Prayer and Meditation

Scripture: Matthew 6:5-15

This text from Matthew that we just read is part of the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew’s collection of Jesus’ teachings. These are the words and the teachings that people remembered and held dear as Jesus’ special wisdom for his disciples. And let me tell you, Jesus is a hard act to follow. His teachings are full of insight into how we humans are—both how we want to be, and how we really are. And in this particular teaching on prayer, he gives us a few pithy instructions on how to pray and how not to. It’s very concentrated—the kind of teaching that can leave you pondering for hours, weeks, your whole lifetime.

In light of all that, I don’t think I’ll be able to cover all the ground that this wonderful passage covers. What I’d like to do instead is to start out with some practical instructions of my own, and then to give you a few thoughts on the disciples’ prayer. What I’m hoping for you is that when you leave here, you’ll have some new tools for beginning or refreshing your prayer life, and that you’ll find a little more meaning in the words when you pray the disciple’s prayer. All that in just one hour. It’s going to be great. Oh, and you do have permission to laugh, even though it’s Lent.

So, let’s talk about prayer first. What about prayer? Well, it’s one of those things, I think, that most of us would like to be good at. It may even be like flossing—something that we know we should do, but that somehow gets overlooked. I know lots of people and lots of situations that could really use some good prayer, and some good divine intervention, too. But prayer is a hard habit to cultivate. There is the problem of it being boring sometimes, and at the same time requiring focus. Finding the time, and the quiet and so on. But I believe that a good prayer life is as good for Christians as flossing is for gums. And if that analogy doesn’t totally turn you off to the idea of regular prayer, then here are my suggestions on beginning or renewing a spiritual discipline of prayer.

First, pick a regular time during the day to pray. In other parts of the gospels, we learn that Jesus went up to the mountains really early in the morning to pray. Similarly, I’ve heard legends about John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, arising at four in the morning to say his prayers. There may be some early risers in this crowd, too, and I think you know who you are. But that doesn’t mean that prayer has to happen before the crack of dawn. Each of us is different, and each of us feels alert and awake at different times. Maybe ten minutes sitting outside after lunch works best for you, or maybe at night before going to sleep. Try different things until you find something that works.

Second, choose a good place. Part of developing the habit of prayer is training your body for it. So find a comfortable position—although not too comfortable that you fall asleep—and a good quiet place. As Jesus puts it, go into your room alone to pray.

Third, you’re allowed to make mistakes. Let’s say you’ve gotten up every morning at four am for your prayers for the last three weeks, but after a night out on the town you sleep in until five am. Don’t worry—just pray at five, or else pick up your habit the next morning. The important thing is not to get perfect attendance, the important thing is to develop the habit of praying. Some days you may miss, but get back up on the horse. That’s all.

Fourth, set some reasonable expectations. If you’re the type who likes lists, write up a list of people to pray for and keep it handy. But one suggestion I’ve heard is to decide when you start praying for someone how long you’re going to pray—a week, a month, and so on. Of course, the things that stick in our hearts aren’t going to just go away, but don’t create a discouraging mountain of prayers that keeps you from wanting to pray at all.

And that leads me to my fifth point, which is: think of prayer as a conversation. Because after all my talk about lists and requests and picking a good place and time of day, what prayer really is, at its heart, is a conversation with God. It’s a time for listening to what God has to say to you, just as much as it’s a time for bringing your deeply felt needs to God. It’s a time for saying thank you, and I’m sorry, just as much as it’s a time for saying, I need.

What a humbling thought! You might be interested to know that in the original Aramaic version of the disciples’ prayer from our reading, the word that we usually translate as father – Abba – is actually closer to “Papa” or “Dad.” It’s a word used in an intimate relationship, not quite as formal as “Father” sometimes is. And this word, Abba, was distinctive to Jesus. And this is the relationship he makes possible between us and God—a loving, intimate, personal relationship. With the creator of the universe. It’s an amazing, shocking idea, really, if you can step back from it for a minute.

Given this, prayer is not something meant to be checked off our list of things to do. It’s not another task that God demands of us, something to be added to the daily schedule. Prayer is meant to infuse our whole lives. To become our way of living in the world—in constant conversation with God. And through this, prayer transforms us, and through us, the world. This doesn’t mean that you should be constantly muttering under your breath—conversation between good friends—even with God—often includes companionable silences. Rather, the goal is to be aware of God’s presence, and to enjoy it, and act in love on the strength of it.

Brother Lawrence was a monk who lived in the sixteen hundreds. He worked in the monastery kitchen, and people noticed that he almost always had a cheerful manner about him. A Cardinal who came to visit him and ask him about it writes that “with him the set times of prayer were no different than other times; that he retired to pray, according to the directions of his superior, but he did not want such retirement, nor ask for it, because his greatest business did not divert him from God.”1

So if you’re looking for a challenge tonight, there it is: to live each moment in God’s presence. I believe that developing this habit of dwelling in God’s presence will bring you a life of joy and contentment. Not that your life will be easy, necessarily, with no problems. Just that it will be marked by love—divine love. Not quite there yet? The first step is to make a habit of praying for a few minutes each day.

