My first job was in Nashville at a theme park, managing a live show that featured barnyard animals playing musical instruments. I'm not making this up. I had a piano playing pig, named Pigarace. I had a duck that played the drum named Bert…
My first job was in Nashville at a theme park, managing a
live show that featured barnyard animals playing musical
instruments. I'm not making this up. I had a piano playing
pig, named Pigarace. I had a duck that played the drum named
Bert Bachquack. You can imagine how proud my parents were.
I had my embarrassments and my setbacks, but I kept
writing. I moved to Los Angeles. I got an opportunity in
television. I married. We had two beautiful sons. I had
purpose in my life, and I worked like I'd seen my father
work, with pride and with passion. I'd won a multi-year
contract with a thriving company. I bought an old home and
remodeled it; I was promoted to producer. Except for an
occasional mishap with my tie, life was sweet.
Then the Writer's Guild went out on strike, which caused
the company I worked for to void its contract with me. The
strike went on forever, and when it was over the company was
barely there anymore. I was out of work, my savings were
gone. No one would return my phone calls--I'm sure that's
never happened where you work.
I kept trying, of course. I was always good at trying. But
one day I was sitting at my desk and I was staring at
nothing, my stomach in a knot, my hands trembling, and I
realized I was breaking down, as my father had. I feared I
had failed my father, and my mother and my grandmother. And
my greatest fear was that I would fail my sons. I was afraid
they would see me come apart, as I had seen my father come
apart, and it would be something they could never forget.
I got down on my knees; I had nowhere else to go. And I
prayed a simple prayer. I said ``Lord, all I care about right
now are those boys. And maybe they don't need to grow up in a
house with a tennis court and a swimming pool. Maybe they
need a little house with one bathroom, or no bathrooms at
all. Maybe they need to see what a man does when he gets
knocked down, the way my father showed me. But I pray, if I
go down, let me go down not on my knees, but with my flag
flying.''
And I got up and I began to write the words that led to
``Braveheart.''
Great writers like Robert Frost and Jane Austin have said
that an ending that does not surprise the writer won't
surprise the reader. When I wrote about William Wallace
standing on a battle field ready to die for what he believed,
I felt it and when I came to the end I wept.
Was that moment of prayer the single determining factor in
the arc of my whole life? Of course not. My teacher and
mentor in college, the great Thomas Langford, of Duke
University, once told us in class that no decision in our
lives stands alone; the trajectory of all other decisions
we've ever made points our direction for the future.
Our lives are unfolding stories, they are moving pictures.
If we took a freeze frame of Golgotha, on the day that Jesus
was crucified, and showed that picture to anyone unfamiliar
with the story and asked them to judge who the victor was in
that scene, they'd be unlikely to say: ``The one hanging on
the cross in the middle.''
It was from that cross that Jesus cried, ``My God! Why have
you forsaken me?''
That cry does not amaze me. What does amaze me is that
while one of the two thieves hanging on either said of Jesus
mocked Him, the other acknowledged the justice of his fate
and asked Jesus for help; and Jesus, in the agonies of
crucifixion, told him, ``Today you will be with me in
Paradise.'' That does more than amaze me. It makes me believe
that any power that could enable Jesus to say that, then,
could do anything.
And it seems to me that Jesus' response is the answer to
every prayer that thief never prayed. If God is God, then God
knows our prayers whether we pray them or not.
So why pray the prayers? To me, it's not because God needs
to know my prayers, but because I do.
Prayer sifts us like sand. Take any moment of our lives;
take this one. Here, in a room resonant with power. Did we
come this morning because we want to feel a closeness to
power? Do we come before God because what we truly want is to
use the ultimate power we imagine God has? Or do we fall to
our knees to admit the truth of our weakness--and stand
again, in the strength of that truth?
Jesus said the truth will set us free, and He said the
truth is: God is love.
It seems to me that the prayer that comes from Love is the
prayer that goes to God.
My father once told me a story of a man drowning in the
ocean. He cried out, ``Oh God! If you save me, I will spend
the rest of my life in serving You!'' A few moments later a
boat appeared and he was pulled from the water, and on the
way back to shore the man lifted his eyes to heaven and said,
Of course You do understand that I meant ``in
an advisory capacity.'' But life does not give us the option
of Advisory Capacity.
