Practices of prayer: experience and reflection

What Christians and Muslims do in learning to pray, and growing in prayer, was varyingly addressed by both dialogue events. At the Building Bridges Seminar, exploring experiences of formation and development in the practice of prayer was addressed together with “methods and disciplines adopted by those seeking to develop deeper lives of prayer” (Marshall and Mosher 2013, xiii). Along with exploring what prayer means within each faith, theological and experiential perspectives were brought to bear, yielding new dimensions of mutual appreciation. A Muslim contributor noted the Christian understanding of the sacraments might suggest there is perhaps more in common with the five pillars of Islam than might typically be thought. And a Christian observed of Muslim prayer its “robust masculinity” and rich physical expressiveness, coupled with its naturally public nature. Indeed, Michael Plekon (2013) pointed out that in neither faith is prayer regarded as an existing abstract “thing” in itself. It is, rather, an activity undertaken by human beings: it is people of faith who pray. And prayer is a two-way experience of presence, that of the one at prayer being “before”, or being positioned “in the presence of” God; and that of God being present to the one at prayer. This can carry through into everyday life in that, by virtue of engaging in prayer, the one who prays is opened up “to God, to ourselves, and to others” (Plekon 2013, 5). Furthermore,

while prayer connects us with God and others, our prayer is the means by which God transforms us, mends that which is broken, heals that which is infirm, and makes of us an encounter with God for those around us.

(Plekon 2013, 6)

Plekon, a Christian, affirmed prayer as central to religious identity and activity; something that can be incorporated into everyday life: “If we do not live our prayer, we do not really pray . . . [if] . . . not just an activity prescribed in liturgical services at certain times” (Plekon 2013, 9).

In a similar vein, the Muslim approach to prayer distinguishes between two classes of prayer, obligatory and supererogatory (Mohamed 2013). While foundational instructions for carrying out the action of prayer are found only in hadith literature, reinforcing the sense in which this pious activity is often viewed as a necessary action of emulating the Prophet Muhammad, further distinctions can be made between the corporate ritual prayer of salat and personal supplication (du‘a) as an expression of piety, the prayer of the heart; and both of those from the diffused and pervasive sense of recollection or remembrance of God (dhikr) that can pervade everyday activities and which, indeed, is the underlying purpose or point of all prayer: dwelling in the presence of God at all times. This finds echo in the contribution of Ibrahim Mogra (2013, 136) who regards Muslim prayer as an expression of remembering and obedience: “Reward is promised for those who pray, and there are warnings for those who do not”. Timothy Gianotti, in sharing his reflections and lessons of growing in prayer as a Muslim, touched on themes of tests and difficulties, the quality and scope of prayer, and the focus and implications of prayer. In Islam

prayer is often presented and taught as a duty, as something we owe God, rather than as a way God . . . has opened for us to approach and come close to the One who is the ultimate goal of all our longing and unrest.

(Gianotti 2013, 147)

Here is expressed a deep inner Islamic spirituality, where prayer is both an act of worship and a relational process. Prayer is

born of a deep, personal desire for a closer walk with God. This desire is itself a gift, or course, and so we are again faced at the outset with the ambiguity of prayer being both an act of the Creator and an act of the creature.

(Gianotti 2013, 148)

Prayer also involves tests and difficulties, and quality “has to be given priority over the quantity of prayer cycles or length of recitation” (Gianotti 2013, 150). For Gianotti, quantitative performance with a view to reward is a distraction for which the antidote is mindfulness and humility. Furthermore, and central to prayer, is that its point is to make one’s life “a theatre of remembrance”. At the same time, growing in prayer “means to grow in mercy and in active response to the needs around me” — proper prayer results in actions of mercy and justice, interceding in deed as well as in articulated concern for others. There is no meaningful difference between growing in prayer and simply growing as a moral and religious person: “Prayer is what and who 1 am as well as what I do” (Gianotti 2013, 154). With reference to al-Ghazali and other Muslim mystics, Gianotti concluded that for Muslims the point of prayer is to transcend the egoistic self in favour of “resting” or “dwelling” in God. And Muslim scholar Asma Afsaruddin (2013, 117) remarked that prayer engages “three interlocking, all-encompassing, and ceaseless forms of worship: affirmation in one’s heart of faith in God; attestation to it by means of the tongue, and the physical accomplishment of righteous deeds”. The supplicatory dimension is significant in that through regular prayer Muslims continually implore God “to blot out their sins so that they are not disgraced on the Day of Judgment and so that God may grant them absolution for their evil deeds”. Prayer is a constant reminder of humility.