Meditation is not very different from prayer, and is another way that we can open ourselves up to God. I think if I were going to describe it, I’d say that it’s the practice of focusing your attention. Most of my suggestions for prayer apply to meditation, too—find a good place and time, and give yourself plenty of time to develop the habit. Meditation in Eastern traditions is also very strongly connected to breath. Paying attention to how you’re breathing is connected to what your mind is doing. If your breath is fast and uncontrolled, then your mind is also going to go in a thousand directions at once. But if the breath is slow and deliberate, it allows the mind to focus in on something important.

So, since we’re here, let’s give some meditation a try. Don’t worry—it’s only for a minute—nothing big. We’ll take some breaths together and then meditate on a Bible verse from the reading. So, please close your eyes, get comfortable, and take a deep breath, then let it out. Now another breath, and let it out. Now another breath, and let it out. Pay attention to your breathing for a minute and let your mind calm down. Now focus with me for a minute. Give us this day our daily bread. Give us this day our daily bread. What does bread look like? What does it taste like? Give us this day our daily bread. What does bread feel like? What does it mean to ask for bread each day? To rely on God for each day’s nourishment? Give us this day our daily bread. What other ways does God nourish you? Give us this day our daily bread.

All right, take a few more breaths and when you’re ready you can open your eyes. How did that feel? Hopefully, you were able to get past those nagging questions—what is Amy doing? Or, what dish am I bringing next Wednesday? And to find a new picture or idea in the verse, maybe even a new understanding about God or your relationship. Thank you for taking part in the experiment.

So, I’ve talked some about prayer and ways to get started in the habit of it, or goals for improving your prayer life. And you’ve gotten a short introduction to meditation. So what I’d like to do now, is just spend a little time with the prayer we heard in the sermon today—the prayer Jesus taught to his disciples, and the one most of us say at least once a week at church.

The first thing to notice about this prayer is that it’s very short. Earlier in the passage, Jesus tells the disciples not to show off their prayer skills on the street corners or to use a lot of words to try to manipulate God into doing what they want by sheer force of annoyance. This prayer is an example of that modesty of expression. It’s just a few lines long, and gets right to the point:

-Our Father—a relationship of trust and closeness

-Who art in heaven—so we know we’re talking about God

-Hallowed be thy name—a prayer of respect and praise—a prayer for God’s name to always be honored.

-Thy kingdom come—a prayer for God’s plan for the whole world to come into being.

-Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. —and in the interim, a prayer that what God wants to have happen will happen on earth

-Give us this day our daily bread—please give us what we need each day.

-And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us—Forgive us for the wrong we do, so long as we forgive others the wrongs they do us. There’s a sticky one, something to consider—do I forgive people the way that I hope God will forgive me?

-And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one—and help us stay out of trouble, rather than testing our limits of resistance.

-For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever and ever, Amen.

Can you think of anything that’s missing? I’m sure there’s always more to be said, but Jesus has given us a beautiful, simple prayer that honors God, and that covers all the important points in just a few lines. Amazing. Sometimes faith seems very complicated, but the heart of it is simple. Hard to live out, but simple.

This is also a demanding prayer. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done. You can’t pray those prayers and truly mean them and not be compelled to action. This is a prayer that inspires and changes us. A prayer that calls us to trust God and imagine a new future under God’s government.

Finally, this is a prayer with many layers. It is the kind of prayer that should be repeated often, not just as something known and familiar, but as something to learn again and again—to drink in and feel. Because we may not always understand it the first time we pray it, or the hundredth time, or the thousandth time.

There’s a story about a little boy whose Sunday school teacher asked him if he knew what God’s name was. “Sure,” he said, “it’s Howard.” “Howard?” said the teacher, “Where do you get that?” “You know,” he said, “from the prayer—Our father, who art in heaven, Howard be thy name….”

We can laugh, since we know what hallowed means, more or less, or at least that it’s not the same thing as Howard. But there is a deep mystery in prayer. Because God hears every prayer we pray, even the ones we don’t know how to pray. As Paul puts it, the Spirit prays on our behalf in groans too deep for words. We may not know yet, what this prayer of Jesus really means. In other words, we don’t know, really, that we aren’t saying Howard be thy name, in some other way, whether through our words or our deeds. We are works in progress. But God is present to us—comes down to our level—and knows what we mean, and what we don’t even know we want to say. This is the grace of prayer, and the astonishing gift of it. May you accept this gift and be strengthened through it this Lent. Amen.

Foolishness

Scriptures: 1 Corinthians 1:18-31
Jonah 2:1-9

Here's what you would expect: You would expect the creator of the universe to have some real power, some real heft. You would expect that the God who tore the oceans apart, who created the sun with a word, who brought life out of nothing, to be able to keep things under control.


