Friday, June 18, 2021

PRAYER

Matthew 26: 36 - Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.”

We see from this abrupt change of location that the conflict between Jesus and Peter regarding what Peter will or will not do is unresolved. However, Jesus now has an inkling, and maybe more than an inkling, that his disciples are unaware of the true nature of his situation. As such, they will be less supportive and that shows itself in this next pericope. (A pericope is a section of text with some sort of cohesion.) Fortunately, Jesus has more than just his disciples for support.

God.

The way to God is prayer. It is said there are no atheists in foxholes (or trenches). Insulting as that phrase is to atheists, it means that in times of extreme stress, everybody looks for help; everybody prays. What presumably they are asking for is help, get me out of this, or don’t let me die. Jesus will do this too, he will ask God to “remove the cup” from him, because he is human being and doesn’t want to feel the pain and humiliation of crucifixion. Who would? Yet, prayer for those who are not atheists is more than an occasional asking for help. It’s an essential part of spiritual practice. I would go so far to say it becomes part of our identity.

Kathleen Norris, in her excellent book, Amazing Grace, tells a story about how this spiritual practice can transform us and become part of our identity. A bus driver whose bus was taken hostage responded calmly and, in the process, saved herself and all the children on the bus. Afterward, “when asked by reporters how she had managed to talk the man out of using the gun he was waving in the air, she said, ‘I pray a lot.’” Not prayed, but she habitually prays and that gave her the strength and calmness to deal with the situation.

Daily prayer can also give us strength to go on when we think we cannot. When I was first showing symptoms of lupus, my leg swelled up so I couldn’t bend it. Every morning, I woke up and just said, “God I need your help to get through this day. I can’t do it on my own.” And God would somehow give me enough strength to get through the day. I can’t explain it; I only know it’s true for me.

Prayer gives us strength, and it steadies our minds and hearts if we let it. If we pray daily for such steadying, we, or at least I, come to find that our outlook is not fear-based. With the ongoing insurrection, that is so important right now. Acting or speaking from fear only increases our fear. If we are able to give our fear to God, a tall order(!), we can act through love instead. Prayer is a spiritual practice that is easy to talk about, but hard to do.

Finally, prayer is a way to help us let go of what we cannot change. There is so much in the world that we cannot control and that still affects our daily lives. Focusing or obsessing on these things only keeps us fearful and gets in the way of what we are trying to do each day. Working on letting go of what we cannot change gives us time and energy to do something positive or enjoyable. Prayer is a way of helping to focus our minds on what we can do, on what God is calling us to do.

Jesus will do all these things in this story. He is continuing his habitual practice of prayer, he will soon be asking for strength of body and steadiness of mind, he’ll soon be asking God to spare him and, if not, to be with him in the trial he is about to face, and finally he will let go of what he cannot change by saying God’s will be done. It is from his experience of daily prayer and meditation that he knows that God is trustworthy and will get him through.

And that is a practice we can emulate. Paul tells us to “pray without ceasing.” In other words, it should be part of who we are. We are those who pray. “Even if our prayer is only “help,” or “thanks,” or “wow!” as Anne Lamott would say, we are given grace in that moment.

B

Friday, June 4, 2021

IDENTITY

Matthew 26:35 - Peter said to him, “Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you.” And so said all the disciples.

I’m trying to decide whether it’s a good thing Jesus doesn’t comment again. On the one hand, saying nothing is a bold move. Peter will find out how wrong he is the hard way, and, in the meantime, there is work to do before Jesus is taken. Time is certainly running out and this argument has become fruitless due to Peter’s impulsive intractability.

The time for teaching must be over, because, in my opinion, Jesus missed a perfect opportunity to say something like, “Get you behind me, Satan” as he did before. I say this because, Peter at this moment, is a stumbling block for Jesus. He’s refusing to accept Jesus’s assessment of him and the other disciples. He’s not only denying Jesus’s words, he’s denying the reality of who he, Simon Peter, is.

Thomas Merton, in New Seeds of Contemplation, has something to say about this, although indirectly:

… we are even called to share with God the work of creating the truth of our identity. We can evade this responsibility by playing with masks, and this pleases us because it can appear at times to be a free and creative way of living. It is quite easy, it seems, to please everyone. But in the long run the cost and the sorrow come very high. To work out our own identity in God, which the Bible calls “working out our salvation,” is a labor that requires sacrifice and anguish, risk and many tears. It demands close attention to reality at every moment, and great fidelity to God as [they] reveal [themselves], obscurely in the mystery of each new situation.

Lying to ourselves and others about who we are is evading responsibility. We cannot sustain the masks, though; at least not without becoming that masked person and losing our own self. That is the cost and the sorrow; losing our sense of self. Because while we may become the mask, what we are deep down, is still there, crying out to be heard. We can never find happiness or joy in denying our own self.

Yet, Merton says the other alternative also requires risk, anguish, sacrifice, and tears. The difference, of course, is that this way, the way of working with God creating the truth of our identity, holds the possibility of happiness and joy. Serenity and peace come when we know who we are. Only then, can we see our faults and frailties as beautiful, as part of being human. It seems counterintuitive. But one only has to look at the previous president to see the end result of playing with masks and denying our identity.

If, Merton is right, and I think he is, then denying who we are is working against God, and Peter is actively working against Jesus. That’s what happens when we stay in denial, right? I’m expanding this to think about denial not just about who we are but also about other things as well. Again, all we need to do is look at those Republicans who support the previous president to see where the road ends. We end up working against not only our own interests but also against others’ interests.

Such denial comes from fear; of rejection, of acceptance, of pain, of punishment, of loss, of responsibility, of blame. That list goes on and on. We all know that fear. That is the fear that hides God’s love from us. It’s there, but we cannot see it. It’s there for us just as it was there for Peter. Jesus’s warning in these past few verses came from his deep love of them. He wanted them to be prepared for their future. Peter’s denial, his rejection of that preparation, was a denial of God’s love.

B