Friday, May 9, 2008 at 10:10am
Lord, Our hearts are full, our pockets are empty
Column: Religio-Consumer
“Lord, our hearts are full, our pockets are empty… deliver us from these high gas prices,” prayed Rocky Tyman, at a San Francisco Chevron station. Although the 59-year-old community organizer drew small crowds of church-goers to his pump-side vigils, the nation’s news outlets and blogosphere ate him up. From DC to California, the message was getting out, turn to God at the pump.
"God is the only one we can turn to at this point," said Tyman. "Our leaders don't seem to be able to do anything about it. The prices keep soaring and soaring."
Does Tyman genuinely believe it really works, or is he evangelistically capitalizing on people’s misfortunes? My guess is a mixture of the two, but the “we hit rock-bottom” prayer dynamic makes a great 20 second bit on the six o’clock news.
At first glance, Tyman’s gesture of asking God to affect the price of gasoline seems a bit silly, even presumptuous, but his plea grew on me. Just like any other prayer at the pump participant, when I do not know what else to do, I turn to God for deliverance.
A good friend, now at divinity school, once explained to me that there will always be a need for religion. He stated very simply, “because people will always be born, get married and die.” I could not comprehend the significance of his foresight, until I experienced the loss of control associated with these life events.
Pulling off my wedding was a nerve wracking marathon of personnel organization, existential decisions and financial difficulty. Through the entire ordeal, I prayed, “Dear God, is she the one? Dear God, till death do us part or longer? Dear God, how the heck am I going to pay for this?”
Having my first baby was likewise a nerve wracking marathon. On top of life style changes and physical preparation, the birthing process brought me closer to the “death stage of life” than I have ever been before. There is no worse feeling than a husband having no control over the pains of his wife. “Dear God, please protect her. Dear God, I would like to do something more than just stand around. Please God, ten fingers and ten toes!” I silently prayed for 26 hours.
In both of these instances, I found my self more adamantly wishing, hoping and pleading with God for a positive outcome. The necessity of the moment brought me back to the humble state of child. Fortunately, in each instance my final prayer was a whispered thank you for getting us through this.
Tymon’s simple message may be comical to some, perhaps even unto himself, but his actions remain metaphorical to religion’s unmoving place in the community.
The prayer at the pump group could alter their message a bit, to allow asking for specific geo-political miracles. Prayers for peace in the Middle East can lower the “conflict premium” paid on mercantile contracts of light sweet crude. Perhaps prayers for thriftiness in the Far East can curb Chinese industrial demand. But even without changing, I think the group has something going for them.
Perhaps I will whisper a little prayer on my next trip to the pump.
Perhaps we will all be whispering a thank you to God when we make it through these prices somehow.
"God is the only one we can turn to at this point," said Tyman. "Our leaders don't seem to be able to do anything about it. The prices keep soaring and soaring."
Does Tyman genuinely believe it really works, or is he evangelistically capitalizing on people’s misfortunes? My guess is a mixture of the two, but the “we hit rock-bottom” prayer dynamic makes a great 20 second bit on the six o’clock news.
At first glance, Tyman’s gesture of asking God to affect the price of gasoline seems a bit silly, even presumptuous, but his plea grew on me. Just like any other prayer at the pump participant, when I do not know what else to do, I turn to God for deliverance.
A good friend, now at divinity school, once explained to me that there will always be a need for religion. He stated very simply, “because people will always be born, get married and die.” I could not comprehend the significance of his foresight, until I experienced the loss of control associated with these life events.
Pulling off my wedding was a nerve wracking marathon of personnel organization, existential decisions and financial difficulty. Through the entire ordeal, I prayed, “Dear God, is she the one? Dear God, till death do us part or longer? Dear God, how the heck am I going to pay for this?”
Having my first baby was likewise a nerve wracking marathon. On top of life style changes and physical preparation, the birthing process brought me closer to the “death stage of life” than I have ever been before. There is no worse feeling than a husband having no control over the pains of his wife. “Dear God, please protect her. Dear God, I would like to do something more than just stand around. Please God, ten fingers and ten toes!” I silently prayed for 26 hours.
In both of these instances, I found my self more adamantly wishing, hoping and pleading with God for a positive outcome. The necessity of the moment brought me back to the humble state of child. Fortunately, in each instance my final prayer was a whispered thank you for getting us through this.
Tymon’s simple message may be comical to some, perhaps even unto himself, but his actions remain metaphorical to religion’s unmoving place in the community.
The prayer at the pump group could alter their message a bit, to allow asking for specific geo-political miracles. Prayers for peace in the Middle East can lower the “conflict premium” paid on mercantile contracts of light sweet crude. Perhaps prayers for thriftiness in the Far East can curb Chinese industrial demand. But even without changing, I think the group has something going for them.
Perhaps I will whisper a little prayer on my next trip to the pump.
Perhaps we will all be whispering a thank you to God when we make it through these prices somehow.