"911" Prayers

Text:  Psalm 130

Theme:  “’911’ Prayers”

11^th Sunday after Pentecost

August 9, 2015

FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

Denton, Texas

Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

+In the Name of Jesus+

A song of ascents.

1

Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord;

2

Lord, hear my voice.

Let your ears be attentive

to my cry for mercy.

3

If you, Lord, kept a record of sins,

Lord, who could stand?

4

But with you there is forgiveness,

so that we can, with reverence, serve you.

5

I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,

and in his word I put my hope.

6

I wait for the Lord

more than watchmen wait for the morning,

more than watchmen wait for the morning.

7

Israel, put your hope in the Lord,

for with the Lord is unfailing love

and with him is full redemption.

8

He himself will redeem Israel

from all their sins.

It is a “Psalm of Ascents”.  “Ascent” has something of an upward movement to it – as in, “We’re going up.”  Where are we going up – or ascending – to?  Eugene Peterson reminds us that a “Psalm of Ascents” is travel song.  Highest point to go for a child of God at the time when this psalm was penned was likely Jerusalem and the temple.  Thus, they sang the psalm as they traveled along to the big city, the city of peace. 

There’s not much ascending going on and you’re certainly not in peace when you’re caught where the psalmist is, however.  “Out of the depths I cry to You, O Lord.”  He or she is down there somewhere stuck in it – mired in the depths.  Every indication is that he/she wants out; he/she wants to ascend out of the mess he/she is in.

Then and now, “out of the depths” is where many prayers originate. Such entreaties to the almighty, as we have in Psalm 130, are the ancient equivalent of what many, nowadays, call a “911” prayer.  911 is the number you dial if there is some sort of emergency.  

I remember receiving a plaque as a confirmation gift way back in 1975.  A friend of mine from school gave it to me, and it read:  “When All Else Fails, Try A Prayer.”  Surely, we all need a little encouragement when it comes to our prayer lives, but since when did prayer become a last resort when “all else fails”?  It was a nice sentiment, but it contained bad theology.

There is an old saying that goes like this:  “There are no atheists in foxholes.”  A foxhole is where you go when the enemy is shooting at you in a war.  The phrase seems to suggest that even atheists, confronted with a life or death situation, can tap a kind of primal God consciousness. A foxhole prayer is another name for a 911 prayer.

Most of the 911 prayers I’ve seen are in hospital chapels.  Many of them have a prayer register.  Patients and family members come in to say a prayer or two, and, if they wish, they write down who and what they are praying for. Invariably, there is a health crisis of some sort.  The thoughts in the prayer book run the gamut of human emotion.  There is joy and anger, denial and acceptance, and no small amount of bargaining – as in, “God, if you get me out of this jam, I’ll change my life” (or words to that effect). 

I’m called upon to do a lot of public praying.  It may be of some surprise to you that I’ve never been comfortable doing it – although I know it comes with the job.  I guess I’m more of a “Sermon on the Mount”-type prayer person.  Our Lord talked about going into a closet and praying in secret.  I’m much more comfortable doing that than leading that part of worship we call “Prayers of the People.”  If people ask me to offer a prayer, I’ll more than likely do it.  I just don’t OFFER to do it.  I’ve noticed a tendency over my years of public ministry where prayer has all but become a means of grace.  Prayer may be a response to the means of grace, but it’s not, by itself, a means of grace.  The gospel, Baptism, and the Lord’s Supper are the means of grace – and not prayer.  In addition, people these days talk about “praying over” someone, some thing, or some situation.  I’m half tempted to ask you to “pray over” my left shoulder today because it hurts.  MRI revealed two significant rotator cuff muscle tears, and I don’t know yet what the treatment will be.  Where this concept of “praying over” came from, I don’t know.  Apparently, I still have a lot to learn – and that’s fine.

I guess I’m okay with prayer vigils, for a vigil implies waiting.  We have one here on Easter Eve.  Vigils are often held when a tragedy occurs.  Most important, the psalmist – in our very text for today – encourages waiting.  So, thumbs up for prayer vigils.  Prayer “breakfasts” and national days of prayer and so forth I’m not so sure about.  I’m not discouraging your participation in them, but the ones I’ve attended often had some axe to grind.  The more I know about prayer, the more, I guess, I don’t know.  I hope I don’t sound snooty, but I have to admit I get a bit of spiritual indigestion when I hear a public prayer that sounds, well, a bit too chatty.  I call them “We Just Wanna” prayers – as in “Jesus, we just wanna thank you” or “Father God, we just wanna worship you and praise you.”  On it goes with the “We Just Wanna”!  You get the idea.  The “We Just Wanna” prayers are, no doubt, conversational.  But I think one can be forgiven for thinking that they lack a bit in reverence.  Again, I don’t know; that’s just me.  Some churches have prayer chains and prayer warriors that are called upon in those 911 moments of life.  That’s okay – as long as they don’t become gossipy.  But again, I don’t know; I’ve got so much more to learn about prayer, about how you pray, about how I pray.

