Meaningless Repetition

Posted by Art Nuernberg on November 18, 2011

Have you ever had a longstanding, strong, mental impression for which you cannot pinpoint the origin? Despite the fact that you cannot speak with certainty about the source of the impression, the imprint remains clear and deep.

I have one of those strong, mental impressions which may have come from a series of slides, a documentary film, or pictures in a book. Centered in an expansive plaza in an Asian country is a statue of Buddha so large that it dwarfs the people gathered around it. Some of the individuals simply stand observing the grand statue, while many others are praying. As I remember (and this could be inaccurate), scraps of paper with prayers fill the cracks around the base as ongoing petitions to Buddha. In this mental image, real men and women are praying.

I don’t begin to know the theology behind their prayers, but I do know a little about people. I believe their petitions were more or less like prayers offered any other place on the earth. Some people were there to fulfill their religious duty. They hoped to please and receive merit or to placate and avoid wrath. These probably returned home with at least the blessing of a relieved conscience from having done their duty.

There was a second group, however, as is always true in any place of prayer. These people came with heartaches, with life's deep hurts. They faced illness or financial hardship or injustice or broken relationships or the death of loved ones. They were grieving and helpless and sought relief. As my impression centered on this group of petitioners, they were pouring out their hearts on that stone floor while the fixed, stone face towering forty or fifty or sixty feet above them stared at the horizon. Buddha never looked down; he never shed a tear; he never offered a consoling word. Yet typically, these hurting people would remain for a long time, offering various chants and formula prayers and cries, hoping against hope for Buddha's intervention.

I have read a lot of commentaries on Matthew 6:7-8. Jesus instructed his listeners not to use meaningless repetitions. The meaning is actually a bit obscure, making a precise exposition of this first line difficult. Some put the emphasis more on the emptiness of the language; others emphasize the repetitive aspect. More often than not, the comments that follow consider the foolishness of such prayers. The Lord's main point refers to the theology behind repetitive prayers. These petitioners believed they could persuade “god” by the sheer volume of their words.

We should ask ourselves a question before we laugh too hard at their foolishness. If such prayers are so brainless, why would Jesus warn a crowd of devout Hebrews not to follow this example? What pressures could possibly push these Hebrews in the same direction? Is it possible that Jesus is actually addressing one of the fundamental causes of both prayerlessness and unbelieving prayer rather than poking fun at spiritually ignorant heathens? Do we really believe that God is good?

All the promises concerning prayer in the New Testament encourage us and assure us of God’s willingness to answer. If we did not have a track record to place against the abundance of this teaching, we would conclude that unanswered prayer should be rare indeed. Experience, however, often screams the very opposite. Unanswered prayer haunts us on every side and mocks us while we loudly proclaim the value of prayer.

Therefore, in practice, we tend to become detached in prayer. We offer the same collections of vocabulary so many times that we can keep on praying while we plan our day or review last night’s game or wonder how we will get the car fixed. On those occasions when we really need to “get through” to the throne, we struggle with words just like those poor souls at the base of the Buddha. We frantically pile up words in an attempt to move the heart of God.

Meanwhile, a real person, our Father, who is full of compassion, waits for us to address Him. He already sees our hearts. He already knows our needs. He simply asks us to engage Him with meaningful words. There are no gimmicks; there are no secret words; there are no minimum numbers of expressions which must be reached. All we need is honest communication.

The Buddha made of stone is never moved. The Lord of Glory, the true and living God, is never cold.

Art Nuernberg is a teacher and the Pastoral Director at EI. His posts will be added to the blog every Friday. For more information about Art or any of the other staff members, click here.