A Prayer for the Twenty-Seventh Sunday of Ordinary Time

[This is one of a series of Prayers for the Christian Year. To see the other posts, click here.]

Living, loving Father,

Your glory is on display all around us; may we have the eyes to see it. May we have the ears to hear and hearts to receive Your word. Your word is perfect, sure, right, clear, pure, never-ending, true, righteous, more valuable than gold and sweeter than honey. Your word revives our souls, grows us in wisdom, makes our hearts rejoice and gives light to our eyes. We need Your word more than anything else that anyone can give us.

In Your word, You have given us a way to live, free from sin, and freed to fully love You and those around us. Speak Your word to us, so that we may live.

We saw and heard this way of living most clearly when You sent Your Word to be one of us in the life of Your Son, our Savior, Jesus. His ways were Your ways. His life among us was more valuable than gold and sweeter than honey, and made the pursuit of everything except knowing Him look like worthless garbage.

We want to know Him, the power of His resurrection, and the sharing of His sufferings, so that just as He lives, we also may live.

You sent Your Word, Your beloved Son, and we rejected Him, yet He remains the foundation of all that is good in this world, and it is amazing in our eyes.

Again today as those mercifully given the opportunity to be His students, we pray the prayer that He taught us, saying

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name, Your kingdom come, Your will be done,  on earth as in heaven.

Give us today our daily bread.

Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.

Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil.

For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are Yours now and for ever. Amen

Notes:

Depending on which system of ordering one pays attention to, this Sunday can also be referred to as Proper 22, or (in 2011) the Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost. Regardless of the system, the readings are the same. So, the readings for this week, on which this prayer is based, are:

  • Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20: The sixth of nine consecutive readings from Exodus. This passage contains the Ten Commandments, Israel's response (they were afraid, trembled, stood at a distance and said to Moses, "You speak to us, and we will listen; but do not let God speak to us, or we will die"), and Moses' reply ("Do not be afraid...")
  • Psalm 19: Contains a reflection on the goodness of all of God's commandments (including the Ten Commandments), including "more are they to be desired than gold, even much fine gold; sweeter also than honey, and drippings of the honeycomb."
  • Philippians 3:4b-14: The third of four consecutive readings from Philippians. In this passage, Paul lists the items that could be considered to his benefit as "reasons to be confident in the flesh," but then points out that he considers them as rubbish compared to the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus.
  • Matthew 21:33-46: All of the gospel readings after Pentecost in Year A come from Matthew. This passage is the second of nine consecutive readings containing Jesus’ teachings during the days of the week between his triumphal entry into Jerusalem (Sunday) and his arrest (Thursday night). This passage is Jesus' parable of the wicket tenants, who first kill the landowner's servants, and then his son, and the chief priests and Pharisees realize that he was talking about them.

In Defense of Followership

I'm still a newbie on Twitter. I've been on it a couple of years, but I've still yet to give it enough attention to let it do all that it's capable of in connecting with people, spreading ideas, etc. If it's like my history with other things, I'll finally really get the hang of it in a decade or so. Even though I like technology, I don't do much of anything very fast, including adopting new stuff.

But one thing about Twitter puzzles me: a lot of people follow a lot of people. For example, I currently have 43 people following me, and only 13 of those 43 follow fewer than 100 people. But then it gets more wacky: 10 of the 43 follow more than 1,000 people, and 3 of the 43 follow more than 10,000 people! The stats above are the highest numbers among my "followers": this person is my loyal follower, just as they are of 53,654 other people.

Now, I don't think there's anything wrong with this. People like this are accomplishing a lot more through social media than I've figured out how to do. But I just don't get it... why click "follow" by thousands of people's names?

Maybe I just like the word "follow" too much and get defensive on its behalf. There's no way that we can follow 10,000 people in any sense where the word keeps any real meaning. And it's not fair to Twitter nor to its users to over-spiritualize things, but just an observation:

Paying very close attention to whom it is that we really follow is invaluable in the course of our lives. Sure, I'd like it if there were 50,000 people following my blog (I think), but if there's ever a choice between having a huge number of people follow me or keeping a very small, but very wisely chosen group of people whom I'm following, I think the whole world will be better off if I choose to focus on being a great follower of a few people who have lived really well.

