{"id":12373,"date":"2016-10-06T20:15:07","date_gmt":"2016-10-07T02:15:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/admin.patheos.com\/blogs\/holyrover\/?p=12373"},"modified":"2016-10-07T05:50:52","modified_gmt":"2016-10-07T11:50:52","slug":"sick-cats-grumpy-grandmothers-and-unanswered-prayers","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/holyrover\/2016\/10\/06\/sick-cats-grumpy-grandmothers-and-unanswered-prayers\/","title":{"rendered":"Sick Cats, Grumpy Grandmothers, and Unanswered Prayers"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

\"Mulberry Tree\" by Vincent van Gough (Wikimedia Commons image)
\u201cMulberry Tree\u201d by Vincent van Gough (Wikimedia Commons image)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/p>

Today\u2019s post is adapted from a sermon I gave on Sunday at New Song Episcopal Church <\/a>in Iowa.<\/em><\/p>\n

In the Gospel reading this morning, we heard another in a long line of seemingly impossible statements Jesus makes about faith. This morning, it was that if we have faith the size of a mustard seed, we could say to a mulberry tree, be uprooted and planted in the sea and it would obey us. At other times, Jesus tells us that faith can move mountains. It can heal the blind, cure the sick, and make the lame walk. All we need to do is ask and it will be given to us.<\/p>\n

Frankly, these are the sort of promises that made many of Jesus\u2019 contemporaries think he was crazy. And they are stumbling blocks for us as well. For it seems very clear, once we start looking around, that faith does not<\/em> fix everything. Many people of great faith and great goodness have terrible things happen to them. They\u2019ve prayed and prayed and prayed. And yet their faith didn\u2019t move mountains or fix what was broken in their lives.<\/p>\n

So what are we to do with this paradox? Who do we believe, Jesus or our own eyes?<\/p>\n

It\u2019s an appropriate Sunday to talk about prayer, for a couple of reasons. One is that today is the anniversary of the founding of New Song\u201422 years ago, a lot of people\u2019s prayers were answered when this church held its first services. The second is that this morning we\u2019re dedicating a new addition to our church: a prie-dieu, which is a French word I\u2019m only going to say once because I know I\u2019m pronouncing it wrong. At New Song we\u2019re going to call it a prayer desk. Starting this Sunday, after receiving communion people can go over to the prayer desk and kneel. A healing minister will ask what they want to pray for, will offer a prayer on their behalf, and then will anoint them with oil.<\/p>\n

When I was a deacon at Trinity we launched a similar ministry, and during my years there I grew to love serving as a Healing Minister on Sunday mornings. During those brief interludes in the middle of a service, I remember getting many glimpses into the private lives of parishioners. Sometimes people would come with thanksgivings, but most of the time they came because they were in need. On their behalf I prayed for upcoming surgeries, for siblings struggling with addictions, and for marriages that were crumbling. Kids would often bring prayers that made me smile: we prayed for sick cats and grumpy grandmothers, for a win in that day\u2019s soccer game and upcoming vacations. I remember once being asked by a five-year-old to pray for a new car because he was tired of the old one. I did so, happily.<\/p>\n

\"I
I loved these candles in a prayer alcove in a church in Vienna (Lori Erickson photo)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

What I loved is how trusting people were when they came to the prayer alcove. It\u2019s so easy to get cynical in this world, because we all get disappointed again and again. But in those few minutes while we\u2019re kneeling, everything seems possible. The cancer will go into remission. The lost will find their way. The mountain will move.<\/p>\n

Prayers like this say to the universe, \u201cI\u2019m going to hit pause on my worrying. Just for this time, I\u2019m going to believe that my life can be different, that the world can be different.\u201d<\/p>\n

When Jesus says to us, \u201cCome to me, all you who are burdened and weary, and I will give you rest,\u201d I think he\u2019s talking about prayer. Because goodness knows most of the time, following him means a lot of work and a lot of trouble. But not in prayer. In prayer we get to lay our burdens down.<\/p>\n

Over the years, one of the things I\u2019ve come to appreciate about prayer is how varied it is. I think we sometimes forget about all the types of prayers available to us. There are complex prayers and simple prayers, prayers of the breath and prayers of the intellect, prayers when we say a single word over and over again and others that can take hours and require candles and clouds of incense and many people wearing fancy robes.<\/p>\n

One of my favorite prayers is so gloriously complicated and convoluted that it\u2019s hard to understand the first time you hear it. It\u2019s also so Roman Catholic that you probably won\u2019t like it if you\u2019re more low church in your leanings. But I love it, in part because of its first word: Remember. In fact, it\u2019s called the Memorare, which is Latin for Remember. It\u2019s addressed to the Virgin Mary. It\u2019s really a nagging sort of prayer, reminding her of what she needs to do, though it\u2019s couched in the most flowery of language. It goes like this:<\/p>\n

Remember, O most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thine intercession was left unaided.<\/em><\/p>\n

Inspired by this confidence, I fly unto thee, O Virgin of virgins, my mother; to thee do I come, before thee I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy hear and answer me.<\/em><\/p>\n

When I say this prayer, I feel like I\u2019ve prayed<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\"Image
Image of Mary from Sedona, Arizona (Bob Sessions photo)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

But the wonderful thing about prayer is that you can pretty much say anything. You can rage at God. You can use swear words. You can just sit there and cry. It\u2019s all prayer. It\u2019s all a variation of saying, \u201cI can\u2019t do this on my own. I need help.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anne Lamott wrote a wonderful book about prayer called Help, Thanks, Wow: The Three Essential Prayers<\/a><\/em>. Most prayers, she writes, are just variations of these three. Help. Thanks. Wow. In it she\u00a0writes:<\/p>\n

Prayer is talking to something or anything with which we seek union, even if we are bitter or insane or broken. (In fact, these are probably the best possible conditions under which to pray.) Prayer is taking a chance that against all odds and past history, we are loved and chosen, and do not have to get it together before we show up. The opposite may be true: We may not be able to get it together until after we show up in such miserable shape.<\/em><\/p>\n

I\u2019m going to pick on Bob next, but I\u2019m married to him and he loves me so I know I can get away with it. When asked him what he thinks about prayer, he said that he thinks intercessory prayer\u2014that is, praying for something specific\u2014is a lesser form of prayer, and that prayer at its best is contemplation, a resting in the divine presence, not asking anything.<\/p>\n

Now this is just the sort of thing a philosopher would say, isn\u2019t it?<\/p>\n

Looking for additional inspiration, I asked my friend Mary Beth about prayer, and her take was different. She said that prayers find her. By this I think she means that most of the time she\u2019s just going about her business, doing all her ordinary routines, and then prayer interrupts. Look at that sunset, it says. Or on a walk it prods her to notice the beautiful baby going by in a stroller, the one being pushed a mother who looks exhausted. Or there\u2019s a ping on her phone that gives news of a friend in trouble.<\/p>\n

I like that sense of prayer interrupting our daily routines. For prayer is indeed a call to attention. I remember being moved the first time I traveled in a Muslim country and heard the call to prayer while walking down a street in Egypt. It\u2019s not that everyone dropped everything and went to the mosque. But in the midst of all the honking taxis and the bustling crowds, it was a reminder of the divine. Remember. Memorare.<\/p>\n