I have a personal relationship with Christ. That is, He and I
talk off and on all day long, inside my head. It's our
relationship - real, alive and very much awake and aware of
my world, the sphere in which I orbit, the daily round of my
private life. I bring Him my needs and my concerns and my
praises. And I try mightily to hear what He is telling me. In
His word, Jesus shows me again and again how to pray in
silent solitude. Then, He shows me how much He wants
community for me.
Christ had a solitary habit of prayer. He knew that in quiet
moments before the Father, all alone, He'd demonstrate for us
how to avoid falling into the traps of spiritual pride, how
to avoid the attention of others as we beseeched the Lord.
When we pray alone, we limit distractions and we aren't
tempted by comparisons or pretenses or ostentatious
hypocrisy. Solitary prayer can be focused and powerful. It's
also readily available. Everyone - even a mom home with half
a dozen little ones - can curl up in a corner somewhere for
at least a hastily offered, "Lord, make haste to help me."
Private prayer is the continuous, every day conversation of
friendship.
But God made us for community, too. He wants us to have a
personal relationship with Him, but He doesn't want it to be
entirely private. The prayer Jesus modeled for us in
perfection begins with the phrase "Our Father," not "my
father." He intended us to pray that prayer often and He
intended us to pray in community.
During Holy Week and Easter Week, in addition to the many
liturgies traditionally prayed by the church community, I
found myself in church to pray - together with many - two
other times. The first was a rosary offered to beg for
healing for one of our own. The second was a rosary offered
for the repose of his soul. Both times, I was struck by the
power of the prayers of those gathered there. Each decade was
led by a different man in the pews. Each time a strong voice
rang out in the otherwise silent church - the anguish of the
one who was beseeching clearly wrapping itself around his
vocal chords - I was struck by the inexpressible comfort that
comes with knowing that someone has come alongside to bear
the burden of praying.
It is critical to "go into your room and shut the door and
pray to your Father who is in secret" (Mt 6:6). It is also
critical not to stay in there with the door shut. Prayer
nurtures in us a spirit of trust in God. Public prayer helps
us to develop trust in one another. Prayer together with
other Christians requires planning and initiative unnecessary
for private prayer. For those of us who are shy and
introverted and very private, the biggest struggle is just
getting there - whether "there" is a church filled with
people or the company of a friend we've asked to pray
alongside us in a time of need. We have to exert the effort;
it's so worth it.
Jesus "took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on
the mountain to pray" (Lk 9:28). He taught them happily when
they asked, "Lord, teach us to pray" (Lk 11:1). He gave them
the communal Our Father. Later, after Jesus dies, they know
how to find Him in prayer, together: "They lifted their
voices together to God" (Ac 4:24) "and when they had prayed,
the place in which they were gathered together was shaken;
and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke the
word of God with boldness (Ac 4:31).
We need each other. We need to gather in His name and beg
grace on behalf of one another. We need to be comfortable not
only saying "Will you pray for me?" but also "Will you pray
with me?" Together, we can push open the floodgates of grace.
Foss, whose website is elizabethfoss.com, is a freelance
writer from Northern Virginia.