The film “Chocolat” tells the poignant story of Vianne, a single mother, who arrives during Lent in 1959 in a rigidly traditional French village. Despite the villagers’ commitment to Lenten fasting and self-denial, Vianne, a chocolatier, sets up a small shop and begins to introduce the villagers to the delights of chocolate. During the course of the story, Vianne befriends the wife of a brutal alcoholic, welcomes a group of river gypsies who camp nearby, endures the hostility of the mayor, and faces down the alcoholic husband when he threatens to destroy her shop. Towards the end of the film, as Easter approaches, Vianne resolves to leave the village. However, when a group of villagers shares with her their gratitude for her generosity and open heart, she changes her mind. As if affirming her decision, in his Easter sermon, the young priest Pere Henri tells the villagers, “ I want to talk about Christ’s humanity, I mean how he lived his life on earth: his kindness, his tolerance. We must measure our goodness, not by what we resist, or whom we exclude. Instead, we should measure ourselves by what we embrace, what we create, and whom we include.”
“Whom we include.” We are coming to the end of Easter tide. The feast of the Ascension this past Thursday reminded us that Jesus, while no longer physically present to us, is now present to us in a way that transcends time and space. Pentecost, when we joyously celebrate God’s gift of the Holy Spirit, is still ahead of us. During this Easter tide, in our Scripture readings we have been pondering all the ways in which Christ’s resurrection makes a difference in our lives. Today, in our reading from John’s gospel, we hear Jesus’ very last words to us before his acceptance of crucifixion and death. Having washed his friends’ feet and eaten dinner with them, Jesus has instructed them about how to continue their lives together without him. He has given them his peace, he has commanded them to love each other as he has loved them, and he has reminded them that he is the vine, and they are the branches. Now he concludes his after dinner speech with a prayer: a prayer for them, and through them, for every community of disciples that will come into being after his resurrection.
In this prayer Jesus is no longer speaking with his friends. He is not commanding them to do anything. Indeed, he has already given them a new commandment. Here Jesus is in communion with his Father, and he is expressing to his Father his deepest desires for his friends and, by extension, for us. If you read all of Jesus’ prayer in chapter 17 of John’s gospel, you may find it convoluted and hard to follow. Although Jesus seems to be circling around his requests, at least one of Jesus’ requests to God on behalf of his friends stands out clearly: that “they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may be completely one….”
What is this oneness for which Jesus prays on our behalf? I believe that we can think about this oneness along three dimensions: oneness with God, oneness with each other, and oneness in service to the world. It’s almost like the sign of the Cross, isn’t it? As Jesus’ friends, as members of his Body, we are already in this life united with God. Oneness with God is not something we strive for, it is something we already have. We can begin to experience this oneness with God in our own personal prayer time. As we sit in stillness, waiting in silence on God, as we voice to God our deepest aspirations for those we care about, as we share with God our grief and frustrations, as we ponder our day and thank God for God’s gifts to us, God may grace us with a sense of union with God, and we may know more surely that we are and have never been anything but God’s beloved children.
We appropriate even more surely our oneness with God when we approach God together with our fellow disciples. Deepening our own personal relationship with Jesus is certainly an important part of maturing as disciples. Yet our personal relationship with God is never the end of Christian life. The Christian life is never solely about “me and sweet Jesus.” We have been baptized into Christ’s Body. As members of Christ’s Body, we are also called to pray and worship together. Believe it or not, even silent prayer is deeper and richer when done together with others in a praying community. As members of the Episcopal Church we are especially called to corporate worship, as we pray from a book of common prayer, a book intended for all. Figuratively, if not literally, as Anglicans we stand around the table together. We know that whatever divides us, together we worship God. And we sense more deeply our oneness with God as all of us together partake of the one bread and drink from the one cup.
The second dimension of oneness Jesus prays that we will experience is oneness with each other. It is ironic – or perhaps prescient – that the writer of John’s gospel should have Jesus offer this prayer, as the community to which John was writing was deeply divided. Nevertheless, here Jesus prays that we will recognize, as members of Christ’s Body, our fundamental oneness with each other. On the parish level, we understand ourselves to be part of a community that supports its members both spiritually and pastorally and whose invitation is open to all. Indeed, a parish our size cannot afford the luxury of conflict and schism, but, rather, is called to graciously include all who come through the red doors – or even the glass doors. Our Common Ministry team has recognized our desire to live into our oneness as a community. For that reason, the team has surveyed our gifts and strengths as a parish, begun the Second Sunday potlucks, and suggested a gala celebration next week for Pentecost.
