Whenever somebody wants me to do something I get a bit worried because it probably means they have miscalculated my capabilities. It’s not that I’m unwilling to lend a hand, but I truly am the quintessential village idiot who can barely tie his own shoes. I have no talent whatsoever for much of anything. Jason asked if I would write an occasional piece for the Holy Smokers website. I agreed to do so, but I am merely a mediocre writer who really has little worth saying. If you’re expecting insightful commentary on how to live a victorious Christian life and still smuggle Cuban cigars out of Canada, you’ll be sorely disappointed. I have nothing to offer on the subject of spirituality. My personal experience with discipleship essentially amounts to a daily struggle against total apostasy. Frankly, I stink at following Jesus. Trust me, folks, none of this is hyperbole. The only thing I bring to the Blog is 40 years of involvement with pipes and tobacco. That’s it; that’s all I’ve got. Thankfully, however, God incorporates irony into His providence . . . especially since, today’s topic is, ironically, Pipe Smoking and Prayer!
Back in 1978 a Baptist preacher gave the first pipe I ever owned to me. He was a Calvinist who filled his office with the musty scent of dead theologians and the aroma of Captain Black. I would visit him occasionally, and he’d often puff away as we discussed the tenets of Calvinism. From those days until now I’ve always appreciated the wonderful association between pipes and religion. Smoking a pipe (or a stogie) while praying to God eventually became something of a religious discipline I’ve been doing for decades at this point. About 30 years ago I even carved a pipe specifically for that purpose.
Long ago I jettisoned the idea of praying just to get things from God. He is not a heavenly vending machine. You don’t pop in a request and out comes a blessing. The Lord’s Prayer invites us to ask for what we need, of course, but even those requests fall within the broader context of humble submission to divine sovereignty. God isn’t a cosmic Genie; our wish is not His command. Prayer should never be regarded as a commercial transaction. Rather, it’s a matter of mutual self-disclosure in which the Lord reveals Himself through His Word and we unveil ourselves before Him through our words. A conversation of such magnitude necessarily requires a significant measure of time.
Thankfully, a pipe can’t be hurried. The entire ritual of packing the tobacco, lighting up, and the pauses between puffs are all conducive to the contemplative ambiance and time required for a good talk with God. When I smoke a Balkan blend in His presence I’ve automatically committed myself to a half-hour session, maybe longer. Furthermore, I’m less guarded while smoking and, thus, far more transparent in what I say.
Whatever briar (meerschaum or corncob) one may choose is okay, but be finicky about the pipeweed. Seeking God is the main event here. Pack your choice with a nice tobacco, certainly, but not one so good that the blend draws attention to itself and away from Him. Praying with a pipe in hand provides a fine liturgical interplay between reading Scripture and petitioning heaven as your meditative supplications rise to the Throne of Grace with periodic plumes of smoky incense. I highly recommend it as an occasional form of lectio divina.
One more thing. I’m pretty sure God prefers English/Balkan tobaccos over aromatics. And you should, too.
Soli Deo gloria!
