When You Pray

Luke 11:1-13

When I was in my first call, a little over thirty years ago, I regularly visited a woman in the nursing home I’ll call Leila.  Lelia was in her late eighties and suffered from severe dementia.  She did not know who she was, or where she was, or who this strange young man who came to visit her was.  But, when we came to the Lord’s Prayer as we shared Holy Communion, her foggy eyes would clear and she would get every word right.  Every word.  Those familiar words woke something deep in her soul and drew her out.   That part of her which connected her to the God who claimed her in baptism was still attached.

The prayer that Jesus taught his disciples some two thousand years ago has reverberated through the life of the Church and continues to instruct our souls to this day.  It is more than just a rote prayer to be rambled off. If prayer is one of the primary ways we live out our relationship with God, the Lord’s Prayer helps define that relationship and how that relationship shapes our lives as God’s children.

Father, hallowed be your name.

Our Creator God IS holy. Transcendent.  Beyond human comprehension.  Unable to be captured fully in human language or art.  Wholly other.  And yet, the whole of scripture bears witness to the immanent, personal, compassionate and loving presence of God in the life of the world.  We hallow God’s name – that is, we worship God – because of this undeserved and gracious gift of presence.  We hallow God’s name out of a sense of awe, gratitude, wonder and humility that God would even recognize, let alone love, the little dust specks in the universe each of us are.  Worship is not about being entertained.  Worship is about pausing at least once a week to acknowledge and give thanks for this amazing truth.

Give us each day our daily bread.

Inhale.  Feel your breath fill your lungs.  Let it out slowly.  That breath and every one you have taken before it and will take after it is pure gift. Spend a few minutes reflecting on the space you currently occupy.  What do you see?  Look at the details.  What do you hear, feel, smell?  Everything within the reach of your senses and beyond is a gift.  Pure gift.  The poet Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote, “The whole world is charged with the grandeur of God.”  Every time we pray for our daily bread we acknowledge this fact.  We ask that God might help us see its truth.  We are reminded that, as Christians, we have a responsibility to share our daily bread (which isn’t ours at all) with those around us – from our breath to our wealth.

Forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.

Because of Christ, we know our sins are already forgiven.  That’s what the cross and resurrection were about.  The Passion Story teaches us that God’s love is stronger than hate, that God’s life is stronger than death and that there is nothing, NOTHING, in heaven or on earth that can separate us from God’s love.  But that is more than a personal eternal insurance policy.  When we pray this prayer we are committing ourselves to work for reconciliation.  God’s forgiveness empowers our forgiveness. Our meager, sometimes successful and often failed attempts at forgiveness help us to understand the real depths of God’s forgiveness for us.  Knowing that God forgives us gives us the courage to try forgiving again.

And do not bring us to the time of trial.

Trials come.  Suffering comes.   Brokenness is part and parcel of human existence in a broken world.  Like Jesus prayed for the cup of suffering to be taken from him, we pray that we might be spared what we know is inevitable.  Like Jesus got up from prayer and went to the cross, so too we pray we might be given the strength we need to face what we must.  Jesus promises to be with us to the end of the age. God promises to go with us through the times of trial, yes, even through death itself.  

Luke’s version of the Lord’s Prayer acknowledges God’s steadfast love, inexhaustible grace, and how it can and does shape who we are and how we live even when, like Leila, it’s the only thing we have left.  

Peace,

Bishop Mike.

Thank-you for reading. Keep praying!

Gracepoint

Luke 10:38-42

Mary…  sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying.  –Luke 10:39

For a long time now, I have had a vision of creating a community of listening.  I have called this place, “Gracepoint.”  A point of grace.  Gracepoint would be a place apart from the frantic pace of life in today’s world.  A place that holds sacred space open.  A place of healing.  A place dedicated to prayer and reflection.  A place where people could stop for a bit to hear the still small voice of God, contemplate the Word, and sit at the Lord’s feet and just listen.  I realize there are already such places in the world.  Retreat centers.  Monasteries.  Bible camps.  But there are not nearly enough of them.   

