Relationship Through Prayer - Redeemer Episcopal Church

Trinity icon by Andrei Rublev
There is a place at the table for you.

Luke 11:1-13

He was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” ²He said to them, “When you pray, say: Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. ³Give us each day our daily bread. ⁴And forgive us our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us. And do not bring us to the time of trial.” 

⁵And he said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; ⁶for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.’ ⁷And he answers from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.’ 

⁸I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence (shamelessness) he will get up and give him whatever he needs. 

⁹“So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. ¹⁰For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. 

¹¹Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? ¹²Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? ¹³If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

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If you would like to listen to this sermon (with infusions from the Spirit), you can find it at the link here. This sermon was originally preached by me, Rev. Sarah Locke, on July 28, 2019 at Redeemer Episcopal Church. 

Grace and peace to you from God, our Father, who is so radical to invite us into relationship through prayer and allows us to be present in all of our human messiness. Amen. 

On Thursday evening this past week, I hosted a young adult gathering centered around the weird faith questions you sometimes feel too ashamed or silly to ask your priest.

In preparation for that gathering, I opened up my social media about a month ago to friends and my college students to ask me any religious or faith questions they’ve been wondering. It was anonymous and I was amazed by how many questions people had that they’ve never felt comfortable asking before!

I answered the questions as openly and honestly as I could and explained a little bit about why people might ask questions like that. Conversations like these are some of my favorites. It’s what we do with our college students in campus ministry every week— we ask big questions and we help one another sort them out. It is some of my favorite ministry.

After a few days, another question came in.  

“I don’t understand prayer,” it said, “I pray, but I feel like God already has a plan or answer so what’s the point? How am I supposed to pray?” 

And I let that question sit in my inbox for two days before I finally replied and said, “I promise to answer this question. But… I just don’t have a good answer. I don’t know.” 

And then I let that question sit there for a month. And I never replied to my friend. But I’ve been thinking about that question for an entire month until I opened up the gospel reading for this Sunday and I sighed with frustration, thinking, “Well great, now I’m going to have to try to answer this question.”

So that’s what I’ll do this morning with you all. I’ll attempt to answer this question about prayer that has been asked since the beginning of time, and a couple of other burning questions about prayer, like the ones the disciples had for Jesus in the gospel text this morning: How do we pray? Why do we pray? What’s the point? 

Do you ever think that the disciples got tired of Jesus never giving them a straight answer for anything? They ask him seemingly important and direct questions and he says, “let me tell you a story…” I imagine the disciples turning to one another after most of Jesus’ stories and going, “did you understand any of that? No? Okay great, me either.” 

Jesus does answer the disciples at the very beginning of this passage though. They say, “teach us to pray” and he recites a prayer for them to use each time they talk to God. And it’s the same prayer, more or less, that the church has been using for thousands of years. 

So, good for Jesus for finally giving them a straight answer. But then, because of course he can’t just stop with a simple answer, Jesus goes on to tell this story of a man and his sleeping neighbor. And the reason Jesus tells this story is that when the disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray, they weren’t really asking for a prayer they could recite. What they wanted to know was about their relationship with God. 

Before then, if a person had the good fortune to encounter God, they were known to drop dead immediately. But somehow Jesus had this sort of normal, casual relationship with God and the disciples were curious about it. And as Jesus tells this story, he invites the disciples into an intimate relationship with their creator— that must have sounded blasphemous at best and downright ridiculous at worst.  

In this text, Jesus tells the story of a visitor has just arrived at a man’s house and he has nothing to feed him. So this man walks over to his neighbor’s house in the middle of the night, wake him up, and asks him for some bread. The text we read says that because of his persistence, the man gets up and gives him whatever he needs. But a better translation would be shamelessness. Because this man is so shameless in coming to ask for bread in the middle of the night, the neighbor gets up and gives him whatever he needs. 

And it *is* shameless isn’t it? Imagine the kind of relationship you must have with your neighbor to go pounding on their door in the middle of the night? I know people who have been living in the same house their entire lives and they don’t have that kind of relationship with their neighbors. It’s shameless and vulnerable to go to a person in the middle of the night and ask for bread. 

You see, I don’t think Jesus is teaching his disciples about what kind of prayers to pray, or even the frequency or urgency with which to pray. Jesus is telling a story about the kind of relationship we are invited into by the Holy Spirit. Unlike ever before, the disciples were invited to be vulnerable and shameless before God. 

