Sermon Series: The Stories That Shape Us – August 17, 2014

Sermon Series: The Stories That Shape Us – August 17, 2014

August 17, 2014        Luther Memorial Church, Seattle, WA

Sermon Series:

The Stories That Shape Us:  Do We Really Get What We Pray For? 

The Rev. Julie G. Hutson 

Psalm 67            1 Chronicles 4: 9-10

          May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer.  Amen.

As we continue our sermon series this summer, today’s text is one that is perhaps not as well known as others.  These two verses that make up the text for today are found in an obscure section of First Chronicles that lays out the geneology of Judah.

What we learn in these verses about Jabez is all that is ever written about him in Scripture.  We know nothing else about him.  But here are the four things that we do know:

* We know that he was the favorite son of all of his brothers.

* We know that his mother named him Jabez because the name itself means “pain” or “sorrow” and her pain in giving birth to him was great.

* We know that he prayed specifically for God’s blessing, for more land, for God’s presence, and that he would be kept safe from hurt and harm.  *And finally, we know that what he had asked for in his prayer had come to pass in his life.

So what are we to make of the story of this man whose entire life is encapsulated in two verses tucked into the middle of the Hebrew Scriptures?

The key to answering that question is found in his prayer.  This man whose name means pain or sorrow prays that he might rise above his name.  That in his lifetime he would not experience pain or sorrow, but rather would experience blessing and safety.

Now, this is a tricky thing….a slippery slope.  Because we all know people, or perhaps we are those people, who have prayed for safety or blessing or more possessions, which was a specific prayer of Jabez, and God’s answer to our prayer seemed to be….no.

Several years ago, a book was written about this prayer and an entire way of thinking sprang up in light of that book.  The book is called The Prayer of Jabez and to quote the website:  Are you ready to reach for the extraordinary? To ask God for the abundant blessings He longs to give you? Join Dr Bruce Wilkinson to discover how the remarkable prayer of a little-known Bible hero can release God’s favor, power and protection. You’ll see how one daily prayer can help you leave the past behind – and break through to the life you were meant to live. Now an all-time best-seller. by Dr. Bruce Wilkinson.

So if all we have to do to receive the abundant blessings God longs to give us is pray for them….what about those times that our prayers seem to go unheard?  Dr. Wilkinson and I  differ in our views of God; as I’ve said before, I don’t believe in a chess playing God….sitting up on some fluffy cloud with a chess board, saying “I believe it’s time to grant Jabez all that he’s praying for, but I’m going to withhold the same from Julie.”   Make no mistake, God does desire that all of God’s children have a life of abundant blessing.  But we live in a broken world as broken people and hard things happen.  Often, very difficult things happen.  And sometimes horrible things happen.  There is no prayer of any sort that will “release God’s favor, power, and protection.”  If there were, wouldn’t we all be praying it right now?

If it were simply a matter of praying to God for God’s blessing, for an increase in good fortune,  this would be the time we would want to get busy doing that.  We would pray for peace, first and foremost….peace in the very place called the Holy Land.  A lasting peace would be best, but today we might even settle for a brief peace….long enough to look at one another squarely in the eyes and listen to one another’s story.  Longfellow wrote that “if we could read the secret history of our enemies, we should find in each person’s life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.”  But these days we cannot even manage to stop to listen at all.  To know the other.   So, if we could pray for peace in the Holy Land, wouldn’t that be the desire of God’s heart and wouldn’t God grant it?

And what of the children coming into this country because they are not safe in their own?  Could we not pray for the drug lords who terrorize them to turn from their wicked ways?  Surely this too is the desire of God’s heart.  Why wouldn’t God grant it?

And oh sisters and brothers – what of the racial divide that continues to tear at the fabric of our country?  We imagine that we have made so much progress since Brother Martin marched through Alabama and those little girls in Birmingham were bombed in Sunday School and Rosa decided to sit in the front of the bus.  But here we are again and the Church, especially the historically white church, cannot be silent.   But if solving this crisis of character in our country were as easy as praying this prayer….wouldn’t we do it?  Wouldn’t loving our neighbors as ourselves, the greatest commandment, be the desire of God’s heart too?

What’s the point of praying at all if the chess playing God isn’t going to move the pieces as we ask?  Why do we offer our specific prayers during worship?  Why do we pray for our loved ones as they travel?  Why do we pray for patience or peace?  Why even bother?

If God’s desire for us is abundant blessing, how do we pray in the midst of such brokenness?

To answer that, I have to use an example.  I want you to find in your mind and heart’s eye the person in your life who loves you the most of all – unconditionally and deeply.  It might be a parent or a grandparent or a partner or a child or a friend.  And now I want you to imagine sitting down with them to talk and be together.  What would be the first thing you might say to them?  Perhaps it would be a word of gratitude for their presence in your life or thanksgiving for your time together.  Maybe you would share the concerns in your life or chat about what’s on your mind.  What you would likely NOT do is begin your conversation with a list of things you hope that person would give to you or do for you.  But even if you did, it might not be possible or even in your best interest as a person for them to give you those things.  There may be lessons you must learn on your own, things only you can do or fix.

This metaphor for prayer to the God who loves us more than we can begin to imagine breaks down at some point – our loved ones on this earth are not omnipotent – they cannot accomplish all things or any thing we ask.

But the point of the exercise remains valid.  Our prayers must contain more than our wish lists in order to maintain a relationship with the God who numbers even the hairs on our heads.

The writer of Chronicles tells us about Jabez in only 2 verses.  We don’t know anything more of him.  But I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that if he was so determined not to live up to his namesake of sorrow and pain that this was his deep prayer, he probably got out there and lived a life that reflected that determination.  I don’t think he just sat down and said, passively, “Ok, God.  Work your magic.”

And neither can we.  To live in the Kingdom our prayers are going to need feet and hands and bold words.  We are going to need to insist that this madness in our country end.  This killing because of color must stop.  Now.  And we are going to have to say that those children coming to this country are welcome in the name of Christ and in the name of what we claim to be as a nation.  We are going to have to look each other squarely in the eye…friend and foe…left and right….white and black…gay and straight….rich and poor….and we are going to have to say what scares us.  What has driven us to such measures of distrust and violence.  And then we must apologize.  And step out in love.

Jabez might have prayed for plenty, and if that’s what he needed, so be it.   But the pain and suffering in our land and in our world calls for our prayers AND it calls for our faithful, active response.   May our prayers and our lives cry out for peace, for justice, and for forgiveness.  Amen.