Sweet Hour of Prayer: Week 1
It wasn’t too long after Dana, the kids, and I arrived at my parents’ house earlier this summer that my mom handed me a small stack of papers.
I could tell by the age of the paper and the handwriting what they were. They were pages from my Grandma Kemp’s prayer journals.
“I made one last trip to Frank’s house before the auction and pulled out some pages that mention you and your brothers,” mom said.
You see, my mom’s younger brother Frank, who lived on the old family homestead, died suddenly last year and before the property was sold at auction this spring, my cousins invited the family to come and take whatever mementos or keepsakes they wanted.
My brother took some football cards.
My niece got Uncle Frank’s fishing tackle box.
My cousin found an old picture album that we passed around at our 4th of July cookout.
And my mom went through Grandma’s journals one more time.
I’ve mentioned Grandma and her journals in several sermons throughout my career because her example of spiritual devotion and practice still stands out in my mind.
Every day for fifty plus years, she spent time organizing her prayers by writing out who and what she was praying for.
She didn’t compose full prayers, mind you. She’d just write names and maybe a short note, a sentence or two about what was on her mind. She’s circle names as she prayed for them.
And those spiritual doodles hold a treasure trove of memories.
Thumbing through the pages mom handed to me, I saw references to illnesses and accomplishments, as well as other slice of life concerns of our family’s loving matriarch–things going on in our homes, our parents’ jobs, our grades and sports–the stuff that was on grandma’s mind as she read her Bible and drank her morning coffee.
And then, I saw the note that made me burst out laughing.
It was from the autumn of 1979. I was four years old, and, obviously, I’d been testing the patience of those who cared about it.
“Dear Lord,” my grandmother wrote, “please help little Jason to be stable.”
Now, no one remembers the exact circumstances that led Gram to pray that prayer, but we all have our guesses, and no one would’ve blamed Gram, either, if there were times when she questioned whether or not the Good Lord actually heard her.
I was a bit of a handful as a little kid.
Nevertheless, that’s a story for another day and another sermon, or another series.
But holding those papers in my hands, in addition to remembering what a wonderful grandmother I had, I couldn’t help but to feel a great sense of appreciation and admiration for the example she set as someone who prays.
Her prayers weren’t about buttering up God in order to get what she wanted. Neither were they about wallowing in shame and regret, as if God would regard any notion that she was more than a worthless clump of dirt as a damnable sign of pride.
No, Gram’s prayers were never so affected.
They were just the things that were on her mind and in her heart, and since she believed that God cared about her, then it seemed only natural that God would take an interest in those things, too.
That’s the example of prayer that I find most compelling.
We’re beginning a worship series this morning that invites us to think deeply about how we pray. Along the way, each week you’ll be given a chance to take an object in your hand–something like a cross or prayer beads–and, while holding it, you’ll be given a model prayer, too, to help you organize your thoughts and concerns, and to increase your ability to concentrate. We’ll also try to make connections between prayer and other things we do with our hands or bodies—crocheting, drawing, circling names on a paper—or things we do with our bodies—walking, working, exercise.
This emphasis on the “how” of prayer is an acknowledgment that, with all the stuff spinning around our minds and going on in our lives, we need a little more guidance in prayer than just being told to sit quietly, bow our heads, close our eyes, and talk to God.
That might be enough instruction for some of you, but for many–maybe even most–that’s just not going to cut it. We’ll end up thinking about a project at work, or our next trip to the grocery store, or what we’re having for lunch.
The mind does wander.
So, over the next few weeks, we’re going to talk much more than usual about how we pray.
But today, it’s really important that we begin with “the why” of it all.
So, why do we pray?
Because there are people, situations, tragedies, triumphs, aspirations, challenges, hardships, and celebrations on our minds and in our hearts, and since God cares about us, since God so loves the world, then it’s only natural that God would take an interest in those things, too.
Part of loving someone is being invested in what’s happening in their lives, and God is invested in you, and me, and this planet that we share with everybody else.
That is why we pray.
There’s a famous line about prayer in the oldest surviving letter written by Saint Paul. In First Thessalonians, the Apostle wrote,
“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” (5:16-18)Words we’ve read this morning echo this same thought.
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:4-7)Now, if anything less than love is the reason God invites us to pray, then calling us “to pray without ceasing” or to pray about “everything” is suffocating and oppressive.
If anything less than love motivates our prayer practice, then our prayers will be guarded, edited, fake, weak.
But prayer rooted in love, fed by love, sustained by love is free, open, powerful.
“To pray,” noted Father Richard Rohr, “is to practice that posture of radical trust in God’s grace, and to participate in perhaps the most radical movement of all, which is the movement of God’s Love.”
The lyrics of an old hymn describe the same truth.
Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, unuttered or expressed,Prayer, at its best, is an honest conversation.the motion of a hidden fire that trembles in the breast. (v. 1. “Prayer is the Soul’s Sincere Desire”)"
That’s why I appreciate the connection Paul makes in Philippians 4 between praying and experiencing the “peace of God, which surpasses all understanding.”
God’s peace is transcendent, but certainly we can relate it to the peace we’ve experienced by just being able to sit and talk for a while with the people we love and the people who love us.
Everyone in our family knew that Gram spent time praying and writing in her journal every morning, but maybe the best example she set in her prayer life was making her home a peaceful and loving place where all of us knew that we were always welcomed.
More than any model for prayer that you might learn, more than any object that you may grasp, what I want for you over the course of this series is a growing sense and a deepening appreciation for God’s love in your life.
I want you to know the peace of an honest conversation with God.
I want you to know that what’s on your mind and in your heart is enough to keep God interested.
I want you to know that the door will be opened because you are welcomed in God’s presence.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
