Musical Prelude and Service.

Luke 11:1-13
So, it was suggested to me that I could structure my sermon around my vacation experiences this past month. I’m not sure about that.
Yes, we visited some remarkable places, and we got to visit Canterbury Cathedral, which was remarkable. No, we didn’t get to Notre Dame. It was tempting, but didn’t quite fit into our schedule.
But I did want to share with you a little bit of our experience visiting the Louvre – and also Versailles.
We had actually been cautioned by friends and family about going to those iconic landmarks, in particular in July. But they are difficult to avoid, especially when you don’t know when or if you will get to return to Paris.
And let’s be clear, both were incredible experiences. Getting to see the Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo, and countless other masterworks is unforgettable. But no matter how much of a warning you might get, the crowds in both those places is hard to describe.
As we toured both the Louvre and Versailles, Ellie and I were part of an incredible crush of people moving from one sight to the next, crowded on all four sides by strangers focused on taking in one incredible sight after another. As I have reflected on these experiences ever since, and now in the context of today’s scripture I have had a bit of realization.
As we toured these powerful and historic museums that are incredibly popular, we were part of a sea of humanity with no real connection to one another. On far too many occasions during these tours we had to struggle to keep our place and to make our way to have a good view of one painting or another, or the king or queen’s bedroom in Versailles. We needed to almost battle for our position to stay in contact with our tour guide. In fact, it was only the tour guide who provided us a sense of connection to what we were experiencing and how we needed to journey to find our way through the mazes of rooms and halls.
For as much as we were in in close contact to thousands of people all around us, we were for the most part isolated and alone in our journey. During our vacation, we had the awesome privilege to experiences new parts of the world for us. We met new people and were able to shut off our access to the news for parts of it. Not everything. We were still aware of much of what was going on, but we were able to insulate ourselves from much of the anxiety that is a part of people’s general experience right now. It was a relief.
To be frank, I am of two minds about the general news of our world right now. If we are not careful, we can be led to believe our world is on the brink of total collapse; that we are living in unprecedented times. Things do seem grim, but as a student of history, I am fully aware that these anxieties are a regular thing. A couple of world wars and the fears of the cold war are a few recent examples of times I am sure people also experience that same anxiety. Heck, looking back even further, the book of Revelation and other writings in Hebrew scripture are all about a sense of anxiety and fear about the present and near future.
Now I don’t say this as a way of saying “don’t worry, everything is fine.” That’s not it. No, there are real problems in our world. We can’t hide from our fears and troubles. We need to be ready to find our place to stand and hold firm.
The tensions and violence in our world are increasing. A growing number of people appear open to be dismissing the worth of their neighbours, or see treating them humanely as a transactional issue. What can they offer me to be treated with compassion and justice?
All of these concerns threaten to further isolate us, to push us to be increasingly suspicious and afraid of our neighbours, of our friends, of our families. And in this environment of anxiety, of increasing isolation and suspicion, I would argue, prayer is all the more important.
Today we read in Luke that one of Jesus’s disciples asks Jesus to teach them to pray, as John taught his disciples. At first glance, it’s a curious question. Did the disciples feel unworthy of prayer? Were they uncertain of the words of prayer, or if they were properly schooled in the prayers of the Jewish people? I find that difficult to believe. Hebrew scripture is filled with prayers and examples of prayer that were a regular part of the Hebrew day. Blessings, entreaties, reminders of their place in God’s world, were all part of regular Jewish prayer.
But having just witnessed Jesus in prayer, I wonder if the disciples were yearning to learn more about how Jesus related to God. Who God was and is in his eyes and experience?
“Pray like this”, Jesus says, and proceeds to describe God’s presence in heaven and in the world.
How God hears us and provides for us and protects us. The words of this prayer Jesus taught the disciples, and by extension taught to us, tells us how Jesus sees God. They tell us how God responds, how God hears us, sees us, and how we should respond to the generosity of our loving God.
Prayers is entering into a conversation with God. It is about voicing our appreciation and naming our concerns and our fears. It is in effect letting ourselves be vulnerable in the presence of the Holy.
Matt Skinner notes that in the prayer Jesus teaches us, we are offered a glimpse of who God is for Jesus. God hears us, provides for us, forgives us, protects us. And God also expects us to be generous to one another.
God is not some far away figure passing judgment on us. God is right there hearing us and inviting us into a deeper relationship. God is active in our world and offering us God’s kingdom is here for those of us who are ready to reach out and touch it. The doors to that kingdom are open if we are ready to enter.
Author and scholar Anne Lamott in her book Help, Thanks, Wow: the Three Essential Prayers, says, “Prayer means that, in some unique way, we believe we’re invited into a relationship with someone who hears us when we speak in silence … Prayer is our sometimes real selves trying to communicate with the Real, with Truth, with the Light. It is reaching out to be heard, hoping to be found by a light and warmth in the world, instead of darkness and cold.”
C.S. Lewis is quoted as saying, prayer doesn’t change God. It changes me.
In a world that can seem oh so disconnected.
In a world where we can be tempted to feel hopeless and helpless; prayer reminds us that we are not alone.
We are connected to a loving and active God who desires abundance for humanity. Who insists upon justice and compassion for all of us, and who calls us to be a part of making those values and qualities a reality.
We are not helpless; we are not hopeless; we have agency, and we have power.
Because we are God’s.
Prayer is part of reconnecting ourselves to God and by extension the whole of creation. It reminds us that we are not alone. We are part of something so much greater than our individual selves and experiences. We are part of the body of Christ. We can be vulnerable and grateful for God’s continued presence in the world.
We are valued, we are loved, and we are heard. May we not forget that and may we continue to pray and to connect with the Real, with the Truth and with the Light.
Thanks be to God. Amen
Rev. Warner Bloomfield

Music provided with permission through licensing with CCLI License number
2701258 and One License # A-731789