These Stones Will Cry Out--Palm Sunday 3-28-10

Scripture: Luke 19: 28-40 (click on Scripture passage to go to Biblegateway)

“These Stones Will Cry Out”     Sermon Preached at Open Circle 3-28-10—Palm Sunday

When you think about it, today is a bittersweet celebration.  And although the folks on the road along the way don’t see what is coming—it is clear they know that change is in the air.  And so we begin, along with Jesus, a final descent into Jerusalem and the day of reckoning that would just not go away.

Many of us remember waving palms and shouting hosanna from the time we were very young—and we like the idea of hailing Jesus as both an earthly and heavenly ruler especially since we know what is coming up on down the road—and we all want to be on the side of that road—to praise and honor this Jesus before the religious and political leaders of His world drag Him off to die.  And we must not lose sight of the fact that this is a very long week in the life of Jesus of Nazareth and in the life of the Church.  We start the week in Hosannas and end it in the quiet despair of Good Friday.  It takes the beginning of another week for the hosannas to turn to hallelujahs and we have much about which to think in the meantime.  

Here is my translation of the Pharisees’ request to Jesus and His response during the celebration:  “Jesus, tell these people to be quiet—they are going to get us all in trouble, and then where will we be?  We have things we need to get done here, it’s important to keep our priorities in mind—even if we believe that You are who You say you are and that You did all those miracles, it won’t help our cause to get on this bandwagon.  Your issues are not our issues…tell them to hush!’’ Jesus says, “Your priorities are not strong enough to quiet these people…they know what is really important, and even if I could get them to stop, what I stand for and that is the coming reign of God’s justice—is so powerful that these very stones would cry out!”  Now I ask you, has anyone ever told you or a group you were in to hush?  To not spread the good news that Jesus died for all of us and that God loves us all just the way we are?  For that is the truth of the in-breaking of the Reign of God’s justice on the earth—but it threatens those whose earthly priorities are more important to them than what this humble King, riding in on a donkey, stood for. 

I rarely preach a sermon that has political overtones to it—but Palm Sunday is the single most political of Jesus’ actions and so we must look at it in context—both His and ours.  Daniel Clendening tells us that “On Palm Sunday Jesus invites us to join his subversive counter-procession into all the world. But he calls us not to just any subversion, subversion for its own sake, or to some new and improved political agenda. Rather, Christian subversion takes as its model Jesus himself, ‘who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made Himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a human being, He humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross.’”  Clendening concludes this about this call to subversion:  “Dying to self and the many demons of egoism, and living to serve others, will prove itself as sufficiently and radically subversive.”

                The symbolism of the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem is clear—the people are hailing Him as King—He remains humble—choosing for himself not some royal Arabian stallion like a Roman military ruler, but a donkey on which to ride—but it was a political entry nonetheless.  And what did this political Jesus do immediately after entering Jerusalem to the joyous shouts of His disciples?  Luke tells us that Jesus looked over Jerusalem and wept because of all the terrible things that were going to happen to the people.  Afterwards, he went to the temple and drove the moneychangers from the temple.  Then for several days he preaches and teaches in the temple.  Towards the end of the week, Jesus sends Peter and John to prepare the Passover meal.  And we experience, Jesus’ final meal with his disciples.  Jesus continues to tell them of things to come, but, once again, lost in the trivialities of their own lives, they are more focused on an argument concerning who among them was to be considered the greatest.  At the end of that meal, Jesus takes them with Him to the Mt. of Olives where Jesus prays.

                So what are we to make of Palm Sunday on this balmy (sunny, rainy) Sunday afternoon where we sit, interestingly in the shadow of a large palm, in the newness of our still brand new community.   Rev. Craig Barnes—Pastor of the National Pres. Church in Washington, D.C. calls us to relive the details of this day and this next week even though we have done so before.   He challenges us to look at them with new eyes.  He says:  “When Jesus sat upon that young colt and began to ride into Jerusalem, some of the people around him were wise enough to recognize the moment of their salvation. They cut branches down and spread them on the ground in front of him. Many spread their cloaks on the ground. They began to shout, ‘Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heaven!’  The singing of psalms was a liturgical act repeated at every Passover and feast day. Every time the people worshiped, they worked through those psalms. Year after year, week after week, day after day they paid attention to the details of looking for a savior. And when the Savior came, some were ready.  We know the details of Palm Sunday, the Last Supper, Good Friday and Easter. We’ve gone through them year after year. Why do this again?... It’s the only way we can take our eyes off the things that do not matter and set them upon the arrival of the Savior.”

