Praying When Prayer Doesn't Work

Another Book About Prayer?

King Solomon tried to warn me: “…my son, beware. The writing of many books is endless, and excessive devotion to books is wearying to the body.”1 I now know the depth of his wisdom. When I started this book, I only meant to jot down a few modest insights that came from some painful and challenging circumstances. But what began as a 20-page pamphlet mushroomed into a three-year process of study and writing that still cries out for “more” and “better.”

Good King Solomon knew something else about writing books. He said that no book has much value unless, “The Preacher sought to find delightful words and to write words of truth correctly. The words of wise men are like goads and masters of these collections are like well driven nails...”

Many centuries later, George MacDonald amplified Solomon’s wisdom by asking: “How am I to know that a thing is true? By doing what you know to be true and calling nothing true until you see it to be true; by shutting your mouth until the truth opens it. Are you meant to be silent? Then woe is you if you speak.”

So if I understand both men, if the truth bids my silence but I speak, I do no service to it or to myself. But if truth bids me speak and I withhold or demure because of fear, I do no service at all. My goal is to use well-chosen words to reveal my integrity, to share God’s wisdom and to generate Glory for Him.

I love what Ann Lamott says about writing books: “[I] try to write the books I would love to come upon, that are honest, concerned with real lives, human hearts, spiritual transformation, families, secrets, wonder, craziness-and that can make me laugh. When I am reading a book like this, I feel rich and profoundly relieved to be in the presence of someone who will share the truth with me, and throw the lights on a little, and I try to write these kinds of books.”

The Ultimate Credential

In 1965 as a part of The Salvation Army’s Centennial celebration, the Church of England honored General William Booth, the Army’s founder, by placing a bust of him in Westminster Abbey. On that occasion, a deeply humbled General Frederick Coutts wondered by what “right” Booth should be honored in the great cathedral of the Church of England. He answered his own question with a hauntingly simple thought: “By no right, but by the grace of God.”

If you wonder by what right I publish a book about prayer, it’s the same answer: by the grace of God. I understand very well that anything good or useful coming from this work, or me, is the result of both human and divine grace.

In fact, when it comes to praying, there are many who leave me in the dust. By comparison to some who read these words, I’m a mere novice. But I have a valuable message to share with those individuals who resonate with the title of this book, Praying When Prayer Doesn’t Work. Dr. Martin Marty uses the word “wintery” to describe our lives when God seems distant. At such times, well-meaning people of faith look for something to warm their spirits and more often than not, that’s prayer. The message of this book that first warmed my heart on a cold December morning in 2006 is that there’s much more to praying than tapping into its immediate utility.

For me, praying is a work-in-progress, because that’s exactly what I am to God. What I share here started long before I settled down to record it. While trying for years to crack the secret prayer code, I regularly gave up because the results were far less than the promises. Poet William Cowper describes the deadly habit of misjudging God’s love when we assume that He shows it by answering prayer requests: “Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, but trust Him for His grace.” It was learning to trust completely in grace, not feelings or prayer results, that changed my life and restored my prayer integrity. At a time when I struggled greatly with disappointment about all things in my life, including God, His Holy Spirit graced mine with a simple truth that ended my turmoil, unlocked my chains and set me free.

Prayer Is Evergreen, Enigmatic and Ethereal

As mentioned earlier, the positive side of praying is that so many do it daily. The underside of that amazing fact is to most that’s a couple of meal prayers a day and saying good-night to God. Maybe the disconnect between the desire and practice of prayer is a misunderstanding about what it is.

Here are three quick observations that may help us understand why we don't understand prayer:

One, prayer is an evergreen subject. That means it never stops growing. In one way, that’s good news, but it also makes understanding it problematic.

Two, prayer is enigmatic. That means its mysterious nature makes it hard to contain in any man-made doctrine or system.

Three, prayer is about God, not us. So like Him, it's ethereal, ineffable and undefinable by nature making it impossible to explain.

The great early Church thinker Tertullian tied to define such undefinable mysteries of faith by saying all doctrine is simply man’s attempt to fence a mystery. Ethereal and eternal subjects, like prayer, have no terminus or adequate explanation. All we can hope to do is experientially define it, seek to understand little bits about it and share our insights with others.

Therefore, prayer has as many connotations and systems as practitioners and everyone has an opinion about what it is and how it ought to work. That’s where dogma comes in.

Unfortunately, when finite minds try to explain, simplify, categorize or codify infinite subjects, their conclusions often create more turmoil than truth. Some amount of confusion or mystery is healthy as long as it’s redeemed by an ongoing search for the light, but unfortunately, ignorance, apathy and blind acceptance of the company line results in the worship of the dogma, not the Divine.

Well-meaning explanations about how prayer is supposed to work, even when it doesn’t, makes praying either a dry duty or a frustrating scheme, often causing more harm than good to the sincere seeker. I believe that far too many today are stuck on the muddy roads of prayer dogma.