Category: Prayer

  • Thinking Prayer

    Thinking Prayer

    Most people pray – at least in desperate times! but what is prayer about? is it saying prayers in church? or having a conversation with God with whatever words come to mind? or being quiet and somehow peaceful? or crying out for help but struggling for words? Some question the usefulness of prayer when so much war and violence continues, when evil seems to triumph and when prayers are unanswered. Prayer raises questions about what sort of God we pray to: does this God need our prayers? where does Jesus fit in? what about the Spirit guiding us? If we pray then we can’t avoid thinking about prayer. Prayer and thinking go together, both centred on God.

    There are many good books that teach us how to pray but fewer books exploring prayer and thought, the practice of prayer and its links to theology. If you would like a challenge then have a look at Andrew Prevot’s 2015 book Thinking Prayer. To be honest, this is quite an academic work out! It is not a book for the feint hearted or those unwilling to delve into deep philosophical questioning. This will rule most people out! Yet it is a stunning book that faces the hardest questions and seeks positive ways of approaching the task of prayer – prayer that is thinking and transformative. My aim here is to give a summary for those interested, whether or not they take the challenge to read the book for themselves.

    In short, Prevot’s argument is simple: prayer relies on God being bigger than us! God is not just another element in the universe but the creator of all who does not easily fit into our thinking or schemes. This is the source of the great hope that God can bring change into a difficult world, but challenges our tendency to fit God into our busy lives and careful plans and raises other questions. In prayer the trinitarian God is free to speak and act, as indeed are we. Prayer is the interaction of these two freedoms, even if God is greater than us and works in us. This is a free creative work of love which draws us out of ourselves into a damaged world. Prayer shapes our action and thinking and is the vital heart of Christian faith.

    Prevot identifies a number of key crises in the contemporary (modern) world: the tendency to a reduced understanding of God, a simplified god who is easy to dismiss; the construction of idealised patterns of thought that dictate how life should be; and the violence required to sustain such ideals. We struggle as we become more secular in ways that prevent outside critique; we construct competing models of the ideal life that become idols to be defended; and this turns into violence from those in power towards those to see life differently. Given such a world, the question is: how can we live allowing for critique, being less defensive and more generous towards others? The answer Prevot works towards is: we pray.

    This is a summary of his complex argument about metaphysics understood as a rational kind of rational model/science that tries to encompass all, even God. Working against this are the moves to phenomenology and the critical work of Heidegger. Prevot seeks to go beyond Heidegger via Balthasar to suggest the need for a doxological approach to prayer. This prioritises relating to God in terms of glory and the word, often expressed in praise. These are ways of prayer that allow God freedom, a freedom that by nature chooses to listen and engage with creation.

    Prevot’s argument is always careful, detailed and nuanced. Yet he wants to move us from the abstract to think about how we might pray in ways that engage a violent world. He asks: have we thought about Christian nonviolent approaches in the world? have we contemplated what prayer means in relation to the Holocaust? have we asked how for the oppressed, prayer functions to aid the political need for liberation? and what has the black tradition of the spirituals born through slavery to say to us? When prayer becomes most theoretical we are faced with the challenge to learn from those who suffer most, those who often feel our questions most personally. In a violent world there are many who live in faith and prayer and find hope despite desperate situations – might we also learn not to let despair have the last word?

    The hospitality of black spirituality, seen through the lens of James Cone, offers Prevot the hope of a way beyond violence. Prayer seeks the hospitality of God more than the victory of one over another. This reality is beyond us and hence the need for a God who is both beyond us and yet active in all things. It is a challenge to those of us who are white and/or part of the (relatively and historically) powerful in the world. Hope in a violent world might be found as we enter imaginatively into the way the excluded and oppressed see things. We are to join them in prayer for a better, more holy and just world in which the freedom of all can be respected and brought together.

    Prevot provides a manifesto for a certain way of theology, prayer and spirituality. It is an outstanding academic achievement that manages to motivate action. I continue to be inspired by its argument even as I recognise its limitations: its abstract style that seems at odds with its argument; its simplification of ‘metaphysics’ to an easy to critique definition; its limited scriptural engagement; the struggle for ‘doxology’ as praise to embrace lament and human suffering; and the lack of any personal sharing by the author in which this approach to prayer makes sense. We could do with some stories and examples!

