PENTECOST 9, PROPER 12 • ST. MARY'S CHURCH

29 July 2007 • Phoenix, AZ

 

 

 

People often cannot get to church in the summer - some are traveling, some avoid going out into the heat - some just need and take a break. In a sly sort of way, however, the Episcopal Church is determined to reward those who come. It schedules summer Scripture so that it presents to the intrepid the greatest, most glorious truths and reassurances of our faith. If you persevere in coming all summer the Church seems to say, you will be especially rewarded, treated to the best Scripture readings of the year. Three weeks ago I commented that lodged in the sultry days of summer was that great reassurance in the Collect that we fully keep all the commandments of God simply by loving him, and our neighbor. And now today. Oh, my goodness, on a lazy summer day in the last days of July on one of the something-something Sundays after Pentecost, is our Lord’s principal teaching on prayer. You are the lucky ones, who have not missed this moment. There is not another like it. In the gospel today of all days, we hear Jesus teaching his followers how to pray, explaining why they should pray, and what they can expect from prayer. Well, all of that is so incredibly important to our lives as Christians that it simply should not be missed.

Still, in the case of this particular Gospel it is important to agree at the outset, what it is not about, what we are not considering, and Jesus is not saying. An odd way to begin I know, and it puts me in mind of my years in Ireland, when I would ask for driving directions out on the road. Some wonderful woman in some tiny village, was always only too glad to be kind and helpful and speed me on my way. The directions were charming really only in remembrance. Ah yes all right then, you go along here as you have been, and you’ll see a road turning to the left - with a great oak just at the corner, you cant miss it, Well take no note of that, That is not a road you’ll be wanting to take. After a bit you’ll see a very pleasant street, lovely old hotel on the corner ... well pay no mind to that as you drive by. She does eventually get to the point of telling me where to go, after much telling me where not to go.

I am going to imitate her - much telling you about what not “to take note of”, what to “pass by”, lest you make a wrong turn.

Silly, but it seems we really do need to be really clear at the outset regarding what our Lord is not saying, what he is not teaching, what he is not implying in the Gospel this morning, before we get possibly hung-up on startling side-issues that have nothing to do with the meaning of the passage.

Jesus is not saying anything about the nature of God, other than that he answers faithful prayer. God is not mean-minded neighbor. The point of the metaphor is not to suggest that God is grudging, and we need to wear him down, the point is not to illustrate anything about the nature of God, but to point up in a graphic and human way the necessity of persevering in prayer. The importuning neighbor has no assurance that his friend will ever give him what he asks for, no assurance that the friend will pay any attention to him and his request. But he does it anyway. How then about us, when we have all the assurances in the world that God will listen, that he intends to respond before we even ask? Why are we so reluctant to ask, so careful regarding what we ask for, so circumspect and self-conscious about what we are willing to take to God in prayer? We already know he is going to grant our requests.

Or do we? Do we assume, even hope, that God answers our prayers?

My Angelus article for this coming issue, already written by me but not yet read by you, is devoted to a very basic consideration of prayer. And the points I make there I will not also make here. But here now, this July morning, there are two points I do want to make, in addition to those in the soon-to-appear Angelus. (By the way, when you get the Angelus, be sure to read David James’ article on the Assumption - superb, and a “must-read” for a congregation like ours!)

The Church has faithfully continued what our Lord established at the very outset, from the very first. The whole subject of prayer is an intensely personal one, personal though not private. You often hear Christians speaking of private prayers. Strictly speaking, there is no such thing. There are individual prayers offered by individuals, but nothing in the Church is ever private. I mean that in a good way, I really do. We are all members of one Body, the Body of Christ, and so anything we do is inseparable from that greater Body, all our own prayers are prayers of the whole Church, whether we are offering those prayers singly or collectively. All the prayers I offer during Mass are your prayers as well. Jesus tells the disciples, "When you pray, say Our Father." Not my Father. The single most basic, most beloved prayer of all Christendom from the lips of our Lord himself, begins in the plural. Deeply personal and thoroughly plural. When you’re most alone, most secretly afraid, most silently hurting, when noting a very single solitary grief or most happy over a very private joy or triumph, needing to give thanks for a blessing only you know about, or to face an issue which is yours alone, say, not My Father, but Our Father. Your father and everyone else’s, and the Church’s Father as well.

“Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep.” That is a heartbreakingly sweet and dear and precious prayer of children. Our Father: give us this day, forgive us, as we forgive others, lead us, deliver us - that is the prayer of grown children, mature followers of our Lord, disciples then and now, just as personal, just as private, but oh, so plural. It is all of us praying together for one another that the Lord will keep our souls, and if we die before we wake, we have the tender, full-family hope that God will our souls take. Every time you pray, all of the saints, all of the angels, all of the Church of the ages, pray with you, as one. You are never alone or isolated in your prayers. We are all with you, and for you.

We are blessed in this parish with a faithful woman, offering prayer each weeknight in the chapel. The uninformed eye would doubtless take note of a lone woman praying. But it is not so, as she well knows. It is the entire parish there, every night, praying through her, it is the unbroken Communion of Saints praying as well, in that little spot, because one a person, a member of the Body of Christ is praying. A solitary offering that draws all of the rest of us along.

There is no private Prayer.

A second great point we learn, and so believe, is that if prayer is never really private, it is always personal, whether it is the prayer of an individual, two or three gathered together, or a congregation, or a mighty throng which no man could number, or the whole company of heaven. Personal through and through. Deeply personal. And personal in the literal sense of the word.

What we are dealing with is a communication between persons. Christian prayer is not some blind offering to some vague deity, intended somehow to affect some impersonal force in the universe. It is the prayer of one person to a personal God. It is a conversation.

When we grasp just how personal prayer is, we move away from the risk of making prayer perfunctory. We may be tempted to offer a set-prayer or a set series of prayers at a set-time during the day, and call it quits. That is not “wrong”, prayer is never wrong. But it is not as right, as helpful, as it could be, as it is intended to be by God. Unless of course, that set-prayer is this Lord’s Prayer - then it is perfect, regardless. But for all other prayers, we need to remember that prayer, however phrased or wherever offered, is the conversation between two who love each other - your soul speaking to the heart of God. We would think it odd if a loving couple said only a few perfunctory, unchanging, and very stylized words to each other at the close of the day and let it go at that. Often couples who know each other well, love each other deeply, and have for many years, do not need many words, communication between them has moved to a deeper, more profound level. But two who care about each other and whisper hurried things and hope for the best, but put no effort into it, expecting little or nothing from it ... now that is a different story, and we would all immediately see that couple as a couple in trouble.

In our day-to-day lives we all do a great deal of talking to others - so it should be in our life with God. Our talking with God should be an ongoing outpouring, a constant communication. Nothing is too small, nothing is inappropriate to bring to him, share with him, discuss with him, ask his advice about, or simply seek his sympathy and understanding for a terrible moment in our lives, and ask his help and strength and compassion and explanation.

Ask, Jesus says, ask our Father, as we all do, and are doing now. Just ask, and you will receive.