                And so today, we look at what this humble King brings to us, here at Open Circle.  We are building a community, not a building, but a church, nevertheless.  What are the stones that would cry out if we were told to hush?—those stones would be our very lives, our very witness to the saving grace of God.  Why do we gather here, in this place, and not someplace else?  We gather here because we believe that we have a message to share with each other and those around us—the message of God’s radical acceptance of each one of us exactly the way God made us.  If the stones are to continue to cry out once the crowd has gone away, our voices are the voices that God needs to use.  And our lives are our voices. 

And we , just as the very stones under Jesus’ feet, cannot be quiet.  As long as there are people who do not know the radical acceptance of God, and the love and salvation brought to this world through this same Jesus we hail as King today, we must not be quiet—our community is waiting to hear the message.  I believe that God has set us here for a purpose—not just me—everyone of us who walks through this door and experiences what God has to offer through the voices of everyone here.

Our lives are the stones—our brokenness the palms—our hearts the pathway to Jerusalem—Jesus wept upon seeing Jerusalem—we weep at injustice and pain, both ours and others’— this is our first Palm Sunday in our new community, and next week will be our first Easter.  I pray that we do not lose sight of the perfect wonderfulness of this blessed time—that we will see with eyes made sharp in the freshness of new life, and that we will hear with ears attuned to the needs of others.  I pray that we will persevere, even when told to hush by others in our world whose priorities are different from ours.  Today we will celebrate communion as family—for the last time before Easter—but we do so in the knowledge that Easter will come again, that salvation is promised for all—the salvation that includes resting in the grace of the knowledge that God loves us and cares for us and shares our priorities because our priorities are in alignment with the in-breaking of God's radical reign of justice and peace. 

We go forth into Jerusalem, to the last supper, to Good Friday, knowing that struggle will be turned to celebration, that pain will be redeemed by love, and that faithfulness will be rewarded with new blessings beyond what we can even imagine.  Blessed are we when we come in the name of the Lord!  Hosanna! Hosanna!  Blessed be the Lord!  Hosanna!  Amen!

