Carolyn Carney
Praying for Neighbors
A few years ago when I was in Costa Rica on a summer mission project with a group of college students, we were introduced to a strategy that has never left my memory. (Which says a lot since I have often wondered if my memory has not already been raptured.) And recently I introduced the strategy to a new group of college students who were looking for ways to make an impact for Christ on their respective campuses. Mary Anderson, who served with Christ for the Cities in Costa Rica for many years with her husband, Chip, and who now serve in the US office, was the one who introduced this concept to me.
The rationale for prayer mapping, as I remember it, came out of a desire to reach neighborhoods with the love of Christ. This strategy was not about a bold, public proclamation. Although, what they did was quite bold, it began by quietly serving. This was not canvassing the community by knocking on doors Saturday mornings and passing out literature. This was not setting up a soap box in the park and preaching. It was not getting into a friendly game of soccer and trying to eek Christ’s name into conversation during breaks in the action.
No, this strategy was truly subversive (from the Latin, subvertere – “to turn upside down”). The missionaries found that the community was so saturated by Mormons and Jehovah Witnesses proclaiming their truth that folks were reticent to engage in conversation with a pair of smiling people, too ready to unload their literature. The Mormons and Jehovah Witnesses were too antagonistic and folk were turned off; if they dared to even open their doors, the probability of slamming was great. The Christ for the Cities missionaries wanted another way and so turned the whole picture upside down by quietly, subtly praying for the needs of the neighborhood.
They first focused on a neighborhood where a couple of them lived and began to walk slowly, meditatively past their neighbors’ homes, quietly interceding for those they knew while asking God for wisdom and insight about how to pray for others not known to them. If neighbors were outside, they stopped and did the neighborly-thing: engaged in small talk, and then if it seemed right would tell the person that they were praying for the neighborhood and ask if they had anything to be prayed for.
Eventually a notebook was added to the exercise. A map was drawn of the neighborhood, listing street names, each house, house number, the name of the family if known, and any specifics known about the family, plus any prayer needs. If the identity of a family was not known, as the Christian walked by the house they would write down any “identifiable markings,” as if you were trying to determine the species of an unknown plant. For instance, if there were a child’s bicycle inside the gate, they would write, “child or children present.” Or if a statue of a saint was seen they might write, “Catholic.” This, then, gave direction to their prayers.
This “map” then would be prayed over. The church members would gather together to intercede for the neighborhood laying the map out on the table or floor between them. They prayed for specific needs, but also asked the Holy Spirit to inform and instruct their prayers, so they also listened. There were times when they fasted, too.
In time, they became known in the neighborhood. If you had a crisis in your family you knew where to turn. A knock on the door from these Christians was not cause for suspicion or defensiveness. Rather, it became an opening of the door and an invitation to relationship.
As God informed their prayers they gained boldness. Neighbors who had given prayer requests would be followed up and asked how it was going. This would often lead to discussion about faith, trust in an unseen God, God’s activity in the world, why the innocent suffer, hope, etc. Sometimes God would give a word of knowledge or wisdom to one of the pray-ers about a specific neighbor’s situation. This, too, would be followed up on in the hopes of God profoundly knocking on the door of someone’s heart.
A few years after this experience we tried prayer mapping on one of the campuses where I served with InterVarsity. It was spearheaded by a small group bible study I led in Decker Hall. About four or five of our group lived in Decker, spread out on different floors. It was a bold move for these young Christians to identify themselves with Christ and to have their actions so boldly state that they depended on an unseen God who listens to people’s prayers.
Our “results” surprised us: not one person turned us down. Everyone we talked to had something they wanted us to pray for. We prayed for lots of exams, but also for sick relatives and people’s faith issues. Yes, they were surprised, some even stunned, but somehow each one of them knew that not everything was right in their lives and that they needed supernatural help. Perhaps, that took as much faith for them as it did for us to go prayer mapping in the first place.
For a few summers I served on an evangelism project at a beach resort where our students got jobs on the boardwalk and focused on friendship evangelism. One of our responsibilities as staff was to visit the students at their jobs to see how things were going, to encourage them and perhaps pray with them if the need arose. I did a lot of walking up and down the boardwalk that summer and got to know some of the booth attendants at least by face, if not by name. I incorporated a version of the prayer mapping I’d learned and connected it more directly to evangelism.
Early one Saturday night, I remember, meeting a guy who worked one of those stalls of skill/chance, where you put your money down and throw a ball at an object trying to knock it down in order to win a price. This guy, who I’ll call Jose, did his usual hawking, not knowing what he was getting himself into. Feeling that it was not right to take advantage of this unsuspecting worker, I put my money down, did not win the prize, but then began to engage him in conversation (it was slow and not too many other potential customers were lurking around). Jose had some significant needs in his life and I asked if I could pray for him. The conversation followed like this:
Me: Jose, can I pray for you?
Jose: (hesitantly) Well, I guess.
Me: I mean, can I pray for you right now?
Jose: HERE?! (He looked anxiously up and down the boardwalk.) You want to pray for me right here?
Me: (I smiled and tried to reassure him.) It’s OK. You don’t have to say anything. We can both keep our eyes open and look at each other. Anyone who sees us will just think that we’re talking. (Then I leaned in a little closer and whispered with a sly grin on my face.) Nobody but us and God will know that we’re praying!
Jose agreed. I said a short, very specific prayer and mentioned his name before God. When I finished, Jose looked at me with a childlike wonder in his eyes. “Thank you. I have never heard someone pray for me out loud before.” I don’t remember what I said after that, but I left Jose that night, believing that God would work in his life and that at least in those moments, that young man, my neighbor was drawn a little closer to the living God.
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