PRAYER (AGAIN)

 In her book An Altar in the World Barbara Brown Taylor has a chapter on prayer she titles “The Practice of Being Present to God.” She begins her essay by stating that she dreads writing about it and that she is also a failure at it. Reading that was a great consolation for me because I often feel the same way. Clergy, after all, are supposed to be experts on prayer just as we are also expected to be great practitioners of it.

Supposed expert practitioner notwithstanding, prayer often eludes me and even leaves me high and dry. I have more questions about prayer than answers and the answers I have are hardly ever satisfying enough to allow me to be at peace. More often than not when I pray, words are spoken but it also seems as if I am only going through the motions of praying than really praying. But I dare not not pray.

Why not? If prayer seems so empty so often, why bother? Even more, since I know God hears my prayers and since I know God knows my thoughts and wants and needs before I ever open my mouth, why bother? Why bother God and just save my breath? After all, when I pray that God’s will be done, I am actually praying, if I am honest enough to admit it, that my will becomes God’s will.

God will or will not answer my prayers or most certainly God will answer them as God deems best for me and not as I deem best for myself. Because I know all that, understand all that, accept all that, all that is why I have a difficult time with prayer. All that is a reminder, as Taylor’s chapter title attests, why I/we pray: prayer is that practice of being present to God, realizing we are in God’s presence whenever we pray.

In the end it does not matter if we ever get the words right or feel at peace with our prayer. Whenever we pray, we learn more about ourselves than we learn about God, providing, of course, that we take some time to reflect on our prayer life in general and not on any prayer or prayer practice in particular. The greatest of saints had off-days when it came to prayer but they never ceased praying even when they felt nothing and their words seemed quite empty.

They continued praying because they knew those words kept them close to their God. It was a reminder that they needed God more than God needed them even though they also knew that God needed them as much as they needed God. They were – and each and every one of us is – created by God for a very specific purpose. We will only fully understand that purpose when we arrive in eternity.

In the meantime we continue to pray in words, in silence, in gestures, in simply trying to be present to ourselves so that we can come into closer presence with our God. As Taylor suggests, what we are doing is practicing being present with our God, knowing we will never get it perfectly right because that only comes when we arrive into the fullness of that presence in eternity. If there is any consolation in all this, it is, at least for me, that I should not care how I pray or when I pray or where I pray or how I feel afterwards and that God does not care either. All that matters is that I pray.

 

SKIP SUNDAY AT OUR OWN PERIL

One of the main excuses for skipping church on Sunday is that we claim we don’t get anything out of it. We don’t like the music. The Sunday School is too small. There are too many old people and not enough young ones. The list is endless or at least long enough for us to justify why we would rather either stay home in bed or be somewhere else Sunday morning other than at church.

The fact, the truth, is that when we skip church on Sunday, we do so at our own peril, whether we realize it or not. We don’t come to church on Sunday primarily because of what we can get out of being there even though we get more out of it than we realize and often more than we put into it. We come to give something of ourselves. We come primarily to worship God. No matter what hymns we sing, no matter how mundane the sermon, no matter how we feel, God is pleased and God is worshiped and that, in the grand scheme of things, is all that matters.

We come to church to tune into God. It’s not that we cannot do so somewhere else and perhaps do so much better somewhere else. We are supposed to be able to find God, see God, worship God anywhere we happen to be because everywhere and everyone and everything is God’s creation, is of God and should speak to us of God. Yes, there are often better places, more worshipful places to be on any Sunday morning than in the church building that is our parish home.

All that being undeniable, the fact is that we also come to church to tune into one another. Church is where we not only worship God but where we come to take care of one another. As others care for us, so we care for them, however that care happens to take place: a kind word, a smile, or simple just checking in. We take so much of this for granted, I think, that we often miss just how important it is that we do all of this, that we indeed need all of this.

The world is full of lonely people, people seeking someone, some ones, to care for them, to listen to them, to be there for them. They are looking for what we have but so often either overlook or assume that everyone has what we have. They don’t. Having a community that cares about us, truly cares about us, about our needs and our wants and is willing to help us fulfill them, all that is a blessing of inestimable value. That is why it is so important that we gather together regularly.

