Continual Crying

May 4, 2023

I remember it as if it were yesterday instead of last year. The text came as I was sitting in the small courtyard of his house with my friend pastor Daniel Ibaceta. I was in Cuba at the invitation of his son David Daniel for his wedding. The text from Linda simply said, “Call me right away.” I did so only to learn that our son had been taken to the hospital with a brain bleed. 

I know I prayed all that afternoon and through the night, but my prayers had no words. In his letter to the Roman Christians, St. Paul told us that the Spirit of God prays for us “with groanings that cannot be uttered.” I used to wonder about that phrase, but I understand it now. I slept fitfully that night, praying wordless prayers when awake, and also, I believe, when I dozed off.

My Cuban friends arranged a flight home the next day, and that evening Linda and I were in Buffalo General Hospital visiting Nate, who was sitting up, witnessing to his nurses, laughing with us. They stopped the bleed and discovered the tumors in his brain for which he has been receiving treatment ever since.

These days, you wouldn’t know from looking at him that there was anything wrong with him. He gets tired more easily than before, and if you ask, will tell you of the brain fog he deals with. This semblance of normalcy is insidious and deceitful, and deadly to prayers if I am not careful.

This morning’s reading came from Jesus’ story of the unjust judge who wouldn’t listen to a woman’s cry for help. Undeterred, she kept at it till he granted her an audience. “Will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them? I tell you, he will give justice to them speedily” (Luke 18:7-8). But what if, unlike this woman, our prayers slow down, our fervor fails, and we lose our desperation for God to hear and answer? What if prayer becomes simply routine, without any expectation of results?

In the Garden of Gethsemane on that last earthly night, Jesus prayed desperately, “Father, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not my will, but Thine be done.” The gospel tells us that his prayer was so intense that he sweat blood. Meanwhile, the disciples’ eyes grew heavy as they dozed off. “Couldn’t you watch with me for one hour?” Jesus asked. “Watch and pray, lest you enter into temptation.” 

Still, they slept, and before the night was over, they had all deserted him. I wonder about my prayers. How many answers do I not receive because I have lost that sense of urgency I felt about Nate last year? How many times have I fallen to temptation because I couldn’t wait with Jesu for even an hour? What have I missed out on because I couldn’t be bothered to cry out to God day and night? I was in continual, if wordless, prayer for my son. God heard our cry, and Nate is still with us, blessing us with his faith and faithfulness. 

The promises of God are of no effect if we fail to act on them. “Will not God give justice to his elect, who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long over them? I tell you, he will give justice to them speedily.” That is God’s promise. The prayer is up to me.