Reflection on Mark 12:38-44

Almost no one noticed her. I mean, who would? As the rich enter the temple, their gifts to the temple clang so loudly that everyone’s heads turn to see. That is the whole point, is it not? To be recognized. To be seen as generous. To be seen as holy. To be honored at the heads of tables as the guest.

But, her two little coins barely registered above the conversation taking place right beside the large metal horn that collects the gifts to the temple.

I said almost no one noticed her. One person did notice her. One person did notice that her two copper coins were all that she had to live on. That is right, "all she had to live on." This was a death sentence...giving away it all.

One person recognized exactly what sacrificing your whole life looks like, as he contemplated giving his whole life on a cross.

What do you do when you notice goodness entering a den of thieves? What do you do when you notice that goodness is completely consumed by that den of thieves?

After-all, the poor widows gift will just be wasted on some lavish priestly living. Maybe not. Maybe it will purchase half a brick for the temple. You know, upkeep.

Do you know where the money is supposed to be going? Yes, the money given to the temple is to help provide a living for the priests. Yes, the money given to the temple is understood to provide for some upkeep.

But, the money is also supposed to be used by the temple to care for those whom God cares about: the poor, the orphans, and the widows. God cares about them, and so should everyone else. Well, they are easy to forget.

A recent study noted in a Ken Stern article “Why the Rich Don’t Give to Charity” (The Atlantic, April 2013) found that, statistically, the poor give a higher percentage of their income to charitable causes than do the rich. The study showed that this story of the widow and her two copper coins is the rule and not the exception. But why? Why are the poor so easy to forget?

The study explained that higher exposure to people in need drove greater generosity among those with lesser means. In other words, when you hang out with someone who is struggling, you are more likely to love, understand, and help them. The poor hang out with the poor. Those who can provide for themselves well, do not and often will not hang out with the poor.

That reminds me of a guy who had the power to be rich in any way he desired. He could have all the glory and might that he wanted in heaven and of earth. Angels would be at his command to minister to his every need. The mountains would move if he said jump. Yet, he chose none of those acts of greatness.

Rather, he chose to hang out with the poor and the sinner. He ate with them. He healed them. And, may I point out, in doing so he recognized them as actual people; just as he recognizes that old woman in the temple. Were it not for him, she would have gone unnoticed.

But, with Jesus, you do not go unnoticed. With Jesus, you are not forgotten. And, with Jesus, your gifts and sacrifices are not forgotten either.

Have you ever heard about the story of the hummingbird? There once was a little hummingbird that loved to zip through the forest. She loved the forest with its creek and all of its beautiful, delicious flowers. The forest was a perfect picture of serenity.

One day, the serenity was broken by the sound of heavy equipment and a wave of heat that overtook the forest. Someone was cutting down the trees and had set the forest on fire to clear the underbrush.

All of the animals gathered together to figure out what they were going to do. The hummingbird, who loved the forest, tried to give a suggestion, but she was too small to even be heard.

It was decided by the animals that there was nothing to be done, the evil was too great. They would give up their home and seek refuge somewhere else.

And, that is when one of them saw the hummingbird. She was flying to the creek, gathering a single drop of water in her beak, and flying over the fire, dropping the single drop of water onto the fire. All of the animals laughed at the tiny hummingbird and her futile attempts to save the forest. But, the hummingbird said meekly, “I know I can’t do it all, but at least I am doing something.” At least she was doing something.

At least the old woman was doing something. At least she was trying to provide for those who were struggling just as she. It was not her fault that the culture of the temple was broken, and that her money would go to fill the belly of a priest or buy half a brick rather than put food into the mouth of a hungry, orphaned child.

At least she was trying to do something. And, Jesus does not allow her sacrifice to go unnoticed. Jesus does not allow the weak clunk of her two tiny, copper coins to go unheard. Jesus does not allow any of us to go unnoticed. Jesus does not allow us to be forgotten.

But, he also does not stop her from giving to a corrupt institution. He does not chastise her for wasting single drops of water on a slash and burn forest fire.

A sacrifice is a sacrifice, and it is holy.

The old woman is not the problem. If the temple were functioning as it should, she would give her money, and the temple would care for her too.

The woman is not the problem. She is not the one who needs to change.

Change will come. As Jesus walks out of the temple with his disciples, and as they admire its enormity and admire the craftsmanship, Jesus points to the stones and says, “Not one stone will be left upon another.” Sometime it’s the institution that everyone loves and respects that needs to change. The temple will come down and God will bring change where change is due. Change will come.

