couches, crammed against walls, waiting, as the fear of this young woman's possible death creptinto our minds like a shadow.When the pastor finally arrived, he was young (maybe a few years older than I) and thin,dressed in tight wrangler jeans and a clean shirt. He walked confidently and quietly to the back of the room and got the latest update from the eldest sister, while the mother looked on in tears.He seemed to think about what he had heard for a moment, then said, "Let's pray." Handsreached out to hands and shoulders and knees as the room knit itself together into a web of connection. There was silence.
The Prayer
In plain, country English, the pastor spoke to God. Slowly, deliberately he began to layout what was happening. Using the first person plural, "we" he articulated the fear and pain thatevery person in that room who loved the sick woman in the ICU was feeling. He put words tothe emotions that had tied them into knots and spoke out loud to God about thing they mostfeared: her death. He then spoke of how much he knew God had been active in her life. Hemade a case for God's intervention based upon the kids she would leave that needed their "momma," and the way her family all relied on her. He told God what they wanted to happen,humbly but directly. As he thanked God for His faithfulness, I felt the shadow of dread and fear begin to lift as though he had somehow drawn out those emotions from the people in the roomand released them to God, like lancing a boil. But he wasn't finished. He raised his hand and began to speak in tongues. Slowly and calmly at first, but as others joined him the room seemedto jump as a new energy seized the gathered family. Words poured fourth in great cathartic, prayerful intensity as his prayer continued. It seemed that he somehow was focusing or channelling the emotion and prayer and longing of all those in the room through him, to God. Inthat moment I was profoundly humbled. This man who I had feared would cause harm, hadcome and led them in a prayer of lament that led into thanksgiving, that both bound themtogether as one and released them from the bondage of their great fear.
The Psalms
This experience has stuck with me because I felt it to be one of the most profoundexamples of pastoral prayer I have ever seen. And yet I wasn't sure exactly why it had worked sowell. Partly it had to do with the relationship he had with the family, and also partly it had to dowith the cathartic emotional power of prayer charismatic prayer. But it was more than that.After studying the Psalms and reflecting upon this experience I began to see the way his prayer carried some of the aspects of the lament Psalms (see especially 10; 60; 89:38-52). Hisarticulation of the pain and suffering they were experiencing, especially the torment of immanentloss for the community, was probably one of the most important things he did. As Brueggemannsuggests, the "verbalization" of the hurt, fear or pain is a crucial step in naming it and moving beyond it (Brueggemann, 1986, 58). No one among them except the pastor was willing or ableto voice these fears and when he did so on their behalf, before God, they all breathed a deep sighof relief. There. He had said it. The elephant in the middle of the room had been named. And itis that naming and describing of the pain and loss of the people, often (in the Psalms) inheartbreakingly poetic language speaks to the way the Psalms inform how I understand his prayer.Lumpkin 2
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