Sermon: God is not a gumball machine. (July 28, 2019)

Pentecost 7C

Proper 12

July 28, 2019

Luke 11:1-11

INTRODUCTION:

         Last week, in the story of Mary and Martha, we compared Martha, the eager to serve, distracted busy-body, to Mary, who sat at Jesus’ feet, ready to listen and take to heart whatever it was Jesus had to say to her. We talked about Mary’s action as a sort of discernment, even a prayer, as she comes to the Lord with a heart open and ready to hear Jesus’ voice.

         This week, we get to delve more into prayer. Directly following this encounter, Jesus himself will go to pray (something, incidentally, that he does more in Luke’s Gospel than all of the other Gospels combined!). The disciples will be so interested in that, that they will ask him, “Lord, teach us to pray.” They are hungry to be close to God, as Jesus is.

Our other texts today are also about prayer. In Genesis, Abraham will bargain with God, asking him again and again to save rather than condemn the people of Sodom and Gomorrah. “Come on, Lord, you don’t want to hurt innocent people,” he says. “Please, rethink your plan!” A classic prayer, right? “God, do this thing that I think would be better! Please and thank you!” And the Psalm gives thanks for the times when God has heard our plea, and responded. It’s a pretty strong theme today! So, as you listen to the readings, consider what your own prayers are like. Do you spend more time in prayer asking God for help with things, or thanking God, or confessing, or applauding God’s good work, or simply listening for guidance? What does it look or sound like when God responds (whether that response is a yes, or a no)? Where is your own prayer life strong, or where could it be stronger? Let’s listen.

[READ]

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

         Some years ago, I put together a Lenten series on prayer. Each week, we learned about a different way to pray – through art, yoga, coloring, and more. I bought and read a bunch of books about prayer, and tried out some ways of praying that were new to me. The congregation worked together to create a prayer book with some of our favorite prayers and ways of praying. Those who participated, and I especially, finished the series with a whole bunch of new and exciting ways of engaging in prayer, many of which I have since put into practice.

         And yet still, I hear this plea from the disciples, “Lord, teach us to pray,” and my heart leaps in agreement. I know the techniques. I can recite prayers or come up with one off the top of my head. I can pray with my mind, body, or spirit. Yet there is still some longing there that makes me resonate with this simple request: “Lord, teach us to pray.”

         I wonder if it is because there is some part of me that wonders if I’m doing it right. Have you ever wondered that? “If I’m praying right,” we may wonder, “Then why didn’t God give me the answer I was looking for? Did God even hear me? Did I pray hard enough, or faithfully enough? Or did God hear me, and the answer was no?” And then, if we get there, we wonder, “Why would God say no to such a loving and faithful request? Why wouldn’t God want to feed the hungry, or end violence, or heal my loved one, or bring my adult child back to the church? Why would the answer to these things be no?”

         I think we often see prayer as transactional – we ask, and we get something in return. And texts like today’s, with Jesus saying, “Ask, and you shall receive!” serve to solidify that image. As one preacher observes, this text invites us “to believe that God is a cosmic gumball machine into which we can insert our prayers like so many shiny quarters.” But then we grow up, and we discover that “ask and you shall receive” doesn’t really work out as often as we’d like it to, at least not in the way we had in mind. And maybe we get to the point eventually of throwing up our hands and thinking, “Why bother?? Are my prayers really making a difference? Do my measly prayers really have the power to change God’s mind about what’s going to happen?”

         Of course, there is a lot more to prayer than simply asking God for something, though I suspect prayers asking for help are the most common sort of prayers we utter. There is some part of us that does want God as our cosmic gumball machine, there to provide whatever we request. But I wonder if the disciples who watched Jesus pray that day saw that prayer could be something more than that. What is it that they saw in Jesus’ prayer that they were not experiencing themselves?

