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My favorite eighth grader just confessed his aspiration for becoming President of the United States.

When I foolishly asked the inspiration of his lofty goal, he replied, "Bill Clinton." Then my hormone-raging adolescent proceeded to list perceived presidential perks that have nothing to do with God or country.

My prayer list has been altered.

And my attitude about prayer in public schools has changed too.

I used to be against prayer in public schools.

God knows I believe in prayer. I believe prayer is how we get in touch with God. Regardless of God's specific answers to our specific supplications -- yes, no, or wait -- I believe anyone can experience the kind of peace through prayer which enables a person to overcome the meanness, madness, and misery of life in the modern world.

But as a Christian, I have had serious doubts about the wisdom of allowing prayer in public schools. As a Christian, I believe Jesus is who he said he is. That has made me very nervous about who might be leading the prayers in public schools. As a Christian, I don't want my children being led in prayer by Mormons, Muslims, or Moonies, or anyone else with a less than divine estimate of Jesus.

It's a big country with more than 57 varieties of religious expressions. There has been no guarantee that my children would be led in prayer by Christians. So I was against prayer in public schools.

I'm sure it goes both ways. Just as I don't want my children led in prayer by non-Christians, I'm sure non-Christians don't want their children led in prayer by Christians.

Of course, there's a ridiculous element to the whole debate. I've never figured out how anyone can be prevented from praying. God knows I prayed a lot before Latin and geometry tests and nobody but God knew about it.

But I've had second thoughts.

Things are really going to hell in this country. You can take that any way that you'd like. That's how it's meant.

We could use some outside help. If there was ever a need for prayer, it is now. Even if some folks don't use the right name, God will probably get the message. It's worth a try. I don't think things can get any worse by returning prayer to the classroom.

I'm reminded of that famous picture of George Washington in prayer at Valley Forge after the terrible defeats in Germantown and Philadelphia. The weather was cold. Soldiers were hungry. Some were barefoot. Many were sick. The Continental Congress couldn't help. So Washington fell to his knees, turned to God, and prayed.

We know what happened after that.

Today, it's a much different story thanks to the faithless few who have prevailed over the vast majority of Americans who believe in prayer.

Today's state of intellectual, moral, and spiritual decline is illustrated by the cartoon of a sneering adolescent giving thumbs-down to the picture of George Washington in prayer. The little snot is wearing a t-shirt which declares, "Future American." With rhetorical obnoxiousness, he asks, "What's that square doing down on his knees with his eyes closed?"

We know what's happening because of that. That's why I've changed my mind about school prayer. I also think it's time to hang up those commandments again.

Of course, some things get in the way of pure prayer.

Mechanics are a problem when faith is reduced to a formula instead of a feeling backed up by the facts of our Lord's life and ministry.

I think of the little girl who memorized a table prayer at the insistence of her parents in preparation for a big church dinner. As everybody paused to give thanks, the mother proudly announced the prayer would be provided by her daughter. Unnerved by the whole thing, the little girl's mind went blank. After what seemed like an eternity, her mother elbowed her and whispered loudly, "Say something!" So the little girl began, "I pledge allegiance to the ..."

I remember our son Ben's first attempt to understand prayer. As we sat down to eat, I said, "Let's pray." My firstborn observed in a way that indicated I had not yet helped him to move from the mechanics to the meaning of prayer, "It's okay, Daddy; it's not hot. We don't have to pray for it to cool down."

And if you'll excuse this very personal recollection, I swear I heard God say seconds after I placed a fully prepared and practiced prayer on the pulpit one Sunday morning, "Bob, we've already done that. And just in case you forgot, it's a worship service not a speech class."

Please know I'm not denying the place of patterned and prepared prayers in our spiritual formation and Holy Communion with God. Certainly, the Lord's Prayer is a perfect example of using familiar words over and over and over again in a helpful and refreshing and renewing and redeeming way. I'm only echoing my late friend Bruce Ennis, an engineer from MIT, who often lamented the repetitive use of even the Lord's Prayer in a rote and casual fashion that obscures its meaning. And Bruce was only echoing our Lord himself who said, "When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases" (see Matthew 6:5ff).

In other words, mechanics are a problem when faith is reduced to a formula instead of a feeling backed up by the facts of our Lord's life and ministry.

Putting it another way, mechanics must be coupled with meaning for the message to be communicated.

Mores are a problem when faith is inhibited by an obsession with the contemporary over the authentic.

