The Movement from Illusion to Prayer

As many of you know, I'm an Anglican priest who serves under two bishops: Archbishop Robert Duncan (Archbishop of ACNA and Bishop of Pittsburgh) and Bishop George Katwesigye (Bishop of Kigezi). With regard to the former, one of the encouraging things that the Diocese of Pittsburgh does is send out a weekly email called the Pittsburgh Advance.  This brief newsletter includes writings from different folks in the diocese (most often the wonderful Rev. Canon Mary Hays) that provide various insights and encouragement.  I was given the opportunity to submit something on prayer that has been working inside me for a while.  You'll find it below.

The Movement from Illusion to Prayer

The Rev. Travis Hines, Missionary in Uganda

Living cross-culturally is a painfully effective way of shredding the illusion of control.  All our ideas, learning, and skills seem irrelevant in the rub against the grind of daily living and the subtle but radically different worldview of the people we live among.  Confused and weary, we are then confronted by the persistent knocking on our door -- strangers and acquaintances insisting on help with school fees, weddings, funerals, sickness, transportation, business ventures, food....  When do we say yes?  When do we say no?  How can we help?

In the beginning, there were far too many times I said "yes" to the demands for our money and time.  Why?  Because I felt compelled to do something, to make some sort of a difference.  I felt like I had the responsibility and the power to effect change in a person's life.

That was an illusion.

My time, my money, my words, my efforts -- none of it produced the needed change in anybody's life.  I don't have that kind of control or that kind of power.  I don't even have that responsibility.

Instead, what I have begun to do is say to the person standing on our porch, "We don't give money.  That's not why we're here.  But I will pray."  And then I put my hand on the person's shoulder, and we bow our heads.  I always begin with silence, listening.  Quietly I ask the Father what he is doing.  And I wait.  Then I begin to pray out loud, and often I'm surprised at the words that come...and the difference the prayer makes. It is in that moment of helplessness and being overwhelmed in the face of unyielding need that I've discovered the freedom and power of moving from illusion to prayer (to use a phrase from Henri Nouwen).  I have nothing in word or deed that can effect lasting change, but I do have a relationship with Jesus, with the Lord who is present and is in control, and who is giving his Spirit to bring comfort, counsel, and change.

As I follow the news of Pittsburgh from afar, I think of all the helplessness and the overwhelming situations that you face.  It is a painful, fearful time, yet it is also an opportunity to be stripped of illusion and clothed with prayer.  In embracing such an opportunity, "we convert our protest against the absurdities of the human existence into a prayer lifting us beyond the boundaries of our existence to him who holds our life in his hands and heart with boundless love and mercy" (Nouwen, Reaching Out, p. 131).