Prayers for Kindness

If there is a common human language it could be argued that prayer is that language. Though people in our world certainly pray differently or understand themselves to be praying to a different god or praying with different intents; nevertheless they pray. Even people who are not particularly religious in a formal sense pray. Prayer it would seem is a fairly universal act.

Still, many people find prayer difficult. Even those that pray sense that they don’t really pray well and will often admit that they don’t really know what they are doing in prayer. Ask people why we pray or what really constitutes prayer and the answers are littered with mystery and uncertainty. Still, almost everyone acknowledges that we ought to pray and we are most often grateful when we are kept in the prayers of others.

The opening 14 verses of Paul’s letter to the Colossians seems a good place to start with a conversation about prayer. His introduction within the letter is full of acknowledgements about how much he has prayed for them. In Paul’s mind these prayers are both part of the substance as well as the vehicle for their relationship. Prayer is a part of the union they have together and it is key to what holds them together.

The first thing that is striking about Paul’s understanding of prayer is that prayers of thanksgiving are the proper foundation of prayer for the church because our life and being rests in God’s work of salvation. By communicating and reminding ourselves of the certainty and faithfulness of God’s love and grace we are freed. We are free because we have a hope that cannot be shaken and that hope leads us towards effervescent acts of Christ’s love towards the world. For Paul prayer starts with the acknowledgement of the certainty and faithfulness of God’s grace for us. The illustration that comes to me is that of someone with a memory problem. If we don’t remind ourselves of the truth then we forget. If we move out to do anything in this world without this truth of our God's grace than everything we do gets warped. We forget this truth and must remind ourselves everyday. Thus, this is the foundation for prayer.

Another word that comes to mind when I read Paul’s introduction to his letter to the Colossians is the word intimacy.

First, intimacy in the sense of the intimate connection forged mysteriously between those who pray with and for one another. Paul most likely did not know these Colossians all that well. His actual time spent with them was short in all likelihood and yet he speaks to a kind of connection that goes beyond time spent. This idea that Paul seems to gravitate towards points to a longstanding way of understanding prayer particularly cultivated within the ancient church and particular within monastic life.

When we think about monks we think about a retreat from the world. Yet the monastics themselves have never understood it as such. They retreat in particular ways for the sake of being present in more radical and important ways to the rest of the world. They would say that prayer is one of those ways that they are radically present. For monastics the life of prayer produces a kind of intimate relationship with others. Their prayer is a dialogue and a union with God and with other people that they actually believes has the effect of holding the world together.

This kind of understanding of prayer can also be found in the writings and practices of the Catholic priest Henri Nouwen. In his book The Way of the Heart. Nouwen understands the intimacy produced by prayer in relational terms. While prayer involves the head he argues that prayer is not primarily a cerebral enterprise. Without Nouwen I wouldn’t know how to understand Paul’s statement in this letter that “we have not ceased praying for you”. Surely, he doesn’t mean that they pray all day and everyday? That sounds impractical and horribly boring. Still we are admonished elsewhere in scripture to “pray without ceasing”. Again, it is Nouwen’s prayer of the heart that helps me understand what is meant by this.

The prayer of the heart is simply acknowledgment of the active presence of God’s spirit at work in one’s life. Prayer is not located out there. God is not located out there but God resides within us in some mysterious way. When we understand that the place of prayer is within our own hearts then we simply allow ourselves to not so much pray more but to recognize the prayer that is already taking place within us. The prayer of the heart is the active acknowledgement of all of who or what has entered our lives and bringing all of that into God’s presence at the center of our being. Now what does that mean? I’m not totally sure but I think the basic invitation is no so much to pray more but to live prayerfully and their is a difference between those two things.

The second way the word intimacy comes to mind in regards to Paul’s thoughts about prayer are related to Paul’s keen awareness of the intimate relationships between knowledge and practice. To know God has everything to do with how we practice that knowing. Paul has no time for claims of esoteric wisdom; for true knowledge of God is always the practical love of one’s neighbor. This brings us to the gospel text I wish to speak of with is Luke's parable known as The Good Samaritan.