As for the woman, she does not need to change. She and her sacrifice are perfect as they are. They do not go unnoticed. Jesus will never let an act of sacrificial love go unnoticed, because as we see clearly on the cross, Jesus is sacrificial love.

Reflection on Revelation 21:1-6a

“The sea was no more.” Most of the time when I read this text, it is the promises of tears being wiped away and death being no more that I cling to.

That makes sense. As a pastor, you deal with a lot of death and lots of people and those you love end up gone. Believe me, there are a lot of tears behind the confident proclamations of Christ’s triumph over sin and death. The tears flow on the way home in the car, or quietly fall behind the closed door of the Pastor’s Study.

But, I am not alone in this. A lot of you have shed the same tears over and over again. Some of you have lost a great deal of family and friends, the count getting larger every year older you become.

So, yes, most of the time I cling to the promise that the Lord will wipe the tears away, and death will once and for all be vanquished through Jesus death and resurrection.

But, this time around, it is the mention of the sea that has captured me. As the writer of Revelation travels into the heavenly realm to see all that the Lord desires to show, he notices a curious thing among all of the newness of the heavens and the earth…he notices that “the sea was no more.” The sea. It is gone. Non-existent. The sea is dead. And that is seen as a good thing. That is so curious.

After-all, it is the beautiful, blue ocean that you see on the posters hanging in the AAA office. It is the crystal blue waters of the sea that call to you from the screen saver of your computer as you plunk away at work. Why would anybody rejoice that those beautiful scenes would be gone?

You know what country has a lot of shoreline? India. You know what country seems to have very few swimmers? India.

When we visited India, we and some friends on the seminary’s "Religions of India" trip took a day to go visit the shoreline. We donned our bathing suits, walked past the staring locals who were fully clothed, and we jumped into the Indian ocean for a swim.

As the locals continued to stare at us, we quickly realized why no one else in the country was enjoying the ocean. Wading in only about 15 feet, the shore under our feet began to disappear quickly, and the pull of the ocean became amazingly strong. We dug our toes into the sand to keep from being pulled out into the high, crushing waves of the Indian ocean. Swimming in the Indian Ocean is not about relaxation, it is about survival.

We survived the encounter with the sea, but as you have probably heard over the past few days, the crew of a large cargo ship did not. Steering only 65 miles from a recent hurricane, they were caught in the high, chaotic waves of the sea, and were drowned. Far from being a destination of paradise, the sea is a deadly, chaotic sea creature that seeks to devour.

And, that is exactly how people in the ancient world viewed the sea. It was viewed as a creature that creates chaos and death.

In the beginning, God tames the creature of chaos and separates the chaos from the dry land. During the Exodus, the sea creature of chaos is literally cut into two as Moses leads the people through the sea…through the chaos…on dry land. And, Jesus stands up in the boat as it is being “swamped,” raising high his arms, and brings calm to the creature of chaos.

“Swamped.”

It is no surprise then that when our lives have become completely chaotic, we use the word “swamped.” Have you felt “swamped” lately? Have you felt the chaos pulling you in so many directions, that you do not know which way to tread water? Have the waters begun to raise, the chaos of the world overtaking what little order you had made out of life?

Have tests and papers overwhelmed you as a student; your future hanging in the balance? Have the pressures of job and relationships at home begun to raise the waters over your face? Have the deaths, one upon another, upon another, upon another drawn you to focus on the chaos of the deadly waters? Or, maybe someone you know is walking toward the metaphorical beach of the Indian ocean. You can see that they are about to be in trouble, pulled in by the sea as soon as they get 15 feet into the water, pulled in by the chaos, and you feel as if there is nothing you can do.

And, when the waters of chaos threaten to cover the dry lands once again, we call out to the Lord to separate the waters from the dry land once again. "O Lord, hear my prayer! When I call, answer me!"

When my one of my best friends, "R," slipped into a dark tone of lipstick and fingernails, no longer walking down the hall of the school between classes with me, and when I saw her from a distance holding a cigarette for the first time in her life, I cried out to God that the distant future of Revelation in which chaos is destroyed once and for all might break into the world today...for her.

And, so we cry out also. Please Lord, do not wait. Allow the vision of Revelation to break into the world today! That vision where the tears are dried up, the audible cries of pain cease, and the sea is gone for good! Lord, please create some order out of the chaos and mess that we have made of this world! Please Lord, set things at peace! Allow the vision of Revelation to break into the world!

