Tag Archives: The Lord’s Prayer

Preaching, Sermons

Heaven is the Place of God (which probably isn’t what any of us think it means) – A sermon for Ash Wednesday – Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on February 17, 2021

Livestream online worship at 7 p.m. this evening can be found on Augustana’s YouTube  page here.

[sermon begins after Bible reading]

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21  [Jesus said to the disciples:] 1“Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.
2“So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. 3But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, 4so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
5“And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. 6But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
16“And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. 17But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, 18so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
19“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; 20but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. 21For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

[sermon begins]

A couple of months ago, I preached about the choices we make about who we listen to in books, movies, politics, etcetera, and whether or not the voices we listen to point us to the light, to the voice of Jesus – a voice that promises grace, challenge, struggle, hope, and love of God, self, and neighbor.[1] A couple of days later, a parishioner emailed a recommendation for a favorite book series by Louise Penny.[2] Mysteries about the “light and dark in each person, love of family and community, laced with humor” went the email. Long story short, I’m on book seven. In the novels, Chief Inspector Gamache leads a crack team of homicide detectives. More importantly, he mentors them, teaching them the importance of using four key phrases, “I don’t know. I need help. I’m sorry. I was wrong.”[3] These four phrases bubble up in the series to consider the characters’ motivations and behaviors. The phrases are a good summary of Ash Wednesday too – I don’t know, I need help, I’m sorry, I was wrong. At least, it’s a good summary of the human side of the equation on Ash Wednesday.

It’s the human side of the equation that Jesus challenged his disciples about in the Gospel of Matthew reading. He challenged their motivations and behaviors as he told them not to engage in hypocritical rituals, practicing their piety on street corners in order to be seen by other people.[4] One sure way to make sure that’s absolutely not the case is to practice the rituals privately as Jesus then encouraged them to do. However, Jesus does assume that his disciples will give alms, pray, and fast. He said to the disciples, “When you give alms…; When you pray…; When you fast…” He reassured them that in their private moments of self-discipline and ritual piety of giving alms (also known as sacrificial giving), praying, and fasting, that God was with them – for which we can thank the grown-up bearded Jesus in these physically distanced times. We’ve relied heavily on God’s promise of presence in so many new and different ways over the last year.

A year ago, I’m not sure I would have believed you if you had told me that I’d be standing in front of the church building with Pastor Ann placing ashes on people’s foreheads outside of a worship service. I know I wouldn’t have believed you if you’d told me I’d be presiding over communion via online worship. But if there’s one thing I know about theology, it’s that it’s at its best when it ends up being quite practical. Speaking of practical, anyone wondering what the skipped verses in our reading from the Gospel of Matthew contains? The reading jumps from verse 6 to verse 16 without missing a beat. It’s okay if you’re not wondering about those missing verses. I’m going to let you in on the secret. Jesus teaches his disciples the Lord’s Prayer in those verses. Jesus says to his disciples:

Pray in this way:

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.

Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.

And do not bring us to the time of trial, but rescue us from the evil one.[5]

In the middle of his speech to the disciples about avoiding hypocrisy, Jesus gives them a practical prayer to help them do so – the Lord’s Prayer. We’re immersing in the Lord’s Prayer as a congregation during Lent guided by Rev. Dr. Stephen Cherry’s book, Thy Will Be Done.[6]

The Lord’s Prayer starts in heaven. Heaven, according to the prayer, is the place of God, some would even say the heart of God. Heaven is impossible to imagine although many of us have certainly tried. Time-limited, finite beings cannot comprehend the infinite. It’s a  physical impossibility. On Ash Wednesday, we lean into the place of God, into heaven, as we ponder our fragile mortality. “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return,” we hear as ashes mark the sign of the cross. The underlying promise is that God breathes life into dust. The cross shaped with ash echoes the cross placed on our foreheads in our baptism. While we’re leaning into the truth of our mortality, we’re also leaning through that mortality into the place of God, into the embrace of God. The cross symbolizes the reality that there is nothing we can do or not do to make God love us any more or any less. This means that when we take our last breath, God’s embrace holds us in heaven, in the place of God. This is God’s resurrection promise through the cross of Christ for our death someday, whenever our someday comes. But this isn’t only about someday.

