Prayers I hope never to hear again

You’re sitting in church, working hard to worship. You’ve had a hectic week and this Sunday morning has had its share of stresses. But finally, you’re here, in place, in the Lord’s house, sitting in your favorite pew. You’ve joined the congregation in singing the first hymn of the day. The minister has started the service right with a wonderful call to worship. And then it happens.

The person leading the opening prayer strays across an invisible border and says something that offends you or frightens you or angers you or troubles you or at the very least disturbs you.

That’s what this is about.

Just so you will know, I’m called of the Lord as a pastor. We pastors have the same reaction you do when the person praying–whether a layman or a trained minister who should know better–says something very wrong or quite stupid or somewhat offensive. We wonder what that was all about, where he learned that doctrine, or where he picked that weird phrase up and decided to incorporate it into his public prayers.

Everyone has his/her list of prayers that cross that deadline. Here are ten prayers I hope never to hear again.

10. “And Lord, we want to tell you…and Lord, this, and Lord that.”

My friend Kay Swanson hears people pray, “Father God, Lord, I pray….and Father God, that you would…Lord God, Father God, be merciful to us….” Kay says, “Please! When you’re speaking to me, you don’t invoke my name between every couple of words. Why do you do this to God?”

Using the Lord’s name as punctuation is a no-no.

9. Silliness in prayer.

John Favara has a friend whose pastor once prayed, “And Lord, one day when we are in Heaven, laying around, sipping on a pina colada….”

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Things I know about your worship

You worship that which you do not know. But we worship that which we know…. (John 4:22)

It’s not easy making generalizations about the worship activities of every person on the planet, other than this one: something within the heart and soul of each human cries out–reaches out, strains, hungers–toward its Creator. The forms which that heart-cry take are as varied as the races and cultures of men. Some bow before the waterway flowing through their village, some sacrifice to the volcano looming above their community, and some build massive cathedrals which they decorate with ornate images, each one an expression of their worship. Others enter their church, their synagogue, their meeting place, and sing hymns, offer prayers, read from their holy book, and give offerings.

For those who worship the God and Father of the Lord Jesus Christ–that would be those of us who call ourselves Christians–making some generalizations is easier. We share many things in common, not all of them desirable.

I know five things about your worship, Christian. You make safely conclude these are likewise true about my worship.

1. You don’t do it very well.

Even at our best, none of us worship well. We have glimpses of God, foretastes of Heaven, in the best of our worship times. But mostly, we are straining to think of that “land that is fairer than day” and to “set our affections on things above.” We do not worship easily, naturally, or well.

This is no surprise to the Father and it shouldn’t be to us either, particularly for those who know the Bible.

–We see through a glass darkly (I Corinthians 13:12). Our understanding is so limited, our vision so impaired, the wonder is that we worship God at all. And we wouldn’t, of course, had it not been for the revelation given in Jesus.

–We know in part (I Corinthians 13:12b). Our knowledge of God and correct doctrine in spiritual things is limited. People are always asking why Christians cannot get together on our doctrine and do away with denominations and religious bickering. Answer: Because what we know of God is incomplete. True, we have His Word. But our understanding of the Bible is inadequate and clearly, even if we knew it all, there is still so much to God not contained within its leaves.

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How destiny hangs by a thin thread; life can change forever in one tiny act

At the age of 86 (and counting; still doing good! walked my mile early this morning), I’m reflecting on how life works. From time to time I’ll be posting these little memoir-essays on my FB page.  The plan right now is not to leave them up very long before posting a more typical piece.  The point is to keep the essay.)

I was thinking how little things matter.

ONE DAY IN 1945, my mama made me a cartoonist by one small act.

Mom had three children in school and three at home. When I was 5, Carolyn was 3, and Charlie was 1.  Mom was always working hard and furiously–cleaning, cooking, washing clothes, everything.  And I recall the day she put Carolyn and me at the kitchen table, gave us a tablet and a pencil each, and said, “Now, sit there and draw!”

I learned that day that I loved to draw. And never stopped.

People ask if mom knew what she was doing.  My answer is: All she was doing was getting us out of her way, trying to find a little peace and quiet.

The Lord took it from there.  Next year when I went to first grade, the other children would gather and watch me draw.  Could I draw well, people ask?  Of course not. I was six years old.  But the point is I could draw better than the rest of them.

For reasons unknown, the single most asked question when I’m sketching large numbers of people is this: “How long have you been drawing?” When I say, “81 years,” they are stunned into silence. So, then I explain what Mom did.

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Lord, my sin is such a little thing, right?

A pastor in Haiti tells about a fellow he knew who wanted to sell his house for $2,000. And, in time, he found a buyer.  When the fellow could scrape together only half the asking price, the owner came up with an interesting solution.

He would agree to sell for that amount but with one reservation: he would continue to own one nail above the front door.

Just a little thing, right?

A couple of years later, the first fellow decided he wanted to repurchase the house. The new owner declined, saying, “I like this house; I don’t want to sell.”

The previous owner found the carcass of a dead dog on the street and hung it from the nail he still owned above the front door. Soon the stench became so strong no one could go in or out of the house, and the family had to leave. They sold the house to the former owner.

The Haitian pastor said, “If we leave the devil with even one small peg in our life, he will return to hang his rotting garbage on it, making our lives unfit for Christ’s habitation.”

—I sure am enjoying my new life in Christ. Bible study is great, my new friends at church are wonderful, and I’m loving the new relationships. I wish I’d done this years ago. Some nights I’m down at the church til 10 o’clock with my friends there. Sometimes we are praying, studying the Bible, or working on various projects. I hope no one finds out what I’m watching on the internet at home. I know it’s called pornography, but it’s such a little thing and as long as no one knows, what can be wrong with it?

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