"Pontius Pilate: I Was There" - Monologue for Midweek Lent 2015

Pontius Pilate:  I Was There
Midweek Lent 2015
Mankato, MN Area "Round Robin"

Hello, my name is Pontius Pilate, and I was there for the crucifixion of Jesus, your “Messiah.” But you probably know me since you use my name every week in your statement of belief, “crucified under Pontius Pilate.” At least, you think you know me, or you think that you know all there is important to know about me. Let me tell you, people are rarely as simple as we think they there; there’s always more going on in people’s lives. However, in order for you to better understand, I’d better start at the beginning, how this all happened. I hope that by telling you what happened when I was there that you could be there, too.

My wife, Procula, and I were so excited to be going to my first important posting in the Roman government. I was to be prefect (a governor in your terminology) of Judea, certainly a stepping-stone for greater positions later on. I learned all I could about the Jewish people before I left and I had high hopes to Romanize them. Sure, I heard about how obstinate and difficult they were, especially where their religion was concerned. It’s hard to imagine they believed in only one God while most Romans believe in many gods. So, when I moved one of my legions into the Antonian fortress in Jerusalem, the Jews went crazy because the standards carried the image of Caesar Tiberius, and Jews prohibit images of any kind in their holy city.

That didn’t end well and what was worse, the emperor, Caesar Tiberius, caught wind of it in back home. I was in trouble. I was caught between a rock and hard place, several of them, in fact. Sejanus, my benefactor, was anti-Jewish and supported me in my hard line, but when it was discovered that he was plotting against Tiberius, he was purged along with others. I thought I was next, but thankfully, I was spared. Tiberius was more sympathetic to the Jews, which meant that I had to walk a fine line between diplomacy and keeping order. If it weren’t for Herod Antipas and Phillip, puppet rulers who were part Jewish, it would have been much easier.

So, when it came time to deal with this Jesus character, I had to really watch my step. I had to balance firm, Roman rule and enforcement of Roman law with diplomatic finesse while trying to work with the Jewish religious leaders and not getting myself in trouble with Tiberius. You know much of the story. It began with reports of this crazy prophet who was baptizing people and talking about someone else coming after him who would restore the Jews to their rightful place. At least I didn’t have to worry about them much because they were Antipas’ problem in Galilee.

I was glad when Antipas made a huge blunder by beheading John because of a half-drunken promise to Salome, his wife’s daughter. After that, there were reports of Jesus drawing great crowds, healing people, feeding thousands and even turning water into wine. Of course, I dismissed him as one more charlatan trickster; there were plenty of those to go around. But, the religious leaders were not amused, especially when Jesus had some choice words for them. Long story short, it was clear they wanted to get rid of Jesus, but again, it was not my problem.

That changed when during the Jewish festival of Passover. I always made a habit of traveling from my palace in Caesarea to my home in Jerusalem because there were so many Jews coming to celebrate. They needed a physical Roman presence to keep things in hand. In addition, it was good time to conduct empire business. So, I was surprised that Jesus came to Jerusalem because he knew the leaders wanted to kill him. Not only did he come, but also his followers went wild, strewing palm branches, calling him Son of David.

Right then, it seemed like events spiraled out of control. I learned later that they captured him at night so they wouldn’t upset the crowds and even got one of his followers to betray him with a kiss. Their court, the Sanhedrin, in a mockery of a trial convicted him of blasphemy and sentenced to death. However, they couldn’t put him to death because when I arrived in Judea six years earlier, I had removed their right to do that, so they brought Jesus to me. In hindsight, I only regret this one thing.

Well, I don’t know who I was exasperated about more, the religious leaders or Jesus. They really had no case against him, but they wouldn’t be appeased by any compromise. And Jesus, he just stood there, didn’t say a word, didn’t call any witnesses to defend himself. Then I had a great idea: since his so-called crimes were committed in Galilee, I’d send him to Herod Antipas and let him deal with it. But he sent him right back, and my last hope, releasing a criminal for Passover didn’t work either. What made this situation even worse was that, in trying to appease Tiberius and the religious leaders and wanting to do the just thing, my own wife told me she was warned in a dream that I should leave him alone.

