Christians Too Busy To Pray
Sermon
The Glory Of Our Weakness
Sermons With Children's Lessons For Lent And Easter
It was bedtime for the six-year-old who had been sitting in the living room with his family. When his father told him to go up to bed, the boy immediately and without any protest headed for the stairs (which tells you that this story did not take place in my house), and as he reached the landing, he turned around and said, 'Well, I ïm going off to pray now. Anybody want anything?'
Of course, many people (and not just children) in this 'gimme, gimme' society have that kind of attitude about prayer. Prayer is about asking and receiving, not giving and listening. It is the religious equivalent of going to the shopping mall, climbing up on Santa ïs knee and presenting a list of all the things we want.
Other people in our secular culture do not view prayer as a means to gain; they simply view it as irrelevant. I don ït think I will ever forget how graphically this was illustrated one evening during the televised coverage of the 1988 Democratic National Convention. I was shocked as I watched this episode unfold on national television.
The incident took place during a pause in the speeches and as a minister was brought in to offer a prayer. The camera was on the Rev. Jesse Jackson, a candidate for president that year, who was standing on the edge of the speaker ïs platform with his head bowed as the prayer began. Suddenly, Connie Chung, a network news reporter, approached Jesse Jackson, intending to do an interview. At first, Jesse simply held up his hand as if to say, 'Not now,' but Connie Chung persisted with her question. Finally, the Rev. Jackson was forced to raise his head and say to her, 'Please wait; we are praying now.'
'They were only praying!' I suppose it was a perfect opportunity for an interview from a secular journalist ïs point of view, since there weren ït any speeches being delivered and it wasn ït time for a commercial yet. Certainly, listening to a prayer was far less important or newsworthy than getting Jesse Jackson ïs latest analysis of the latest issue on the convention floor. But from a Christian ïs point of view, that minister ïs prayer might have been the most important thing that happened all night!
Needless to say, we in the church know that prayer is not an exercise in 'gimme, gimme,' and we know it isn ït irrelevant. Instead, the problem many of us have is that we are simply too busy to pray! We have so much to do and so little time in which to do it that we just can ït spare precious minutes or hours sitting quietly by ourselves in daily prayer. That is a luxury we cannot afford. We Americans are a very practical, material, 'results oriented' people who might feel we should be using that time more efficiently to accomplish something constructive.
Of course, the lives of great Christians have demonstrated that precisely the opposite is the case. I think particularly of Martin Luther, the Augustinian monk whose act of defiance against Roman Catholicism in 1517 launched the Protestant church.
Here was a man who preached weekly for his own congregation and wrote enough books to fill a good-sized library room from floor to ceiling. He corresponded widely with leading figures throughout Europe and often had to defend himself in the religious and political controversies which swirled about him. He was a devoted husband and a doting father to a large number of children, and when he wasn ït occupied with all of that, he was busy changing the history of the Western world as a leader of the Protestant Reformation!
Luther was asked how, with all he had to do, he could afford to spend four hours every morning in prayer. His answer was that if he didn ït devote that time in prayer, he wouldn ït be able to accomplish half of what he was accomplishing with his life.
Just as physical exercise brings energy to the body, prayer is spiritual exercise which energizes the soul. A regular discipline of prayer does not facilitate a retreat from our busy world but a deeper engagement in it. More than that, prayer is indispensable for those who wish to pattern their lives after our Lord, Jesus Christ, who will forever remain the quintessential example of a Man who combined a life of action with a life of prayer.
Here in our text, we see Jesus in what must have been the most anguished, intense moment of His life. He is in the Garden of Gethsemane on the Mount of Olives, just a few minutes ï walk from the city walls of Jerusalem and just a few hours away from His arrest, trial, and execution. He has come to this quiet place to pray.
The first thing our text tells us is that Jesus went to the Mount of Olives 'as was His custom.' This says that Jesus made prayer a regular habit, a customary pattern in the rhythm of His life. Indeed, even a quick reading of the gospels reveals any number of occasions when Jesus withdrew from His hectic schedule and the crowds which were clamoring for His attention in order to be alone and pray.
