The Lord's Prayer

 

What is prayer?

At the lowest level, prayer can be a mere shopping list of requests to God. A conversation with God dominated by desires for all the things we don’t have and yet desperately think we need. A bit like a child at the window of the toy shop; no longer aware of the huge collection of toys at home he can only stare in dire longing for those toys he does not have.  

When work challenges, testing relationships, or daily difficulties arise our shopping list becomes pruned.  It becomes focused on these priorities of life without which we feel our happiness is threatened.

When disaster strikes, loss of health, or loved ones, our agony makes our prayers into cries from the heart to God. Urgent calls for aid against impossible odds. When we can find no way forward or no hope, then our prayer becomes a desperate plea for assistance.

Of course, it can be hard to know to whom we pray when our understanding of God is so very limited.  Sometimes we have only vague thoughts of one greater than anything that we can mentally encompass.  That is why using prayers from those who have gained true closeness to God or His chosen Ones can be so helpful. Not only do their words and aspirations tend to remind us of what is worth asking for but they also have a greater understanding of God.

For example, the Lord’s prayer

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; 

begins by reminding us that God resides in the spiritual world, heaven, that He is our father and that we should revere His name.

thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. 

This is followed by the promise that His kingdom will be established on earth in the same way it is in the spiritual realms.  The words indicate that this present civilisation will become more divine in nature. Humanity will acquire spiritual qualities and virtues and civilisation will be transformed from this present turbulent adolescent stage into a more spiritually enlightened state.

After reminding us of who we are talking to, reassuring us of the future direction or vision of mankind there follows three pleas. 

Give us this day our daily bread; 

The first is that we be provided with the basic material necessities of life to survive.

and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; 

The second asks God to pardon our sins or transgressions. Those deeds, words, and thoughts which deprive us of our spiritual progress.  Interestingly, the prayer links our forgiveness from God with the degree to which we forgive those who have done us wrong or sinned against us.

and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. 

The third plea, following on from repenting from all that we have done wrong in the past and present, asks for protection from future failings, sins, or transgressions.  It ends with a cry that we will be freed from evil and all that takes us further from God’s will.

Amen.

So many spiritual writings and devotionals end with Amen, like the Lord’s Prayer, so it is worth remembering its meaning.  

The basic meaning of the Semitic root from which it is derived is “firm,” “fixed,” or “sure,” and the related Hebrew verb also means “to be reliable” and “to be trusted.” The Greek Old Testament usually translates amen as “so be it”; in the English Bible it has frequently been rendered as “verily,” or “truly.”

Prayer, we learn is both an inner reflection; to be grateful for the blessings each day brings, awareness of what wrongs we have committed, how important it is to forgive others and brings to mind a concern for our future actions and failings, as well as an external call; a recognition of the station of the Divine, obedience to His Will and recognition that obedience to God’s will befits us all both in this world and the next.  It reminds us of a higher standard to which we are all called to attain and its vision of the future helps fuel our endeavours to build a better world.

Dear David

A good heart,

kindness embossed throughout,

Expressed in word and deed.

He stood upright, tall and regal.

With a mind clear and agile.

An excellent honest Inspector of police.

He proved himself as one of integrity

in the difficult days of The Troubles

when shifting sands caused better men to stumble.

Perhaps his stability came from his warm faith

working as a Gideon to provide all he could

with what was his mandate - the Bible.

His unusual quiet humility was accompanied

by a deep devotion to his wife.

He met her as a young constable on his bike.

Entering the village shop he heard the bell above the door

and then he saw her!

It was love at first sight.

Instant, total and devoted.

Not some fleeting fancy

but a love that grew over many decades

into over a half-century like a mighty oak.

As once we walked past a neighbour’s home

eighty-year-old David shivered in sympathy.

The owner was recently widowed

David said the thought of him ever losing his own wife

made his heart ache in horror.

But the years brought dementia to his door.

It was hard to see words take flight from his mind.

That agile, fluid, articulate mind began to stumble.

Making a sentence an impossible hurdle.

When he fell down his staircase

and was left with huge black bruises on his chest

he struggled to explain what had happened.

But in trying to express his gratitude

in surviving the bad fall

he raised a finger pointing above

and managed to convey his gratitude

to the "Big Guy" upstairs.