Well, you know the rest of it: I washed my hands of the whole affair and condemned him to death with two other common criminals I had found guilty earlier in the day. Then a couple of the religious leaders claimed his body and buried him quickly. A few days later, I began to hear reports that he had been raised from the dead and appeared to many of his followers. I tried in vain to prove that it was a hoax, another trick, but to no avail; the story began to spread.

As for me, I was recalled to Rome after a nasty affair with the Samaritans on trumped up charges. Ten years I tried to serve faithfully as a Roman governor, but I think the cards were stacked against me. Some people believed I committed suicide to preserve my family honor, but don’t believe it. I often wonder what would have happened if I had stood up to everyone and let Jesus go. Honestly, I think the world would have found another way to kill him, but I’m the one they blame. I don’t expect you to feel sorry for me, but I hope you have a different view of the events that happened 2,000 years ago from someone who was there, especially from now on when you say my name each week. I hope you feel like you were there, too. Thanks for listening.

Postscript:

Pontius Pilate ruled as prefect in Judea for 10 years, from 26 AD to 36 AD. We don’t know what happened to him after he was recalled to Rome. One tradition has it that he committed suicide to avoid disgrace at his recall, but the source of that tradition was biased against Pilate and is doubtful at best. Another tradition says that his wife, Procula, became a Christian and that Pilate himself was a secret Christian. What we do know is that the Greek Orthodox Church canonized his wife and celebrates “St. Procula’s Day" on October 27, and that the Ethiopian Church recognizes June 25 “St. Pilate and St. Procula’s Day.” I am indebted to Paul L. Maier's book, Pontius Pilate, for much of the content of this monologue. (Kregel, Grand Rapids, MI, 1968, 2014)

"It’s Not Fair!" - Sermon for the Second Sunday in Lent

It’s Not Fair!
Lent 2 – Narrative Lectionary 1
March 1, 2015
Grace, Mankato, MN
Matthew 20.1-16

Many of you know that I am a second career (or mid-life crisis) pastor. I was previously in business world for 16 years prior to entering seminary. I first felt the call to ministry in 1984, but we were expecting our first daughter, Angela, then so the timing was not good. However, God doesn’t let go very easily and the call kept coming up. Finally, at Christmas of 1991in my annual letter to family and friends I asked for prayer as we discerned this momentous change in our lives. That January I received a call from one of my aunts. She did not receive a letter but had heard through other relatives about my prayer request. She said that if I decided to go to seminary she would contribute a generous sum each year for all four years. It was one of the most undeserved and over the top acts of grace I have ever experienced.

In this second week of Lent, we encounter another of Jesus’ challenging parables that stretch us. Last week, in the parable of the unforgiving servant, we heard about a God whose forgiveness helps us repair our own broken relationships. Today we read the parable of the laborers in the vineyard, or more appropriately titles, the overly generous landowner. Some of you may remember that we read this parable last summer when we delved into the fruit of the spirit, in this case, generosity. Though the parable reads that way, today I want to focus instead on the lavishness of God’s grace and mercy. I want us to go deeper into how this parable stretches our understanding of God’s kingdom now.

On one level, I think most of us are able to intellectually understand how God’s mercy and grace are for all people. After all, we want everyone to know God’s love for them and wish them to live a redeemed life. But on another level, there is something in us that grates late conversions. We think that we who have been so faithful to God for so long ought to receive some consideration, right? However, the scandal of the parable is not as much God’s lavish grace and mercy that God wishes to pour out on anyone and everyone. I think the scandal of the parable is how it reveals our own hard hearts.