    World news present many questions. Prayer doesn’t avoid these but is a way of entering more deeply into the problems with the God who is both above and within all. Prayer stretches our thinking to encompass new insights. Prayer challenges our love for others. Prayer is difficult, yet we can take heart that there are others on the journey. We can learn from both the struggling and the academics. It is worth persevering with both to maintain a sense of freedom and hope in a world that often wants to limit and exclude people.

    Praise God who hears the cries of all people, relates to us and acts through us for the liberation of creation.

    Bibliography: Andrew Prevot, Thinking Prayer, University of Notre Dame, 2015; See also the less philosophical but still academic work of Ashley Cocksworth, Prayer: A Guide for the Perplexed, T&T Clark, 2018.

  • Mysticism in the World

    Mysticism in the World

    I was browsing a second hand bookshop when I came across Simon Critchley’s “On Mysticism.” On reflection, it seemed a very good place to discover a work dedicated to exploring Christian mysticism but from a context outside of church life. Critchley is a professor of philosophy who confesses to an “intense curiosity for religion” despite agreeably spending most of his life in a secular world hostile to religion. Despite the “death of God” Critchley can’t quite escape the sense that there is “something more” than the rational – the ecstatic which is of great value.

    As we might expect of a professor, Critchley has done lots of reading! He draws much from Bernard McGinn’s rich and multi-volume survey of Western Christian mysticism, taking on board the way mysticism combines both theology and experience. At the same time he has a yearning for the classic work of William James that focuses on religious experience. These come together in Critchley’s focus on Julian of Norwich whose early intense experiences of God were followed by years of prayerful and theological reflection. Her shorter and longer Showings are creatively explored with an interest in how God is made visible through experience, how the divine is shown through the material. Critchley takes this further through engagement with Anne Carson, Annie Dillard and TS Eliot. How is it that the mystical experience of the ‘beyond’ results in the most personal of writings yet writings in which the human author seems most transparent and almost disappears? Critchley recognises that the theology of incarnation is key, drawing as it does on a belief in Jesus as fully human and fully divine. This transforms our view of matter and enables us to be immersed in the reality of the world whilst at the same time being immersed in the infinite reality of the divine.

    The impact of this on the understanding of philosophy is important for Critchley who sees philosophers as suffering “a fantasy of return to the origin,” the original texts and ideas, whereas mysticism gives us “an ongoing, transformative history of reception” (255). Philosophy often seeks a total explanation whereas mysticism is built from an abundance of fragments of experience and writings. Critchley argues that philosophers need to stop treating mysticism with distrust and distain but rather allow themselves to be challenged by its immediacy, excess and worldliness. There seems a glimpse of the current Western cultural movement towards a reappreciation of religion.

    However, for Critchley God is still dead. So what is he to do with mysticism? Translate it into forms of aesthetic experience that engage the whole of life, with something critical to communicate to the economics that dominate the world (267-285). There is a perhaps sudden shift here to the post-punk music of Julian Cope, the hearing of which have provided Critchley with mystical experience that combined with thinking brought an “idiot glee,” the “sheer mad joy at the world” that brings “releasement, detachment, enjoyment, peace, and rest” in a challenging world (285). Here is a testimony to the power and hope of mysticism. It may still find it hard to take personal steps to immersion in a known God but it helps clear the way to understanding why such steps are possible and make sense.

    Bibliography

    Simon Critchley, On Mysticism: The Experience of Ecstasy, Profile, 2024

    Rowan Williams, The Meaning of Ecstasy, New Statesman, December 2024. This is a good review of Critchley’s book that reflects more on the nature of ecstasy and ‘decreation.’

    Bernard McGinn, Foundations of Mysticism: Origins to the Fifth Century, Crossroad Publishing, 1991

    William James, Varieties of Religious Experience, 1902

  • Spirit-Led Encounter

    Spirit-Led Encounter

    Looking through my inbox earlier this year I noticed there was a new email which seemed to come from myself! Andrew Lord had email’d Andy Lord and it was a surprise to find that there was someone with the same name living in Australia. What is more, we shared an interest in the work of the Holy Spirit in life and ministry. Andrew had noticed my booklet Living Healing and graciously got in touch. Would I like to chat and perhaps record a podcast? Sounded interesting so we talked and it turns out that Andrew produces a regular podcast on Christian leadership and we had a number of interests in common.