Because Jesus had prayed regularly for years, He could be helped by prayer when He needed that help the most. If you have not driven a car for ten years and suddenly find yourself driving in a dangerous blizzard, don ït expect to summon up quick instincts and driving skills to save you, because you allowed those skills to atrophy through lack of use. In the same way, a prayer life which helps you through a difficult crisis cannot be summoned up or built in a day; a foundation must be laid patiently and persistently over the years until you have fashioned a structure of prayer which can withstand even life ïs most devastating storms.
The next thing we notice in our text is that Jesus approaches God honestly in prayer, making no secret of the way He feels. We are told that He prayed 'earnestly,' to the point where 'His sweat became like great drops of blood falling to the ground.' Picture a Man kneeling over a flat praying rock in a garden grove of olive trees, with darkness falling and deadly enemies just hours away. This was no time to try to conceal the way He really felt.
Of course, many of us do precisely that in our daily lives. Someone asks how we are and we breezily answer, 'Oh, just fine, thank you,' even though a voice is screaming inside that things are not fine. We put happy masks on our faces to hide our tears or distract attention from the tumult in our souls.
Perhaps we do this because we are too proud to reveal our weakness to someone else. Perhaps we were open with our feelings in the past and were stung by the indifference or betrayal we received in return. Maybe we think that a person with real Christian faith would not have such feelings, so we deny that they exist within us. For whatever reason, many of us have become quite skilled at hiding our feelings from others as well as ourselves.
Of course, we can hide our real selves from other people, but we cannot hide anything from God, and Jesus shows us that there is no reason even to try. After all, is this not the Son of God having second thoughts about going to Calvary? Is He not asking to be spared the cruel ordeal which lies ahead? 'Father, take this cup from Me!' If even Jesus can confess His doubts and weakness when He comes to God in prayer, can we be any less honest when we enter the nights of our Gethsemanes? Indeed, there is no other way to be with God in prayer, because God knows what is in our hearts and minds even before we open our lips to speak.
Our text records only a brief, one-sentence prayer from Jesus, but that sentence represents the crux of a prayer which went on for hours: 'Father, if it be Your will, let this cup pass from Me!' You have to imagine Jesus pleading with God long into the night, and then you have to imagine Him listening for God ïs reply.
Many people think of prayer as speaking to God, but as the years go by, I am more and more convinced that real prayer is a discipline of listening. The difficulty we find in prayer is the difficulty we find in listening, and if you wonder what I mean by that, go off by yourselves to a quiet place this afternoon and really try to listen.
What happens when we seek to listen in an attitude of prayer? As we wait for God to speak, our minds get filled with thoughts of things we have to do today, things we forgot to do yesterday or things which have bothered us lately. We get an itch on our leg and wonder whether to scratch it. There are a hundred barriers to real listening in prayer, and sometimes we can only manage to achieve a true state of spiritual listening for a few seconds or minutes at a time.
Nevertheless, this is what it means to pray, and Jesus listened for God ïs answer in the Garden of Gethsemane. Finally that answer came, and it is revealed in the second half of this one-sentence prayer in our text, when Jesus says to God, 'Yet, not My will but Your will be done.'
This is the end of every true prayer, for real prayer is not the discovery of our will but the discernment of God ïs will. Real prayer always leads us to say in one way or another, 'Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.' When you come away from prayer filled not with a sense of directing God to your purposes but being directed by God to His purposes, then you know you have really prayed, for you know you have really listened.
Notice that the answer is not the one Jesus asked for. God ïs will is rarely what we ask for, which is another test of true versus false prayer. Nevertheless, as soon as Jesus gets His reply -- 'God ïs will and not My will be done" -- our text says an angel came from heaven and strengthened Him, giving Him the courage not only to face the trial which lay ahead but also to triumph over it.