Our oneness with fellow disciples extends beyond the parish. As Episcopalians we are also part of a diocese, the Diocese of Southern Ohio, which is made up of 25,000 people who attend eighty different parishes in the southern half of the state. This past Wednesday we received a powerful reminder of our oneness with the rest of the diocese, as representatives from five parishes from different parts of the diocese gathered to induct new members of the Society of St. Simeon and St. Anna, including our own Alice and Jimmy Salyer. We are also members of the wider Episcopal Church in the United States. Last month, I was graced to experience our ties to the Church of the Resurrection, the parish on Long Island that has been adding children’s clothes and equipment to our diaper distribution program. Through our ecumenical efforts here at home and through the Anglican Communion, the World Council of Churches, and other church bodies, we are reminded of our oneness with all our sisters and brothers in Christ. Our oneness with fellow Christians even transcends time and space, as we know ourselves to be surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, fellow disciples in the communion of saints, who have gone before us as members of Christ’s Body.
Finally, in his great priestly prayer, Jesus prays that we will experience oneness with those whom we serve, those to whom we give sacrificially of ourselves, as he gave himself for us. When we are at our best, we experience that sense of oneness with those whom we serve at the Loaves and Fishes dinner. We don’t just tolerate our diners. We don’t just welcome them. We invite them, and we embrace them as God’s children, sisters and brothers for whom Christ died, sisters and brothers who are as beloved of God as we are. We are also at one with those whom we serve farther away. When Hurricane Sandy destroyed homes, businesses, and churches six months ago, many dioceses and individual parishes understood their oneness with east coast communities and stepped in with aid. The Episcopal dioceses of Easton, New Jersey, Newark, New York, and Long Island are among those who are even now generously helping impacted communities recover from the devastation. As many of you know well, our oneness with our fellow human beings extends well beyond our borders. Our care and concern for others transcends lines of faith communities and ultimately national boundaries. In the Episcopal Church, for example, the diocese of Atlanta has played a major part in the fight against malaria, both historically in the United States and now as a major force in the Nets for Life Inspiration Fund, the church-wide, grassroots effort of Episcopal Relief and Development to raise awareness and support for malaria prevention.
“We’re all just walking each other home,” says American spiritual teacher Ram Dass. As we go, Jesus prays that we will turn no one away, and that we will walk hand in hand, one with God, one with each other, and one in service to all who need our love and care.
Showing posts with label Seventh Sunday of Easter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Seventh Sunday of Easter. Show all posts
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Sunday, May 20, 2012
They Prayed
Jesus was gone! The forty days since the disciples had realized that he was alive again, after his crucifixion, had gone by so fast. Luke tells us that Jesus had spent most of those forty days preparing the disciples to carry on his mission. Jesus reminded them that he couldn’t stay with them forever, and that he would empower them for mission by sending them the Holy Spirit. Even so, the disciples weren’t prepared for what happened in Bethany that day: Jesus just disappeared from sight. Even though two angels told them Jesus had at last returned to heaven, and that he would eventually come back, they were still confused. Jesus was gone! What would happen next?
We recognize the end of Jesus’ earthly ministry and his return to heaven on Ascension Day, always forty days after Easter, and therefore always on a Thursday. Ascension Day was, and really still is, a major feast in the church. In some parishes, it’s still a day for a festal Eucharist and, often, a potluck feast. Now, though, Ascension Day is usually passed over or commemorated on the following Sunday.
Certainly it’s important to remember Ascension Day. Even though the whole idea of Jesus’ ascension into heaven is hard to grasp, the Ascension is a core part of our faith. Indeed, we continue to affirm its importance every time we repeat the Nicene or Apostles’ Creed. Even so, there’s also a good reason to keep this Sunday as the Seventh Sunday of Easter, as the middle of a special time between Ascension Day and Pentecost. We need to pay attention to where Jesus’ disciples were – and we are – in this in-between time. For this was a time of uncertainty for Jesus’ first followers. They had absorbed his teaching, and they had experienced his departure. Now they were back in Jerusalem, waiting for the fulfillment of his promise, the coming of the Holy Spirit. There were actually quite a few of them. The verses preceding the ones we’ve heard this morning remind us that the remaining eleven of the original twelve, minus Judas, several women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, Jesus’ brothers, and many other disciples had come together in Jerusalem. Indeed, as we heard, there were altogether “120 believers” waiting for the beginning of the next act, waiting to be empowered by the Holy Spirit and sent out to carry on Jesus’ mission. We might wonder where indeed they actually were. Do you remember the Adam Hamilton DVD? Perhaps they were all gathered in that huge upper room. They knew they were in a time of transition, and so they patiently waited – together.