    I have to admit that I do not often listen to podcasts! but with Andrew I discovered they are a good way of exploring the questions that often come up in spiritual life and ministry: What might it mean to be led by the Holy Spirit? How do we live with the awareness of Jesus with us each day? What problems have we faced and how have they shaped us? Which things are vital if we have leadership roles? Our 40 minute edited podcast enabled us to ponder such questions and help us to learn. Why not take a listen and join in our learning?

    https://www.andrewlord.com.au/post/andrew-lord-interviews-andy-lord-a-conversation-about-being-spirit-led

    We learn so much in talking with others about the questions of life and faith. We can see the church as the community of people that live the questions with each other and with God. It is a diverse and dispersed community with many perspectives. Maybe it could be seen as a mix of interacting podcasts through which we are enabled to see things differently and grow in faith. I suppose much of my writing has come out of such conversations and the questions I have been struggling to answer. We need people of different ages and cultures to shape and challenge us if we are to grow more like Jesus.

    To be led by the Spirit is to encounter fresh ideas, opportunities and people amidst the everyday. It is to be drawn into an ever expanding vision of the church as a world-wide community. It is something to pray for and gratefully accept. As John V Taylor put it, the Spirit as the Go-Between God is always connecting us to life in all its fullness and variety to the glory of God. May this podcast help us reflect together on the connections and wisdom we share together.

  • The Importance of Place

    The Importance of Place

    There is great pleasure in the simple five minute walk from our house to the church hall. Past the field which, in spring, sees the central tree surrounded by a circle of yellow flowers and a border of free flowing grass. Alongside the medieval church with its memories and embodied worship; the 1,000 year old yew tree that hints at life stretching further back; and the modern churchyard with chance to meet and chat. Sounds then of children on the playground and glimpses of people focused on their walk to the railway station or army barracks. I find a gentle invitation to be immersed in what is around me rather than on what is next on the todo list.

    Walking requires good pauses and yesterday I found myself chatting with a neighbour about the many people who follow similar walks to myself, if often with dogs or families in tow. We reflected about how at a time of such difficult world news and the many mental health challenges people face, that walks that restore us have become more vital. The area surrounding the church represents the old village of Didcot, a small village of a few hundred people with its church and five surrounding farms. It has a deep time history that is often lost in its busy present reality of a town of 30,000 people. As it grows over the next 15 years to over 60,000 people the contrast between the town as a whole and particular walking spaces will get greater. Maybe around the church and old village there is an oasis of refreshing.

    Particular places to walk, ponder and chat are key to life. Life is not just a generic term but embodied in specific landscapes. We need to be immersed in the living world, not as if we can go anywhere but within the details of the places we can go. It may be our garden; for those in a local care home it is a balcony overlooking a playground; dog walkers might embrace parks and churchyards; longer distance walkers will discover river walks and trails that go back hundreds of years. To limit ourselves to a few places and routes opens up the opportunity of really seeing them, observing the detail, noticing the changing seasons. It is so expand our understanding of life but takes discipline. We have to move, to slow down and observe, to think about what we see and to allow ourselves to simply enjoy being where we are. To stop scrolling and see how much we can see around us.

    Interestingly, these disciplines are similar to those of lectio divina, the traditional form of monastic meditation. This has been focused on reading biblical and other texts – slowing down, reading and re-reading the texts, noticing what stands out, pondering the meaning and in silence simply enjoying being. This is all done within the presence of God whose love is known in joy and amidst sorrow, in words and through silence. So some speak of visio divina, seeing the divine in and through all things. This goes beyond a mindful observation of life to a hearing of God’s gentle voice that might stir our actions, and a Spirit-filled energy in which we find ourselves changing and growing. Life is not static and an immersion in oasis places through walking and pausing meditation opens us to hope for the future.

    In the Gospel of John, Jesus challenges people to see truly. Most people would say that they see the living world and notice the needs of others, but I am too often like those who kept busy and speaking in ways that cover up my blindness to what is around (John 9). It is often those who live with most struggle and limits that can teach us how to see better. So I’m trying to better notice those who can help me to discern God through the living world. I’m trying to seek out the oasis places which open my eyes and heart.

    (c) 2025 Andy Lord

    Further reading: The Franciscan tradition has much to say in how we might be immersed in creation, see the creatively wandering book of Dan Riley & Stephen Copeland’s Franciscan Lectio. A more focused approach is that of Esther de Waal, Lost in Wonder.