What are we doing when we pray? Part two:

Part Two: When we pray—and nothing seems to change

We cannot always see what God is doing.
But we must also acknowledge plainly when the healing or relief we sought has not come.
My childhood friend John died in his twenties.
After his sister’s wedding, he caught what seemed to be a cold.
His health then deteriorated drastically. He was diagnosed with Goodpasture syndrome, which affected his kidneys, and underwent peritoneal dialysis.
It was painful to see this handsome, intelligent young man suffering while trying to remain positive.
I prayed. Friends prayed. Parents prayed. Parishes prayed.
John steadily grew worse….The prayers increased… Still, he worsened.
Then he died.
Family and friends were devastated.
I remember sitting numb in a chair at the funeral home, looking at my pal, John.
Had we not prayed enough? Had we prayed wrongly? Were we all too sinful for God to hear us and spare his life?

Some people would tell us that we should not ask such questions: “Just let God be God. His will shall be done.”
They may intend to encourage trust.
But telling someone not to bring their questions to God can leave them alone with their grief.
The Psalms themselves ask, “How long, O Lord?”
Christ wept at the tomb of His friend Lazarus.
We can bring our questions before God without presuming that we can explain His ways.

Christ invites us to ask.
Prayer is a real encounter with God, and our petitions genuinely matter.
We ought not reduce prayer to an exercise that merely changes our attitude.
Prayer chains can express this confidence and our care for one another.
In our parish, one person calls another, who calls others, until the whole parish is praying for someone.
I remember a dear parishioner from Singhampton who was among the first people I would call when things were going sideways.
Florence B., a faithful sister in Christ—a “prayer warrior.” Grant her rest, O Lord, and may her memory be eternal.
There is something deeply good in knowing that another person will faithfully bring your need before God.
Such intercession helps us bear one another’s burdens.
Yet numbers, eloquence, and intensity do not give us control over God.
Neither ought an unwanted outcome become an accusation against someone’s faith!
John’s death did not establish that we had prayed too little or loved him inadequately.

St James writes: “The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.” —James 5:16, KJV
Righteousness does not mean being flawless or possessing holiness independently of God.
Righteousness involves living in His grace, turning from sin, and growing in faithfulness to Him.
As we grow in communion with God, our desires and prayers are increasingly shaped by His love.
This is why the Church treasures the intercession of the saints.
But holiness does not give anyone command over God’s action!
James points to Elijah, reminding us that he was a human being who shared our frailty.
Elijah prayed concerning the rain, and God acted.
The power belonged to God; Elijah’s prayer genuinely mattered.
“Availeth much” gives us reason for confidence in prayer….this does not mean that every requested outcome is guaranteed.
Notice, too, the setting of these words.
James speaks of suffering, calling for the elders of the Church, prayer and anointing, confession, forgiveness, and healing.
He describes a community bringing its sickness and sins before God.
We are encouraged to pray for one another.
We are not given a technique for securing whatever outcome we specify.

Jesus tells the parable of the persistent widow to encourage His disciples to pray and not lose heart.
God is not a reluctant judge whom we must wear down. We can keep coming because He hears us and cares for us.
In Gethsemane, Christ brings His anguish and His petition to the Father.
He asks that the cup might pass from Him, and freely offers His obedience.
His suffering is real. So is His trust.
“Thy will be done” belongs within honest prayer and does not require us to suppress our grief or pretend that we have no desires.
St Paul asked three times for his “thorn in the flesh” to be taken away. The answer he received was:
“My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness.” —2 Corinthians 12:9, KJV
Paul’s affliction was not removed as he had asked.
Yet Christ’s grace sustained him, and Christ’s power was at work in his weakness.
This does not explain every unanswered petition.
This does show that continuing affliction is not proof that prayer has failed or that God has abandoned the person praying.

There are prayers whose answers we receive with joy.
There are others we carry for years.
And there are losses for which we will find no satisfying explanation in this life.
We ought to be careful about explaining someone else’s sorrow.
“You needed more faith” can wound a person already struggling to pray.
Even “God has a plan” can become a way of ending a conversation when love requires us to stay and listen.
We may still ask plainly: “Lord, bring healing. Restore this relationship. Help us.”
We may also say: “I do not understand. I am tired. Help me to trust You.”
We bring our desires and our hurt into the care of the Father whom Christ has made known to us.

When someone cannot find the words, the Church can pray with them and for them.
We can sit beside them, bring a meal, offer a ride, or keep the promise to call.
Our intercession ought to make us more attentive to the person for whom we pray.
Our hope also reaches beyond the healing we seek in this age.
Christ Himself entered death and rose again.
We await the resurrection of the dead and the life of the age to come.
That hope does not make John’s death any less grievous, but suely means that death does not have the final word.
Prayer matters because the living God hears us and acts.
We do not command His action, and we can’t always recognise God’s action in us or another.
Yet through Christ we are invited to keep coming to Him, even with our grief and unanswered questions.
For today, bring Him the petition you have almost stopped mentioning. You need not dress it in confident language.
“Father, this still hurts. This is still what I long for. Help me. Help us.”
That, too, is prayer.

Questions for Reflection
Have I ever treated an unwanted outcome as evidence that I—or someone else—did not pray well enough?
What request have I become reluctant to bring before God?
When someone is suffering, do I rush to explain, or am I willing to listen and stay?
What practical act of care could accompany my intercession this week?

Prayer
Heavenly Father, You know those for whom we pray and the sorrows we struggle to put into words.
Give us courage to ask, patience to persevere, and grace to trust You with what we can’t understand.
Bring healing to the sick and comfort to those who mourn. When others are weary, make us faithful companions.
Keep us from adding blame to their suffering. Through Your Son, who died and rose again,
hold us in the hope of the resurrection and teach us to love faithfully today. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.