by the Rev. George Glazier

A sermon on prayer – what could be more predictable, what could be more dull? But there it is, the topic is staring right at us from the pages of scripture this morning. God appears to Solomon in a dream and what Solomon prays for, his petition, is not for more money, more power or long life but for a wise and discerning heart. God grants his request and also gives him the things he did not ask for – more wealth, more power and a long life. That was some effective prayer.

In Paul’s letter to the Romans, he speaks about our inability to pray. We groan, we sigh but we cannot articulate what we truly want to say to God. And yet the Holy Spirit knows even the thoughts we cannot put into words and gathers them up and presents them to God. In prayer, the Spirit is our helper, bringing to fruition and completion what we can only imperfectly start.

A sermon on prayer – what could be more predictable? But I think I can remedy that. Today I don’t want to talk about prayer in a fashion that will inspire you but I want to remind you of part of the reality of prayer that is uninspiring, in fact, downright dull. Prayer is often dull? And that is not just my idea. Many of the greatest Christian teachers through the centuries – monks, nuns, bishops and theologians – have said the same thing.

Prayer is often dull work.

Martin Thornton in his book, “Christian Proficiency,” compares prayer to cleaning a car. He says if you are lucky enough to have a new car, then washing and polishing it is rather like a wonderful devotional task. But when the novelty of it wears off, washing and polishing becomes a nuisance and a bore, but you can still clean it efficiently if you choose to. Whether new or old, the result is still the same. Prayer when it is new, or received some newness from our experience, is a devotional activity. As time wears on, it becomes work and often is downright boring.

One scholar of church liturgy, Paul Bradshaw, having listened to people wax eloquently about how they wished more people would attend the Daily Offices in the Church of England – Morning and Evening Prayer – wrote that “the ritual structure of the Daily Office is boring and always has been.” There is scripture read, canticles sung (probably the most rousing part) and prayers said. It isn’t very exciting. It never has been. What Bradshaw reminds us of is that is was never meant to be. The Daily Office, daily prayer itself is more discipline than it is worship.

By discipline I do not meant punishment but rather two of the other meanings of the word. Daily prayer is a rule, a habit, a way of going about a task. Daily prayer is also a kind of training that corrects, molds and perfects the mental faculties and moral character. Daily prayer is more discipline than worship.

I don’t know about you but I have never been a fan of discipline. When I played football, basketball and baseball I never loved the drills we used to do. I absolutely hated running laps. When I took a language I was always impatient learning the rules and tenses and longed to be able to speak it fluently in clear sentences. It is not by accident that I did not last very long on the football, basketball and baseball teams and never really mastered any language. I hated to practice, to train. I hated the discipline.

Jesus, though, provides discipline for his disciples. The very word disciple means one who accepts the discipline of a master. It is interesting that there is no record of Jesus teaching his disciples how to preach, how to teach, or how to heal. Yet he sends them out to do all these things. All he seems to care about in terms of teaching is to teach them how to pray. Our Father in heaven, etc. Prayer seems to be the only grounding they will need to preach, teach and heal in God’s kingdom. And prayer is going to be part of their discipline, part of their training. It is not for the most part exciting, or even inspiring. It is simply necessary.

In today’s gospel, Jesus paints several pictures of what the kingdom of God is like and how we can find it or enter it. Hiding behind those pictures is a lot of dull and boring work. The farmer sows the mustard seed. That means he tills the field, plants the seed, waters it and watches after it. The woman making bread mixes in the yeast by hand, pounding and rolling till she is hot and sweaty. The treasure in the field is dug up by hand and buried again by hand, then the man who finds it has to spend all he has to buy the field. The merchant looking for fine pearls has spent probably half a lifetime till he finds the perfect pearl. The fishermen get up early in the morning, and work on a boat, smelling dead fish daily and having their faces beaten by the sun and wind, to catch their large haul of fish. Behind these parables of the kingdom there are people involved in what is most often dull and boring work. The life of prayer is no different.

By telling you that prayer is mostly discipline, mostly dull and boring routine – work – perhaps I have discouraged you. I hope not. Because prayer is important and necessary work for being a Christian. Christian life and Christian prayer are inseparable. Yet looking for daily prayer to be exciting, a thrill-a-minute is setting yourself up for failure. Daily prayer is training. It is practice and it prepares you to live and act as a Christian in the world. During the summer, one of the reasons we include Daily Morning Prayer as the Service of the Word is to remind us that this service and its sister, Daily Evening Prayer, have been the way the Anglican church has sought to ritualize daily prayer. You can use it just as effectively at home as you can here in church. Its structure will support you through the discipline of daily prayer. Try it. If this doesn’t work, try something else.
Michael Ramsey the former Archbishop of Canterbury wrote a short book entitled “Be Still and Know: A Study in the Life of Prayer.” In it he quotes St. Augustine:
    We shall rest and we shall see,
        We shall see and we shall love,
            We shall love and we shall praise,
                To the end which is no end.

He compares this to the life of prayer. Resting from our busy lives and taking time to pray, this is how we begin the conversation with God. Resting then allows us to see differently, see our neighbors as they truly are – children of God, ourselves as God’s small creatures, God as beauty and grace. Seeing then we love and become like God. Praising God is the last word for with it we have entered into a state of gratitude that is not our achievement but God’s grace.

If prayer leads us to rest, new sight, love and a life of thanksgiving then it well worth the discipline.

The Rev. George Glazier is Rector of Grace Church, Chattanooga.