Tolstoy wrote in War and Peace that in a battle, one man
throwing down his weapon and running away can panic a whole
army, and in a panic, one man lifting up the flag and running
back toward the enemy can rally a whole army, and no one but
God knows what will happen, and when.
What if prayer is the way to glimpse God's true
intentions--the divine purpose for each of us? I'm no
theologian. I'm not looking for logic; I'm only trying to
find an understanding for my experience that prayer matters.
Does it change the mind of God? I don't know. I can only tell
you that it changes me.
When I was a boy we sang a hymn called ``Footsteps of
Jesus.'' Not everyone grew up as I did. I'm sometimes
described as a rarity, a filmmaker who might speak freely
about prayer. But really I'm not so unusual. All of us
dreamers in Hollywood are keenly aware of the falseness of
fame, the fleeting nature of beauty, the illusions of power.
And when I pray with or for my friends, my first concern is
not whether they follow the footsteps of Jesus, but whether I
do.
If I've led you to believe my life is any example of
righteousness, then maybe you're not familiar with the
Tennessee talent for stretching the truth. And even if I
could have stolen Mrs. Carter's Bible, I couldn't have kept
it. You might own the pages but you don't own the Bible until
you've lived it.
Some of you here lead nations. Some of you here lead the
world. All of us here have one heart inside us, and it is in
that one heart where the whole battle is fought.
There are as many ways to approach the great questions of
life as there are people on the earth. But every one of us
must stand alone before all that made us, and all that we
have been, and that we might be. And dying in your bed, many
years from now, would you not trade all the days from that
day to this for one chance, just one chance, to open your
heart before God Almighty, and to tell Him, ``I will lose my
life, and I will find it by loving in all the ways You lead
my heart to love.''
You have a prayer, pray it. Amen.
Congressman Miller: Thank you, Randall. Thank you for
inspiring all of us. And now it is my honor to introduce my
President, our President, the President of the United States
of America. We have an expression in Florida that you can
walk shoulder to shoulder with someone even if you don't see
eye to eye. That's the prayerful spirit in which we gather
today. It is the genius of our founders that we have one
President at a time and it is the higher genius of the
Scriptures that we are to pray for our leaders that we may
all lead quiet and peaceable lives. Mr. President, first we
thank you for your attendance and the strong support that you
have given this event and all of the activities that surround
it. I speak for all members of Congress here and for millions
across our country and around the world, we pray for you each
day as you lead our country. Ladies and gentlemen, the
President of the United States, Barack Obama.
President Barack Obama: Thank you so much. To the co-
chairs, Jeff and Ann; to all the members of Congress who are
here, the distinguished guests who have traveled so far to be
here this morning; to Randall for your wonderful stories and
powerful prayer; to all who are here providing testimony,
thank you so much for having me and Michelle here. We are
blessed to be here.
I want to begin by just saying a word to Mark Kelly, who's
here. We have been praying for Mark's wife, Gabby Giffords,
for many days now. But I want Gabby and Mark and their entire
family to know that we are with them for the long haul, and
God is with them for the long haul.
And even as we pray for Gabby in the aftermath of a tragedy
here at home, we're also mindful of the violence that we're
now seeing in the Middle East, and we pray that this violence
in Egypt will end and that the rights and aspirations of the
Egyptian people will be realized and that a better day will
dawn over Egypt and throughout the world.
For almost 60 years going back to President Eisenhower,
this gathering has been attended by our President. It's a
tradition that I'm proud to uphold, not only as a fellow
believer but as an elected leader whose entry into public
service was actually through the church. This may come as a
surprise, for as some of you know, I did not come from a
particularly religious family. My father, who I barely knew--
I only met once for a month in my entire life--was said to be
a non-believer throughout his life.
My mother, whose parents were Baptist and Methodist, grew
up with a certain skepticism about organized religion, and
she usually only took me to church on Easter and Christmas--
sometimes. And yet my mother was also one of the most
spiritual people that I ever knew. She was somebody who was
instinctively guided by the Golden Rule and who nagged me
constantly about the homespun values of her Kansas
upbringing, values like honesty and hard work and kindness
and fair play.
