The assisting minister fought back tears as she struggled to offer the prayers of the people on Sunday. Her family is in Puerto Rico, in the desolation left behind by hurricanes Irma and Maria. Information has been spotty. The phone line that let her know they had gathered in her parents’ home and survived the storm is now dead. Text messages get through occasionally. The neighborhood of her family’s congregation is underwater. The roof of her parish church has blown away. The whole island is without power.
I had planned to have her husband give us an update during the announcements before we began worship, but I didn’t write it down on my list and the moment passed. So, after the Prayer of the Day, when the children come forward for the children’s message, I brought the traveling mike to Paul to tell us how things were going for their family. I realized, after Paul finished, that it belonged there inside the service. It belonged there when we had begun to sing and we had begun to pray and the cross was in our midst. This was not an announcement like the activities in the parish and upcoming concerts. These were people we knew. These were about profound human experiences. It belonged inside the service.
And so did the prayers that Iris struggled to offer. Our prayers are meant to be the cries of our hearts. Liturgical prayers sometimes come across as formal and vaguely homiletical – things we ought to care about rather than those things that ache within. But Sunday, the prayers spoke with profound truth. Here, God, here are our broken hearts. Here are our fears and tears. Here are our hopes and needs. Here are those cries and sighs too deep for words.
We are often embarrassed by “losing control” and expressing our emotions in public. I tried to tell Iris that what happened Sunday was perfect. I suspected she might later regret it, so I told her husband also. It was perfect. It was true. It was prayer.
Image: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File%3ABerl%C3%ADn_orante_05.JPG By Miguel Hermoso Cuesta (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons