When we are lulled to sleep by the evil of the present moment, we must lift our eyes to the horizon to remember what is Good, and where we are heading. It is so easy to believe that what we are perceiving now in the fog is all that is true, and that this world is irredeemable. Scripture invites us to lift our heads above the fog to gain perspective - looking back to remember what God considers good, and looking forward to see our destination, so that we might be ready to advocate for good against evil in our present moment.
We participate in lifting up the world to God in our hearts through our intercessory prayers, saying “Your will be done”. Some of us think we’re bothering a still-faced God when we pray; but to intercede is to carefully consider what we know God’s will to be and to come into agreement with it - we look at the world through the lens of Christ. Sometimes the anxiety we feel about the world around us is the groaning of the Spirit within, and an invitation to intercede. Intercession, when rightly held, spurs us to right action - we are formed by the “amen” to God’s will and set out to become God’s hands and feet.
Our faith is not merely an exchange of ideas, but of tangible actions through which we connect God to the world. The laying of hands in prayer is symbolic, but it means more than that. In a world marred by no touch or bad touch, healing touch repairs and restores. We become more vulnerable, more open when we are connected tangibly. When lay hands on one another, we become the hands of Jesus to bless, heal, deliver, and empower.
Confession opens us up to the continual forgiveness of God so we might choose back into love. We are not what we do. However, what we do speaks of who we think we are. And who we really are is determined by Who gave us the gift of life. Sin is not what separates us from God; it is what draws God close to us so we might be reconciled. It was the human God’s merciful solidarity that healed shame and guilt, climaxing in the cross: “Father forgive them for they know not what they do”.
The Psalms are our prayers because they are, first and foremost, the prayers of the Beloved Son, who embodies our exile before the Father. Jesus was a part of the exiled Jewish community living under Roman occupation; The Psalms were His prayer book. They were the communal prayers that taught Him how to speak to His Father praise and sorrow, without any masks. If the psalms are the prayers of Jesus bringing His whole self before our Father, then they — in all their grief, joy, and violent rage — must be the prayers that lead us to Him as well.
A single word uttered from an open heart can do more for us than any amount of anxious babbling. There’s a lot of mental and emotional debris floating around us and within us that needs to be removed so we can see God clearly. Jesus reminds us that humility is our first posture in prayer, remembering that God is God and we are not.
One of the most ancient prayers we can pray is this: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me (a sinner).” A simple prayer like this is meant for repetition so that it becomes like breathing, sinking down from lips to heart - your spirit prays even when your lips aren’t.
A rich prayer life connects us to God from the inside-out, and from the outside-in. It’s valuable to have prayers that arise from our thoughts and feelings spontaneously, but often we might find ourselves stuck in where to go beyond that. Spontaneity does not equal authenticity, and it doesn’t lead us to maturity in the faith. We need guidance to learn God’s character and will. Liturgical prayers helps lead us places we might not go in our wandering.
Everything about our faith flows first from sharing in divine love with Jesus through prayer. Often the story of Mary and Martha is reduced to “don’t do stuff, just sit,” but there is something deeper at work. Jesus is not critical of Martha’s activity itself, but her motive. She is anxious because she finds her value in her good behavior and she is projecting her frustration upon her sister. Action and contemplation actually go hand-in-hand - to “pray without ceasing” is to merge our communion with God and our daily activity. Without contemplation, our activity burns us out and we become filled with contempt.
We need a “rule of life" to steward vision from God so we don’t get distracted. It is a fact of life that maturity, in any form, does not happen to us spontaneously. The life of the Spirit we are called to live into sees both our passions (what makes our hearts come alive) and our discipline (what we commit to regardless of how we feel) as gifts meant for our liberation.
It is not enough to merely sing songs and celebrate our holy days. These things should prepare us to partner with God in the healing of the world. It’s easy to critique “the Western Church” for hypocrisy - but what about us? Real worship reminds us of God’s character and will; conforms our will to God’s; and then prompts us to do the work we have been given to do in our day. We address the pain of the world from the perspective of God, not modern ideologies.