Text-messaging and prayer. Romans 8.26; Psalm 46.10

DON’T CALL ME, I WON’T CALL YOU. The headline totally caught my attention, as I caught up on reading my Sunday New York Times from March 20. Have you noticed that telephone usage has changed a lot in the last 20 years? I mean—think of it—we went from most every household having a home phone, with teen-agers’ hoping for an extension in their bedrooms—to fewer and fewer homes using their landlines, if they even have them! Most folks—especially our teens—rely almost exclusively on their cell phones. Is it all about the equipment though? Un-uh.

Actually, it goes well beyond that . . . in the last five years, adults seemingly have given up the telephone—land line, mobile phone, voice mail and all.1 How are people talking then? They are texting or e-mailing. Both methods are less bothersome, less intrusive, and less confrontational. Funny thing is—Miss Manners (Judith Martin) has been “hammering away at this for decades. The telephone has a very rude propensity to interrupt people…” in which the phonecaller insists, “drop whatever you’re doing and listen to me.”

The trend has certainly moved into the workplace as well, with much of worthwhile communication being conducted by e-mail, which of course, most movers and shakers can process on their i-phones or Blackberries. Why the change? Technology has made it possible, and the perception is that we are not just more savvy but also more productive as a result. To which I say, “Really??” Interfacing with the corporate world as I do, I see how it has caused tremendous pressure to respond in a timely fashion, so that the stress is constant, and at times, overwhelming! I’m not the sure trade-off is worth it.

Who cares? The change in communication has affected us relationally, and in general, I am not sure if that is a good thing—but as they say—‘it is what it is’. A few observations: we may communicate with more people in a day, but on a more shallow basis; we may be able to communicate on our own terms, but that sometimes mean we risk ‘saying’ things we would not dare utter a loud; since our tone cannot be heard, facial expressions seen, there is oft-times misunderstanding.

Who cares? I would propose that all of these changes in the way we communicate horizontally--with people--just may have impacted the way we communicate vertically--with our Lord—that is to say, in the way we pray. Remember, we are now accustomed to quick communication, so how can we slow down enough to just ‘be’ with God?

And so I think again of Romans 8.26—the Spirit helps us in our weakness . . . “oh, yes, Holy Spirit, help me in my weakness, in my inability, at least at times—okay, most of the time—to exhale and just ‘be’ with you. And yes, please ‘intercede for me’ before the Father, but make it quick!” Ouch—did I just say that? Mmmhmmm . . . And then, I think of God’s thought toward us when he says so simply, so clearly, so firmly, so beautifully: BE STILL, and know that I am God.2

Still? Quite a versatile word it is—‘still’ may be used as an adjective or adverb, and it used to be used as a noun, but not so much any more. Sometimes, we describe water as ‘still’ though. The very picture of ‘still’ is Yosemite’s Mirror Lake. When I was 15, I remember standing on her shore, looking out and around, and marveling at the mountain’s reflection in her glass-like surface. I thought it was simply beautiful.

And then, I remember my mom saying, “Now, just keep still.” What she wanted me to do was be quiet and stop moving. But I think when God wants me to ‘be still’ he wants me to stop, be quiet, come into his presence, and also be in a position to listen. Each of these takes thought, and sometimes a little heart preparation. But communing with God is worth it.

Prayer changes things, friends; it changes you, it changes me, and it moves the hand of God. It is worth it then to stop, be quiet, enter his presence, and listen too.

Now do you see how our culture’s fast-paced communication makes the practice of prayer a little more challenging? It is something to think about, and a reason to redouble our efforts in learning to be still.

Christine


1 Nielsen Media

2 Psalm 46.10