Sunday, March 23, 2008

Dangerous Prayers

Back when I was in college, I use to pray dangerously.  "O God, show me what you want me to do.  You are my Lord.  I'll be single or married, have children or not, have a successful career or rot in a prison starving to death..."  And I meant it.  After all, God made me.  Who knew better than he what this clay pot was formed to do?  

Last year my husband was a part-time Local Pastor at a church with about 30 members.  We lived in a parsonage built in the 1860's, with a foundation that made me nervous.  There was crumbling lead paint on the upstairs walls, there was no counter space in the (orange) kitchen, and no matter how hard I scrubbed the bathroom (with a door that did not close) had a perpetually dirty feel to it.  Then my husband went for his commissioning interviews, passed, and we awaited that glorious day when he would be sent to a full time appointment.  And my prayers went like this:  "O God, please send us to a big church with lots of children for my daughter to pay with.  Let the parsonage have new paint, new carpet, new bathrooms, new furniture, and lots of counter space in the kitchen.  Let us be in the suburbs - I think I'd be more comfortable there and I don't want to live anywhere too dangerous for my daughter's sake."  And what do you know, no kidding, my husband was made an associate at a big church with lots of children, a parsonage with new paint, new carpet, new bathrooms, new furniture, and lots of kitchen counter space.  We are in the suburbs in one of the safest parts of the US.  

Not too long ago I read 2 Corinthians 2:17, "For we are not like many, peddling the word of God..."  I think of myself as "from sincerity" (as the verse continues), not as someone who would ever dare to do such a vile thing as use the gospel for personal gain.  But as I remembered my prayers of last year, as I faced my fear of someday going to a church in a more "dangerous" location, with a less than "nice" parsonage, I wondered if in my heart have I become a peddler of God's word?  Ouch!

On Good Friday, people cast lots for the clothing of Jesus.  They were so concerned about not destroying a nice piece of cloth, but they missed what was happening in the death of that man.  Had I become like one of them?  But I'm a mother, and I'm concerned for my child.  Surely that is good and right!  John's gospel follows this scene with the story of Jesus providing for his mother.   As a woman, she was dependent upon the care of the men in her family.  And here was her firstborn son dying.  That Jesus felt the need to find someone to provide for her suggests to me that maybe she was really dependent upon him beyond what I thought.  But even from the cross, Jesus remembered her, Jesus loved her, and Jesus made sure she was taken care of.  I, too, have cast my lot, and thus the lot of my daughter, with Jesus and am very dependent upon him.  Dare I trust him?  O God, forgive me!

Today is Easter.   The old has gone.  A new day has come.  What will this daunting new world of resurrection be like?  One thing is for sure - the old categories are shattered.  It will not do to worry about the destructive powers in the world.  Such would be silliness.  And so, mustering all the courage I can find in me, I return to my "dangerous" prayers in a world turned upside down.  Thanks be to God.  




   

1 comment:

Stephanie said...

Thank you for your encouraging comment on our adoption blog today!