Wheatland’s Tuesday night group has recently been reading Emilie Griffin’s book Clinging: The Experience of Prayer. It’s not a how-to book but a reflection on what prayer essentially is, and pulling us through the barriers that stand in the way of our praying at all.
Here are a few excerpts. If you find them intriguing, join us! Tuesdays at 6:30 PM.
From the Forward,
There is no explanation for another book on prayer except perhaps the one found at the end of John’s Gospel, saying that if one were to include everything Jesus ever did, the world could not contain the books that woud be written.
Prayer, I suspect, is part of what Jesus Christ had done in me, and for that I most gratefully make this effort to share that treasure.
As for “clinging,” I have consciously chosen an image of attachment to God, in hopes of conveying our dependency on him. - xi
From chapter 1. Beginning
There is a moment between intending to pray and actually praying that is as dark and as silent as any moment in our lives. It is the split second between thinking about prayer and really praying. - pg. 1
Pray is, after all, a very dangerous business. For all the benefits it offers of growing closer to God, it carries with it one great element of risk: the possibility of change. In prayer we open ourselves to the chance that God will do something with us that we had not intended. - pg. 2
You should have it firm in your mind that prayer is neither to impress other people nor to impress God. It’s not to be taken on with a mentality of success. The goal, in prayer, is to give oneself away. The Lord loves us—perhaps most of all—when we fail and try again. - pg. 10
From chapter 2. Yielding.
Griffin seems to use this title in different ways. Yielding to God’s direction, of course, but also yielding up our small and idolatrous images of what God is really like, images that are hindrances to prayer.
The fact is that we are called to pray. It is not so much our doing as God: a deep prompting within us that wells up without our meaning or intending it. It is the Lord’s voice speaking, calling us to him, yet sometimes at first so quietly that without stopping to listen, we don’t hear it. But the call is real. The Lord is there. - pg. 11
He is the one who can tell us the reason for our existence, our place in the scheme of things, our real identity. It is an identity we can’t discover for ourselves, that others can’t discover in us—the mystery of who we really are. How we have chased around the world for an answer to that riddle, looked in the eyes of others for some hint, some clue, hunted in the multiple worlds of pleasure and experience and self-fulfillment for some glimpse, some revelation, some wisdom, some authority to tell us our right name and our true destination.
But there was, and is, only One who can tell us this: the Lord himself. - pg. 11
It’s never too late to join us. Tuesday nights, 6:30 PM, at Sunnyside.