“Teach Us to Pray: Out of the Depths”

Matthew 6:9-13

Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS

August 29, 2021

Kelly Connor was a 17 year old, newly-licensed driver in Perth, Australia, on her way to her part-time job. She remembers that day well because it changed her life. She had asked her dad for a ride to work, but he wanted to sleep in and told her she could drive herself. “I was so excited to drive myself in his car,” Kelly remembers, “It was my sister Jayne’s twelfth birthday. We were going to celebrate later that day. I was going on holiday with my friends in a few weeks. Life was wonderful. I was happy. I had so much to look forward to.”

As we’ve all probably done when feeling on top of the world, Kelly’s speed crept up while she was driving. And as she ascended a hill, she checked her rearview mirror, taking her eyes off the road for a split second. And in that split second, she accidentally hit and killed a woman named Margaret Healy as she was crossing the street. 

When the police came to assist, the officer asked Kelly how fast she had been driving. She said, “I was going too fast. Probably about 45 miles an hour.” 

“Do you know the speed limit?” he asked. 

“35 miles per hour,” she replied.

“Then how fast were you going?” he asked. 

She paused, confused. “Probably 45 miles an hour,” Kelly repeated.

The officer sighed. “What is the speed limit here?”

“35 miles per hour.”

“Then how fast were you traveling?”

Kelly didn’t know what to say. Was he asking her to lie? 

“Thirty-five miles per hour?” she said.

“Good,” he responded, entering the numbers in the report.

Kelly wasn’t prosecuted in any way and her parents told her that they were never to speak of the incident again. To anyone.

But the clean-slate the officer and her parents tried to create didn't quite work. Instead, Kelly’s life fell apart in slow-motion. She lived in terror and anxiety for years, afraid the police would come for her. She had nightmares and lived with shame for years - but had no one to talk to about it. No one ever punished her, and so she punished herself. She was unable to seek forgiveness and she didn’t know how to forgive herself. For thirty years, she felt imprisoned by shame and secrets. [1] 

As we near the end of our series on the prayer Jesus taught his disciples, we’re getting into some really hard stuff. “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” I can scarcely think of topics more raw, difficult, nuanced, and challenging for us humans than forgiveness, temptation, and evil.  When we, like Kelly, are in need of forgiveness and are cut off from the possibility of receiving it, we cannot be free. And when we have been wronged by someone else and cannot find a way to forgive them, we are similarly imprisoned. Being stuck like this - needing to forgive or be forgiven - is one of the more painful things we go through as humans. 

I find it interesting that, in English, we have several different versions of this part of the prayer that Jesus taught. We say debts, trespasses, sins. The Greek is pretty clearly debts in Matthew’s gospel. In Luke’s the best translation might be “forgive us our sins, for we forgive those who are indebted to us.” “Trespasses” came into the picture later much later, but scholars generally agree that any of these three English words are faithful translations of what Jesus was trying to communicate. 

Though these three - debts, sins, trespasses - definitely have differences, the thing that seems to hold them together is the plea that holds them together: “forgive us.” We can feel that desperation in Kelly’s story, can’t we? My guess is all of us know that sickening feeling of being trapped by the feeling that we can’t be forgiven. And we also know what it feels like to be stuck - unable to forgive someone who has done us wrong. 

I’d like to remove the phrase “forgive and forget” from our shared vocabulary. Because we all know it’s not that simple. Forgiving isn’t about forgetting. If only it were that easy. Instead, forgiveness is much more complex than that. Last year, our adult Sunday School class read The Book of Forgiving by Desmond Tutu. That’s where I found the story about Kelly. If forgiveness is something you want to explore more, I can’t recommend this book enough. 

