But what is prayer, really? Prayer, like anything else in the practice of our faith, can easily be distorted. Often we think of prayer as getting something we hoped for ourselves. As Janice Joplin, sang, "O Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz…" Well, if we’re honest, quite a few of our prayers are in that category. We have our wants and needs, and by gum, they had better be met! We tell ourselves that because we are living at least a halfway righteous life, or that we’re trying to, we deserve something. God owes us a favor. And every once in a while, lo and behold, it seems we do get what we want. As a result, many overly enthusiastic books have been written about the phenomenon of answered prayers.
But there is another way we may distort prayer, and also operate from a position of power. Several times in my ministry I have been told in a cold, hard-faced way by righteous, perhaps self-righteous members of the church, "We are praying for you, pastor." Why do I not feel good when I hear that? Because they are not trying to pray for me in my deepest hurts and needs, but only praying, if they even are praying, that I will become what they think I should be! Why do these pious ones feel so comfortable with judging me and others? Could it be that they trust their own outward goodness and decent life-style so much they have never felt a need to ask God for mercy?
Now of course there is absolutely nothing wrong with the desire to live a decent, moral life. But when people start depending on their own version of decency, and see no need for the mercy of God, their relationship with God and others begins to warp in the way that Jesus said: "Anyone who has been forgiven for only a little will show only a little love, " In a powerful sermon on our gospel story of the woman weeping at Jesus’ feet, the great theologian Paul Tillich described the attitude of the righteous:
The righteousness of the righteous ones is hard and self-assured. They, too, want forgiveness, but they believe that they do not need much of it. And so their righteous actions are warmed by very little love. They could not have helped the woman in our story, and they cannot help us, even if we admire them. Why do children turn from their righteous parents and husbands from their righteous wives, and vice versa? Why do Christians turn away from their righteous pastors?…Why do many turn away from righteous Christianity and from the Jesus it paints and the God it proclaims? Why do they turn to those who are not considered to be the righteous ones? Often, certainly, it is because they want to escape judgment. But more often it is because they seek a love which is rooted in forgiveness, and this the righteous ones cannot give. [sermon on Luke 7:36-47 by Paul Tillich. Chapter 1 from The New Being (1955). At Religion On-Line.]Turns out, then, that the gospel story of the woman, the Pharisee Simon, and Jesus is really a prayer story. In terms of the social mores of her day, the sinful woman who wept at Jesus feet and wiped them with her hair, had put herself at great risk, and yet none of that mattered. Something powerful and life-changing had already happened between her and God for her, in a burst of daring, to throw herself at Jesus’ feet in tearful gratitude. Real prayer is getting real enough about ourselves to enter into a real relationship with God.
In my work as Pastor, nothing brings me greater joy that to welcome and guide into the life of Christ a truly broken sinner. All the other stuff I am involved in as a pastor, all the reading, planning, all the meetings, the worship, all is well and good, but nothing compares to the holy, sacred moment when someone, perhaps looking for all the world like a successful person, has hit bottom, and in desperation, seeks help finding a gracious God. Actually, I believe that when someone comes for spiritual direction, God has already found them. But now, with the game-playing over with, and the blaming of others ended, it is evident that true prayer as an honest, real relationship with God has already begun—and with prayer like that, anything is possible!
Such an attitude forms the foundation for the kind of prayer our world desperately needs: intercessory prayer, the prayers known also as the "prayers of the faithful". I am speaking of our prayers as voicing to and with God a deep and humble compassion for others—a compassion we will have as a gift from God because, have been broken ourselves, we know the power of God’s forgiveness and acceptance. This is what Flora Wuellner, a gifted spiritual director and author was thinking of when she wrote, "We must remember when praying for another that prayer is not merely an emotional state of mind but an actual force, a power which is being let loose into the world through us." Flora Wuellner, Prayer and the Living Christ, pg 111
Letting loose good power in the world—that’s the idea of prayer of the Intercessory Prayer Team Intern Smith has been working on forming. We are envisioning a group of caring people meeting weekly to prayer of the needs of people that come to our attention through prayer requests phoned in or entered in a prayer journal in which for worshippers will be encouraged to write requests for prayer. To feel called to prayer does not mean being a prayer expert. It does mean having some experience in knowing without God we are powerless to accomplish anything truly good for ourselves or for others. I invite you to talk to Intern Smith about this prayer team.
To quote Tillich again, "The Church would be more the Church of Christ … if it joined Jesus and not Simon in its encounter with those who are rightly judged unacceptable. Each of us who strives for righteousness would be more Christian if more were forgiven [us], if [we] loved more and if [we] could better resist the temptation to present [ourselves] as acceptable to God by [our] own righteousness." Ibid, Tillich. I think Tillich was calling for the Church—for us—to be real.
The truth is, those who know they’ve been forgiven much, will also love much. And thus real prayer—honest prayer!—becomes what I would call, lived prayer. Lived prayer is God’s people following Jesus, trying to make a difference in the world, as he did: accepting the unacceptable.
Accepting the unacceptable. At the Synod Assembly this week faith testimonies were given by certain leaders of our synod. The last was a powerful story a woman told about her experience of being dragged kicking and screaming into the dimension of God’s grace.
She and her husband had decided to show support to their pastor, who had planned a healing service for the comfort of AIDS patients. So they attended the service—a well-attended service and a beautiful one at that, she said. Midway through the service she became aware of a fine bass voice singing behind her. She turned around for a quick glance to see who this singer was, and she said, her stomach leaped into her throat. For the young man behind her was ravaged with Kaposi’s sarcoma, one of the end results of AIDS. She hoped he hadn’t seen her shocked look. She had been totally repulsed by his appearance. Then, to her horror she saw the next item in the liturgy was the sharing of the peace. She knew there was no way she was going to do that. So she bolted from her pew as soon as the hymn was over and went to the back of the sanctuary where she saw some (safe) people she knew.
After the service, serving lemonade to attendees out in the church courtyard she heard a voice behind her say, "Hello, may I talk with you for a moment?" She turned around, and yes, it was the same young man she heard singing in church. And he said, "You remind so much of my mother in North Dakota who doesn’t want anything to do with me these days. Could I hug you?" And you know what happened. They hugged, and in the moment, everything changed for this woman. She knew then that, in a very real way, this ravaged, lonely man was her son. And so were the many others young men around her. In accepting the unacceptable, she moved deeper into the kind of life Christ calls us to. She had met and embraced Christ in the form of that dying young man.
Accepting the unacceptable. Forgiveness for all! That kind of lived prayer can change lives and it can change the world—and often has. Amen.