Leadership is over-rated. Followership really matters.

Why Jesus Wouldn't Have Been Grumpy in Your Church

I'm convinced that Jesus never sat in worship at a synagogue complaining to others that he "didn't get anything out of it." That's pretty remarkable if you think about it, because I'm quite sure that he never really "got fed" from the rabbi's comments, and I'm also sure that he is one who actually knew better than everyone in charge of the synagogue how to do the things they were trying to do.

I'm writing with a large amount of ignorance about ancient Jewish worship practices, but I'm pretty confident about a few things:

  • The synagogue in Nazareth (or the majority of the other places he spent time) probably didn't have the best band around.
  • If Jesus had invited a Gentile friend, no one in the synagogue would have gone out of their way to make him (or especially her!) feel welcome.
  • There weren't two rooms in the synagogue with different styles of worship opportunities, one where older, more traditional Andrew would have gone, and another that the younger, Rock-n-Roll Peter liked better.
  • And, perhaps most shockingly of all, there wasn't even a coffee bar.

Yet, as the Scriptures tell us, "it was his custom" to be in the synagogue. As a young man, it was the primary place where he learned the Hebrew Scriptures which he himself embodied. He continued to be there, and be shaped by what happened there, as an adult before he went to cousin John to be baptized and begin publicly proclaiming the availability of God's kingdom. And, once he had a group of disciples and began to be one called "Rabbi," he was still there, despite some pretty serious disagreements and tension with other people in the room.

Had he lived many more years, I'm quite sure that Jesus would not have become a grumpy old synagogue-man. So what's the difference? Why do so many of us go from church to church, as mentioned in Renovation of the Church, like Goldilocks, looking for leaders who preach the way we think they should preach, sing the way we think they should sing, and for a church that's not too big, not too small, but just right? And we usually do so convinced that we're following God's leading.

I'm writing as once again as one who sits in the pews, rather than who is up front leading in church, so I won't be concerned with saying this gently, as they would: if you're not being fed in your church, stop placing blame for your lack of growth on other people and start taking responsibility to cooperate with the work of God's grace that is abundantly available to you right now. You probably have a good idea of how you can shape your day today in a way that will give God more room to work in you. Do it. It's not anyone else's job, and God will be there to help your efforts.

Yes, we certainly read of Jesus having some stern things to say to the religious leaders of his day, but on a normal morning in worship, he wouldn't have been grumpy in your church or mine. He would have prayed, listened, noticed what was happening in the lives of those worshipping with him, and continued living knowing that he would be fed by doing his Father's will, rather than being dependent on the people up front to always do the feeding.

Book Review: The Liturgical Year by Joan Chittister

 

A very meaningful practice in my Christian life over the past several years has been beginning to learn and follow the Christian Year. This can mean varying things in different traditions, but the essence of it is shaping our lives, Scripture readings, and worship around an annual cycle primarily based on the events of Jesus' life. All Christians do this to varying degrees, at the minimum recognizing Christmas and Easter, or on the other end of the spectrum having a calendar full of feast days, fast days, and other things that may seem foreign even to many long-time Christians. Since I'm a United Methodist, we fall in the middle (as we almost always do). So my practice of following the Christian year mainly consists of observing the seasons of Advent, Lent, and Easter, along with the special days included in them, as well as following the readings of the Revised Common Lectionary. Doing so has been very meaningful to me, because it's taken me out of the driver's seat of my own spiritual journey ("So what do I feel like reading today?"), and has given me a very practical way of seeking to immerse the story of my life in the story of the life of Jesus. I've gotten enough of a taste of it that I want to go much further.