None of this is to denigrate the importance of worship and our being present to worship both individually and as a community of faith. It is to say, however, that community is the key word. God created us to be in community. Almost the first words out of God’s mouth in the Genesis story of creation is that God deemed it not good for wo/man to be alone. In order to be the person God created us to be, we need one another.

Whenever we become lax in our participation in our faith community, whenever we begin to take it for granted, whenever we make excuses why being somewhere else or doing something else is more fulfilling, we do so at our own peril and loss.

THE WORD AND WORDS

We communicate mostly in words. Yes, we get in touch with one another by a touch or a glance or a nod. We are able to communicate in non-verbal ways and sometimes words are simply inadequate to convey what is in our heart and mind. And when we attempt to put into words that cannot ever express what we mean, we can be heading for a heap of trouble. We know from experience whenever we try to tell the person we love how much we love that person, our words always come up short.

The same hold true about the words we use when we talk about the Word, Jesus, the Word of God. The Gospel and Epistle writers, theologians from Irenaeus to Augustine to Aquinas to Luther to Barth and Rahner have written volumes about the Word, about Jesus. They have come close in trying to explain him but, in the end, their words all fail.

Even worse, perhaps they as theologians and we as readers of their writings have become so seduced by the written word, by the depth of their thoughts and the soaring vocabulary they employ that we miss the Word from all the words. The person of Jesus, who he is and what he means for us as believers, is lost because the words themselves have become and are so impersonal.

The words we use to speak about Jesus may bring us close to understanding the Word but, in reality, we have it all backwards. Eugene Petersen in his Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places (p. 103), says “Jesus is the dictionary in which we look up the meaning of words.” We don’t need a dictionary to explain Jesus as much as we need Jesus to be the dictionary to help us explain and understand what some words truly mean, words like love, forgiveness, compassion, service and many others.

Any dictionary can help explain these words; but for us as Christians, Jesus’ living explanation is all we need and what we need. If we want to know what it means to love another person, we do not need to read Rahner or Bultmann, we need to read the Gospels and read how Jesus loved. If we want to know what it means to forgive, we do not need to look up that word in a theological dictionary; we need to read the Gospels.

The same is true for any word that we might use to describe and explain what it means to be a follower of the Word. Jesus was and is that living dictionary that nails the meaning of that word for us. Jesus’ definition is always quite simple even if living out the meaning Jesus’ life conveys is not all that easy. In fact, sometimes we would rather have a neat theological definition of love, for instance, than Jesus’ living definition.

None of this is to denigrate the works of all the great theologians who, over the years, have tried to help us understand the Word of God in words that express the truth. It is only a reminder that we can get so lost in words that the deeds that are to be the fulfillment of those words never get done or not get done as well as they could. It’s like engaging in a bible study that helps us understand exactly what is expected of us and then having cake and coffee afterwards and doing nothing about it. Jesus is the word that is the way, our way, the only way.

PRAYER IS PAINFUL

Most of us would have to confess that our spiritual life is not what we want it to be nor what we know it should be. We wish we had more time to give to prayer and spiritual reading. The Bible may even have a prominent place in our homes but it barely gets opened or certainly not opened and read enough. Our self-discipline, as far as our spiritual life is concerned, leaves much to be desired.

But we do not give up. Every once in a while we make a concerted effort to spend as much time on the spiritual part of our lives as we do the physical in an effort to lead a balanced life. A spiritual life, spirituality, begins with prayer, setting aside certain times during the day when we actually do pray, whether from a book of prayer or use words we have memorized over the years or simply utter words that come from the heart.

Herein is the problem. Sister Joan Chittister, in her In a High Spiritual Season, writes this: “Spirituality without a prayer life is no spirituality at all, and it will not last beyond the first defeats. Prayer is an opening of the self so that the Word of God can break in and make us new. Prayer unmasks. Prayer converts. Prayer impels. Prayer sustains us on the way. Pray for the grace it will take to continue what you would like to quit.”

Isn’t that the truth? We pray because we find something missing in our lives; we find a staleness there, a same-old same-old that craves for something new or at least something refreshing. But when we pray, really pray, when we are in tuned to the words we utter, we find ourselves dealing with the nitty-gritty, with so much of what we don’t like about ourselves and our lives and the reason we felt moved to pray in the first place.

