Finding God on My Journey

This cartoon from the November 25, 2015 issue of The Christian Century is not only an appropriate counterpoint to the unholy alliance of sports and religion in our culture, but also to a presumptuous view of God predicated on making our personal comfort and convenience the highest good and holding God accountable for satisfying us. From internet memes promising God’s blessing for reposting it to blatant prosperity gospel preaching, much of popular Christianity reduces God to our petty gofer, as though that evinced faith. Job’s words are prophetic corrective to such narcissism bordering on idolatry. “Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?” (Job 2:10)

In the six months since finishing my last interim pastorate, I have prayed diligently for another congregation to serve and to discern God’s presence and guidance on my path. Recently someone asked if I had a call yet. To which I responded, “No, and it doesn’t look like that’s on the horizon, so we’re recalculating our path with changing objectives.” The person who asked, chuckled a bit and said, “Usually I hear pious people cast that as God is changing my call. I found your candor refreshing.” I can’t say that I feel particularly refreshed in this process, but having received and thanked God for many wonderful gifts in 40+ years of pastoral ministry, should I now blame God for this uncertain, uncomfortable, confusing season?

Please understand, I do believe God called me not just into pastoral ministry in general but also to specific communities of service. Having said that, I am also very aware of painful seasons on this journey, often direct outcomes of human brokenness, my own and that of those with whom I have served. My understanding of God’s sovereignty is not that God orchestrates daily details to teach me lessons or manipulate my route, but that our human free will is not greater than God’s sovereignty, so that as life’s joys and disasters come in the natural order of things, God’s redemptive purposes will not be frustrated, and if I am spiritually alert, I may be allowed to discern God’s presence even in the dark.

As with much of what I have written, I am not so much seeking to teach or preach to others as to sort out my own thinking, yearning to discern the nudges of the Holy Spirit. So I give thanks for serendipitous provisions of financial means to keep on top of costs of living without implying, for example, that God made certain people die at specific times so I could get an honorarium for conducting their funerals. That would be perverse.

My family and I still have to make important decisions, not just about daily details but also about the direction our journeys are to go in this transition from one stage of life into the next. We must make those decisions by being as alert to possible to the whispers of the Holy Spirit bellowing in our hearts, knowing that God is much more concerned with the kind of person I am and how that influences my decisions that with the specific choices I make. No matter where I am or how I make the money to pay our bills, I need to be growing into “maturity, the measure of the full stature of Christ.” (Ephesians 4:13) I need to beware of “selfish ambition” but look “to the interests of others” letting the Holy Spirit cultivate in me “the same mind that was in Christ Jesus” … emptying myself and taking on the form of a slave. (Philippians 2:3-7)

Brought to Completion

Contemplation
April Lawrence 

I greatly admired how my parents seemed to embrace what life brought next rather than clinging to what they had passed through. As their son I felt their joy as I started and finished high school and college, got married and had children, moved through my career from Christian education editing, writing and research into pastoral ministry. Several time when I spoke with my mother on the phone as she approached her death at 94 she said to me, “I’ve had a full, wonderful life and done everything I wanted to do. The only thing I haven’t experienced is dying and I’m looking forward to finding out what that’s like.”

I was able to embrace intentional interim pastoral ministry as wonderful transition from my full career of pastoral ministry. I was deeply enriched by the four congregations I served as interim pastor. The last one concluded in May, and I had two positive interviews with other congregations who decided to go in a different direction. Though somewhat disappointed, I accepted it with an expectation that something else awaited me if I would be alert for God’s presence. I have been driving funeral cars (hearse/coach and limousine) and conducted a few funerals. This seemed an appropriate way to wait for the next congregation to serve. But now I am discerning that a full-time interim pastorate is not what is next for me. So I am wrestling with God about how to understand and embrace this stage of my journey.

The Epistle reading from the Revised Common Lectionary for next Sunday, the second Sunday of Advent this year, is Philippians 1:3-11. As I have meditated on this through the week, I have been arrested by verse 6. “I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.” In 69+ years of life and 40+ years of pastoral ministry, I could often have prayed along with Thomas Merton, “My 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.” As I have been transitioning out of pastoral ministry, I have looked back at my preaching and teaching and the congregations with whom I have served and recognized how God has formed me with several clear themes. I have felt some satisfaction and been able to also echo the conclusion of Merton’s prayer, My Lord God, “you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”

Right now I am again feeling that I do not see the road ahead of me and listening acutely for the signs God is with me on this leg of my journey. As I review not only how God began good work in me but how God has added to that work over the years, Philippians 1:6 tells me to trust that God will finish it. Only, right now I am not clear about what God is working in me during this transition and the path ahead that seems obscure. As I meditate on this line, I hear myself encouraging others who were stumbling on their journeys and wrestle with how to incorporate this as the Holy Spirit’s nudging. I want to embrace where I am, but I am struggling to perceive and understand where I am.

