Why I don’t like “Quiet Times” and I “don’t get” prayer (or maybe I do)
I’ve always had a hard time with “quiet times” – a Christian way of talking about a daily regimen of Scripture reading and prayer. A time set apart — especially first thing in the morning — to be with God. Probably this is because I heard many people associate being truly spiritual with having a quiet time. And the earlier you had one in the morning, the more spiritual you were.
Don’t misunderstand me. I highly value cultivating disciplines and daily rhythms of reading, reflection, journaling, prayer, meditation, etc. But what I do find hard is when people think the only way, or the best way, or the most spiritual way to be with God is by “having a quiet time.”
What counts as prayer?
And then there is prayer. Recently I was filling out a time usage sheet and one thing I was supposed to track was time spent praying. This exercise left me feeling a bit perplexed. How does one track prayer? What counts and what doesn’t? Is it only if I stop, close my eyes, and speak words out loud or in my mind to God? How specific does it have to be?
I do believe prayer is essential. But I also think some of my best praying happens on the fly or while doing other things.
When aren’t we praying?
In my last post I talked about a person I met at my gym who told me she was going through a hard time. The next hour while I did my CrossFit WOD (workout) I found myself praying for this person. Somehow it was not too difficult to ask God to help my friend.while also counting 100 sit-ups. Over that next week when this person crossed my mind I would pray for her. Many of these prayers probably lasted a total of 1.67 seconds.
At the end of that same week I was supposed to tally the amount of time I spent praying. I held my pen over the sheet of paper and thought — what counts as prayer? Do I add up all the spontaneous moments when a person or situation passed through my mind and I offered them to God? What about prayers that only lasted a nano-second?
Or what about instances where I become aware of grace or beauty or experienced wonder and connected those to God? Or as I made decisions, payed bills, thought about the future, looked in the mirror, or countless other moments that made me glad or desirous for a God who is bigger and stronger and wiser than it all?
When wasn’t I praying?
Encountering God in all things
Some of the most profound or life-changing things come to me while I’m running or hiking, or driving in my car, listening to music or a podcast. Or when I see a piece of art. Or do random people watching. Or read an article. Or garden. Or when I am doing anything other than having a specific “quiet time.”
It seems my most spiritual encounters do not want to be contained in a box or in only 15 minutes of my day.
Many times there are no words that go along with my praying or encounters with God. They are just impressions or a pregnant silence or a distracted fumbling around inside my mind/heart/spirit for God.
So that’s why I say I don’t like quiet times and I don’t get prayer — at least when it’s confined to one particular way of doing things. I don’t want to miss out on the majority of life and the equally legitimate ways to encounter the God of all things in all the ways and places he may be found.
Prayer: Reminding ourselves of the reality and presence of God
A great book I took off my shelf to revisit is by Walter J. Ciszek called He Leadeth Me. Ciszek was captured by the Russian army during World War II and spent 23 years in Soviet prisons. He reflects on prayer:
“In prayer we speak to God…But we cannot pray as if we were talking to the empty air; so in the very act of praying we unconsciously remind ourselves of the reality and the presence of God, thereby strengthening our belief in him…We cannot pray always, in the sense of those contemplatives who have dedicated their whole lives to prayer and penance. Nor can we go around abstracted all day, thinking only of God and ignoring our duties to those around us, to family and friends and to those for whom we are responsible. But we can pray always by making each action and work and suffering of the day a prayer insofar as it has been offered and promised to God.”[1]
[1] Walter J. Ciszek, He Leadeth Me (Ignatius Press) 183-184, emphasis mine