Dr. Dale Miller, August 27, 2006

Trace of a Rainbow

Matthew 6:5-15

I enjoy a good rainstorm. There is something calming and refreshing sitting outside underneath a tent canopy with a cup of coffee in my hand listening to the rainfall around me. Hearing the drops of rain land on the top of the canopy or on the ground is like feeling the beat of my pulse, knowing that each beat affirms that life is constant and filled with energy.

When I was a youngster rain also meant that a rainbow would follow the rain. I would search the skies until I could see the multi-colored arc appear. The rainbow always fascinated me. When I grew older I learned of the fabled pot-of-gold that is suppose to be at the end of the rainbow. That struck a chord with me because I had always imagined that I was at one end of the rainbow and something or someone was at the other end waiting for me to cross over to them. It was something mysterious to me, but I always figured that I was connected somehow to whatever or whoever was at the other end of the rainbow.

It seems silly, as I look back at it, but then I realize that I still look for rainbows and still feel the connectedness. Decades ago I felt that whatever I was doing was filled with mystery but meaningless. Today I feel that these feelings of connectedness are filled with mystery and meaning. For me, my fantasy about rainbows incorporates my understanding about prayer. There is a connectedness. The someone who is waiting for who I am and what I have to say is God.

Before I start getting too artistic in thought about prayer, let me be quick to add that I find prayer challenging. Personally, I find it challenging to meditate and pray. Each morning when I arrive at the church, the office staff knows that I will spend my first fifteen or twenty minutes of the day in this sanctuary. This time of prayer is the most challenging thing I do every day.

Traditional concepts of prayer are often not very helpful for me, if we include sitting quietly and meditatively, expressing one's thoughts and feelings and concerns; being in the correct posture, sitting with head bowed and eyes closed, or kneeling with head bowed and hands folded; having the "right" kind of feelings, being very spiritual, righteous, good, or holy. These traditional views of prayer make praying difficult for me.

Some people may be surprised at these words. After all, preachers know exactly how to pray and yearn to be seen as praying persons. I humbly confess to you that prayer, prayer that exposes the reality of all that we are and all that God is, is far more challenging and difficult then I want to publicly admit.

What do we say to God? The Israelites would not even name God's name. They devised the initials of Y-H-W-H to be used so they wouldn't risk abusing the name of God. How dare we say something to this Almighty and Holy God? Too often we have made God over into some kind of buddy-buddy that we can put in our pocket and bring out when we need a divine friend. I believe in intimacy with God, but how can I pray to a Holy God without cheapening the Almighty Creator?

A mother listening to the bedtime prayers of her sleepy, little daughter was astonished and amazed to hear the following words: "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, And when he hollers let him go, Eenie, meenie, miny, mo."

It is challenging to know what to say in prayers. It is also difficult to know how to listen in prayer. How do we listen to God, who responds with a "still, small voice?" What is a "still, small voice," anyhow? Have we heard one lately? Have we heard one from God lately?

How do we know, in praying, whether the response to our prayers is simply our own prejudices or biases or personal desires coming back at us, instead of the voice of God? I am not sure of the answers to these questions. That is why prayer is very challenging for me.

But just because it is challenging does not mean you and I do not need prayer as part of our lives, or that we do not keep on trying to pray. Prayer may be mysterious, but it is not meaningless. There is a trace of the rainbow. There is a connectedness. We do not give up on trying to pray or trying to find meaning in prayer just because it is difficult, any more than we stop trying to love our neighbor because it a hard thing to do.

"And when you pray...," Jesus said. Jesus was assuming that prayer was a part of life for every disciple. He did not say, "And IF you pray..."; he said, "And WHEN you pray..." Why did Jesus want us to have prayer as a part of life?

We need a time apart, a break, a change of pace, a quiet time, a time to think and reason and grow calm. There is a book written years ago by Robert Raines entitled "Creative Brooding" where he says one of the real problems in our society today is that there is nowhere to go to "brood or think creatively." Well, things haven't changed much in that arena. Everywhere we go there is noise; go to the supermarket, ride the elevator, sit in the dentist's chair, eat in a restaurant, walk the streets - music, noise, sound, no silence. We need some brooding, reflecting, praying time.

Charles Wesley once said in a prayer, "All thy life, Christ, was prayer and love." And I guess that was it. All of Jesus' life was prayer and love. It is as if Christ's life revealed what Henri Nouwen describes when he says that one "comes to the shocking...insight that prayer is not a pious decoration of life but the very breath of human existence."

