Prayer

The Doorway into Thanks

Luke 11:1-13

(Gary W. Charles, Cove Presbyterian Church, Covesville, VA, 7-24-2016)

I have been praying a lot lately. Praying for you and for me as we begin this new journey together. Praying for loved ones that Jennell and I left behind in Atlanta, including our two children. Praying for civility and truth-telling to find a prominent place in public debate. Praying for so many of my friends who keep being reminded, and far too often, that black lives matter little. Praying for law enforcement officers caught in the deadly social crossfire of violence gone wild. Praying for a large percentage of people today who see God as nothing more than an artifact of days gone by, see Jesus as nothing more than just another good guy who died too young, and see the Holy Spirit as nothing more than silly church hocus pocus.

I have been praying a lot lately. I have always wished that my prayers were more eloquent. While a student at Union, I would rush to my Hebrew class, not so much because I loved Hebrew, but because of the prayers that Sib Towner would pray at the start of each class. The eloquence of his prayers would move my soul for hours and I always left class wishing, “How I wish I could pray like Dr. Towner.”

Eloquent or not, I have been praying a lot lately. It is not that praying is new to me. I grew up in a family that prayed daily, but our family prayers were largely Prayer 101. We prayed at the dinner table every night, but never at breakfast and never at lunch. I still am not quite sure why. My late brother, Dale, and I were instructed to pray at bedtime, but those instructions were often ignored, especially as we approached our teen years. As I finished Seminary, I still did not pray as eloquently as I wished, but I knew much more about prayer. At least, I thought I did. Then, I entered the church and I realized that I had a lifetime of learning left about prayer.

I wonder in today’s text if the disciples of Jesus ask him such an odd question because he made them realize whole new dimensions to prayer. After all, why would these disciples who had prayed several times a day, every day, all their lives, ask Jesus:  “Lord, teach us how to pray.” Surely their request was more than about technique:  “Do we stand to pray or kneel or sit with our eyes closed?” “Is it best to craft long, eloquent prayers or to sit for extended periods in silent prayer?” Maybe the disciples saw something in the quality of Jesus’ prayer life that made them want to learn more about this mysterious human act, an act that, for them, had long since lost any mystery.

When I announced that I was leaving Central Presbyterian in Atlanta to accept the call from Cove, the best advice I was given was by a relatively new member. He encouraged me to spend my remaining time at Central not making sure every detail was in place prior to my departure. Instead, he encouraged me to spend this leaving time in giving thanks.

It was soon after his sage advice that I came upon these wise words from the marvelous poet, Mary Oliver in her book, Thirst:

“Praying
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.”

Mary Oliver had to be reading my mind when she wrote these words, because

ever since my Hebrew class, too often prayer has been some kind of spiritual contest to offer the most eloquent prayers. I love it when she says about our prayers, “patch a few words together and don’t try to make them elaborate, this isn’t a contest but the doorway into thanks.” 

I wonder if the disciples asked what they asked because they noticed that for

Jesus, prayer was always “the doorway into thanks.” Jesus tells his friends that prayer is not primarily utilitarian as are most of my prayers: “God, help me with this.” “God, we could sure use some of that.” “God, give us direction, give us a sign.” These utilitarian prayers are perfectly fine prayers, natural prayers, and are even a part of how Jesus teaches his disciples to pray:  “Give us this day our daily bread.” The front door into prayer though, says Jesus, is through “the doorway into thanks.”

When you pray, says Jesus, pray: “hallowed be thy name,” “thy kingdom come,” “thy will be done.” In other words, prayer is fundamentally not about us; it is about getting in sync with the One who cares for every last DNA strand of our being, for every blade of grass, for every creature that swims the seas, dances on the earth, and soars through the sky, and especially for those who are unnoticed and excluded and ridiculed just for who they are. In those moments when we find ourselves in sync with God and in step with Jesus, we find ourselves walking gladly through “the doorway into thanks.”

I have walked through “the doorway into thanks” almost every day since that April Sunday when you voted to call me to be your pastor. I have crossed that mysterious threshold giving thanks to God for Fran and Will, Beth Neville and Renee and Susan. Even before a call had been extended, I gave thanks to God for Jane and Greg, old friends, who helped me imagine myself as your pastor. I gave thanks for Josh who went out of his way to make sure that Cove never experienced anything but fine pastoral care and inspiring worship.

In a troubled world and when our lives are troubled, it is tempting to fast forward in our prayers, skipping over thanksgiving on our way to more pressing, utilitarian prayers. To quote Jesus, “lead us not into temptation.” Instead, may God give us wisdom to follow Jesus through “the doorway into thanks.” When we do, we cross over first into a silence in which “another voice may speak.” When our thanks is coupled with silence to listen for the voice of God, prayer becomes something more than a helpful habit of the faithful; it becomes the very doorway into life.

So, this is where I need you to help me finish this sermon. Some of us have been taught since childhood not to talk in church. Today, let’s set that custom aside and instead walk together through “the doorway into thanks.” First, I invite us to sit in silence so “another voice may speak.” Then, I invite us to offer our prayers of thanksgiving, followed by prayers asking God to intercede for others and then we will offer own prayers of petition to God.

So, let us together walk through the doorway into thanks as we come before God in a time of silent prayer . . .

O God, I give thanks for this call to serve as pastor of Cove Presbyterian Church, for the trust and confidence of the people of Cove, for my family that makes my ministry possible, and for those congregations over the years, to which you entrusted to my care.

Friends at Cove, as we walk through the divine doorway into thanks, for whom and for what do you give thanks . . .

Friends at Cove, for whom and for what concerns do we ask God to intercede today . . .

          Friends at Cove, what are your own petitions that you would bring before God this morning . . .