Well, I wasn’t there, of course, and Luke doesn’t tell us much, but I could venture a guess, based on my own experience with prayer, and my knowledge of Jesus. I suspect when they saw Jesus pray, they saw peace. Communion. Intimacy. Belonging. Trust. The sort of connection that leads to growth and transformation. Renewed vision. Perspective on life’s challenges. These are all things I long to experience in prayer! And so I can understand why the disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray. Teach ME these things, too, Lord! Teach me to be patient, when prayer does not result in immediately gratifying results. Teach me not to see prayer as a mere transaction, where I ask and God provides, like God is some sort of cosmic gumball machine. Teach me to confess being greedy for simple answers and quick gains. Teach me to see prayer not as a place to bring my laundry list of requests, but as a place to sit and rest and get to know God, and to be known by God. Teach me to pray!

         Jesus’ response to their request has been fodder for thousands upon thousands of books, sermons, workshops, you name it. It’s almost as if prayer is something that has been both gift and challenge to 2000 years worth of Christians, not to mention people of other praying faiths! I can barely scratch the surface in the next few minutes, so let me just say a couple things.

         First, in his answer, Jesus gives them permission to be bold in their prayer. “Seek!” he says. “Knock! Ask!” Don’t be shy! Tell God what it is for which you yearn, hunger, and passionately want. You may find that the mere act of asking may already be a part of the answer you seek. You see, when we can admit our needs to God, we can admit them to ourselves. And once they are named, we are one step closer to finding the peace, trust, communion, and transformation we crave. Jesus’ lesson here is a lesson of permission: permission to name our deepest longings, and acknowledge the desires that drive us.

Of course sometimes, we don’t even know what those longings and desires are. So how shall we discover them? Jesus accounted for that, too. That’s why he gave us the Lord’s Prayer, which is a lovely prayer just as written, but even more powerful when used as a tool and guide for deeper reflection. Each petition offers a window into our hearts. For example, “Give us each day our daily bread.” As Luther asks in the Small Catechism, “What does this mean for us?” It is a request for whatever we need each day to survive and be sustained. I think most or all of us here have our literal daily bread, but this petition invites us to go deeper and ask, “Where do I not feel sustained? What do I need that I am not getting? Where do I not feel full? Where in my heart am I feeling more diminished than full, like I’m barely pulling through each day?” Let these questions then guide your prayer. If you’re looking to spice up your prayer life, you could do this with all the petitions of the Lord’s Prayer – they are each rich in different ways. Use Luther’s Small Catechism as a guide to spur some questions, and then use those questions to guide your prayer. As you reflect on these questions, you can begin putting words to your longings, and can come to God asking, seeking, knocking persistently at the door for these things. When we start by acknowledging to God what those things are, we are better prepared to hear where God might be leading us toward an answer.

Yet that answer might not, finally, be the answer we were looking for, nor some sort of quick fix. Then again, God never promised to give us the answer we were looking for. Ask and you’ll receive – not, you’ll receive what you asked for. But you’ll receive what you need. Because Jesus does make a powerful promise in this passage – did you notice what it was? It’s right there in the last line: “how much more will the heavenly Father give… the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” God may not give physical healing, or answers, or wealth, but what God gives is far better and all that we could ever need: God gives his own self, his own loving, comforting, empowering, healing, life-giving self, to accompany us in our pain, and grief, and longing. God’s promise is not to fix it all, but rather, to be there with us in it.

Is that enough for us? Or are we more interested in getting stuff from God, rather than God himself? Do we want God the Great Fixer more than we want God to accompany us so that we would be strengthened and empowered to do our part to heal the world? I’ll be honest, sometimes I do. Yet even still I know, that the answers I think I want will never be as sustaining or life-giving as God’s presence with me will be. As long as God is with us, we will know love. As long as we recognize God’s presence with us, we will know peace. As long as the Holy Spirit is with us, we will see again and again how God turns our endings and sadness into joy and new life. This is the only answer, the only promise we will ever need.

