My Soul Magnifies the Lord!

My soul magnifies the Lord!

The Rev. Kathi Johnson

Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth, Year B – 31 May 2015

Marks of Discipleship: Prayer

Text: Luke 1:39-57; Psalm 113:1

Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

+ INJ +

When I was a church musician and attended church music conferences, one of the opportunities available was signing up for a Master Class. So, if you were an organist, for example, and wanted to have some time at the keyboard with one of the Master Organist workshop presenters, that was your chance. It was a chance to learn from the masters – from those who’ve proven themselves to be fantastic performers at their craft.

I have a recording of a Master Keyboardist named Glenn Gould, and the recording is Mr. Gould playing Johann Sebastian Bach’s Goldberg Variations. Pretty early on after purchasing it, the more I listened to this recording, the more I believed that I was hearing something over the music. Like, a voice – an other-worldly voice, humming – one that certainly didn’t belong in a recording of piano music.

The more I’ve listened to this recording in my earbuds (rather than over speakers), the more I’ve realized that what I’m hearing is Mr. Gould himself humming along with what he’s playing. In one place, I can hear him ticking off some articulated notes with his tongue. What I am hearing is a master at work with his craft.

As we think about prayer – and learn about it as disciples of Jesus – we do well to learn from Master Pray-ers. Martin Luther was a Master Pray-er. A friend of his overheard Luther in prayer one day, and this was his observation: “Good God, what spirit, what faith was in his words! He prayed for things with such reverence-as befits God-and with such hope and faith that he seemed to be holding a conversation with a father or a friend…My soul was set on fire with such singular passion to hear him speak with God in such a friendly, serious, and reverent manner.”[1]

Martin Luther used the psalms a lot in his prayers. We believe the psalms were meant to be sung, originally, but if you read them, they are also prayers in addition to being songs – prayers for help, prayers for comfort, prayers for strength.

The psalms are full of all kinds of prayers, but they are also full of praise to God: for deliverance from danger, for God’s mercy and goodness, for God’s steadfast love and faithfulness. As we read or sing these psalms, we are listening to and singing words of Master Pray-ers from ages past.

We’ve spent time the last couple of weeks talking about praying according to God’s will, and how the Spirit guides our prayers and intercedes when we don’t know what to pray. However, our prayers are not always to be about asking God for something. Our prayers ought also to include praise of God – as an example, I give you our psalm today, Psalm 113, which at the beginning, says, “Give praise, you servants of the LORD; praise the name of the LORD.”

Throughout Scripture, we have the words of Master Pray-ers, like the prayer of Hannah in today’s Old Testament lesson. Or, as I said, in the Book of Psalms. Whenever we read the prayers contained in Scripture, we are listening, or overhearing what they prayed and how they prayed.

Today, we are remembering the Visitation of Mary, the Mother of our Lord, to her relative, Elizabeth. For some context: Mary has just found out that she is pregnant with Jesus, and she goes to visit Elizabeth, who is pregnant with John the Baptist. As the women are greeting each other, the Spirit fills Elizabeth, who praises Mary for her willingness to be such a servant of God.

Mary responds with this wonderful prayer of praise – what we call the “Magnificat” because of how the first phrase of her prayer appears in Latin. “My soul magnifies the Lord,” Mary says, “and my spirit rejoices in God, my Savior…” and then, she goes on to praise God for all God’s mighty deeds: God’s favor to her, God’s mercy, and God’s faithfulness to the lowliest people in society.

In the Magnificat, we are hearing the words of a Master Pray-er, and how she praises God. Mary lifts up God’s character. God’s character that is unchanged by the two thousand years that have passed from her lifetime to ours. Mary praises God for God’s on-going care for those who are often neglected, and she praises God for sending the child that she is carrying in her womb – the child she realizes will be the Savior of all humankind.

We are certainly called to pray to God, offering God our prayers for healing or peace or whatever else may be on our hearts. But – just like the prayers we read from the Master Pray-ers - our prayers should also be filled with our words of praise: for God’s great love for us, for God’s faithfulness and steadfastness, and for God’s provision.

