“Connections that Change Us”

Across the last few weeks, our worship life here has been nourished by passages from Luke 10. A couple of weeks ago, the Good Samaritan story gave us a fresh lesson on loving our neighbor, calling us to GADL – “go and do likewise.” Last week, the story of Mary and Martha nudged us to think about “the main course.” Where do we find real nourishment as we seek to follow Jesus: is it running around doing things, or do we sit and receive at Jesus’ feet, which will give us life.

            As the story of Jesus continues to unfold into Luke, chapter 11, Jesus goes off to pray; the disciples, intrigued and increasingly engaged by Jesus, appeal to him: “Lord, teach US to pray.” Clearly, their hearts are longing to know, to understand, to figure out how to really follow Jesus, to be formed in faith: “Lord, teach us TO PRAY.”

            Whenever we want to be formed a certain way, to learn something, our apparent tendency is to look for a “how-to list.” If you go to any of the bookstores, there is obviously a very big business that caters to our desire to learn “how-to do” things: how to be a success, how to lose weight, how to fix great meals in 30 minutes, how to grow an organic garden, how to have a life-giving relationships, how to train your dog, and on and on.  Jesus’ disciples seem to be in the “how to” section: “Lord, teach us to pray.”  

            But while they would love a “Prayer for Dummies” class or a nice little “how-to” book on prayer, Jesus offers something much more. He offers them the skeleton of the Lord’s Prayer, and then two examples. It is not so much a “how-to.” It is ultimately about the “Who,” about God, the author and giver of life, and our awareness, our connectedness, our regular engagement with God which will change us from soul to toe, from head to heart.

            Phillip Yancey is one of my favorite writers. He readily tackles tough subjects that haunt his own heart, and his books generally always speak to my heart. Yancey’s recent book entitled Prayer I find especially helpful.  He asks hard questions: does prayer make any difference? Is prayer something that most of say is important, but most of us, when we are honest, admit is lacking in our lives?  

Yancey reminds us that every faith has some form of prayer. Remote tribes present offerings and pray for everyday things like health and food, rain and children. Five times a day, modern Muslims stop whatever they are doing – driving, working, having a coffee break – and devote themselves to prayer. (Modern Christians might gain something from this practice.) Even atheists find ways to pray. During the days of Communism in Russia, party stalwarts kept a “red corner” where they would go and summon the courage of Stalin. Yancy reminds us that to be human means to pray.

            Yancy also quotes Thomas Merton: “Prayer is an expression of who we are …We are a living incompleteness. (What a great phrase – living incompleteness) We are a gap that calls for fulfillment.” That is a keen insight. So in prayer we seek to break the silence, the separation, and connect to God, find completeness with God. (see Yancey, Prayer, p. 13)

            Jesus’ disciples appealed to him: “Lord, teach us to pray.” They recognized that they were a living incompleteness and they longed to feel grounded, focused, engaged as they saw him praying. 

            I think when we are honest with our own lives, we know about this “living incompleteness.” Just think about this: it seems that if we can be in touch with others, we want to be. We have constant contact with work and one another through email and text messages. We seem always, especially the younger generation, to stay connected – we even have to post signs outside the sanctuary, but now in movies and restaurants – “please refrain from talking and texting.” Isn’t this all related to our longing to be connected, this living incompleteness? People drive in their cars; what are they doing? Talking on the phone. People get off the plane or even walking down the street alone – talking to someone. We find ourselves always dealing with this “living incompleteness” and wanting to be in touch with someone, others.  It is part of why grief remains so hard – that one who loved us or whom we loved: parent, spouse, child, partner – when they are gone we feel so empty. All this echoes, “we are a living incompleteness.”

            The word prayer comes from the Latin word – precarius – a linguistic cousin of our word – precarious.  “Precarious” means uncertain, insecure. 

            Who among us in these days needs to be told that we live in a precarious world? We open the newspaper and there is another article related to the dangers of life – someone is shot at a nearby intersection; a body found in the river, a student still missing; distraught family life. Life IS precarious.

Then there are other precarious issues - the mess in Afghanistan – will it ever end? Is there a way out, for peace? The environment is under duress. The planet is struggling. This leaves us precarious, even when we, compared to much of the world, have abundant blessings.

Some of us are off to Malawi tomorrow. In Malawi, the median age of the entire country is around 14, and the life expectancy is less than 40.  And these are facts from this year – not 1810, 2010!   Precarious?   We know about precarious.  

            Jesus’ disciples say, “Lord, teach us to pray.”  Teach us to find connection, foundation.  Teach us to discover help and hope, wholeness and life in the precarious world.  How do we find it? This is our plea too.