And, the vision does break in. God chooses to break into the world and take on flesh. Jesus chose to come to us, bringing healing along with him everywhere he stepped. He healed the sick, set the captive free, calmed the storm, and drew us together once more in his arms on the cross.

The new heavens and the new earth are not a distant picture…a distant projection on the screen that we can only view far away. It is a reality that bleeds into the present and makes all things new this very day.

God’s intention for the world is not to allow it to destroy itself. God’s intention is not to allow it to get so bad that we need to be rescued from it; raptured away from the evil.

No, quite the opposite. God intends to heal it, to transform it, to make all things new. God will not abandoned the world, rather God “so loved the world,” and has promised come to it, to break into it and create a kingdom that where grace pervades every corner.

So we cry out for the reality of Revelation to bleed into today. We cry out for Jesus to come to us. And, every once and a while we catch a glimpse of exactly that.

Students make it through the stress of the tests and papers, struggling people eventually find peace, and friends who have fallen away eventually send an email to let you know that everything has somehow…in some way…turned out fine in the end.

It is not perfect, of course. Ships still sink, taking their crew with them, but the world is not abandoned. Sometimes, when we look close, we see that God has allowed the vision of then to bleed into the now, and it gives us hope. We hope in a future where the sea is no more. We wear that future as a pin on our shirts, or a mark of grace on our foreheads for all to see.

Reflection on Mark 10:35-45

In the secret, in the quiet place
In the stillness You are there
In the secret, in the quiet hour
I wait only for You
Cause, I want to know You more

I want to know You
I want to hear Your voice
I want to know You more

I want to touch You
I want to see Your face
I want to know You more

- "In the Secret" by Andy Park

I am going to give James and John the benefit of the doubt here.  When they ask Jesus to grant them to sit at his right and his left hand in his glory, I am going to assume that they are not necessarily seeking power and glory for themselves.  I am simply going to assume that the desire of their hearts beat the words of the song printed above: "I want to know You more."  I assume that they want to be close with God.

I get that.  On my best days, the ones where I am not obsessing over getting an article written, or the study prepared for, or to get the groceries bought without forgetting something, I want to be close with God. 

During my college years, I had sort of a mystical understanding about this getting close to God business.  I reasoned, if Christ was the source of all life, and still is making all things new right as we speak, then if I am still enough, I will be able to feel him, touch him, be at one with him, know him more.

As a disciple of Christ, my main go-to activity therefore was meditation.  I tried to still my soul enough that I may be at one with Christ…that I may feel that eternal peace that comes only when you rest completely in Christ’s arms.  James and John, I hear you.  You want to be near Christ always, to know him more?  I think we all want that.

I had a friend also wanted to be close to God.  We worked together scraping rust off of an old Corp of Engineers steamboat.  While we scraped he talked about his desire to get closer to God. 

“If I can get closer to God,” he would say, “then God will reward me and I can get out of this rust hole.” 

We were literally back to back, scraping a tube full of rust. 

“I know that God wants the best for me.  I know that God want me to be successful in life and rich.  Can you help me know God more?”

I once made the mistake of telling my coworkers that I was going to go to seminary the following year.  You know how if you once changed the oil in the car for a friend, they assume you know how to swap out a fan belt or change a catalytic converter?  Well, this is the pastor version of that. 

There is one thing I knew for sure, I knew this guy was not going to be happy with my Lutheran church with all of our talk about the cross.  He wanted glory and reward, not sacrifice and cross bearing.  And, my church had a great, big, huge, 20 foot tall cross right in the middle of it. 

“How about you check out that church on the edge of town, you know, the one where the pastor pulls up every Sunday morning in a Ferrari.” 

Needless to say, my pastor did not own a Ferrari.

Yeah, I know, it’s easy to judge the guy, but how is his desire to know God more and get the benefit of nice things in life any different than my desire to know God more and get the benefit of peace in life.  We both want something from God.  We both come with hands open, expecting them to be filled properly.

“Teacher, we want you to do for you whatever we ask of you,” James and John ask, hands open…waiting to be filled. 

Just a quick aside, notice that Jesus first asks, “What do you want me to do for you?”   My conversations tend to go something more like this:

“Can you do something for me?”

“Sure, what do you want?”

“Good, I want you to blow up the nuclear power plant.”

