The Bald Goat

The other day, I heard a sermon about prayer. The main emphasis was that we don’t get it. We don’t value it. We sometimes make fun of it, but prayer is real and powerful. I do not disagree with these sentiments. The speaker used some video clips from the supper scene in Talladega Nights and Meet the Parents to show how prayer was depicted in our media today. It was funny and we all naturally got the point, but I wanted to disagree, but the only thing I could come up with was the movie Eat, Pray, Love which was a good example, but I thought it was not exactly a good answer either.

I think the problem I was having was the format. The “Dear God” beginning followed by the “Amen” ending. I think prayer comes up more than we realize and I think prayer in our lives comes up more than we realize. Let me take you kn a journey.

First the movies(Spoiler Alert): 

Most recently I have been struck by the prayers in the movie “Tangled” and “Never Let Me Go”. What? You don’t remember these prayers? Let me show you what I mean.

In the movie Tangled the princess (Rapunzel) is kidnapped and every year on her birthday the kingdom as a whole release thousands of floating lanterns into the sky. When we see the scene where the King and Queen, the mother and father prepare to light the lantern and send it into the sky, the pain is palpable. The folks at Pixar are amazing artists able to weave story and emotion and meaning into the smallest of details. This is so moving and powerful I cry every time I see it. Seriously. The king and queen proceed to light the lamp filled with hope and longing and fear and pain and send it up into the sky. What a powerful prayer…

In the movie, Never Let Me Go, we have the two main characters struggling to live. It is a bizarre film in which people are created, born and raised for the sole purpose of being organ donors. By the time they are in their twenties they will begin making “donations” and will eventually “complete” after their third donation. Some don’t make it that long and some make it longer, but they all die. The two main characters just happen to be “organ donors” are in love and don’t want to die and they hear a rumor that couples can qualify for an extension in order to live together for a few years longer because they are truly in love. This turns out to not be true and as the couple is driving home the man asks the girl who is driving to stop the car. He gets out of the car looking like he is going to be sick and stands in front of the car and yells at the top of his lungs. He screams and cries out. There are no words, but the raw pain and emotion and fear are all there. That prayer kicks you in the gut…

I was once on a mission trip to a children’s home in Anahuac, Chihuahua, Mexico named Casa de la Esperanza. Amy was pregnant with Finn at the time and stayed back in the states. Actually when we left for Mexico she was due in six weeks and the doctor had scheduled the c-section to take place in four weeks. And I left her at home with a one year old Piper. I win husband of the year right there don’t I?

Things seemed to be going well except for our ability to communicate with people back home for the first few days. We moved hotels and were staying in a Mennonite camp about 20 miles from anything. It was a great place to stay and the owners were some of the best people you will ever meet. But they didn’t have a phone. One night after all the teens were in bed I made my way to a phone. I had promised Amy I would call her that day. So, I went by myself, 20 miles, to a closed gas station, in the middle of nowhere, in Mexico just so that I could hear her voice. (Doesn’t that sound romantic? Doesn’t that make up for leaving her pregnant at home? No? Well, I tried…) 

I have only 5 minutes on my phone card. Just enough time for Amy to tell me that she was informed that day that she had not built up enough time at her job to receive maternity leave and so she would have to either quit or be fired. She had a better job than me with better pay and benefits! Speaking of benefits, that is how Finn was to be born, with Amy’s health insurance, which we would lose when she didn’t have this job anymore. Amy just had enough time to tell me the details and I said “I love you” and the phone went dead. Times up.

I cried…

I wailed. I drove back to the Mennonite camp for some of the longest painful 20 minutes I can ever remember. I wanted to hold Amy, to comfort her, to figure out what to do. To talk to her and surround her with reassurance, but I couldn’t. The stores were closed and there was no way to buy another phone card. We were cut off. Separated buy a great expanse and it hurt. I never spoke any words, but I cried out to God. I will never forget that prayer…

Prayer is not a format, a cut and paste or routine. It is not prepared. It is opening up in relationship to our God and letting him see us on the inside. To tell him about our day, the good things and the bad things, letting him see all the emotions and feelings that are wrapped up inside our souls.I think too often we allow ourselves to hide behind our religious exercises and unknowingly try to keep Him out of our innermost being. We don’t know the kind of distance we put between us and God when we fail to realize the connection we have with God every moment of every day, in all the expressions of our heart.

These are just a few examples and I am sure that if I thought about it, I could think of prayers every day that go up like this. Prayers that have no words, but that are an expression of emotion. Pain, joy, love, anger, loss, hope, fear, all expressed without a word but heard by the one who hears our prayers. Who knows our innermost being.

At the same time the Spirit also helps us in our weakness, because we don’t know how to pray for what we need. But the Spirit intercedes along with our groans that cannot be expressed in words. ~ Romans 8:26