(Image from adventisthealth) |
And so it is with prayer. Extemporaneous prayer seems to be in vogue these days, but even one as skilled as our interim minister believes spontaneity has limitations:
Does God prefer our casual and spontaneous prayers over formal word-smithed pieces of art? I’m sure the answer must be “both”.Even in the most laissez-faire societies some structure is necessary for that society to function. For example, if contracts were not enforceable through the state, then private parties would resort to some form of hostage-taking of property or even people to make sure that both sides live up to an agreement. Operations may continue, but at greatly reduced speed.
Formal well-written prayers are, of course, meant for God’s ears but they also have an effect on us as we pray them. There’s an old Latin paradox taught in Liturgy studies – “lex orandi, lex credendi”. It’s tricky to translate but basically it means “we pray what we believe, we believe what we pray”. Carefully sculpted prayers shape and guide our beliefs as much as they elegantly express them. They expand our voice; they train us into a broader understanding; and they offer the beauty of poetry as much as they offer the sentiments those words carry with them. For example, we could just say a casual “Do It!” at the end of every prayer, but we find the ritual formality of an ancient language more elegant so we say “Amen”.
As a musician, I’m not much of a composer. When I try and ‘improv’ I end up with limited musical phrases. So, I play a lot of Bach. To me, Bach is the musical Bible. He has such beautiful complexity beyond my limited imagination. His music shapes me; takes me places spiritually I could never have imagined on my own; his music transforms and heavily influences my own limited musical offerings. For me, prayer is like music. I don’t want to keep playing my own same limited childish song over and over every time I communicate with God, or my voice would hardly grow. I want something bigger than me, deeper and more profound than my own limited expression to shape my own voice.
Ordered worship, more specifically prayer, can stimulate beauty and creativity; the wisdom is in the design of the lattice, just enough to stave off chaos without stultifying creativity. One of the most recited and admired prayers in Christendom is the Prayer of St. Francis, an example of something "deeper and more profound than my own limited expression."
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.
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