River Current: The Physics of Prayer
Most religious traditions affirm the practice of prayer. But have you ever thought deeply about how prayer works?
Do we think there’s a man up in the clouds who hears our prayers and decides whether or not to grant them? Why do we need to pray over and over for something—why isn’t once enough? Why do we pray at all if God already knows our thoughts and desires? Do we think God will be more likely to grant our prayers if we pray for something fervently and repeatedly? Are we trying to prove to God how important something is to us by praying so hard? Are we trying to control God?
Much of that sounds like the Prosperity Gospel and seems to go against the Protestant notion of works-based righteousness. We can’t earn God’s favor or work hard to deserve a reward in the form of an answered prayer. It also seems to turn God into an unpredictable genie who sometimes grants wishes and sometimes doesn’t.
So what exactly does prayer accomplish? How does it “work”?
River Current
I liken the spiritual life to the current of a river. Okay, that sounds cliché, but hear me out:
We are born into this river and that’s where we live our lives. It is all around us, and it has energy and movement. Like a person swimming in the river, we are a part of it and yet also have some autonomy. Life and all the world we know are like the river itself. The Spirit is the current of this river.
We have the ability to either swim with the flow of the current or against it.There are things we can do—or things that can happen to us—to align ourselves more closely with the Spirit.
Religious traditions have identified methods that can put us more or less in line with the current of the river. These include prayer, meditation, academic study, works of charity, artistic pursuits, our daily labors, our family, friendships, community involvement, our humility, our poverty and our passions.
When we are moving with the current, we seem to swim more easily, cover more ground and do what we are meant to be doing. When we fight against it, it’s sometimes dangerous and sometimes not dangerous—but it’s a lot of effort with perhaps little gain. We’re out of sync.
We don’t control the river, but we can make ourselves more receptive to it.And sometimes the river will simply move us no matter what we do. Call it grace.
The current can also be dangerous—a long tradition of martyrs witnesses to this.
Maybe this is not an original thought—saying that the Spirit is like a river is borderline cliché, after all. How many of you reading this have Garth Brooks’ The Rivergoing through your mind right now? But it feels new to me if we apply this metaphor of the river specifically to spiritual practices. It’s a way to understand prayer. It’s a way to understand religion. It’s the physics of prayer and other spiritual practices.
Intercessory Prayer
A lot of people reject the notion of the power of intercessory prayer, saying—if there is a God, how can we pretend to control God through our petitions?
A common response to this is: Prayer changes the one who prays more than it commands the activity of God.
Pope Francis seems to be echoing these thoughts with his quote: “You pray for the hungry. Then you feed them. That’s how prayer works.”
This is one of my all-time favorite Francis quotes. He has an ultra-earthy spirituality that I just love. It’s a spirituality so concrete it sounds like atheism. It is deeply incarnational. He is challenging anyone who has lulled themselves into a false reassurance that the passive action of praying for the hungry is actually going to somehow bring food to their mouths. That is not nearly enough. I don’t think he is saying that prayer itself isn’t enormously beneficial, I just think he’s suggesting that if all you are doing for the hungry is praying for them, that’s not exactly bringing your ‘A’ game by any stretch. Prayer changes the person praying. It may do other things, as well, but changing the person praying may be its primary outcome.
The Physics of Prayer
Prayer changes us, but not just our attitudes—it’s more about energy. When we pray, we turn toward the current and allow it to carry us—like a sunflower that turns toward the sun. We vibrate at the same frequency of the Spirit. Or at least, we tune ourselves to harmonize with the Cosmos better. Prayer—and other spiritual practices—help align ourselves to go with the current rather than against.
Instead of resisting the current, attempting to muddle along inch-by-inch through our own power, we instead submit ourselves to the current first. Then our efforts are supported and encouraged by the momentum we have put ourselves in line with. It’s the same spiritual energy that gave birth to us and which is our ultimate end. After all, we’re born into this river and we’re going with it whether we like it or not. It’s all that there is.
There are many mini currents and eddies in the river, but with prayer we are attempting to tune into the deepest, most fundamental rhythm. Prayer brings us into a resonance with the deepest, life-giving wavelengths of the universe. It does not just change our attitude or direct our awareness, both of which are good, impactful things—it causes us to vibrate at a different frequency. Once we are vibrating at a different frequency, the world around us changes, too, because we will then be drawing other people, activities and things that resonate with our new vibrations.
Imagine yourself a street musician. If you play sad songs, you might invite the tears of those who pass by. If you play happy songs, you may find yourself surrounded by happy people dancing. If you align yourself with the deepest currents of the universe—the deepest of which is love, according to all the mystics from nearly all the world’s religions—then your life and activities will correspond with love, and you will probably witness daily miracles. You don’t control it but you can submit yourself to it.
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