Prayer

Psalm 62: 1-2, 8, 11-12a; Psalm 22

FPC; 10-19-08

           As I studied Psalm 22, I recalled a scene from The West Wing, that Emmy-winning television show in which the main character is Jeb Bartlett, the fictitious president of the United States.

          In one episode, the President orders his Secret Service detail to block all entrances to the National Cathedral so that he might have a little one on one time with the Lord.  The president wants to talk about divine justice following the funeral of his longtime friend and personal assistant, Mrs. Landingham, who was killed tragically and violently. 

          The day has not gone well for Bartlett.  The American embassy in Haiti is under siege.  The country is about to learn that their president has multiple sclerosis, a fact he kept from voters at election time; his party doesn’t want him to run for reelection; and his enemies are calling for a special prosecutor to see if he violated any laws by keeping his illness from the public.  Then, just when he needs her the most, Mrs. Landingham is taken from him.   

          With the cathedral doors closed to all, Bartlett begins his lament, his expression of sorrow and anger to God.  Speaking in a mixture of English and Latin and with a smattering of sarcasm, Bartlett rattles off a list of woes that have struck him.  Here is a sampling of what he says to the Lord:  “Am I to believe these things from a righteous God, a just God, a wise God?”  “I was your servant, your messenger on earth; I did my duty.”  (from The Christian Century, June 13, 2001)

          That cathedral scene shook me with its realism and honesty.  In a similar way, I think, the Psalmist’s laments have the power to shake from us any ill-conceived notion that God cannot be approached with our anger, trepidation, honest doubts and deep sorrow.

          I picture the Psalmist screaming at God as he prays: “My God, why have you forsaken me?  Why are you so far from helping me?”  The Psalmist goes on to describe his dire situation in terms of being tormented by sickness and by relentless and oppressive enemies that surround and mock him.  The adversarial powers confronting him are like bulls and lions, menacing and life-threatening. 

          This worshipper has lost self-esteem, and at one point, speaks of himself as a worm, a subhuman creature.  He is in a state of chaos.  He is filled with hopelessness.  He has arrived at the breaking point.

          In the middle of this portrait of dismal chaos and despair, the worshipper expresses trust in God.  He proclaims that God is holy and remembers the ways God has demonstrated love and care for God’s people.  

          Even in the midst of lament, the worshipper expresses praise and thanksgiving:  “I will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you…. All you offspring of Jacob, glorify [the Lord]. For he did not despise or abhor the affliction of the afflicted; he did not hide his face from me, but heard when I cried to him.” 

          This Psalm, replete with lament but also containing elements of trust and thanksgiving, is a microcosm of the Psalms as a whole. 

          There are Psalms of lament, sorrow or deep despair. But there are also Psalms of trust such as Psalm 23. (“The Lord is my shepherd… he leads me beside still waters; he restores my soul…”)  And, there are some Psalms, such as this morning’s Call to Worship, which can be categorized as Psalms of praise and thanksgiving. (“It is good to give thanks to the Lord, to sing praises to your name, O Most High.”)       

          Sometimes the soul is filled with lament.  At other times, trust alone resides in the heart.  At still other times in life lips cannot help but offer expressions of praise and thanksgiving.  But most often in life, like the worshipper we meet in Psalm 22, we experience lament, trust and thanksgiving-all at the same time.

          This past Wednesday, some of our deacons met with school children from the community.  As the result of money given by the congregation those children were fitted with new pairs of shoes.

          Over the coming days, the children we helped no doubt will send us notes and cards expressing their thanks. A parent of one of those children could not wait that long to express her gratitude. 

          Not long after I arrived at my office Thursday morning, she called me.  “I want to testify”, she said.  “You don’t know how much the shoes meant to us.  Just a few days earlier, we had prayed for a pair of shoes.  I was laid off last year on December 27.  But every need of mine is being met.  I give God glory for all he has done.  God is good [all the time].”    

          She’s right about that.  In the midst of her blended prayers of lament, thanksgiving and trust, God is still God.  In the midst of life’s chaotic moments, with thanksgiving recall the ways God has demonstrated love for God’s people.  Trustingly remember, as did that worshipper of an ancient day and that worshipper of this past Thursday, that God is good [all the time]. 

          Invariably, we will experience lament in our lives.  Undoubtedly, we will at some point echo, in one form or another, the words of C.S. Lewis who wrote while wrestling with dark grief after the death of his wife: “Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery’s shadow or reflection: the fact that you don’t merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer.  I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.” 

          Pray honestly; bring your anger, fears and grief to God. And, pray prayers of praise and prayers of trust.  Make the prayers of the Psalter your prayers.    

          In a scene from Shadowlands, a film based on the life of C.S. Lewis, Lewis has returned to Oxford from London, where he has just become married to Joy, an American woman.  The marriage ceremony was performed at her hospital bedside.  The cancer that invaded her body is now in an advanced stage.   Through the struggle with her illness, she and Lewis have discovered the depth of their love for each other.

          As Lewis arrives at the college where he teaches, he is met by Harry Harrington, an Episcopal priest, who asks what news there is. Lewis hesitates; then, deciding to speak of the marriage and not the cancer, he says, "Ah, good news, I think, Harry. Yes, good news.”

         Harrington, not aware of the marriage and thinking that Lewis is referring to Joy's medical situation, replies, "I know how hard you've been praying .... Now, God is answering your prayer.

          "That's not why I pray, Harry," Lewis responds. "I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking and sleeping. Prayer doesn't change God; it changes me." (A Grief Observed, C.S. Lewis)

          That is also why the Psalmist prays and why we should pray-not to change God but to change ourselves, to experience intimately the care and the love of God, who surely hears and receives all that we bring to him in our prayers- lament, thanksgiving, and trust. 

 

Prayer:

“I will sing of your steadfast love, O Lord, forever; with my mouth I will proclaim your faithfulness to all generations.  I declare that your steadfast love is established forever; your faithfulness is as firm as the heavens.”