Just Breathe: Learning to pray where we're at when there are no words ~ Psalm 62:1-8; Luke 4:42-44; Mark 6:30-32 (Life Together Sermon Series, No. 3)

For God alone my soul waits in silence;
    from him comes my salvation.
² He alone is my rock and my salvation,
    my fortress; I shall never be shaken.

³ How long will you assail a person,
    will you batter your victim, all of you,
    as you would a leaning wall, a tottering fence?
⁴ Their only plan is to bring down a person of prominence.
    They take pleasure in falsehood;
they bless with their mouths,
    but inwardly they curse. Selah

⁵ For God alone my soul waits in silence,
    for my hope is from him.
⁶ He alone is my rock and my salvation,
    my fortress; I shall not be shaken.
⁷ On God rests my deliverance and my honor;
    my mighty rock, my refuge is in God.

⁸ Trust in him at all times, O people;
    pour out your heart before him;
    God is a refuge for us. Selah ~ Psalm 62:1-8

⁴² At daybreak, Jesus went out to a solitary place. The people were looking for him and when they came to where he was, they tried to keep him from leaving them. ⁴³ But he said, “I must proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God to the other towns also, because that is why I was sent.” ⁴⁴ And he kept on preaching in the synagogues of Judea. ~ Luke 4:42-44

³⁰ The apostles gathered around Jesus and reported to him all they had done and taught. ³¹ Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” ³² So they went away by themselves in a boat to a solitary place. ~ Mark 6:30-32

Psalm 62 begins, “For God alone my soul waits in silence.” If only it were that easy. Nothing proves more difficult and shameful for people than admitting that prayer is hard. I take comfort from the fact that even prayer titans, like Theresa of Avila, struggled. She makes a great remark about shaking the hourglass so that the sands would run quicker and the time of prayer would end. Even the number of books on prayer can be quite overwhelming – filled with page after page of dos and don’ts, of rabbit trails and complicated instructions, leaving many of us feeling overwhelmed and burdened, asking, “Am I the only one who struggles praying?” And today’s scripture readings which highlight silence, praying, and rest, are meant to bring healing to those of us who struggle with prayer, with finding our words, and with expectations that feel too great and with faith that feels always too small. These sentiments are the inspiration for the poem by Mary Oliver who says:

Praying by Mary Oliver

It doesn’t have to be the blue iris,

it could be weeds in a vacant lot,

or a few small stones;

just pay attention,

then patch a few words together

and don’t try to make them elaborate,

this isn’t a contest

but the doorway into thanks,

and a silence

in which another voice may speak.

Mary Oliver catches a lot of the spirit of our texts today by reminding us that prayer does not have to be the blue iris; rather, that prayer is an orientation which honors intent, silence and thankfulness. It doesn’t have to be a perfect act and it’s not a contest but can be found in the weeds and small stones of our most feeble efforts. And that even there, in that place, God dwells as well. If the Scriptures are our guide and Mary Oliver is right. You can . . .

a.  pray in the desert (Geography matters)
b. pray when you can’t find the words (Just breathe)
c. pray words that are not your own (Read).
d. pray as a human being (Rest)

a.    Pray in the desert (Geography matters)

When we look at the life of Jesus we see that prayer is not so much some special task or event but concerns being attentive and present to God where you are at. We recognize that prayer is about being intentional rather than exceptional and that even in the weeds God is there. But the geography matters and the place is often more important than the words. Being in a quiet, solitary place where we can be unadorned and without constant distraction is critical for prayer. It means recognizing that we were made for absence as well as connection. You can’t build a fire if there is no space between the logs of your life. The challenge my friends is that we carry a community in our pocket with a thousand diversions. We don’t need to pray because cell phones entertain us and distract us from an ache that only prayer can fill, unfortunately.  But Jesus constantly prayed in the desert – no temple, no rabbi, no order, and not even an audience is required. Not even loneliness can keep you from God but never being alone can keep you from experiencing God’s presence and your own soul. We pray in the desert not so much because we wish to be heard but so that we can hear. Where is your desert?

        b.    Pray when you cannot pray (Just breathe)

If we can pray in the desert then we can also pray when the desert is inside us.  I often meet people who find themselves in the midst of great pain and longing, who confess that they simply cannot pray. And I gently tell them that they are already praying and that God is found even in the place where they are at. When you cannot pray, when your words fail, remember that even in the desert place, the lonely place, God is present, as close as your breath. Just breathe.

