Text: Psalm 19:14
"Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable
to you, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer."
When President Ulysses S. Grant left the presidency he was financially a broken man. He had trusted the wrong people and they had stolen all his investments. His family had nothing. So he wrote his memoirs and paid back all of the debts he'd incurred and was able to leave his family well secured after his death.
But during those hard days of writing and trying to keep going financially, Grant developed cancer of the tongue, which would finally take his life. One of the great stories of courage is the battle that General Grant fought with cancer.
One day a friend of his, General Howard, came to visit the ailing Grant. Howard hoped to cheer up his very sick friend. So the general began to talk to Grant about the great battles they had fought in together. This conversation did no good. Grant jus sat there depressed. Finally, Grant put up his hand, shook his head, and said, "Howard, tell me something about prayer." (1)
Today I will begin a series of sermons on prayer. I don't know yet how many sermons there will be in this series. There is a mountain of material. Next week our subject will be "What Prayer Is Not." Some future sermons will include a series on "The Lord's Prayer," "The Lord's Other Prayers, " "How To Pray," "The Prayer of Jabez," "Corporate Prayer," and "Unanswered Prayer." I think I have enough subjects to last all summer, maybe longer.
But first, I must offer a disclaimer regarding the presumption of preaching on prayer. I must tell you that most of my ministry has not been a matter of sharing my expertise, but of sharing my quest. That is especially true about prayer. This series of sermons is primarily for me. I preach on prayer because I want to learn more about prayer. I want to learn to pray.
I think I got into ministry in the first place out of a personal quest to answer my own questions. Most of what I have done here has been for my benefit more than yours. Most of my sermons are simply sharing my struggles on this pilgrimage of faith. Our recent small group studies have been based strictly on what I needed to study. The Disciple Bible Study was a refresher course in the whole Bible that I needed. Christian Believer was a review of the classic Christian doctrines that I needed. And now my sermon series on prayer is aimed more at me than at you.
I do not feel like an expert on prayer, but I do have some good books on the subject from which I hope to learn. The stack of books on my desk includes works by the authors I respect the most: George Buttrick, Donald Baillie, Richard Foster, Watchman Nee, Harry Emerson Fosdick, Georgia Harkness, John Killinger, and Walter Wangerin.
The most recent book I purchased is a compilation of the writings of Henri J. M. Nouwen on prayer entitled The Only Necessary Thing, and from which I got the title of this sermon. (2) Is prayer the only necessary thing? I haven't decided for sure, but it may well be.
Harry Emerson Fosdick wrote these words in the preface to his book,
The Meaning of Prayer:
"Prayer is the soul of religion and failure there is not a superficial
lack for the supply of which the spiritual life leisurely can wait.
Failure in prayer is the loss of religion itself in its inward and dynamic
aspect of fellowship with the Eternal. Only a theoretical deity is
left to any man who has ceased to commune with God, and a theoretical deity
saves no man from sin and disheartenment and fills no life with a sense
of divine commission. Such vital consequences require a living God who
actually deals with men." (3)
John Killinger begins his book on prayer with this paragraph:
"If there is one sin that hurts us more than all others, it is surely
the sin of not praying. We are meant to live in the Spirit of God
to live joyously, vibrantly, and lovingly in the world. But if
we do not pray we cannot live in the Spirit. It is as simple as that.
We lack the daily connection to God that would make such a wonderful life
possible." (4)
If we love God, we will pray. Prayer is all about a love relationship.
St. Augustine said, "True, whole prayer is nothing but love." (Prayer,
Foster, p. 1) In "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner," Samuel Coleridge
declares, "He prayeth well, who loveth well." (Prayer, Foster, p. 3)
Prayer touches on almost every area of the Christian life and Christian theology. Prayer is like a thermometer of our relationship with God. If you don't pray, then you don't have a relationship with God. If you don't pray, you don't really have faith. Prayer is a good way to measure our spiritual lives.
Richard Foster says, "Prayer ushers us into the Holy of Holies, where
we bow before the deepest mysteries of the faith, and one fears to touch
the Ark." (5)
Our text for today from Psalm 19:14 can serve as a great introduction
to the subject of prayer: "Let the words of my mouth and the meditation
of my heart be acceptable to you, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer."
Let's look at the words of this sentence in reverse order. First, we find that God is our rock and redeemer. Archimedes once said that if he could find a place to stand he could move the world. We have that place God is the Rock and Redeemer. He is our firm foundation.
Making our way back up the sentence we find the key word "acceptable." "Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord "
Paul Tillich once preached a famous sermon on the idea, "You are accepted." Our deepest need is to know that we are accepted by God. We all need great grace to touch our words, thoughts, and even the subconscious elements of our lives. Our great hope is that what we bring, flawed though our lives may be, will find an acceptance in God's eyes.
Next we find "Words & Meditation." Our words and our meditation are uniquely ours. In prayer, we bring OUR words, thoughts and deeds before God. In prayer, we are really throwing our innermost selves at the feet of God. And the Psalmist proclaims the Good News that they are accepted by God.