And it's because of her that I came to understand the equal
worth of all men and all women, and the imperatives of an
ethical life and the necessity to act on your beliefs. And
it's because of her example and guidance that despite the
absence of a formal religious upbringing my earliest
inspirations for a life of service ended up being the faith
leaders of the civil rights movement.
There was, of course, Martin Luther King and the Baptist
leaders, the ways in which they helped those who had been
subjugated to make a way out of no where, and transform a
nation through the force of love. There are also Catholic
leaders like Father Theodore Heshburg and Jewish leaders like
Rabi Abraham Joshua Heschel, Muslim leaders and Hindu
leaders. Their call to fix what was broken in our world, a
call routed in faith, is what led me just a few years out of
college to sign up as a community organizer for a group of
churches on the Southside of Chicago. And it was through that
experience working with pastors and laypeople trying to heal
the wounds of hurting neighborhoods that I came to know Jesus
Christ for myself and embrace Him as my Lord the Savior.
Now, that was over 20 years ago. And like all of us, my
faith journey has had its twists and turns. It hasn't always
been a straight line. I have thanked God for the joys of
parenthood and Michelle's willingness to put up with me. In
the wake of failures and disappointments, I have questioned
what God had in store for me and have been reminded that
God's plans for us may not always match our own short-sided
desires. And let me tell you, these past two years, they have
deepened my faith. The presidency has a funny way of making a
person feel the need to pray. Abe Lincoln said, as many of
you know, ``I have been driven to my knees many times by the
overwhelming conviction that I have no place else to go.''
Fortunately, I'm not alone in my prayers. My pastor friends
like Joel Hunter and T.D. Jakes come over to the Oval Office
every once in a while to pray with me and to pray for the
nation. The chapel at Camp David has provided consistent
respite for fellowship. The director of our Faith-based and
Neighborhood Partnership's office, Joshua DuBois, a young
minister himself, starts my morning off with meditations from
Scripture.
Most of all, I've got friends around the country--some who
I know, some who I don't know--but I know there are friends
who are out there praying for me. One of them is an old
friend named Kaye Wilson. In our family we call her Mama
Kaye. And she happens to be Malia and Sasha's Godmother. And
she has organized prayer circles for me all around the
country. She started small with her own Bible study group,
but once I started running for President, and she heard what
they were saying about me on cable, she felt the need to pray
harder. By the time I was elected President, she said, ``I
just couldn't keep up on my own. I was having to pray eight,
nine times a day just for you.'' So she enlisted help from
around the country.
It's also comforting to know that people are praying for
you who don't always agree with you. Tom Coburn, for example,
is here. He is not only a dear friend but also a brother in
Christ. We came into the Senate at the same time. Even though
we are on opposite sides of a whole bunch of issues, part of
what has bound us together is a shared faith, a recognition
that we pray to and serve the same God. And I keep praying
that God will show him the light and he will vote with me
once in a while. It's going to happen, Tom. A ray of light is
going to beam down.
My Christian faith then has been a sustaining force for me
over these last few years. All the more so, when Michelle and
I hear our faith questioned from time to time, we are
reminded that ultimately what matters is not what other
people say about us but whether we're being true to our
conscience and true to our God. ``Seek first his Kingdom and
his righteousness and all these things will be given to you
as well.''
As I travel across the country folks often ask me--what is
it that I pray for? And like most of you, my prayers
sometimes are general: ``Lord, give me the strength to meet
the challenges of my office.'' Sometimes they're specific:
``Lord, give me patience as I watch Malia go to her first
dance where there will be boys. Lord, have that skirt get
longer as she travels to that dance.''
But while I petition God for a whole range of things, there
are a few common themes that do occur. The first category of
prayer comes out of the urgency of the Old Testament prophets
and the Gospel itself. I pray for my ability to help those
who are struggling. Christian tradition teaches that one day
the world will be turned right side up and everything will
return as it should be. But until that day, we're called to
work on behalf of a God that shows justice and mercy and
compassion to the most vulnerable.