Let us pray… Holy Spirit, come to us. When we seek answers and resolution and comfort and peace, come to us. When we are at our wit’s end with our problems, come to us. Grant us your peace, your strength, your comfort, and your life. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Hi, I'm Martha. (July 21, 2019)

Pentecost 6C

Proper 11

July 21, 2019

Luke 10:38-42

INTRODUCTION:

         Last week we heard from Luke the story of the Good Samaritan, which begins with the statement that we are to love the Lord our God with heart, mind, soul, and strength, and our neighbor as ourselves, and ends with that famous line from Jesus regarding being a good neighbor: “Go and do likewise.” Today’s story follows that encounter directly, but today, instead of focusing on the loving neighbor bit, we’ll see what it means to love God. In Martha we will see the “doing” part of loving God that many of us are so good at, but in Mary, as she sits at her Lord’s feet, we will see the listening part that sometimes comes less easily. So as you listen today, look for anything that might help you in the difficult work of listening to God. Where do you hear God? How do God’s word and God’s voice become apparent in your life? What in today’s scriptures speaks to you, or perhaps come through to you as something you need to hear from God this day? Let’s listen.

[READ]

Velázquez, Diego, 1599-1660. Christ in the House of Mary and Martha, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN.http://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=49140 [retrieved July 22, 2019]. Original source: http://www.yorckproject.de.

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

         While I was at camp at Lake Chautauqua this week with a couple of our youth, I had the chance to spend an afternoon at Chautauqua Institution across the lake and hear Father Richard Rohr speak. Among other things, he spoke about the transforming power of contemplative prayer, especially in the second half of life. Any of you ever try contemplative prayer? It’s a way a praying where you mostly listen, perhaps reading a passage of the Bible, finding a word or phrase that strikes you, and then sitting with that word of phrase to hear how God is working in your heart through that word of God.

         I find this way of prayer to be very difficult, for a number of reasons. One is that I’m kind of a Martha – too busy bustling around to sit and be patient to hear God’s word! Another reason is that, as Father Richard pointed out, this form of prayer can be very transformative, and while I like that in theory, in reality I know that transformation often comes after the Word weasels its way into the heart to reveal our deepest pains and insecurities, the very things we didn’t want to face. And that is very vulnerable and difficult, and well, convicting. I don’t want to face the ugly parts of my heart!

         But, after hearing Father Richard, I thought, “Maybe I should try out contemplative prayer with the Gospel text this week,” but then I looked at it and realized: I don’t have to sit quietly in prayer very long to find the Mary and Martha story to be convicting. It makes me squirm with the pain of of self-recognition right off the bat! I can imagine the scene: Mary sitting at Jesus’ feet, gazing at him adoringly, soaking up his peace and wisdom. Jesus delightedly sharing in this beautiful moment with a dear friend and disciple. And Martha, growing increasingly irritated, being less and less careful about how she puts down the dishes so as to make more and more noise, grumbling sarcasm under her breath, making faces at Mary behind her back – of course, I’ve never done any of those things! Finally, Mary laughs that sweet, carefree laugh of hers, and Martha just can’t take it anymore. She slams down the pot of stew and stomps into the room where Jesus and Mary are sharing their time together, and bursts out, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all this work by myself?! Tell her to help me!” She is indignant, and rightly so! Who does Mary think she is, just sitting around like a slug? Would Martha have liked to have sat and listened to Jesus? Of course! But this food doesn’t put itself on the table! And so her most immature sibling rivalry tendencies come to the forefront: “She doesn’t listen to me. YOU tell her to help me!”

         Jesus’ response is not what Martha hoped it would be. Surely, she thought, Jesus would take her side on this. He’s the one always talking about serving others, after all. She had heard about the scandalous story he had only just told, about the Samaritan helping that guy in the ditch. So if he was all about helping people like he said he was, then surely he would side with her on this, rather than her lazy sister. 