            But notice, Jesus does not give “a how-to.”  Jesus points all of us to “the Who.” God, the maker of all things, is real – not an abstract idea – but the one in whom we live and move and have our being. God, who moved over the darkness at the beginning of creation, is always moving over our lives, our darkness. We are not alone. We are never forgotten. We are known and loved and held through all things. God addresses our living incompleteness and that changes us for life and faith and purpose.

So prayer is the road that connects us to God. Prayer is the practice that keeps us grounded in God’s love. Prayer is the reminder that where we are, the things we do, the activities of our lives, the plans we make, the places we go, are not all there is. There is always God at work - God to be engaged, God to live with, relate to, love and worship – then we find life. 

            And notice how Jesus teaches about prayer: it is not about how many hours we pray (though that can be a helpful discipline), or what words you say in prayer (though that can nurture us), or what posture you give your body (though that can inspire us). Fundamentally, it is about recognizing that our life is connected to God. It is about affirming that there is no piece of our lives where God is not involved – daily bread, forgiveness, protecting us from temptation and evil. It is about affirming that life is lived before God, in God’s presence, within the sight of God. As disciples, we live in the hope that “God watches over our coming and going.” Proverbs reminds us to trust God, lean not on our own understanding. And prayer is the principle means by which we trust and grow into this trust.

The disciples say, “Lord, teach us to pray.”  And Jesus says, when you pray it is about lifting your gaze -

-       from self to God,

-       from the mesmerizing things of the present to the promise of the eternal,

-       from the things that capture us and hold of captive to the One who loves us and holds us forever. 

It is about lifting our gaze.

            Most of you may have heard of writer, Annie Dillard. Mary Flinn went to college with her. Annie Dillard reminds us that in the ups and downs of life, in the coming of going, we cannot control the things that happen to us. We cannot manage or control the light or the darkness that comes our way. But what we can do is get ourselves into the beams of light. We can put our lives in a position to be brightened, illumined, changed. In essence, Jesus is saying this is what prayer helps us to do – when we pray, we put ourselves more vividly in the light of God, more solidly in the presence and care of God, the Light of the world. Even though challenges can come crashing upon us, even though we live in a precarious atmosphere, even though we often feel overwhelmed by certain things, our lives and our world are related to God.  Prayer is the way we connect and enfold our lives in God and grow in trust and devotion all our days.

            Some of you know that a couple of weeks ago I spent most of the week at Ferrum College at a seminar for traumatized police officers. It was an event that continues to call forth my energy as I try to provide ministry and support for police who have been in traumatic and violent incidents – shootings, car wrecks, other very difficult circumstances. These police come together from across VA to support each other, to find healing and hope.

            The first day of this seminar is always spent listening to all these hard stories of trauma from each participant. It is a whole day of hearing heartache and horror. One person describes that first day at the seminar as “drinking from a fire hose of suffering.” It is an apt description. It is literally unbelievable to learn what many people deal with, especially police officers.  These are folks who, in the line of duty, have been shot and had to shoot people; they are people with fears and doubts; they are people living with nightmares and negative images, guilt and gory details. And as the seminar moves through 3 days, these devoted people find help and wholeness. 

            In the context of this seminar, one of the leaders made the comment that there are basically two kinds of people: control freaks and recovering control freaks.  

            Most of us, not just police officers, tend to be control freaks. We operate under the illusion that we have great say about our lives, that we are where we are because of what we have done, that we can succeed and achieve in almost any circumstance. 

            But then there are the healthy folk – “the recovering control freaks.”

            When the disciples beg “Lord, teach us to pray,” Jesus points us to God. Jesus reminds us where our lives are grounded, where our hearts find home, where our hope lies. We really are not in control. But we are related to God. Prayer connects us to God. This is how we live.

            In those familiar words from Proverbs: “trust in the Lord with all your heart,” there is the invitation for us to re-frame life for faithful living.   Through trusting and praying, we are encouraged, in essence, to take a holiday, a vacation, from our regular tendency to be in charge, to control everything, and let God be God.

This is about connecting our lives to God’s grand care and love. It is about linking our hearts to God’s heart. It is about affirming where our lives begin and end. Through prayer, through God’s care, we discover life and hope, purpose and peace that allow us to keep living, keep giving our lives in loving service to the glory of God.  May this be our way – connections that change us - today and forever.  Amen

Prayer: Holy God, to turn from you is to fall; to turn to you is to rise, to stand with you, to connect to you – that is to abide forever. We commit to that way following Jesus.  Amen

Alex Evans, Pastor, Second Presbyterian Church, Richmond, VA preached this sermon during morning worship on Sunday, July 25, 2010. This is a rough manuscript.