I try not to be a micromanager. Preparing our worship, inspiring, gathering, inviting into participation is a big part of what I am called to do as a priest. The training we receive in seminary is intended to give us a certain expertise. My writing training has given me certain skills (and ego) to lead our community in prayer.

And yet we have this moment in the middle of our worship that isn’t about my leading us. It is a place in which I hand over that responsibility to others willingly.

Well, mostly willingly.

 

I come from a very liturgical tradition, so our prayers have a certain form of construction. The entire liturgy maintains its own form and structure, moving from one piece of the worship service to the next. The presider or celebrant is the MC or curator of the event, bringing us together, speaking not only to, but with and for the congregation. She has an awesome role and shifts from these different postures throughout the liturgy.

When we get to the Prayers of the People, the priest takes the back seat to a lay member of the congregation. It is this person who leads us through a collection of prayers and intercessions: prayers for all the needs of the world, the local community, and this congregation. It is a beautiful moment of shared responsibility.

More congregation-led churches may not have such a distinction, of course. Others, with a more hierarchical structure, may not encourage a person from the congregation, but a clergy person or a worship leader to lead here.

Our approach has great power, however. Showing a relationship of sharing and deference, of relationship and respect. And most of all, it communicates that all of us are called to pray for the welfare of the community, not just the professional Christians.

Praying

The prayers themselves come in a variety of forms. They can be prayers as we often know them: An asking of GOD to hear us and respond to us, a sharing of a need, then a concluding statement or doxology, and the people say “Amen.” We then may do several of these in a row.

They can be even less interactive. The leader can pray the petitions and leave silence for the people to respond only in their minds.

We have responsive prayers in which the prayer leader offers up a short petition and the people respond in the way the leader directs, such as “Lord have mercy” or “Hear our prayer”. This is perhaps the most versatile form, in part, because it is interactive, but uses repetition to make responding simple.

A more complex prayer form is the Versicle and Response, in which the prayer leader and the congregation trade parts back and forth. This form requires everyone to have their nose in a book or perhaps their eyes on a page or screen to follow along. Some of the most gorgeous prayers are written as versicles and responses, but they require a high level of attentiveness to the function of our praying, rather than investing in the experience itself of praying. In other words, when we have to pay attention to the act of praying it can distract us from fully hearing what we are praying.

A variation of this last form is the litany, in which a person leads the congregation in a longish prayer, spoken or sung, often with set responsive prayers or the versicle and response. These feel extremely formal, but have a majesty or beauty that can really engage our hearts and minds together.

What do we pray?

It seems that form can often outstrip the substance of our prayer. In our Prayer Book, it gives a basic form for writing or spontaneously praying the Prayers of the People, then provides us with six examples of different forms of the prayer. Most of our churches don’t take the preferred option of writing their own; instead using (or adapting) one of the set forms. The rote nature of this practice can strip this moment of its petitional power.

We always pray for

• the poor
• the sick
• imprisoned
• the dying and the dead
• our leaders
• the country
• the church universal

but are these people to us, or concepts? Are we engaged in ministry with these, or is it all theoretical?

Most of us will certainly engage our local needs and ministries, praying for them. Perhaps giving extra attention to our sick or hospitalized or shut-in. I have served churches in which the Prayers of the People felt like Prayers For the People of This Congregation.

This is really the tricky piece for me. These prayers are petitions on behalf of others. But our instructions are to see well beyond ourselves and our best friends, and toward those who are suffering and in trouble. It is to recognize them as equals and the share in our common humanity. We are also called to recognize the system of oppression which burdens them and makes our prayers for them necessary. We are ultimately called to recognize and pray for all creation, not just the people, but all that is our responsibility to protect and preserve and give our love and care for.

So when I pray with my friends, my heart is here and it is far away. It is for us and for all those friends we haven’t met yet.

My critique of the rote approach to the prayers is out of the danger that these are the very things forgotten, ignored, or totally unknown to our people. There are many churches who are busting out incredible praying here. They often take great care to write new ones each week and share them with great hope in the gathered community.

Writing our prayers was my favorite job in seminary. While we all shared in leading worship in every way we could, the Prayers of the People was my favorite. I would write a new set of petitions each time, usually finding a new versicle and response from the psalm. I kept to the form of the Prayer Book, but made the petitions particular to our moment, the needs of the community and the world.

I had so much fun writing and leading these prayers. And based on my adamant belief that the prayers be the people’s, it is the one job I demand someone else do.

Ask Yourself

How do I pray? When I’m alone and starting my day or running around and doing errands, what does my praying actually “look” like? Do I prefer set forms, or is it spontaneous?

How do my people pray? My family, my congregation, my denomination? How do the people pray by themselves and when they get together? Is it the same? If not, how is it different?

Where are those places in which my prayer is too distant from my personal priorities? What would it be to align my life to my prayers?

What are my congregation’s Prayers of the People like? Are they formal? Are they more creative? If they are formal and familiar, how might the people be moved by prayers which are written specifically for Sunday? Or use a different form from which they are used to? Or vice versa? How might the creative church handle a more formal (sung/chanted?) litany?

What happens to us when the people don’t get to pray, but prayers are folded into the priestly prayers? Who do we become?

 

[This is Day 17 of How to start deconstructing church. The next in the series is “Confession”. To start from the beginning, read the introduction here.]