That sequence of events in our text says a great deal about the power and efficacy of prayer. It tells us that in the end it doesn ït really matter whether the specific prayers we make are answered or the specific petitions we ask are granted. What ultimately matters is being strengthened for life ïs journey, being 'more than conquerors' (Romans 8:37) as we travel down life ïs road, being spiritually victorious in a way which does not depend on life ïs circumstances going well for us at any particular time.
For that, we need to listen as we pray, listen not for the answer for which we are praying but for the answer God is giving us. If God were to say to us, 'I have taken care of the problem you have prayed to Me about,' we may or may not be better off the next time a problem arises. But when God says, 'I am with You,' or 'My will, not your will, is being done,' then we know we are ready to face death and life, powers and principalities, things present and things to come, for God has given us -- not the answer we may have asked for -- but the only answer we really need.
I once knew a man who suffered painful arthritis in his hands, to the point where he could no longer do the things he loved to do. As he prayed for years and years about his condition, his arthritis was never healed, but he did find himself growing in spiritual terms until he no longer felt debilitated by his disease. He became fond of saying, 'I have arthritis, but arthritis doesn ït have me!' Like Jesus in Gethsemane, he didn ït get what he prayed for, but he was victorious in a more important way just the same.
The final lesson our text offers on prayer comes at the end, when Jesus warns His disciples to keep praying, lest they enter into temptation. In the disciples ï case, they would be tempted to save their own skins when the soldiers came for Jesus -- which is precisely what they did. In our case, we too are tempted to live for ourselves rather than Christ, even if in ways more subtle.
We can be tempted by materialism to live for our possessions and tempted by hedonism to live for our pleasures. We can be tempted by nationalism to hate our enemies and tempted by expediency to compromise our integrity. We can be tempted by privatism to live for ourselves and our loved ones, never understanding why this cannot be enough or why we are called out of our homes and into the household of God. Anything in life -- be it within us or beyond us -- anything which keeps us from living with God as our very first priority is a temptation, and Jesus is telling us to pray regularly that we may not enter into temptation.
I remember watching a young toddler at a party her parents were attending. She had obviously just learned to walk (for she careened around the room half in control and half ready to fall as early walkers do), and she was plainly delighted with her newfound mobility, but the room was full of very tall people she did not know. I watched her wander off exploring as children are wont to do, but she regularly came back to her parents (or at least came back to where she could see her parents), just to be sure they were still there. She didn ït want to wander so far as to lose touch with them for more than a few minutes at a time.
This is how we are with God in prayer. As we wander off in our daily affairs, we need to check in regularly with God, to make sure we are not straying too far from His way, to make sure we are still in touch with His purpose for our lives and not living merely for our own selfish or worldly purposes. We need to be certain that the daily demands of our pursuit of happiness do not distract us from our greater pursuit of holiness.
Prayer is the way we do that. Prayer is our conscience checker, our reality tester, a lifeline which keeps us anchored to God ïs will as winds of temptation blow us to and fro. Prayer gives us strength for the journey while reminding us of our destination. There is simply no better way to remain focused on what is truly most important in our lives than to practice a regular discipline of daily prayer.
God is waiting to speak to us if we will merely take the time to listen. God is ready to comfort us in Gethsemane and guide us to eternity if we will merely seek His Word. It is for us a matter of vision, a question of priorities, a commitment to a quality of life far beyond our imagining. Yes, we all have long lists of things we must do today and every day, but can any of us say we are really too busy to pray? Amen.
Pastoral Prayer
Most Holy and Righteous God, who can speak through earthquake, wind, and fire, and who can whisper in a still, small voice which only a receptive heart can hear, help us this Lenten season to develop a more faithful habit of prayer. Teach us to seek You daily in prayer, first with honest confession, then with earnest petition, and finally with eager listening. Help us to trust that no matter how bruised or battered our spirits may be, You will receive us in our prayers just as we are, without one plea.
Help us, dear Lord, through the practice of daily prayer, to touch Your divine strength and grace, that we may be encouraged and sustained as we walk the crowded pathways of life. Speak to us tenderly as we listen for Your Word and tell us that Your will is being done, for then we may know a joy within us which triumph cannot flatter and tragedy cannot destroy. Build within us a spiritual edifice of power and truth, and let the foundation of that edifice be our daily devotion to the discipline of prayer. In Jesus ï name, we pray. Amen.