"God Is in on It!" Sermon Preached at Open Circle--3-21-10

     It was during the Passover festival, just after Jesus drove all the moneychangers and merchants out of the Temple, that we see this Pharisee, named Nicodemus, come to Jesus at night. Many scholars believe that Nicodemus came to Jesus at night because he was afraid to be seen with Jesus. John doesn’t really tell us this, and indicates that Nicodemus was a ‘leader of the Jews’ which would probably give him the social and political standing to do just about whatever he pleased. I love the Gospel of John, because unlike the other gospel writers who make every attempt to lay out “just the facts”, John sees his role as an interpreter not only of events but also of the various subtleties of language and speech. And so, it may be that John tells us that Nicodemus comes at night as a way to illustrate just how “in the dark” he was about who and what Jesus truly was.
     Strangely enough, it first appears that Nicodemus does understand. He says, "Rabbi, we all know you're a teacher straight from God. No one could do all the God-pointing, God-revealing acts you do if God weren't in on it." And then comes Jesus’ response which throws Nicodemus into a quandary of his own making. Jesus said, "You're absolutely right. Take it from me: Unless a person is born from above, it's not possible to see what I'm pointing to—to God's kingdom."
     Here, the older translations may make a little more sense. Jesus says that we must be born again to understand the Kingdom of God. Nicodemus, all understanding gone, asks Jesus, "How can anyone," said Nicodemus, "be born who has already been born and grown up? You can't re-enter your mother's womb and be born again. What are you saying with this [born again]/'born-from-above' talk?"
     Before we judge Nicodemus too harshly, and it is easy to do, we must put ourselves in his shoes. Nicodemus is a learned Jewish scholar, he should have the mental and spiritual where-with-all to understand what Jesus is saying. But, he doesn’t. His understanding is on one plane and Jesus is speaking on another. Jesus is speaking of another world and Nicodemus is standing and speaking firmly in this one. Because they are not speaking the same language they do not communicate. It does not “compute” for poor Nicodemus. Jesus is speaking the language of the spirit. Nicodemus is speaking the language of human understanding. And this is not the first time we have heard the response of “How can it be?” Mary, the mother of Jesus, asks ‘how?’. And we remember Sara when told she would bear a child asks ‘how’. And here is where we can identify with Nicodemus—it is hard for those of us who live daily lives which require our constant attention to see beyond the physical aspects of life that loom before our eyes.
     We are a people who want to understand things—the how, the why. Jesus says to Nicodemus, “you just don’t get it, even though you are a learned scholar”. We, for the most part, don’t like ambiguities. And yet, Jesus’ answer is full of innuendo, He speaks a language that one must have experienced, not just heard. Perhaps Jesus’ words cannot truly be understood, they must be lived. Jesus acknowledges that one must be ‘born from above’ to understand the kingdom of God.
     Hear what Retired Bishop Nedi Rivera, from the Episcopal Diocese of Olympia, Washington says about the struggle of Nicodemus to understand the words of Jesus: “There is nothing in our culture (nor was there in that of Nicodemus) driven by money, success, strength, power and knowledge that can help us understand this kind of love. It is only through the Grace of God that we can see what God is doing. It is that same Grace of God that helps us understand the depth and height and breadth of that love: for the sake of the whole world. A love that gives itself to whomever would receive it. We seem to prefer love that is doled out to the deserving and those whom we deem worthy, but Jesus is clear, it is for the whole world, and it isn't for judgment but for life and salvation. We come to know this as we participate in his death: as we die to our old limits of love, to our opinions about God's favorites, to the limits we put on God's love for ourselves. As we die to those limits we are born from above and find it possible to love as God loves us. We come to know that believing in Christ is living this same self-giving love. Believing, we learn, isn't about mental assent, but about living New Life.”
     And so we return to grapple with living in the world as Jesus lived. God is in on it! When we love as Jesus loved—for the whole world—God is in on it! When we give beyond what we think we can give—God is in on it! When we trust God to take us places we have not yet been in our walk in faith—God is in on it! Nicodemus, for all of his slowness of understanding knew when it felt right and declared—God is in on it! Our experience of God’s spirit is dependent on our willingness to become new—to be reborn.
     Richard Lischer, professor of homiletics at Duke Divinity School refers to Nicodemus as one of the “most reluctant ‘new-borns’ on record. If one is to take the words of Jesus seriously, one realizes that following Jesus does not simply change one, it requires that one become completely brand new. We share Nicodemus’ hesitancy to give up all that is known to us. And Jesus is firm in His response to Nicodemus’ reluctance to embrace re-birth. Jesus tells us and Nicodemus that no one can just slip into the Kingdom of God—you must be born of water (which is more than likely a reference to baptism in Jesus’ name) and the spirit. You must be born from above. There is no power, no how-to book, no earthly teacher, no group or political agenda that replaces being born of the Spirit. And just when we think we are starting to get it, Jesus pushes us farther and says—the spirit is like the wind and blows where it will—there is no controlling the spirit, there is only faith that the spirit is at work in God’s promise.
     Whoa! All this just got a little “heavy” as my generation used to say…but God is in on it!
     God pushes us in Jesus’ words to let go of the reigns of our lives and let the Spirit “blow where it will”. This is to live in the world as Jesus lived. We are one week away from the triumphal entry into Jerusalem. The story is winding down and Jesus has placed himself into the hands and will of God. Next week we will see the crowd turn ugly, we will face squarely the despair of Jesus when God did not remove the “cup of sorrow and pain” from Him. And we will watch as Jesus allows the spirit to control His life right up to His death and resurrection. But, God is in on it! Our need to understand what God is doing (which in many cases, means approving of what God is doing, or agreeing to what God is doing—a little presumptuous, don’t you think?) is challenged by Jesus’ life. And He reveals to Nicodemus all you really have to do to participate in God’s Kingdom. Since God is in on it we let go and trust that God’s spirit will lead us into right relationship in that Kingdom of justice and peace. And so sacred contradictions surface in this walk in faith. Jesus and John, in his telling of the story, call us to at least acknowledge the ambiguities in this faith walk, if not accept them.
     Richard Lischer says it better than I can: He asks, “We do not make the clouds move or the prairie billow like ocean waves. With the rest of creation, we submit to the wind and its caprice. Who is to say whether this chance encounter or that [loss of job], this melody in a cafe or that agonizing defeat, are merely the winds of chance that blow through everyone's life, or the "signs" of the Spirit who caresses us like a mother or a lover? What language shall we borrow with which to narrate our lives? For some it will be the formulas of spiritual certainty; for others, the evocation of mystery…”
     And, in the end, we are grateful for mystery, that spiritual presence that challenges us to move and bend, and allow God to be in on it in every corner of our lives.
     Amen and Amen…