He had three loves.

His wife his Faith and his music.

Long after conversation stopped completely

he could sing the old songs of Ireland

in a beautiful tone that stirred the spirits.

Then that too stopped

and there was nothing

that was not taken from him. 

I will not dwell on this final bereft phase.

Who knows why tests rain down on mighty souls?

Is it perhaps our test not theirs?

Who knows?

But this week he threw off this fleeting shadow of a world.

I like to think of him striding out on sunlight fields.

Full of his old vigour of mind

surrounded by all his great loves.

I am grateful for the fragrance of his existence

that lingers in my mind

the citrus tone that ever cleanses the senses.

Building muscle memory in your heart

Grief is a process as unique as each individual who loses someone. There will always be a need for patience. It takes time to assimilate death. The loss is too final, too immense. The emotions are like powerful waves that must be weathered.  Don't rely on outward appearances. People swallow down loss in a variety of ways. It can be those who feel that the most, show it less. Often those with the most regrets and guilt are the ones throwing themselves into the grave whereas the quietness of a long time carer can mask an ocean of heart stopping grief. Don't tell them stuff like “it's for the best”, “he had his day”, “You couldn't have done more”, “I am shocked by what happened”. We either turn to verbal diarrhoea at such times or find it impossible to say anything and avoid the bereaved like lepers from an alien zone.  Find a better and more moderate path.

When Mandela was in prison and received the shocking news that his son had been killed in a car accident, he lay on his back in his prison bunk felled by the news. His close friend came and sat beside the bed, saying nothing but holding his hand through the long dark hours. Knowing that nothing can be done to fix what has happened, one realises words will not suffice. Where there is love you must offer your presence and find ways to let that love show. In the most barren and stark conditions that seed of love must be sown and shown. Expect anger, pain and blame. Weather the storm. Those emotions are better out than in. Bare your share in respect to those who have lost so much and in honour of those who have passed on. Such tests assail the very soul. Find whatever nobility you can muster to hold the breech between what the bereaved cannot bear and what they must. Give yourself time to master such skills. Summoning the courage to step up when every part of you wants to run is vital. Whatever strength you find will build muscle memory in your own heart. Don't avoid it. Death comes to us all. Prepare yourself to be worthy of a good death. Both your own and those you lose along the way. 

PS I like this poem, below, by Maya Angelou on the topic.

When I Think Of Death

When I think of death, and of late the idea has come with alarming frequency, I seem at peace with the idea that a day will dawn when I will no longer be among those living in this valley of strange humors.
I can accept the idea of my own demise, but I am unable to accept the death of anyone else.
I find it impossible to let a friend or relative go into that country of no return.
Disbelief becomes my close companion, and anger follows in its wake.
I answer the heroic question 'Death, where is thy sting? ' with ' it is here in my heart and mind and memories.'

Desperation, perspiration, information and inspiration,

Exams are tortuous.  We have all been there, paper before us, the clock ticking.  The terrifying sound of others asking for more writing paper, while you stare mesmerised by your single blank sheet. There are the rare few of us who, from this dire situation, conjure up magic.  To those that pull that off, I salute you.  For example, the high school student who when asked to write a concise expressive essay on stubbornness, put pen to paper and wrote,
"No!"
But there are the even more creative that aught to be remembered.  This student was really putting his back into solving this equation and then at a certain point found an expressive way to sum up his despair.  Just love that little man hanging on the last integral sign.

Of course, the artists among us have a real opportunity to vent their frustration eloquently.  After all, they have the three basic necessities, a paper, pencil and hours of time!  Here's one who obviously decided this subject was not for him.

Then, there are those who use quirky dry humour to answer what defeats them otherwise, as Peter so brilliantly accomplished here.

I just have to admire their tenacity and application, instead of putting their head down in despair, from somewhere within a revolt occurred.  In the scariest of all places they found an answer.  Mind you, I cannot believe this student actually got an A+ for the following response!

Just occasionally, in this education system that is so questionable, sausage factory filling and exam driven, a question can elicit a response that makes the whole dire business worthwhile.  Here, was a student determined to fight back!

Finally, exams are a metaphor for life in many ways.  Our response to them both usually requires the same attitude.  This last one summarises it all nicely.  So, if you too are facing tests remember this useful guidance.