Those that occasionally read this blog – and there are at least two of us – know that for the last several weeks I have been pondering the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus’ response to the disciples when they asked him to teach them to pray. As I pondered, it occurred to me, almost like noticing the sky and wondering why I had never noticed it before, that Jesus didn’t just teach the disciples this prayer, he probably prayed it himself. More than that, he lived it.

We can see this distinctly as we think about the events of Holy Week. The one who said, “When you pray, say: Father… your kingdom come, your will be done,” prayed in the garden, “Father, not my will but yours be done.” He said for us to ask for our daily bread and as he sat with his friends, he took the bread, blessed, broke, and gave it. In the prayer he teaches us to pray for forgiveness with the realization that our being forgiven is woven together with our willingness to forgive. Then, on the cross, he prays, “Father forgive them.” In other words, Jesus didn’t just say prayers, his life was a prayer.

That is our calling as well. Henri Nouwen, in The Living Reminder, said that we are called to, “A way of being, which embraces the totality of life: working and resting, eating and drinking, praying and playing, acting and waiting.” Obviously prayer is far more than a prayer time, no matter how many prayer times we may observe during the day. Prayer is a lifestyle, a stance, a turning toward God, an awareness, it is our life. It is not so much something we do as it is what we are.

Sometimes I get this. Sometimes it is so clear. Sometimes my hearing, my seeing, my speaking, my doing, my breathing, my heartbeat are all one and present to the Lord. Sometimes.

I know I am dancing all around it. I feel like I am trying to explain the sky in three hundred words or less and words are failing. But, I’ll try again,. I think prayer is a calling; a deep, primal, real calling to a life that is awake to the truth that all we do and all we are is our prayer.

Let it be.

Anne Lamott says that there are essentially three prayers; help, thanks, and wow. My heart was singing “wow” the other day when my six-year old grandson quietly shared that he had prayed, “help.”
My little buddy left for school that morning very anxious about something that is vitally important to him and it was having a major impact on his ability to enjoy life. If you are guessing that he was worried about math homework, whether or not his clothes matched, or how he could improve his conduct grade, you are pretty far off track. He was distressed about a computer game. His older sister had logged on to his game, made a wrong move, and lost “five hours’ worth of work.” As you know, five hours is a long time to a six-year old and if it was spent “working,” well, all the more reason for distress. That is until he prayed.
When we picked him from school, his Mom asked him how his day had gone; he smiled and said, “It was good. You know how I was all worried about that game? Well, I just prayed about it. I don’t know why I did. I just did.” And that was that. No mention about the “peace that passes understanding” or anything else biblical but the clear implication was that asking the Lord for a little help had lightened the load a good bit.
Ok, I know what you are thinking so here are the rules: you can only laugh at that if you have never prayed for your team to win, a putt to go in, a good parking place, or for a painless shot at the doctor’s office. All the rest of you deep theologians may laugh away… at a little boy… who opened his heart to God.
Me? I smiled and breathed a “Wow.”
So let’s review. He was “very anxious about something that is vitally important to him and it was having a major impact on his ability to enjoy life.” I’m not much into computer games and it’s been a long time since I prayed for my team to win, a putt to go in, or for a parking place (maybe not so long for that painless shot) but I am familiar with anxiety that can inhibit my ability to enjoy life. It comes from grief, fear, disease, addictions, broken relationships, and human suffering. You know, big boy stuff. So my plan is to try very hard to be like my six-year-old mentor and remember to pray when I’m in the midst of such.
I suppose you know the line that precedes, “the peace that passes understanding” says, “Do not worry about anything, but in everything, by prayer… let your requests be made known to God.” (Philippians 4:6) Anything. Everything.
I’m not talking about giving God a to do list. I am pretty sure that “fix this,” and “do that” aren’t very good prayers. On the other hand, it’s been my experience that “help me remember that you are with me,” “heal my broken heart,” and “give me strength to face this with courage and love,” bring clarity to the situation.
Sometimes when I pray those prayers I hear the loving response, “Don’t be afraid, I am here. Be still and know that I am God.” Then I remember with Julian of Norwich that the promise is not that we will avoid pain, the promise is that all shall be well.
Still, five hours is a long time to a little boy so we were pretty pleased to discover that he could resume the game right where he left off. No harm, no foul big Sis. Yay! And they lived happily ever after. Pretty much.
So I guess that covers it. “Help,” said my little buddy. “Wow,” said his Granddaddy. Oh, and “Thanks.” Thanks for little boys that walk with Christ.
Did I mention wow?

A St. Patrick’s Day special.
J. Philip Newell, in his book Christ of the Celts, shares a wonderful story about the saint of Ireland on the day of judgement. Patrick is summoned to the eternal but he declines saying, “I will not come unless all my people may come with me.” The summons comes a second time and again he says, “I will not come unless my people may come with me.” The third time, God relents and says to tell Patrick that his people may come with him but there is one thing that he must do. The legend doesn’t say what the one thing is but there is no doubt that Patrick will do it.
Newell also writes of a time from his childhood when he awoke in the middle of the night and thought his house was empty. He became convinced that the rapture had occurred and that he had been left behind. Then it occurred to him that his parents would not have left him. They would have been like Patrick and declined the invitation if they had to forsake their son.
I must confess that being able to decline had never occurred to me. Well, that’s not entirely true. People decline all the time and I agree with C.S. Lewis who said that no one will go to heaven that doesn’t want to. (Actually, that isn’t exactly the way he said it. C.S. Lewis would never dangle a participle.) I just never considered being able to make sure my loved ones were on the train to glory before getting my ticket punched.
But, here’s the deal. I don’t think I am going to need to. (Again, with the dangling. I bet C. S. Lewis is wishing his name wasn’t even associated with this post.) I won’t need to because the phrase, “I will not leave or forsake you” is taken by the one who endured the cross in order to prove that he has no intention of leaving anyone behind. (John 15:15)
Christ is the source of our love. The love we feel for our friends and family comes from Christ and it is a sign that Christ is in us. It was Christ in Patrick, telling God that he wants everyone to come. It is Christ in us telling God that we want our loved ones to come.
God said yes.
Ponder that while you sip a green beer.