In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus eats with prostitutes, tax collectors and sinners, much to the chagrin of the religious leaders of the day. So, a late worker is anyone we think might be unlovable by God or is beyond God’s power to reconcile to himself. It doesn’t take much imagination to think about who we think in our modern world might be excluded from that grace. This past week during our midweek Lent service, I portrayed Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor who crucified Jesus. During the adult forum time afterward, the question came up if he (or Judas) was ever redeemed by God. Some traditions actually claim Pilate was a secret Christian and the Ethiopian church recognizes him as a saint. But, here’s my take: the Bible seems to say that nobody is ever beyond God’s love and I believe the parable says that God will keep coming into the marketplace inviting us into the vineyard until all of us join him in the kingdom.

There’s one more aspect of this parable we sometimes miss. There are some aspects of our lives that we think are beyond God’s grace and mercy, things we’ve done we are ashamed of or we wish we could do over. In our minds we may say that we know God has taken care of them, but in our hearts we aren’t sure. When I was a new manager trainee for Minnesota Fabrics I came close to being fired because of a poor performance review. I learned afterwards that my manager argued with our boss to keep me and give me another chance, one that I didn’t deserve. It was again one of the most gracious acts I have ever received, unmerited grace and mercy.

The parable pushes us to ask what roadblocks we erect to God’s grace, in our lives and in the lives of others. Regardless, please know that God will never, ever stop coming for you or for others, but he’d like you to come now so you can enjoy the life God has to offer. God will have his way with you, but it’s the way of love, and God will go as far as it takes, even to the cross. Amen.

"Life Together Part 2: Forgiveness" - Sermon for the First Sunday in Lent

Life Together Part 2: Forgiveness
Lent 1 – Narrative Lectionary 1
February 22, 2015
Grace, Mankato, MN
Matthew 18.15-35

Many of you know that I’m a big fan of the Disney movie, “Frozen.” I like its strong, female characters who can be princesses without being princesses. I truly appreciate its message of love; not romantic love, but sacrificial love. Plus it is just good fun with memorable songs. Yet, I came to realize this past week that its signature song, “Let It Go,” with all of its farcical offshoots and its seemingly beneficial message, is problematic in many ways. No matter how much we’d like to do so, sometimes we can’t just let it go. A number of years ago a pithy Christian saying was making the rounds: “Let go and let God.” But when it comes to forgiveness, letting go and even letting God can be nigh on impossible.

Today we are presented with some more of Jesus’ teaching, this time with an explanatory parable at the end. It’s a parable that is all too clear: we are to forgive. This reading is the second half of Jesus’ fourth discourse, the first part having been read on Ash Wednesday. We noted then that the overall theme of this discourse is how we are live together in community. On Ash Wednesday, we learned that life together means that we are to have childlike humility, utterly dependant on God. Today, we pick up the topic of forgiveness, about what needs to happen when community is broken. Clearly, Matthew’s community took their life together seriously because as they preserved the words of Jesus we find that there’s explicit instruction for how we repair broken relationships.

I’m fairly certain that if you polled 100 Christians about whether forgiveness is important, 110 of them would say “Yes.” I’m also sure that we’d all agree it is God’s forgiveness that makes our forgiveness possible. When I meet with couples who wish to be married, we read in Genesis 1about how God created us in God’s image. When I ask what they think that means, a variety of answers are given. Once in a while, some have pointed out that we love and forgive like God loves and forgives. In fact, there is an old Jewish folk tale that says before God created the world God forgave it. And the parable indicates with an absurd amount how unbounded God’s forgiveness really is. It has been estimated that to pay pack 10,000 talents would take 150,000 years!

Yet, this head knowledge comes smack up against our practical reality of hurts and damages that happen to us. CS Lewis notes that it’s a beautiful notion until it comes up against that flesh and blood person you want to smack in the nose. We also know that our society has a hard time with repentance and forgiveness. All you have to do is pick up a newspaper or log into social media. As we have seen with A-Rod (Alex Rodriguez), what passes for apologies and repentance is a sham. And when someone is caught in an unfortunate situation, such as Brian Williams, even a sincere apology is not enough to prevent a sacrificial blood-letting. Furthermore, we also know that not forgiving is toxic; as they say, it’s like drinking rat poison and expecting the rat to die. And we know that not being able to forgive leads to hearts that are hardened and closed to love.