From a Christian perspective, Philip Sheldrake remarked that the practices of prayer “only make sense, spiritually and theologically, as explicit realizations of something . . . fundamental - our relationship with God” (Sheldrake 2013, 41). The thrust of divine revelation is the realisation of God as personal, not an impersonal, force or reality; and qua personal, the being of God is relational: “essentially characterized as ‘love’ . . . the material world, human history, and everyday affairs are the media through which we are opened up to God’s love and to God’s transformative power” (Sheldrake 2013, 41). Prayer is a medium through which beliefs are expressed and one’s religious identity affirmed; indeed, “it is our relationship with God in prayer that creates our theology”. And, again similarly to the Muslim pattern, an underlying essential dynamic is at play. On the one hand, common, or corporate, prayer as a ritualised communal act, expressing “a fundamental sense that the practice of Christianity is inherently social rather than individualistic” (Sheldrake 2013, 43); on the other hand, there is personal and private devotional or meditative prayer. The motif of unceasing or constant prayer, most typically with its origins in ancient desert monastic practices and now intimating the underlying purpose of prayer, namely to see or find God in all things, undergirds both the private and the corporate modalities of prayer. “Prayer is ultimately a living relationship between humans and God and the practices of prayer are simply to express this relationship and to enable it to develop fruitfully” (Sheldrake 2013, 50).

Prayer reflects and expresses love for God and is responsive to God’s love for us. It fosters awareness of the spiritual presence and closeness of God. Timothy Wright commented evocatively that prayer “is a love affair in which words, gestures, and memory all come into play” (Wright 2013, 141). He outlined a framework of four elements, or “pillars”, for Christian prayer, namely, lectio divina, which is a form of reading and pondering or meditating upon texts of scripture; the use of silence; the use of non-scriptural spiritual texts; and the daily cycle of prayer, which remains part of Christian practice in many church traditions. This framework is flexible and “can be adapted to suit individual needs. It allows variety, which both creates and sustains interest” (Wright 2013, 143). Commitment to the framework and engaging the habit of prayer is what “cultivates relationship with the Divine”. Lucy Gardner similarly notes that prayer is not one thing, or one way; yet it is always God-directed and at the same time self-reflective, whether individual or corporate: “Prayer in the Christian tradition is and can be many things” (Gardner 2013, 126). Prayer is both an intentional address, a “deliberate attention to God” yet also an instinctive attitude that can pervade all of everyday life: the sense of being in the presence of God even in the midst of our mundane, profane existence.

Prayer can also be understood as “God’s work in us” and “a form of pedagogy” enabling multiple learnings, including to be responsible for both ourselves and for others, along with receiving and granting forgiveness. In short, Gardner holds that through the practice of prayer the Christian can “learn to be loved and to love” and thus “grow in faith and hope; we surrender ourselves and yet also receive our true identities” (Gardner 2013, 128). Prayer is an act and form of submission. Prayer is words; it is also silence. It is also a matter of impulse and inclination. It needs regular rhythm to flourish: “we pray because of who and what God is and because of who and what we are” (Gardner 2013, 131). In articulating the dynamic and outcomes of engaging in prayer, Gardner sketches not only a pattern and benefit applying to Christianity, it is one that sits just as well with Islam. There is a dynamic of prayer that comprises a conjoining thread of common experience that can enable a deep and meaningful Christian-Muslim dialogue.

Ansgar Franz (2006) considered physicality in respect to prayer in Islam, focussing on directionality and posture. This opened up another interesting dimension of dialogical discussion and reflection. Formal prayer (salat) is conducted facing Mecca; bodily posturing, including prostration, correlates with the various intentions expressed within the prayer-act. The directional posture unites all Muslims across the globe, and prostration of the body correlates with the inner attitude of humility. It is thus an expression of community tawhid, or singular unity, together with representing the oneness, or communion, of the people with God in the moment of prayer. There is an affinity here with those traditions within Christianity that still follow the ancient practice of prayer directed towards the East, which occurs where church buildings are erected on an East-West axis, whether strictly directionally, or only representational!}' so. The ancient link is to the rising of the sun and to the promise of resurrection, thus the direction of prayer has had, for Christianity, a dimension of eschatological hope and a sense of postural directedness that expresses a transcendent connectivity with the Divine. Within Islam, the postures that accompany the recitation of Quranic verses and prayers in the course of salat are meant to show a certain inner attitude, which is called the presence of the heart.

Again, something similar can be found in Christianity, namely with the three postures of sitting, standing, and prostration or kneeling, varyingly applied to acts of personal and public prayer. These sorts of associative patterns are very mixed in terms of specifics — standing prayer for some, sitting for others — but the fact of association of physicality and spirituality remains constant. However, some more contemporary forms of Christian worship, including protestant and especially neo-protestant forms, have generally lost the traditional postural and directional elements. A key question is to what extent do the different physical accompaniments to acts of prayer, both public and private, reflect or express the same (or closely similar) spiritual intent and phenomenological dynamic?