Again and again, as I’ve talked with people over the years who are struggling to forgive someone else, they beat themselves up because they can’t forget what someone has done to them. Or they can’t bear to be in relationship with them any more. Or the person they need to forgive, or seek forgiveness from, is no longer in this world. Archbishop Tutu walks us through each of these concerns and reminds us that we forgive others not for their sake, but for our own sake. In forgiving, we find freedom for ourselves. And once we’ve forgiven another, it doesn’t mean we just forget and blissfully slip into a healed relationship with them. At the end of the forgiveness process, we have to decide whether we wish to renew the relationship - which can only be done if the person who has caused harm is willing to act differently - OR whether we need to release the relationship and be finished with it. [3]

Forgiveness doesn’t make things simple. Instead, it is a path to freedom. We cannot truly forgive if we just let something go again and again. That just perpetuates the problem and leads to resentment, not freedom. Instead, forgiveness is a process of recognizing that something that happened in the past is significantly affecting our present….and, therefore, shaping our future. Forgiveness is release from that past and an invitation to move into a new future that is unbound from that past. 

“Forgive our sins, O God, as we forgive those who sin against us.” It’s a dance of needing and giving forgiveness. We are able to step onto the dancefloor only because we’ve known the forgiveness found in Christ. We’ve experienced the grace of a God who pursues us relentlessly in love, even when we’re sure we don’t deserve it. We are able to join the psalmist in calling out from the depths, “forgive us!” with the faith of our ancestors, hoping that God can free us for new life once again. 

Whew. 

This part of the prayer is a lot, friends, and we’re not even done with it yet! I could easily preach another entire sermon on the second part of today’s portion, “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” Don’t worry. I’m NOT going to preach a double-header. I’m just going to note two small-but-big things:

First, I know a lot of people don’t like this part of the prayer because we get very uncomfortable with the idea of God leading us into any kind of trial, tribulation, or temptation. I searched high and low, trying to find some way to let God off the hook and create some version of God that would never do this to us. Unfortunately, I didn’t find any easy answers. Instead, I found stories like Jesus being tempted in the wilderness and Job being tested for funsies. All of this is to say: I don’t have easy answers about the nature of God’s agency but I do think HUMANS have oftentimes experienced God as one who puts us to the test. That doesn’t mean, incidentally, that God is actually doing that. It just means we humans have explained the difficulties in our lives in that way. And so I’m not surprised to see that Jesus included this in his prayer. After all, this is the pleading part of the prayer, isn’t it? Save us, God. Help us, God, Forgive us, God. Deliver us, God. 

Deliver us from evil, God. It’s a big plea. It’s the plea of a person who has lived long enough to know that there is evil in the world. Jesus doesn’t say where evil comes from or go into any detail about it at all. But Jesus recognizes that it exists. That there are forces for good and forces for ill. And although Jesus doesn’t give us pat answers about what to do with evil, Jesus models for us that there’s one thing we can do in the face of evil: and that’s pray to God to deliver us from it. 

We may not have had time today to deal with this whole portion of the prayer responsibly. I hope you’ll forgive me (see what I did there?). Next week, though, we’re going to have time for your QUESTIONS. Not just about this prayer, but about prayer in general. What have you always wondered but never had a chance to ask? What challenges you in your prayer life these days? I’m hoping to spend the whole sermon time in a Q&A about prayer, so I’m really looking forward to your questions. You’ve got a card in your bulletin and I invite you to share your questions there (don’t forget to add your name and be sure to let me know if you do NOT want me to share your name with the congregation). If you’re on Zoom, Janet should be dropping a link into the chat. You can click that and share your questions there. 

I’ll give you a few minutes now to write down your questions. You can drop them in the plate during the offering, fill out the form now online, or e-mail me anytime before Tuesday if you need more time to reflect. 

NOTES:

[1] Story from The Book of Forgiving by Desmond Tutu, pages 170-173. 

[2] Ibid., 53

[3] Ibid., 147. 

“Teach Us to Pray: Be Careful What You Pray For”

Matthew 6:9-13

Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS

August 15, 2021

“Be careful what you wish for...you just might get it.” 

“Be careful what you pray for...you just might get it.”