Aren’t we at St. Peter’s in a similar time of uncertainty and waiting, a similar time of transition? In some ways, the church is always in a time of transition, as we live in that “middle time” between Jesus’ resurrection and his return, and as the secular culture continues to change around us. And, of course, liturgically we are in a transition time. During this Easter tide we too have again been instructed as to the meaning of resurrection, and we too look forward to being infused anew with the gifts of the Spirit. However, I think that we are in a time of transition as a parish too. This parish has seen much change in the last two decades, even in the last few years. Clergy leadership has changed several times, many key lay leaders are gone, some to death, some to relocation, much of the next generation is gone too, and even with part-time clergy leadership, the budget is not balanced. And yet, aren’t there also signs of new life among us? For one thing, we’re still here! Plus, in the past year, we’ve been blessed with two new families. Even so, we too might be wondering: what’s next?
Perhaps there are some clues in that upper room. Let’s go back upstairs and take a closer look at what happened there. The first thing we notice is that, as the disciples were waiting, they came together. Although they had scattered when Jesus was arrested and executed, in this time of uncertainty, they supported and took care of each other. They devoted themselves to in-reach, staying together, studying Scripture, and teaching each other. More important, they prayed. We learn from the verse before the beginning of our lection, that “they were constantly devoting themselves to prayer.” Then, the disciples took stock of themselves. They looked at who they were, and what gifts and skills they had. They discerned who was missing, and they understood that it was important to replace Judas among the inner core of apostles. Then they prayed some more, they “cast lots,” perhaps they threw dice or flipped a coin, and they asked God to show them what God’s will was for them. We may raise our eyebrows at the “casting of lots” part, but, rest assured, that was a common practice in the ancient world for discerning God’s will. Finally, having done their best, the disciples accepted the outcome of their process and appointed Matthias as Judas’s replacement. Did the other man, Joseph Barsabbas harbor any resentment at not being chosen? The account in Acts doesn’t record any. Indeed, the New Testament says nothing more about the lives of either man.
If we come back down from the upper room and look at ourselves, are we still grieving the loss of old friends and old ways of being church? Are we wondering whether there are ministries “out there,” we need to look at? Are there ways to strengthen our internal life that we need to pursue? Those of us engaged in the Common Ministry process see it as a way of renewal for St. Peter’s. However, as we work at that process, learn new tools, and set out on the new paths to which Jesus might be leading us, we still might take a page out of the earliest disciples’ playbook. Like them, we can support and care for each other. We can gather together and pray for ourselves, for each other, and for this parish. We can discover how to listen more attentively to God. Some of us are celebrating the Eucharist and learning more about prayer on Wednesday evenings. Come and be part of the gathered ones. Secondly, we can take stock of who we are. At the Common Ministry meeting in March, the team made a preliminary scan of the talents and skills in this parish. We are an immensely talented group! I invite you to join the process on June 3rd, when we will take a closer look at all our many spiritual gifts. You don’t think you have any spiritual gifts? Believe me, we all do. We simply need to discern what they are, and where we can exercise them. We can discern too who is missing from our parish. We began to consider that question last week, and we can continue discerning who else should be in our midst.
Like the disciples we can then offer our needs up to God in prayer. All of our work as a parish is grounded in prayer. We remind ourselves of the need for prayer when we open our Vestry meetings or other important gatherings with prayer. We can also pray for specific aspects of our parish life. We can pray for our ministries. I invite you to support and pray for our young people, our worship life, our diaper ministry, and Loaves and Fishes. I invite you to pray for those who are here. A couple of weeks ago, I asked you to look around, choose a person here, and pray for that person during the week. I invite you to do that again this week. And we can pray for those who are not here. Can you pray for and then invite here those who are missing? And here’s something else you can do. Last summer, we were blessed to welcome two new families into our parish. I am now praying that two more new families will join us this year. Will you join me in that prayer?
