringe every time someone puts a status on Facebook
asking for prayers. Don’t get me wrong, I do pray for them and I think prayer
is a very good and useful thing even though I can’t tell you how it works. This
doesn’t have anything to do with prayer. It has to do with how we interact with
our fellow human beings.
Whenever I use that phrase, that “I’m praying for you”
phrase, it’s not really what I want to say. What I want to say is, “I care
about you and want things to work out for you.” But that feels too intimate and
expressing true intimacy and depth of emotion in a friendship can be rather
terrifying. So, instead of expressing that intimacy we use our relationship to
God as a buffer. Instead of saying that we care about them and love them and
share in their concerns, we end up saying that we care about them enough to
call in a favor with a third party.
No big deal. I know a guy. He has some connections with the
cosmos. I’ll put in a good word for ya.
When my friends are in need, when I want desperately to care
for them, I never know what to say. I want to hug them. Touch is so much more
profound than words, but I end up sending a quick, somewhat flippant text that
says, “I’m praying for you.”
Does that help? Does it mean anything?
I know it does, because I appreciate it when people tell me
that when things aren’t going so well. It means that you aren’t forgotten, and
it means that even though you feel alone, you aren’t, but something about it
feels off.
I don’t know why I’m thinking about this today. I probably
saw some Facebook status with 25 comments that all said, “Lifting you up”
and “Praying hard” and it probably made me gag a little bit.
I know they mean well. I know I would say the same thing in
the same situation. You can’t do anything, but you want them to feel loved, so
you just spout off with some spiritualistic cliché that makes them aware that
you exist and makes you feel…what? Accomplished? No, it probably makes you wish
you could do more.
I’m not proposing anything. I don’t know what to change. I
don’t know if anything needs to change. I think I just want us to be more
honest. I want us to acknowledge that we feel uncomfortable in these
circumstances.
Maybe it’s not so bad to feel uncomfortable sometimes. Maybe
that’s what pain in community is supposed to be. Maybe we’re supposed to
share the uncomfortable moments with each other. Maybe the only way to deal
with the pain is to work through the pain instead of deadening the suffering
with the anodynes of clichéd religion. Maybe real religion is painful and maybe
real love and intimacy is necessary. Maybe the best response to pain is an
intimate and aching, “I love you.”
Maybe.
Peace,
Ben
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Ben, I don't comment much, and I haven't been reading this blog much lately because my own life has been rather upside down. Newborn babies will do that to a girl. ; ) But I want you to know that most of what you write resonates with me...and this post almost more than anything yet. You've said what I've been trying to put into words for years but haven't been able to.
ReplyDeleteI think you really hit the nail on its sore, proverbial little head with the statements, "Maybe the only way to deal with the pain is to work through the pain instead of deadening the suffering with the anodynes of clichéd religion. Maybe real religion is painful and maybe real love and intimacy is necessary." Love and intimacy can't happen unless it's painful and messey. Real community can't happen unless it's painful and messy. "I'm praying for you" isn't going to stop feeling trite until we are willing to plunge into the pain and the mess.
Down with arm's-length efficiency. ; )