Prayer and Interruption

Devotional Classics, Soren Keirkegaard, excerpts from The Prayers of Kierkegaard

"It is an interruption to our ordinary tasks; we do lay down our work as though it were a day of rest when the penitent is alone before You in self-accusation. This is indeed an interruption. But it is an interruption that searches back into its very beginnings that it might bind up anew that which sin has separated, that in its grief it might atone for lost time, that in its anxiety it might bring to completion that which lies before it." (p. 109)

Usually I try to pray in times and places where I can avoid interruption. Well and good. I don't often see prayer as an interruption.

Here Kierkegaard writes about confession and sorrow. He speaks of a "day of rest" that "searches back" in order that it might "bind up anew" our relationship with God. Conviction from the Spirit is one of the most obvious forms of interruption in my prayers. It can even come unwelcomed, painfully reminding me of things I have overlooked, left undone, or willfully committed. This is one example of prayer as an interruption.

I admire Brother Lawrence in his practice of the presence of God. I have envisioned this practice to be one of a steady flow of conversation between God and myself and others that helps me glide through life. I long for peace and success. Yet, not even Jesus had a completely serene existence. Even his prayer came as an interruption and struggle at least on one occasion: Gethsemane.

Rather than dancing through life with the greatest of ease, I feel I may have more of the look of a drunken sailor. Instead of moving resolutely toward God's will and purpose for my life, I feel I have to do a lot of wandering, backtracking, and trying to find where I put something down. Much of the fault is my own: my own resistance, my own rebelliousness, my own plans, etc. There may be something else, though.

Another factor comes in. This Gethsemane thing. This thing that "threw" Jesus into the wilderness to be tempted by Satan (Mark's word, not mine). This interruption (to put it lightly in some cases). Prayer then becomes the open line to God where he can call us at any moment and change our plans. And some of those calls come at 3 am.

For me, this is decidedly not peaceful. My resistance (ignorance?) can make me do funny things, like start and quit seminary three or four times. Like get cold feet before my wedding. Like move from church to church. Such wandering has always been embarrassing to me. I've often wondered, "Do I really want to serve God? Am I fully surrendered? Maybe I'm just selfish."

There is some relief in this picture of prayer as an interruption. I feel that this picture of a seamless existence of moving from one meaningful moment to the next in perfect communion with God may not be possible or even desirable. There seems to be some room for wilderness wandering. Somehow such wandering does something that my picture of perfect communion can't. It can deepen my confidence in the Lord. It can prepare me to hear God when I couldn't hear him before. It can put to death my resistance and rebelliousness and make me trust him day by day. Sometimes I a gentle colt. More often I'm a stubborn ass.

I may be even so bold as to say communion with God that has no real interruption is not communion with God at all. I find I have been only talking with myself after all. The interruptions are what help me see that thoughts and feeling I encounter have not only been my own. Kierkegaard writes that I need to heed such interruptions and allow them to do their work - like renewing, atoning, and completing - rather than rush away into a false sense of peace.

Lord, whether I find grief and anxiety in this interrupting prayer or joy and ecstasy, let me stay with you. Let me not fall into an uneasy sleep when you are interrupting my life with the command to watch and pray. Such sleep may seem peaceful, but it is really a slow death. No, Lord, I long to keep the line open between us, so that any moment may be transformed and every moment may be eager expectation. You are real! You are here! Let your interruptions come! Amen.

Sometimes I pray and wonder if I should have actually spoken (or written) the words I did. But truly I am eager to let God upset my life. He is gentle and humble in heart and knows that I am dust. I trust his hands. I think to keep the "lines open," I will need to be watchful and not hurried and as always, thoroughly trusting in his abiding love for me and others.