I gave you a prayer challenge last week, to pray for people around you and also to work your way through the prayer list. This week, I challenge you to make a list – either in writing or not – of everything for which you are grateful. And then, spend some time giving thanks and praise to God. If you need an example to guide you, I suggest you turn to the psalms. The last five psalms, especially, are full of praises.

“Praise the Lord, for the Lord is good!”[2]

Amen.

+ SDG +

---

[1] Quoted by Timothy Wengert in Martin Luther’s Catechisms: Forming the Faith, Fortress Press, pp. 69-70.

[2] Psalm 135:3

A Roll of the Dice

And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias; and he was added to the eleven apostles.
Acts 1:26

Easter 7 in Year B – 17 May 2015

Marks of Discipleship: Prayer

Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

+ INJ +

As we continue to focus on the Marks of Discipleship, I’m using the lesson from Acts as my sermon text to talk about prayer today because this lesson gives us insight into how the very first followers of Jesus discerned God’s will – using prayer and a roll of the dice.

This story from Acts is all about the very first organizational meeting of the Church. These followers of Jesus – the apostles – have just watched Jesus ascend into heaven. They return to Jerusalem, and they devote themselves to prayer, waiting for whatever it is that God has next for them.

Out of this prayer time, they discern a need. Jesus had lots of followers, but he had twelve disciples with whom he had a special relationship. These twelve were with Jesus constantly during his earthly ministry, and yet one of those twelve betrayed Jesus, and was no longer part of their group. So this first group of Jesus followers discerns a need to fill that place that has been vacated – to find someone to round out the number to twelve yet again.

Why twelve? That number represents the twelve tribes of Israel. To this community of mostly Jewish men and women, it’s a number of completeness – to have only eleven would feel incomplete to them. Twelve is the number that means that all is right with the world.

So we hear about the first church election: Two names are put forth – two people we don’t read about by name in the stories of Jesus: Justus and Matthias. Even though we don’t know them, they are obviously well known to this community, and they are known as people who have been with Jesus throughout his ministry.

The election process is quite simple: “…they prayed and said, ‘Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which one of these two you have chosen to take the place in this ministry...’ And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias; and he was added to the eleven apostles.”[1]

They cast lots, which means they rolled the dice - or at least something similar to dice – to make this decision. Casting lots is an ancient method for making decisions. It sounds a bit crazy to us – would you call a pastor by flipping a coin?

And yet, the important part of the story is not that they cast the lots to make this decision. The important part of the story comes before they cast the lots: “…they prayed and said, ‘Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Show us which one of these two you have chosen…” Their prayer is for God to reveal God’s will to them – to find out which one God has chosen.

Their prayer is not for their own wills to be done – or for their favorite to win the election. Their prayer is for God’s will to be done – which means setting aside their own hopes and fears for what lies ahead.

Discerning God’s will is one of the biggest questions that we humans have. If you go to any Christian bookstore or poke around the Christian living section on Amazon, you’ll find all kinds of books that claim to be able to help you find God’s perfect will for your life. These authors have hit a goldmine because they know that so many of us struggle with the simple question: What is God’s will?

We may ask God again and again for an answer to this question. We may feel like we never receive a clear answer, or we may know that we’ve heard clearly what God’s will is. But setting aside our own hopes and fears is an essential step in prayer. Can we see ourselves, like those first disciples, rolling the dice or casting those lots, leaving our questions and the answers in God’s loving hands?

Martin Luther wrote about prayer extensively. In his Small Catechism, when writing about the Third

Petition of the Lord’s Prayer – the part that says, “Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” 

Luther said that “God’s good and gracious will comes about without our prayer, but we ask…that it 

may also come about in and among us.”

Prayer changes us. Prayer helps us to see that our will and God’s will may not be the same. Prayer helps us see that God’s vision may be so much bigger (or smaller) than what our vision is. Prayer helps us see how great is the love the Father has given to us, that we may be called the children of God – for that is what we are.[2]

There was a saying that was popular among Christians when I was in high school and college: “Let go and let God.” It’s a short, easy-to-remember phrase that is a helpful reminder to us that not all things are in our control. But if we think about God’s will being formed in and among us whenever we pray, then this phrase takes on a different meaning.