Jesus says to his disciples, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal…For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”[7] Your heart will be in heaven, in God’s place, in God’s heart. Not only someday. TODAY. What are the treasures of heaven? Compassion, mercy, grace, forgiveness, generosity, and more. Treasures of heaven are the things that Jesus spends so much time challenging his listeners about in scripture. Practical things that we participate in right now. Or maybe they’re impractical. Not sure. We can argue about that another time. Regardless, treasures of heaven are unearned, undeserved, and permanent. They do not fade away and cannot be taken away. They are eternal. They are of heaven.

God’s promise, God’s side of the equation on Ash Wednesday, frees us into the challenges that Jesus gives his disciples, the challenges we take up today, continue through the six weeks of Lent, and in our lives of faith year-round.  A challenge of humility when we say, “I don’t know.” A challenge of imperfection when we say, “I need help.” A challenge of repentance when we confess to God and each other, “I’m sorry, I was wrong.”  We’re free to tell the truth because God promises us a place in the place of God, in heaven, today and someday. Thanks be to God, and amen.

__________________________________________________

[1] Caitlin Trussell. Sermon: “World Building with Light” with Augustana Lutheran Church on December 13, 2020. http://caitlintrussell.org/2020/12/13/world-building-with-light-john-6-8-19-28/

[2] Louise Penny official site – https://www.louisepenny.com

[3] Louise Penny. Still Life (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2005.), 84.

[4] Matthew 6:1

[5] Matthew 6:9-13

[6] Stephen Cherry, Dean of King’s College Cambridge. The 2021 Lent Book: Thy Will Be Done (London: Bloomsbury Continuum, 2021).

[7] Matthew 6:19-21

Preaching

Eating Is A Radical Act [OR The Lord’s Prayer: Give Us This Day Our Daily Bread] Luke 12:22-34, Isaiah 58:6-11a, Psalm 107:1-9, 1 Corinthians 10:16-17

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on August 6, 2017

[sermon begins after two Bible readings; other two readings are at end of sermon]

Luke 12:22-34  He said to his disciples, ‘Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. 23For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. 24Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds!25And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?26If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest? 27Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. 28But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! 29And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. 30For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. 31Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well. 32 ‘Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. 33Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. 34For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

 

Isaiah 58:6-11a

[The Lord says,] Is not this the fast that I choose:
to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the thongs of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke? 
7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them,
and not to hide yourself from your own kin? 
8 Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up quickly;
your vindicator* shall go before you,
the glory of the Lord shall be your rearguard. 
9 Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am.


If you remove the yoke from among you,
the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, 
10 if you offer your food to the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,
then your light shall rise in the darkness
and your gloom be like the noonday. 
11 The Lord will guide you continually,
and satisfy your needs in parched places,
and make your bones strong;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
like a spring of water,
whose waters never fail.

[sermon begins]

Thursday morning, Rob and I met our niece and her family of six for an early breakfast on their airport layover.  The kids range from small to school-aged.  We are named to be their legal guardians in the event of tragedy.  This legal reality deepens our times together over the muffin crumb carnage on the floor.  We shared stories, time, and food. In the language of the fourth petition of the Lord’s Prayer, we were given ‘this day our daily bread.’[1]

Later that morning, a radio interview with Judith Jones was re-aired, commemorating her death the day before at the age of 93.[2] She was a long-time book editor for the likes of Ann Frank’s diary, John Updike, Anne Tyler, and Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking.  Ms. Jones also published her own memoir cookbook after her husband of 45 years died – The Pleasures of Cooking for One.  In the interview, she talked about the pleasure of smelling garlic cooking, things sizzling, feeling at home again in her own kitchen, pouring a glass of wine, lighting candles, listening to music, honoring her past with her husband, feeling “happy, special, grateful.”  Again, because I was sermon writing in my head, my thoughts turned to ‘our daily bread.’

In the same news radio line-up was an update on the Venezuelan political crisis.  Towards the end of the report, a man was interviewed about the lack of meat available. Recently plentiful, nourishing meals have become rice and a few beans in the course of just a few years.[3] Again, my thoughts turned to ‘our daily bread.’