Often, Jesus withdrew for prayer and meditation; prayed all night; went up on the mountain to pray; and prayed before important decisions and trying experiences.

The range of concerns of Jesus' prayers covered all of life: from his words of transforming water into wine at the wedding in Cana to the prayers for his life in Gethsemane. The subjects of his prayers included life, health, work, sickness, pain, sin, decisions, death, and that "all his disciples might be one." There is, therefore, no concern of life outside the realm of prayer for Jesus, or for us!

In The Little Prince, the Fox says, "What is essential is invisible." Prayer is one of those essential invisible dimensions of life that connects us with God. Prayer is the trace of the rainbow.

When we pray we may be reading, reciting, singing the hymns of the church; recalling or expressing the great prayers of the saints of the church; writing out our needs and feelings and concerns and then saying these as our prayers. We may be sitting, standing, kneeling, walking, and talking - as if with a friend or as if with God Almighty; having a time of quietness when silently spirit communes with spirit; following the prescribed prayer form of Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, and Supplication; or sharing a spontaneous response of your own feelings of the moment.

When we pray we may be living life to its fullest. Prayer may be living life for God, for others, for self. For some people, all of life is a prayer. And, I must confess, that is the concept of prayer most helpful to me.

Prayer is not just words or posture or feeling or mood. Prayer is being open to life in the Spirit, living life in the fullness of God's grace, responding to life as Christ calls us, involvement in life as God gives it to us.

Henri Nouwen tells us that: "prayer is a way of life which allows you to find a stillness in the midst of the world where you open your hands to God's promises, and find hope for yourself, your fellowman (sic) and the whole community in which you live. In prayer, you encounter God in the soft breeze, in the distress and joy of your neighbor and in the loneliness of your own heart."

Or as John Shelby Spong writes in Honest Prayer, "Prayer must be an approach to life if it is to be an approach to God."

We can see that praying, at its deepest, is living, and living is praying, as we look again at the life of Christ. We have his entire life as one lived with love and concern, and this is prayer. When Jesus taught he said that we will not be asked how many times we prayed or how long we prayed or how well-worded were our prayers. We will be asked, "When I was hungry, thirsty, naked, sick, lonely, and in prison, did you come to me." This is prayer.

Jesus did not say, "Pray, pray, pray," except as we take prayer to mean "live, live, live," or "care, care, care", or "love, love, love." And this is prayer, living life as God wants us to live.

Prayer that results only in prayer, only in words, is hardly prayer. Prayer that issues in living, loving concern is biblical and real. I once heard a preacher by the name of Barry Johnson say that, "Ninety percent of effective prayer is when we get off our duff and do something about it." There is strong merit to his observation.

Prayer may be mysterious, but it is not meaningless. There is a trace of a rainbow that connects life with the divine and the divine with our life. Let me share with you four things that have happened to me in prayer.

• When we pray, God offers forgiveness. Jesus said at various times, "Your faith has saved you, go in peace." "Your faith has made you whole, rise, take up your bed and walk." "Your faith has saved you, go and sin no more." Prayer offers us a word of forgiveness from God. I need that.

• When we pray, God stirs us up inside. Look at Scripture. Saul: "What do you want, Lord?" Isaiah: "Here am I Lord, send me." Paul: "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation." Prayer offers us new motivation, stirs us up, and gives us inner strength from God. I need that.

• And when we pray, God gives direction to life. Jesus said just before his crucifixion, "I am the way, the truth, and the life." Prayer offers a sense of purpose, a clarity about life, and a new and authentic way. I need that.

• And when we pray, God speaks a word of ultimate assurance. "Lo, I will be with you always." God is still in control. God is still the Ruler. A word of ultimate hope and assurance comes from God. I need that.

William Law, in his book Christian Perfection, wrote, "One who has learned how to pray has learned the greatest secret of a holy and a happy life." I have not learned fully how to pray. I am still learning.

A grandfather passed his grandson's room one night overheard him repeating the alphabet. He asked him, "What are you up to?" He explained, "I'm saying my prayers, but I can't think of exactly the right words tonight, so I'm just saying all the letters of the alphabet. God will put them together for me, because God knows what I'm thinking."

I listen to the rain and feel the heartbeat of God. I still look for the trace of the rainbow and feel the connectedness with God. It is challenging, but it is also a thrill to experience the meaning of a divine mystery. Amen.