Figure Of A Man Praying

We have lots of praying figures in our home. A wooden Santos stands on the fireplace mantle, hands folded over chest. On the bookcase there is a terracotta figure of a woman with hands raised and a look of ecstasy on her face. In our garden Milagros of figures on bended knees are nailed to the fence and there is a Native American figure sitting cross-legged with face turned upward longing for the Divine.

The other day I was driving in downtown Dallas and I saw a figure praying. It was a man in a landscaped median sitting in a lotus position with one hand outstretched, palm turned upward. I thought to myself, “Wow, how can that guy be in such a state of prayer with all this traffic and noise?” Then I realized this man was homeless and his upturned palm was hoping for a handout from a passerby. He had no sign, no cup or box, just an outstretched hand that I mistook for prayer. Or was it a mistake?

That image has stayed with me as I have asked myself the question, what does this teach me about prayer? It teaches me that prayer begins with expressing our need. So often we forget to ask God for what we need. We think God may be too busy with world events to hear and respond to our requests that seem so small and insignificant. Prayer is asking for what we need.

Prayer is also open-handed. What we give or what we withhold will affect our prayer. That is simply the mystery of the divine economy. It’s not that God keeps score, but our actions of love, generosity, mercy and kindness flow out of and into our praying. God invites us to be the answer to others’ prayers. That means feeding the hungry, giving shelter to the homeless, or maybe just seeing the homeless as people of prayer.

So often we write checks to feeding programs or donate goods to shelters without considering the spirituality of the people who will receive our generosity. It is important to do both. We must put our prayers into action in concrete ways, but we must also be open to what God is doing in people’s lives who inhabit the margins. They teach us more about prayer than any textbook or workshop or spiritual retreat ever could.