There are plenty of places where Martha would be comfortable. Places where people are dedicated to building and binding and mission and ministry and witness and teaching and preaching and doing God’s work with our hands.  Places of action and advocacy.  Places of service and compassion.  Places where Samaritans care for people who have been cast into ditches.  People the world walks by unnoticed.  Places where people dive into the frantic brokenness of the world and work tirelessly to share the love of Christ.  This is important work!  Holy work!  Gospel work! But sometimes, I fear that we risk getting so busy with our ministry that we lose our moorings and our roots and Jesus winds up just getting honorable mention in what WE are doing to save the world.  

I live and work in Martha’s world.  But, I yearn for Mary’s.  Both are important and necessary in the life of the Body of Christ.  But I confess that, there are days, when I would step out of Martha’s world in a heartbeat if God opened the door to bring the Gracepoint I have imagined into being.  But, right now, there are still dishes to be done.  And, like the rest of us, I have to settle for finding those points of grace to reconnect to Christ wherever I can in the midst of the busy-ness of life.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

I pray that you can find times to sit at Jesus’ feet and just listen.  Thanks for reading.

Proclaim the Reign

Luke 10:1-24

“Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them ‘The kingdom of God has come near you.” --Luke 10:8-9

I tend to be an optimist. There is something deep inside me that is convinced that problems can be solved, that people can work through conflicts, that people and congregations can grow and that positive change is possible. I generally assume that most people are people of good will and wantto work things out, solve problems and contribute to positive change even when we don’t see those things in the same way. But, lately, I’ve been finding it harder and harder to maintain my optimistic worldview.  Cynicism has crept in.  I’ve begun to wonder if anything ever will change.  I have been feeling tired of trying.  

In this week’s lesson, Jesus sends seventy people out to prepare the way for him as he makes his way to Jerusalem and to the cross.   He gives the seventy a pretty focused mission: to extend peace to the people they meet, cure the sick and proclaim the kingdom of God.  He warns them that they will meet resistance, but also that they should receive the hospitality extended to them.

I admit, I’ve been wrestling with what it means to proclaim the Reign of God this week. It’s hard to proclaim the Reign of God if you can’t see it.  And it is hard to see it if you are overcome by a fatalistic cynicism that limits your vision like a nighttime fog on a twisty road.     But, then I realized that in spite of the many legitimate reasons to succumb to cynicism and even despair, God is at work in the world!  So here are just a few examples.  Maybe you can think of a few of your own.

Just a few weeks ago, I was in Tanzania visiting our companion church there.  The Tanzanian Lutheran Church is one of the fastest growing churches in the world.  That alone is cause for celebration.  But, I was struck by their hospitality, their welcome and their generosity.  I was awed by their excitement and eagerness to share their faith with us, and with anyone who will listen.

I thought about the many little churches (15-50 in worship) in our synod who are deeply engaged in caring for people in the name of Christ: immigrants, the homeless, the hungry, the poor, the suffering, the struggling, strangers and friends in their communities. Our churches have meal programs, and are involved in advocacy efforts, and are working to build bridges with “the other” right outside their doors.

I thought about congregations who are welcoming new people to the faith.  Who are growing in faith, love and devotion to God.  Two of our smallest congregations have each baptized over a half-dozen people in the last year!  One of our largest congregations continues to grow steadily and welcome newcomers.  More than one congregation has embraced the radical inclusivity of the Reign of God and it shows in the vibrancy of their ministries both inside and outside of their church walls.

The Reign of God is drawing near!  God’s Shalom – wholeness, peace, healing – is happening!  The sick are being cured!  Oh, there is still resistance.  Always will be.  Jesus is clear about that.  But he is also clear about the Good News that, because God reigns, all things are possible – including resurrection and new life.

I think I feel a spark of optimism.

Peace,

Bishop Mike

Thanks for reading.  I pray you see the Reign of God breaking into your world this week.