"Um...well...when I said yes..."

You see what happened there.  Do not do that.  Follow Jesus’ lead and never, ever answer, “Sure” or “Yes” and afterward ask what they want.  Ask what they want first.  That is a free practical tip for you today, right from Jesus.

“What do you want?” Jesus wisely asks first. 

What did they want?  They wanted to be a part of God's glory.  They wanted to sit at the right and to the left of Jesus on his throne.  They want to be near God. 

But, they do not know what they are asking.  They just do not understand that they may want to go to the charlatan on the edge of town who drives a Ferrari because ahead of Jesus is a Great, Big Cross. 

Christ's throne of glory?  It is a cross.  And, the seats to the right and to the left…they cannot have them because they have already been taken by two criminals who will die with him.

The last will be first, and the first will be last.

Greatness, being one with God, is not defined by power and glory or even eternal peace.  Rather, it is defined by slavery. 

Slavery, or a more holy way to put it: service.  Serving those things and people that God cares about.  Serving the hungry.  Healing the mentally ill.  Caring for the children.  Loving the total mess up.  Forgiving the sinner.  Getting down and dirty with those whom most people in polite company would simply push away.  Dying for those same lowly people on a cross, that is glory.

Do you want to be close to Jesus?  Then go find him hanging out with those he cares about the most: those who are at the lowest of the low. 

That is where Jesus found me anyway.  The most defining part of my faith life was when I was at my lowest.  When I was in doubt.  I was literally balled up in the corner of the kitchen, unable to believe in a God that makes any sense, and in that moment of personal darkness, Jesus spoke to me through some scripture.  I was given the prayer from scripture that gave me hope.  The prayer goes like this, “I believe, help my unbelief.”  And, in that prayer, Jesus came, and raised me.

Searching for Jesus?  Number one, Jesus tends to find us rather than us finding him.  However, if we were to go looking I am willing to bet that Jesus, in his glory, would not be found by looking up in the glorious places. You would more likely find Jesus by looking down. 

Jesus is found where there is suffering.  No Ferrari for Jesus.  Only acts of love for lowly ones.

Reflection on Mark 10:17-31

"God alone is good."  "Follow me."

These two verses stick out from the crowd of words, waving and calling attention.  "God alone is good."  "Follow me."

Imagine that you run up to Jesus, kneeling as if in need of healing.  Healing…is that actually what you need?  Maybe?  You do not know, all you know is that this man can make things right, and things do not seem to be quite right.

“How can I be right with God?” you ask yourself.
   
Looking at Jesus you ask, “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”  And, there it is.  The healing you need...finally out of your lips.  You desire God.  You desire life.  You desire life that does not fade or rust.  You desire the good stuff.  You desire God. 

“Why do you call me good, no one is good but God alone,” Jesus replies. 

“God is good.”  Yes indeed, God is good.  That is what you have been searching for, a good God, a loving God, a God who can identify what you are missing and heal it.

Jesus redirects your attention, answering your question, sort of, “You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder; You shall not commit adultery; You shall not steal; You shall not bear false witness; You shall not defraud; Honor your father and mother.'"

You have not murdered.  You have not cheated on your spouse…there is no secret second family somewhere.  You do not steal; not even pencils.  You do not lie about others or gossip.  You work for what you have, you do not try to take it from others.  You care for your parents in their old age.  You have done it all it seems.  You are a good person.  Yet, yet, something still lacks. 

"Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth."

Jesus, looking at you, with love in his eyes says, "You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." 

He found it: the hole in your life.  He discovered the pain and offers to heal it. 

But, that cannot possibly be the right diagnosis?  You have worked hard for all that you have.  You have never felt entitled to anything.  You have never sought to steal any of it.  Give it away?  What is wrong with having it?  Surely there is nothing wrong with having the finer things in life, is there? 

What would it be like to give it all away?  What if you gave it away and then needed it later?  Then what?

The fact that you are obsessing over a pile of stuff, struggling to even conceive of letting it go reveals for the first time just how sick you are.  You have kept all of the secondary commandments, but have forgotten about the first, to love the Lord your God and trust God alone. 

Of course it is illogical to trust stuff, but we do.  Why is it so hard to part with it?  The reason is not hard to discover.

This weekend, I had a chance to see my brother and his family in DC.  And, while sitting in our hotel room, I started playing with my niece and nephews.  We did not have any toys, but there was that free pad of paper on the table. 

