The Prayer of Nicodemus

….whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you. Matthew 6:6

This morning, I was re-reading Brain McClaren’s The Secret Message of Jesus: Uncovering the Truth that Could Change Everything. In chapter 5, as McClaren underscores the hiddenness inherent in Jesus’ ministry, he writes about Nicodemus.

As I was reading this, another connection came to mind. The way that Nicodemus approaches Jesus is almost a picture of the kind of prayer written about in Matthew 6:6. Nicodemus approaches Jesus under the cover of darkness, a prayer in secret (John 3:2). He then praises Jesus and acknowledges his intimate connection with God, something I find highly unusual given the portrait of Pharisees in the Gospels.

Nicodemus then proceeds to wrestle with Jesus in the conversation. Acknowledgment and struggle provides a great picture of prayer. We go to Jesus because, like Peter, we have nowhere else to turn. “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God (John 6:68-69).” Yet, in spite of this realization, prayer is often a struggle. Jesus offers Nicodemus difficult images and challenges, to which Nicodemus responds with stubborn literalism.

Nicodemus provides a rich image for me. I can picture myself sitting on a rock wall having the same conversation with Jesus – awed by his presence, yet struggling to wrap myself around his words. Perhaps it should encourage us that it is only after the struggle that Jesus leads him into the deep mystery of faith.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.” John 3:16-21

Nicodemus really doesn’t do a lot of talking in this prayerful conversation. Instead he receives a strong challenge to move from seeking Jesus in the darkness to move into the light, love, and forgiveness of God given and revealed in the Son. Perhaps this is our challenge as well: to prayerfully approach the Triune God in secret and then to move out of that dark place of challenge and praise to share the light that we’ve received, namely the challenge of God’s strong Christocentric love.

The Right Way to Pray

PrayerMy daughter was getting ready for bed last night, and we started to say our bedtime prayers. Like many four year olds, she’s really a talker. So lately instead of praying out loud myself, I’ve asked her to do the bedtime prayer. It always starts like this:

“Daddy, how do we start?” “Well honey, we usually start by saying ‘Thank you God’ or ‘Dear God’ or something like that.” So she starts and begins by thanking God for everything. Last night, however, she had this brilliant insight. She said, “Daddy, do you think we can sing our prayers?” Astounded by her monastic leanings I said, “Of course we can!” You’ll have to imagine the tune, but I think you can make do.
“Thank you God for Mommy, Daddy, and Bubby. I love them so much and we love you too. Thank you for this house you picked out for us, because we really like it…especially the ceiling.” This was followed by some mumbled song-praying, but I distinctly made out the words unicorn and castle. We closed with a communal prayer as she reminded me, “Now daddy, let’s sing Amen together!”

We then had a brief theological discussion when I told her that I thought God probably loved that prayer. She said, “Do you think God heard it? He doesn’t come around here.” Of course, all four year olds have a deep grasp of the invisibility and omnipresence of God, so I said, “Yes honey, I know he heard it.”

She then rattled off some serious apophatic postmodern theologizing on the nature of God. “Daddy…God is like when you take paper and you cut it out with scissors and then you have the parts left over…” Of course, this was far more than my inflexible calcified adult mind could handle, so I said, “You’re exactly right. Now go to sleep.” And she did.

The Movement of the Father

Yesterday I preached on the Prodigal Son. I noticed something interesting that didn’t make it into the sermon, so I thought I’d post it here. There are two verses that really caught my attention.

So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Luke 15:20

Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. Luke 15:28

Both verses emphasize the movement of the father. The father moves out to embrace the sinner, and he moves out to embrace the bitter firstborn. What does this tell us? This father isn’t passive. This is a father who won’t let his status stand in the way of reaching out to those he loves.

There can be no doubt that this is a reference to the God Jesus prayed to as Father. He reaches out to the flagrant sinner; he embraces the bitter hardworking firstborn. He does this all on the terms of those who are lost, rather than on the terms of his own status.

So, who are we called to be? We’re called to be those who “go,” and this shouldn’t be a surprise. After all, from Abraham to Jesus, God’s people have been called to go. Abraham was called to go and form a new nation blessed to be a blessing, and Jesus calls his disciples to go into all the world making disciples and baptizing them (Matthew 28:19). A missional God will lead to a missional Church.

What Kind of Tree Are You?

Barbara Walters is infamous for asking Katherine Hepburn, “What kind of tree are you?” Of course, Hepburn actually said she was a tree before Walters followed with this question, but the strangeness of the question carried the day. There have been quite a few laughs at her expense because of this question over the years. Even though this wasn’t her actual question, maybe it wasn’t so bad to begin with. After all, the prophet Jeremiah was asking this same question some 2,600 years ago!