When the disciples say, “Lord, teach us to pray,” what they are really saying it, “tell us about our relationship with God.” And Jesus gives them the most well-known prayer in all of Christianity, a prayer that begins with “Father.” Not “Lord,” or “Almighty” or any other number of names for the our most holy and ever gracious God, but Jesus invites his disciples and invites us to call God “Father,” “Abba,” “Dad.”  

We are called into a relationship with God that is more than an almighty ruler and servants. Even more than creator and created. We are invited into a relationship so intimate that Jesus says we can ask anything of God. And God says that this relationship is so good and wonderful that God will not only gives us everything we need in this life, our daily bread, but God will also give to us the Holy Spirit. 

You see, prayer is not about how, or why, or when we pray. The invitation to prayer is an invitation into a relationship with the Trinity, an invitation into a relationship with God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

It is the same invitation that allows us to come to this table and eat the body and blood of Christ Jesus. It is the same invitation that dips us into the waters of baptism and renews our spirit. And God in Christ has already accepted this invitation for us, we don’t even *have* to respond. 

But we get to. We have the incredible privilege of reaching out to our creator, the one who was, and is, and will be forever more, the one who created the interstellar workings of the entire universe. And more than that, God listens. God wants to be in relationship with us and even more, the only reason we are able to reach out to God and be in this relationship is because God first began this relationship with us. In the very beginning. And continued that relationship despite our nonsense, when God sent God’s very self in Christ Jesus to be with us, journey with us, die on the cross, and be raised again for the forgiveness of our sins. That God— our God— as ridiculous as it sounds, wants us to be in relationship, to talk, and listen, and converse with us. That’s wild and full of grace and mercy and it truly doesn’t make much sense, but it is true. 

God created you and adores you and wants to be in relationship with you. 

So I’m sure I didn’t answer the question of prayer any better or more clearly than Jesus did, but I hope that you hear prayer as an invitation into a vulnerable, shameless, and holy relationship with our God, who created the entire expanse of the universe and cares enough about you to call you beloved and be present with you in all things through the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Balance - Redeemer Episcopal Church

This sermon was originally preached at Redeemer Episcopal Church on July 21, 2019. To listen to the sermon (with infusions from the Spirit), click this link.

Photo by Leio McLaren (@leiomclaren)  
on Unsplash

Luke 10:38-42

³⁸Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. ³⁹She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. ⁴⁰But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” ⁴¹But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things;⁴²there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

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Grace and peace from our Lord and Savior Christ Jesus who invites us to sit at his feet to listen and learn so that we might have purpose to our actions. 

I spent this past week with my parents in Ohio. Most of the week was spent preparing for our son’s first birthday party. There was a lot of cooking, cleaning, and hosting happening. Even my aunt came into town, my grandmother came to the house they could have an assembly line of food preparation. 

When my mom asked what I was preaching on this week, I told her it was the story of Mary and Martha, when Martha fusses at Jesus to make Mary help with the cooking and cleaning and hosting. My mom, unsurprisingly, said, “I’m obviously a Martha. And I totally understand why she was upset with Jesus and Mary! Mary should have gotten up and helped! Couldn’t she see her sister was overwhelmed?” 

This is a common reaction to Bible stories like this. We usually identify with one or the other in this story. We either feel more like a Martha or more like a Mary. How many of us did that as I read the gospel text? 

I think there is a misconception about this text that we must choose one or the other. That Mary and Martha are mutually exclusive to one another’s way of living life. I often hear this story told and preached when a priest wants to tell her people to be less busy. I’m not going to do that because, for one— I have no business telling you all to do something that I myself am terrible at doing. My middle name is busy. 

I was recently talking to my therapist and I told her that I felt really great in many aspects of my life, but that my spiritual life seemed lacking. I felt like I was wandering without a clear path forward. I feel like I can’t slow down, that I’m always in high gear, running from one thing to the next. And it is making me lose direction in other parts of my life because I feel ungrounded. It’s a hard sensation to describe. And she doesn’t speak the spiritual language that we speak in church, but she said, “Are you resting? Are you giving your spirit rest?”

And it immediately made me think of this story.

This gospel story falls in the lectionary between the story of the Good Samaritan— which seems all about action— this last Sunday. And Jesus teaching about the Lord’s Prayer, which we will hear about next Sunday. 