When we pray, we let go of our bad attitudes. When we pray, we let go of our harmful prejudices. When we pray, we let go of overwhelming fear and doubt. When we pray, we let God shape his will within and among us.

All of us face challenges, or questions, or tough decisions from time to time. Maybe you are burdened with one (or more) of those this morning. Let us pray for those concerns now:

Lord, you know everyone’s heart. Shape your will in us and among us, and help us to hear your voice. Where we are lost, find us. Where we are confused, clear our minds. Where we cannot make a difficult decision, give us the strength we need to act. Remind us of your great love for us. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

+ SDG +

---

[1] Acts 1:24-26

[2] See 1 John 3:1.

God is Listening

Let us pray...

C Lectionary 29 – October 20, 2013

Text: Luke 18:1-8 (Persistent widow)

Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, Grand Prairie, Texas

+ INJ +

Grace and peace be with you, from God our Father, and the Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Today we hear another parable from Jesus – this one, about a persistent widow. Widows had few legal protections in Jesus’ time, but this woman has an issue with someone else and so she keeps going to the judge to demand justice for herself. Eventually, we’re told, she wears him down – not because her cause is just, but rather because the judge becomes tired of hearing her nagging. He even says that to himself – basically that “I have no fear of God and I don’t respect anyone, but this lady is wearing me out, so fine. FINE. Give her what she wants already!”

Unlike some of the other parables of Jesus, we’re told right off the bat what this parable is about. Verse 1: “Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart.” There it is. So, right off the bat, we can begin assigning characters, right? The widow is…us. The judge is…God. And her pleas to the judge are…our prayers to God.

And that’s where things get a little bit uncomfortable for me because the judge in this story is kind of a jerk. We’re told so by Jesus (he tells us that the judge had no fear of God nor respect for the people) – and we see it for ourselves in this story. The judge gives in not because he has a yearning for justice to be done for this woman who sits firmly at the bottom of the social structure. He gives in not because he feels some sense of moral obligation to obey God’s commandments about caring for widows and orphans. He gives in because he’s tired of listening to her jibber jabber.

And so then the question becomes: is that really God? If we’re like the persistent widow in this story, knocking on heaven’s gates with our persistent prayers to God, is God up there, throwing out answers to us not because he loves us but because he’s tired of our whining? I’m pretty uncomfortable picturing God this way.

Maybe the point of this story, then, is not that God is like the unjust judge. Maybe the point of the story is not for us to learn about God by looking at how the judge behaves in this parable. Rather, maybe the focus should be on the widow and her persistence with the judge. What can we learn from watching her?

She has a need and she takes it to the judge, over and over and over again. It becomes her priority – it is, for our purposes, the thing at the top of her calendar every single day. She isn’t deterred by the judge’s behavior – she isn’t discouraged in the slightest, as far as we can tell. What can we learn from this widow?

Well, since we know that this is a parable about prayer, then what we learn is that persistence in prayer is a good thing. That – like the widow – when we pray, we should keep at it – make it our priority – put it at the top of our calendars – and, above all, not be discouraged when our prayers seem to be availing us nothing.

What on earth do we do then? What on earth do we do when we keep on praying, only to feel as though we might as well be banging our head against a brick wall. I wonder if the widow ever felt that way when she was dealing with this ridiculous judge…?

If the lesson for us in this story is to look to the widow as our example, then the answer to my question is very simple indeed. What on earth do we do when we are stuck in our prayers to God?

We keep on praying.

Maybe it feels like a waste of our time. We’re such cause-and-effect people, aren’t we? We want to ask for this and get that. It can be very easy to think of approaching God in prayer sort of like we might approach a clerk at a customer service desk: “I have this item; I need to return it; yes, I have my receipt; please give me credit on my credit card; yes, I’ll sign here; thank you for helping me.” And out the door we go, tra-la, with our business transacted and everything signed off.

