Prayer: A Slow Conversation

Of all the beings in J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, the Ents are my favorite. They're trees–trees that move, and who have lived for thousands of years, trees that shepherd and protect other trees. They're trees, trees that talk–v e r r y   s l o w l y.Entish, the language of Ents, is a non-hasty language, to use Tolkien's words. This is, of course, very frustrating to Merry and Pippin, the two hobbits who have happened into a friendship with Treebeard, the aged leader of the Ents. The Hobbits have to sit through a days-long meeting of Ents, irked because it is taking so long (several hours just for all the birches and beeches and oakes and ashes to say good morning) and danger is nearby, danger that the Ents could help with, if they would just get on with it and decide something. Which they do, e v e n t u a l l y, after a long meeting–because Entish is not a hasty language.And neither is prayer. I think this is a big part of my life-long frustration with it. Prayer is learning God's language, and joining in on the eternal conversation that is at the heart of God's life. I want to be a part of this conversation, but I also want it to keep pace with my life, to have the same tempo of my tempo-rary existence, to carry the sense of urgency I have about what is happening, or not happening, within the oh-so-important domain of my needs and wants. And so I get frustrated with my divine Conversation Partner, with the pace of it all, with the subject matter (I want to hear something substantial at 6 a.m. when I sit with a cup of coffee trying to wake up and pray, and sometimes God simply wants to say, "Good morning"). I get frustrated,  and then, sometimes, I hear God say, in a Treebeardish voice, "D o n ' t  b e  s o  h a s t y."God's language is non-hasty for two reasons. First, it is meant for a conversation that has been going on for, well, er, ever. The Christian tradition understands God to be a God who has always been in relationship as Father, Son, and Spirit. Before there was a universe, before there was any Bang, there was this God, in relationship, existing in conversation (as is profoundly pictured in Rublev's famous icon of the Trinity). The divine conversation is a l  o  n  g conversation. Ever noticed how much easier it is to have a substantial talk when you have a 12 hour road trip in front of you instead of an hour at Starbucks? Imagine the depth of a conversation that could occur during eternity. Duration matters, and the divine conversation has no time limits. God is not in need of haste, and God's language reflects this.Second, the conversation that is in God, and that we are graciously invited to share in, is mostly about listening. Dan Rather once interviewed Mother Teresa. He skeptically asked her about prayer, saying, "When you pray to God, what do you say?" She answered, "I don't say anything; I listen." Frustrated with this unexpected and unhelpful response, Rather pressed: "Well, what does God say?" Cracking just a hint of a mischievous smile, Teresa explained: "He doesn't say anything; He listens."A strange conversation indeed, this conversation called prayer, so well practiced by Teresa, as evidenced by her life. And of course it is going to be slow, if it is mostly, or even entirely, about listening. Listening always takes time, which is why it rarely happens. I get frustrated with God because God isn't saying anything. Maybe God is not saying anything because God is listening, and hoping that I would learn to do the same.  Hoping, too, that I would learn the eternal pace of an eternal conversation, a conversation which is deeper than can be imagined, for it is unbounded, having no beginning and no end.And so, I will try not to be so hasty. I will smile at my own frustration, knowing that this is likely God's response to my impatience. I will listen, and then listen some more. I will pray with my coffee cup filled and my Bible open, for the latter is the lexicon of the long language of the Lord. Having been invited, I will pull up a chair to the table of the triune God, and I will try to have the humility of one who is joining a conversation, not starting it. In a hasty world I will be a contrarian, and learn this non-hasty way of talking which leads to a non-hasty way of being, a way of being that stewards God's patience and power. I will pray, for how else can I live, and love, and serve?