In my Facebook feed on Thursday morning were two different articles about food.  One was about the life-long challenges one author faces with food, body-acceptance, and health.[4]  Not too long later in the newsfeed was an article about the famine in South Sudan caused by drought and civil war.[5]  Again, my thoughts turned to ‘our daily bread” and the different ways food comes up in the day-to-day.

These experiences and information about food came through in one morning.  I wasn’t looking for them.  Although, thinking about ‘Our daily bread’ helped me hear them all differently.  All have bits and pieces of the big picture of food. The big picture?  There’s enough food for everyone in the whole world. Today. Right now.[6]  ‘Our daily bread’ for everyone is available if not for drought, war, and politics.

With real concerns about how to connect available food with hungry people we hear from the Gospel of Luke:

“And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. Instead, strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.”[7]

In light of hunger concerns, the Luke reading and Judith Jones’ food stories can first come off a bit like the princess who declared of the starving peasants, “Let them eat cake!”[8]  Telling someone who’s hungry that the Bible tells them not to worry about food is obscene.  This Luke reading is not part of the regular three-year lectionary cycle of Bible readings for Sundays. It follows Jesus’ parable – a cautionary tale of greed about a farmer with a bumper crop who builds bigger barns to store the crop rather than distributing it.[9]

In the Luke reading today, Jesus’ teaching moves beyond worrying to living, moves beyond greed to kingdom generosity.  The math is simple. People living generously means their neighbor lives with less need.  Living generously don’t mean only giving charitably, although, it does mean that too; it also means paying a living wage. Living generously means that we may go without something so that others may live.  Living generously means praying for our daily bread to include all people while shattering the cycle of generational poverty…working with people caught in that cycle…seeing dignity in all the children of God with whom we pray for ‘our daily bread.’

Martin Luther writes a thing or two about what we mean when we pray, “Give us this day our daily bread.”  In the style of the Small Catechism, we ask the question, “What then does daily bread mean?”  Here’s what Martin Luther taught in the 16th century was included in daily bread:

“Everything included in the necessities and nourishment for our bodies, such as food, drink, clothing, shoes, house, farm, fields, livestock, money, property, an upright spouse, upright children, upright members of the household, upright and faithful rulers, good government, good weather, peace, health, decency, honor, good friends, faithful neighbors, and the like.”[10]

That’s quite a list of pretty much everything our bodies might need to live well and to live in stability with the people around us.  Hunger and poverty are destabilizing to the extreme.  I often wonder what I would do if I were desperate to feed my family.  I imagine different scenarios that involve what people around the world and in my neighborhood are experiencing.  Would I migrate? Would I apply for SNAP benefits?  Would I work two jobs?  Would I steal?  Would I stand in line for hours?  Would I walk miles for water?  Would I starve to feed my children?  Very few of us know what we would actually do. I certainly don’t.  At this point in time, Rob and I have plenty to feed our family, seeing to our needs and then some.  We can eat and savor in the manner that Judith Jones talks about the pleasure of food.

Wendell Berry, author, poet, and farmer, writes that:

“Eating with the fullest pleasure…is perhaps the profoundest enactment of our connection to the world. We experience and celebrate our dependence and our gratitude, for we are living from mystery, from creatures we did not make and power we cannot comprehend.”[11]

Mr. Barry’s words caught me off guard in last week’s staff meeting devotion and conversation about Luther’s Table Blessing After Meals. (Pretty cool that we get to do those kinds of things as a church staff.)  I’d not thought much about eating as an experience and celebration of dependence.  If I’m honest about it, I think it surprised me because to my mind having food means having independence.  But that independence is a story made up out of whole cloth, an unconscious fiction that helps me sleep better at night. The Gospel of Luke would align with Mr. Barry.  Things like food and clothing are given by God and received by us.  There is nothing we create by ourselves. Sure, seeds can be planted but the ground for planting needs to be there first and seeds need to be garnered from plants that already exist.  See where this is going?  Eating is an act of utter dependence, whether it’s in desperate starving gulps or savoring sips.  We confess our dependence on the planet and on each other with every act of eating.