Of course, many people (and not just children) in this 'gimme, gimme' society have that kind of attitude about prayer. Prayer is about asking and receiving, not giving and listening. It is the religious equivalent of going to the shopping mall, climbing up on Santa ïs knee and presenting a list of all the things we want.
Other people in our secular culture do not view prayer as a means to gain; they simply view it as irrelevant. I don ït think I will ever forget how graphically this was illustrated one evening during the televised coverage of the 1988 Democratic National Convention. I was shocked as I watched this episode unfold on national television.
The incident took place during a pause in the speeches and as a minister was brought in to offer a prayer. The camera was on the Rev. Jesse Jackson, a candidate for president that year, who was standing on the edge of the speaker ïs platform with his head bowed as the prayer began. Suddenly, Connie Chung, a network news reporter, approached Jesse Jackson, intending to do an interview. At first, Jesse simply held up his hand as if to say, 'Not now,' but Connie Chung persisted with her question. Finally, the Rev. Jackson was forced to raise his head and say to her, 'Please wait; we are praying now.'
'They were only praying!' I suppose it was a perfect opportunity for an interview from a secular journalist ïs point of view, since there weren ït any speeches being delivered and it wasn ït time for a commercial yet. Certainly, listening to a prayer was far less important or newsworthy than getting Jesse Jackson ïs latest analysis of the latest issue on the convention floor. But from a Christian ïs point of view, that minister ïs prayer might have been the most important thing that happened all night!
Needless to say, we in the church know that prayer is not an exercise in 'gimme, gimme,' and we know it isn ït irrelevant. Instead, the problem many of us have is that we are simply too busy to pray! We have so much to do and so little time in which to do it that we just can ït spare precious minutes or hours sitting quietly by ourselves in daily prayer. That is a luxury we cannot afford. We Americans are a very practical, material, 'results oriented' people who might feel we should be using that time more efficiently to accomplish something constructive.
Of course, the lives of great Christians have demonstrated that precisely the opposite is the case. I think particularly of Martin Luther, the Augustinian monk whose act of defiance against Roman Catholicism in 1517 launched the Protestant church.
Here was a man who preached weekly for his own congregation and wrote enough books to fill a good-sized library room from floor to ceiling. He corresponded widely with leading figures throughout Europe and often had to defend himself in the religious and political controversies which swirled about him. He was a devoted husband and a doting father to a large number of children, and when he wasn ït occupied with all of that, he was busy changing the history of the Western world as a leader of the Protestant Reformation!
Luther was asked how, with all he had to do, he could afford to spend four hours every morning in prayer. His answer was that if he didn ït devote that time in prayer, he wouldn ït be able to accomplish half of what he was accomplishing with his life.
Just as physical exercise brings energy to the body, prayer is spiritual exercise which energizes the soul. A regular discipline of prayer does not facilitate a retreat from our busy world but a deeper engagement in it. More than that, prayer is indispensable for those who wish to pattern their lives after our Lord, Jesus Christ, who will forever remain the quintessential example of a Man who combined a life of action with a life of prayer.
Here in our text, we see Jesus in what must have been the most anguished, intense moment of His life. He is in the Garden of Gethsemane on the Mount of Olives, just a few minutes ï walk from the city walls of Jerusalem and just a few hours away from His arrest, trial, and execution. He has come to this quiet place to pray.
The first thing our text tells us is that Jesus went to the Mount of Olives 'as was His custom.' This says that Jesus made prayer a regular habit, a customary pattern in the rhythm of His life. Indeed, even a quick reading of the gospels reveals any number of occasions when Jesus withdrew from His hectic schedule and the crowds which were clamoring for His attention in order to be alone and pray.
