Prayer as Waiting

I hate to wait. So when I begin a newsletter column on prayer as waiting, it is not a topic I am fond of. At the same time, I am struggling to become a more patient person and am convinced that this begins with prayer. So what exactly do I mean by prayer as waiting?

My first thought when it comes to waiting is standing in line for a roller coaster at an amusement park or for concert tickets to an artist I really want to see. But I’m not sure this captures prayer as waiting, because in these examples the waiting is simply the thing we do to pass the time before the main event. The real thing is in the future; the waiting is just the prelude.

But there are many other types of waiting. Consider the nine months of waiting that precede the birth of a child. These are filled with anticipation, preparation, activity, and, of course, hope. Consider waiting for an adult child coming home from college or military deployment overseas. The waiting is filled with nervousness, but is also precious, even holy.

In the Gospel of Luke,* we find two times of waiting that invite us to consider how prayer can be a time of active waiting. The first time of waiting is waiting for God. It is captured in the first several chapters of Luke as Mary waits for the birth of Jesus, as she waits for God to be born in her and through her. The second time of waiting is the waiting of God. It is captured in the last two chapters, as Christ sleeps the sleep of death. This waiting, the waiting of God, invites us to consider God’s first act of rest on the seventh day of creation and the act of waiting, Christ in the tomb, that preceded the day of Resurrection, the first day of the new creation.

Prayer is both of these kinds of waiting: Prayer is waiting for God, in hopeful anticipation of what God promises to do. Prayer is also the waiting of God, who is patient and longsuffering with us.

Almighty God, Your ways are not our ways, nor are Your thoughts our thoughts. Give us patience and perseverance, that all of our waiting may be done in hopeful anticipation of what You are doing within us and among us through Your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. In His name we pray. Amen.

*These insights are from the late Henri Nouwen’s lectures, The Spirituality of Waiting: Being Alert to God’s Presence in Our Lives, which I would highly recommend.
.

Leaves for the Table

We watch our neighbors' children a few days a week during the school year. It is a wonderful arrangement. My wife and I have always joked that when people come to visit, it is just the kick in the pants we need to clean the house. Yesterday evening, the basement got a thorough cleaning for the first time in weeks.

As we were preparing the house of their arrival as our guests this week, I thought to myself, "We'll have to add the leaves in the table." Our dining room table, a gift from my late grandparents, is large without the leaves; when the leaves are added, the table almost doubles in size.

The leaves, for me, became a metaphor for the hospitality we are called to offer to all people, in the name of Jesus. This simple act of literally widening our table, called me to re-examine how I offer hospitality to all guests in our home.

What are your "leaves"? How do you offer hospitality in your home and in your life? How is Jesus calling you to "add leaves"?

The Burden of Preaching

My spiritual father, also a preacher, is quick to remind me that we preachers do not have to preach... we get to preach. I believe he is true. At a preaching conference two summers ago, Rob Bell spoke of the preacher's dilemma as the difference between "having something to say" and "having to say something." In between these two reflections is the glorious burden of preaching.

I choose the word "glorious" because the Word that we bear is the greatest treasure the world can ever know. The Psalms speak over and over of the delight of the Lord's commandments (Psalm 19:10) and how the Word of God is a lamp and a light to guide us (Psalm 119:103).

And yet preaching is also a burden. Not in the "have to" sense, but in sense that it is an immense weight to bear. It resembles for me the task of moving a huge rock from one place to another. This is heavy stuff, moving this glorious and heavy treasure into the hearts and minds and bodies of God's people.

The Hebrew phrase kavod Adonai (the glory of the Lord) brings these two concepts together. In Hebrew, the glory of God is also something heavy, weighty, substantial. So it is with preaching.