The parable of the good Samaritan is probably the most familiar of all parables. In fact it has become so well known that the meaning of the parable can be minimized in all its familiarity quite easily. It is also quite easy to begin moralizing when we use this parable.

I think the first thing this parable invites us to do is to acknowledge that we cannot know good and evil. We often think and are taught that one of the things that is given to us as Christians is the ability to discern good from evil but that is not biblical. When Adam and Eve were in the garden in what we believe was perfect relationship with God and one another they did not have knowledge of good and evil. The ability to discern good and evil perfectly is something that only God can do. In fact it is the main attribute that separates God from us. The tree of our downfall is the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. To be human by its nature is to NOT have the ability to discern good and evil perfectly. To be able to do so assumes that we can see all of any particular situation but of course we cannot because we are not God. Our knowledge is limited and finite and so we cannot handle such a burden.

So the life of discipleship is not a life primarily marked by knowing the good from the evil but rather a life meant and purposed to know only God and God’s mercy. Part of how we know God and God’s mercy is this prayer of the heart that Nouwen describes. This prayer helps us move past the black and white of good and evil and invites us to identify, humanize, and embrace the most unlikely of neighbors. Prayer can move us from the natural condition of self-preoccupation and preservation (which is why we so quickly want to name good and evil to protect our own self interests) to one of profound concern for others.

Too often we simply make the point of this parable as “we should all be like the Samaritan” and that is certainly one reading of the parable. But, I’d also invite us to put ourselves in the ditch rather than as the passer bye. The question then comes to us who is the person we’d least like to be walking by when we needed help? Who is the person we’d be most scandalized to receive assistance from? This is the profound truth of this story. I’ve heard of a preacher who had the courage to preach this sermon in New York after 9/11 and in her account the Samaritan was a Muslim terrorist; this woman a Jew herself said for her it was Ha-mas. What this parable screams to us is that we mustn't dehumanize even what we perceive as our greatest enemy. We cannot possibly see or understand the whole story.

The lawyer in the parable of Jesus’ telling so despises the Samaritan that he can’t even use his name. When asked who was the neighbor he says “the one that showed him kindness”. It is the scandalizing truth of “who helps” that carries the power of this parable. We are not primarily the “helper” but the one lying in the ditch if we want to hear this parable clearly. This parable invites us to identify, humanize, and embrace the most unlikely of neighbors.

While the lawyer can’t say the word Samaritan another word that he uses in response to Jesus is quite powerful. It is the word kindness (sometimes translated to mercy). I’d like to offer that the true mark of neighborliness is kindness. I think even those of us who are the most ethically minded have forgotten this important truth at times. Sometimes I’m reminded that even the people who I agree with I don’t end up liking very much because they have ceased to be kind. I find myself backing away from them not because of their ideas but the way they pro-port those ideas. It seems these days we are more concerned with rights than forgiveness, more concerned with justice then mercy, and more concerned with equality then compassion. Now I believe in individual rights, justice, and equality but not without forgiveness, mercy, and compassion. Where is the kindness? When we simply work for rights, justice and equality without kindness we perpetuate the very thing we seek to combat.

When I think of the prayers our world is most in need of I think of a prayer for kindness. Perhaps true human kindness is the greatest fruit of God’s spirit. When we are kind we acknowledge what God is always trying to restore and remind us of and that is our humanity.

I think part of how we come to know our most hated enemies as neighbors is through the deep way of prayer. Something changes in us and between us when we bring people into God’s presence at the center of our being. We don’t bring them in with the form of chastising prayers of "oh, God help this horrible person realize how horrible they are do they stop inconveniencing or hurting me” but rather “God help me understand, love, and see this person as human”.

