We Christians are great at talking a good game, but when it comes to prayer, we fake it more than we’d like to admit.
“Oh man”, I said. “That sounds tough. Well, I’ll be praying for you.” But let’s be honest: I didn’t.
For years, I’ve excused this practice quite easily. “What else am I supposed to do? I’m not a pastor, and frankly, we’re standing in the middle of a crowded room. It’d be a bit weird to kick off a counseling session.”
Would it?
One Monday morning, I walked past the office of my friend Sal. I had just arrived at work and was focused on making it to my desk to start sorting through the deluge of emails I had waiting for me. We chatted for a few minutes and he asked me how I was doing – not as a formality, though – he truly wanted to know how I was doing. It wasn’t in his words, but his tone; even in the raise of his eyebrows.
So I was honest and told him about a minor issue I was dealing with at home. It was a small thing, and in a light conversation like this, I thoroughly expected (and probably would have appreciated) a typical Christian bro-reply: “I’ll pray for you, man.”
As I finished explaining myself and began to back out of Sal’s office, he smiled and simply said: “Well, let’s pray about that.” And we did. In his office. Nothing fancy. He prayed for me on the spot and I went on with my day.
Why was this so surprising? Because no one really does that. And certainly not for such a “minor” issue as I had described to Sal. His actions left me encouraged (and slightly puzzled) the rest of my day.
The following weekend, as our church service was being dismissed, I exited our row and fell in with the swarm of people slowly moving towards the doors. As I shuffled my feet, I looked to my right and saw I was walking beside a friend I hadn’t seen in awhile. “Hey Brian!” I said with a smile. “Hey man!” he replied back with a reciprocal grin.
As we made the 60-second walk to the back of the auditorium, we talked about the weather and made other small talk. But just before the typical “conversation back-out”, I put my arm on his shoulder, stopped walking, and asked: “How are you doing? The truth.”
Brian’s eyes widened – he was experiencing the same shock I had encountered with Sal. He paused, his eyebrows came down from their perch, and he opened his heart.
But he kept his distance. We were, after all, in the middle of a crowded room and we weren’t about to really get into it. He gave me his update and – just as I had done with Sal – began to wrap it up. But my hand went back to his shoulder.
“Can I pray for you?”
“Sure thing,” he replied, probably translating it as we typically do as “Some time this week, I may remember this conversation, and perhaps, maybe, will pray for you.”
“Ok,” I smiled, and bowed my head. And we prayed. Right there in the middle of that crowded room. At church.
In 1 Corinthians 13:1, Paul writes:
If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. (NLT)
For my purposes, I’ll loosely translate this as: “Talk is cheap.” Let’s be honest: a lot of us dole out the “I’ll pray for you” platitude. But as the body of Christ, we’re called to more than just talk – we’re called to act.
Here’s the challenge: the next time you’re tempted to say “I’ll pray for you”, consider praying for them on the spot. Want bonus points? Try praying for someone over text message or on Facebook. Weird? Maybe. But if you truly believe in the power of prayer – that God listens to and acts on our behalf – then what’s stopping you?
It’s weird. It’s powerful. And it just may be exactly what that person needs.
Make this your common practice: Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you can live together whole and healed. The prayer of a person living right with God is something powerful to be reckoned with. James 5:16 (MSG)
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