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Courage to Pray: Daily Prayer in Congregational Life

Karl Heimbuck

Karl Heimbuck is the pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Sheridan, Wyoming.

The Brief Statement of Faith reminds us that “in a broken and fearful world the Spirit gives us courage to pray without ceasing.” 

O Lord, open my lips,
and my mouth shall proclaim your praise.

It was a short time into the pandemic when I first heard the opening sentences for the morning prayer liturgy in the Book of Common Worship (BCW). A former seminary classmate invited me to join an online prayer group working to connect church musicians and pastors in that uncertain moment. I was intrigued. The only other time I had used the daily prayer liturgies in the BCW was my senior year in seminary when Dr. Martha Moore-Keish taught our Company of New Pastors cohort to chant the psalms in her living room as part of evening prayer.

Folks were gathering for prayer on Zoom in less than an hour from the time I had received that initial invitation. I was tied up in committee meetings, so I missed that time of prayer. I offered my apologies, and my classmate texted back, “We plan on doing this for a few more weeks at least, so if you can’t join today, I can keep you in the loop.” I asked her to keep me informed, and I’d see what my schedule held for the next week. 

I serve as a solo pastor at a church in the northern Rocky Mountains. We are a rural community of about twenty thousand individuals in town and thirty thousand in the county. Ours is the one PC(USA) congregation in town. Further, we are an isolated community. We sit on a stretch of I-90 where it is at least an hour and a half drive in whatever direction you would desire to go if you would like to reach another community that is larger than a few thousand people. We have a Walmart, but the closest Target and Costco are each 130 miles away. Trader Joe’s? Five hours each way. Stock up on those dark peanut butter cups when you have to make the trip to Denver. 

My nearest PC(USA) colleague resides in Billings, Montana, where the previously mentioned Target and Costco are, and serves in a completely different presbytery. The geographic area for the presbytery in which I am a member is the entire state of Wyoming. The furthest I have ever driven for a presbytery meeting was 440 miles one way. Because of the sheer distance, our presbytery meets just twice each year, and many of our delegates opt for joining virtually. A former governor of Wyoming noted that the state is like a “small town with really long streets” because the degree of separation between most Wyomingites is one or two. When you meet someone new, you almost always know someone in common. But degrees of separation and deep connections are different sorts of relationships. As the isolating nature of the pandemic bore down in an already isolated area, I pined for some sort of connection.

A few days after that initial invitation to join the prayer group, my former classmate kept me in the loop as promised and encouraged me to make some time in my schedule for the next gathering. I joined, and what was initially meant to run for “a few more weeks at least” has turned into just about five years of gathering around the daily prayer liturgy. Moreover, it has been five years of finding connections in a way I could have only imagined as possible. 

In the early days of our gatherings, participants would sign in from coast to coast. I recall one meeting where we covered all four time zones in the contiguous United States. There was wideness to both God’s mercy and to our geographic boundaries. I thought my presbytery was a large space to gather people across. This was something else entirely! It was clear that we were longing for deep connections and that in the moment of so much uncertainty prayer was among the best ways to do that. 

The Brief Statement of Faith reminds us that “in a broken and fearful world the Spirit gives us courage to pray without ceasing.” The world has felt broken and fearful to me more often than not since I graduated seminary and took my ordination vows almost a decade ago. The spring of 2020 was one culmination of that combination, but I found, in addition to the comradery of our shared space, a distinct courage from the Spirit by praying with others in our group. It was the same bold sentiment I heard from a young couple in our own congregation when an elder asked them why they wanted to baptize their young child on the heels of a pandemic and with all the confusion they professed feeling in the complexity of daily living. “Given all that is happening in the world,” the mother replied, “what else can we do?”

What else could we do in our little group but pray? Where else would we find courage? Most importantly, where else could we find hope? I learned quickly that the group would not be a sounding board for my petty gripes about folks who complained at every precaution we took. Scripted and thoughtful liturgy does not leave space for gripes, and that was what gathered us together. The Book of Common Worship notes that the purpose of morning prayer is to “give thanks for the gift of new life in Christ and seek God’s grace for the day ahead.”1 I was in need of such grace, not gripes. I found that the group would not be a space to air our frustrations. If I was inclined toward griping, the liturgy encouraged me to go deeper, to think about what I was actually lamenting, and to identify the difference between complaint and lament.