So, I took a sheet of the paper, folded it into a paper airplane, threw it at the kids, and they began to laugh and play.  They figured out a way to take turns with the only toy in the room, and they were laughing together, throwing it and chasing it. 

Paper airplanes are a cheap toy, and there was no real reason that they needed to share, so I made another, and another.  That way they would not have to worry about figuring out whose turn was next.  In fact, I just sat there and kept making the airplanes out of the whole pad of paper, about 20 planes from the cheap little pad. 

But, as I was making more and more, something curious happened.  The playing and laughter had stopped.  Instead of running around the rooms, throwing flying planes at each other, they had begun to collect them and stash them away, like prized possessions.  One had a stash by the pillows on the bed, another, a stash under the table.  The youngest was not old enough to know how to protect his property, so he had none. 

Instantly, the children had gone from playing and sharing, when they had one, to protecting their possessions when they had many to share. 

Ah…but, the possessions were theirs.  They had rightfully collected them because they were the fastest and most clever person.  They had worked hard for their stash, and they needed to protect them.  Of course, the youngest...the weakest...was not entitled to any.  I am certain he would learn in time how to collect and stash, just not today.

By now you have noticed that in the end none of the airplanes were used for their intended purpose, flying and laughing and playing.  The children also were no longer fulfilling their intended purpose either, to have fun with each other. 

The abundance of planes had started to control their actions and their beliefs.  And, in the end one of the children was left out.  The abundance of planes had led them to forget to love.

Things do not lead us to love.  Things do not lead us to do good.  Things lead us to sin. 

And, the two phrases stick out clearly once again, “God alone is good.”  “Follow me.” 

No one is good but God.  No one gives life like God.  No one loves like God.  Only God can be trusted completely. 

Jesus looks at us with love, sees how attached we are to our things and says, “You want to be healed?  Share your wealth with those who have nothing.  Trust me.  I love you and will never forget you.  Follow me.”

The young man went away grieving, for he had many things. 

It seems that too much has been asked of him.  Maybe it has and there is no hope that he will trust God.  Except, one word does not allow me to write him off completely: “grief.”  He went away grieving. 

Grief only happens when you begin to let go.  Grieving happens when you can no longer have what you formerly loved.  Grief happens when someone dies.  Grief happens when your favorite car gets smashed.  Grief happens when what you have will soon be gone. 

Maybe, just maybe, Jesus has healed him and the man has taken his first step in letting go.  Maybe, just maybe, the man has taken his first step in trusting that God is good.  Maybe, just maybe, he will be able to follow.  Maybe.

And, Jesus looks with love upon us, because God alone is good.  Faith drives us to let go of all those things that control our lives.  “Give them to those with none, and come, follow me,” Jesus says.  “God alone is good,” he promises.  “Follow me.”

Reflection on Mark 10:2-16

If you have been through a divorce yourself, or have experienced one as a child, or as a friend or family member, there is one thing that I do not need to do for you in this post.  I do not need to go on and on about the pain that occurs when the one flesh is ripped back into two.   

You all know the pain of divorce, way too well.  No one reading this needs to hear yet another sermon about the sinful nature of divorce, or the destruction that divorce causes.  No one reading this needs me to add to the pain by being self-righteous and preachy.  I have no desire to add to your pain this morning.  You already know…you already know.

It’s easy to hurt people while talking about divorce because religious discussions about divorce tend to be very abstract.  “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?”  And, then we can discuss, as if it were theoretical, whether or not Moses allows it, and in what circumstances it is allowed.  Can you divorce your wife for not cooking well?  Maybe, you can only divorce if she is unfaithful?  Maybe divorce is fine and the real problem is remarriage.  You can divorce, you just can’t remarry.   

But, in all of the theoretical, heady, banter back and forth we forget one important thing: real people in really complicated situations are involved in divorce.  There is nothing worse than a theoretical discussion that forgets about the people.

The people.  Did you know that the one of the highest demographics of the working poor are single mothers with children who are just trying to get by after a divorce?  I do not think it is right to cast a dispersion on the vulnerable.   

Did you know that most divorces are not mutually agreed upon?  Rather, one of the two people is left feeling like their spouse has just died…trying their hardest to hold together something that is falling apart everywhere like a handful of wet noodles.  Again, I do not think it is right to cast a dispersion on the vulnerable.  Then, there is the cheating and the drinking and the…well, you know…you know.  There will be no rocks thrown here.  Divorce leaves a person quite vulnerable as it is.