Poem by Tony Hoagland referenced in post entitled American Beauty

America
by Tony Hoagland

Then one of the students with blue hair and a tongue stud
Says that America is for him a maximum-security prison

Whose walls are made of RadioShacks and Burger Kings, and MTV episodes
Where you can’t tell the show from the commercials,

And as I consider how to express how full of shit I think he is,
He says that even when he’s driving to the mall in his Isuzu

Trooper with a gang of his friends, letting rap music pour over them
Like a boiling Jacuzzi full of ballpeen hammers, even then he feels

Buried alive, captured and suffocated in the folds
Of the thick satin quilt of America

And I wonder if this is a legitimate category of pain,
or whether he is just spin doctoring a better grade,

And then I remember that when I stabbed my father in the dream last night,
It was not blood but money

That gushed out of him, bright green hundred-dollar bills
Spilling from his wounds, and—this is the weird part—,

He gasped “Thank god—those Ben Franklins were
Clogging up my heart—

And so I perish happily,
Freed from that which kept me from my liberty”—

Which was when I knew it was a dream, since my dad
Would never speak in rhymed couplets,

And I look at the student with his acne and cell phone and phony ghetto clothes
And I think, “I am asleep in America too,

And I don’t know how to wake myself either,”
And I remember what Marx said near the end of his life:

“I was listening to the cries of the past,
When I should have been listening to the cries of the future.”

But how could he have imagined 100 channels of 24-hour cable
Or what kind of nightmare it might be

When each day you watch rivers of bright merchandise run past you
And you are floating in your pleasure boat upon this river

Even while others are drowning underneath you
And you see their faces twisting in the surface of the waters

And yet it seems to be your own hand
Which turns the volume higher?

American Beauty

We hold these truths to be self evident that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

These are good words; beautiful words. Perhaps there are even better or more beautiful ideas behind those words. We often argue about the good words in this document and in the constitution. After all, they are just words and we can each interpret those words in different ways. We long to know the meaning behind the words. Perhaps, the still larger question is do we believe those words and have we lived those words.

Before we pat ourselves on the back to quickly let us think critically for a moment about our history. When those words were penned you noticed that they used the word men. You could argue that they meant humanity by the generic term men but truth be told they didn’t. Our first constitution did not offer equal rights to woman and some might argue that even today our practices do not affirm the statement that l all human beings are created equal.

The contradiction between the claim that all men are created equal and the existence of American slavery attracted comment when the Declaration of Independence was first published. Congress, having made a few changes in wording, deleted nearly a fourth of the draft before publication, removing a passage critical of the slave trade, and many members of Congress, Jefferson included, owned black slaves. In 1776, abolitionist Thomas Day responding to the hypocrisy in the Declaration wrote: “If there be an object truly ridiculous in nature, it is an American patriot, signing resolutions of independency with the one hand, and with the other brandishing a whip over his affrighted slaves”. (Wikipedia)

All that said, still those are beautiful and true words that were penned in the first lines of the Declaration of Independence. Though we must be critical of our history we can also not ignore the good that has come from those words. Many good things have started and have come about because of those words.

The essence of these words come from the political and philosophical thought of John Locke and Richard Cumberland and others; it is in direct opposition to the idea of the divine right of kings which had its core an idea that people weren’t created equal. Our declaration says in essence that if there is a divine right then it is the right of all people. Of course we’ve had to be careful about that same slippery slope. We ourselves have to be careful with our language around America being a Christian nation or somehow uniquely blessed or chosen. When we go down that route, ironically we begin to embody the very thing those words were penned to combat, a form of divine right.

Let us also remember that America was not founded on Christianity but on religious tolerance; there is a difference. In fact many of the early people that fled to America would not have been considered Orthodox in their Christian belief which is one reason they came to American in the first place. Thomas Jefferson whom we own much of the religious language of our early documents would be kicked out of most bible believing churches these days. Jefferson had his own bible where he took out all of the miracles and many of the things he didn’t like. Jefferson was a theist in a broad Judeo/Christian sense but we can hardly call him Christian from a contemporary perspective or even traditional perspective.