Because Jesus had prayed regularly for years, He could be helped by prayer when He needed that help the most. If you have not driven a car for ten years and suddenly find yourself driving in a dangerous blizzard, don ït expect to summon up quick instincts and driving skills to save you, because you allowed those skills to atrophy through lack of use. In the same way, a prayer life which helps you through a difficult crisis cannot be summoned up or built in a day; a foundation must be laid patiently and persistently over the years until you have fashioned a structure of prayer which can withstand even life ïs most devastating storms.
The next thing we notice in our text is that Jesus approaches God honestly in prayer, making no secret of the way He feels. We are told that He prayed 'earnestly,' to the point where 'His sweat became like great drops of blood falling to the ground.' Picture a Man kneeling over a flat praying rock in a garden grove of olive trees, with darkness falling and deadly enemies just hours away. This was no time to try to conceal the way He really felt.
Of course, many of us do precisely that in our daily lives. Someone asks how we are and we breezily answer, 'Oh, just fine, thank you,' even though a voice is screaming inside that things are not fine. We put happy masks on our faces to hide our tears or distract attention from the tumult in our souls.
Perhaps we do this because we are too proud to reveal our weakness to someone else. Perhaps we were open with our feelings in the past and were stung by the indifference or betrayal we received in return. Maybe we think that a person with real Christian faith would not have such feelings, so we deny that they exist within us. For whatever reason, many of us have become quite skilled at hiding our feelings from others as well as ourselves.
Of course, we can hide our real selves from other people, but we cannot hide anything from God, and Jesus shows us that there is no reason even to try. After all, is this not the Son of God having second thoughts about going to Calvary? Is He not asking to be spared the cruel ordeal which lies ahead? 'Father, take this cup from Me!' If even Jesus can confess His doubts and weakness when He comes to God in prayer, can we be any less honest when we enter the nights of our Gethsemanes? Indeed, there is no other way to be with God in prayer, because God knows what is in our hearts and minds even before we open our lips to speak.
Our text records only a brief, one-sentence prayer from Jesus, but that sentence represents the crux of a prayer which went on for hours: 'Father, if it be Your will, let this cup pass from Me!' You have to imagine Jesus pleading with God long into the night, and then you have to imagine Him listening for God ïs reply.
Many people think of prayer as speaking to God, but as the years go by, I am more and more convinced that real prayer is a discipline of listening. The difficulty we find in prayer is the difficulty we find in listening, and if you wonder what I mean by that, go off by yourselves to a quiet place this afternoon and really try to listen.
What happens when we seek to listen in an attitude of prayer? As we wait for God to speak, our minds get filled with thoughts of things we have to do today, things we forgot to do yesterday or things which have bothered us lately. We get an itch on our leg and wonder whether to scratch it. There are a hundred barriers to real listening in prayer, and sometimes we can only manage to achieve a true state of spiritual listening for a few seconds or minutes at a time.
Nevertheless, this is what it means to pray, and Jesus listened for God ïs answer in the Garden of Gethsemane. Finally that answer came, and it is revealed in the second half of this one-sentence prayer in our text, when Jesus says to God, 'Yet, not My will but Your will be done.'
This is the end of every true prayer, for real prayer is not the discovery of our will but the discernment of God ïs will. Real prayer always leads us to say in one way or another, 'Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.' When you come away from prayer filled not with a sense of directing God to your purposes but being directed by God to His purposes, then you know you have really prayed, for you know you have really listened.
Notice that the answer is not the one Jesus asked for. God ïs will is rarely what we ask for, which is another test of true versus false prayer. Nevertheless, as soon as Jesus gets His reply -- 'God ïs will and not My will be done" -- our text says an angel came from heaven and strengthened Him, giving Him the courage not only to face the trial which lay ahead but also to triumph over it.
That sequence of events in our text says a great deal about the power and efficacy of prayer. It tells us that in the end it doesn ït really matter whether the specific prayers we make are answered or the specific petitions we ask are granted. What ultimately matters is being strengthened for life ïs journey, being 'more than conquerors' (Romans 8:37) as we travel down life ïs road, being spiritually victorious in a way which does not depend on life ïs circumstances going well for us at any particular time.