The vulnerable.

Do you know who is vulnerable?  Children.  Children are vulnerable.  They have no power in any adult decisions.  They cannot sign legal contracts.  They cannot enter unless invited.  They are told not to speak unless spoken to.  Children have no say if their world in turned up-side-down.  They have to go where they are led, even if it is into a deep, dark pit.  Children are truly vulnerable. 

And no, I am not going where you think I am.  You already know the effect that divorce has on children.  You already know.  I am not here to pile on even more guilt.  I was not going there. 

 
What I did want to mention is that Jesus welcomes the children.  In a world where they have no power and they are shooed away by the disciples as unimportant, Jesus rebukes the disciples and welcomes the children.  Jesus draws them near.  He takes them into his arms and holds them close.  Jesus snuggles the vulnerable.  The kingdom of God is for the vulnerable.

And, that is what I want you to hear today.  To those single parents who have struggled, counting pennies because of their divorce I have one thing to say to you: the kingdom of God is for you, the vulnerable.   

To those who yearn to have things the way they were back at the beginning of the relationship…when you truly felt as if the two had become one flesh…to those grieving that loss, I have one thing to say to you: the kingdom of God is for you, the vulnerable. 

 
The entire reason that Jesus is against the one flesh becoming two again in the first place, is because it brings harm to the vulnerable.  Women and children in the ancient world were abandoned, without support, when divorce occurred.   

Jesus understands that place in life.  The image of Jesus on the cross is at the same time one of complete vulnerability…identifying with the vulnerable...and arms wide open embracing all.  Jesus is about drawing all of creation together, not tearing it apart.  Jesus is about protecting the vulnerable, not creating more.  As you already know, divorce does not draw together.

I know of a Christian man named Christian ironically, who filed for divorce.  He and his wife had not been happy for years, and the kids knew it.  He was a working dad and she was a stay at home mom, and over the years they simply drifted apart, until they were two quite different people than they were from the start.  Christian thought to himself that it clearly was not fair to keep his wife trapped in a loveless marriage, but he just could not imagine a good future for his wife and kids alone.   

Then, one night, while tossing and turning on the couch in the office, the idea came to him.  The next day, he went into his shop, grabbed some tools, took his Saws-All, and started cutting a door into the side of his house, right into the office.  The office, which was practically already his bedroom anyway, would become his apartment.  He could still pay for the house and food and be there for his kids, but he didn’t have to remain married to his wife.  He and his wife could both have their own lives, but in this way, he would protect her and the kids from being abandoned and vulnerable.  And, the idea worked.  The two were no longer one flesh, but no one was left vulnerable. 

Of course, I do not intend for this example to cause guilt either.  I know that in many circumstances such a solution would have been impossible.  Do not worry.  The kingdom belongs to the vulnerable.  The only reason I tell Christian’s story is because his primary concern lined up so well with that of Jesus.  He cared enough for his wife and children that they might not become sad statistics of divorce.  He cared about the vulnerable, and he did something about it. 

I know of one other guy who cared about the vulnerable, and then did something about it.  Seeing the pain that happens when people are ripped apart from sin and strife, he went to the cross, was stripped of his clothes, was abandoned and alone.  He joined in the pain of the sinful and vulnerable and spread wide his arms for all.  Drawing the world back together through forgiveness and new life, Jesus took care of the vulnerable.  “Let the little children come to me.”  And, that includes the vulnerable who have suffered from divorce.

Reflection on John 17:1-11

When I was young, I was great at praying.  I would talk to God while I was flying my spaceship…I mean, riding my bike around the farm.  I would talk to God while I was climbing the rocky ridges and steep cliffs of Mount Everest…I mean small apple tree in our yard.  I was even told that I was once heard praying, of all places, while on the toilet.  It did not matter where I was, at home or at school, standing or lying; I was talking to God.  The mention of praying at school reminds me of the truth: that prayer will never leave our public schools as long as tests remain.  You know how that pre-test prayer goes:

“Lord, even though I didn’t study, and Lord, even though I copied half of the answers to my math problems from the back of the book, and Lord, even though I stared at my eraser for 45 minutes straight rather than doing my homework the other night, please…please let me do good on this test so that my parent don’t yell at me.  Because, you, O Lord, would never want disruption in my family.  So, for the sake of peace in my family…heck, for the sake of peace in the world, let me do good on this test.”

