“I’ll pray for you.” That’s an expression that seems to be common among those who claim to have a relationship with the living God. The words come relatively easy. We say them as part of our good-bye when leaving a friend, we use them to turn a conversation when we aren’t sure what else to say, we tack them on to our words of condolence when we are trying to make sense of a friend’s trouble or trauma.
But, I wonder. Do we? That is, do we really pray? And, if we do pray, do we think it really matters?
I don’t mean to suggest that when we (or should I say, more honestly, when I?) use those words, we are being dishonest or insincere. I only wonder what we really are thinking . . . or whether we are really thinking at all about what we are saying.
Will I really pray? Will I talk to God about the matter as if it really mattered . . . to me? Will I have any sense that if I do talk with God that anything will be different . . . other than my personal conscience will be eased seeing as I have discharged the pledge of praying?
I was looking over Paul’s letter to the Philippians; I am not very far into the letter. I am trying to pay attention to how the language reflects upon Paul’s thinking. I love the attitude of hope and joy that permeates this epistle and I want to try to better grasp how Paul lived in sincere and heart-felt joy in Jesus.
He is in prison; it’s not where he would have planned to be. Some less-than-sincere believers are stirring up trouble in the city of Philippi, a place dear to the heart of this now-aging apostle. And he still writes out of joy. And, in those opening paragraphs, he writes about his imprisonment. He says:
For I know that this will turn out for my deliverance through your prayers and the provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ (Philippians 1:19).
Although he is in prison and has no human word that his trouble will be coming to end soon, he has a sense that it will; he believes that there is coming some sort of deliverance. It is unclear whether he has in mind actual release from prison or some other unforeseen resolution. Later in the letter, he seems fairly strongly convinced that his days are not yet over. He anticipates more ministry; some deliverance is ahead that will allow him to continue to minister. What intrigues me is how Paul speaks of that certainty.
He knows that the Spirit will sustain and keep and provide for and bring him through this trouble; the Spirit is instrumental to his getting through the present trouble. But he also anchors his certainty to the prayers of the Philippians. That is extraordinary.
Paul is a firm believer in the sovereign work of God; he has just previously confessed (in this letter) that his imprisonment is not a human miscarriage of justice but, in fact, an “imprisonment in Christ” (that is, well within what Christ is doing). But in addition to seeing God’s hand in what is happening, he seems to think that God is going to work in concert with and through the active participation of the prayers of others. God is going to work in and through the prayers of the Philippians on Paul’s behalf. He really thought that their praying mattered.
I have often said to someone, “I’ll pray for you.” But I wonder if those I said that to really ended up feeling a bold confidence that things were going to be different because I was praying.
I have often had others say similar words about prayer to me. But I don’t know that I very often get to the place that I would express bold confidence that things are going to be different because that person or those others are praying.
It’s not that I don’t think prayer does something, it’s just that I am not sure prayer is really as effective and life-altering as Paul seems to think.
That seems to me to be an idea worth pursuing. James writes that the prayer of a righteous man accomplishes much (in James 5); Paul seemed to think that the prayers of the Philippians mattered greatly. Maybe I need to start thinking like Paul and James.
How different would I live if I thought that the prayers of others (and my prayers for them) really did matter?
2 Comments
Thank you.thank you.thank you.thank you! There aren’t too many discussions or posts on this topic, what i consider the sometimes flippant use of the expression, “i’ll pray for you.” It’s refreshing to see i’m not the only one wondering. I do consider Paul’s words truthful, though; prayer is powerful. I consider God using prayer at its best, when He transcends time (because why wait on us, right?!) i don’t think God needs our prayers to accomplish His work. He IS God. I do think He’s called us to pray for each other to teach us a spirit of patience and humility in difficult times. To pursue hope in prayer, selflessly seeking to lift up another without physical benefit, gratitude or prize. It seems to me prayer is God’s gift of spiritual maturity. Again, thank you, and for all my rambling.
Yes, He is God. And I fully agree that God doesn’t need our prayers to accomplish his work. But how amazing it is that he invites us to participate in what he is doing; he invites our praying as part of the way he will carry out his plans. Thus, praying matters. Lot’s to think about there! (You might also look back at my post: “Praying Doesn’t Help God Out.”)