Sermon

In June, I attended the funeral of my high school’s campus minister. When the time came in the service for the Lord’s Prayer, a young woman in her late teens approached the podium. With no music, and no accompaniment, she began to sing. Our printed bulletins being no help, as all they said was “Lord’s Prayer” and the girl’s name, we the congregation abandoned our attachments to prescribed order, and slowly, but steadily gaining and growing in conviction, joined in. It was the “good old version” that somehow nearly everyone knew. And by the time we reached “for thine is the kingdom,” the whole assembly was praying with fullest strength of heart. It was powerful. It was prayer.

There’s a religion professor who said in class once, “God, thank you for this rain, for it helps us appreciate the sunshine.” That’s prayer. A child prays with his parents before bed each night, a teenager murmurs a quick, “God, help me,” before an exam, a Bible study group closes by reading a psalm together, a homeless person cries a wordless appeal toward heaven. It’s all prayer. At my college I’m a member of the Chapel Choir, where we close each rehearsal by singing the first verse of “Go, My Children,” and I play in the Band, where we close each concert by playing “Nearer, My God, to Thee,” and singing (yes, our band sings) “The Lord Bless You and Keep You." That’s prayer. An artist picks up brush and paint and pours out his soul onto canvas. That can be prayer.

For, what is prayer but communication with God? And wow, it seems there are a lot of ways to communicate with God. Words, music, colors, body language, laughter, tears, joy, anger. So many ways to pray. And with so many ways to pray… is there a right way to prayer? As a church music major, I wonder… is it better to chant a psalm , or to sing a hymn by Martin Luther? Is worship accompanied by an organ better prayer than three friends mumbling a quick blessing before a meal? Is a prayer full of praise and thanksgiving better than a prayer full of sorrow and accusation? Perhaps to answer those sorts of questions, we must first ask, why do we pray?

We pray in church as worship. We do “PTA” prayers: Praising, Thanking, Asking. We pray for good weather on vacation and for rain for farmers. We pray for guidance for our leaders and we pray for the health of our children. But why? Who does prayer benefit?

Is prayer for us? Like in the Gospel, we tell God what we want, and then we’ll get it, right? Luke tells us that if we ask God for an egg, God’s not going to hand us a scorpion. But then again, I can easily picture God as the mom who would very likely hand me a plate of broccoli if I asked for a cookie. God watches out for our health—in all areas of our lives—not just what we think we want and what we say is best for us.

So who is prayer for? Is it for God? Do we have to keep God up-to-date so that God doesn’t loose touch with what’s happening in the world? But… God’s with us, so doesn’t God know already? Oh! Maybe it’s like the dad who gets the call from the principal: “Your child was fighting in school today…” but when the school day is over, he still asks, “so, how was your day… anything you want to tell me about?” Or what about the accident you see on 495 and go home and look up on the news to see what happened—even though you were there. God knows what happens… but still wants to hear it from us simply to hear it from us. The human element. How we saw what happened. So who is prayer for?


Jesus and his disciples were hanging out and Jesus goes off to a “certain place” to pray. I can imagine the disciple watching him from a distance, asking each other, “how does he do that?” Or perhaps, “what’s he praying that takes so much time? Why does he do it so often? How can we be like him in how we pray?” So Jesus comes back over and they ask him: “Lord, teach us to pray.” And Jesus says, “Oh, something like this…” But then he doesn’t stop after what we now call the Lord’s Prayer. He keeps going. He tells a parable that ends with further prayer instruction. Ask. Seek. Knock. Be persistent.

I imagine that the disciples were probably just as baffled by prayer as we are today. To dare to talk to the divine. Even Abraham was cautious in speaking to the Lord. How can we, mere mortals that we are, approach the Holy? For that matter, how can the Holy understand us? Maybe that’s why the disciples approached Jesus about prayer. As Paul says in our second reading today, “For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily.” Jesus bridges that gap between Holy and human. In Christ there is communication between crowned and crippled, understanding between creator and created, and relationship between eternal and mortal. Lord, teach us to pray.


There are so many ways to pray: in a congregation, by yourself, with a congregation, leading a congregation, singing, speaking, writing, drawing, prayers that are already written, prayers you pray as your heart thinks up the words, already written prayers that you make into a new experience as you go along—like my experience at the funeral in June.

