Relational Theology and Prayer

Earlier this month as part of a meeting of my church's Elder Board, my pastor gave us all an assignment - to read the first section of a book by Tim Keller on prayer.  This will likely form part of a sermon series coming up, so it's good for the Elders to be aware of the thrust the pastor will take in future sermons.

Keller is a pastor of a contemporary church in NYC, plus a favorite author, and so I was expecting a fresh take on this venerable topic. Unfortunately, it sounded much like everything else I've ever read on prayer:  1) it's important to do, 2) it's hard to do, 3) the greatest saints in history have struggled with prayer because often God seems absent, 4) it takes a dutiful, disciplined approach to it to successfully work through those silent periods, and 5) eventually, you will break through from duty to delight.

[Sigh]  Same old, same old.

There is something wrong with this picture.

And here's what I think it is.  In Evangelical Christianity, we often say that "Christianity isn't a religion, it's a relationship."  And yet, we approach prayer without treating it like one treats communication within an intimate relationship.  We rarely experience that item 5 part in the prior paragraph, that "delight" part, even though it's pretty typical of an intimate relationship.

If our faith is indeed a relationship, with the God of the Universe no less, who knows us more intimately than anyone else, and who despite knowing us perfectly, sins and all, still invites us to see Him as our Heavenly Father and ourselves as His children, through our faith in Jesus Christ as Saviour, then ...

why is that relationship characterized by hard work, duty, discipline and absence when it comes to communication between God and us? Why isn't it like other intimate relationships we have?  

If God is "personal" and "immanent" (as the New Testament teaches), then why isn't our relationship with Him characterized by the kind of lively and easy back and forth that we have with those we've known a long time and who are dear to us?  Yes, God is sovereign, King of the Universe, and deserves awe & respect; but if we are invited to "come boldly before the Throne of Grace" (Heb. 4:16), as if we naturally belong there as children of that King, then why such an emphasis on ritual, form, structure, habit, instead of the freewheeling nature of kids with their parents, who come bouncing into Daddy's office eager to ask Him for something they need?

This morning at church I was captivated by a word picture contained in the Call to Worship.  The associate pastor said this: "the Lord stoops to receive the love of our hearts. He calls us to remember the depth of his love for us in Christ." Immediately I saw in my mind's eye a picture of my children when they were each 4, 5 years old, calling out "Daddy!" when I would come home, running toward me for an embrace. I would literally "stoop to receive" their love, scoop them up in my arms and whisper "do you know how much I love you?" in their ears, literally "calling them to remember" the depth of my love for them. So I can understand the perspective of the Father doing this for us, as dearly loved children. How beautiful a picture! And what a blessing it was to me to share those moments.

The next thought, though, was this: do I have that same anticipation in MY heart, show that same childlike joy on MY face, at the thought of seeing and communing with my Heavenly Father? Am I like that little child running to his Daddy to hug and be hugged? Do I bless Him in that way, like my children blessed me?  (well ... at least, the way they did before they hit Middle School!  Now, as grown adults, they bless me in other ways.)

Gentle reader, think of your most intimate and lengthy relationships. Isn't communication there the most natural thing in the world?  You talk about anything and everything, there's no "system" for it, no "ritual" to it, no prescribed time and place and posture which must be kept rigidly for it to "work".  It's both purposeful and spontaneous, regular and sporadic, expected and unexpected.  It's a whisper in your ear at a movie theatre, or a knowing look that says volumes, a pair of stifled chortles at something you find funny, a nudge of the elbow or a squeeze of the hand.  You share your dreams, you wonder out loud, you point and say "look at that!", you email, you text, you clip a news article to show later, you read aloud a passage from a book you're buried in.  Communication just "happens", naturally.

So why all the fuss about prayer, that it's so hard, and you need techniques and tips and scheduling to help you with it?  Shouldn't it instead be essentially the same dynamic communication found in any other intimate and loving relationship you have?

And if it isn't...

why isn't it?

Features of Relational Ethics

No man is an island,

Entire of itself;

Every man is a piece of the continent,

A part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea,

Europe is the less.

As well as if a promontory were.

As well as if a manor of thy friend's

Or of thine own were:

Any man's death diminishes me,

Because I am involved in mankind,

And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;

It tolls for thee. 

----- Meditation XVII, 1624, John Donne

Last time, I used the full work from which the above excerpt comes to argue for humanity being essentially relational, and that Relationality is developed prior to both Reason and Faith.  Here, I lay out some key features of an Ethic of Relationship, as well as show the similarity of those features to other ethical systems and perspectives:

1) Homo Sapiens is a strongly social species (an argument similar to those used in both Natural Law and Virtue Ethics, namely: that which is "hard-wired" into us is part of our essential nature and should inform what is morally good)

2) Our well-being is enhanced through healthy (read: mutual, balanced) relationships  (an argument from consequences, similar to Descriptive Egoism and Utility Theory, plus a definition of "healthy" drawn from the Golden Mean of Virtue Ethics)

3) Relationships often result in a collective benefit as well as an individual benefit  (an argument often used in Relational Altruism - one gains personally from caring for others, due to the quid pro quo received in return)

4) The closer (more secure & intimate) the relationship, the greater the mutual benefit  (Ethical Egoism argues for positive impact on self and our loved ones being the primary goal of ethics)

5) Therefore, the best moral choice in a given situation is that which most improves (least damages) my relationships, especially the closest ones.

In a future post, I'll expand on these, but for now, that's the concept: a blend of the major ethical systems, taking cues from each, but with a central focus on our relationships.