What does it mean for me to think of myself as funeral man at this time? How do I respond to what I can only describe as grieving that I will not be preaching regularly again, with the intimate connection that has brought me with the text, the Spirit and the people of the congregations I have served. For some time I have imagined myself as a storyteller, a sort of “old man of the mountains.” This emerged clearly in my interim pastorates, but now no one is listening to me tell the holy stories. Yes, I write, but publishing is still elusive. Candy and I feel the ambivalence of our responsibility to support her father in the twilight of his years and to support our son Erik as he launches as a full-fledged adult and musician. I ache to embrace the present stage of my journey, but am having trouble identifying what it is I am to embrace.

As I meditated on Philippians 1:6, I notice that it is plural, not singular. While some translations say, “good work in you,” the NRSV and other translations say more precisely, “good work among you.” Though not a Greek scholar, a little checking does suggest that the “you” is also plural, not singular. So perhaps I should not be asking so much what God is completing in me but what God is completing in us.

As I meditated on this, I thought of Jeremiah 29:11, which is often used to encourage young people when they are uncertain about their futures, typically individually. “I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” But as I look at that whole passage, it is not addressed to individuals but to the community of Judah in exile in Babylon. They were encouraged to “seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” (v. 7) I sense the Spirit telling me not to be so concerned about my individual, personal path, but to seek the completion of God’s goodness for those around me.

First of course, is my wife Candy who is feeling the instability of this time even more than I am. Then for our son Erik that God will take him on the next steps toward the completion of God’s plans for him, though he seems to be searching for the path ahead of him more than I am. And yes, for the rest of our family, for Northway Christian Church with whom we are worshipping and fellowshipping as we take these steps. And yes, for the families and funeral personnel with whom I work almost every day. I am writing and posting this as a concrete way of embracing what is coming now in my life and watching for signs that God is with not just me but us on the journey, even when I have no idea where I am going.

The Lord Makes Wars to Cease to the End of the Earth, Breaks the Bow, Shatters the Spear, Burns the Shields with Fire

The day after French planes bombed Raqqa in retaliation for the terror attack in Paris, my daily prayer journey through the Psalms again encounters me with intense challenges. Today, Psalms 46 and 76 point in directions contrary to popular and political reactions.

Praying to God who is our refuge, strength and very present help in trouble, before appealing to God for anything, I affirm that I, no we, will not fear through the whole earth should change, the mountains shake in the heart of the sea and tremble with the tumult of waters roaring and foaming. The nations are in an uproar and tottering. (Psalm 46:1-3,6) Surely the recent violence perpetrated on Baghdad, Beirut and Paris feels as though any stability and safety anywhere in the world is threatened. And so we are afraid.

The Psalmist diagnoses this fear as a symptom of not taking refuge in God. I certainly do not expect government policy taking refuge in God, nor do I believe that would be possible or healthy. That is for we who are people of faith in communities of faith to do on behalf of not just our own societies but on behalf of all of the world’s people. By our own fearlessness, we witness to responding in love rather than reacting out of fear.

I have frequently observed that the opposite of fear is not courage but love. And the opposite of love is not hate but fear. Heroes do not inject themselves into danger to demonstrate courage but to protect those they love. As 1 John 4:18 says, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” I contend that we almost always make the wrong choice when we react out of fear.

In our world in uproar and tottering, can we – will we – trust the God who makes wars cease to the ends of the earth, break the bow, shatters the spear and burns the shields with fire? Do we know the Lord of Hosts is with us and not presume to take matters into our own hands? (Psalm 46:6,8-9; 76:3) Of course, this is counter-intuitive, counter-cultural and subject to accusations of fatal impracticality even cowardice. That is exactly why it is totally of faith that the God who shall not be moved is in our midst and will help when morning dawns. Political and military strategists cannot embrace such radical faith. Only the community of Jesus’ disciples can witness to this confidence.

