Prayer and Fasting -- Who knew???
Last week, I had an engaging conversation with a fellow clergyperson who lives out West. New to the parish he serves (less than a year), the process of figuring out how that particular community of faith will live into its mission/vision occupies a good deal of his (and the parish's) energy. Lots of activity is buzzing about the place. Good turnout to the various liturgies, studies, meetings and fellowship opportunities seems to be the norm. But my friend began to ask the question, "Is all the activity serving a purpose, or is it simply activity for activity's sake?"
Then he came upon an idea. He would spend several days in prayer and fasting. And he would ask the congregation to join him in the enterprise. And for those who are curious, yes, my friend is an Episcopalian!
He asked the members of the congregation (whether they intended to observe the fast or not) to join him for a "season of prayer" in the parish's worship space. He excitedly reported to me the following results:
1. A significant number of people (equivalent to 20% or so of the average Sunday worship attendance) showed up each evening for the hour of prayer.
2. Other people who weren't able to attend the prayer time reported that they took time out of what they were doing to pray (verbally!) for the mission of the parish.
3. Several people actually participated in the fast in some fashion over the three days.
4. Many other people are interested in learning more about the discipline of fasting and my friend is already planning a study of this practice, which will be offered in the fall.
I'll admit it. As I listened to him tell his story, I found myself thinking, "I wonder why the thought of asking people to participate in such a thing never occurred to me?" And let me say, I immediately had plenty of answers to my own question! Some of my answers were vaguely theological, others drifted toward the "rational" and my inner cynic threw in a couple of extra comments to round out my collection.
But the fact remains -- these practices of fasting and prayer are at the bedrock of communal life in the Jewish and Christian traditions. They aren't magic. My friend's congregation didn't hear God's voice audibly telling them what their next initiatives should be. God didn't send them a fax or an e-mail. They are still seeking out "what's next" for their parish. But the work they did together in those three days of fasting gave them plenty of food for thought and a powerful sense of the Spirit's brooding presence -- both in their midst and over their efforts. Something creative is going on in my friend's parish. Something new is about to be born. I can hardly wait to hear what happens next.
As for me, I'm thinking my friend's story might be God's way of telling me to push away a meal or two (or five!) and spend that time nourishing my spiritual self in focused and intentional prayer. I'll keep you posted on what happens.
Last week, I had an engaging conversation with a fellow clergyperson who lives out West. New to the parish he serves (less than a year), the process of figuring out how that particular community of faith will live into its mission/vision occupies a good deal of his (and the parish's) energy. Lots of activity is buzzing about the place. Good turnout to the various liturgies, studies, meetings and fellowship opportunities seems to be the norm. But my friend began to ask the question, "Is all the activity serving a purpose, or is it simply activity for activity's sake?"
Then he came upon an idea. He would spend several days in prayer and fasting. And he would ask the congregation to join him in the enterprise. And for those who are curious, yes, my friend is an Episcopalian!
He asked the members of the congregation (whether they intended to observe the fast or not) to join him for a "season of prayer" in the parish's worship space. He excitedly reported to me the following results:
1. A significant number of people (equivalent to 20% or so of the average Sunday worship attendance) showed up each evening for the hour of prayer.
2. Other people who weren't able to attend the prayer time reported that they took time out of what they were doing to pray (verbally!) for the mission of the parish.
3. Several people actually participated in the fast in some fashion over the three days.
4. Many other people are interested in learning more about the discipline of fasting and my friend is already planning a study of this practice, which will be offered in the fall.
I'll admit it. As I listened to him tell his story, I found myself thinking, "I wonder why the thought of asking people to participate in such a thing never occurred to me?" And let me say, I immediately had plenty of answers to my own question! Some of my answers were vaguely theological, others drifted toward the "rational" and my inner cynic threw in a couple of extra comments to round out my collection.
But the fact remains -- these practices of fasting and prayer are at the bedrock of communal life in the Jewish and Christian traditions. They aren't magic. My friend's congregation didn't hear God's voice audibly telling them what their next initiatives should be. God didn't send them a fax or an e-mail. They are still seeking out "what's next" for their parish. But the work they did together in those three days of fasting gave them plenty of food for thought and a powerful sense of the Spirit's brooding presence -- both in their midst and over their efforts. Something creative is going on in my friend's parish. Something new is about to be born. I can hardly wait to hear what happens next.
As for me, I'm thinking my friend's story might be God's way of telling me to push away a meal or two (or five!) and spend that time nourishing my spiritual self in focused and intentional prayer. I'll keep you posted on what happens.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home