The liturgy also shaped more profound connections between myself and the world. The connections with other church professionals were incredible, but when the prayers of thanksgiving and intercession within the liturgy lifted up different geographic regions of the globe, I could not help but think of the privileged resources my congregation had to keep us safely connected in some fashion. Our choir could figure out recording their parts individually, and our music director could patch those together to build an anthem for a virtual service. In praying globally with the liturgy, I was, oddly enough, reminded of the small churches in our presbytery down those long streets of the state, many without clergy, that would have loved to have any sort of music, not to mention a virtual service of their own. 

There was a learning curve to figuring out how to adapt the morning prayer liturgy to an online gathering. This is true of any congregation’s use of liturgy in any space. We learn where to place different pieces in the order of worship to reflect the tradition, comfort, and character of the worshiping body. We discover favorite hymns and the tempos a congregation is used to singing (usually because the same organist has played it for them for decades). We incorporate visual expressions of the liturgy where appropriate and possible within the worship space.

The morning prayer liturgy begins with the words with which I opened this article. Then, the order of worship prompts a morning psalm or hymn. It would have been easiest to speak this part, but the group was at least half musicians. How could we keep from singing? But how do you sing via Zoom? You might recall the SNL pandemic sketch “Zoom Church” where Keenan Thompson plays a pastor holding a virtual service and the congregants cannot figure out mute. A chorus of “Amens” makes the screen bounce around in a dizzying fashion from person to person. One woman steals the spotlight when her son turns up the volume on Sportscenter playing in the background and her microphone picks it up clearly for everyone else to hear. Thompson, as the pastor, boils with frustration until he tells everyone, “The Lord wants you to click the little microphone with the red line through it! Amen!?” But the sudden silence becomes as confusing to him as the noise was. Where did everyone go?

The same sorts of problems persisted with our music. If we played and sang, would we mute ourselves? If we did not, in addition to the screen jumping from participant to participant, nothing would line up. It is difficult to do things in sync on the platform simply because of the geography we celebrated. Distance creates lag no matter how near or far, and no Internet connections seem to be built equally. There is no clearer indication that you are not in the same physical space as when you try to sing in real time together on Zoom. Even those with musical prowess, of which there were plenty in the group, would not be able to keep matching time. Scripted liturgy has a lot of firewalls. That is not one of them.

Experimentation and the recording capacities of computers and even cell phones solved the issue. One musician could record a hymn in advance and play the recording during the service while we all muted and sang along. You could see that mouths were not singing the same words at the same time, but we were yet held together in the common song. In time, we would experiment with one person singing live as a cantor. This worked particularly well for chanting the psalms. Later, we would have an individual voice for the solo part of the chant and then one other leading the unison while others kept muted. Recently, we tried this with a drone incorporated through the Zoom audio to help all keep pitch, and it worked swimmingly.

Five years down the line and for me, the music shines as a part of the service. A plethora of musicians have taken a crack at leading this part of the service, so it is commonplace to hear something like a trombone medley accompanying one hymn while the next is a recording by a full choir. Sometimes I’ll record a hymn accompanying myself with the guitar, and this will be paired with a traditional recording done on the organ. Once, another participant and I tried to provide all original music for the service and were able to collaborate both in the writing and the recording as we sent instrumental and vocal tracks back and forth via GarageBand. 

Outside of the music, we had to be adaptable in the next piece of the order of worship, too: the Thanksgiving for Baptism. I have seen old church pews in homes and even offices but never a baptismal font. Many of us in those early days of COVID wished for some sort of communal worship in a sanctuary, and this piece of the liturgy was the starkest reminder that we were not in such a space. But then, one week, when one participant volunteered to take this piece of the service, I could see light reflecting off something made from glass at the bottom of their screen. When it came their turn to lead, they tipped the camera on their laptop down and revealed a glass pitcher and bowl. The slow pour of the water into the bowl was as sweet or sweeter than the music we had been figuring out. When the last drop had fallen and the slow sound of the water’s movement had ceased, they said the familiar words, “The Lord be with you.” As I replied, “And also with you,” I was as sure of the Lord’s presence as I had been in months. 