I would not presume to advise military or political leaders. I would not even presume to tell my fellow disciples of Jesus what opinions to hold or even how to pray. But I do boldly assert that these Psalms 46 and 76 are appropriate for our prayers in this difficult time. Soak them in and let the Holy Spirit prompt you to pray (Romans 8:26-27). Don’t limit your love to the people of Paris or even of Baghdad and Beirut, but let your prayers pour out love – God’s and your own – for the people of Raqqa, most of whom are hostages of terrorism and not its sympathizers.

Rouse yourself! Why do you sleep, O Lord? O God, why do you cast us off forever?

I have prayed through the Psalms monthly for almost all of my adult life, and I have practiced Benedictine lectio divina for meditating and praying with the Scriptures of the Common Lectionary for nearly as long. Through these many years, I have been impressed and often startled by how directly the Scripture that is encountering me speaks pointedly to current events: global, national, local, familial and personal. Of course, I do not think that somehow God micromanages world affairs to match the schedules of the lectioners or the sequence of the Psalms. Rather, I think Scripture is so well attuned to the human experience that it consistently points us to the hand and heart of God if we will only pay attention as the Holy Spirit illuminates it.

For something over 500 times, on the 14^th of each month, I have prayed through Psalms 14, 44, 74, 104, 134. With the tragic news of last night’s massacre in Paris still reverberating in my head and heart, Psalms 44 and 74 voiced to God my tangled emotions and reactions. I am still contemplating these Psalms that I typically pray through in a somewhat detached way, and I encourage all who are praying for the people of Paris and the other victims of violence around the world to let these Psalms inform, shape and empower your prayers.

Both Psalms cry out to God for explanation and for action. “How can you let this violent cruelty go on? How can you let your people suffer at the hands of your enemies? When are you going to do something, God? When?!” Who of us has not cried out something akin to the lines lifted from these two Psalms for the title of this column?

Of course, these Psalms were composed in the context of ancient Israel’s unique relationship with God, that neither France nor the United States (nor any modern nation for that matter) has any right to claim. While those perpetrating these atrocities are certainly a small portion of the world’s modern Muslim population (and they have been soundly condemned by a broad spectrum of Muslim leaders), the religious rationale for these attacks is inescapable. Paraphrasing from these Psalms, these attacks come from those who are the enemies of the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; the God of the prophets and apostles; the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. I know that Islam traces its roots to Abraham and the Koran speaks respectfully of the prophets and Jesus. I do not take these Psalms in terms of how Christians and Muslims can or should relate to each other in our modern world. My focus is on how these Psalms shape my prayers in response to this unconscionable brutality. As I prayed through these Psalms today, I used the “enemy” lines to be honest with God and myself about my animosity and relinquish it to God.

These Psalms stretch my prayer beyond the current news, beyond the people I know most about and feel most kinship with. Yes, this was a spectacular catastrophe in a part of the world among people who presume they can live without daily fear. However, earlier this week there was a suicide bombing in Beirut killed 40 people. Thousands are fleeing rampant violence in Syria and other areas of the region. Our news gives these scant coverage because violence in so common in those areas, because we don’t understand and identify as easily with the culture and religion of people in such places. As I bring my natural impetus to pray for the people of Paris to these Psalms, the Holy Spirit expands my prayers to encompass people far beyond customary range without reducing my prayers for those who come readily to mind.

These Psalms also inform the substance and content of my prayers. I have often commented that our habitual, routine prayers often sound as though we think God is stupid and needs us to tell Him what needs attention and what do to about it. I contend that more mature prayer is about tuning into God’s perspective and power. I understand these Psalms to assure us that God does hear our prayers of desperation and is not offended by our honesty. Our complaints to God lead us to be paying attention to God and to recognize God at work in unexpected ways. This is not a simplistic solving of our problems but a much deeper release of ourselves and our concerns to God.

Do Not Be Alarmed!

Stones at the base of the "Wailing Wall" at the site of the former Jerusalem Temple

Without doubt the political season amplifies the alarm that seems to spread as epidemic contagion. From conjuring up imaginary attacks on Christianity in holiday greeting to the terrorist violence of Islamic extremism, alarms are sounding in the newspapers and newscasts, on internet social media and opinion columns, in the debates and campaigns of presidential candidates. At least those of us who aspire to follow Jesus Christ are in dire need of the word he spoke to his disciples in Mark 13:7, “Do not be alarmed!”

This counter-cultural word comes to us in a timely fashion in the Gospel reading suggested by the Revised Common Lectionary for this coming Sunday, November 15, 2015 – Mark 13:1-8. This compact vignette is a window into how our distorted perspectives rob us of joy and cripple our spirits.