I kind of feel like the prayer Jesus taught his disciples might could use that phrase as a caveat at the beginning. Because when we are bold to pray, “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” That could surely mean a LOT of things, right?

We’re working our way through the Lord’s Prayer, bit by bit. And this week’s section, “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” strikes me as pretty risky. We can visualize God’s kingdom, God’s reign, as cotton-candy covered streets and unicorn rainbows. And while I believe God ultimately, absolutely intends for good things...good things aren’t always necessarily EASY, right? 

I’m sure every single one of us here can think of something that was ultimately very, very good for the world that was very, very HARD, too. Sometimes it’s a matter of perspective - something wonderful for the world is not so great for me as an individual. Or sometimes it’s a matter of just plain ol’ being hard work….and we’re tired, don’t wanna, would just prefer things to be simpler. But, still, God’s vision for love and peace and justice requires us to dig deep and do some hard things.

So when we pray “your kingdom come, your will be done,” so casually every Sunday, how often do we really pause and think about what we’re asking for?

Whew. 

What do we mean when we pray these words together?

The world is a place of contending powers. The image we can carry with us here is of tectonic plates underneath the earth’s surface. These giant forces that slowly shift and move and impact everything about our lives here on earth. We can’t see them. Most of us don’t think about them on a regular basis. We may not understand them. But there they are. Quietly existing underfoot, shaping our lives. 

Just like those physical tectonic plates exist, so, too, are spiritual, metaphysical forces at work in the world. The values that guide us as individuals and cultures. Emotions we carry and share. The day-to-day systems that shape our economies, households, schools, institutions. The “isms” that we contend with as we live our lives. Some of these forces are “good,” some are real bad, and many are somewhere in-between. They make up the air we breathe, the water we swim in as we grow, learn, interact, and move through the world. 

Can you think of some unseen forces at work in the world? (Some to name to prime the pump: love, fear, white supremacy, capitalism, violence, empathy)

So imagine with me, all those foundational forces plates just moving about under our feet, shifting and moving, pressing up against one another, competing for space, time, attention. 

To pray “your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” is to acknowledge that it’s not ONLY the earthly forces we just named that are moving and shaking. To pray “your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” is to boldly state that we believe God is also a force. When we pray this prayer, we proclaim that God is also moving and shaking - bumping up against all those human forces at work in the world - love, fear, capitalism, climate change, empathy, creativity, sexism, and more. 

When we pray “your will be done,” we do so with faith and HOPE that God has the power to shift and move and shake earthly powers of evil. And we do so with gratitude as we assert that God is also able to dance with all of the beautiful forces of humanity, too. 

It is a hopeful prayer...and it can also be demanding. Because while it feels good and right to pray for God to end white supremacy, or make us better stewards of our earth, or smash the patriarchy….we also have to be honest with ourselves and recognize that moving our world towards greater alignment with God’s Reign means massive, significant, earth-shattering change. Tectonic plates don’t move without shaking, you know? 

And so when we pray this prayer, we are also praying for strength and perseverance. We are asking God to move within us through all the changes that will come when God’s justice and peace for all creation breaks forth. We pray and trust that God will make us brave and strong to turn away from death-dealing ways even when it requires personal sacrifice. 

Praying for God’s kingdom to come is to say, of course, that we desire for God to be our ruler  rather than any earthly king, queen, president, prime minister, whatever.  Biblical scholar John Dominic Crossan clarifies that the idea of God’s kingdom, though, is really different from our idea of a human political entity because it’s not so much about a geographic location as it is about HOW God rules. The words for kingdom in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek are more about the process of ruling rather than about the area that is being ruled. Crossan says it might be better to think of it as “the ‘reigning’ of God” rather than the kingdom of God. [1]

And so when we pray for “the reigning of God,” we are praying that our world might be governed in God’s ways. The one who loves recklessly. The one who never stops reaching out to her beloved children in hope. The one who looks out for the least, the lost, the last. The one who pursues peace and knows that true peace only comes with justice. The one who fiercely says no to death and breathes life into dry bones. 