There’s an old hymn that some of you may know, “Are ye able?” The fourth verse and refrain of it go like this:
Are ye able? Still the Master
whispers down eternity,
and heroic spirits answer,
now as then in Galilee.
Lord, we are able. Our spirits are thine.
Remold them, make us, like thee, divine.
Thy guiding radiance above us shall be
a beacon to God, to love, and loyalty.
We are able. We are able, because we know that Jesus has been praying for his followers since the night before he died for them, and is praying for us still. We are able, because we know that, just as he promised to his first friends, he still promises to us, that he will empower us with the Holy Spirit, and that he will strengthen us a community able and willing to reach out to others. As we look towards Pentecost, we join our prayers with his. Come, Holy Spirit, come to us in this time and place. Come to us when we sit in silence and when we are moving too fast. Surprise us, revive us, and shape us into the Body of Christ. Amen.
We recognize the end of Jesus’ earthly ministry and his return to heaven on Ascension Day, always forty days after Easter, and therefore always on a Thursday. Ascension Day was, and really still is, a major feast in the church. In some parishes, it’s still a day for a festal Eucharist and, often, a potluck feast. Now, though, Ascension Day is usually passed over or commemorated on the following Sunday.
Certainly it’s important to remember Ascension Day. Even though the whole idea of Jesus’ ascension into heaven is hard to grasp, the Ascension is a core part of our faith. Indeed, we continue to affirm its importance every time we repeat the Nicene or Apostles’ Creed. Even so, there’s also a good reason to keep this Sunday as the Seventh Sunday of Easter, as the middle of a special time between Ascension Day and Pentecost. We need to pay attention to where Jesus’ disciples were – and we are – in this in-between time. For this was a time of uncertainty for Jesus’ first followers. They had absorbed his teaching, and they had experienced his departure. Now they were back in Jerusalem, waiting for the fulfillment of his promise, the coming of the Holy Spirit. There were actually quite a few of them. The verses preceding the ones we’ve heard this morning remind us that the remaining eleven of the original twelve, minus Judas, several women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, Jesus’ brothers, and many other disciples had come together in Jerusalem. Indeed, as we heard, there were altogether “120 believers” waiting for the beginning of the next act, waiting to be empowered by the Holy Spirit and sent out to carry on Jesus’ mission. We might wonder where indeed they actually were. Do you remember the Adam Hamilton DVD? Perhaps they were all gathered in that huge upper room. They knew they were in a time of transition, and so they patiently waited – together.
Aren’t we at St. Peter’s in a similar time of uncertainty and waiting, a similar time of transition? In some ways, the church is always in a time of transition, as we live in that “middle time” between Jesus’ resurrection and his return, and as the secular culture continues to change around us. And, of course, liturgically we are in a transition time. During this Easter tide we too have again been instructed as to the meaning of resurrection, and we too look forward to being infused anew with the gifts of the Spirit. However, I think that we are in a time of transition as a parish too. This parish has seen much change in the last two decades, even in the last few years. Clergy leadership has changed several times, many key lay leaders are gone, some to death, some to relocation, much of the next generation is gone too, and even with part-time clergy leadership, the budget is not balanced. And yet, aren’t there also signs of new life among us? For one thing, we’re still here! Plus, in the past year, we’ve been blessed with two new families. Even so, we too might be wondering: what’s next?
Perhaps there are some clues in that upper room. Let’s go back upstairs and take a closer look at what happened there. The first thing we notice is that, as the disciples were waiting, they came together. Although they had scattered when Jesus was arrested and executed, in this time of uncertainty, they supported and took care of each other. They devoted themselves to in-reach, staying together, studying Scripture, and teaching each other. More important, they prayed. We learn from the verse before the beginning of our lection, that “they were constantly devoting themselves to prayer.” Then, the disciples took stock of themselves. They looked at who they were, and what gifts and skills they had. They discerned who was missing, and they understood that it was important to replace Judas among the inner core of apostles. Then they prayed some more, they “cast lots,” perhaps they threw dice or flipped a coin, and they asked God to show them what God’s will was for them. We may raise our eyebrows at the “casting of lots” part, but, rest assured, that was a common practice in the ancient world for discerning God’s will. Finally, having done their best, the disciples accepted the outcome of their process and appointed Matthias as Judas’s replacement. Did the other man, Joseph Barsabbas harbor any resentment at not being chosen? The account in Acts doesn’t record any. Indeed, the New Testament says nothing more about the lives of either man.