As Christians, every act of eating confesses our dependence on God. This includes our eating of Holy Communion.  We physically confess with our hands cupped and held out to receive the grace of God that we cannot create on our own.  “We are beggars, this is true.”[12]  We are dependent on the grace of God in Christ Jesus for all that we have, for all that we are, and for all that we can be to each other so that all people may eat and live.  As the prophet Isaiah reminds us, our light rises in the darkness as we offer our food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted; and the Lord guides us continually, making us like a spring of water whose water never fails.[13] Thanks be to God and amen.

[1] Sunday, August 6, is week three of five of Augustana’s sermon series on the Lord’s Prayer.

[2] Remembering Judith Jones. NPR Here and Now on August 3, 2017. http://www.wbur.org/hereandnow/2017/08/03/remembering-judith-jones

[3] For more on Venezuelan food shortages see “Banging on Empty Pots, Venezuelans Protest Food Shortages,” at http://www.reuters.com/article/us-venezuela-politics-idUSKBN18U0SO.

[4] Taffy Brodesser-Akner. Losing It In the Anti-Dieting Age. The New York Times. August 2, 2017. https://mobile.nytimes.com/2017/08/02/magazine/weight-watchers-oprah-losing-it-in-the-anti-dieting-age.html?smid=fb-share&referer=http%3A%2F%2Fm.facebook.com%2F

[5] Learn more about South Sudan famine and how to help at https://www.elca.org/en/Our-Work/Relief-and-Development/Lutheran-Disaster-Response/Our-Impact/South-Sudan-Relief

[6] Updated 2016 World Hunger and Poverty Facts and Statistics can be read at http://www.worldhunger.org/2015-world-hunger-and-poverty-facts-and-statistics/

[7] Luke 12:29-31

[8] http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/let-them-eat-cake.html

[9] Meda Stamper, Presbyterian minister in Leicestershire, England. Commentary on Luke 12:1-21 for Working Preacher on July 31, 2016 (a ministry of Luther Seminary in St. Paul, MN). http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2923

[10] Martin Luther. Luther’s Small Catechism in Free Indeed: Devotions for Lent (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 2016), 50.

[11] Luther, 91. “Table Blessing After Meals.”

[12] Last words attributed to Martin Luther on his death bed.

[13] Isaiah 58:10-11, paraphrased.

____________________________________________

Psalm 107: 1-9

O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
for his steadfast love endures for ever. 
2 Let the redeemed of the Lord say so,
those he redeemed from trouble 
3 and gathered in from the lands,
from the east and from the west,
from the north and from the south.*


4 Some wandered in desert wastes,
finding no way to an inhabited town; 
5 hungry and thirsty,
their soul fainted within them. 
6 Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress; 
7 he led them by a straight way,
until they reached an inhabited town. 
8 Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,
for his wonderful works to humankind. 
9 For he satisfies the thirsty,
and the hungry he fills with good things.

1 Corinthians 10:16-17  The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ?17Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread.

Preaching

God’s Kingdom and Will? No sweat. (OR The Lord’s Prayer: Thy Kingdom Come, Thy Will Be Done On Earth As It Is In Heaven) John 18:33-38 Romans 5:1-10 Jeremiah 29:11-13a Psalm 145:8-17

 

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on July 30, 2017

[sermon begins after two Bible readings; the two other readings may be found at the end of the sermon]

Romans 5:1-10   Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, 2 through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. 3 And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. 6 For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. 7 Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. 8 But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. 9 Much more surely then, now that we have been justified by his blood, will we be saved through him from the wrath of God. 10 For if while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God through the death of his Son, much more surely, having been reconciled, will we be saved by his life.

John 18:33-38  Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” 34 Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” 35 Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” 36 Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” 37 Pilate asked him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” 38 Pilate asked him, “What is truth?”

[sermon begins]

There’s a kind of conversation that happens when two people think they’re clear as a bell and really there are two different conversations happening at the same time.  My husband and I had one of those just the other day.  Rob had to leave the house early to meet clients in Cheyenne.  Before he hopped in the shower, he said to me, “Don’t turn off the coffee pot, okay?”  My clear-as-a-bell reply was, “How many cups of coffee have I had?”  He tipped his head a bit at me with that classic expression that silently asks, “Whaaat?!”  I made perfect sense to myself because I was wondering how likely it would be that I would even think about turning off the coffee at that early hour.  Meanwhile, Rob just needed quick reassurance that the coffee pot would remain on while he rallied to leave.  Twenty-seven years into our relationship and there are still moments of confusion in the small and big conversations.

