I was driving to church for the evening Ash Wednesday service and thinking about what it means to be marked with the cross of ashes and hearing the words, “you are dust and to dust you shall return.” Somewhere along the drive I heard the news about the tragedy in Broward County Florida. My groan was the only prayer I could offer at the time.

 

In 1989 a play, entitled Shadowlands, was written about C.S. Lewis and his brief marriage to Joy. Joy was dying with cancer. There is a poignant scene in the play where a couple of Oxford friends and colleagues to Lewis were discussing the merits of prayer. One professor turns to Lewis and says: “And God hears your prayer, doesn’t he? We hear Joy’s getting better.” Lewis replies: “That’s not why I pray Harry. I pray because I can’t help myself. I pray because I am helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn’t change God. It changes me.” (Shadowlands, p. 81)

 

This week “thoughts and prayers” have been lifted up by politicians, churches, people of faith and, I suppose, people of no faith, on behalf of those directly victimized by the school shooting. We have heard such sentiments before in the aftermath of violence, disaster and tragedy. There is no need to recount them here in this writing.

 

If prayer, in the words attributed to Lewis, is about changing me, I have to ask, “How am I being changed?”

 

I understand that many of us offer our “thoughts and prayers” because we really do not know what else to do. What has happened has happened and no thoughts and prayers will undo the massacre of Parkland or Sandy Hook or Las Vegas or Orlando.

 

Yet something has to change, or our prayers really don’t mean anything. We have to change our bent towards violence as a solution to our problems and as entertainment for our boredom. We have to change our hateful rhetoric and binary divisiveness that fuels a “we versus they” mindset. We have to change how we see our neighbor and stranger, because when someone feels isolated and alone, carnage is the result. We have to change how we think and deal with mental illness. We have ignored or stigmatized mental illness for too long, and the victims are legion. And yes, we have to change our attitude about gun control. As a nation we have placed ourselves in a ridiculous corner, defending assault rifles and the like while innocents die. Of course this is not an exhaustive nor a conclusive list, but change must begin somewhere, or else why do we pray?

 

I am not pretending that my own thoughts and prayers have given me perfect clarity on the issues and now I need to convince others of my “rightness.” I do believe our thoughts and prayers should bring us together that we may strive for the change God most needs. It will not be easy. In fact, it most certainly will mean sacrifice on some level.

 

There is another scene that comes to mind, this one in ancient Scriptures. Jesus kneels in a Garden and prays with tears of blood, asking that the cup pass from him. Yet we read that soon he stands up and walks forward to act on his prayer. This prayer of Jesus moves from praying for deliverance from death, to trust and commitment with God’s participation and providence.

 

Likewise, when we go to Gethsemane our thoughts and prayers must make the necessary movement from deliverance to a call to action. More than ever our prayers need to change us, because God knows we need it.