A Lockdown Prayer
This morning in class, we studied the theology of God’s attributes. The lecture was on who God is and what he is like. All good theology ends in ethics and doxology, which means that the goal of studying God is to obey him and worship him. And so after the lecture, we were given an exercise to pick one of God’s attributes and write a prayer about it. I’d like to share with you my prayer.
Here in Sydney, we’re currently in week eight of a “quick two-week” lockdown in response to the outbreak of the Delta variant. So I guess, being drawn to the idea of connection, I chose to pray about God’s omnipresence, which means that he is always present everywhere in Creation all the time. For Christians this means that even if you feel alone, you’re not truly alone.
One of the key Bible passages that talks of this is from the Psalms:
Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
Psalm 139.7-8
In writing my prayer I was also inspired by something said by American theologian Katherine Sonderegger:
“It is a striking fact that God cannot be seen in the cosmos. God is not an object encountered in the world of creatures, nor in the vast silence of the limitless space of the universe. God is not located in the cosmos as are bodies, nor are there extensions where God is more “concentrated,” so to say... Whatever we must say later about the dwelling places of Almighty God, about His manifestation as Word and Gift to His creatures, we may not depart from this fundamental truth of the Lord’s Oneness: He is everywhere present through His cosmos, not locally, but rather harmoniously, equally, generously, and lavishly in all places, at once, as the Invisible One.”
Katherine Sonderegger, Systematic Theology: The Doctrine of God: 1:52
Here is my prayer:
Dear God,
I’m so afraid to be alone, to be unknown and unnoticed. I hunger for real connection. I’m not truly living, am I, if I am on my own? Nor could I be truly human if I am human in isolation.
Looking at others through a computer screen is like eating a photo of food: It’s so like the real thing, but so, so deeply unsatisfying and I am still hungry.
I worry that no one will hear my inner thoughts or understand the complexity of my deepest feelings. What is the point of happiness if not to share it? What is the meaning of sorrow if there is no one to bear it with me?
But how could I worry about these things? As the psalmist says, where could I go to flee from your presence? What heights could I climb or depths could I descend that I would be alone from you? Jonah tried, and see how that worked out for him.
Wow, no matter how alone I feel, I couldn’t be. You inhabit everything. You hear all my inner thoughts and you know and understand the best and worst of my emotions. I never have to worry about a moment of my life going waste because it was not lived in the presence or acknowledgement of others. I can live with such security and freedom. I don’t need to be seen by others, I don’t have to fight for recognition. I don’t need to be represented in a Marvel movie by some action star with ripped abs that is the same race and ethnicity as me...
for me to be alive.
But I do struggle with this. And I struggle with this so hard. And so frequently. And you know this because you see me struggling with this. I really like it when other people approve of me. It feels good. And honestly, sometimes it feels realer than when you approve of me. And so I guess I need your help. I need your Spirit. Because I need comfort. It’s more important to me than food or water or being able to walk around in Westfield or go over to people’s houses again. I need your always, all the time, everywhere, every circumstance, nonstop being with me.
I thank you that in Christ, I am never alone. You see me, you care about me, and you love me. And your love is unconditional. Whatever I am, at my most embarrassing, my most shameful, my thoughts and secret deeds that are hidden away in the darkest of corners of the emptiest rooms of the most remote dwellings, you see those, you are present in those moments. How could you be present with me when I am so vile in my sin? Yet you are, and such is the mystery and beauty of imputed righteousness.
What is this love? You have known every moment of me, and yet you don’t hate me? You are not disgusted with me? What is this joy? How could I not be burned up? How could I even exist? And not be condemned, judged. You approve of me, here, now, forevermore? You aren’t sickened by me?
I guess this is what living by faith feels like right now. Because I haven’t fully gotten you, yet, have I? I have you now, in your Spirit. But you promised face to face. I have your omnipresence, but I want to walk with you, the way Adam and Eve did.
So help me live by faith. Please be with me now, but promise me fuller presence. Help me to know in my experience what I know through your Word. And help me to live in that tension. These are pilgrim days. Now, I have enough, but soon I will be fully satisfied. Amen.
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