Lord, teach us to pray. What is the right way to pray, we want to get it right. Well, unfortunately for humanity’s desire for a simple, straight answer from God, we’re not going to get one this time, either. As so very often happens in matters of God and theology: there is no black and white.

So let’s get back to: who is prayer for? Prayer, defined by Luis de Grenada as “any raising of the heart to God,” is for relationship with God. To pray—to communicate with the divine—is to open yourself up to the possibility of a deep, profound relationship with God. A relationship so strong that nothing—not even death—could ever break it. And so the question becomes how to build that relationship. How do we pray in a way that cultivates our relationship with God and makes prayer two-way deal? We are human, we are aware, painfully even sometimes, of that gap that Jesus bridges. We need relationship with God because we need God. Prayer is for both sides. Prayer is that relationship with God. So how do we do it?

Lord, teach us to pray.

How about the key to making any relationship “successful”? Honesty. They told us at freshman orientation at college it was the way to get along with a new roommate. It’s what they told me at the beginning of the summer was how to have a good internship experience right here. Be open, be honest. If there were a straightforward answer to “what’s the right way to pray?” I think that “be honest” would be it. If we are honest with God (and that involves being honest with ourselves!), our relationship with God will grow and deepen and bear fruit. Whether that honesty is a psalm, a hymn, a shout of joy, an argument of frustration, or a silent sigh of despair.

So we are back to, “Lord, teach us to pray.” Lord, helps us to be in a relationship with you. Help us to find the means—be it words, music, crayon, paint—help us find the means to be honest with you. Encourage us to tell you when we’re joyful, when we’re doubtful, when we’re angry. Be patient with us as you were patient with Abraham. Be gentle as with a frightened child. Lord, teach us to pray. Guide us ever into fuller relationship with you. Give us the courage it takes to be honest. As the disciples asked Jesus so long ago: Lord, teach us to pray. Amen.

amen

I want a cat. I know that I haven't been too good at keeping my violet happy, but it doesn't let me know when it is sad. A cat, I firmly believe, will not just sit on the windowsill and sulk until I notice it. Hungry, a cat might check its food bowl to see if there is food. Siniy just sat there, moping. (She seems to be recovering... there is hope!)I want a cat.

Polyanna

Well. Traveling today has been yuck.
For one, and most annoying, is that while I have free wireless internet in this lovely hotel room that I have to stay in because I'm stuck in Cedar Rapids and the airline wouldn't even pay for it, my computer is a piece of shine and won't let me stay connected for more than two seconds at a time. Grr. I need a new wireless adapter. Grr.

But I'm managing to see the light in some moments.
Example: the new airline I heard of today. Aliegant Air. (Giggle) Try it. Say it out loud. Confuse those around you. Aliegant Air. Or, as it sounds when said aloud, especially over the PA system in the airport: Leigonair. Like the mold spores. Hee.
And the internet SSID for this place is called Innflux.

Or how 'bout the fact that I'm paying over a hundred dollars for this shiny room... which has two queen size beds. And there is totally only one of me. Argh.

Or something I am actually smiling about: they almost sent me to Atlanta to get to Baltimore. Instead I'm going through Cinncincati. Random.

But it's late, and it will probably take me awhile to get this actually posted. All I want is to have this trip finished!

But hey: at least I'm not at the Krawl Inn!

four miles walked

It turns out that the DC metro runs two hours later during the weekends than it does during the weekdays. Which is fine, unless you're trying to get to church early and don't know about this schedule delay. And you walk to your metro stop, see that it's closed, and think "Oh, I'll just keep going on Connecticut Ave, and either hit an open metro, or the church." Which is entirely true, and would have happened. If I had actually turned on Connecticut instead of staying on my faithful L street.
Oops.
So I got lost in a part of downtown DC that a young female probably shouldn't go getting lost in, even at 6:45 on a Sunday morning. And then I called my dad and got directions to Dupont Circle, which was nearby, has its own metro stop, and has Connecticut Ave on it. At the Dupont Circle metro stop I find out that the first train doesn't run until 7:30. It was 7:03 at the time, so I decided to keep walking. I ended up waiting fifteen minutes for the train at the next metro stop I got to, because by that point I could barely keep standing, and I needed to get to church in time for services.  
I left "home" at 6:20, and made it to church at about 8. It's normally a forty minute trip. Four miles I walked, not including the return trip, which adds on about a mile. Four miles. In heels. Very uncomfortable heels.
So I now have several beautiful new blisters and I'm going to sleep very solidly.