But when we pray, we are not merely transacting business with God, approaching him with our need and waiting for him to “credit our accounts.” Prayer is about the relationship between God and us. In his Small Catechism, when talking about the Lord’s Prayer, Martin Luther says that we ask God “boldly and with complete confidence, just as loving children ask their loving father.”

The widow in our story certainly is bold and confident in pleading her case before the judge. And so we can be bold and confident in our prayers because however persistent we are in prayer, God is even more persistent in his love for us. “As a father has compassion for his children, so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him,” says Psalm 103.[1]

May we be bold and persistent in prayer in all things and at all times because prayer does much more than just build our relationship with God. Prayer also helps us in our relationships with other people – as we pray for others, we are connected to them, somehow. I truly believe that one way that God’s love reaches others is through our prayers for them. Because I know there are times when I have felt unable to pray – the burden has been too heavy, and it was the prayers of others that lifted the burden.

An acquaintance of mine who serves as an Anglican priest in Canada got some heavy news yesterday about someone in his church. He shared online that he was having a hard time sleeping last night. This morning, I found that he had posted this during his night of insomnia: “Perhaps there are nights I can't sleep because God is keeping vigil with the world, and my soul is the candle God has chosen to light.”

Sometimes, our prayers will be joyous and full of energy. Sometimes, our prayers will be halting because we don’t know quite what to say. Sometimes, we will rely upon the prayers of others to get us through. But at all times, God is listening. God is listening.

Amen.

+ SDG +

---

[1] Verse 13.

How Social Media Helps Me Mourn With Those Who Mourn

#PrayForWest

Last night, Hubby and I went out for a late dinner, following a powerful worship service that included many prayers for the people of Boston. We got to the restaurant, ordered our drinks, and did what has become fairly customary for us: pulled out our smart phones. I perused Twitter while he looked at Facebook.

I'll note here that, generally, I'm not a fan of sitting and staring at a screen when sitting across the table from someone. But this screen time has helped us become kinda like the couple that sits and reads the morning paper together. We share the stories we are reading on our screens; we talk about things we see; we show each other pictures.

So, last night, pretty quickly, I began to see a number of tweets regarding the explosion in West. The number of tweets grew pretty quickly and became more urgent sounding each time I checked. Pictures started appearing, to the point where our dinner conversation surrounded the event that was unfolding just down I-35 to our south.

We got home, and found a news station that had the story on, and I returned to Twitter, adding Facebook to the mix. What I was seeing was staggering - the destruction, the flashing lights, the people - my God, the people! And I started to tweet what I was seeing, what I was feeling, the horror that was trying to overtake me again - and you know what? Others were doing the same thing.

Hubby fell asleep with the news still on. The news continued...and continued...and continued, and so I continued to post prayers, observations, and reactions on Twitter and Facebook, and others engaged those posts in various ways. 

What emerged for me was the sense that it wasn't just me, sitting there in our house, watching horror unfold in front of me while I faced it alone. What emerged for me was the sense that others were out there too - in some cases, on the other side of the world! - watching the same horror that I was, struggling to make some sense out of it, trying desperately to offer prayer and comfort, too. What emerged for me is something akin to the idea of mourning with those who mourn.

I have done this many, many times through social media. I have cried upon reading about someone's diagnosis or death. I have prayed with and for those who have just lost their job, or have had to put a pet to sleep, or who are struggling to care for an aging parent. I have wept - wept so very hard - in the face of some of the burdens we share with one another through social media. And, last night, I wept again, seeing more destruction, more pain, more shock, more horror. Again.

Don't get me wrong - there are plenty of joys that are shared, too - plenty of times when I have rejoiced with those who are rejoicing. I have celebrated with others about new jobs and new babies, new houses and new cars, newly-found freedom and newly-claimed strength. I have said prayers of thanksgiving for all these things, and more. And I have received many, many well-wishes and congratulations via social media in my own times of joy.

But at times like last night, facing horror yet again, I can honestly say that I am grateful for the connections I've made and maintained through social media. I am thankful we can inform one another. I am thankful we can pray for and with one another. I am thankful that I can mourn with those who mourn.