In some ways, prayer is where the "rubber hits the road" in the Christian faith. For with prayer we are not simply talking about some discipling ourselves to Jesus, who is a great exemplar, but only a man. In prayer we are not simply talking about God as some kind of idea or ideal. In prayer we are beginning to "talk to" this God.
It may not be that we want a definition of prayer as simple, and apparently naive, as "talking to God," but when we begin to pray, we are acknowledging a reality. We are going beyond ideas, beyond concepts, and beyond fascination or longing. We are committing to action. In praying we are doing something the same as the person who says, "I choose to act in this way, because this is the way of Jesus." There is the giving of allegiance to more than an idea. We are committing to some kind of reality.
St. John of Damascus said, "To pray is to offer one's heart to God." In this we can see two things. Prayer goes beyond simply talking, and especially beyond mere asking. And we see that prayer is a kind of emotional commitment. It moves beyond intellectual assent.
For the person whose way of life is a-theistic, especially if they are ignorant of religious tradition, prayer must seem one of our major foolishnesses. What an infuriating naivete to ask a non existent God for help! Sometimes, when I listen to prayers from the congregation, I can only agree. When I am struggling with my doubts, or when I am overwhelmed by the enormity of the world's problems, how foolish a notion it seems to think that there is something or someone, who will intervene.... or even just listen. But this asking is not, first of all, asking. First of all, it is the cry of the human heart.
Prayer is the cry of the human heart. We can't help but pray in our frustrations and pain. To be human is to know our limitations. It is to be aware beyond mere instinct. It is to suffer.
We had a cat who lived with us 16 years. She had her way of telling us when she wanted a door open, and another way of telling us when she wanted food. She had her chosen spots for comfortable snoozing. When she wanted attention, and received none, she would sit between my wife and her keyboard, refusing to move until her demands were met. When Wendy was feeling down, the cat would climb into her lap to comfort her. It was a different way of settling down; as if she knew her need for comfort.
Prayer is the awareness that goes beyond all that awareness. Prayer is when there is no comforting cat. It is for the timne when our solitude is beyond talking with other people or soaking up the warmth of another body. There is a desire, a longing and perhaps, a pain for which there seems only to be God. Read on >>>>
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Prayer
unless a grain
John 12: 20-33
why wait for death to sweep you from the floor
before you shed the centred-self
that speeds you to her door?
why wait for death to start to take apart
the closed and shuttered capsule
of your tightly guarded heart?
why wait for death
to lift you to a place
where you might see
the face of love
and know it as your own
eternal home?
why wait for death
while life demands release;
a long and fruitful burial
of all that hinders peace?
why wait for death
to live this hour?
© Jennie Gordon 2009 Used by Permission
How good it is to be alive!
After the rush of Main North Road, the South Terrace parklands are a paradise.
The rain has filled the wetlands, and the air is filled with the taste of living water.
This morning the grey haired man is without his partner, but their Maltese- Shih Tzu, ever happy, still trots along side. Further along, the two women with the Jack Russell call out "Good Morning." Jack strains against the harness with his usual enthusiasm, longing for the day he can drag me off the bike.
Today it seems every young olive tree in the grove has its own ibis, wiggling worms out of the leaf litter.
A couple of nights ago, coming home, my farmer's eye guesstimated 200 ducks grazing like a tight mob of sheep, in the paddock across from the Velodrome! This morning I crossed fifty metres of duck painted path, evidence the whole raft had waddled across to the velodrome.
Even the bare, overgrazed horse paddock has turned green. The living smell of stable has replaced the dry, deathly odour of the old slaughterhouse holding cell.
As I came up to Grand Junction Road, I met another cyclist rolling across, on his way to Mawson Lakes. He gave me a grin and "G'day," as he began the race down to the wetlands.
How good it is to be alive!
Andrew
Here in South Australia we are having the longest November (ie pre-summer) heat wave on record. We are having 39 degree days ie 102 Fahrenheit, and higher. This Sunday the Gospel reading is from Mark 13, sometimes called The Little Apocalypse.
So here we are
in the bone drying heat wave
of a threatening summer.
The fear of fire
the memory of drought
and our unease for the earth
as air conditioners plunder power and we worry about water
all remind us of the insecurity of life even in this safe place.
We are far from the refugees
on frail boats in baking sun
with sharks circling.
We are not fleeing our village with fire rising behind us.
We have food to eat,
still enough water for washing and growing gardens
let alone clean for drinking...
And yet all the fear and failings of the world burn into us
as we cross the sweltering melting asphalt of the supermarket car park
with the malice of a north wind drying our eyes.
How long, O Lord?
We are here this morning in the heat
because we have heard the words of Jesus.
He has upended our world and given us hope.
Life has been given new meaning
and greater depth....
but we see so many drowning in those other depths
of evil, despair, destruction and loss.
We feel despair calling us, too,
as we face our own frailty and struggles.
Lord Jesus Christ
be our gateway into the depths of the Divine
be the pioneer of our faith
We are here.
Lead us on. Amen
Andrew Prior
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