Yes, the disciple who was in awe at the size of the stones in the Jerusalem Temple may have belied his small town Galilean provincialism, but we all are susceptible to overplaying human significance. The problem here was not so much undue respect for the engineering feat of building the Jerusalem Temple, but a short sighted assigning permanence to the transitory. Forgetting that construction of the Temple had only begun one generation earlier by Herod the Great, they imagined it could not be destroyed. So they could hardly grasp that Jesus said all those great stones would be thrown down, not just a physical demolition but the end of Israel as a political entity for nearly 2,000 years. The destruction of Jerusalem and its Temple by the Romans in 70 AD came in the lifetime of at least some of those who heard Jesus’ words.

Especially in the political season we hear candidates accusing each other of threatening the American way of life and the US Constitution, as though they should be eternal but could be brought down by the opposite party. Adopted in 1789, the US Constitution has served well for over two and a quarter centuries, longer than the founding document still in used today by almost any country in the world, and I expect will persist for a few more generations. As amazing as the US Constitution is, it is not divine (it doesn’t even mention God) and is not eternal. Whether in the flow of history or in apocalyptic climax, the United States and its wonderful constitution will pass from the scene of human affairs. While 226 years is a long time, it is a mere blip on the flow of God’s salvation history tracing to the call of Abraham (more or less) 4,000 years ago. (I won’t even venture a guess at understanding the timing of Genesis 1-11.) When we are alarmed about unsettling trends in our own time, we will do well to take a dose of humility as an antidote to hubris, easing anxiety with perspective on God’s hand in the broad flow of human history.

Jesus’ inner circle of first called disciples – Peter, James, John, and Andrew – want to know when this catastrophe will occur. Like many Christian through the centuries, they crave the power in insider knowledge. They want to be one up on the other disciples. They want to be able to assign special meanings to the events they witness. With periodic regularity, some self-proclaimed Bible scholar claims to have cracked the code of the last days and will let you in on the secret for the price of a book or movie or with a solicitation of a contribution to a broadcast or an organization. Not knowing their hearts, I can’t say that some of them don’t mean well, but Jesus would remind us that, at best, they are self-deluded, and he warns us not to be led astray or alarmed by them.

Human history seems to be the ebb and flow of perpetual warfare. I am writing this on Veterans’ Day 2015, which was originally called Armistice Day and celebrated the end of World War I, then called “The Great War” and “The War to End All Wars.” In retrospect, we see how The Treaty of Versailles negotiated between the Allies and Germany in June 1919 sowed the seeds that spawned World War II. Though many individual wars have started and ended, the world has floundered through perpetual war ever since.

I well remember growing up hearing how the Soviet Union was not just a threat to world peace but fulfilled the prophetic conditions to release the apocalyptic cataclysm with nuclear weapons that would precede the Second Coming of Jesus. In our time, many view Islamist violence in a similar way. I have to admit that as I observed the fading of communism and the rise of radical Islam, it seemed a closer fit to the spiritual struggles of the last days as described in the Bible than an atheistic philosophy and economic system. However, Jesus told his disciples that they would hear of wars and rumors of wars, but they were not the end. Therefore, they should not be alarmed. I believe Jesus also says to us, “Of course you are hearing of wars. Why would you expect anything else from the world? They are not the end. Do not be alarmed!”

Jesus also mentioned widespread earthquakes. Without a doubt the instant news media keep us informed about earthquake and other natural disasters from Haiti to Nepal. We even have less destructive earthquakes in previously seismically stable areas, attributed to fracking and drilling though not without controversy. The changing climate, also politically and economically controversial, is bringing not only powerful storms and rising sea levels but also drought and flooding.  My point is not to invoke Jesus in those political controversies (at least not here), but to recognize that Jesus indicated such things were commonplace and not signs of apocalyptic catastrophe but were the beginnings of birth pangs, so “Do not be alarmed!”

Having witnessed my wife’s birth pangs when she delivered our three sons, I have safely witnessed that anguish without experiencing it myself. I know it is real and at some moments can seem endless. Yet, Jesus purposely used birth pangs to describe the things about which we are easily alarmed. Birth pangs are necessary and inescapable to bringing new life into the world. If we will listen to Jesus in this compact conversation, I believe we can hear him tell us, “Do not be alarmed! New life is on the way! We may experience some of that new life ourselves as Jesus lives in and through us on our journeys, and he will give us perspective to perceive the new life that is out there beyond our personal horizons.