The dialogue between Jesus and Pontius Pilate falls into the big conversation category.  Any prior relationship or benefit of the doubt or warm laughter between them is unlikely.  This is serious business. Jesus is on trial.  Pilate summons him to a private conversation after questioning the people who brought him in.  Jesus is brought to Pilate for a legal verdict.  Honestly?  He’s brought to Pilate for a guilty verdict. Pilate is caught between the crowd, Roman law, job security, and Jesus’ innocence. Whatever you may think of his actions, Pontius Pilate is a compelling character. His question about truth is compelling.  And it’s a very old question.  “What is truth?”  Great question all on its own.  Philosophers and neuroscientists have a field day talking about the origins of reality and truth.

“What is truth?” is also a great question when it comes to God’s kingdom and will.  There are lots of people who invoke God’s will for all kinds of things. The good that happens?  God’s will. The bad that happens?  God’s will. I’m more cautious when it comes to claiming God’s will.  This caution is due to something called bondage of the will.  Bondage of the will means that the human inclination is to think about the self first and think about everything else second. Including God.  Not only are we anthropocentric thinking that humans are the center of all reality; I am self-centered thinking that I am origin of truth.  There’s a Latin expression for this self-centeredness. Incurvatus in se. The expression means that we are curved in on ourselves.  In Christianity, we could say that the cross pulls our noses out of our belly buttons aligning us with God and God’s kingship.

God’s kingship brings us to the second petition of the Lord’s Prayer.  “Thy kingdom come.”  Martin Luther writes, “In fact, God’s kingdom comes on its own without our prayer, but we ask in this prayer that it may also come to us.”[1]  To think about the kingdom, we look at the king.  Pilate asks Jesus, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus deflects the question by answering with a question.  Pilate then asks Jesus, “What have you done?”  Jesus responds, “My kingdom is not from this world…”  Ah, Pilate thinks he has Jesus now.  “So you ARE a king?”  Again, Jesus hedges his answer by saying that he “came into this world to testify to the truth.”  Once again, two people having two different conversations at the same time.  Although, for our purposes today, Jesus does point us toward his kingdom.

Jesus’ kingdom talk is interesting.  Pilate isn’t off-base asking about a king when Jesus testifies that his kingdom is not from this world.  Asking for the identity of the king makes sense.  The problem is that this king is unlike other kings.  This king is standing trial in front of an insignificant governor of an obscure Roman outpost.  This king isn’t rallying power to fight and win.  This king is surrendering.  He is preparing for the ultimate self-sacrifice on behalf of friends and enemies alike.  This king reveals the breadth of divine power poured out in the depth of divine love.[2]  Jesus testifies to his kingdom with unexpected behaviors for a king. Unexpected behaviors for a king but perhaps not unexpected behaviors for THIS king.  Remember that this king spent his time on earth meeting with outcasts and strangers, healing the untouchables, feeding the hungry, and offending the powers that be by calling for love of God, neighbor, and enemy.  Remember that he ends up offending almost everyone.  Remember that he gets killed for his kingdom’s work, proclamation, and ministry.

In his ministry, Jesus teaches us to pray the third petition, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”  Martin Luther writes, “In fact, God’s good and gracious will comes about without our prayer, but we ask in this prayer that it may also come in and among us.”[3] Dr. Alicia Vargas writes that this in this prayer “we acknowledge our obedience to divine authority.”[4]  We pray that our own will yields to God’s will as sovereign, as king.

God’s kingdom and will seem to be revealed through Jesus’ kingdom ministry and inevitable execution which gives one possibility as we pray for God’s will. God’s will is for God to love us.  God’s will is first about God and what God is doing through Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit.  God creates, sustains, shows up, dies, and lives again in love for us.  In verse 5 of the Romans reading, the Apostle Paul says it this way, “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.”[5]  The love of God is revealed in and among us…the church…the body of Christ in the world. God commissions us through baptism to the ministry and proclamation of this good news.