From a different perspective, Martin Jaggle (2006) interrogated practices and understandings of prayer from the perspective of Christian religious education. Arising out of post-Enlightenment stresses on rationality and pragmatism, the question of the use and purpose of prayer comes to the fore, but allowing different dimensions to be recognised. Prayer can be that of personal supplication, or an expression of gratitude and praise, which may be expressive of an acknowledgement of a transcendental dependent relatedness. This can take on a more dynamic and interrelated hue with intercessory prayer. Jaggle noted that

Prayer 131 while the more traditional forms and contexts of Christian prayer within everyday life are receding, the “Gas stations of the soul” are booming (Jaggle 2006, 190). Entrepreneurial Christianity, especially that of evangelical-type gatherings of “religious entertainment”, where worship is as much an entertaining show as an experience of piety, can have considerable mass appeal. This aside, a point of contrast between the two faith traditions today is that for many Christians the questions of where, when and how to pray, other than in group contexts, are very much alive whereas for Islam it would seem there is a relatively stable and widely adhered to pattern for adherents to live by.

On the other hand, Christians often voice their prayer in sung form, including repetitive scriptural phrases, and sometimes this form is accompanied by dance and other movements such as raising of hands, or clapping, and all this can be understood as Christian expressions of physicality in prayer. The physical expression of, and accompaniment to, prayer is different in Christianity and Islam but in either case there is the similar aim of praying “as a whole person” (Jaggle 2006, 193). And in both faiths, the different forms of prayer, such as liturgical and formulaic versus free expression, are meant to be complementary, not in competition. As Bongardt (2006) notes, prayer is not only with spoken words or silently expressed thoughts. Our bodies “speak” in the postures and actions that accompany the mental dimension of prayer as, for instance, in Christian Catholic and Orthodox liturgies; and likewise, in Islam. Another form is that of absolute silence: bodily silence can also be a way to pray. The praying person reveals something in the way prayer is performed.

Abdullah Takim (2006), on the basis of belief in God as the Creator and humanity as the creation of God, from a Muslim perspective this implies a close relationship between the two. Each is ever present to the other, although that presence needs to be made a reality. The Qur’an says repeatedly humans can experience the presence of God if they perceive the universe and themselves as Gods creation. The Muslim act of ritual prayer sees prostration as the high point because it makes real the surrender to God in humbleness and obedience - the heart of what it means to be a Muslim. Prayer is an existential experience through which human beings can perceive God’s presence and realise that the source of their own existence lies in it. Therefore, in Islam adherents pray as if one could physically feel the presence of God. Muslims live their lives in a God-centred fashion, in so far as they try to internalise the Quranic commandments to reach, or to realise - to make real — the presence of God. As the Qur’an is the Word of God, and therefore “the way, the truth and the life” from a Muslim perspective, believers “speak” to God in their very reading of the Qur’an and, in so doing, experience God’s presence spiritually. Takim referred to the Japanese Qur’an scholar, Toshihiko Izutsu, who distinguishes between verbal and nonverbal signs from God to which humans can respond. The holy scriptures, Bible and Qur’an, comprise the revelatory sign of God alongside which there are also nonverbal signs, namely natural phenomena such as the sun, moon, trees, even different languages. The verbal response to such signs is personal prayer, that of “the dialogue of the human heart with God”;

ritual prayer, by contrast, is a nonverbal sign. It contains verbal aspects, but it is a formalised ritual performance, a cultic act that follows a prescribed pattern - the essence of doing ritual.

There are many interpretations of the ritual prayer, and what a Muslim feels in performing it. The Muslim at prayer lives, for a moment, in a different reality and leaves the world behind. The connection between supplication, ritual prayer, and remembrance (dhikr) is very close. In ritual prayer corporeality, aesthetics, and communication with God come together. This connection helps the one at prayer to connect with God, and this connection has an aesthetic dimension. Indeed, both the Qur’an and the act of prayer have a high aesthetic value for Muslims. When they bow and prostrate during prayer, the aesthetic harmony reaches its high point because the action symbolises the whole of creation bowing and surrendering to the will of God. The act of prayer involves a moment of cosmic harmony. For some, the actions of standing, bowing, and prostration during the ritual prayer shows solidarity with other sentient elements of creation, such as animals, that also exist by God’s grace and effectively “serve” God in being who and what they are. What a Muslim does in the act of prayer is a summary of the prayer of the universe: mindful humility and surrender before the Divine Creator.

For Susan Eastman (2013, 81) prayer is not a matter of getting “God to do something for us . . . for God already knows what we need”. It is, rather, an act that brings the person at prayer into the presence of God in the form of a communication, or communion, with God. It is thus an act of “participation in the divine life of endlessly generative love”. For both Muslims and Christians, prayer is an essential element of living the religious life. It is a central pillar for Islam, and integral to Christian liturgical and devotional patterns. It both presupposes religious conviction and yet constantly needs to be sought, found, and defined. Both faiths have similar modes: silent prayer to the listening God, and silent listening to and for God; ritualised forms involving bodily postures; personal and community forms; formulaic and free forms; prayer as thanksgiving, as request, as complaint and as praise. Arguably Islam has a much more standardised and universal form of liturgical prayer (salat) than does Christianity today, although forms and patterns of Christian prayer are highly variable. The substantive content of prayer is also very different, along with its theological context: monistic monotheism for one; trinitarian monotheism, with a Christological focus, for the other. The privatisation of religion within the context of a secular society impacts the form, function, and expression of prayer in both religions.