"Arriving at a Quiet Place"--sermon preached March 14th

Scripture:  Matthew 5:1-9 (Click here)

    Heavenly Creator, open our hearts to your presence. Guide us into that glorious silence where your love is revealed to all who come seeking to know you as Jesus knew you. Bless us here today and every time we enter into a place where we recognize and celebrate your presence. Amen.
     Jesus loved quiet. Quiet places appear all over the gospels. And even though, the throngs often disturb Jesus in his solitude, he continues to seek it on a regular basis.
     It is interesting, however, that those who live a contemplative life both present and past often get a bad rap as if by allowing oneself the time and space to seek inwardly makes one ‘out of touch’ if not downright lazy. We are a ‘doing’ people. We go, go, go, usually until we collapse. Is it any wonder that few of us spend any real time in meditation, or contemplation about the love and nature of God? And, even more surprisingly, we wonder why we feel so empty—why we run out of fuel, both physically and spiritually.
     John Main was a Benedictine Monk who began a series of meditation groups which eventually became the World Community for Christian Meditation. Although now deceased, his works are still being published by his followers. In his most recently published work, Monastery without Walls, he writes, “In the Christian vision we are led to the source of our being by a guide. Our guide is Jesus, the fully realized one wholly open to God. … as we approach the center of our being, we find that we are greeted by our guide, the one who has always led us. We are welcomed by a person who calls us into a personal fullness of being. The fruits of meditation are fullness of life, the energy of harmony and oneness. It is divine energy that we find in our own heart as the energy that is love.” And so St. Patrick prayed even in the 5th century:
     Christ be within me, Christ behind me, Christ before me, Christ beside me, Christ to win me, Christ to comfort and restore me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ in quiet, Christ in danger, Christ in hearts of all that love me, Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.
     This is not a sermon on how to meditate. There are thousands of books and hundreds of websites that can do that. We may decide at a later date to have a meditation group—that would be a grand journey, but, for now, I just want us to spend a very few minutes looking at the call of God to come into this place of quiet even as Jesus did when he walked among us. We cannot help but note that the scriptures do not record what Jesus did when he meditated and communed with God and that’s one of many reasons why it is difficult to prescribe a particular way to meditate. What matters is that he did. And so, this is the third spiritual discipline with which we will spend some time this Lenten season.
     Let me begin by telling you what I think meditation is not: Meditation is not our prayers of supplication, though our walk with God requires us to pray and praise. Meditation is not journaling or reflection upon spiritual truths, though our walk through life is greatly enhanced by our giving ourselves over to authentic self-examination. Meditation, then is that quiet that Jesus sought on a regular basis. The call to silence brings with it the understanding that if we are quiet, God will speak. The psalmist tells us in Psalm 46:10: Be still . . . and know that I am God. It is as if God is holding us, like we would hold a crying child, whispering while we rock, “Shhhh!, you’re ok”. And eventually, the crying subsides, the child relaxes into the warmth and strength of our arms, and they are indeed ok. When life overwhelms us and we become, at least internally if not externally, like that small child seeking comfort, God is there, rocking us and saying, “Be still, let it come to you that I am God, and I will care for you.” And when we are not overwhelmed by life, God is there still waiting for us to come into that place of quiet where all we need to know is that God is. The Christian Meditation Ireland group says: “Meditation is a way of pure prayer marked by silence, stillness and simplicity.” Why is it so hard for us to be silent? If I were to call us to a period of silence right now, few of us would be able to make it more than a few minutes without becoming quite uncomfortable. And yet, in the midst of that quiet, were we able to tolerate it long enough, we might very well experience the inbreaking of God’s spirit in this place. And yet, we struggle.
     Returning to John Main’s thoughts: “The way of meditation is very simple. All each of us has to do is to be as still as possible in body and in spirit. . . .Learning to meditate is learning to let go of your thoughts, ideas and imagination and to rest in the depths of your own being….Why is this so powerful?” He responds, “Basically, because it gives us the space that our spirit needs to breathe. It gives each of us the space to be ourselves. When you are meditating you don’t need to apologize for yourself and you don’t need to justify yourself. All you need to do is to be yourself, to accept from the hands of God the gift of your own being. And in that acceptance of yourself and your creation, you come into harmony with the Creator...”
     You may wonder how all of this fits with today’s scripture...the Beatitudes…when looking for the passage that I wanted us to hear to prepare our hearts for this sermon, the “blessed be’s…” immediately came to mind. And a new translation invites us to listen with new ears. So, “blessed are the…” becomes “you are blessed when…” The beatitudes pretty much covers all of the conditions of life, both spiritual and physical. "You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope…You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you...You're blessed when you're content with just who you are…you're blessed when you've worked up a good appetite for God…you're blessed when you care…you're blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right…you're blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight.” Perhaps a place to start in meditation might be right here—I am blessed; let me say it again, I am blessed…
     There may be those of you here today for whom some of this is difficult to hear, or it may just not resonate with what you believe. I thank you for your patience and tolerance. However you experience that power that is beyond you, whether you call it divine, God, nature or “I don’t know what”, I encourage you to give yourself the space to commune alone in quiet. For God speaks to each of us as God speaks. I thank you all for allowing me to explore the spiritual discipline of meditation with you this day. I think speaking and hearing of meditation is a little like learning to play golf or pickleball. It’s all theory until the club or paddle is in your hands, then it becomes real. I invite you to take this silence into your hands and see if it is real for you. Remember this, few of us hit a hole in one the first time we swing a golf club. Some of us may never hit a hole in one. But with practice, we begin to reach the green in fewer and fewer shots.
     There is a prayer written by Laurence Freeman OSB who now leads The World Community for Christian Meditation that they use at their gatherings and I believe fits for us here. We may even want to consider adapting it as part of our mission statement. Please allow me to pray part of this prayer for all of us and we will sit for just a moment to let it be absorbed into our hearts. "May this community be a true spiritual home for the seeker, a friend for the lonely, a guide for the confused… In the silence of this Community may all the suffering, violence, and confusion of the world encounter the Power that will console, renew and uplift the human spirit. May this silence be a power to open the hearts of men and women to the vision of God, …May the beauty of the divine life, fill this community and the hearts of all who pray here, with joyful hope. May all who come here weighed down by the problems of humanity leave giving thanks for the wonder of human life. We make this prayer through Christ our Lord. AMEN."