The order of worship for the morning prayer liturgy begins with opening sentences which are followed by a morning psalm or hymn. The Thanksgiving for Baptism is offered, and then the service moves toward Scripture. Traditionally, a psalm is the first reading. Typically, this is offered in a responsive manner as dictated in the psalms printed in the Book of Common Worship. You may also chant the psalms as I learned to when first using the evening prayer liturgy. 

Another reading or readings from Scripture follow the psalm. Our Zoom group has most often pulled these from the two-year cycle of daily readings, but there is no prescribed way to choose what to read. The response to Scripture is a period of silent reflection. Depending on who is sharing their screen and running the slides, the silence might be shorter or longer. 

The reading of Scripture is followed by either The Benedictus (GTG #109 or PH 601–602) or another song before the prayers of thanksgiving and intercession are shared. The prayers end with the Lord’s Prayer, and this is the one time in our group where everyone unmutes themselves and uses the version of the prayer closest to their heart as we all pray together. We do not end at the same time, but unity does not always dictate starting and stopping at the same time. A sending hymn then moves the liturgy into the words of dismissal. This sequence reflects the following order:

Opening Sentences
Morning Psalm or Hymn
Thanksgiving for Baptism
Psalm(s)
Scripture
Canticle or Hymn
Thanksgiving and Intercession
Dismissal

The simplicity of the service lends itself to adaptability across more platforms than Zoom. I want to now offer some ideas for how the liturgy might be used in a variety of ways within congregational life.

Sunday Service

Two times each year, our congregation does not livestream the Sunday service. One of these Sundays we are in the mountains worshiping without a reliable Internet connection or streaming hardware. The other Sunday we are sharing our favorite Christmas stories and do not have all the proper licensing to read those stories aloud over YouTube. It doesn’t help the livestream cause for that Sunday that a host of our congregation is in their Christmas pajamas and would rather not be seen on camera. On these occasions, I use the daily prayer liturgy to record a service of prayer in advance for those who are unable to join worship in person those days. The order of worship is similar enough to what we do in Sunday worship that it provides familiarity, even though the length is typically fifteen to twenty minutes, and I have had congregants who say that they have a favorite prayer service or two from the few years we have done them that they will use regularly in their own prayer life because of its easy accessibility online.

The liturgy’s use on a Sunday does not have to be bound to an online service, however, or used in its entirety. Its components could be used every Sunday, especially in churches without pastoral leadership. The prayers of thanksgiving and intercession from each day of the week could be used as the Prayers of the People on a seven-week rotation. If done, consider all that the congregation would pray for over that time: the church in distinct regions across the world, our stewardship of creation, the lonely and forgotten, the hurting and the dying, those in need of reconciliation, and all those who live their faith in service to others. Additionally, the congregation would give thanks for God’s good work of healing and renewal in Christ and for music, people and their gifts, and the promise of hope for tomorrow, among other prayers of thanksgiving. 

Because the prayers of thanksgiving and intercession from the daily prayer liturgy are so vast when considered as a whole unit, using them on a rotation could help diversify the congregation’s prayers. We each have causes and people that occupy a lot, if not all, of the space in our hearts. Sometimes we need to be guided beyond those petitions (without forgetting them) so that we can see both the breadth of the need in the world and the breadth of God’s loving response. Prayer is gentle enough to do that, and these prayers offer a reminder of the many ways people suffer, a call to respond to that suffering, and an inspiring list of the many things in our lives for which we should offer gratitude to God.

Finally, when we use components of the daily prayer liturgy in Sunday worship, we are reminded that we worship with the larger church. We do not have to be in the same place or even within earshot of one another to be connected. To utter the same words across space and time in joy and praise is to be the family of God across and through all space and time.

Midweek/Seasonal Worship

If your congregation has a midweek service, adds a midweek worship service during Advent and/or Lent, or wishes to do so, you might consider using the daily prayer liturgy for these services. The shorter and reflective nature of the liturgy adapts well to the longer nights of these liturgical seasons, and the Thanksgiving for Light (used in place of the Thanksgiving for Baptism) is a balm for congregations like ours that are further north.