During the terrible days of the Civil War, President Abraham Lincoln said, "Again and again, I am driven to my knees. There is no other place to go."
At the beginning of this year, I felt a need to address the subject of prayer. I felt that this needed to be the year of prayer for our church. As I have already stated, this desire comes partly out of my own need. But I also have a deep sense that this is a need for our church. I am not the only one who needs to learn more about prayer; we all do.
My desire that we become a praying church. My desire that all of our members learn how to pray and make prayer a strong discipline in our Christian walk with God.
Almost everyone says they believe in prayer, but I don't think many people really pray. Maybe they don't know how to pray. Maybe they just don't take the time to pray.
I am concerned about the pastor becoming the professional pray-er for
the congregation.
I remember my shock when I first came to this church and discovered
that your order of worship required me to say five prayers in each service.
I have since found that it is the pastor who is expected to pray before
Sunday School, before every meal, and before and/or after every meeting
of this church.
Perhaps you call on me to pray so much because you think I am an expert
in prayer. I am not. Perhaps you call on me to pray because
you think I expect it. I do not.
Perhaps you call on me to pray out of a common courtesy. I don't
expect it.
Perhaps you call on me to pray because you are afraid to pray or are
uncomfortable praying. We need to fix that.
The only way to overcome a fear of praying aloud is to practice praying
aloud.
But, friends, I am not the professional pray-er for the congregation.
We are in this together. We all must be pray-ers.
For the next three months, I am going to refuse to pray when you call on me. This will shock some of you because you naturally expect the pastor to do what you ask him to do, especially if it means leading in prayer. And it may seem strange for me to refuse to pray when I am focusing the whole summer on prayer. It is not because I don't want to pray, but because I want you to pray. We must learn prayer from one another. I need to hear you pray. You need to hear one another pray. You hear me pray too much.
I conclude with a remarkable story told by Eugene Peterson in the foreword to Walter Wangerin's book on prayer:
"In the last half of the nineteenth century, John Muir was our most intrepid and worshipful explorer of the western extremities of our North American continent. For decades he tramped up and down through our God-created wonders, from the California Sierras to the Alaskan glaciers, observing, reporting, praising, and experiencing entering into whatever he found with childlike delight and mature reverence.
"At one period during this time (the year was 1874) Muir visited a friend who had a cabin, snug in a valley of one of the tributaries of the Yuba River in the Sierra Mountains a place from which to venture into the wilderness and then return for a comforting cup of tea.
"One December day a storm moved in from the Pacific a fierce storm
that bent the junipers and pines, the madronas and fir trees as if they
were so many blades of grass. It was for just such times this cabin
had been built: cozy protection from the harsh elements. We easily
imagine Muir and his host safe and secure in his tightly caulked cabin,
a fire blazing against the cruel assault of the elements, wrapped in sheepskins,
Muir meditatively rendering the wildness into his elegant prose.
But our imaginations, not trained to cope with Muir, betray us. For Muir,
instead of retreating to the coziness of the cabin, pulling the door tight,
and throwing another stick of wood on the fire, strode out of the cabin
into the storm, climbed a high ridge, picked a giant Douglas fir as the
best perch for experiencing the kaleidoscope of color and sound, scent
and motion, scrambled his way to the top, and rode out the storm, lashed
by the wind, holding on for dear life, relishing Weather; taking it all
in its rich sensuality, its primal energy." (6)
That wonderful story captures the spirit of my challenge to you as
we broach the subject of prayer together. I invite you to join me
as we move out of the safety and comfort of the cozy cabin. Together
I want us to venture out into the howling winds of the Spirit. I
want us to take the risk of immersing ourselves in prayer. To experience
the full fury of prayer.
Robin Myers, pastor of the Mayflower Congregational Church of Oklahoma City, once said, "To pray is to move into the depths without consideration for how long we can tread water." (7)
Let's go out into the storm, grab a giant fir, and hold on for dear
life. Let's move out of the shallows into deep water.
Prayer It really is the only necessary thing.
Endnotes:
1) Cox, James, ed., Ministers Manual for 1997, Harper & Row, 1996,
p. 286.
2) Nouwen, Henri J. M., The Only Necessary Thing, edited by Wendy Wilson
Greer, Crossroad Publishing: New York, 1999.
3) Fosdick, Harry Emerson, The Meaning of Prayer, Association Press:
New York, 1951, p. ix.
4) Killinger, John, Beginning Prayer, Upper Room Books, Nashville,
1993, p. 11.
5) Foster, Richard J., Prayer: Finding the Heart's True Home, Harper:
San Francisco, 1992, p. xi.
6) Wangerin Jr., Walter, Whole Prayer, Zondervan, 1998, p. 9-10.
7) From an unpublished sermon by Robin R. Meyers entitled "Prayer:
It's Not Magic," October 19, 1997, posted at www.mayflowerucc.org.