Sermon for the Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

Texts:
2 Kings 4:42-44;
Ephesians 3:14-21;
John 6:1-21.

Families are the place most of us begin learn. Sometimes by careful verbal instruction. Some things such as tying shoelaces are taught by demonstration. Other things are picked up by observing attitudes of others toward, say, Aunt Iphigenia’s money problems, or Cousin Arthur’s questionable cooking. Families have strengths and weaknesses in communication processes.

The church is a family too, and we learn things in this family in the same ways. Some things are carefully taught to us; some things we pick up as we go along. The Lutheran family has strengths in its teaching, such as freedom of conscience for each believer, and the conviction that we are saved by faith through God’s grace and not through our works.

But a frequent criticism of the Lutheran family is that we do not teach prayer and spirituality very well. You know the Lord’s Prayer and a table grace? You’re good to go. We lean into Jesus’ admonition to pray in secret, not on street corners. We study stuff together but praying together feels risky unless the pastor is doing the talking. Open-ended prayers make us nervous, and long prayers that might make the service go overtime are discouraged. Does any of this sound familiar?

How did our church family end up here? Martin Luther had a robust prayer life. Jesus prayed often and publicly. Lutherans certainly value prayer. Our liturgies are full of the lyrical poetry of sung and spoken prayer. We believe that prayer is a necessary accompaniment to wrestling with complex moral and social problems.

I once spent four weeks in the inner city of Philadelphia learning about urban ministry.  My hostess was a delightful German Lutheran who taught me the table grace “Come Lord Jesus be our guest”. But other than saying grace at meals, it can be argued that Lutherans are on the shy side when it comes to prayer – perhaps even the prayers we say in private.

It’s not that we don’t pray. We encourage praying for people, church, and world in worship and some of you actually do it. Or, at least contemplate doing so. Our church council, committees, and task groups pray together as do our Bible study groups. But there’s room for improvement.

There are many kinds of prayer. Some you know as well as your own name; prayers like those we say or sing in worship like the “Holy Holy Holy”, the creeds, or the Lord’s Prayer.

Today in our scripture we have a prayer of exceptional beauty from the Letter to the Ephesians, a prayer sometimes called the Apostle’s prayer. It simple, yet from it we learn a lot about prayer.

The prayer was written to the Christian community and although it is addressed to the Ephesians, it’s more likely that it was a circular letter for all the churches in Asia Minor.  Before the prayer begins the apostle says, “For this reason I bow my knees before the Father…”  It was typical of worshippers to stand up while praying, and sit to hear scripture and teachings.

However in Ephesians 3:6-7 the apostle says that he is a servant of the good news of Jesus Christ. Servants would kneel in obedience and humility before a master from whom they were asking something. The apostle considers himself a servant of the good news of Jesus. Therefore out of reverent obedience he chose to kneel in prayer. He was free in Christ, but also joyfully captive to the good news of Jesus and he entered the presence of God in prayer in that joyful obedience.

The prayer is direct and simple. Eugene Peterson, author of The Message, a plain language version of the Bible translated it this way: “I ask [God]to strengthen you by his Spirit – not a brute strength but a glorious inner strength – that Christ will live in you as you open the door and invite him in.  And I ask him that with both feet planted firmly on love, you’ll be able to take in with all Christians the extravagant dimensions of Christ’s love. Reach out and experience the breadth!  Test its length! Plumb the depths! Rise to the heights! Live full lives, full in the fullness of God.”

The prayer concludes with a description of God’s glory which Peterson renders as: “God can do anything, you know – far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us. Glory to God in the church!  Glory to God in the Messiah, in Jesus!  Glory down all the generations! Glory through all the millennia! Oh yes!

Prayer may be formal or informal, sung or spoken, rough and ready or polished and practiced.  Think of how many ways you communicate with your beloved ones, friends, or neighbors. What works on earth surely also works with our beloved heavenly loved One who is infinitely worthy of our trusting hearts. While there’s no right and wrong to pray, an effective prayer begins when you say to God: I’m letting go, I’m open to anything, I’m not in charge, I am your servant.

I have spoken of prayer itself, but I have not spoken of the outcome of prayer. But see what comes of prayer in the Gospel. Jesus took five loaves of barley and two fish and prayed the customary blessing over the meal. And five thousand were fed – with abundance left over.

As Eugene Peterson says, God can do anything, you know. But you’ll never know what that anything is until you begin to ask. And saying thank you is good too. And that’s prayer.

Amen.