Dear Deep Intercessors:

As I’ve mentioned before, when confronted with pain, struggle, deprivation, weakness, etc., we’re not comfortable regulating our helplessness. “Thoughts and prayers” have become a trivializing phrase, hiding passivity in the face of tragedy. But there are times when that’s all we’ve got. Unfortunately, “I’ll pray for you” feels like a last resort when we’ve exhausted all the options of practical assistance. It feels like surrender. ‘I wanted to do something useful, but all the wonderful things I could do have been declined, so I guess I’m stuck with praying instead.’

I understand how quickly feelings of helplessness can degenerate into a self-loathing haplessness, but when we are unable to fix, repair, restore or heal our loved ones back to normal, it’s difficult. We bring our insufficiency into the presence of another’s struggle, and we’re left confronting our own inadequacy, perhaps even our own mortality.

Except… except, there is prayer (aka intercession).

In Paul’s letter to the Romans, he twice mentions prayer for us as a divine activity. In Romans 8.26-27, Paul writes, “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness, for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with groanings too deep for words. And God, who searches hearts, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.” So, of all the many things the Holy Spirit does on our behalf, praying for us is one of them. Then again, a few verses later Paul also highlights prayer as an activity of the risen Christ. “Who will bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? It is Christ who died, or rather, who was raised, who is also at the right hand of God, who also intercedes for us.” (33-34)

Of course, the cartoon of a drowning man with another standing on a bridge next to a life preserver shouting, “I’ll pray for you!”—while not reaching for the rescue ring—is an absurdity. But while throwing the rope and ring, some prayers for the distance of the toss and strength for the one grasping would be completely reasonable. I think what we’re missing is our understanding of the word for, as in “I’ll pray for you.”

As anyone learning a new language can tell you, prepositions are messy things, which means careful dissection of their use is important in discerning meaning. What’s been shifting in my head is what I mean when offering prayer. The word for can convey a sense of a direction to whom an action is performed, as in, “We made breakfast for the Confirmation class and their guests.” The word identifies those who are the beneficiaries of our labor. If, in this sense, I’m praying for you, I consider you to be the beneficiary of this auxiliary work; this is the way I have previously intended the phrase to be understood.

But performing labor in replacement of another’s work conveys a different sense of the preposition, as in, “Let me get some coffee for you.” In this sense the word for conveys proxy. You’re busy, you’re tired, you’re distracted, so I will do something so that you don’t have to do it for yourself. This is a different understanding when we pray for others—we kneel in their stead; we take a load from them by offering to do it so they are unburdened from this labor.

For the one who is struggling, perhaps overwhelmed, it’s not unreasonable to assume they do not have the energy, or time, or disposition to pray; or as Paul said, “We do not know how to pray as we ought.” Certainly, if the Holy Spirit is given to the church community as a gift, then the people endowed with that Spirit should be able to share that gift and pray as proxy for the prayers of others—to pray for others.

I hear the offers of prayer differently now. I used to hear, “I can’t think of anything useful to do for you so when I pray, I’ll mention your situation.” Now I hear, “I see you’re overwhelmed, let me take prayer off the list of things you need to do for yourself; I will pray for you.”

With gratitude for your prayers, I remain,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor