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by
MALCOLM BOYD
Remember the old axiom that there aren't any atheists in foxholes?
Today it seems we're all in the trenches of a sophisticated, ongoing
kind of everyday warfare, forged of the rapid acceleration of the
pace of living, personal and social crises, economic dilemmas, and
menacing threats to security. In my view, more of us than we realize
actually pray at work, at home, driving in our car on a freeway.
Many are completely unaware of doing so. Some might be embarrassed
if they acknowledged it. Yet there are numerous areas in our lives
in which we have small but surprisingly meaningful encounters with
God.
Let's look at a few examples.
Money, for one. Ann used to ask a playful, fantasy pseudo-deity
(akin to a plastic doll depicting a god): "Please tell my very rich
great-aunt to leave it all to me! The big house, the car, that great
jewel collection, and naturally the money portfolio. I don't need
or want anything more than that because I'm basically just a simple
person. Not grasping. Innocent. All I want is meat and potatoes."
Apparently this didn't register with God. Ann's rich great-aunt
didn't leave her a dime. But, more the point, Ann discovered that
her prayer was answered. Not her way. God's way. Ann underwent a
change or transformation. Not that she wished to, but one day it
dawned on her that she no longer had that fantasy about a lot of
money anymore. Not long afterward, she even gave a substantial amount
to a close friend who badly needed it. (Not loaned; it was a gift.)
Was she out of her mind? Quite the contrary. Something profound
happened to Ann when she experienced God in the down-to-earth, very
practical arena of money, and prayed that prayer.
You see, God took Ann's prayer (and Ann) seriously. God realized
this offered Ann an opportunity for spiritual growth. Ann asked
God to come into her life, although she was clearly unaware of the
dynamics involved. However, God was aware.
William got into trouble or found lasting life-affirming answers
for himself by praying: "Please give me perfect foreplay, perfect
sex, a perfect orgasm and, of course, love." That's all William
wanted. No involvement, no commitment, no responsibility, no significant
change in his life. You can probably guess what happened.
His prayer was answered, and more. Love crept into his life. Spiritually,
physically, mystically, and pragmatically. William became a changed
man. His first reaction was panic: Get me outta here! I can't handle
this! Talk about stupid mistakes! Yet underneath his resistance,
he knew that he really yearned for the ability and grace to make
a genuine commitment. (He wondered: "How could anyone as selfish,
self-centered, and complex as me engage in a loving, mutual, and
liberating relationship?)" By God's action, he found out.
Driving her car to work on an expressway, all Shirley used to want
was to get there in the quickest way possible, find immediate parking,
and be spared any extraneous human contact. Just leave it to the
machines, was her maxim. Actually, that was her prayer.
God answered the prayer one morning when another driver averted
a disastrous accident in traffic and saved Shirley's life. How?
By a deliberate act of will, caring, and being human. So, Shirley
learned, traffic wasn't just a game of machines. People mattered.
She hadn't understood that driving a car in traffic is as intricate
an exercise, and requires as much loving care, as dancing a ballet.
Experiencing God in traffic taught her as much as Sunday School
ever did.
When Paul had no idea he was praying and would never have related
the idea of prayer to the office where he worked he used to pray:
"Please keep the boss away from me, control the staff meeting (make
it mercifully short), wipe out my enemy in the next office, give
me, give me, give me, and save me."
Well, God did. Paul's boss became a friend. (Remember: God answered
Paul's prayer in God's way). Staff meetings assumed legitimate meaning,
were sometimes fun, and grew longer. Paul gave up on office politics.
(Was he simply getting smart?) His enemy and he sat down quietly
over lunch one day, said what the hell are we doing to each other,
and made peace. So, yet another prayer was answered in the trenches
not Paul's way, but God's.
May I share with you a personal story about an encounter I had with
God that's similar to these others? Walking in a city one afternoon,
I saw a church and decided to go inside for a moment's meditation.
It was very quiet. Before long I became aware of a figure standing
in the church entrance. He or she resembled a homeless person and
was attired in rags.
Suddenly it occurred to me: This was a Christ figure. What should
I do? Hand the person money? Kneel for a blessing? Respect this
person's privacy? Invite this man or woman to join me for a meal?
However, before I had a chance to make a move, the figure turned
and left.
I prayed: "God, I don't understand what's going on. What can I do?"
I believe the answer to that prayer lies in the fact that I've ever
since experienced a sense of the presence of Christ in strangers.
This has changed my life by opening me to the reality of relating
to other people on an entirely different basis. There is a sacredness
to other men, women and children.
Over the years, and in innumerable experiences, I realize another
change has come over me. Gradually I've learned to differentiate
between God's answers to my prayers, on the one hand, and what I
thought I'd wanted, on the other.
I'm in the trenches of life just as much as you are. I try to be
aware of God's presence with me, especially in places and moments
when it would be very easy to say God is far away.
Malcom
Boyd writes for Spirtuality & Health
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