To Forgive as Jesus Forgave--Sermon preached March 7, 2010

Readings:  Matthew 5:23-24 (Click here), Matthew 18:21-22 (Click here), Luke 17: 3-4 (Click here), Luke 23:34 (Click here)

    I have a confession—I suppose a perfectly good place to begin a sermon on forgiveness. Well, here it is—by Tuesday of this week I was seriously sorry for having listed forgiveness as one of the spiritual disciplines I intended to preach on this Lenten season. I anticipate that a few of you are not so crazy about the topic either. To that end, let us pray…God, open our minds and our hearts to what you have to say to us tonight. Remind us that it is for the forgiveness of the world that You sent Jesus to walk among us and die for us. Even when spiritual learning is hard, we hear Your call to follow you. And it is in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, we pray. Amen.
       Jesus said, before you lay your gift at the altar, go make things right with your friend or brother, or sister in my case. I have a twin sister—for whom I have never been particularly grateful nor has she been grateful for me. Many of you know that our mother died last fall and with her death came the last remaining reason to even pretend to like each other. Things were said, lines have been drawn, and it isn’t pretty. So, my friends, as I lay this sermon on the altar as my offering to God, I had a problem. And so on Wednesday morning, I sent an email. Doesn’t matter that she will neither respond nor think that I am any less crazy than she already believes me to be. I did what I had to do, and, so, now, I can speak to you of forgiveness—not as a person with everything all tied up neatly, but as a real, live, struggling Christian who sometimes has the courage to do the right thing (and sometimes does not).
       As we heard in our readings, Jesus was relentless in His expectation that we will forgive. Forgiving is such a complex topic that it would require a series of sermons itself and, maybe, we will do that before long. Today, however, I want to look specifically at the discipline of forgiving—the constant attention to resolution between us and others. And the constant attention to the spiritual price we pay for refusing to forgive each other and, yes, even ourselves. We sometimes wear our hurts as a garment that shrouds us from the lighter, brighter sides of life. As I contemplated what Jesus said about forgiveness, I also thought about what Jesus DID about forgiveness as spiritual discipline is as much about doing as it is about feeling or thinking.
       Let me ask you a question: Does your inner picture of Jesus after the resurrection include the crown of thorns placed on His head by the soldiers at the time they were crucifying Him? I thought not, so I began to wonder why we get so invested in carrying our hurts with us as constant reminders of our pain and suffering. Let me be clear here: It is important to remember that the resurrected Jesus did carry the scars of the crucifixion on His body. The holes left by the nails in His hands and feet, and the gash in His side, remained after the resurrection. But there is a difference in the healed, or sometimes healing, scars that change our bodies, our hearts, and our psyches forever and the humanly placed ornaments of ridicule, scorn, or deliberate wounding. We know that Thomas, in particular, wanted to see proof that this was his Jesus and Jesus did not hesitate to show Him his scars—but the derision and hatred symbolized by the crown of thorns was redeemed by the resurrection and replaced by victory over all the forces of evil in the world. So how does this relate to forgiveness?
       There are all kinds of sayings about forgiveness. I had a cynical great-uncle who used to say: “To forgive is highly unlikely and to forget is just plain stupid!” For many of us, something akin to that is our heritage regarding forgiveness. There is a book that I have read in pieces over the past five years and the older I become, the more the book speaks to me. Perhaps at some point, we may want to do a book study around the book. It is called “The Second Half of Life”. It is not a specifically Christian book, but it is a profoundly spiritual book. In it, Angeles Arrien, a cultural anthropologist, talks about forgiveness and the necessary role it plays in our graceful and healthful moving through life. She, quite wisely, includes the conversation around forgiveness in her discussion of relationships. For is this not the context of all our need for forgiveness—in our relationships with others, with ourselves, and with God? Her book focuses on the beauty of aging with health and grace, and invites us to look at three aspects of forgiveness and I invite you to do the same:
