Monday Memo

by Steve May

When the disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray, he didn’t teach them about prayer, he taught them a prayer. It can be found in Luke 11 and in Matthew 6.

Books have been written about this simple prayer. I attended a 3 day seminar devoted to it, and sat through an 8 week sermon series based on it. Entire seminary courses have been taught on these words; they have much to teach about the principles of prayer. But let’s remember: first and foremost this is a prayer—a prayer that Jesus taught us to pray.

As a teenager, I was told those who pray the Lord’s Prayer are guilty of “vain repetition.” (This by a pastor who prayed the same prayers over the offering and before the invitation 52 weeks year.) As an adult, I’ve learned that the greatest impediment to my spiritual life is not vain repetition, it is stubborn resistance. Too often, I don’t pray nearly enough.

In my quest to learn to pray, two things have become clear.

First, prayer is a profoundly complex mystery that we tend to over-simplify.
Second, prayer is a profoundly simple process that we tend to over-complicate.

Jesus didn’t teach his disciples about prayer, he taught them to pray. This is because you learn to pray by praying. It’s the same process for a child or a college professor; for a peasant or a president; for a new believer or a spiritual giant. You talk to God.

It’s something anyone can do. You begin by saying the words Jesus taught us to say, and you continue by sharing your heart with God throughout the day.

The more I pray, the less extravagant my sermons on prayer become. This is one subject we don’t need to approach academically. We need to make sure that we understand—and we teach to others—what Jesus taught us about prayer: you learn to pray by praying.

When you pray, say:
Father, hallowed be your name,
your kingdom come.
Give us each day our daily bread.
Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us.
And lead us not into temptation.
(Luke 11:2-4)

Jazz saxophonist Charlie Parker once said, “If you don’t live it, it won’t come out of your horn.” He’s talking about depth and authenticity in music. It goes beyond getting the notes right; it’s music that touches one’s soul. That’s why listening to Parker is a different experience than listening to, say, Yanni or Kenny G.

The same could be said for our preaching. If you don’t live it, it won’t ring true in your sermon.

This doesn’t mean that you must master prayer before you can preach on prayer. You don’t have to attain sinless perfection before you can preach on holiness. But it does mean that you need to know something of the struggles related to both before you can develop messages that genuinely help your listeners in their struggles. As Paul said, “I may not be a trained speaker, but I do know what I’m talking about.” (1 Corinthians 11:6)

Too often our sermons are filled with easy promises: Jesus gives you joy, the Holy Spirit comforts you, God answers prayer. These are things we know are true, and it is also true that sometimes joy and comfort and answered prayer elude us. It is also true that the Christian life contains some dark nights. This difficult (though temporary) reality must be reflected in our teaching.

For preaching to be powerful, it must be personal. It must reflect your experience — your victories as well as your struggles.

Charlie Parker talked about authenticity in music. It’s authenticity that is most needed in the sermons we preach. This is what touches the hearts of people.

In the movie Ground Hog Day, Bill Murray plays a self-absorbed, cynical weatherman who gets stuck with going to Puxatawnie Pennsylvania on February 2 for the big Ground Hog Day celebration, a task he dreads. Worst of all, he wakes up the next day only to find that it’s not the next day — it’s February 2 again. He has to relive the day again and again and again.

Eventually he gets the day perfect:  he saves a homeless man from freezing, he saves another man from choking in a restaurant, he catches a little boy who falls out of a tree, he changes a flat for some elderly women, and so on. In other words, he spends the day serving people.

Today is Ground Hog Day, and I’m guessing that all of us will only get one shot at it — just like we get just one shot at every other day. We have one chance to get today right; let’s make the most of this opportunity. Let’s spend the day serving others.

As the writer of Hebrews said, “Encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today, so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness.” (Hebrews 3:13)