It’s interesting to remember that when Moses asked for God’s name he is given the mysterious response, “I am who I am . . . this is my name forever, this is my title for all generations” (Exodus 3:14-15). Our best guess is that this name is pronounced Yahweh, made up of the four Hebrew letters YHWH. It was considered literally unspeakable for Jews. However, later rabbis have argued that the original pronunciation was meant to mimic the sound of inhaling and exhaling. This revelation has astounded me and utterly changed my prayer life. It means that I am no longer forced to always figure out what I should pray at every moment but can simply be attentive to the fact that every breath is praying the name of God – every breath I take is a prayer. It means we don’t simply pray but that we are in our very being made for prayer and live by prayer.

Augustine will say, “You were within me, LORD, but I was outside myself. Friends, God is as close as your breath. Just breathe.

        c.     You can pray words that are not your own (Read)

We should take note that while Jesus prayed often – he did not give much direct teaching on how one should pray and only offered one prayer directly. So where can we look? Bonhoeffer, tapping into a long tradition within Christianity is very helpful and encourages us to turn our Bible reading into prayer, called Lectio Divina or Divine Reading.

In this form of prayer we read not for information or to satisfy our own curiosity but look for transformation – a transformation that happens as we submit ourselves and surrender to God’s Word and God’s work.

Bonhoeffer, in Life Together, writes, “The Word of Scripture should never stop sounding in your ears and working in you all day long, just like the words of someone you love. And just as you do not analyze the words of someone you love, but accept them as they are said to you, accept the Word of Scripture and ponder it in your heart, as Mary did. That is all . . . Do not ask “How shall I pass this on?” but “What does it say to me?” then ponder this word long in your heart until it has gone right into you and taken possession of you.” 

What might that look like?  My father was an avid outdoorsman who loved hunting and fishing. He would have been thrilled at my moving to the Pacific Northwest. One year I called him on his cell phone and he picked up on the very first ring with a whispered, “Hello.” I asked him what he was doing and in shushed tones he said, “I’m in a deer blind.” Confused by this, because it wasn’t deer season, I said, “You shouldn’t be hunting right now.” He whispered back, “I’m not hunting. I’m looking.” 

Lectio Divina is like my father in the deer blind without a gun. We come to the scriptures not to hunt for answers but to stand still, pay attention and learn to be astonished. It involves a delicate balance of silence and word – much like we find in Psalm 62, which was read earlier: “For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation.” It’s a simple method of attention.

A.  Silence Lectio divina is punctuated by times of silence between the reading of a short passage of Scripture (4-8 verses is ideal)

B.  The different ways of paying attention involve reading the passage three times and each time, paying attention to different aspects:  what shimmers – what word or phrase am I drawn to, how does this word or phrase speak to my life, and what does the passage invite me to pray?

C.  The final step is to surrender to God in silence – to believe that God will accomplish his Word in you. 

d. You can pray as a human being (Rest).

 

In Mark 6:30, Jesus invites his disciples to “come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” This verse is often lifted out of context, which is fine because it is a simple, powerful imperative. However, the point Jesus is making becomes even more compelling when placed in context. If we go back to the beginning of Mark 6, we discover that the disciples were commissioned for ministry and given authority to preach the gospel, heal the sick, and cast out demons. This happens on the cusp of also real tragedy – in vss. 14-29, Jesus’ close ministry colleague John the Baptist is beheaded in a senseless act of violence requiring that the disciples go and fetch his body for burial. In the midst of ministry success and terrible loss, Mark tells us, “the apostles gathered around Jesus and told him all that they had done and taught.” 

We can imagine what that might have sounded like. “Jesus, You won’t believe it! John and I encountered a demon-possessed boy, we prayed, and he was freed from years of trauma and affliction.” “Jesus, Judas and I came across this woman who was crippled, anointed her with oil, and wham-o she was healed.” And Jesus says, “That’s amazing. So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to need a bigger tent, more staff, a slick sign, and a snappy new mission statement!” No, Jesus has little time for ministry reports but rather invites them to take time away – to a restful place of prayer. 

Jesus understands that our most compassionate responses to people can get us into trouble and that anyone who works in a helping profession understands that nothing is more toxic to serving people than endlessly serving people.  

Friends, as I have sat with many of you over coffee or food, listened to your stories, been amazed at your faith and marveled at your courage, even wept at your loss, I believe that Jesus is saying to many of you – “come away and rest awhile.” This church has been living a Mark 6 life and some of you need to “come away and rest.” That is my prayer for you. You are only human. Just breathe and rest.