Learn pray from Elijah

Prayer overflows from Scripture

Deuteronomy 28:23-24; 1 Kings 17:1; 18:45; James 5:17-18

Seek God’s reputation, not your own comfort or convenience

1 Kings 18:36-37

Puts us in touch with God, and does not try to convince God to do what we want. Contrast “prayers” of the prophets of Ba’al with Elijah’s prayer

1 Kings 18:27-28; 36-37

Hydrogen Atom as Icon

“As for me, I shall behold your face in righteousness; when I awake I shall be satisfied, beholding your likeness.” Psalm 17:15

The longing to see God permeates Scripture. Jesus said, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.” (Matthew 5:8) Søren Kierkegaard built his book Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing around the idea that if the only thing you actually want is to see God, you will see God. Jesus also told his disciples, “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.” (John 14:9) Of course, The Ten Commandments prohibit physical images of God as idols. (Exodus 20:4; Deuteronomy 5:8). So this is not a physical sight but a spiritual longing and vision.

The Eastern Orthodox understanding of icons is not that they are pictures to look at as though they were images of God, but as windows to look through to perceive spiritual realities that cannot be seen physically. As I contemplated Psalm 17:5 and my passion to see God, I thought that perhaps the hydrogen atom might be an icon through with I can see God’s simplicity and unlimited possibilities.

One rather simplistic insight of the Big Bang Theory of the origin of the universe is that the first atoms created in the Big Bang were hydrogen, one proton and one electron. The postulate is that all of the principles and forces necessary for the diverse complexity of the universe is embedded in the simplicity of the hydrogen atom. In my own lifetime I remember reading some scientific skepticism about the Big Bang Theory because it was too much like Genesis 1:3, “Let there be light,” since the presupposition was gradualism rather than an instantaneous event. But as the Big Bang Theory gained both wider scientific and popular acceptance, some suggested, perhaps tongue in cheek, that God is/was a hydrogen atom (or that a hydrogen atom is/was God). This was before the Higgs Boson was nicknamed the God particle. Theologically, the Ten Commandments would certainly condemn such as equation as idolatrous.

However, as I meditated on Psalm 17:15, I considered the possibility of looking through the hydrogen atom as a window into a deep spiritual reality, rather than looking at the hydrogen atom as though it was equivalent or interchangeable with God. Psalms 19:7; 116:6; 119:130 speak of God’s special care for simple people (in contrast to Proverbs that uses simple to contrast with wise people). When I find my mind (and soul) getting boggled by what I cannot grasp, I have often turned to Psalm 131:2, “I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother,” and envisioned myself curled up on God’s lap content as in a mother’s embrace.

The utter simplicity of the hydrogen atom – one proton, one electron – shows me this simplicity of God. God doesn’t expect me to understand everything but to rest in Divine simplicity. But if, as the Big Bang Theory proposes, all of the unlimited and complex diversity of the universe rose of such simplicity, can I not perceive that out of God’s simplicity grows an ever expanding profundity that will always be beyond all human explanation, certainly beyond me. As I reflect on this, awe prompts worship to arise from me to be lifted toward God.

This meditation that began with and returns to Psalm 17:15 suggests that as I contemplate the juxtaposition of God’s simplicity and unlimited possibility I am getting a spiritual glimpse of the face of God.

Teach Us To Pray

Pictures from 2nd and 3rd century catacombs of women leading prayer in worship. (above and below)

Eastern Orthodox icon detail of woman leading prayer in worship.

The familiar version of The Lord’s Prayer comes from the middle of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 6:9-13 KJV). We are less familiar with the version in Luke 11:2-4 where Jesus responded to his disciples’ request, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.”

While I am certainly not Jesus, many have recognized how important I believe prayer is for us as individual disciples of Jesus and for us together as a congregation. I have been asked in a variety of ways to teach how to pray. The prayer exercises I have planned for Lent are in response to those requests. I am making them available here for any who wish to use them.

Praying with Scripture

My simplest answer to the question, “How can I learn to pray?” is to pray with Scripture. When I was with Henri Nouwen at the Daybreak Community in Ontario nearly 23 years ago, he compared praying with Scripture to a cow chewing its cud, talking over a specific passage with God for a prolonged period to extract the maximum nutrition. I was interested to read in the January 21, 2015 issue of the Christian Century (p. 8), that the nuns of the Abby of St. Walberga in Colorado, who raise beef cattle, connect their cattle and their prayers. They say, “Praying with Scripture is like chewing your cud. All through the day we’re ruminating on it. We chew, chew, chew, swallow, regurgitate.”

