Sunday, July 24, 2022

Praying from the Inside Out: Sermon for Proper 12C

(1)


You know, there are times when it is hard as a preacher to decide which text calls out to be preached.

This week is not one of those times.

I mean-- whew! Did you get a load of that passage from Hosea? Hmmm.... preach about a prophet being forced to make his life into performance art to make a point about his people's unfaithfulness-- and that word "whoredom" smacking us right in the face? No thank you.

Then, our epistle, and 15 years as a middle school teacher finding out that kids confused circumcision with sterilization tells me to back away from that one too. Nope.

So it was rather easy to settle on the gospel today, with its topic of prayer. Because I have found that, no matter how many times we talk about it, prayer is one of those things that can be very hard, and cannot be investigated enough. Because there's a lot of difficulty around prayer.

As I look over this pericope in 2022, I have to be honest: there are times that I just feel too tired, too worn out, too overwhelmed to pray. I may be exhausted, or feel spiritually dry. I’m not in the right headspace, or heart space. I don’t have the right attitude or discipline.

That’s why it is important to remember that we never pray alone. As disciples, the mere fact that we are here together in worship reminds us that prayer is a communal act. The fact that we Episcopalians speak of “common” prayer reminds us how foundational it is to always remember that our prayers join with others. To remember that our prayer with others includes everything from our opening words, through hymn singing, through hearing the word of God, through the prayers of the people, through sharing the peace with those who are visiting as well as those we know. Our common prayer continues through the Great Thanksgiving, in which we recount God’s saving help to humanity all throughout history; through sharing in the bread and wine; all the way through to the dismissal and then continues right out into the street and the rest of the week. 

All of that is prayer, and it is prayer done as a community.

Jesus doesn’t say we have to have any of the right attitudes, the right disciplines, the perfect words. I think of this prayer by St. Teresa:

Teach me, if Thou wilt, to pray:
If Thou wilt not, make me dry.
Give me love abundantly
Or unfruitful let me stay.
Sov’reign Master, I obey.
Peace I find not save with Thee.
What wilt Thou have done with me? (2)

So maybe we are brought up short when we want to pray, and so we look for a formula, which Jesus here provides. But Jesus teaches us here that to pray is to first acknowledge that God is God, and we are not. In other words, we start with praise. Praise that God is holy, from God’s very name outward. 
In fact, Jesus starts with reminding us that God is in intimate relationship with us. Jesus calls God Father, and we can too-- or Mother, or Friend, or Lover, or Beloved, or Creator. If any of those words has negative meaning for you, use another. Just remember that God loved you before you even knew the word "God." Jesus even points out that God always wants us to have good things, just like a loving parent wants to give their children eggs instead of snakes or scorpions.

And you know, I had an experience this week about that. I was getting into our pool, and just as I was getting ready to swim some laps suddenly saw something swim by and realized there was a snake in my pool. 


Let me tell you, I walked on water better than Peter ever did. I practically levitated outta that pool, and stood there gasping on the deck as this reptile took a victory lap in MY pool. And being the church nerd I am, I thought of this gospel passage and prayed for God to change that snake into an egg. But no such luck. I had to scoop the critter out myself and deposit him elsewhere. And sometimes our prayers remind us that we can't just ask God to perform magic tricks to get us out of confronting our fears and doing the dirty work. And after all, God loves that snake and much as God loves me.

Now, you will notice that the version we get here in Luke's gospel is pretty short, and has a lot of things missing that we are used to saying. And there are dozens if not hundreds of versions of this prayer just in the English language alone. I am convinced it s a good thing to occasional pray one of those other versions from time to time, and to sit down an examine the version we most often say, just to remind ourselves what is actually in there-- and what is not. To remind ourselves that words count.

The New Zealand Prayer Book (3), for instance, has an expansive version of the Lord’s Prayer, as one would expected from a province that seeks to reflect the cultures of three distinct groups of people. 



It has about 15-20 words just to take the place of that word "Father" that we get in our gospel. It even uses a trinitarian formation. I encourage you to look up this prayer and spend some time with it. Here's one thing that's interesting--How much of that prayer is praise? More than half of it. We get almost two-thirds of the way through that prayer before we ask God for anything. I think that is a wonderful reminder to us all, too, about prayer not just a wish-fulfillment.

Jesus reminds us that our purpose in following God is not to get God to do our bidding, but for us to surrender to God. One of the most beautiful hymns I still treasure from my childhood sitting next to my grandma in her Baptist church says it best:

All to Jesus I surrender, All to Him I freely give;
I will ever love and trust him; In his presence daily live.
I surrender all--- I surrender all
All to Thee, my blessed Savior, I surrender all. (4)

God’s kingdom coming means a time when we do not anesthetize ourselves to the suffering of others by clinging to a system that is designed to sort everything into a small category of winners and la large host of losers in various degrees. God’s kingdom is one where we don’t keep trying to get God to do our bidding, but we surrender with joy to God as our only sovereign, our Creator who continually calls us into living as if we really believed that we are made in the image of God—in the image of one whose wisdom and love sustains everything around us, throughout the universe and across time and space. God’s kingdom is built on our surrender, but it is joyful because, as this prayer teaches us, our entire lives are an edifice, either resilient or fragile. Our entire lives are an edifice, resilient and resplendent, if they rest upon trust in God.