If we come back down from the upper room and look at ourselves, are we still grieving the loss of old friends and old ways of being church? Are we wondering whether there are ministries “out there,” we need to look at? Are there ways to strengthen our internal life that we need to pursue? Those of us engaged in the Common Ministry process see it as a way of renewal for St. Peter’s. However, as we work at that process, learn new tools, and set out on the new paths to which Jesus might be leading us, we still might take a page out of the earliest disciples’ playbook. Like them, we can support and care for each other. We can gather together and pray for ourselves, for each other, and for this parish. We can discover how to listen more attentively to God. Some of us are celebrating the Eucharist and learning more about prayer on Wednesday evenings. Come and be part of the gathered ones. Secondly, we can take stock of who we are. At the Common Ministry meeting in March, the team made a preliminary scan of the talents and skills in this parish. We are an immensely talented group! I invite you to join the process on June 3rd, when we will take a closer look at all our many spiritual gifts. You don’t think you have any spiritual gifts? Believe me, we all do. We simply need to discern what they are, and where we can exercise them. We can discern too who is missing from our parish. We began to consider that question last week, and we can continue discerning who else should be in our midst.
Like the disciples we can then offer our needs up to God in prayer. All of our work as a parish is grounded in prayer. We remind ourselves of the need for prayer when we open our Vestry meetings or other important gatherings with prayer. We can also pray for specific aspects of our parish life. We can pray for our ministries. I invite you to support and pray for our young people, our worship life, our diaper ministry, and Loaves and Fishes. I invite you to pray for those who are here. A couple of weeks ago, I asked you to look around, choose a person here, and pray for that person during the week. I invite you to do that again this week. And we can pray for those who are not here. Can you pray for and then invite here those who are missing? And here’s something else you can do. Last summer, we were blessed to welcome two new families into our parish. I am now praying that two more new families will join us this year. Will you join me in that prayer?
There’s an old hymn that some of you may know, “Are ye able?” The fourth verse and refrain of it go like this:
Are ye able? Still the Master
whispers down eternity,
and heroic spirits answer,
now as then in Galilee.
Lord, we are able. Our spirits are thine.
Remold them, make us, like thee, divine.
Thy guiding radiance above us shall be
a beacon to God, to love, and loyalty.
We are able. We are able, because we know that Jesus has been praying for his followers since the night before he died for them, and is praying for us still. We are able, because we know that, just as he promised to his first friends, he still promises to us, that he will empower us with the Holy Spirit, and that he will strengthen us a community able and willing to reach out to others. As we look towards Pentecost, we join our prayers with his. Come, Holy Spirit, come to us in this time and place. Come to us when we sit in silence and when we are moving too fast. Surprise us, revive us, and shape us into the Body of Christ. Amen.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Teach Us to Pray
One Sunday afternoon, in a locked section of a nursing home, a woman sat slumped in her wheelchair. Along with her husband two people had come from her parish with communion from that morning’s service. The woman moaned quietly when one of the visitors touched her arm. She made no other sound, not even to acknowledge her husband. The Eucharistic visitors laid out the communion linens and elements, read the Gospel lesson, and said the suggested prayers. Still no response. Then one of the visitors said, “And now, as our Savior Christ has taught us, we are bold to say, ‘Our Father….’” The woman’s head came up as she began to whisper, “who art in heaven….” At the end of the Lord’s Prayer, the woman shared in the Lord’s gifts.
Prayer is powerful. Because we say the Lord’s Prayer so often, and because it links us with members of almost every other Christian community, the Lord’s Prayer has a virtually unique power to stay with us and sustain us. Although Jesus teaches his followers that form of prayer in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, Scripture also has other things to teach us about prayer. This morning, as we stand on the threshold between our Lord’s Ascension and Pentecost, all three of our lessons teach us about the power of prayer.