But he doesn’t. “Martha, Martha,” he says, “you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” Oof, can you imagine Martha’s face when Jesus says that? Something tells me she did not take this response with a smile.

         The something that tells me that, is my own feelings. My own shortcomings. My own conviction. My own recognition: that I am Martha in this story.

         “Johanna, Johanna, you are worried and distracted by many things.” Yes, Lord, I am! So you could tell? I mean, why shouldn’t I be? I’ve got a lot of things on my plate and a lot of people to love and care for. Of course I’m worried and distracted!

         “There is need for only one thing.” Only one thing, Lord? I find that hard to believe! Just which of my responsibilities can I put on the back burner at this point? None of them! They are all extremely important!

“Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken from her.” But Lord, Mary?? She’s just sitting there! She’s not doing any of the work, remember how I told you? All she’s doing is sitting there and listening to you and…

Oh.

And that, my friends, is where I am convicted by the Word. And where I suspect many of you are convicted as well.

Mary has chosen the better part, to sit at the feet of Jesus and simply listen. I see this as an expression of hospitality, and one of love, but perhaps most of all I see it as one of discernment. To take the time and just listen to Jesus, hear what he is saying to you and your life today, right now. That’s an awfully tall order in such a fast-paced world that puts so many demands on us. And they are reasonable demands, too: feed your children, go to work, clean and take care of yourself and your home, volunteer at these worthwhile organizations, even, go to church. Martha’s demands were reasonable ones, too. And yet, it is Mary who chose the better part.

So many of us identify as Marthas. In today’s world, it is almost a badge of honor. People ask, “How are you?” and the answer is, “Busy,” as if to say, “I’m important, and contributing a lot to the world.” We even try multi-tasking, to get as much done as possible (while, if we’re being honest, this results in doing none of those things as whole-heartedly or well as we might if we were more focused and intentional). And yet, busy and important as we are, it is Mary who chose the better part.

What is it that keeps us from being Marys instead of Marthas? What keeps us from taking the time to just sit and listen to God’s Word? Certainly there is a time and place to be Martha as well… but if you’re anything like me, you prefer being Martha because you find it easier to be Martha, to bustle around keeping busy, rather than take some time to listen and pray. All those distractions keep us from our worries, and if we do enough stuff, enough busy work, we don’t have to deal with whatever difficult thing is going on in our heart. Because the work of the heart is hard work. Hearing what God has to say to us can be extremely difficult, because often God doesn’t say to us what we want to hear. I mean, if I could sit at the feet of Jesus and always be sure he would shower me with affirmations and nice things and promises of prosperity, then I think it would be a delight to be a Mary. But instead, when we open ourselves to be addressed by God, make ourselves vulnerable before God, then we might have to face the fact that something has to change… that something in our life is not as God would have it be… that our focus has turned from godly things to worldly things and human desires.

I know there are always things like that about my life, because I am a sinner, just like all of you. And in prayer, in those times when we truly just listen to God, we often have to face them. And that is hard work. But even as this hard truth convicts us, God’s greater truth also nourishes us, redeems us, and promises us grace and love and forgiveness. Perhaps we get so bogged down by our worries and distractions that we miss that part. Perhaps we get so turned off by the revelation of our shortcomings that we forget to keep listening for the grace.

But friends, an encounter with Christ is always an encounter with grace. It is always in invitation into relationship – relationship with God, and by extension, relationship with others. It is always an experience in which we are, finally, lifted out of the despair of sin and into the holiness that is God’s love and forgiveness. An encounter with Christ is always a promise that we are God’s beloved children, not because of what we can get accomplished on any given day, or what important worries and distractions are driving us, but because God claimed us as God’s own, promising to be with us from now to the end of time. And that is something worth sitting at the feet of Jesus to hear.

Let us pray. Gracious and loving God, we are worried and distracted by many things, but there is need of only one thing: to sit at the feet of Jesus and listen to his Word and his promise. Help us to choose the better part, and to know that this will not be taken from us. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.