Year A, Pentecost 9 Romans 8:26-39
I went to a
Presbyterian seminary in my early 20s. I
was Roman Catholic at the time and had never once been asked to pray
extemporaneously…that means without any preparation. I had been active in a
church and college ministry, but that was not something that Catholics did.
Presbyterians are much more accustomed to writing their own prayers and often
leading prayer without writing it out in advance. Every week, the women on the 3rd
floor of my dorm would get together for prayer and conversation. People were called on for opening and closing
prayers. I told them that I wasn’t
comfortable with that and asked that they not call on me. After a few months they said, “Well, can’t
you just lead a Catholic prayer that you know?”
We did the Hail Mary, which also felt weird. I became good at just avoiding it in general.
When I was
studying at the Episcopal Seminary I was rarely called on to lead prayer that
wasn’t in the prayer book…which meant I didn’t get any practice coming up with
my own prayers. At my first clergy conference, the bishop had this fun habit of
inviting the newest clergy to lead the prayer before a meal. He asked me and I
politely declined…in front of everyone.
There is nothing more terrifying than leading a prayer in front of a
bunch of clergy, especially when you are brand new and the youngest one
there. A few years later, one of my
colleagues said, “Telling the bishop you wouldn’t pray was one of the craziest
things I had ever seen. I didn’t think you would make it to the next clergy
conference.” But here I am, 20 years
later. And you know what…it still makes
me nervous when someone asks me to pray out loud….and I am a priest.
For that reason and at least a few
more, I have always loved these words from Paul. “The Spirit helps us in our
weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit
intercedes with sighs too deep for words.”
Paul was obviously a gifted writer and speaker. If he wasn’t, we wouldn’t
still be reading him today. Yet it would
seem, that even he had his moments when he didn’t feel like he could pray. Maybe it was the times he was imprisoned...or
ship wrecked, or beaten. Those are all
possibilities. Or perhaps, it was those
time when he felt that he had to prove himself over and over again, because he
wasn’t one of the original apostles. He often felt the need to defend himself
as he was one of the few leaders of this very new church who had never even met
Jesus when he was still alive.
It’s impossible to
know when it was hardest for him. I have
had times in my life when it was hard, even impossible to pray. Sometimes when it felt like it should have
been hard, the prayer came with ease. Even as I wrote this sermon, I couldn’t quite
pinpoint why sometimes prayer felt impossible, and other times, it flowed like
a mighty river, just gushing forth. I share all this because I know a lot of
people who perceive that their struggle to pray makes them less of a
Christian. However, I believe that the
struggle is what brings us closer to God.
I think the other thing that can bring us closer to God is our ability
to acknowledge our weakness and thus our dependence on God.
Some version of the word “weak” is
used 42 times in the New Testament. 32
of those times are in Paul’s letters. In
the Old Testament, weak is only used with negative associations or when talking
about the need to help and protect the weak.
What I have always appreciated about Paul is his willingness to
acknowledge his own weakness…not as a failure, not even as something that needs
to be fixed, but an opportunity to strengthen one’s relationship with God.
In his letter to
the Corinthians, Paul talked about a thorn in his flesh…something he begged God
to take away from him. There are a lot
of theories about what this thorn might have been, but we really can’t know for
sure. What we know is that it was a
thorn that remained his whole life. It was something that he never overcame,
never rid himself of. While God didn’t
remove the thorn, God did respond to the prayer. God said “’My grace is sufficient for
you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’” That led Paul to
conclude, “For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
I
am not proud of my refusal to pray out load at my first clergy conference. My refusal didn’t come from a place of
humility or awareness of my weakness. It
came from a place of fear and anxiety…a need that people not judge me on
something that I didn’t have time to prepare.
Ironically, about 15 years after that refusal to pray publicly, a
friend of mine and I decided to write a book of prayers about our experiences
being gravely ill. Both of us realized
that when we were sick and afraid, we couldn’t pray, which was confusing for us
because we were both clergy. You would
think if anyone could have figured it out, we could have.
But it was almost like our training got in the
way. We had forgotten the words of Paul
were not just words to preach about, they were words to experience. We called the book Irreverent Prayers, not
because the prayers were actually irreverent, but because the groaning and
sighing that we experienced as prayer just didn’t feel reverent or holy. It felt desperate. It also felt real, and I think that’s all God
really cares about, that our prayers are real and mean something.
If
you are struggling with prayer, then that means you haven’t given up. If you feel like you can’t find the right
words, then that’s when you get to groan or sigh or cry. If your prayers contain swear words, just
don’t say those prayers out loud in a large group. Don’t try to censor yourself
before God. Don’t feel shame for what
you want to say or are afraid to say.
Paul wrote, “God, who searches the heart, knows
what is the mind of the Spirit…” God has already searched our hearts. God already knows all of us, and God loves us
not despite our weakness, but because of our weakness. Our weaknesses gives God something to work
with.
In the Gospels, it was always the proud and the confident
that Jesus argued with and was critical of.
It was never the weak and the vulnerable. Jesus never reprimanded
someone for genuine questions. The only questions he didn’t like were the ones
that were trying to trap or trick him. If you are feeling weak, or afraid, or
hopeless—that’s ok. It’s hard to feel
those things, but it doesn’t mean you are not holy or beloved by God. You were created for holiness and
goodness. Don’t let fear or weakness be
a reason to give up. Instead, let it be a reason to invite God into your life in
the most authentic way possible.
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