So, what are we to do? Well, it seems forgiveness begins with accepting that we cannot change the past no matter how devastating it is and how much we want to do so. But, it means realizing the past doesn’t have to hold us captive any longer. It also means that for us to be able to forgive we need utterly and humbly depend on God. Corrie Ten Boom was a Dutch Christian who was held in a Nazi camp during WWII because of her actions to free Jews from persecution. Most of her family was slaughtered but she somehow managed to survive. Years later she spoke at an event and after she was finished speaking, an old man came up to her. She recognized immediately that he was a guard at the prison and responsible for much of the brutality. Yet, here he was, holding out his hand and asking forgiveness. She said she could not forgive him, but she could take his hand. As she did so, she felt God’s forgiveness flowing through her, doing what she could not do for herself.

Regarding forgiveness, “Let it go” isn’t particularly helpful, and letting God is helps get us further. God is steadfastly determined to wring healing and wholeness out of the tragedy and brokenness of our lives. That’s the message of the cross, God’s pledge to forgive all, to not let our past hold us captive any longer. And the resurrection is God’s promise that, regardless of our past, we have an open future of God’s making. In the end, “let it go” may not change anything, but as a commentator notes, “let it in, let it work and watch it grow” does. May God’s unending forgiveness flow through you and give you new life. Amen.

"Life Together Part 1: Humility" - Sermon for Ash Wednesday

Life Together Part 1: Humility
Ash Wednesday – Narrative Lectionary 1
February 18, 2015
Grace, Mankato, MN
Matthew 18.1-9

A number of years ago Susan told me a story about an experience she had as a young army wife. Her husband was a newly minted 1st Lieutenant and he’d just changed assignments to a new base. Back then, it was all male officers and female spouses and so it was not unusual for the base commander’s wife to invite all of the newly arrived wives to a reception at her home on the base. When they gathered, the commander’s wife directed all of the wives to line up in order of their rank. Susan, being new, stood befuddled while the wives tried to sort themselves out, but assumed that she’d be at the end of the line. After a few minutes of this, the commander’s wife barked them to attention with the phrase, “Ladies, you have no rank; it is your husbands who have the rank.” Though the experience may have bordered on humiliation, it was a lesson in humility that Susan never forgot.

Tonight’s reading is the first half of Jesus’ fourth discourse in Matthew’s gospel. There are five blocks of teaching where Jesus helps his followers understand the ways of the kingdom. If you were to read all of chapter 18 (the rest of which we’ll read Sunday), you’d see that this teaching focuses on how we are to live together in community. Here is another reminder that even though our relationship with Jesus is personal, it’s not private. What we do or don’t do and what we say or don’t say have profound effects on other people.

Yet, what really gets our attention is that Jesus calls us to relate to each other in a different way than our society tells us we should relate to each other: like children. In Jesus’ time, children had no social standing or status. At best they were considered potential persons. At worst, they were considered property. So, to become like a child is to assume the same kind of status.

There are many ideas about what Jesus means when he says we are to become like children. Along with turning status on its head – you’re not somebody until you’re nobody – there is also the idea that to be like a child is to be teachable. Children are little sponges and love to soak up information. Being like a child also means knowing that we are utterly dependent upon God for everything we need.

One of my biggest concerns about what passes for civil discourse in our society (which is anything but) is a lack of humility in conversation. Now, I appreciate when people are passionate about their beliefs, but passion needs to be tempered with a healthy dose of, “I could be wrong.” We need to be open to what other people are saying to us, even when it is offensive, because we need to be in relationship with others. We can’t do that if we shut down ourselves and our conversations. This is a great example about what we talked about Sunday and God’s command to the disciples that we listen to his Beloved Son. Listening to Jesus means giving up ourselves, cutting out distractions and opening ourselves up in humility to engage the other.