So, God’s will is first for God to love us.  Not just some of us.  All of us.  I remember when this became shockingly clear to me. Six or seven years ago I was at a middle school volleyball tournament.  The seating for fans was in an oval one level above the game on the floor.  It was packed.  It was loud.  I remember looking around at everyone there – mixed in age, race, and class, faces scrunched up and lungs unleashed in competitive intensity.  And I remember thinking, God loves all you people.  I found this remarkable.  Stunning, really.  Feel free to try this yourselves at any sporting event.  Or at any time really. Look around school.  God loves all those people.  Look around work.  Look around government.  God loves all those people.  Look around the grocery store and the gym.  God loves all those people.  Look around your neighborhood and your home.  God loves all those people. You see them.  God loves them.

Look around these pews.  God loves all you people.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

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[1] Martin Luther. Luther’s Small Catechism in Free Indeed: Devotions for Lent (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 2016), 44.

[2] Dr. Craig Koester said this repeatedly during in his class on The Gospel of John, Fall 2010.  Luther Seminary.

[3] Martin Luther, 46.

[4] Alicia Vargas, The Third Petition in Free Indeed: Devotions for Lent (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 2016), 46.

[5] Romans 5:5

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Jeremiah 29:11-13a  For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. 12 Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you. 13 When you search for me, you will find me.

Psalm 145:8-17   The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.  9 The Lord is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made. 10 All your works shall give thanks to you, O Lord, and all your faithful shall bless you. 11 They shall speak of the glory of your kingdom, and tell of your power, 12 to make known to all people your mighty deeds, and the glorious splendor of your kingdom. 13 Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and your dominion endures throughout all generations. The Lord is faithful in all his words, and gracious in all his deeds. 14 The Lord upholds all who are falling, and raises up all who are bowed down. 15 The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food in due season. 16 You open your hand, satisfying the desire of every living thing. 17 The Lord is just in all his ways, and kind in all his doings.

Sermons

Luke 11:1-13 “…and yet, I pray”

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Luke 11:1-13 “…and Yet, I Pray”

July 28, 2013 – Caitlin Trussell

Augustana Lutheran Church, Denver, CO

 

Luke 11:1-13 He was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” 2 He said to them, “When you pray, say: Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. 3 Give us each day our daily bread. 4 And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. And do not bring us to the time of trial.” 5 And he said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, “Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; 6 for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.’ 7 And he answers from within, “Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.’ 8 I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs. 9 “So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. 10 For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. 11 Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? 12 Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? 13 If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

 

As an adult, I spent a several years outside the church before being captured by grace through the Lutheran tradition.  There’s a lot I can say about that time but one of the most curious things to me is that I continued to pray.  Specifically, this means that I said a lot of quick things to God – flash prayers if you will.  Things like, “Please!” and “Seriously?!”  Occasionally these prayers were simply crying or sometimes I would laugh at God ala the likes of Sarah in the book of Genesis.[1]  I find this all very curious because, at the time, I wasn’t even sure who God was.  But how I prayed, and what I prayed, spoke volumes.  How we pray gives us a lot of information about who we think God is and how we think God moves in the world.  Maybe even more curiously, how we pray and whether we pray gives us a lot of information about how we see ourselves in relationship with God.

Theologians and church-types love to talk about what happens when we pray.  Dissecting it into parts and giving us theories on how prayer works and how it doesn’t work and how God works in the midst of prayer.  Out of all of those theories, some which come from tangling with our text in Luke today, I haven’t found one that is intellectually satisfying.  I have prayed desperate prayers and silly prayers and everything in between to all kinds of outcomes.  So the outcome of prayer is simply a mystery to me.   The mystery of prayer is especially true when my or someone else’s world is torn apart by loss.  And yet…and yet…I pray.  I continue to pray desperate prayers and silly prayers and everything in between.

My prayers have been added to in both content and form from the flash prayers – although I still use those too.  But much more importantly, I simply became comfortable praying.  So much so that now guess what happens at the start of a church meeting or meal…yup, you guessed it – “Pastor, will you pray for us?”

