Eighth Pentecost
Proper 12 Year A
July 26, 2020
Romans 8: 26-27
May the words of my mouth and the sighs of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my strength and my Redeemer. Amen.
Every time I begin a sermon – the process for which begins on Monday morning when I read the next Sunday’s scripture lessons and continues all the way up to the time I step into this pulpit on Sunday morning - I pray. And praying, of course, for an ordained priest is to be expected. In fact just before my ordination to the priesthood, Bishop Beckwith told me that prayer was the most important part of my job – and that, as a priest, he said, I would be a “professional pray-er.”
Well, there are professional athletes. Professional politicians. Professional lawyers, bankers, engineers, professional musicians, dancers, teachers, and lobbyists. But being a professional pray-er seems a bit odd – don’t you think? I mean, when I think of prayer that way, I think more of a nun or a monk. Definitely not someone like me.
So I went looking for some examples. What I found surprised me. First, I looked up Frederick Beuchner. I love his writing. But he described prayer as that “odd silence you fall into when something very beautiful is happening, or something very good or very bad is happening.” Strange to think of prayer as an “Odd Silence.” He described prayer as “The ah-h-h-h!” that sometimes floats up from the crowd on during the 4th of July fireworks. He describes prayer as “a stammer of pain at somebody else's pain. The stammer of joy at somebody else's joy. Or whatever words or sounds you use for sighing over your own life.” Odd silence, Stammering and sighing doesn’t sound very professional to me.
Next, I looked up Barbara Brown Taylor. She’s one of the “greats” in my book. Expressive. Thoughtful. Relatable. Prayerful. Or so I thought. But in her book “An Altar in the World,” she admits to being a “failure” at prayer. She writes: “I would rather show someone my checkbook stubs than talk about my prayer life. I would rather confess that I am a rotten god[parent], that I struggle with my weight, that I am overly fond of Bombay Sapphire gin martinis than confess that I am a prayer-weakling!”
A prayer-weakling. Again, not very professional. And yet Taylor goes on to write, more seriously, “To say I love God but I do not pray much is like saying I love life but I do not breathe much.” And so she approaches prayer from two possibilities. The first being that prayer is so much more than what our minds can grasp, and secondly, that sometimes, even those things we do in our lives – whether it’s walking, cleaning, serving others, or simply being quiet – is genuinely prayer.
So I suppose, if you put it that way, then perhaps there’s hope for me yet. And for you too. That is, to be professional pray-ers.
Now, all of this is not unfounded, because it comes to us from today’s lesson from Paul’s letter to the Romans. In verse 26, Paul writes: “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.” Paul intuits here that most of his readers, including us, don’t actually know how to pray! And yet, God through the Holy Spirit doesn’t judge us, shame us, mock us, or abandon us because of our inadequacy. But rather intercedes for us and with us with sighs too deep for words. “God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for us according to the will of God.”
Pause for a moment and just take that in! What Paul is saying here is that prayer isn’t just about our effort or lack thereof, about how well or poorly we converse with God, how often we engage with God, what words we use, or how “professional” we pray. After all, if the Spirit can pray in sighs too deep words, surely we can too!
Now, I may not think of myself as a professional pray-er, but I am an excellent sigh-er. My husband, Bunker, knows this. Because sometimes, I just can’t articulate the words. I sigh when I am frustrated. I sigh when I am angry. I sigh when I am sick. I sigh when I look at the world’s trouble. I sigh when I am worried about someone. And if Bunker, who has been by my side for 35 years, can interpret the meaning behind my sighs, surely so does the God who created me long before that, and sustains my life to this day
I think the point that Paul is trying to make in his letter to the Romans is best summed up by the monk Thomas Merton. When he was asked how a person prays, he answered with just one word. He said, “Pray.” As in, just do it! As in, stop being distracted by your shame or your anxiety or your wondering if its working, and just do it. Pray!
Prayer is where you and I enter into communion with the holy. And yes, sometimes words fall short, or are the tool WE NEED to figure out what we need or feel in a particular moment. But it’s more about connecting with the Divine. Whether it’s an odd silence. A stammer. A Sigh. A groan. Or an act of goodness in the world. We have prayed. Professionally.
So join me, in just a few minutes, as we continue our prayers together. Go ahead and sigh as we name all those who are in need and have commended themselves to our prayers. Then in the week ahead, please just simply sigh with me. God’s Spirit knows our needs before we ask, before we sigh, and connects with those breaths in and out. Sigh.
Amen.