Tonight we begin the 40 days of Lent, a season of reflection on our lives and what matters most to us. To start us off and given our text, perhaps we could update Jesus’ words for today: “Unless you change and become like a homeless person, the truly important things of this world will get farther away from you.” And, “if your iPhone or Lexus or Calvin Klein’s cause you to stumble or get in the way of the life I call you to live with one another, you would do well to put them aside, for your sake and the sake of others.”

Quite often, to assist us in this reflective thinking, we give up something for Lent or we add a spiritual discipline. I always wrestle with this and I even hesitate talking about it because I don’t want to give the impression that I’m a spiritual superhero, because I’m not. However, I wouldn’t suggest something to you that I’m not willing to do myself. So, his year I want to be more mindful of where I am rather than where I’m going. It’s more than just slowing down; it’s being present in the moment rather than always thinking of all the things I have to do. Now, it’s always good to have an accountability partner, not to bash you over the head but to ask, “How’s it going?” So, for the next 40 days, I invite you to ask me, “Where are you, pastor?” No doubt, my answers will vary, but if I’m not “in the moment” I’ll thank you for the gentle reminder. Either way, whether you engage in a Lenten discipline or not, know that the one who gave up everything to reconcile us to God invites you to new life. Amen.

"Listen to Him" - Sermon for Transfiguration Sunday

Listen to Him
Transfiguration – Narrative Lectionary 1
Grace, Mankato, MN
February 15, 2015
Matthew 16.21-17.9

“This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!”

A number of years ago during a routine physical I was given a hearing test. At its completion, I was asked by the nurse if I was married. Replying yes, the nurse said, “Well, you can tell your wife your hearing is just fine.” Through the years whenever I’ve been accused of not listening, I’ve learned to ask my wife, “Was I looking at you when you said that?” About 4.5 years ago this hearing thing stopped being funny when I experienced Idiopathic Sudden Sensorineural Hearing Loss, a condition for which there is no explanation or treatment. Ringing in my ears, background noise and diminished range make hearing and listening a challenge every day.

It may have been my hearing struggles that made me focus on God’s command in today’s reading, “listen to him!” We’ve reached a pivotal point in Matthew’s gospel, one that both looks back and forward. Five weeks ago on the first Sunday after Epiphany at Jesus’ baptism, as Jesus was coming up out of the water, the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove alighted upon him and a voice from heaven said, “This is my son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” Now we have a similar scene, except that Jesus is transfigured on the mountain and the divine cloud appears, adding the phrase, “listen to him!”

This past week in a number of places, I asked people what they thought it means to listen to Jesus. Pr. Collette Broady Grund mentioned a sermon she’d read by Barbara Brown Taylor. Taylor said that Jesus’ disciples needed to trust what they hear from Jesus, not what they see, because it’s the only way that they can make sense of what happens to Jesus. In the time to come they will see their master and friend be arrested, beaten and crucified on the cross. We all know that appearances, especially first impressions, can be deceiving. Nowhere is that more true than in the counter-cultural message of losing our life in order to find it.

This past Wednesday night I tossed the question out to the adults and confirmation students in our worship service. Becky Glaser said something simple, but profoundly theological: we have to give up ourselves in order to listen. When we listen to another person, our normal habit is to think ahead of what we are going to say next. Instead, we have to remove all thoughts and concentrate on what the other person is saying and meaning by what they say. In listening to Jesus, we have to shut out distractions, especially voices telling us life is found elsewhere. Here’s a small example: I struggle to do my daily devotions, being distracted by thinking about all I need to do. Sometimes I even fall asleep! Eliminating distractions is hard, but necessary in order to listen to Jesus.

Finally, Joyce Nelson reminded us that listening is not a passive affair with Jesus; we are to act on what we hear. In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus has some hard things to say to us about the life of faith. We are to empty ourselves, take up the cross of Servanthood and follow the example Jesus set for us. What we hear Jesus teaching us about God’s kingdom is deeply connected to how we live our lives. In the coming weeks, Jesus will teach us about true humility, forgiveness, and the need to be alert. He will also remind us that God’s lavish grace that is meant for all people also demands a response from us.