As Sister Joan says, prayer unmasks. It forces us to see the real person and not the person we pretend to be or others think us to be. We’re not that bad but have too many faults that cannot be overlooked and certainly not excused. Prayer forces us to speak the truth about ourselves. If and when we listen to that truth and take in seriously, we begin a conversion process. In fact, the more serious we become about our prayer life, the more we are impelled to making those changes in our lives our prayer recognizes need to be made.

Once we head down that road, once we begin that journey, it is prayer that “sustains us on the way.” Yet, as we know from experience, that road so often quickly comes to an end. Our prayer exposes too much of us, demands too much of us, wants to make changes we are not ready or even willing to make, and so we stop praying.

Prayer is painful because it demands that we take our spiritual lives seriously. When we do, that will demand that we make changes in the rest of our lives, changes that will discomfit us and perhaps even make the lives of those we love uncomfortable.

Jesus is our example. His deep-seated prayer life governed what he said and did. That made everyone else uncomfortable because they saw in him the life they were to live. It took God’s grace for Jesus always to be a person of prayer and never quit even when the going got rough. It takes that same grace for us as well. Pray for that grace.

SEARCHING FOR THE LOST GARDEN OF EDEN

Ever since Adam and Eve got thrown out of the Garden of Eden because of their disobedience, humanity has been trying to get back in, searching, if you will, for the lost Garden of Eden. The belief is that were we able find that place, all would be well. It would, once again, be heaven on earth. That is assuming that the first Garden was actually that place of bliss and enjoyment.

We don’t know. We may only think, or wish, it to be so. The story of the Garden of Eden, of course, is only a parable that reminds us over and over again, each time we read or hear it, that all of creation is good including, and most importantly, the highlight of creation, namely we human beings. The fact that humanity, from the very beginning, has not taken care of creation, has used an abused it, does not lessen the command to respect and love all of it and everyone and everything in it.

Even more, it does not mean that the Garden of Eden no longer exists or that we have to go looking for it or recreating it somewhere here on earth. The Garden is still here. It is everywhere we look. It is all around us. It is this earth and not a specific and special place on this earth even though whenever we think about the Garden of Eden we may have visions of some place that looks like Hawaii.

All of creation is good. There is nothing bad. We are to love creation in no less a way than we are to love our God and love our neighbor: with all our heart and mind and strength. We are to love it and to love them not because in doing so there is some reward in it for us, but simply because as part of creation, we are to love ourselves in no less a way than we love anything and everything else. Or as Wendell Barry once observed, “It is not allowable to love the Creation according to the purposes one has for it, any more than it is allowable to love one’s neighbor in order to borrow his tools.”

But we don’t and that is why this world, this created order, is in such a mess. That is why we dream of and desire a place like the Garden of Eden. Like Adam and Eve in the biblical story, so often we use and abuse creation for our own selfish purposes and not for the purposes for which they were intended by God. God’s command not to eat the fruit of a certain tree was not to  rules and regulations or to see if Adam and Eve would be obedient. It was simply a reminder that God had another purpose in mind for that tree and that purpose had nothing to do with them. So leave it alone.

As the story goes, they could not. Neither, it seems, can we. Even though there are moments and places where we think we have found the lost Garden of Eden, times and places where it seems that we are experiencing heaven on earth, where we feel totally loved and love totally in return, those times and those places seem too few and too far between and away.

They are not. They are everywhere. There is no need to go searching for the Lost Garden of Eden. It was never lost and finding it does not demand a search. It only demands that we open our eyes and love and respect everything and everyone we see.

SINNERS AND THE SELF-RIGHTEOUS

The sign says very simply that “The Episcopal Church Welcomes You.” There is no asterisk anywhere on the sign or words in smaller print listing exceptions to the welcome. Everyone is welcome, sinners included, which would be redundant because we are all sinners, every last one of us.

Granted some of us may be more sinful than others, and probably are, but it is only a matter of degree. And when it comes to degree as far as sins are concerned, difference in degree really makes no difference. A sin is a sin is a sin, to sort of paraphrase Gertrude Stein. Stealing a dime or stealing a million dollars is still stealing; both actions are sins. The fact that one sin may be the lesser as far as civil law is concerned is of no concern when the issue at hand is that of morality. Little sinner meet big sinner.

