Not long ago Pastor Barb wrote a really poignant email about how tough things have been for her family, the community and herself recently. And this was topped off by news of Wells College closing. But in Barb’s writing, as always, there’s a sense of peace, of acceptance, concern for others and a felt prayer for shalom, or comfort in enduring. There’s a great lesson in Christian living in Pastor Barb’s example of how to deal with a tough road.
Each of our readings today comes from a place of turmoil and anxiety and pulses with a desire for comfort: Isaiah is living “among a people of unclean lips,” the Psalmist describes the Lord reigning over thunder and lightning, earthquakes and floods, Paul speaks of earthly fear and turmoil on our way to glory, and our Gospel reminds us that earthly things end by perishing, but “God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through Him.” We humans have been and still are a long way from God’s kingdom on Earth. So how do we get through? How do we move towards shalom?
Jesus has a lot to say about the road to peace - even in the presence of suffering. Let’s set Jesus’ divinity aside for a moment and look at Jesus as a man, a teacher. Jesus was a teacher and a very effective life coach. You know - not a shrink - but a life coach. Someone you go to for help sorting out life problems like decision-making, getting along better with family, friends, co-workers, challenges, career goals, purpose in life. Specific steps you can take to be happier. Stuff like that.
Look at Jesus life-coaching his first students. They were good Jewish tradesmen. Mostly fishermen. They kept the demanding ritual kosher diet, prayed multiple times each day and observed the full calendar of special holy days like most Jews. But we can sense that they didn’t feel at peace - something was missing, life was overwhelming. So when they saw Jesus praying, something must have seemed different about how He prayed, because they asked him, “Rabbi, teach us how to pray.” And he did. Jesus gave them the lesson in a nutshell. He gave them a short new prayer and explained it. Today we call this prayer, “The Lord’s Prayer.”
The first thing Jesus taught about prayer is, “Keep it short.” “Don’t go on babbling like the pagans who imagine the more words they say the better they will be heard. Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” No need to explain to God, let alone over-explain.
Then He taught them to pray this way: first, acknowledge the majesty, the awesome power, the rightness and justness of God and whatever God does or wills. Accept you are not in charge and God is. Then ask for only two things: Basic needs. And forgiveness.
It seems to boil down to two big asks: Need and Forgiveness.
We pray the Lord's Prayer so routinely it’s possible we overlook the meaning of these two requests. This is so different from what most of us pray for, isn’t it? We’re used to asking God for specific things. We politely ask God to answer very specific requests for us or for family, or neighbors, or friends, or for the world at large. We might ask for physical health, protection from disease, or victory, or success at a project, or protection from physical harm by others, or for world peace — or at least regional truce. Sometimes we ask for things we’d like to have, “cookies” of one sort or another: money, or success at a test or project, or fame. We’re always polite.
Mainly we want things to be different from what they are today and better than they are today. In short, we use a lot of words asking God to make life easier, more pleasant and less painful for us, for our loved ones and for the world.
If things seem to be going well, we thank God, and ask him to make sure nothing bad happens to derail the happiness we feel. But if things are going poorly, we tend to ask for an end to the cause of our suffering rather than for the grace and strength to endure the suffering.
Our readings today point out a different path. Psalm 29 sings of God’s powerful voice that strips the bark from the trees and makes nations dance like a frisky calf. God’s voice shakes the forests and thunders over the mighty waters. In his temple all cry GLORY. God is enthroned forever. And then the last two lines of the Psalm change gears. Quiet prayer, what God’s people yearn for and what God wants for his people. It’s not success. It’s not fame or to dominate others, or wealth and prosperity, not even health and long life. God’s not promising the end of turmoil. The Psalmist simply assures us the Lord will give strength to his people and asks the Lord to bless his people with Shalom. With a special kind of Peace, the peace of wholeness, integrity - this is holiness and justification. Freedom and forgiveness and the approval of our Creator.
In our first reading we’re shown a deep insight about forgiveness. The Prophet Isaiah shares an encounter with God’s awesome power and our unworthiness to even look at God. Isaiah saw the King of Creation seated on a colossal throne in an impossibly huge heavenly temple with winged angels flying around, praising the Creator so intensely the temple gates tremble and the temple fills with smoke. The prophet sees this absolute holiness and is stricken to the heart. He cries out, Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts!