I want to end our sermon today with a brief meditation. I invite you to close your eyes, let your feet rest on the floor, find a comfortable place for your hands, perhaps in your lap. You might even want to let your palms face up, signaling that you’re ready to receive any good gifts the Spirit offers you in this time of prayer. 

Let’s allow our breath to ease up and slow down. 

And now, let’s journey into this part of the prayer that Jesus taught, working our way backwards:

Your kingdom come. Your will be done. On earth as it is in heaven. 

“As it is in heaven.” With your mind’s eye, allow your spirit to climb up to the heavens. That dome over us that we talked about last week. That place where God is, even as we are able to talk to God as if they are right here with us in this room. Because that is also true. 

As you feel your lungs expand, invite heaven inside the space in your own body. “On earth as it is in heaven.” Feel your very human body here in this very earthy space. Feet touching the ground. Notice the temperature, the sounds, the smells around you. You are here on earth but inviting heaven to bend near. God is not content to stay somewhere far away, but comes to us here and now. Always persisting in love. 

“Your will be done.” What might it look like for God’s will to rule? In your own life? In your family? Your community? Our nation? Our world?

“Your kingdom come.” The reigning of God made manifest among us. A world that is governed in God’s ways. What would that even look like? Can we begin to imagine it into being with the Spirit’s help? 

As you pray the prayer at home this week, I encourage you to drop back into this place of contemplation. Health experts tell us that taking five deep breaths is a very good thing. And this prayer just happens to fit perfectly with five deep breaths. So whenever you start to feel on edge, or weary, or weak, say the prayer silently in rhythm with your breath, taking big, deep belly breaths on your inhale and then emptying your lungs all the way out on your exhale. 

I’ll say the words now while you practice breathing. 

Our Parent who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.

Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.

Notes:

[1] Crossan, John Dominic. The Greatest Prayer. 77-78

“Teach Us to Pray: In the Tensions”

Matthew 6:9-13

Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS

August 8, 2021

During the sermon, you’re encouraged to fidget with something that creates tension. If you’re at home you might want to look for a rubberband or stretchy hair tie. You could use any piece of fabric or yarn or ribbon that you can pull tight and then release again. If you’re here in the sanctuary, you should have received a rubber band when you came in this morning. If you didn’t, please raise your hand and we’ll get one to you. 

Does everyone have their fidgety tension toy? How do you feel when you play with tension - pulling something out tight and then relaxing it again? Do you start to feel tense yourself? I mean, I can’t imagine why anyone would be feeling tense these days (ha ha) but maybe you are. When I think about tension, I have to admit that my mind first goes to the negatives. Feeling tense, and all that. 

But there are some really lovely tensions in our lives, too. 

When you get a hammock strung up just right between two trees and you climb in and relax into it. Tension can create a space for comfort and rest. 

How about when you’re out fishing? And your line has been slack for an hour but suddenly you feel a little tug. Tension can mean excitement and hope. 

I can remember going to the physical therapist when I was dealing with a lower back problem. I’d be on the table and she’d have me hold onto a bar overhead and then she would grab my ankles firmly and pulllllll down, stretching me out as far as I could go. That tension brought healing and relief from pain. 

Tension stretches us and helps us grow. It creates safe spaces for comfort and rest. And when we’re springloaded we are sometimes ready to leap to the next bit of excitement, looking for hope around every corner. 

For the next several weeks, we are going to be exploring the Prayer of Jesus during worship. Each week we’ll look at one short line in the prayer, working our way through it. Jesus taught this prayer to his disciples as they were all living in the midst of great tensions together. Pulled this way and that by the news of the day, uncertainties, hope, terror, joy and all the rest. 