What I do know, what I have learned up to this point is that people pray “out of the depths” – just like the psalmist of Psalm 130.   They may be 911 prayers, but they are prayers.   We’ve all been there – in a jam.  It’s the human predicament, from time to time, in this fallen world.  Perhaps we’re in the depths this morning. Juliette McClendon is; she’s been there before.  John Langford is; he’s been there before.  “God, are you there?  Are you listening?  Do you know I’m around?  Do you have a handle on what’s happening here?  Lord, I need some tailor-made mercy.”

Here’s another thing that I know because I have learned it:  people don’t get the hang of prayer instantly or by osmosis.  We are not born with a prayer on our lips.  Prayer must be taught.  The first prayers I consciously remember being taught (by my father at bedtime) was “Now I lay me down to sleep; I pray, the Lord, my soul to keep.”

The great commission of Jesus Christ tells us that a disciple is made when two things happen:  there is baptism and there is teaching.  “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations –baptizing them in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you.”

Most definitely, part of what Jesus taught involved prayer.  He lived prayer; He taught prayer. And He lived and taught it both publicly and privately.  One of the greatest moments in the lives of His disciples, all those years ago, was when they came to Him with a request:  “Lord, teach us to pray.”  He then proceeded to give them the prayer we’ve come to know as “The Lord’s Prayer” or the “Our Father”. 

In addition, I’ve learned that prayer has certain times attached to it. For instance, the canonical prayer hours had their origin in the psalms. The entire biblical record and the life of Jesus teach that prayer in the morning, upon rising, is appropriate.  Prayer in the evening, upon lying down to sleep is also appropriate.  Then there is the matter of “Asking the Blessing” and “Returning Thanks” over your meals, your daily bread. 

There are times, I’ve learned, when I don’t know what to say in prayer.  That’s when written prayers come in handy.  One favorite of mine is Niebuhr’s “Serenity Prayer” (Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.)  Then there’s the famous Prayer of St. Francis which our choir anthem is based on today:  “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.”

Finally, another lesson I learned about prayer came from the pen of Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  He wrote a short book entitled Psalms:  The Prayer Book of the Bible.  In it, he wrote: 

If we want to read and to pray the prayers of the Bible and especially the Psalms, therefore, we must not ask first what they have to do with us, but what they have to do with Jesus Christ. We must ask how we can understand the Psalms as God’s Word, and then we shall be able to pray them. It does not depend, therefore, on whether the Psalms express adequately that which we feel at a given moment in our heart. If we are to pray aright, perhaps it is quite necessary that we pray contrary to our own heart. Not what we want to pray is important, but what God wants us to pray. If we were dependent entirely on ourselves, we would probably pray only the fourth petition of the Lord’s Prayer. But God wants it otherwise. The richness of the Word of God ought to determine our prayer, not the poverty of our heart.

The last line is worth repeating:  “The richness of the Word of God ought to determine our prayer, not the poverty of our heart.”  There is a difference between a prayer which begins with “Father God, WE just wanna…” and one that begins with “Dear Lord, You have said… .”  Prayer that is indestructible, prayer that gets it right because it gets it Jesus right, is that prayer which says back to God what God has said to us.  God says:  “I am the Lord your God.”  The church says, in reply:  “You are the Lord our God.”

I conclude by returning to Psalm 130, our text.  The psalmist prays:  “If you, Lord, kept a record of sins, Lord, who could stand?”  Allow me a paraphrase:  “God, if you’re still reading the little back book of my sins, I’ll never get out of the depths I’m in.” 

But with you there is forgiveness,

so that we can, with reverence, serve you.

There certainly is forgiveness with the Lord.  Lord Jesus took your little black book of sins and made it His own.  “He who knew no sin was made sin for us.”  It is the great exchange:  our sin He takes, and He gives back in its place His forgiveness.  It was won at Calvary and at Easter’s empty tomb. 

This is the Lord, in the language of the psalm, whom we cry to, pray to, wait for, put our hope in, receive our forgiveness from, and serve.  Amen.

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love;

Where there is injury, pardon;

Where there is doubt, faith;

Where there is despair, hope;

Where there is darkness, light;

Where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek

To be consoled as to console,

To be understood as to understand,

To be loved as to love;

For it is in giving that we receive;

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;

It is in dying to self that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.