Our lesson from the Book of Acts overlaps with the reading from Acts that some of us heard on Ascension Day. Our story begins with Jesus’ reminder to his disciples that they will soon experience personal transformation through the Holy Spirit. Then the disciples have an experience that convinces them that Jesus has been released from his visible, earthly existence and has returned to his life with God. Now they wonder what will happen next, and especially what Jesus’ promise of the Holy Spirit will mean. And so the disciples return to Jerusalem. They do the only thing they know how to do: they go back to that upper room. They join with their fellow disciples, both women and men, and they devote themselves to prayer. They take up that posture common to all Christians, really to believers of all faith communities, they wait in hope for the Lord’s promises to be fulfilled. As they wait, they pray together.
Just like the Jerusalem disciples before Pentecost, the members of the Christian community in Colossae also waited in hope for the fulfillment of the Lord’s promises. Theirs was a persecuted community, a tiny minority in a culture that considered them atheistic, subversive, and dangerous. The writer of the first letter in Peter’s name reminded these Christians that, if they were persecuted, they did not struggle alone, but that Jesus struggled with them in their trials. Consequently, whatever befell them, they were to pray together. In this way they could be assured of Jesus’ love for them: “Cast all your anxiety on him,” they were told, “because he cares for you.”
In our Gospel reading, we listen in on Jesus’ prayer at the very end of his last supper with his disciples. Jesus had instructed these chosen friends and given them a new commandment to love one another as he had loved them. Then, knowing that God’s time had finally come, Jesus turned toward his Father and began to pray. As the disciples overheard Jesus’ prayer, they learned a different model of prayer from the one the disciples were taught in Matthew and Luke. Anticipating his resurrection and ascension, Jesus first prayed for himself. “Glorify your Son,” he asks of the Father, “so that the Son may glorify you…. [G]lorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.” Jesus then prayed for his close friends. Again, anticipating his complete departure from the earthly, physical world that they inhabited, he prayed for their safety: “They are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me….” Finally, in the last part of the prayer, which we don’t hear here, Jesus prayed for the rest of the world, all those who would come to believe in him when his friends, filled with the Holy Spirit, carried the Good News to the ends of the earth. “I ask not only on behalf of these,” Jesus prayed, “but on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word….”
The message is clear: prayer, especially corporate, common, prayer is an integral part of life in God. Jesus prayed frequently throughout all four Gospels, Jesus taught us a model prayer, and, on his last night in his human body, Jesus prayed intently for us and for all future believers. While they waited for the promised Holy Spirit to explode on them, the disciples prayed continually together. As they endured the slights and persecutions of their fellow citizens, the Christians in Colossae leaned on their Lord and offered up to him all their cares and worries. Prayer is an integral part of life in God.
Prayer as a part of common life didn’t end with the beleaguered Christians of Colossae. Soon after Benedict of Nursia founded his holy communities amidst the chaos of sixth-century Italy, he wrote a Rule for them outlining how they were to live together. Benedict understood that his monks and nuns were not hermits. They were not cloistered, and they were not to spend their entire life on their knees. Rather, as they followed Benedict’s rule, they led a balanced life of prayer, both individual and corporate, work of about six hours a day, spiritual reading, especially study of Scripture, and fellowship around meals and recreation. Whatever they did, wherever they were, even when they were travelling, prayer formed the foundation of their lives, and prayer was woven inextricably into every aspect of their lives.
Benedict’s rule of a balanced life of prayer, study, work, and fellowship continues to be the standard for monastic communities today. Benedict’s rule also provides a model for our own life together. Leaving aside for the moment the values of study and fellowship, I want to focus here on the importance of regular prayer, both individual and corporate, for all of us – not just for those of us who wear clerical collars. You’ve probably noticed that when we worship, in our corporate prayers, either the ones we say together, or the ones that the presider prays on your behalf, there are generally four types of prayer: praise or adoration, in which we praise God for who God is or what God has done; thanksgiving, in which we thank God for all that God has done for us or given us; intercession, in which we pray for the needs of others; and confession, in which we admit to ourselves and to God the ways in which we have missed the mark. We can, and often do, use all four forms in our own personal prayer as well. In our personal prayer time we can also include some silence, in which we stop talking to God and just listen to God. Wherever we pray, and whichever forms of prayer we use, or even if we keep silent before God, prayer always has a two-fold goal. Just as Jesus did in his own earthly life, we pray to deepen our relationship with God, especially our trust in God’s love and care for us. Secondly, and perhaps more important, again following the model Jesus gave us, we pray for the life of the world, and especially that God’s reign may be brought nearer. Ultimately, the two goals converge: when we deepen our relationship with God, when we strengthen our confidence that God will fulfill God’s promises, then we see more clearly what our role is in making known to others God’s plan of salvation, the good news of God in Christ.