And if that God ever came to earth, you would expect somebody powerful. An emperor--or at least a king--someone with some strength. Someone who could command powerful armies, get the world organized right, and then rule forever, or at least for many many years before leaving again, gracefully and mysteriously.

That's what you would expect. But that's not what we got.

In our lesson from Paul's letter to the Corinthians, Paul tells us about Jesus. The Jesus who was God among us -- humble, ordinary, but a teacher and a healer. The Jesus who died on a cross. What people expected, according to the wisdom of the world, was not what they got. Instead, we got God's Foolishness.

You see, anymore you and I are used to seeing the cross. They're in this sanctuary, on top of every church, and I'm even wearing one around my neck as we speak. But the cross is not a pretty decoration. It's an ancient torture device. Can you imagine having electric chairs or nooses where we have crosses now? It's hard to even imagine. But for the early churches, that was the message. God's Foolishness, come to earth in a poor man from the back hills of nowhere, who collected a ragged following of nobodies, and then died an embarrassing death on the cross at the hands of the Roman Empire. God's Foolishness, transformed into the salvation of the world, the path to new life, the welcome back.

Paul's point, of course, writing to a bunch of contentious church folks, is that what looks like wisdom to people is in fact totally ridiculous in God's eyes. What seems powerful to humans is in fact useless and futile.

Which brings us to our story from Jonah.

When we meet Jonah, he is in the belly of a big fish, which is swimming down deep to the bottom of the ocean. How did he get here, you might ask? Well, it all begins with the Ninevites.

Nineveh, in those days, was the capital of a huge empire. An empire that had conquered Israel on more than one occasion. And God was getting ready to do what they call some smiting. Nineveh was wicked, and God had had enough. It was time for punishment.


But first! But first--God wants to give Nineveh one more chance. One more chance to turn back, one more chance to change its ways. So God tells Jonah to go and preach to them. And Jonah hears God's message and promptly turns around and runs in the other direction. This is our first hint that the book of Jonah is satire. Most prophets object when God calls them--Jeremiah: "I'm too young." Isaiah: "I'm not holy enough." Moses: "I'm afraid of public speaking." But Jonah doesn't bother with formalities because what he objects to is God's Foolishness--God's crazy wish to save the Ninevites, even if they are enemies to both God and Israel. Jonah doesn't argue; he runs.

Jonah travels by foot to the Mediterranean, goes to the nearest port, and buys a ticket on a ship to go as far west as he can. But as soon as they're out to sea a couple of days, the water starts to churn and a terrible storm comes up. The sailors are a god-fearing lot, in the sense that they know a storm like this is the result of somebody's god being very, very angry. They draw straws to figure out who's the guilty party. Jonah's straw comes up short. He admits to being the problem. "Yep, it's my God who's mad. He's pretty powerful. I guess you better throw me overboard, then." The sailors hesitate to do this. But even with throwing all the extra cargo overboard, the ship is still in danger. So they chuck Jonah over the side of the ship.

The storm clears immediately. Jonah gets swallowed by a whale.

And this is the point in our story where we know for sure that the writer of Jonah is having a little fun with us. Because as the fish is swimming down, down, down, Jonah is praying up, up, up. As if he weren't in the strangest and most dangerous position. As if he weren't on the run from God.

The fish vomits Jonah up on the beach. He's alive, but slimy. Resigned to his fate, he goes to Ninevah. Ninevah is a huge city--it takes three days to walk all the way across it. Jonah does the absolute minimum of what he's been told. He walks in for one day, stops on the street corner, clears his throat, and utters one sentence: "Repent now, or else God will destroy you!"


One of the Ninevites hears him and tells somebody else, who tells somebody else, who tells somebody else, until the king of the whole city gets word and declares a citywide day of repentance. Everybody dresses in ugly, uncomfortable clothes--even the animals--and they sit around fasting and begging God to forgive them.

Which God does.

Which makes Jonah really mad.


Jonah's human wisdom was that a show of power was needed--maybe a hard flooding rain, or even some fire and brimstone out of the sky. But God's Foolishness, wiser than Jonah's wisdom, is to save the Ninevites, to give them a chance to repent, to reach out to them one last time.

Why does God do this? One simple reason: love. God loves those Ninevites. The men and women, the boys and the girls, and even the animals all dressed up in sackcloth and ashes. God loves them like crazy. Foolishly, even.

Maybe we're a little like the Ninevites. We've been working very hard at being God's enemy in one way or another--with self-destructive lives, with harm to our neighbors, with abuse of the nations outside our empire.
And maybe we're like those early Corinthian Christians--trying to win at impressing God, trying to outdo everybody else. Or maybe we're like those ragtag disciples--trying our hardest, but pretty sure we're not really good enough.

But God's Foolishness is like no human wisdom at all. We are loved, as we are, with no respect to how we look, our race or age, who we love, what our mistakes and missteps are. We are loved. And the cross is the reminder of that. The paradox of God's power, dwelling humbly among us in a way that human wisdom would never expect. God is crazy, foolish even, with love for us. I'll trade human wisdom for that any day. Amen.