I was a great talker to God.  I was great at praying.  I would share whatever was on my mind.  I would share whatever concern arose, as soon as it arose.  I truly believed that Jesus was right there, standing next to me, ready to hear my prayer.  And, Jesus was.

And, then it stopped.  Somewhere between my freshman years of high school and college, the praying slowly tapered off and disappeared.  This fact occurred to me as I sat at a church function one Sunday afternoon, and was paralyzed when the pastor asked me out of the blue to pray for the group.  How many of you would be paralyzed right now if you were asked the same?  How does that gift of prayer get lost?

I am actually not certain, but I do have an idea.  You see, I never understood all of that talking to God as prayer.  Prayers, I thought, were well crafted narrative pieces that professionals, the pastor, spoke in an official capacity.  What I did?  Well, I never really thought about what I did as prayer.  That was just talking.

Not only did I think that I had no clue how to pray, I also feared that I may pray the wrong thing in prayer.  Now, I obviously did not have a problem with saying all the wrong things to God in a conversation about upcoming tests.  But, to selfishly ask God to help me on a doomed test in an official "prayer" I feared would be quite…well…wrong.  What if I prayed the wrong thing?

Then, of course, there is that whole "everyone is listening to me" component of public prayer, which really should not matter because everyone else is just glad that they were not the ones called upon to pray in public.  Most people are happy with anything you say because they are not the ones doing it.  That is the truth.

All of these doubts about prayer culminated in one climactic episode in which I stood alone, as a pastor in training, in the room of a woman on a ventilator who had no brain function, who would exist, but not actually live, for another 14 years.  While I stood, staring at her, I asked, “What’s the point?” and I simply walked away.

I did have enough courage to share this new prayer low with my pastoral supervisor, a calm, sweater vested nun, who said, “Why didn’t you just pray that then?” 

“Pray what I asked?”

“Why didn’t you just say to God, ‘What’s the point?’  That sounds like a fine thing to ask Jesus.  It seems that only Jesus would know how to address that situation appropriately.”

That was the turning point on prayer for me.  It was at that moment that I thought back to my childhood and realized that I have known how to pray all along.  Just talk to God.  And, over the years it has come back, little by little.  And, with that coming back I find encouragement along the way.  Like this prayer from Jesus found in John 17.  I find lots of encouragement in it.

Number one, it is the most rambling, repetitive prayer in the existence of prayers.  I am not saying that there is not anything important in there.  There is lots of important stuff in there, but the form of the prayer is horrible.  Thank you Jesus for praying this horribly rambling prayer.  Really, I mean it, thank you.  It means a lot to someone who prays terribly.

Number two, I find encouragement in the fact that Jesus does know what to pray for.  He prays that all find their life in God and that all may be one with God, and one with each other.  In other words, he prays his great commandment, that we love God and love one another.  This is a theologically sound prayer.  He prays it exactly the right way.  

How exactly do I, someone who prays for selfish things, find comfort in this?  Simple, I know Jesus walks beside me, and will pray the correct prayer for me, even though my own falls desperately short.  So, when I pray, “Lord,…insert name here…really hurt me, so show me some justice that may they feel the roasting fires of a low, low place on their toes very soon,” I know that Jesus will take that prayer and transform it.  Jesus will pray something more like, “Father, your child is hurt, give him the gift of forgiveness that…insert name…and he may come together again and be one in peace as we are one in peace.” 

We do not pray the correct prayers.  None of us pray the correct prayers.  But, that is of no matter.  Jesus prays the ones that should have come from our lips.  As a result, we may not get the result that we wanted from our own prayer, but we will get the correct one because of Jesus.  It is OK to pray a terrible prayer, because it will be transformed.  Feel free to just pray whatever is on your heart and mind.

There is one child whose meal payers I just love.  “Lord, thank you for the food, and for my friends here, and that there won’t be any aliens who come and kill us, Amen.”  That, my dear friends, is the perfect prayer.  After-all, who wants to be killed by aliens!  It is free from constraint.  It is honest.  It is a conversation.  If only our prayers as adults could be so honest.

For those of us who struggle to pray with such freedom, why not try something?  Why not let Jesus pray for us, as he does in John 17?  Why not take time right now to mention one thing that you want Jesus to pray about?  Is what you desire to pray about right or wrong?  It does not matter.  Let Jesus pray the right prayer for you.  Take a moment right now to simply mention to Jesus one thing that you want Jesus to hold up for you in prayer today.