Jesus’, Peter’s, and Benedict’s instructions are clear: prayer is an integral part of our life as Jesus’ disciples. A balanced Christian life always includes time for prayer. No matter how busy your life is, give yourself the gift of prayer as part of your daily life. Here’s a starting place. Say grace at meals. If you’re by yourself, say it silently. Do you have two minutes in your day for prayer? Turn to page 103 in the Book of Common Prayer. Daily Noonday prayer is a wonderful way to put yourselves in God’s presence. It takes exactly two minutes to say – I guarantee it. How about five minutes at night? Turn to page 117. Compline takes five minutes. It’s a wonderful way to end the day with God. Intercede for others. Take the six suggestions for the Prayers of the People on page 383 of the prayer book. They’re perfect for organizing your personal prayer as well. Consider taking a retreat or quiet day, either one that I’ll be organizing or one available through other organizations. There’s no better way to immerse yourself in God’s love than to take an extended time with God apart from your ordinary life. And one more form of prayer. We are in a time of transition at St. Peter’s. Turn to page 817 of the prayer book. I challenge you to pray daily for St. Peter’s. You can use this prayer, or any other you want to say. God doesn’t care about the words, but God does care about whether the continued life of this parish is important to you. So pray for St. Peter’s! Just do it!
Prayer is powerful. And when our prayer is united with Jesus’ prayer for all creation, it is even more powerful yet. You yourselves, this parish, and the world need our prayers. And so may we continually pray, “Into your care, O God, we place ourselves and all our prayers, trusting your promise of new life in Jesus Christ, our risen Savior.”
Prayer is powerful. Because we say the Lord’s Prayer so often, and because it links us with members of almost every other Christian community, the Lord’s Prayer has a virtually unique power to stay with us and sustain us. Although Jesus teaches his followers that form of prayer in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, Scripture also has other things to teach us about prayer. This morning, as we stand on the threshold between our Lord’s Ascension and Pentecost, all three of our lessons teach us about the power of prayer.
Our lesson from the Book of Acts overlaps with the reading from Acts that some of us heard on Ascension Day. Our story begins with Jesus’ reminder to his disciples that they will soon experience personal transformation through the Holy Spirit. Then the disciples have an experience that convinces them that Jesus has been released from his visible, earthly existence and has returned to his life with God. Now they wonder what will happen next, and especially what Jesus’ promise of the Holy Spirit will mean. And so the disciples return to Jerusalem. They do the only thing they know how to do: they go back to that upper room. They join with their fellow disciples, both women and men, and they devote themselves to prayer. They take up that posture common to all Christians, really to believers of all faith communities, they wait in hope for the Lord’s promises to be fulfilled. As they wait, they pray together.
Just like the Jerusalem disciples before Pentecost, the members of the Christian community in Colossae also waited in hope for the fulfillment of the Lord’s promises. Theirs was a persecuted community, a tiny minority in a culture that considered them atheistic, subversive, and dangerous. The writer of the first letter in Peter’s name reminded these Christians that, if they were persecuted, they did not struggle alone, but that Jesus struggled with them in their trials. Consequently, whatever befell them, they were to pray together. In this way they could be assured of Jesus’ love for them: “Cast all your anxiety on him,” they were told, “because he cares for you.”
In our Gospel reading, we listen in on Jesus’ prayer at the very end of his last supper with his disciples. Jesus had instructed these chosen friends and given them a new commandment to love one another as he had loved them. Then, knowing that God’s time had finally come, Jesus turned toward his Father and began to pray. As the disciples overheard Jesus’ prayer, they learned a different model of prayer from the one the disciples were taught in Matthew and Luke. Anticipating his resurrection and ascension, Jesus first prayed for himself. “Glorify your Son,” he asks of the Father, “so that the Son may glorify you…. [G]lorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.” Jesus then prayed for his close friends. Again, anticipating his complete departure from the earthly, physical world that they inhabited, he prayed for their safety: “They are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me….” Finally, in the last part of the prayer, which we don’t hear here, Jesus prayed for the rest of the world, all those who would come to believe in him when his friends, filled with the Holy Spirit, carried the Good News to the ends of the earth. “I ask not only on behalf of these,” Jesus prayed, “but on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word….”