I also like a different image from the 4^th century Desert Father Abba Poeman who said, “The nature of water is soft, that of stone is hard; but if a bottle is hung above the stone, allowing the water to fall drop by drop, it wears away the stone. So it is with the Word of God; it is sort and hour heart is hard, but those who open their hearts the Word of God often, open their hearts to the fear of God.” I like to think of this as God’s way of using Scripture to make my heart match the heart of Jesus.

If you want to learn to pray with Scripture, you must start by filling the reservoir of your heart with Scripture. It is not a matter of how much Scripture you can read through but how much of what you are reading gets into you. For over 30 years I have taken a week with just three passages (Hebrew Scripture, Epistle, Gospel from the Common Lectionary) and spend time with them every day. For about 45 years I have prayed through 5 Psalms a day, thus coming back to each of them once a month (the day’s date +30+30+30+30). At least once a week I devote substantial time to being silent in God’s presence with no agenda of my own. I just wait for the Holy Spirit to bring from the reservoir of Scripture in my heart an invitation to have a conversation with God.

The Lord’s Prayer

Jesus gave his disciples and us The Lord’s Prayer (Matthew 6:9-13; Luke 11:2-4) as our basic starting point for learning to pray. I somehow doubt that he intended or expected it to be memorized and recited in private devotions and public worship (unless you consider his divine foreknowledge of what would happen centuries later was purposely included in what he was teaching his disciples at the time). Rather, he gave it as a model on which we could confidently build not just our individual prayers but our complete prayer lives. The Lord’s Prayer is remarkable for being amazingly simple, compact and comprehensive.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer considered The Lord’s Prayer to be the summation and climax of the Psalms. He explains this in The Cost of Discipleship, which is really a commentary on The Sermon on the Mount as instruction for practical spirituality and discipleship. In his less known little book, Psalms the Prayerbook of the Bible, Bonhoeffer suggests that as a boy growing up in a devout Jewish home, Jesus learned to pray from the Psalms, so that when he taught his disciples to pray he could condense the totality of the richness and depth of the prayers of God’s people through the generations into the exquisite nugget we know as The Lord’s Prayer.

If the Psalms are the reservoir from which The Lord’s Prayer is extracted, the prayers in the New Testament Epistles are their extension from the Hebrew community to the global community of the Church through the centuries. The Psalms express a profound longing for God. The prayers of the Epistles express an awesome awareness of God present and active among the people of the Church and the Church at work in an often hostile world.

Prayers from the Epistles

If you want to grow in your praying I recommend to you praying the prayers in the Epistles for this congregation. Perhaps take just one prayer a week. Read it slowly every day. Ask the Holy Spirit to enable you to pray in this same way for this congregation. I promise you far beyond your routine prayers asking for God’s blessing into spiritual territory that might even be a little scary.

·         Romans 1:8-10

·         1 Corinthians 1:4-9

·         Ephesians 1:15-23

·         Ephesians 3:14-21

·         Philippians 1:3-11

·         Colossians 1:3-14

·         1 Thessalonians 1:2-3

·         2 Thessalonians 1:11-12

These prayers confront us with what Annie Dillard asked in her 1982 book Teaching a Stone to Talk. “Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? … The sleeping God may wake someday and take offense, or the waking God may draw us out to where we can never return.”

Prayer as Vocation

Weavings, the magazine for spiritual formation from the Upper Room, tells how Glenn Hinson, Professor Emeritus of Spirituality and Church History, Baptist Theological Seminary at Richmond, Virginia, visited the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky with a group of seminarians. They heard a talk by Thomas Merton on contemplation. One student asked Merton, “What is a smart fellow like you doing in a place like this?” Hinson expected a stiff response from Merton. Instead Merton said, “I am here because I believe in prayer. That is my vocation.” However the student took Merton’s response, Hinson said that it had never before occurred to him to think of prayer as a vocation.

Vocation is not what someone does to earn a living. Vocation is not someone’s career. Vocation is someone’s calling. The root word is the same as “vocal.” Vocation is to be about what you have been called for. As Christians, of course, we recognize God’s calling, but I believe everyone has a calling, even if they don’t follow it. Vocation for Christians is not about their jobs or their careers, though they may often mesh together. Christian vocation is not about those who are called to careers in ministries such as pastors, chaplains, missionaries, professors. Christian vocation is about God’s call to every Christian to live out the life of Jesus wherever they are and whatever they are doing.