• “Forgiving ourselves for participating in self-deception or abandoning ourselves to win acceptance and approval.
• Requesting forgiveness from those we have hurt, which requires us to do reparation work and make a commitment not to repeat the mistake.
• Forgiving those who have hurt us, and demonstrating to them our willingness to let go of past hurts, resentments, disappointments, and betrayal”
       Whew!!! I think I’ll sit down now…fortunately, we know that we have guidance and intervention from the One who taught us how to pray, how to forgive, and how to live. Let us look one at a time at these three categories from the perspective of Jesus’ teachings and practices on forgiveness.
       I believe that Jesus’ principles of forgiveness can be summed up quite simply: always, always, always forgive. The number 7, when used in scripture, is usually equated with infinity— so don’t bother to do the math—always, always, always forgive. Jesus says that we must make right with our neighbor before we can love or worship God. And when Jesus speaks about our neighbor, He always does so in the context of the second commandment—“you shall love your neighbor as yourself”. Therefore, Jesus calls us to be right with ourselves as well as with our neighbor. And, so, my friends, when Jesus says we must always, always, always forgive our neighbor, He means that we must always, always, always forgive ourselves as well.
       Returning then, to three avenues of forgiveness: In the first place, I suspect that there are few among us or few in our community or ‘family’ at large that have not engaged in self-deception or abandoned our true selves in order to gain acceptance and approval. You may be in a situation even now where that is happening. Authenticity, prized by many, but experienced by far fewer, is particularly difficult for those of us for whom complete authenticity can come with a terrible price. Nevertheless, the choice to be less than authentic or self-revealing also comes with a price. I believe that Jesus would have us practice His principle of unending forgiveness towards ourselves when we find ourselves in such a place. Nevertheless, we owe it to ourselves to look for ways to embrace our authenticity and to change our circumstances to enable us to find ourselves in places where we can be who we really are. Many of us are here tonight because this MCC church or another MCC church first allowed us to be our whole selves in the family of God. Praise God, indeed!
       Secondly, we need to honestly ask forgiveness from those we have hurt. We all know how to do this and it’s hard. For me, the telltale sign that I need to ask for forgiveness is when I begin to justify what I did and attempt to convince myself that I had “the right” to say what I said, or do what I did. That’s the clue, and Jesus calls me to make it right so that I can worship God aright and be in right relationship with my neighbor and the world.
       Finally, we have a need to forgive those who have hurt us—and truly we will spend some more time in conversation about this. Jesus told us that God would forgive us in the same measure that we forgive others. There are times in my life when that is just plain scarey…more importantly, at those same times when I hold on to my hurts with every ounce of strength that I have, I am out of sync with the person God called me to be. Imagine the resurrected Jesus walking around holding the crown of thorns tightly down on His head rather than allowing it to fly off in the breeze of God’s redeeming act of resurrection.
      We are not finished on this topic—that ‘s the good thing about coming back together. Let’s make a pact to face squarely Jesus’ call to forgive…and start tonight bringing our thoughts to the need for forgiveness in our lives. If I pray for you and you pray for me, we will have begun a wonderful work in our hearts. Amen and Amen.