The message is clear: prayer, especially corporate, common, prayer is an integral part of life in God. Jesus prayed frequently throughout all four Gospels, Jesus taught us a model prayer, and, on his last night in his human body, Jesus prayed intently for us and for all future believers. While they waited for the promised Holy Spirit to explode on them, the disciples prayed continually together. As they endured the slights and persecutions of their fellow citizens, the Christians in Colossae leaned on their Lord and offered up to him all their cares and worries. Prayer is an integral part of life in God.
Prayer as a part of common life didn’t end with the beleaguered Christians of Colossae. Soon after Benedict of Nursia founded his holy communities amidst the chaos of sixth-century Italy, he wrote a Rule for them outlining how they were to live together. Benedict understood that his monks and nuns were not hermits. They were not cloistered, and they were not to spend their entire life on their knees. Rather, as they followed Benedict’s rule, they led a balanced life of prayer, both individual and corporate, work of about six hours a day, spiritual reading, especially study of Scripture, and fellowship around meals and recreation. Whatever they did, wherever they were, even when they were travelling, prayer formed the foundation of their lives, and prayer was woven inextricably into every aspect of their lives.
Benedict’s rule of a balanced life of prayer, study, work, and fellowship continues to be the standard for monastic communities today. Benedict’s rule also provides a model for our own life together. Leaving aside for the moment the values of study and fellowship, I want to focus here on the importance of regular prayer, both individual and corporate, for all of us – not just for those of us who wear clerical collars. You’ve probably noticed that when we worship, in our corporate prayers, either the ones we say together, or the ones that the presider prays on your behalf, there are generally four types of prayer: praise or adoration, in which we praise God for who God is or what God has done; thanksgiving, in which we thank God for all that God has done for us or given us; intercession, in which we pray for the needs of others; and confession, in which we admit to ourselves and to God the ways in which we have missed the mark. We can, and often do, use all four forms in our own personal prayer as well. In our personal prayer time we can also include some silence, in which we stop talking to God and just listen to God. Wherever we pray, and whichever forms of prayer we use, or even if we keep silent before God, prayer always has a two-fold goal. Just as Jesus did in his own earthly life, we pray to deepen our relationship with God, especially our trust in God’s love and care for us. Secondly, and perhaps more important, again following the model Jesus gave us, we pray for the life of the world, and especially that God’s reign may be brought nearer. Ultimately, the two goals converge: when we deepen our relationship with God, when we strengthen our confidence that God will fulfill God’s promises, then we see more clearly what our role is in making known to others God’s plan of salvation, the good news of God in Christ.
Jesus’, Peter’s, and Benedict’s instructions are clear: prayer is an integral part of our life as Jesus’ disciples. A balanced Christian life always includes time for prayer. No matter how busy your life is, give yourself the gift of prayer as part of your daily life. Here’s a starting place. Say grace at meals. If you’re by yourself, say it silently. Do you have two minutes in your day for prayer? Turn to page 103 in the Book of Common Prayer. Daily Noonday prayer is a wonderful way to put yourselves in God’s presence. It takes exactly two minutes to say – I guarantee it. How about five minutes at night? Turn to page 117. Compline takes five minutes. It’s a wonderful way to end the day with God. Intercede for others. Take the six suggestions for the Prayers of the People on page 383 of the prayer book. They’re perfect for organizing your personal prayer as well. Consider taking a retreat or quiet day, either one that I’ll be organizing or one available through other organizations. There’s no better way to immerse yourself in God’s love than to take an extended time with God apart from your ordinary life. And one more form of prayer. We are in a time of transition at St. Peter’s. Turn to page 817 of the prayer book. I challenge you to pray daily for St. Peter’s. You can use this prayer, or any other you want to say. God doesn’t care about the words, but God does care about whether the continued life of this parish is important to you. So pray for St. Peter’s! Just do it!
Prayer is powerful. And when our prayer is united with Jesus’ prayer for all creation, it is even more powerful yet. You yourselves, this parish, and the world need our prayers. And so may we continually pray, “Into your care, O God, we place ourselves and all our prayers, trusting your promise of new life in Jesus Christ, our risen Savior.”
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