Please Pray

Three years ago this week, while I was serving as Head Chaplain at Episcopal School of Jacksonville,  a teacher who had been fired came on campus with an AK-47 style gun while classes were in session. He murdered our Head of School and then turned the gun on himself. It was unspeakably terrible.

Within an hour, multiple news vans were parked at the entrance of the school and everyone was demanding to know what had happened. A board member, the Rev. Kate Moorehead, soon became the spokesperson for our tragedy. "We are shocked and saddened. Please pray for us." She must have said this refrain into microphones over 100 times in the first 24 hours.

"We are very sad. Please pray for us."

The journalists weren't satisfied with her remarks. They wanted to get the full scoop. They wanted all the details. One journalist sent a blanket email to all faculty and staff, asking how well we knew the shooter and if there were any signs. Others walked into the middle of teacher gatherings and teary assemblies. It was upsetting and angering, but they were doing their jobs. They wanted to report the big story.

But "We are very sad. Please pray for us," was the story. Of course there were many more details, but those belonged with us, not the world.

Lent United is an experiment in discerning what belongs to us and what belongs to the world. Some stories are ours alone. Some details are meant to be private. And some are meant to be shared and hopefully much good comes of it. But to be clear: we do not owe the public our stories. They are ours to share, not theirs to be demanded. We can choose when and how to share our traumas, our joys, our frustrations.

The most important part of the story that Kate told the press was this, "please pray." It was an invitation for the whole world to become a part of our healing. No, every last detail did not belong to the public. But our healing did.

This is where Lent Unedited can be powerful for those of us willing to share some or all of our stories. We can choose what to say and how to say it, but I offer for you to end your story with, "please pray for me." Knowing that you are being held up in prayer is extremely powerful, and, I believe, does actually heal.

Soliciting prayers is an act of bravery and vulnerability. It's the real thing. It's admitting that we can't endure the ups and downs of life without the support of others and without the grace of God. It's telling the story of the way we belong to each other. What a terrifying, beautiful story to tell.