For that, we need to listen as we pray, listen not for the answer for which we are praying but for the answer God is giving us. If God were to say to us, 'I have taken care of the problem you have prayed to Me about,' we may or may not be better off the next time a problem arises. But when God says, 'I am with You,' or 'My will, not your will, is being done,' then we know we are ready to face death and life, powers and principalities, things present and things to come, for God has given us -- not the answer we may have asked for -- but the only answer we really need.
I once knew a man who suffered painful arthritis in his hands, to the point where he could no longer do the things he loved to do. As he prayed for years and years about his condition, his arthritis was never healed, but he did find himself growing in spiritual terms until he no longer felt debilitated by his disease. He became fond of saying, 'I have arthritis, but arthritis doesn ït have me!' Like Jesus in Gethsemane, he didn ït get what he prayed for, but he was victorious in a more important way just the same.
The final lesson our text offers on prayer comes at the end, when Jesus warns His disciples to keep praying, lest they enter into temptation. In the disciples ï case, they would be tempted to save their own skins when the soldiers came for Jesus -- which is precisely what they did. In our case, we too are tempted to live for ourselves rather than Christ, even if in ways more subtle.
We can be tempted by materialism to live for our possessions and tempted by hedonism to live for our pleasures. We can be tempted by nationalism to hate our enemies and tempted by expediency to compromise our integrity. We can be tempted by privatism to live for ourselves and our loved ones, never understanding why this cannot be enough or why we are called out of our homes and into the household of God. Anything in life -- be it within us or beyond us -- anything which keeps us from living with God as our very first priority is a temptation, and Jesus is telling us to pray regularly that we may not enter into temptation.
I remember watching a young toddler at a party her parents were attending. She had obviously just learned to walk (for she careened around the room half in control and half ready to fall as early walkers do), and she was plainly delighted with her newfound mobility, but the room was full of very tall people she did not know. I watched her wander off exploring as children are wont to do, but she regularly came back to her parents (or at least came back to where she could see her parents), just to be sure they were still there. She didn ït want to wander so far as to lose touch with them for more than a few minutes at a time.
This is how we are with God in prayer. As we wander off in our daily affairs, we need to check in regularly with God, to make sure we are not straying too far from His way, to make sure we are still in touch with His purpose for our lives and not living merely for our own selfish or worldly purposes. We need to be certain that the daily demands of our pursuit of happiness do not distract us from our greater pursuit of holiness.
Prayer is the way we do that. Prayer is our conscience checker, our reality tester, a lifeline which keeps us anchored to God ïs will as winds of temptation blow us to and fro. Prayer gives us strength for the journey while reminding us of our destination. There is simply no better way to remain focused on what is truly most important in our lives than to practice a regular discipline of daily prayer.
God is waiting to speak to us if we will merely take the time to listen. God is ready to comfort us in Gethsemane and guide us to eternity if we will merely seek His Word. It is for us a matter of vision, a question of priorities, a commitment to a quality of life far beyond our imagining. Yes, we all have long lists of things we must do today and every day, but can any of us say we are really too busy to pray? Amen.
Pastoral Prayer
Most Holy and Righteous God, who can speak through earthquake, wind, and fire, and who can whisper in a still, small voice which only a receptive heart can hear, help us this Lenten season to develop a more faithful habit of prayer. Teach us to seek You daily in prayer, first with honest confession, then with earnest petition, and finally with eager listening. Help us to trust that no matter how bruised or battered our spirits may be, You will receive us in our prayers just as we are, without one plea.
Help us, dear Lord, through the practice of daily prayer, to touch Your divine strength and grace, that we may be encouraged and sustained as we walk the crowded pathways of life. Speak to us tenderly as we listen for Your Word and tell us that Your will is being done, for then we may know a joy within us which triumph cannot flatter and tragedy cannot destroy. Build within us a spiritual edifice of power and truth, and let the foundation of that edifice be our daily devotion to the discipline of prayer. In Jesus ï name, we pray. Amen.