To Pray as Jesus Prayed--February 28, 2010

Luke 11:1-13   Click here to read passage.

First, we pray: May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to You, O God. Amen.


       Prayer is both the hardest and simplest thing we do in our faith walks. Most of us know the cry of deep pain, the prayers that come after we utter “this can’t be happening!” and we realize that it is. These prayers often sound like “Why, God, why?” We also know the glory of prayer that springs, unbidden, from our very souls at the sight of the majesty of nature. These prayers usually sound like “My God, this is beautiful!” and we often don’t even realize that we are praying. Then there are the prayers that simply say “thank you!” when some miracle is received or a gift of grace is bestowed on us, most of the times without our even asking. This is all prayer, all valid, all wonderful, all life-giving and life-receiving forms of prayer.
       Today, I want to take an in depth look at prayer, beginning with Jesus’ teaching on prayer and ending with what I will refer to as the 4 C’s of prayer: communication, communion, commitment, and celebration. If we look at prayer from those four perspectives, I believe that we will leave here with a better grasp on the role of prayer in our faith walk.
       We know that Jesus had a habit of praying alone, particularly at significant times in His ministry. Luke is careful to record at least 7 times when Jesus is praying alone or in an isolated place. Last week, we looked at the temptations of Jesus which happened when Jesus was in the desert alone praying. The week before that, we experienced the transfiguration of Jesus which occurs when Jesus goes up the mountain to pray. We also know that the disciples had a hard time with praying, sometimes falling asleep, sometimes just not getting the point. In our scripture today, Jesus is praying in a “certain place”, we don’t know where. Then the disciples ask Jesus to teach them how to pray. What follows is well known to most of us, even when we reconfigure the language to expand our image of God. I will return to this prayer often as I look at the 4 C’s of prayer.
       First, communication: Notice that Jesus tells us to “ask, and it will be given”. Prayer is the most effective form of communication we have with God. Nevertheless, we sometimes need reminding that any true conversation has two sides to the dialogue—speaking and listening. There’s an old joke from Flip Wilson, you remember him? So Flip Wilson says: “I’m gonna’ pray now, anybody want anything?” We laugh, but sometimes our prayers come pretty close to a shopping list for God to deliver. Marjorie Thompson, in Soul Feast, tells us that listening comes first, speaking second. Wow, that’s the part I’m not so good at. Thompson suggests that we can start to listen to God in scripture. She also calls us to listen to God in creation. Indeed, Psalm 19 says: “The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims God’s handiwork…There is no speech, nor are there words;…yet their voice goes out through all the earth…” Thirdly, she notes that we often hear God’s voice through the voice of another or through the circumstances of our lives. When we trust, God opens some doors and closes others. Finally, she suggests that sometimes we just ‘know’ that God is speaking and the more we are attune to God’s Spirit in prayer and meditation—the more we will recognize God’s voice. Hallowed be Thy Name—and voice.
       The second aspect of communication is speaking. Ah, something I’m good at and I imagine that most of you feel more comfortable there, too. Jesus’ prayer, the Lord’s prayer, is spoken aloud for daily bread, for forgiveness, for protection. The challenge here, according to Thompson, is learning not to censor what we are saying to God. How many of us were taught basically to be polite to God, to keep our anger, doubts, and fears to ourselves. As silly as it seems, almost like the 2-year-old who covers her own face and says, “you can’t see me”, we convince ourselves that God only knows what we reveal. Real, authentic conversation includes all of our hearts and thoughts. The more we willingly reveal of ourselves to God the more authentic our conversation becomes. We must not forget that intercessory prayer is a part of the speaking end of communication and we are called to lift others’ needs up before God. We give of our time and energy in intercessory prayer, and we have miracles to report as a result of it. God rewards both the people we pray for and ourselves when we bring the needs of others to our practice of prayer.