This last week we learned of Kayla Mueller’s death, probably at the hands of her captors, ISIS. Kayla had gone to Syria to help ease the suffering of the thousands caught in this brutal conflict. She has said that, while other people see God in various places, she sees God in the suffering of others. So, she went to Syria in response to God’s call on her life, to ease suffering. In a little while, we’ll gather to eat omelets to support Edith White, serving in Togo and Benin West Africa and Global Eye Mission around the world. Not all of us are called to go to foreign places to serve God and others, but we are called to listen for what Jesus does call us to do. We can’t always trust we see, so we listen, cutting out the distractions and noise, actively listening. And when we stumble, which we know we’ll do, we know Jesus is there to pick us up, telling us not to be afraid, sending us out again. Listen to him. Amen.

"Take Heart" - Sermon for the Fifth Sunday after Epiphany

Take Heart
Epiphany 5 – Narrative Lectionary 1
February 8, 2015
Grace, Mankato, MN
Matthew 14.13-33

We have jumped a long way from last week’s reading from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount in 6 and our mediation on the Lord’s Prayer. In this current section, the rejection of Jesus in his hometown and the continuing opposition from the religious leaders prompts him to stress teaching to his disciples. He does this while healing and performing wonders. Here, we encounter two well-known miracle stories, each of which we could feed on with much left over. Both of these have generated much conversation, particularly about “did this really happen.” I think more fruitful exploration involves asking what the readings say about God and how we participate in God’s ongoing acts of creation.
Let us pray…

I was reminded of a joke this past week. It seems there was a scientist who claimed that God was nothing special because this scientist had learned how to create a human being, just as God did. When challenged to prove his claim, the scientist proceeded to so by saying, “First you take some dirt…” All of a sudden, a voice from heaven interrupted the scientist saying, “Use your own dirt.” So it was I read with interest the Free Press story about the English Parliament. It was voting to allow genetic scientists to experiment with the creation of an embryo from three parents to avoid genetic abnormalities. This news prompts a lot of theological, social and moral questions that are very important, but it also highlights our ongoing participation in God’s ongoing creative work.

That’s the commonality that links the two wonder stories in today’s reading. One thing that links these two miracle stories is that both look back to Genesis 1 and the creation story. When Jesus tells the disciples to feed the crowds and they claim they have nothing, except five loaves and two fish, they have no idea that the very creator who formed the universe out of nothing, making all the life giving food in the process, can take their nothing and make a lot of something out of it. And when they are in the small boat battling the chaotic forces of nature that threaten to overwhelm them, they will see this same creator who tamed the chaos at creation do the same again on the Sea of Galilee.

I think that these two stories typify the Christian life, what it is like to be caught between faith and doubt. Isn’t it interesting how the same disciples who witnessed the abundant feeding of the multitude are now scared stiff? Yet, note that Jesus doesn’t say they have no faith; he says they have little faith. But as we know, it only takes the faith of a mustard seed, the smallest of seeds, through which Jesus does extraordinary things. That’s the kind of faith that can uproot mountains and throw them into the sea.

Furthermore, remember earlier in Matthew, when Jesus was tempted by Satan. We noted that his mocking, “If you are the Son of God” can be translated, “Since you are the Son of God,” a confession of faith. When Jesus comes to his disciples on the water, a better translation of “It is I” is “I am,” the divine name of God. Peter in effect says the same thing here: “Since you are, command me to come and be with you.”

Author, theologian and preacher par excellence Barbara Brown Taylor puts legs to these stories by admonishing us to “stop waiting for a miracle and participate in one instead.: For the same creator who brought order out of chaos at creation still does so today. The one who made the universe out of nothing, provided food at creation and manna in the wilderness for the Israelites, and fed the multitudes still does, taking our nothing and make abundant something. And as we look forward in Matthew to the Lord’s Last Supper, his crucifixion and death, we remember that this same God can bring life out of death. That’s a lot of something out of nothing.