We easily make the mistake of thinking that people with a prayer vocation are somehow giants who live in a rarified spiritual atmosphere. However, the great spiritual classics make clear what is taught in Scripture and lived by Jesus, that the vocation of prayer is lived out in the ordinary rhythms of life. Thomas ‘a Kempis’ The Practice of the Presence of God shows us the spiritual power he knew in the kitchen. Jean-Pierre de Caussade’s The Sacrament of the Present Moment shows us how to recognize God when we focus on what is now.

A Lenten Prayer Journey

I have come to deeply appreciate worship on Ash Wednesday with its emphasis on our spiritual frailty and mortality that sharpens the wonder of the resurrection. That evening we will begin our Lenten Wednesday evenings with an experience of the prayer of examen as we receive the ancient sign of imposed ashes. On the subsequent Wednesday evenings after enjoying your wonderful tradition of “Stone Soup Suppers,” I will guide you through a different prayer experience each week.

·         Ash Wednesday: Prayer of Examen

·         Lent 2: Praying the Four Points of the Compass

·         Lent 3: Praying with the Church through the Centuries

·         Lent 4: Praying for Healing and Wholeness

·         Lent 5: Praying Without Words

·         Lent 6: Praying with Scripture

Ash Wednesday: Prayer of Examen

Read Psalm 139:1-6, 23-24

Prayer: Finding the Heart’s True Home – Richard Foster

Precious Savior, why do I fear your scrutiny? Yours is an examen of love. Still, I am afraid … afraid of what may surface. Even so, I invite you to search me to the depths. So that I may know may myself – and you – in fuller measure. Amen.

             

Spiritual Exercises – Ignatius of Loyola

Pray silently to receive the grace for three things:

              First, that I may feel an interior knowledge of my sins and also an abhorrence of them.

              Second, that I may perceive the disorder in my actions, in order to detest them, amend myself, and put myself in order.

              Third, that I may have a knowledge of the world, in order to detest it and rid myself of all that is worldly and vain.

Imagine Christ our Lord suspended on the cross before you and converse with him. How is it that he, although he is the Creator, has come to make himself a human being? How is it that he has passed from eternal life to death here in time, and to die in this way for my sins?

Reflect on yourself and ask: What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I do for Christ?

Lent 2: Praying the Four Points of the Compass

Read Daniel 6:3-10

You may modify my pattern to match your experiences and relationships.

I start facing EAST, toward the rising sun. I pray the Lord’s Prayer and take one step forward. I thank God for a new day, review what I know is coming, ask for God’s guidance and release the day to Him. I pray for people I know who are east of me. Our son Jon and his family. My two of my nieces and their families. The folk I served at Central Christian Church, this congregation and in New Jersey. I pray for the people in government in Washington, for Europe, Africa and the Middle East.

Then I step back to the center, turn SOUTH and pray the Prayer of St. Francis. After stepping forward I pray for people I know south of me. The church I served in Duncanville. Southwest Good Samaritan Ministries. The people I got to know in Haiti and Honduras and our son Jon and his family know in Guatemala. News events taking place in Latin America.

I step back to the center, turn WEST and pray the L’Arche Prayer. I take a step west and pray for people I know west of me. My nephew serving with the Navy in Guam. The church I served in Odessa. Those I grew up with in California, friends in Colorado. I pray about people and events in Asia, including Afghanistan and Pakistan, Thailand and Burma. As I was giving thanks for the people in China who cared for our granddaughter Elizabeth for the first 15 months of her life and her biological parents.

Then I step back to the center, turn NORTH and pray the invocation and memorial prayers I typically use in the funeral liturgy. Those north of me whom I pray for include Candy’s Dad, our son David and his family, our niece and her family, the people of the churches we served in Illinois and Wisconsin, the people at the Daybreak community where we lived in Ontario.

After stepping back to the center, I face east again and reflect on having traced a cross with my steps, then I lift my hands and sing a hymn of praise to Christ.

Lent 3: Praying with the Church through the Centuries

The Great Thanksgiving from the classic liturgy of the Church offers wonderful guidance for group prayer that can be used individually as well.

Sursum Corda

The Lord be with you.

And also with you.

Lift up your hearts.

We lift them to the Lord.

Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.

It is right to give our thanks and praise.

We lift our hearts up to you and give thanks to you our Lord and our God. To give you praise is always and everywhere right and a good and joyful thing, Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth.