       The second C of prayer is communion: no words at all needed here. Jesus, says, “search, and you will find…” We enter into a time of quiet, of peace. Brother Lawrence , a Carmelite brother, in the 1600’s is credited with the work, The Practice of the Presence of God. For those of us who are life’s busybodies, communion with God is hard. Brother Lawrence who spoke of the constant presence of God in our lives, reports: “My commonest attitude is this simple attentiveness, an habitual, loving turning of my eyes to God.” Brother Lawrence believed and taught that God is present in the tiniest of details of our lives and that we experience the presence of God in our daily walk in this world.
       I return to Marjorie Thompson for a contemporary definition of communion or contemplative prayer in God’s presence: “Contemplative prayer has the quality of an inner Sabbath. In a world driven by the need to accomplish and acquire, God calls us to the radical trust of rest…Words fall away, and the most palpable reality is being present to the lover of our souls. When we let go of all effort to speak or even to listen, simply becoming quiet before God, the Spirit is free to work its healing mysteries in us.” And so, I am reminded, of the times in my life when it is enough to just sit in God’s presence and be made whole. For those of us who grieve, for those of us who struggle with life’s decisions; for those of us who yearn for more meaning in our lives, practicing the presence of God in our prayer life may bring us joy unspeakable.
       The third C of prayer is commitment. It is in prayer that I make my commitment to God, to serve, to follow, and to be faithful. This kind of prayer sometimes has feet—when I am required to step up and do what God has called me to do which I have discerned in conversation and communion. We step up to the door and we knock, willing to step through the door God has called us to. Jesus says, knock and the door will be open. But, what about those times, when distractions are louder than intent and we find ourselves unable to focus on our heart’s desire to pray. Jesuit priest and theologian, Robert Faricy looks at our problem and acknowledges that it is his as well. He says, “I can be praying and find my mind on another matter,…on someone who has hurt me, on a problem coming up. This kind of distraction indicates what is not integrated into my personal relationship with Jesus Christ….I can put the matter into His hands, turning the distraction into a prayer.”
       The final C of prayer is celebration. We see this in Matthew’s version of the prayer of Jesus: “For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever, Amen! To celebrate God’s glory with God closes Jesus’ ‘model’ prayer and leads us to that place where we worship God.
       Lest you think that I am suggesting that all of this comes together seamlessly with little to no effort, let me clarify—I believe that the prayer life that we develop now is not only God’s will and desire for us, but will also serve us well as we face the inevitable hardship and trials of life. Therefore, it is worth the effort that we put into it today. And along the way, I take advantage of as many spiritual resources as I can find, In particular, I find that I take great comfort in the prayers of the authentic spiritual leaders of this world—the ones who make real their faith journeys, thus enabling me to learn from their path. Thomas Merton, 20th century Trappist monk who wrote over 70 books, penned this prayer during a particularly hard time in his life:
       O Lord God, I have no idea where I am going, I do not see the road ahead of me, I cannot know for certain where it will end.  Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following Your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please You does in fact please You. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire to please You. And I know that if I do this, You will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it.  Therefore I will trust You always; though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for You are ever with me, and You will never leave me to make my journey alone.
       Like Jesus, we enter into prayer as a way to connect with God. We come as seekers, as those looking to deepen our walk with God. Thomas Merton said one more thing that speaks to me about prayer: “If you want a life of prayer, the way to get it is by praying…You start where you are and you deepen what you already have.”
       Let us start where we are, deepen what we already have, and celebrate God’s presence in our lives. Amen and amen.