So we ask ourselves, where is God overcoming our fear, sending us out into uncharted waters? When we stumble, where is God taking hold of us in forgiveness, mercy, love and grace, ready to make something out of our nothing? As my former colleague, Pr. Michelle Rem often asked, “Can we dream a dream so big only God can fulfill it?” My brothers and sisters, take heart, for the Lord of creation continues do wondrous things, calling us to risks ourselves in the going creative work, taking our nothing and making incredible something. Amen.

"The Heart of Prayer" - Sermon for the Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

The Heart of Prayer
Epiphany 4
February 1, 2015
Grace, Mankato, MN
Matthew 6.7-21

Today’s focus scripture is from Jesus’ “Sermon on the Mount.” It is the first, largest, and arguably one of most important blocks of teaching in Matthew’s gospel, and perhaps the New Testament, with the possible exception of his Farewell Discourse in John. As we noted last week, Jesus assumes the position of authority and revelation on the mountain. In doing this and other things, Matthew portrays him as a prophet like Moses. Yet, Jesus is unique because, instead of receiving the Law, Jesus is shown to be the right interpreter of the Law. He is not abolishing the Law but instead insisting that his followers pursue the greater righteous the interpretation of the Law demands. Interestingly, the Lord’s Prayer stands at the center of this sermon. Today’s message explores why this is important for us.

Let us pray…

A number of experiences shaped my understanding of prayer in general and the Lord’s Prayer in particular. One experience occurred almost 20 years when I was visiting a young woman in a nursing home while on internship. This woman had Cerebral Palsy and was confined to a wheelchair. She was unable to communicate much, though she laughed heartily when I told her I was a registered Girl Scout. Uncomfortable because we couldn’t talk much, I plowed ahead with giving her Communion. When I came to the Lord’s Prayer I became aware she was saying the it right along with me. Certainly, it was not as polished, but it was there nonetheless. This was the first of many instances showing me the power of the prayer our Lord taught us.

A second experience occurred during a community worship service where I had been invited to preach. I think it was a high school Baccalaureate service. Shortly after my sermon, another pastor was tasked with saying a prayer. As he did so, I became aware that he was offering a subtle but unmistakable rebuttal and commentary to my sermon. I was reminded of a line I had come across a few years earlier about preachers and prayer: “Open your eyes, brother, you’re preaching, not praying.”

These and many other experiences have shown me two things: the difficulty of prayer and the power of the Lord’s Prayer. Why else is there such a discomfort about prayer and vehement conversation about which version we use. Perhaps the power of the Lord’s Prayer is what makes us uncomfortable, for at the heart of the Lord’s Prayer we declare that we want to align ourselves and our wills most fully with God’s. We ask for the coming of his reign here on earth. Frankly, I think that’s the scariest thing we can pray for, “Your kingdom come, your will be done.” Look where it got Jesus as he prayed that prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane before he was crucified on a cross. Frederick Buechner says it as only he can: “To speak these words is to invite the tiger out of the cage, to unleash a power that makes atomic power look like a warm breeze.”

Yet, it’s the most important prayer to pray because we acknowledge that neither we nor the world is not as it ought to be and we ask God to make it and us right. A colleague, Pr. Collette Broady Grund put it this way: “I don’t always like who I am either, so I need God to make me different.” Five hundred years earlier, Martin Luther had this to say: we don’t pray to God to tell God what we want (because God already knows) but to align ourselves with God. This is one of the hardest things about the life of faith, because many things stand in the way of aligning our will to God’s in prayer. For me, one thing that stands in the way is the busy-ness of my life and another is being a pastor. I spend so much time doing these things “professionally” that it’s hard to do them as a regular person. What about you? What stands in the way between you and God?

In a way of helping, I want to end with a Thomas Merton quote that was shared with me the other day. It may help you as you seek to navigate around those things that get in the as you grow closer to God. Let us pray it together:

“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.”

― Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude