For me, the opening ten minutes of a Bible study or prayer
group are the worst. Chit-chat is a trigger for minor social anxiety: what can I talk about? Who should I talk to?
Where should I stand and does my arm look weird just hanging here like this?
What was God thinking when he made
arms like this? What was God thinking when he created humans to be in community
with each other. Community is awkward.
It’s fair to say that I don’t particularly shine in times of
unstructured conversation. But then we get to the meat of what we’re all there
for: Bible study or prayer or a discussion over a Christian book or podcast.
Everyone loosens up: ideas are shared, opinions traded, personal stories told.
We learn from one another and about one another.
And the intimacy deepens.
For many of us these are the golden moments during small
group time. They are the still and quiet hours of peace that keep us hungry for
more Christ and more community. We need these times of deep connection to keep our
hearts alive. We need to know others and be known by them.
And then the clock strikes midnight (or more commonly about
8 or 9 p.m.) and the spell is broken. The feelings of intimacy and acceptance
flee when the de facto leader of the group checks his watch. He maybe nods or sits
up or takes and lets out a loud breath. And then he speaks the words that are,
ironically, the death knell of intimacy:
“Anybody have any prayer requests?”
Crickets and silence. Silence as everyone studiously avoids
the questioner’s eyes. Each person begins to gaze into themselves, curating
their answers, tailoring their prayers by the standards of those listening.
Unfortunately, it’s hard to recognize that we’re part of the
problem. We make the standard by how
we respond to that question. Safe answers spring forth after the initial
silence:
·
I have a test coming up that’s worth most of my
grade.
·
Prayers for my great-grandma’s knee-replacement
surgery.
·
A coworker is being difficult. Pray that I can
handle the situation well.
These requests are safe because they are simple. A clear
problem exists; the need for God, obvious. Sometimes I imagine these requests
as mini intimacy-shields: we guard our deep wounds and hungers by offering safe
bait. If you offer a request for prayers about a coworker situation, no one
will look for the deeper problems like bitterness, rage or malice that are
eating you up.
The curvature of small group intimacy: we start with small
talk and then go deeper, curving into communion . . . and then curving right
out of it by offering requests on topics as intimate as those covered in the
first ten, awkward minutes.
We want intimacy, but we don’t want to be “that guy” who
burdens others with our problems. We don’t want to “overshare” and make people uncomfortable.
And we don’t want to talk about “trivial” things that would take away from the
intimacy, either.
What can we do?
Admit it’s an awkward
social situation and lean in. Awkwardness does not preclude holiness, but
rather is its prelude. Take off your shoes at the burning bush. Even if it’s
weird.
Honor the unstated
prayer requests. No one should have to stamp their statements as “Official
prayer requests” to get them prayed for. If someone mentions during informal
chit-chat time that they have a test, pray. And then text them the day of the
test to ask how it went.
Confess and praise. By
confessing your heart and sharing what joys God has brought you during the
week, you can share in intimacy even if you’re not going through a dark time.
Be prepared, be brave
and be merciful. Some prayers are hard to put into words. It takes
preparation to describe why something that seems trivial is derailing your
faith life. It takes bravery to admit you’re struggling with depression, and it
takes mercy to live alongside small group members whose depression is ongoing
or whose faith life is incomprehensible to you.
Be what you need others to be to you.
Don’t back away.