That's why I was eager to read [amazon_link id="0849946077" target="_blank" ]The Liturgical Year[/amazon_link] by Joan Chittister. It's part of The Ancient Practices Series, edited by Phyllis Tickle, whose guides for fixed-hour prayer (The Divine Hours series) have been very helpful to me and thousands of others. I'd also already read Scot McKnight's excellent book from the series, Fasting, so I was excited to explore another of the series' titles.

The book is 231 pages, but broken up into 33 very short and readable chapters. Chittister begins with some background information on the Christian Year (or, the Liturgical Year as is her preferred term), which she describes as "the spiraling adventure of the spiritual life." If you're from a tradition closer to the end of the spectrum that doesn't get very involved, for example, in observances of Lent or Advent, and only includes Christmas Day and Easter Day in your annual calendar (and possibly something on Good Friday), it would be enlightening to you to read these first chapters. If you're on the other end of the spectrum, the things you already do will become more meaningful. Chittister weaves historical background of the liturgical observances with her own reflections and provides a convincing case for how following this annual calendar helps us to continue living ever more fully into Jesus' story.

The introductory chapters are followed by a journey through the markers of the Christian year. Beginning with Advent, then going through Christmas and Epiphany, into Lent and Easter, with stretches of "Ordinary Time" in between the seasons, Chittister helps us to understand the origin of each of the observances, along with many of the worship rituals traditionally practiced with each one.

I read this book because I hoped that a greater understanding of each of these markers in our year would add depth to my practice of them, rather than- as I had done for so long- simply going along with the flow in my church and doing things but having no earthly idea why we did them. The book will help me to do so during the rest of my Christian years, and could do so for you as well.

A good example is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Even if you're not from a church that observes it, you've likely noticed people once each year who walk around with ashes on their foreheads. It's something that millions of Christians do, but where in the world did we get such a tradition, and why do millions continue to practice it?

Chittister explains that Ash Wednesday is:

an echo of the Hebrew Testament's ancient call to sackcloth and ashes [and] a continuing cry across the centuries that life is transient, that change is urgent. We don't have enough time to waste on nothingness. We need to repent our dillydallying on the road to God... We need to get back in touch with our souls. "Remember man that you are dust and unto dust you shall return," [we heard] as the ashes trickled down our foreheads. We hear now, as Jesus proclaimed in Galilee, "Turn away from sin and believe the good news" (Mark 1:15). Ash Wednesday confronts us with what we have become and prods us to do better. Indeed, Lent... is about opening our hearts one more time to the Word of God  in the hope that, this time, hearing it anew, we might allow ourselves to become new as a result of it. (118-119)

For every point along the journey, she provides helpful background, reflections, and guidance so that her readers can enter more fully and meaningfully into joining two millennia of other Christians who have followed an annual cycle of remembering and celebrating the life of Jesus.

Being a Roman Catholic, her annual journey has quite a few more markers than mine does, but she helped in adding meaning to the days and seasons that are a part of the customs of my tradition as well as helping me to know the meaning behind practices of my siblings in other branches of our faith.

Click here to view [amazon_link id="0849946077" target="_blank" ]The Liturgical Year[/amazon_link] on Amazon.

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A Prayer for the Twenty-Sixth Sunday of Ordinary Time (Year A)

[This is one of a series of Prayers for the Christian Year. To see the other posts, click here.] Living, loving Father,

We remember how You have worked to bring us to this point today. You have been faithful to us in good times and bad, just as you were to those who have gone before us and to everyone who has ever looked to You. Even at times when it has seemed that all hope was lost, You have given us hope and life in abundance, giving us the water we needed when all we could see were rocks in the desert.

Lord, we will not forget Your faithfulness to us, that it was You who brought us into life and who has never left us alone in anything we have done.

When we forget You, we grumble, worried about our own needs being met. But when we remember You, and even learn to think like You, we realize there is a better way. We can look to the interests of others rather than our own. We can regard others as better than ourselves, rather than acting out of selfish ambition or vain conceit.