It is my hope that this sermon series will be a time of exploration and growth for you as we live through our own tense times. Imagine with me a child’s weaving loom with a bunch of those colorful nylon bands stretched out all over it - each time you pray the Lord’s Prayer at home or ask a new question about it or contemplate a phrase in a new way - another piece is woven into your faith story. Together we’ll stretch and grow and find joy and strength as we get caught up in this ancient prayer together. 

Are you ready to start weaving? 

This morning we’re looking at the very beginning of the prayer. Luke says, “Father, hallowed be your name,” and Matthew writes, “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.” There are at least three beautiful tensions in this short sentence that we can weave together this morning. 

First, when teaching his disciples how to pray, Jesus uses the name Father. Those who have difficulty with a Father image for God can, of course, substitute Mother or Parent.  The idea is of a person, close to us, familiar to us….and that person is the source of our life, our creator who gave us breath. Ideally, a parent is one who is with us in our daily struggles and joys. One who gazes on us in love and awe and wonder. One that we look up to. One who teaches and guides and hopes and dreams with us. One who protects and nurtures and sustains. Not all of us get earthly parents who are able to do these things for us, and Jesus is inviting us to name God as our heavenly parent. In that naming - in that relationship - there is an intimacy. 

More than just intimacy, though, there is also a grand sense of hope. Biblical scholar N.T. Wright reminds us that the first time God is referred to as parent in the Bible is in the Exodus story. [1] God claims Israel as a beloved child and promises them their freedom. To be the child of God is to stay that we are NOT the children of any earthly ruler, like Pharoah. Instead, we are created by and belong to God, who seeks our freedom and wholeness. It’s a revolutionary, hope-filled claim to call God parent. 

And in the same breath that Jesus calls God this familiar name, Father, he also hallows God’s name, setting it apart as holy. The one we pray to is simultaneously intimate and holy. Sweet, beautiful tension. 

Another tension is that we are talking to this God at all! Because the very next line says God is “in heaven.” In the Bible, when they say heaven they’re talking about the sky - the dome above. A far away place that can only be reached in their imaginations. To say that God is “in heaven” is very much to say God is somewhere else, not here. And yet here we are talking to God intimately, quietly, and with assurance that God is listening. So which is it? Is God here, listening to me just like you are? Or is God up, out, beyond somewhere in the heavens? Yes, Jesus says. God is. Sweet, beautiful tension. 

The final tension I want to name this morning is about the prayer in general. What is it, exactly? Is it a prayer for beginners? For those who don’t know how to pray? Or is it a prayer for people of mature faith? N.T. Wright says part of what makes this prayer so powerful and captivating is that it’s both and I love the way he describes this tension. He says we are invited into the boldness of praying “our Father” when we first become followers of Jesus, and he says it’s a bit like a spiritual version of a baby’s first mug and spoon set. We claim it as our own prayer even when we are in the infancy of our faith. But it’s not just for beginners, Wright says. It’s also a full suit of clothes designed for us to wear in our maturity as we continue to grow in our faith. Most of us, he writes, “putting the suit on week by week, have to acknowledge that it’s still a bit big for us, that we still have some growing to do before it’ll fit.” [2] We claim this prayer in the infancy of our faith but we keep trying it on day after day as we mature in our faith and seek to fully understand Jesus’s prayer. A baby spoon for a new Christian and a suit for a fully-grown person of mature faith. Sweet, beautiful tension. 

These next few weeks, we’ll be trying on this suit together, looking up to our big brother in the faith, Jesus, as he teaches us to pray. This week, at home, I encourage you to pray the entirety of the prayer each day. Perhaps at dinner or before bed. 

I’ve also set up a page on our website to go with the series. It has different versions of the prayer and an online response form where you can share your questions, observations, stories about what it’s like to explore this prayer each day. Just go to uccmanhattan.org and then click the “teach us to pray” image on the homepage. 

Together, we’ll weave our observations, questions, and wonderings into a single garment as we try on Jesus’s prayer of sweet, beautiful tensions. 

NOTES:

[1] Wright, N.T. The Lord and His Prayer, 4.

[2] ibid., 1.