Taizé services can make for nice midweek gatherings, especially during Advent and Lent, and I have found that many congregations use this style. The reflective chanting and long periods of silence can work well in these seasons. Where the Taizé style of worship relies on the repetitive nature of the sung word, however, the daily prayer liturgy uses the repetitive nature of the spoken word. If your congregation is not strong musically, the daily prayer liturgy might make sense. It may also be right for you if you desire those services to be focused around corporate prayer. The prayers of thanksgiving and intercession offer guided but spontaneous interaction in a way the sung Taizé chants do not when they ask, “People of God, for what else do you give thanks?” and “for what else do you pray?”

Within Studies and Meetings

Each time I lead a study, we open with prayer. Typically, that prayer is fairly short, but it doesn’t have to be. A study could begin by using the opening sentences and thanksgiving for baptism/light as its gathering words. This could even be followed by a psalm and silence before moving to the Scripture passage, other reading, or whatever else is being considered for discussion. Grounding the time together with the liturgy might help the study find more layers in their discussion and allow participants to feel more comfortable and safer in being vulnerable with one another. The study could close with the prayers of thanksgiving and intercession and then the words of dismissal. 

The daily prayer liturgy could also be used to help shape committee and session meetings. I struggled for a number of years to begin session meetings in a way that would help the elders see that all we do is an act of worship, even a session meeting. Actually, especially a session meeting! I wrote my own short service and led the music, but that took more time than I had available. Eventually, I decided to quit reinventing the wheel, and I gave my elders copies of the evening prayer liturgy. I put a candle and match in front of the chair of our Properties Committee and told him he’d know when to light it. I gave the Scripture readings to two other elders and then asked for volunteers to lead the other parts of the service. By the time we finished, most of our session members had led a piece of worship, spreading leadership responsibilities rather than me trying to do it all. It was a painful but profound lesson. I was less involved, and they were more involved. In our tradition, worship is at its best when we share ownership and it becomes a natural and corporate experience. That same pattern carried over into the meeting, and our conversation was more fruitful and less like pulling teeth. It was worship.

The use of the liturgy during our session meetings also offers a gentle transition for the elders as they arrive from work, making dinner for the family, school, or wherever else they have been and gather in the new space together. It helps them reset more easily than an immediate study or approval of the agenda and reminds them that they are sharing the space not just with one another but also with the Holy Spirit we trust to be at work in the discussion.

Committee meetings could be shaped in a similar way. If time does not allow, one suggestion would be to offer one part of the liturgy for every committee to use and to make it clear they are all gathering and/or closing with the same words just as they work and serve with the same mission in mind.

Spiritual Formation of Elders

We are reminded in our Book of Order that Presbyterian ruling elders are spiritual leaders, as they are called not only to govern but to nurture the congregation’s faith. They should be able to be called on to preach and to pray. But ordination alone does not make what one “should” be able to do something that is easy to do. As a pastor, I had the advantage of taking three years of my life to be immersed in the basics of worship leadership in seminary, and I still struggle with it at times. If elders are going to do this well alongside pastors, they too need training and words on which to lean. 

As we have begun session meetings with the daily prayer liturgy and our elders have begun to know its format and flow, they have started to use what they have learned and heard in that meeting in Sunday worship. Once again, the prayers of thanksgiving and intercession not only integrate easily into Sunday worship, but they also offer reliable and faithful words for elders to use to lead a time of corporate prayer. Not all elders are poets or writers. Not all are confident in crafting prayers on their own (another good opportunity, however, to grow those who can). But these challenges do not mean that elders cannot lead, listen, and shape a space for the congregation that allows our breath to draw near to God’s ears, and the daily prayer liturgy provides the words to do just that.

Whether you use the order of worship for the morning, midday, evening, or night liturgy, there is a lot of flexibility and possibility in the Book of Common Worship’s daily prayer liturgy. As with the online prayer group I am in, it might take some adapting to your context to figure out what works best. But the options are deep and wide enough to fit a number of uses and spaces. Finally, the use of the liturgy across congregational life helps us find common ground and roots us and our congregational families in faithful practices of discipleship. In a world that is often broken, sometimes fearful, and typically joyful, what else could we do? 

Bless the Lord. 
The Lord’s name be praised. 

Note

  1. Book of Common Worship (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2018), 874.
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