Because all of our church’s staff works remotely, our church’s main phone number is connected to our cell phones. So, if you call 312-268-5300, you can then dial the extension 101 and it would be sent to my cell phone. In addition, if someone dials “0”, it goes to me so I occasionally take calls from sales people wanting us to buy the latest church curriculum or a person who is in need of financial assistance. I’ll admit that there are days that I let unfamiliar numbers go to voice mail if I’m particularly busy, but I got a call a few weeks ago from a Beverly Hills number. Intrigued, I answered it and then had one of the more interesting conversations in my pastoral career.
My teen years were in the 1980s so I’m dating myself when I say the woman on the other line sounded a little like Moon Unit Zappa in the song “Valley Girl.” I couldn’t quite figure out why she was calling, but finally it was clear that she wanted prayer. She said she was indeed calling from California and said that the people in California don’t pray correctly. She said she found us on Yelp and that she was having a hard time and needed money. She said she called churches near her and that they did pray for her, but it would only make her feel good for a short amount of time. She continued by saying that was just sure that *my* prayer would be the one to take care of all her needs.
I was open to praying for her, but I also tried to gently explain to her that prayer wasn’t magic, that even though I believe that prayer makes a difference, I couldn’t guarantee that all her problems would disappear simply by my praying.
“You’re wrong!” she started to argue with me. “You’re wrong. If you really believe in what you’re praying, then it will happen. That’s what Jesus said.” (Perhaps she was referring to Jesus’ comment in Matthew about having the faith of a mustard seed and being able to move mountains).
Again, I tried to say that prayer is more mysterious than that, but she wasn’t having any of it. She finished by saying, “Aren’t you in the city where Oprah is? If you don’t believe this, I don’t want to talk to you.” *Click*
I held the phone and was speechless for a short while. It was one of the most surreal experiences I’d ever had. A stranger asks for prayer, calls on Jesus and Oprah in equal measure, and than brushes me aside when I don’t subscribe to her gospel. I found myself wondering if I had been pranked and also wondering if I had responded well.
I send an email to other members of my staff along the lines of, “You’ll never believe what this woman said to me…” but as I reflected further on the unpredictability of prayer and the many answers to the timeless question, “Does prayer ‘work'”, I found myself admiring her, rather than criticizing her. I really don’t know her full theology of prayer because we only spoke for a few minutes, but she did one thing that too few of us do ourselves: She asked.
One of the very first steps of authentic prayer is putting yourself into a place of vulnerability, acknowledging you are not God, you do not have all the answers, and you need help. Sometimes these prayers evoke praise and awe, sometimes tears and lament, sometimes desperate pleas. But prayer often begins with humility.
So to this Beverly Hills young woman, I’m sorry if I was defensive or not the listening ear you needed. I probably should pray about it.