How to pray with a stranger.
I could feel it—the nervousness, fear, and anxiety. I was about to pray for someone who was a stranger. I did not know if they were open to prayer. I did not know if they had positive experiences and would be receptive or if they had negative experiences and would turn me away.
Does reading this make you nervous?
I pray often. I pray silently over people. I pray quietly with individuals and directly with couples and families. I pray loudly with the hard of hearing. Many of these people are strangers to me. The first time I meet them is when I step into their home, assisted living facility, or hospital room to pray with them. I do not know what I will encounter. But I will experience many emotions, some stifled and shoved deep down inside, some expressive and uncontrolled.
A fellow chaplain asked me this question. “When you walk into a room to pray with someone, who do you encounter first?” I thought I had this one down. I told him, “The patient, of course.”
He smiled and ever so gently corrected me. “The first person you encounter when you pray with someone is yourself.”
This is the actual reality of our prayer life. When we offer to pray with someone, we encounter everything we believe and practice. We discover our wisdom or ignorance. Our faith or our fear. We engage with our willingness to do something that perhaps no one else is willing to do. It’s scary to encounter yourself. But that’s the first one you experience when you offer to pray with someone. Yourself, and your willingness to humbly learn and grow.
Choosing the People: I do not pray because it’s my job. I pray because I have the faith and the desire to obey Christ.
I do not have to pray with anyone. Although this is part of my responsibility when praying with people as a chaplain, I chart that I prayed or offered to pray with someone; I do not necessarily have to do it. The subject matter of their prayers is always between them and their God and their Pastor or Chaplain.
I never assume anyone wants to pray with me. I also never think I have the right to pray with anyone simply because I am their pastor or chaplain. If I have come to their home, hospital, or assisted living space, I always thank them for allowing me to enter their space. I always ask for permission to take their hand or lay my hands on them.
I offer, but do not assume.
I ask a person, “What matters most to you?” This often leads to them telling me things about themselves that they usually would not share. Suddenly and relatively quickly, a spiritual bridge is created, and as I listen.
I look for permission. Here’s a sample of some questions I might ask.
Can I pray for you today?
Would you be comfortable with us praying for your concerns?
Can I take your hand?
Do you have a Bible? Would you like me to help you get one?
Can I lay my hand on your shoulder?
May I anoint you with oil?
Is it alright if I leave now, or would you like me to stay a little while longer?
Can I help you or your family with anything else?
Is there anything I can get for you?
Is there anything else you would like to talk to me about today?
I do not ask all of these questions when I first meet someone. But these are a sampling of questions I might apply.
I recognize the season: I am not supposed to pray with this person every day, every hour, or have a longstanding relationship with this person. “God brought me here today to pray with you,” I often say after asking for permission and understanding. I reaffirm that God loves and cares about them, and God has done something good by bringing us together today. But I never believe the relationship is anything more than seasonal or momentary. What I have found is that God does this. He places us in other people’s lives for seasons or even moments. Our responsibility is to be kind, generous, responsible, and obedient. I often think, what if the Apostle Paul never did anything he was uncomfortable with?
Obedience: I have prayed for people, and they have died when I placed my hand on them or held their hand and felt their heartbeat slip away and their hands grow cold. I have prayed with people, and they have been healed of diseases and walked out of hospitals after surgeries. I have prayed with strangers on so many occasions. I do so because it is a part of our walk with Christ. I am responsible for being an example to the believers in speech, life, love, faith, and purity. And instruct men and women everywhere on how to fulfill their callings.
Objections:
I can’t do that, pastor.
I won’t do that.
I’m just not that kind of person.
I understand. But you are missing out on an opportunity to build a potential relationship for a season that might have eternal consequences.
I led a stranger to the Lord the other day several months back.
The person died. It was sudden and, for the family, unexpected. I was able to perform the funeral for the family. A couple came up to me afterward with tears in their eyes, they thanked me for leading their loved one to the Lord. “We knew we were the ones who were supposed to go two weeks before he died. But we didn’t go. We don’t know why…Thank you for praying with him.” Because I prayed with that one person I got to pray with his immediate family at his death bed. And then I got to pray over 50 people several times during his funeral. And. God. Heard. Every. Prayer.
Your light and momentary sense of inconvenience or fear of rejection might be a divine appointment that someone else, for whatever reason, has passed on. And prayer often leads to more prayer.
Make the offer, take the shot. Offer to pray with a stranger today. After that moment, they are no longer a stranger, and God may use you in future moments to help them take another step toward Jesus.