on Intercessory Prayer

Likewise the Spirit also helpeth our infirmities: for we know not what we should pray for as we ought: but the Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. (Romans 8:27)

I am not very good at intercessory prayer. I end up feeling guilty much of the time, thinking of all the people I should be praying for, and all the people I forget to pray for, especially all the people that I have told “I'll pray for you,” and then I've forgotten to do so.

There are a number of problems with intercessory prayer. First, what good does it do?

I have a friend, Byron C. Bangert, who is a genuine Liberal Theologian. I owe him much, because when Byron was a young clergyman, he took a chance on hiring an untidy-looking young pianist who said he knew nothing about playing the organ, but thought he might be able to learn how. We have remained friends through all these years, as his theology has grown steadily more liberal and mine more Catholic and (in many ways) conservative.

Bangert wrote a book in 2006 ["Consenting to God and Nature,” a book which I heartily recommend]. In part, it is about this very question: What good does it do? If one believes as he does:

As a first step, I will endorse the understandings of the natural world that come to us from contemporary science, in particular, the view that there are no exceptions to the universality and inviolability of the causal nexus that is constitutive of all events.

then how could any prayer ever be answered? In short: God is not only unwilling to act in human or natural affairs by doing such things as, for example, raising his Son from the dead on the third day; God is unable to do so in a direct way (as Bangert expands upon later). More precisely, God is not omnipotent in the traditionally recognized sense; instead, God works (and can only work) through the existing natural laws revealed by modern science, and through the volition of those who are willing to work with him. It seems to me that this is refuted by the Argument of Anselm: one can easily imagine a God who can suspend the natural laws, and such a God would be greater. I am confident that Bangert would disagree.

He espouses Process Theology as a way for God to interact with the universe, positing a God who is panentheistic. When I first saw this word, I thought it was a misprint for “pantheistic”; it is not. Instead, panentheism claims that God contains the world but is not identical with it. It denies that the world is something that God “made.” The universe is not identical with God, but God cannot exist without the universe. Although, in my view, there are serious problems with Process Theology, it does offer a way for God to answer prayer. God can “persuade” agents who possess free will to do things His way. And in this view (based on the philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead), everything down to the subatomic particles has a degree of free will appropriate to its mode of being. So, if God wanted to do something that appears to be in violation of natural laws, all he has to do is ask, and if enough things are willing to cooperate, the “miracle” would take place.

When I first read of this (again, in Bangert's book; I had been innocent of these ideas before), I was intrigued. I could well imagine the atoms and molecules hearing God's voice and joyfully obeying his every wish, and far more reliably than humans have done. All of a sudden, anything was possible: “Is there any thing too hard for the Lord?”, as the angel said. I still suspect that there might be some truth in here, somewhere, but I do not think that the current formulation is correct.

For example, I am unable to accept that God does not exist apart from the universe. I toyed with the idea that he did, at the beginning, exist on his own, and created the universe as something to which he was no more directly related than an author to his story. But by means of the Incarnation, he irrevocably tied himself to this universe by his free choice. There is a real person, a flesh-and-blood Homo sapiens who was “born of a woman” in a particular time and place into this particular universe, who is now and for ever inseparably a part of the Godhead.

I broached these ideas to Byron in a long letter; he responded at equal length saying that this is completely incompatible with Process Theology, as are the concepts of the Incarnation and the Trinity. Jesus did not have two natures (the “hypostatic union,” as I believe it is called); he was simply a human who completely lived what he said in the Garden: “Not my will, but thine be done.” From beginning to end, his will was perfectly aligned with the Father's. While this, also, is true as far as it goes, I think that it is not the full picture. I think that it is equally true that “the Word was made flesh.”

My point, after this long digression, is that by whatever means, I do believe that God can answer prayer, even if it means acting contrary to the laws of physics, biology, and the other sciences. I remain agnostic as to just how this works, but I accept the evidence – most of all the Resurrection -- as convincing proof.


A second problem:

As noted, I forget to pray for people that need prayer, and that I ought to be remembering, and then beat myself up with guilt for forgetting them. This is, in the end, a statement of finitude. I cannot pray for everyone who needs prayer, any more than I can help everyone who needs help. I can, at best, tackle a microscopic sliver of these tasks. But we know someone who does not forget even the smallest sparrow, and who is unwilling for any of his sheep to perish:

. . . this man, because he continueth ever, hath an unchangeable priesthood. Wherefore he is able also to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them. (Hebrews 7:24-25)

Our intercessions, as inadequate as they are, become part of his perfect intercession. Our intercessory prayers are “through Jesus Christ our Lord.” And so long as that is true, they will be heard. If I forget to pray for someone, He doesn't.


A final problem: What to pray for?

“Even the wise do not know all ends,” as (I think) Gandalf said. When someone is sick (for example), is it really best to pray for healing? Might not the illness be a means of grace for the person bearing it? Some of mine have been so. Yet, we do have an Example telling us to ask for specific needs that we have: “Give us this day our daily bread.” Further, people came to Jesus seeking very specific help for themselves and others. So, when someone is sick, I do pray that God will heal them, and likewise for any other difficulty. When I hear or read of someone in need, I pray for them right then, and every time that they come back to mind. I try not to worry about the times that they do not come back to my mind; as noted previously, I trust our Lord Christ with that. I trust the Father who gives every good gift to refrain from giving us what we ask when something other would be of more benefit. I further trust the “groanings which cannot be uttered” of the Spirit to express what I cannot, or dare not, say.

But more and more, my prayers tend to take the form of “Remember ______ .” As the Quakers say, I “hold them to the Light,” and trust that God will know how best to address their need.

Seeing then that we have a great high priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession. For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need (Hebrews 4:14-16)

[Footnote: For a much better treatment of this subject, see “Letters to Malcolm, chiefly on Prayer,” by C.S. Lewis. Some people consider it to be his finest book.]