As a church, we are called to action like the Good Samaritan. We are called to faithful, difficult work in dismantling systems of oppression and powers that harm the most vulnerable in our society. We must do these things, because faith without works is dead and we are called to bear good fruit in our lives. 

But we are also called to faithfulness, to prayer and centering. If you go full speed in the direction of these works, without being rooted in prayer, without being grounded by listening, then we can run into real trouble. 

I don’t believe we have to choose between being Mary or being Martha.  It’s not about one or the other. It’s about balance. We must sit at Jesus’ feet and listen to his teaching so that we may know the clear path forward. Otherwise, we will just be wandering— without any idea of where we are supposed to be going. 

Radical hospitality is so important, and providing for others, and welcoming strangers. This about how much Jesus says about doing the right thing for our neighbors, providing for the sick, poor, needy, refugees, and most vulnerable. Jesus knows the importance of being a good host to strangers and teaches on it and demonstrates it regularly throughout the gospels. So I don’t think he’s condemning Martha for being a good and faithful host. But he is inviting her into the learning, the listening, the stillness as well. 

We have to learn how to do both, because without both, neither will have direction or meaning. They cannot be contradictory or mutually exclusive. 

In the first reading this morning, we heard about the story of Sarah and Abraham when they were receiving God as a guest in their home. 

Sarah got to work hosting the mysterious visitor when he showed up. But Sarah also listened to him. Even though she didn’t believe him and laughed at his declaration, she stopped to listen because she knew that what God said was important and had the ability to give her and her life direction. 

I invite you to continue the hustle and bustle of your life, but not at the cost of your life at the feet of Christ. When you’re feeling that tug, the pull, like the one I have been feeling lately— that feeling like you’re wandering and directionless. When you look up one day and realize that you haven’t listened to God in a while, I invite you to stop. Really, truly stop. What grace is that. How radical is that, in the face of a society that tells us we can’t and shouldn’t stop— I invite you to stop. Jesus invites you to stop. And sit at the feet of Jesus to listen and learn.

I don’t know what stopping looks like. Maybe it is less busyness. Maybe it is busyness with a purpose. Maybe it is more time in prayer or reading the Bible, but maybe for some us it is action rooted in our faith in Christ. 

I’m not sure what listening and sitting at the feet of Jesus means for each of us, and I haven’t mastered it myself yet. But I think both Mary and Martha have something to teach us in that what looks like laziness or even rest could be listening. And what could look like busyness and bustling around, could actually be listening as well. 

A friend of mine puts it this way: It’s not about how we serve, but remembering who we serve. When we work, we work for God, when we listen, we listen for God.

I’m going to say that again, because I think it is the core of what Jesus is trying to teach us in this story: It’s not about how we serve, but remembering who we serve. When we work, we work for God, when we listen, we listen for God.

Life is a balance of action and prayer, movement and rest. We must be conscious of this balance, we must attend to it. And when we feel restless and drained, bustling around with no purpose, we are able to come back to this place, this congregation, to be nourished by this word and meal, to be reminded of our baptism in these waters, and be renewed with the prayers for one another. 

We do this because God’s grace is the better part that Jesus speaks about, and despite the ways of this world saying otherwise, God’s grace cannot be taken from us. Amen. 

Follow - Trinity Lutheran Church

My latest sermon at Trinity Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, Florida, was a prime example of what happens when I've had a long week, the gospel text feels more convicting to myself than anyone I might be preaching to, and the Holy Spirit catches me between the two worship services.

If I uploaded the sermon audio from both the 9am and 11am worship services, you'd be surprised by how different they sound. They are almost 3 minutes different in time and I'm honestly not even sure what I preached at the second service. But that's the work of the Spirit. Which is also why I don't have a manuscript to share with you from last week, and why I am posting it so late. I wasn't sure if I would share it with the world at all. But, alas, I'm a sucker for consistency and I will try to always upload my sermon and sermon audio for those who want to be a part of this community of faith.

You can find my sermon audio from last week at the link here and you can read the gospel lesson below. Peace to you.

Luke 9:51-62

When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem. And he sent messengers ahead of him. On their way they entered a village of the Samaritans to make ready for him; but they did not receive him, because his face was set toward Jerusalem. When his disciples James and John saw it, they said, “Lord, do you want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them?” But he turned and rebuked them. Then they went on to another village.

As they were going along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” To another he said, “Follow me.” But he said, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” But Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.”Another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus said to him, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”