This does not hold, of course, when our self-righteous gene kicks in, and it kicks in regularly. It is so easy to measure our own self-worth or self-loathing if we compare our sins to those of others. When doing so, we can always pick a more notorious sinner than we so that we come off, if not smelling like a rose, at least not as stinky as that other person, horrible sinner that he is.

But the sign says that everyone is welcome, even the notorious sinners among us, even us. Let’s face it, we’re all notorious, all known in God’s eyes. And we are all, in fact, forgiven. The problem the self-righteous have (or we, when that gene is in full bore) is that we won’t forgive those whom we deem to be worse sinners than we deem ourselves to be. We set the standards, the measuring stick and, in the process, proclaim that’s how God sees it as well.

We do well not to play God, however. The old dictum that we should not judge lest we be judged holds true even though we all tend to ignore it on a regular basis. We instinctively make judgments about the actions of others almost immediately upon becoming aware of them. And when we are convinced that that action is beyond the pale, certainly something we would never do, it makes it that much easier for us to justify our sins. When self-righteousness rears its justifying head, look out.

None of this is to make light of sin or to think or act as if it is no big deal. It is. Sin is selfishness and any act of selfishness not only demeans those whom our sins hurt but it also demeans us in the process. Self-righteousness, however, allows us to take our own sinfulness less seriously because we are, at least in our own estimation, not as bad, not as sinful as someone else. Even if we are not, that does not lessen our guilt.

Jesus always seemed to hang out with those whom proper society and the church of his time considered sinners, even notorious sinners. Jesus never condoned their sins nor did he either demean them or deliberately avoid them. And he did not judge them either. What he did do was forgive them just as he forgives us so that they and we can acknowledge our sinfulness, do our best to be less sinful in the future and move on. Unfortunately, the self-righteous sinner can or will not do any of this.

POSSESSIONS CAN SOMETIMES LEAVE US EMPTYHANDED

Sometimes we all have a difficulty with sharing our possessions. We are like the little child who grabs the ball from his younger brother and says, “That’s mine!” and will not, under any circumstances, share it. Even when Mom of Dad tries to explain why he should share his ball with his brother, he resists. He can neither understand why he has to nor will he give in even under parental orders.

Again, such selfishness is not the sole prerogative of children. Adults are just as susceptible to holding on to what they have and being unwilling to share it with anyone, even a sibling or parent, as are children. There has to be some specific possessive gene within each of us that makes us so. Yes, some people are less prone to hoarding possessions than others, but even the greatest of saints is tempted to do so and even gives in on occasion.

When we find ourselves doing such hoarding, what we will also discover, if we stop to think about what we are doing and why, is that we are preventing ourselves from gaining something more and something even more valuable. For when we close our hands, literally and figuratively around something, some possession, we are then unable to open those same hands to receive anything from another, from others.

When we unclasp those hands to let loose of something, they are then opened to receive back from another thanks and love, friendship and support. It is so true that it is only in giving that we receive because it is only in opening our hands that they can reach out and receive something from another. What is received, we soon learn, or if we have learned and are again reminded, is always more valuable than that which we have let go.

Over the years I have saved over 200 lives having donated over twenty-five gallons of blood. I did not hoard my blood but shared it. What I have received in return is the knowledge that I have indeed saved that many lives, but even more, I benefited from giving. My blood and blood pressure got tested every two months. The truth is that even in my generosity I have been somewhat selfish.

The point is that even in totally selfless giving, there is always a modicum of selfishness. Thus, that is why it is also true that there is more pleasure in giving than in receiving because, again, we always get back more than we give, even if what we get back seems at first glance to be so much less. We give gifts because doing so gives us pleasure, makes us feel good in the process and even makes us feel good about ourselves.

The saddest people in the world are not those who have nothing but those who seem to have everything but are unwilling and even unable to share something, even some small piece of their abundance, with anyone. They hold their hands so tightly around their possessions that they literally squeeze the life out of them, the life those possessions could be giving to those in need and, at the same time, squeeze the life out of themselves. It is sad but it happens and it can happen to us. That possessive gene can rear its ugly head and grab us by the neck when we least expect it. Beware!