What happens at a church meeting or meal or gathering when the pastor says, “Would anyone like to pray for us?”  … … … … …  Exactly!  Crickets.  Because of this response, I hear the disciples’ demanding, “Lord, teach us to pray,” and Jesus’ answer to them, as good news.  They demand to be taught and he teaches them.  Notice that when the disciples ask Jesus to teach them to pray he doesn’t launch into a three-point didactic instruction with power-point.  He doesn’t say things like, “Well, first you have to have a good theological understanding of the intersection between God and faith and the world.  None of that!  He simply prays.  What might this mean?  Perhaps that prayer can be learned.  Not as technical proficiency but, much more importantly, disciples can simply become comfortable praying through the practice of prayer.  So when someone says that they can’t pray there is a possibility that it could feel differently for them.   I have a good friend who said to me a long time ago that praying out loud is like chewing rocks. Now my friend is a lay assisting minister in her congregation and is praying the Prayers of Intercession…out loud!

The prayer that Jesus teaches the disciples is the prayer we pray together as “The Lord’s Prayer” during worship.  It is a corporate prayer; meaning that all of us, the whole body of Christ, pray this prayer together and on each other’s behalf.  Some of us widen the net a bit with this prayer and pray it in the morning before we get out of bed or on airplanes when the weather is bad.  This is a go-to prayer.  This is a prayer that has served the faithful for over 2,000 years and will continue to serve the faithful long after we’re gone.  We pray this prayer with our ancestors and with those yet to come.  This is THE most persistent prayer of the body of Christ.

During worship we also pray with the worship leader who prepares and prays the Prayers of Intercession when we “pray for the church, those in need, and all of God’s creation.”  This is a prayer for yesterday, today, and tomorrow – the concerns of now, this week.  The person who leads us in this prayer names names and gives voice to individual and community worries, wonderings, events, gratitude, praise, and so much more.  Week after week, like Abraham, we approach God in humble determination with petitions of prayer, holding God accountable to be God.[2]  Our prayers offer hope and healing in Jesus Christ just as we’re encouraged to do by Augustana’s mission statement.[3]

The point is that we already are praying and we pray well together.  So I’ve been wondering what it could look like if we, as the body of Christ, turned toward each other and continued praying on the foundation of our Sunday prayers and beyond.  In essence, turning toward Jesus and saying, “Lord, teach us to pray.”  And rather than a prayer tutorial, we simply begin praying more.  We practice.  I’m so curious about what this could look like that I’ve invited a team of Augustana people to wonder about this with me as part of something called Augustana Praying Project; so named because we are actively praying as well as working on different ways to pray – some that will work in our lives together and some that won’t.  Augustana Praying Project will take shape over time and change shape over time responding to the different needs people have and the different ways people pray.

I also wonder how much our practice of prayer, as David Lose suggests, “attunes ourselves to God and to our shared life.”[4]  In all that we bring to God in prayer, we are essentially putting our lives through the filter of faith.  Prayer as a connecting point between our lives of faith and our daily life gives us language for both.  So, at the very least, perhaps prayer creates fluid connections between the faith we claim as Christian people on Sundays and our lives as Christian people throughout the week.[5]

The disciples demand, “Lord, teach us to pray…”  When Jesus teaches his disciples to pray, his prayer attunes them with God our Father and with each other and “our” needs.  Prayer, as Jesus instructs it, is highly relational even as it’s spoken by a single person.  We are set free into this prayer as our Lord Jesus teaches us to pray by praying.  We are also set free to pray our daily concerns so that our prayer reflects this life we live connected with this God in whom we have our being.

Thanks be to God!


[1] Genesis 18:1-15 – Hebrew Bible lectionary reading for July 21, 2013.

[2] Genesis 18:20-32 – Hebrew Bible lectionary reading for today, July 28, 2013.

[3] Augustana Lutheran Church, Denver, CO.  Mission Statement: Guided by the Holy Spirit we gather in Christian community, reach out and invite, offer hope and healing in Jesus Christ, and walk humbly with God.

[4] David Lose.  “What is Prayer?” Blog: …In the Meantime, February 2013.

Find full post at:http://www.davidlose.net/2013/02/what-is-prayer/

[5] Ibid.