Intercessory Prayer
James 5: 13-16
John 14: 1-14
July 14, 1991
In a study group I had, the subject of prayer came up, and a man raised these questions: “If I were a wise, loving father, would it seem ludicrous that I would need prodding to do good for my children?” “If one of my children got sick in the night, wouldn’t it be ridiculous to think that another of my children would have to beg me for a cure?” “If I were all-knowing and all-loving, wouldn’t it be a waste to talk with me and plead with me to do something about the victims of AIDS?
With that opening salvo, we began to talk about intercessory prayer. I quickly discovered, or rediscovered, that it was a major stumbling block for many Christians. But how is it with you? Do you wonder why, week after week, we pray for the people of the Middle East? Do you begin to feel slightly hypocritical getting on your knees and praying for the sick, or for the safe return, or a happy issue out of our afflictions?
Let me confess that in the past, this has been a real theological problem for me, and the way that I resolved this dilemma was to say, quite possibly, intercessory prayer did not affect God, or the situation, but at least it sensitized me to the dimensions of the problem. Intercessory prayer, in my mind, was similar to the yellow ribbons that many put on their aerials, or their doors. They are simply a way of acknowledging your feelings toward that particular person, a country, or a situation.
The dilemma seems solved, but frankly, I’ve been told that confession is bad for the soul. Frankly, I have never been comfortable with this explanation. It never seemed to capture the spirit of the New Testament as evidenced by our lesson from James. Then one day I ran across a story, a story that opened the window on this prayer for me. Let me share it with you this morning. It’s about a clergyman who got word, one evening, that his closest friend was critically ill and not expected to live through the night. Upon receiving this news, as we learned from his journal, he went into the study and fell on his knees to pray. He asked God to spare his friend’s like. Then he remembered all the many good times they had together. As he was doing this, from somewhere a voice addressed him, saying, Just how serious are you about your friend’s life being spared? Would you be willing to relinquish half the years that you have left so that they may be added to his lifespan?
The question was so unexpected and so penetrating that the clergyman got up off his knees, sat down, and broke into a cold sweat. Suddenly, this whole understanding of prayer was challenged. Up to this point, he had always thought of intercessory prayer as a way of jogging God’s memory. Or, a way of releasing God’s resources. The way he used to describe his feelings about prayer was by analogy. Prayer was like going to some fabulously wealthy parishioner, begging him to divert some of his capital towards a project, and not having to worry about one’s own money.
From the moment that voice was heard, the clergyman wrote, intercessory prayer took on an entirely different dimension. Prayer involved his own life. He now began to weigh his family and all the things he wanted to accomplish against the life of his friend. Finally, he slipped back onto his knees and said quietly, Yes, I have considered the matter, and I hereby relinquish half of the years that I have remaining. The clergyman reported that he got off his knees, not knowing what the result of his words. He later learned that his friend survived.
I must admit that this story marked a turning point in my understanding of prayer. I began to see that we human beings have a great pool of spiritual energy, a pool that is just as real as our physical, intellectual, emotional, and economic resources. Furthermore, I believe that we can transfer parts of this resource to other people.
It is not hard to understand that fact in relation to our physical, intellectual, emotional, or economic powers, is it? We have always realized that we can give parts of our power or money away. The government takes part of our economic resources, our families get part of our emotional resources, our jobs keep part of our physical and intellectual powers, and so it goes to tell the truth, I’ve never thought of spiritual power in just the same way, but why not?
Looking again at the story, occurred to me that even in the omnipotent, all-wise, all-loving God had more at his disposal if I were to give him some of my spiritual powers. Even God has more to work with if there has been a kind of redistribution of wealth.
What I’m suggesting here is that there can be a transfer, or transfusion of spiritual power from one person to another. We don’t know exactly how it works; we are all rather elementary in our knowledge of the spiritual side of life. And so we talk in analogies. And, we say the act is similar to those who have given blood. You were transferring something of your resources to someone else. And I believe you can do the same with your spiritual potency.
Reflecting once again on the story of the clergyman, I see that within the tale lies a very definite challenge to all who would pray. Every time we are faced with giving up some of our resources, we are faced with an ethical challenge: how can we give? We assured that there are real limits to our powers. We cannot do everything. Much as we would like to give all our material goods to help the victims of earthquakes, we know that we can’t. As much as I would like to spend all my emotional resources and helping, counseling, and visiting the sick, I know that if that were all I did, I would soon burn out. What I am saying is that a certain selectivity is called for as we go through life. And so, the story challenged my sense of stewardship. How much of me am I willing to spare? The question that caused the clergyman to get off his knees was, Just how serious are you about the cause you are pleading? This is the question that has become the bottom line for me in prayer.
Just how serious are you? Are you willing to spare that amount of spiritual energy when someday you may need it for yourself? The stewardship question, the generosity issue, the essential challenge of life, whether we are talking about intellectual, emotional, economic, or spiritual resources, God asks Just how serious are you?
After reading that story, prayer for me has become less of a head trip and more of a heart trip. The cost of praying it is more than just the discomfort we feel and getting on our knees. Make no mistake, if you really are going to pray for another person, you will be diminished by the process, but you will also be enlarged by the process. This needs to be said. Every time we give of ourselves, and really give, not some token type of giving, every time we give of ourselves, we are one step closer to moving into our potential. Every time I give, I become more alive, more real, more like a child of God, more like the divine lover whom I follow. One of the books that became so successful a number of years ago, was Jonathan Livingston seagull. I think its popularity stemmed from reminding people of that vast potential in them that goes unrecognized. The genius of Jonathan Livingston lay in the fact that he did not hover close to the ground and settle for so little. He threw higher because he believed it was great energy, power, potential within each person. Furthermore, he believed that he was released by spending it, using it, giving it, and letting it go. I believe that this is true of human beings also. Our potential is enlarged every time we give of ourselves. That is a built-in fabric of the universe. You are enlarged by giving, releasing, and spending.
My hunch is that we human beings are still at the kindergarten level and dealing with our potential. The more I talk to Christians, the more I see that most of us have not progressed very far in our understanding of Christianity. Our prayer life is still in our heads, and not in our hearts. We have not come close to our potential. 75 years ago, Edwin Arlington Robinson wrote that the world is a kind of spiritual kindergarten where millions of bewildered infants are trying to catch God’s eye with the wrong signals. It was then, and it is now. But it need not be. We can use the right signals. Just how serious are you about your prayers?
Amen