When we moved into our cabin I knew exactly where I wanted my desk. It had to be in the loft, facing a window that looks out to the north.
The view through the window is the south side of our mountain. That includes a road where I sometimes see our neighbors, or maybe my wife and dog, taking a morning stroll. I can also see several huge rocks that were pushed around by continental shifts millennia ago. They remember when these mountains were the tallest in the world. There are couple thousand trees and of course, critters. Squirrels are common, as are crows, tufted titmouse, and cardinals. There have been sightings of box turtles, wild turkeys, and deer. There is evidence that a bear or two has passed this way. Sometimes, at night, I wonder about the wild cousins that I haven’t seen but I know they sneak by: the skunks, raccoons, and snakes. All that, plus a never ending sky that will sometimes send a thick cloud into our yard. It all reminds me why some call creation, “God’s first bible.” Like the psalmist says, it’s all telling the glory of God and proclaiming his handiwork.
On my side of the window, the top of my desk is covered with icons, spiritual mementos, pictures of family, and words that I have written to remind me that I am a child of the light. The books I am reading devotionally are there and they speak to me of God’s love and acceptance. When I’m sitting at my desk, sipping a good cup of coffee, it’s pretty easy to be a Christian.
Sometimes it feels so easy I do a little spiritual checkup just to remind myself that there may still be a spot or two in my heart that needs some work. It’s a pretty simple test. I just ponder that part of the prayer that goes, “your will be done.”
I’m afraid I almost always – by that I mean every time so far – feel a little hitch when it’s time to pray that. If I was going to pray honestly, and there’s really no reason not to, I would probably pray, “Thy kingdom come and for right now let’s just talk about what you have in mind concerning my life.”
Why do you suppose that is? I’m not sure there is an easy answer. Part of it is all that awesomeness outside my window makes God look pretty big and frankly a little wild, in others words, scary. I know that wanting to be in control plays a big part. I have some plans of my own. What if God wants me to go where I don’t want to go or do what I don’t want to do? A desire for comfort and my feelings of unworthiness also play a part. I am certain that a basic underlying fear of risk and change are part of the mix as well. But, why would I be afraid of the One who has gone to such great and amazing effort to say and prove that the nature of our Creator is love.
Think about it, love God – love neighbor – God is love – God so loved the world – I will never leave or forsake you – this is my commandment that you love as you have been loved – God saw creation and called it good – steadfast love – we are God’s own – surely goodness and mercy… you get the point. Still the hitch persists.
Thy will be done. Thy will be done. Thy will be done. Maybe if I say enough I will live it.

Jesus’ response to “teach us to pray” was “when you pray, pray in this way” and then he gave the disciples what we call the Lord’s Prayer.

I have found the following exercise to be helpful as I linger in prayer, using those words. I have practiced it in quiet times of devotion, sitting by the ocean, and at my desk during the work day. It is an exercise that travels.

What helps me linger is being aware of my breath and making my breathing a part of the praying. The fathers and mothers of spiritual disciplines have noted that breathing and prayer are closely related. Once, I heard a director comfort a young woman who was insecure in her prayer life that she should remember that “if you are breathing, you are praying.”

I offer instructions for each of the phrases. You should feel free to adopt it to your own rhythm but do breathe deeply and slowly. Take your time hold each breath a few seconds as you ponder the suggested thoughts or others that come to your mind.

First, take a moment to recognize that the Spirit is indeed present. Right here, right now.

Breathe in. Ask the Lord to help you pray, remembering that this prayer was given as a response to the disciples asking Jesus to teach them to pray.

Breathe out. “Our Father, who art in heaven,” As you breathe out, send your prayer out, calling on our Father who draws us into his presence.

Breathe in. “hallowed be thy name.” Take in God’s transforming holiness.

Breathe out. “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done” Make your petition to the one whose will is prefect love.

Breathe in. “on earth, as it is in heaven.” As you breathe in, take in the Spirit. Take God’s will into your heart, a child of the earth, a part of creation.

Breathe out. “Give us this day” Release your petition to the one who graciously gives us all that we need.
Breathe in. “our daily bread.” Take in the living bread of life.

Breathe out. “And forgive us our trespasses,” Prayer to the one who delights in mercy and forgivness.

Breathe in. “as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Receive forgiveness and receive the power to forgive.

Breathe out. “And lead us not into temptation,” Remember that you are praying to the Good Shepherd.

Breathe in. “but deliver us from evil.” Receive the life changing Spirit of God.

Breathe out. “For thine is the kingdom, and the power, the glory,” Make this your statement of faith. Breathe out for the world what you believe.

Breathe in. “forever.” Breathe in eternal and abundant life.

Breathe out. “Amen.” Amen.