Charred Cross

I wrote yesterday about some of my thoughts when I read Chapter 3 of the book Becoming Jesus' Prayer. The chapter is about forgiveness.  The authors tell the story of Farmer's Chapel UMC in Iowa. The over 100-year-old church building was destroyed by an arsonist. You can image the anger the church felt towards this person. Even so, the pastor wrote an open letter to the arsonist that was published in the local paper. The letter invites the person to church. Not as an empty, let's act like we forgive people invitation, but with an invitation that shares how impossible, and yet how imperative forgiveness is.  You can read part of the letter at this link (scroll down a little on the page). The blog was (is?) written by an Assistant to the Bishop in Iowa.

The image on my page today is of the cross in the rebuilt Farmer's Chapel.  It is constructed from charred pieces of wood left after the fire.  The authors of Becoming Jesus' Prayer wrote, "Every Sunday morning now, the congregation worships with a visual reminder of the arsonist's act, but more that that every Sunday morning they worship with eh assurance that life come out of death, that hope emerges from desolation."

Do we find forgiveness too difficult to attempt? Or do we know how difficult it is, but accept God's help to do what for us is impossible alone?

Note: Forgive the resolution of the image - it's a screen shot of a video.

Light a Candle in Our Hearts

 

I'm still reading Becoming Jesus' Prayer. Chapter 3 is about forgiveness.  The authors write, "Forgiveness begins with an awareness of our shared humanity, a recognition of the tremendous capacity that we have to both destroy and bless one another....This honest self-appraisal can also enable us to see our need for interior cleaning....An African schoolgirl described this need for cleaning when she prayed: 'O Though great Chief, light a candle in my heart, that I may see what is therein and sweep the rubbish from they dwelling place.'"

Yesterday, before I read this today, I was thinking about how much we build resentment within ourselves when we judge other people. Maybe they are meeting our expectations, or maybe they are living their lives (or a part of their lives) in a way we would do so. Or maybe we make assumptions about their inner thoughts when they speak to us.

Think about the time when you thought, "He hated what I just said, and now he is angry with me."  We make assumptions about people's emotions or motivations, and we grow angry with them. I wonder if we are projecting our own thought on them; I'm certain we don't know what is going on in their lives. It's somewhat self-centered of us to assume their reactions or what we perceive of their reactions to be about us.

It seems as if changing this part of us - stopping our assumptions and judgments - we rid us of the need to forgive others at times.  If we just lit a candle in our hearts for some self-reflection.

Saying our Prayers

I'm reading a book called Becoming Jesus' Prayer: Transforming your Life Through the Lord's Prayer by Bishop Gregory V Palmer, Cindy M McCalmont and Brian K Milford.

The first line in Chapter 1 says, "'Saying one's prayers is not the same as praying.'"  This is a line from Anne of Green Gables, spoken by the title character.  I was struck by the line. It's true, isn't it?

I had a pastor once who would speed through the Lord's Prayer when he led the congregation in praying it.  We asked him in a meeting one time if he could slow down a little.  "I'm just praying it as I would pray it," he replied (or something close to that).  Unfortunately, we do sometimes pray the prayer without thinking about it.  We say the prayer without praying.

Truthfully, I resented the high speed of the prayer when he led us. I didn't want to pray it that fast. What I learned is that I could pray it without saying it, and just let the prayers of others wash over me, praying with them silently. It quieted my resentment while surrounding me in the prayers of others.  I recommend that you try it.

We do sometimes take a casual approach to prayer.  "I'll pray for you," is commonly heard, but when I say it, I don't always do it. I hope God hears our prayers even when we are not very good at praying them. I hope we hear God at least a little when we aren't very good at listening.