When we come to a day like the Fourth of July we must ask what we are celebrating. Most people would say that we are celebrating America or being American; our independence and freedom. Certainly there are things to honor and celebrate within those things. However, there are also questions raised. Like are we really free and independent. In his poem called America, Tony Hoagland would argue that we aren’t free at all but rather that we are imprisoned by consumerism and the almighty dollar.

Still the biggest question of all for me comes down to a question of identity. Even on the Fourth of July where I am certainly proud to be an American and willing to celebrate the good things we’ve produced and even more willing to pray and work for a better future; still my identity as an American is subservient to a much greater identity.

The church is not a place where we celebrate American identity. The church is where we remember that we belong to another kingdom. We are children of God not of America. The greatest idolatries always have to do with our identity. The question of idolatry is a question of whom and what do I serve? I do not serve, I do not belong, and I am not fundamentally defined by being American. I am a child of God. I am a resident of the Kingdom of God. If we wish to follow the Jesus way there is no other choice; we cannot serve two masters.

This morning I am thinking of Isaiah 52:1-10. Isaiah’s prophecy comes to a nation and a people in exile; a nation that has suffered greatly and that is ruled by an oppressive government.

The prophet calls Israel to AWAKE! When it is time for a people to move forward into a new time there is a certain amount of energy that must be given to the process of shaking of the dust. Moving forward in a new identity is not about forgetting the past but it is also not about living in the past. Today is a new day and we must be able to imagine a future that is not bound by our past but also not divorced from it.

The prophet talks about beauty. That which is defined as beautiful is those who announce peace, those who bring good news, those who announce salvation, and those that say God reigns.

Finally, the prophet talks about God’s heart and intention for all people and all nations; it is a good intention defined by salvation to all.

Certainly, I don’t pretend that this prophecy and exhortation was meant for us in America. Still, the truths exhorted I do believe would serve us well. I a healthy kind of love for America would be tied to a desire to forge a new and evolving identity. Our patriotism often gets stuck in the nostalgia of the past and its remembrances. But the purpose of remembering the past is not nostalgia but rather to inform the present and our future. We need to shake of the dust and realize that we’ve not nearly arrived at embodying all of the things we said this country was going to be about.

Also, I believe that the way in which the prophet defines beauty ought to serve as a template for us as American Christians on how we defined whether America is beautiful. Do we announce and work for peace? Do we bring good news? Do we announce salvation? Do we recognize that we are not God and thus live with a kind of humility that such a concept ought to produce? Finally, have we remembered that God cares for all nations and people; America is nothing special in God’s eyes.

As we shared the Lord’s Supper together in church this morning I was also reminded of John’s gospel chapter 6:52-61. I’ve continued to ask myself what American the beautiful would look like or what American beauty might be. It is the Eucharist that reminds me of a great truth about beauty. That is that what makes something beautiful is that it is true. By true I don’t simply mean factual but I mean something that is true in the broadest and deepest sense of that word. Too often we think about beauty as synonymous with pretty. However, the truth is not always pretty but I do believe it is beautiful. Take the Eucharist itself; it is not pretty but it is beautiful because of the truth that it reveals and embodies about us and God and us and one another.

I think the key to American beauty has everything to do with our willingness to attend to the truth. Too often our forms of patriotism are a lot of sentimentality, a preservation of prettiness, and not an actual pursuit of beauty or the truth. Interestingly enough much of the same can be said of our Christianity. We need to step out of sentimentalist and the preservation of prettiness and into and actual pursuit of beauty.

The invitation for us as followers of Jesus who are also Americans is to acknowledge that the truth is beautiful but that it isn’t always pretty. As followers of Jesus we know the way to beauty. It is the way of peace, bringing good news, announcing salvation (which is literally releasing prisoners), and living with a great humility that understands we are not God. This humility is in the work of all great artists and they often lose their way when they forget it.

The truth is that America is beautiful and quite ugly. As followers of Jesus we first belong to the Kingdom of God. Our invitation is to seek this kingdom first and all things will be added unto us.