In the presence of the truly holy Isaiah sees how “not holy,” how far from godly he and God’s people are. Seeing the truly holy, even this godly prophet comes to a clear awareness of his own shortcomings. He realizes the human trash and junk that springs up in his mind and comes out of his mouth, he judges himself not fit to live. He sees his hidden craving and envy and greed, and lust and fear and self-centeredness.
Isaiah doesn’t confess a specific sin. He confesses the weakness of his human nature. He confesses he is lost. Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips. But at the very moment Isaiah truly acknowledges his sinful human nature, God cleanses him of it.
God’s angel cauterizes Isaiah’s lips with a burning coal from the sacred fire. Becoming aware of his hidden human faultiness, regretting it, repenting it, he is forgiven it, it’s lifted from him, burned away, erased. Isaiah now stands in God’s court as a child of God. But now forgiven his old nature, when God asks, “’Who will go for us, who shall we send.’ Isaiah can answer, ‘Here am I; send me!’”
One purpose of practicing our religion is to make us aware of how unholy we are. We all do a general confession each week. It’s another ritual prayer that can easily become rote. At its heart, though, our confession is an acknowledgement and sincere wish to be freed from being the “canny animal” that we are, a cunning ape with imagination and language, manipulating and deceiving our way through the world. Asking for, confessing our need for forgiveness, repenting of our selfish or unloving actions is our second core prayer. God will forgive us, God will give us strength to forgive ourselves, God will even give us strength to forgive “life” for being scary, difficult, and tumultuous. When we are freed by forgiveness, we are free to accept God’s call to become a new creature, a child of God and participant in furthering God’s plan.
Paul’s letter to the Romans asks us to suffer as Christ suffered, with wholeness and serenity and endurance. We suffer with Christ so that we may be glorified with him. To confess is to ask for forgiveness and the strength to endure this suffering from which there is no escape. Life happens. We may be lucky one day and unlucky one day. That’s life. Not just for us, it’s true for everyone.
When we pray for strength to endure suffering and not be embittered by it, our prayer will be answered. When we pray for success, health, fame, wealth, when we pray for others to do what we think they should be doing, we run the risk of taking our eyes off the road. When we ask God to give us our daily bread, and to take away our temptation to want more than we need, we are on the right road.
Well, how about when we get a prayer request from friends or people in the congregation? Shouldn’t we pray to God for their specific needs to be met? Of course. I think we misunderstand the purpose of prayer lists. The lists are for us, not for God. God already knows the real need, and he knows the best outcome for each of us.
But now when we pray, we bring the person forward in our mind and express our love, and deepen our love for the person by lifting that person in love to God. In focusing on relief - Shalom - for others we widen our prayer beyond self-concerns. We are drawing closer to God which is what God wants. We are living God’s love here on earth. We fan the flame of love by placing concern for others before ourselves. One little step in creating God’s kingdom.
You see the sign waved at football games, “John 3:16.” “For God so loved the world that he gave his only son so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” Our gospel lesson today adds the next line, John 3:17. “Indeed, God did not send the son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
God sent Jesus to save us from being lost, to show us the way to happiness. Jesus wants us to find the way to a life of happiness and light in this world no matter what. This is the shalom, the wholeness and integrity of mind and soul that transforms our human suffering into love. A heart of forgiveness of others for their human nature, and forgiveness of ourselves for our own human nature. This confession unleashes love, and love is the key that unlocks the gate. The daily act of forgiving all men and women and children, including ourselves, this is the loving step into Shalom, the peace and happiness we are all looking for.
The last thing Jesus prayed before leaving his mortal body was to ask his Father to forgive us, for we knew not what we were doing. Church helps us realize what we are doing, and also what we truly need. Jesus’ last prayer on the cross has been answered in his Church.
Our prayer as the people of the Church might be, as Elizabeth Prentiss wrote in 1869, Once earthly joy I craved, Sought peace and rest; Now Thee alone I seek, Give what is best; This all my prayer shall be: More love, O Christ to Thee, More love to thee.
Let’s join together in that hymn. (number 828)