Thanksgiving

You are invited to speak aloud your thanksgivings in a word or two, and all will respond:

Lord, we give you thanks …

Sanctus

Therefore we praise you, joining our voices with Angels and Archangels and with all the company of heaven, who forever sing to the glory of your Name.

Holy, Holy, Holy Lord, God of power and might, heaven and earth are full of your glory. Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest.

Confession

Oh holy God you see us as we are, and know our inmost thoughts. We confess that we are unworthy of your gracious care. We forget that all life comes from you and that to you all life returns. We have not always sought or done your will.

We have not lived as your grateful children, nor loved as Christ loved us. Apart from you, we are nothing. Only your grace can sustain us.

Lord, in your mercy, forgive us, heal us and make us whole. Set us free from our sin, and restore to us the joy of your salvation, now and forever, through Jesus Christ our Lord. 

Amen.

Assurance of Pardon

Hear the good news! Who is in a position to condemn? Only Christ, and Christ died for us, Christ rose for us, Christ reigns in power for us, Christ prays for us. Anyone who is in Christ is a new creation. The old life has gone; a new life has begun. Know that in Christ you are forgiven and be at peace.

Memorial Acclamation

Great is the mystery of faith.

Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

Intercessions

You are invited to speak aloud your requests in a few words, ending with:

For this we pray to the Lord:

and all will respond:

Lord, hear our prayer.

Let us pray for our world:

Let us pray for our nation:

Let us pray for our community:

Let us pray for Christ’s Church:

Let us pray for our congregation:

Let us pray for our families and friends:

Let us pray for ourselves:

Collect

Almighty God, whose beloved Son willingly endured the agony and shame of the cross for our redemption: Give us courage to take up our cross and follow him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

Amen.

Lent 4: Praying for Healing and Wholeness

Read James 5:13-20.

Verbal, face to face, personal confession is not the exclusive domain of Roman Catholic priests and parishioners. Protestant tradition emphasizes the great Reformation principle of the Priesthood of All Believers. Thus, any Christian can legitimately hear the confession of any sister or brother in Christ. I would suggest that this is beneficial when guilt or shame over some sin or failing just doesn’t seem to go away. Then you may choose someone who spiritual maturity you trust to hear your confession. They can then respond, “In Christ you are forgiven, be at peace.” And if someone wants you to hear their confession, you can do them a powerful spiritual service by speaking aloud that same Assurance of Pardon.

Take a few moments for silent confession after which read aloud the Assurance of Pardon, “In Christ you are forgiven, be at peace.”

If you want a prayer of laying on of hands by the Elders and anointing as described in James, please see your pastor or one of your Elders.

Lent 5: Praying Without Words

Have you ever felt prayer surging up from deep inside that you just can’t seem to get into words? These two Scriptures give us some encouragement and guidance.

Read Romans 8:26-27 and Psalm 31:5.

Sit silently with eyes closed for a few moments thinking about these Scriptures. As something comes into your mind that is a peace or gift or presence from the Holy Spirit, turn your hands with palms up as a sign of receiving it. As something crosses your mind that you wish to release to God, turn your hands with palms down or out as a sign of letting it go to God.

After a few moments read Romans 8:26-27 and Psalm 31:5 aloud.

Lent 6: Praying with Scripture

Read John 12:20-33.

Follow this Short Guide to Lectio Divina From Discover Your Spiritual Type: A Guide to Individual and Congregational Growth by Corinne Ware, © 1995 The Alban Institute, Inc.

Lectio (Read): Read the passage carefully, getting the sequence and detail without thinking too much about the meaning. Imagine the time of day, season of the year, smells of the land, sounds of the countryside, the human touches – all the elements that would make this scene real to you. Transport yourself into the setting using your imagination.

Meditatio (Meditate): Read the scripture again. Why is there a record of this particular event or saying? What is the significance of this passage in the larger scheme of things? What does this piece mean? How does that affect an understanding of God? Of conduct? Do you see yourself in any of the characters in the passage?

Oratio (Pray): Allow your feelings to surface as you read the passage again. Do you feel happy, sad, angry or guilty? Silently or verbally talk this through with God; tell God what you feel about what you have read. Comment in you prayer on anything in the passage to which you respond.

Contemplatio (Contemplate): Sit quietly, breathe deeply and regularly, and let your mind go blank. As you quiet your inner self, simply listen in your heart. If you receive some impression or thought, quietly notice it; then focus your attention on remaining open. If you have no thoughts or impressions, return your mind to the scripture passage. After a while, open your eyes, rested and refreshed, expressing gratitude for your experience.