We can live the kind of life that we have seen lived by Your Son, our Savior, Jesus, who emptied Himself to be one of us even though that led Him to the cross. It is to His name that we kneel with our knees, and that we confess as Lord with our tongues, together with all of creation.

Help us to recognize the people and works in our world today which resemble the way that Jesus lived and worked among us so long ago. And when we see them, help us to be quick to respond obeying His command to love one another and following His example of how that can be done.

It is as we continue to seek to learn to live our lives from Him, as His disciples, that we again pray the prayer that He taught us, saying

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name, Your kingdom come, Your will be done,  on earth as in heaven.

Give us today our daily bread.

Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.

Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil.

For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are Yours now and for ever. Amen

Notes:

Depending on which system of ordering one pays attention to, this Sunday can also be referred to as Proper 21, or (in 2011) the Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost. Regardless of the system, the readings are the same. So, the readings for this week, on which this prayer is based, are:

  • Exodus 17:1-7: The fifth of nine consecutive readings from Exodus. In this passage, the Israelites are grumbling against Moses (and, by implication, against God) for bringing them out of Egypt into the desert "to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst." God then provides water for them to drink out of a rock.
  • Psalm 78:1-4, 12-16: Part of a psalm that recounts God's saving acts toward Israel throughout history. This week's section remembers how God miraculously saved the Israelites from slavery in Egypt, and how he guided and provided for them in the wilderness.
  • Philippians 2:1-13: The second of four consecutive readings from Philippians. In this classic passage, Paul encourages his readers to "let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus," and gives a description of what that meant for Jesus and what it can mean for the rest of us. The passage concludes with Paul's exhortation to "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who is at work in you..."
  • Matthew 21:23-32: All of the gospel readings after Pentecost in Year A come from Matthew. This passage is the first of nine consecutive readings containing Jesus' teachings during the days of the week between his triumphal entry into Jerusalem (Sunday) and his arrest (Thursday night). Religious leaders try to trap Jesus with a question about his authority, and he responds by trapping them with a question about John the Baptist. He then tells a parable of two sons, one who does what his Father asked and one who doesn't, making the point that "the tax collectors and prostitutes are going into the kingdom of heaven ahead of you.

Am I Flourishing or Withering?

The state of my spiritual life, like the state of yours, is very simple: we’re either flourishing or we’re withering.

I can’t really explain why some of the pecan trees in our orchard are flourishing, with big, beautiful nuts on them, while others that were alive last year are now as dead as can be. Even if I can’t explain it, it’s a great visual reminder that my soul is constantly either being given life or having the life sucked out of it.

Over the years, I’ve learned to pay attention to a few indicators of my flourishing vs. my withering. You may have others you could add to your own list, but I would guess these are relevant to you too.

When I’m flourishing:

  • I’m more patient and less irritable.
  • Not getting my way on something bothers me less than it does at other times.
  • I’m much more able to enjoy time with my wife, my kids, and our family and friends, because I’m much more “there” with them rather than being distracted.
  • I sleep better, rather than having my mind racing at night trying to problem-solve even while I’m dreaming.
  • I don’t feel in a hurry.
  • I’m able to get the important things done and ignore stuff that doesn’t matter.

When I’m withering, the opposites of each of these things are true.

One of the puzzling things about these pecan trees is that they’re right next to each other. They received the same sunlight. They’ve both been irrigated. The exact same care has been given to both of them. Yet one is very alive and producing pecans that will be very tasty, while the other will become firewood.

A look at my spiritual life would be puzzling in the same way. God’s grace has always been available to me in super-abundance, with everything at hand that’s needed to live a life fully connected to God and others. At times my life has brought about some good things and I have loved God and people well. At other times, I haven’t had much life in me, but have only been dry and useless.

The good news is, that unlike a pecan tree, I have the response-ability to reconnect when I notice some of the warning signs of withering. I can put the conditions for growth back into place, and allow God’s good grace to have its effect on me.

What about you? Are you flourishing, or withering?

Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. Whoever does not abide in me is thrown away like a branch and withers; such branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. - John 15:4-6