I recently had a conversation that was all about prayer. Most of us hold at least a general intellectual ascent to the idea of defining prayer as our conversations with God, and as most of us would agree, healthy conversations are often dialogues – they involve both speaking/communicating and listening/receiving. The speaking/communicating part comes fairly naturally to most of us, although not for all. But the real challenge for most of us is the second part – the listening/receiving element.
In Speech Act Theory, all communication is categorized into three elements:
- Locutionary: This refers to the communication/message itself. This includes written and spoken messages, but also artistic portrayals that engage our sight, hearing, taste or other senses.
- Illocutionary: This refers to the originally intended message from the sender – the communicator.
- Perlocutionary: This refers to the message that was received and interpreted by the recipient.
One of the reasons I like this simple model is that it draws attention to our obvious miscommunication proclivities. Like it or not, the messages we convey are not always the same messages that are received. And we can appreciate this to an extent – my worldview, my experiences, my thoughts and even my personality are uniquely different from yours, and so it follows reasonably that each word or expression or idea will mean something a little different to each of us. Even if every other factor is static/unchanging, the very fact that we are dynamic and ever-changing lends to a world of varied perceptions and interpretations.
But when we’re applying these concepts to prayer, the illocutionary and perlocutionary elements are the easy part. Where it truly starts to get interesting is when we begin examining the locutionary element.
There’s an old, flawed expression: “The medium can change, but the message stays the same.” Preston Sprinkle, in his book Flickering Pixels presents compelling evidence that the medium – the method of our communications – actually changes the message itself, as well as how it is received.
To use a simple illustration, a person might ask “What is coffee?” I might respond with a description of coffee, or even explain its history and various harvesting and brewing methods. But I could instead answer by showing a handful of coffee beans, or even a cup of brewed coffee, and this visual would create a different perlocutionary reception. Alternatively I could encourage the asker to listen to sound of coffee being poured into a cup, or the sound of coffee beans being ground up. Perhaps they could smell the coffee, or even taste the coffee. Every one of these would be valid answers to the question of “What is coffee?” but each medium changes the perlocutionary element – the message/answer that is received.
And so when we pray, and specifically in our times of listening to the Holy Spirit, it can be helpful to remember that God often communicates with us in unique and interesting ways. When we are not careful, or attentive, or heaven-forbid we’re stubborn, we can miss out on something beautiful, wondrous, and significant.
Think of how music can move us and connect with us in a way that’s different than words. A minor key can evoke sorrow or mystery. A major key can evoke happiness or resolution.
The voice of God is the voice of Spirit – of heart and soul. It is the resonance of truth, the wonder of beauty, and the warmth of love. And so it is different, but no less real or significant than the words we speak with others.
We can, of course, use words in our conversations with God, and He sometimes uses words with us (mostly through the Word), but much of the time it is more of a joining of our spirit with the Spirit of God, and with “utterances too deep for words.”