I really used to get into all of that Elizabethan-English-as-the-language-of-God-that's-why-the-King-James-version-is-the-best nonsense. God knows I prefer the beauty and rhythm of the old King James Bible. I grew up on it. And the psalms just don't sound like psalms when you read them out of those good-news-what's-happening-now translations and paraphrases. But if we're really interested in authentically communicating with our Lord, it makes much more sense to use familiar language.

As a young pastor praying one Sunday and getting totally discombobulated by all of the thous, thees, hasts, wasts, arts, saiths, and so on, I distinctly recall feeling as if God had listened and then said, "What are you talking about? How about speaking a tongue that both of us can understand?"

I've also heard prayers lost in an attempt to follow lesser leaders. You know what I mean. We mimic the styles of others and lose anything remotely resembling meaning or even syntax. I think of a cartoon in The Wittenberg Door many years ago that showed a young man praying, "Lord, I just really want to ask that I will just really be able to stop and really quit using the words 'just' and 'really' so often in my prayers."

Then there are those preachers who ask during worship before they pray, "Shall we pray?" As if it were being put up for a vote!

Certainly, Tony Campolo is among the most authentic preachers in the world. I'll never forget hearing how he taught one especially tradition-chained woman about prayer. She said, "Dr. Campolo, I object to the way you pray. Your language is too familiar and earthy." Tony replied, "Listen, lady, I wasn't talking to you."

In other words, mores are a problem when faith is inhibited by an obsession with the contemporary over the authentic.

Putting it another way, mores must be coupled with meaning for the message to be communicated.

But the biggest obstacle to pure prayer is me-me-me-auto-suggestion. Or as Bob Dylan sang, prayer has nothing to do with making God "an errand boy for our wandering desires."

Specifically, pure prayer focuses on discerning God's will for our lives as opposed to imposing our wills on him. Pure prayer is less I than Thou. It's the difference between an egocentric and theocentric perspective.

The perfect pattern of theocentric prayer occurred in the Garden of Gethsemane with Jesus praying, "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want" (see Matthew 26:36ff).

I'll never forget my secondborn son's explanation of the Sacrament of Holy Communion. David wanted to receive the sacrament. But I thought he was too young to understand its meaning. So I asked him what happens during Holy Communion. David said, "Jesus comes into my heart."

I've graded denominational ordination exams and haven't heard anything better!

And that's what pure prayer is all about. It's about inviting Jesus into our hearts and listening to and learning from and communicating with him.

I think that's a big part of what Paul meant by rejoicing in the Lord (see Philippians 4:4-9). Joy in the Lord can only be experienced after he occupies the center of our hearts, souls, minds, and bodies. When Thou replaces I, the relationship deepens.

That doesn't mean every day is a hot fudge sundae.

Alexa DeLuca, a younger member of Center, reminded me of that not too long ago. She wrote me a note:

Dear Bob Kopp,

Thank you for giving me the chocolate cigars. I'm glad you're my pastor.
-- From Alexa


The note was written on the right hand corner of a page which had been taken out of a coloring book which showed Moses looking toward the promised land. The caption reads, "Moses did not live long enough to go into the promised land, but God showed it to him from Mount Nebo."

I don't know if Alexa was sending me a message, but I do know submitting to God's will for our lives isn't always a lot of fun at first.

While in Gethsemane, Jesus probably didn't feel like saying, "Cheer up! It's all for the best!" No, he had prayed for the cup to pass. It did not! It did not because it was God's will to use the cross as the sealing symbol of his amazing grace.

The bad news of the cross came first for Jesus. The empty tomb came later.

And that's how it often works -- the bad news preceding the good news. Using the scene in Gethsemane as an example of ultimate victory through faith, George A. Buttrick commented, "The prayer began in agony, but ended in a calm strength which not even Calvary could break" (Prayer, 1952).

Jesus put it this way:

Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.
-- Matthew 7:7-9


That's why Paul urged, "Let our requests be made known to God" (Philippians 4:6).

When God's will for our lives is our highest goal and greatest ambition, our prayer is pure.

When I is replaced by You, our prayer is pure.

When happiness and holiness take wings like a sandpiper of joy in our lives, our prayer is pure.

Pure prayer is heavenly: "Whatever is honorable... just... pure... pleasing...
commendable ... worthy of praise ... think about these things ... and the God of peace will be with you" (Philippians 4:8-9).

Sometimes it's experienced in church or in the classroom or on the beach.

But it always starts with a wanting-to-be-pure heart.