For this prayer is a prayer of trust:

Trust that we have a real relationship with God. Trust that our relationship with God began before we even knew the word God, and that that relationship will continue even beyond our earthly lives.

Trust that God is our Maker, our Father, our Mother, Creator, Source, Friend, Lover-- the One who tenderly loves us each the best, whatever word that most means that to you. Think of it. Has anyone seen the images from the James Webb telescope the last few weeks? The marvels we can now see from this amazing universe made and sustained by God? And here's an even greater wonder: The same God who made each of those nebula and constellation and black hole looked around this amazing universe and decided the universe needs one of you just as badly. God loves us eternally-- and even plants the dust of stars within our bones and sinews.



We pray because we trust that God will sustain each of us. In giving us the bread we need today so that we may have strength tomorrow, that we may use that strength to help make God’s kingdom of love, mercy, justice and grace visible upon this beautiful Earth that, as our beloved, living home, sustains us and embraces us in each and every second of our lives.

Trust that God forgives us our sins. We may flinch at the thought of sitting down and really examining ourselves to see what sins we have committed, or supported with our silences. Or we may take account of our sins frequently, and feel the weight of guilt and shame. Yet, when we acknowledge that we have sinned, and determine to amend our lives and work to restore our relationships through honesty and responsibility, we find God’s forgiveness always there, cooling and soothing the parched walls of our shattered hearts.

And then notice what our translation says: Since we have been forgives our sins, we can forgive everyone indebted to us. What does it mean to consider a sin against us as a debt? I think this provides a precious insight into human nature. Don’t we consider that those who have hurt us owe us something—an apology, compensation, a period of grovelling? There’s a phrase that’s sometimes used when lauding someone who has done something heroic, like the delivery driver who ran into a burning home and rescured five children single-handedly. We often say we owe them a debt of gratitude. 

Reciprocally, if we trust in God as our ultimate home and heart, we can also use the gratitude we feel at God’s abundant grace to ourselves embody forgiveness and grace to others who have wronged us. We can pay off our debt of gratitude by paying that forgiveness forward. By doing so, we free ourselves from the chains or resentments and anger at the hurt we have endured, and we have once again taken seriously the obligation laid upon us by the blessing of being created in the image of God.

So why does Jesus have us end here in Luke’s version with praying not to be led to the time of trial? Well, if we have taken seriously the cataloguing of our sins and our clinging to old resentments and grievances, we already have a sneaking suspicion that a time of trial is something at which we most likely will fail. Just as we trust in God to give us the bread we need for today, we trust in God to not simply throw tests at us to see if we will pass or fail. One translation, the one that we pray at our main service each Sunday, actually asks God not to lead us into temptation. I always scoff at that line in my heart when we say it. Because if one thing is certain, it’s that we don’t need to God to lead us to temptation, we can find it just fine all on our own. See also the phrase: “The Devil Made Me Do It.” Thus, again here we are called to trust in God to offer us guidance and lead us aright when we ourselves wander into the quicksand.

Praying this prayer, then, is a prayer for strength to be soft where the world is hard,
To be strong enough to be forgiving and merciful where the world is merciless,
To be reflective of God’s abundant love and wisdom in a world that too often seeks to hit first rather than see the woundedness around each of us and offer good things rather than adding bad to bad, like offering a child a snake or a scorpion.

Praying as Jesus taught us is a reminder that there are actions which count as prayer, starting with listening. Sometimes, the best prayer of all is when we say nothing, but merely invite God into our hearts and into our lives. We don’t have to do all the talking.

Sometimes prayer is not merely in words at all. The beloved poet Mary Oliver started her poem “Six Recognitions of the Lord” with this observation:
“I know a lot of fancy words.
I tear them from my heart and my tongue.
Then I pray.”


Amen.



This was preached at the Saturday 505 Eucharist and the Sunday 10:30 Eucharist at St. Martin's Episcopal Church in Ellisville, MO, on July 23-24, 2022, the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost.


Readings:

Citations:
1) The Lord's Prayer in Catalan, wall hanging from La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, my photo.
2) St. Teresa of Jesus, Works of St. Teresa, Vol. 3, p. 280.
3) From New Zealand Prayer Book: He Karakia Mihinare o Aotearoa.
4) Verse 1 of "I Surrender All," by Judson W. Van De Venter (1855-1939).
5) Image of the Southern Ring Nebula from the James Webb telescope, NASA/ESA found at https://time.com/6196675/five-james-webb-telescope-images-explained/
6) Mary Oliver, from Thirst, 2006.

No comments:

Post a Comment