In Jeremiah 17:5-10, the prophet asks, “What kind of tree are you?” Yet, he suggests there are really only two kinds of trees: shrubs in the desert and trees planted by water. Are you the kind of tree that is only a shrub in the desert, the kind that barely survives in dry wastelands or withers in Tel-Malah, the uninhabitible salt lands? You are if you place your trust in your own strength, Jeremiah says. On their other hand, perhaps you are a tree planted by water. If you trust in the Lord, the you are blessed. It is as if you send out roots to a never-ending stream. You’ll not have to fear the heat or drought, because your source of growth, comfort, and stability comes from the very source of all creation.

Far too often, I’m a shrub in the desert. I rely on my own strength, energy, and perseverance. Instead of sending out roots to the unimaginable source of all strength, I think I can tough things out. Instead of prayerful renewal, I rely on self-sufficient insufficiency. Yet the prophets get it right. Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint. May God grant me the courage and wisdom to turn from self-sufficiency to God-sufficiency every day of my life.

Breviary Envy

During my Clinical Pastoral Education stint at the University of Kentucky, I had the pleasure of working with three Catholic seminarians. They were great guys and as different as you can possibly imagine. Yet, one thing they held in common was a large black book called a Breviary. As you may know, the Breviary is a book used to pray the Divine Hours. It contains the Psalter, prayers, scripture, excerpts from the lives of Saints, and so on. Well, as a good United Methodist I had what I like to call “Breviary Envy.” We don’t really have something like that, with the exception of the materials from the Order of Saint Luke, and we are certainly under no orders to pray the Divine Hours.

Even though I had this envy, I never purchased any of the Catholic Breviaries. Maybe I felt like it would be too “Catholic,” or some Protestant sentiment like that. However, a few months ago I heard about The Anglican Breviary, and thought that would be something a good Wesley-honoring United Methodist can get a little more excited about! Perhaps having Anglican on the cover would give me a good Protestant excuse to pray the Ave, Maria! So I went to Daniel Lula’s website and began to check it out.

From 1916 to 1955, scholars laboriously translated the Anglican Breviary, but according to Lula, it fell out of favor as early as the 60s due to modernizing trends. As he puts it:

By the early to mid 1990s, the Anglican Breviary was all but extinct. Apart from the quiet recitation of Tridentine Catholic priests and religious, a few devoted Anglo-Catholics, and those students of Gregorian Chant, the historic Daily Office had virtually perished in the Western Church.

Once again citing from Lula’s website, he decided to keep the Breviary in print through organizing a reprint,

In early 1998, I first considered the possibility of organizing a private reprint of the Anglican Breviary. Believing that only such a move could save this great liturgical work for future generations, I commissioned the reprint, taking the example of the Breviary’s original creators in trusting God to bless the enterprise. The response has been overwhelming, and by early 2001 a second reprint was necessary. I am committed to keeping the Breviary in print in perpetuity, and to assisting all those who wish to learn to recite the historic Divine Office to do so.

As formidiable as the Anglican Breviary is, I look forward to using it as a tool to deepen and enrich my prayer life. I don’t plan on using it exclusively at this point, but I do plan on becoming familiar with it and learning from the depth of Christian Tradition that is contained therein.

Signs of Spiritual Enlightenment

Gordon Atkinson at Real Live Preacher posted these signs of spiritual enlightenment back in November. I know many folks have already read this, but it was interesting enough that I wanted to link to it even now. Here they are for those of you too busy to click the link:

  • The embracing of paradox
  • The love of mystery in the presence of unanswered questions
  • The acceptance of your small place in reality
  • The willingness to engage in spiritual exercises without knowing how they will work or even what it would mean for them to work
  • The increase of love, grace, forgiveness, and patience visible in your life

Part of me wonders if these are true signs of spiritual enlightenment or if they are signs he has interpreted as enlightenment in his own life. I can say that I share some of these traits, but I haven’t necessarily considered them signs of spiritual enlightenment. Befuddlement…perhaps.  Hopefully we can embrace a blessed befuddlement as a kind of grace that we can receive.  I’ve heard theologians talk about the simplicity beyond complexity, and I think blessed befuddlement can be that simplicity that we should strive toward.  Is this the goal? Maybe the true end of our search is realizing that creation is so darn complex that we just have to shake our heads and smile a perplexed smile of amazement.