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Lenten Prayer

Matthew 26:36-46

March 30, 2003

Jesus Prays in Gethsemane

³⁶Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” ³⁷He took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be grieved and agitated. ³⁸Then he said to them, “I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and stay awake with me.” ³⁹And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want.” ⁴⁰Then he came to the disciples and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, “So, could you not stay awake with me one hour? ⁴¹Stay awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial;^£ the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” ⁴²Again he went away for the second time and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” ⁴³Again he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. ⁴⁴So leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time, saying the same words. ⁴⁵Then he came to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? See, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. ⁴⁶Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand.”

Lance Corporal John Q. Public, went with the squad he commanded to a place just outside Al Najaf, he said to his squad, "Sit here while I go over there and check in with the First Sergeant."  He took with him his fire support leader and the squad leader of one of the other squads.  Then he said to them, "Wait here and I'll see what our orders are."  He thought to himself, "I am deeply grieved, some of my men may die in the days to come."  He then prayed quickly to God in heaven, "If it is possible, let this cup pass from me," and went to get his orders.

Malek Hassan left his wife and sons in their home and went without them to the market around the corner from Abu Taleb Street.  He came to the shops on the street next to the one destroyed by the missile the previous day.  He spoke to his friend the shopkeeper, who had been there in the aftermath of the chaos the previous day, and said to him, "We have come to the time of trial."  He feared the death of his family members now as much as he had ever feared Saddam Hussein. 

Our world has come to a time of trial, suffering and destruction.  Clearly, Iraq has been faced with a time of trial ever since Saddam Hussein came to power.  First with his purging those who were against him in government, like Joseph Stalin did so many years before him in Russia.  Then it was the Iran-Iraq war.  Then it was the  attack on Kuwait and the American and international response.  And all throughout these events, was the ever-present brutality, the torture and suppressive violence that marked his regime.

Perhaps since September 11, 2001, our country has entered a dark and stormy time of trial, suffering and destruction, a time of worry and insecurity and anxiety.

But this past week, both for the Iraqi people and for the United States of America and Great Britain, war has deepened that darkness.  Suffering has grown more acute and destruction more manifest.

It is ironic that it has happened at a time in which we Christians commemorate the trial, passion, death and resurrection of Jesus. 

Hundreds of Iraqis have been killed, wounded or had their lives otherwise turned upside-down.  Scores of American and British marines, soldiers, air corpsman  and sailors too have been uprooted, sent to faraway lands, not only to serve, but to have their lives put in danger, each perhaps individually committed to save the lives and security of others.  Truly many have already given their lives and sacrificed their bodies to this end.

And it is thought that this is only the beginning.  A siege has been laid around the city of Baghdad.  The city of Basra and the towns of An-Nasiriyah, Al-Najaf, Al-Kut and many others are or will soon be sites of armed contention.  Loss of life, tragedy, trial, pain and suffering will be unavoidable for Iraqi men, women and children, and  American and British fighters and their families.  Certainly to a lesser degree, too the rest of our country and all the world suffer from a distance, through the anxiety, pain fear and discomfort of war. 

“My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want,"  Jesus said when on the verge of his days of tribulation.

What do we say?

There are many who say that this war is wrong.  That this war was conceived and brought to fruition by American politicians for economic, political and personal gain. 

To those some lift up the personage of Saddam Hussein as response. 

There are many who say that this war is wrong, because of the way it was begun, unilaterally, without widespread support abroad and in the United Nations.

To those again is lifted up the poster of Saddam Hussein and repeated history lessons of Neville Chamberlain and Adolph Hitler.  To those arguments are lifted the voices of some expatriated Iraqis who say "Go help them NOW!"

There are many who say this war is not only just, but moral and necessary to both protect the Iraqi people, the Middle East and nations of the world ravaged by terrorism

To answer them some Middle-Easterners Arabs and others say, "we did not want your war.   War, even to liberate that  nation from a tyrant, will be bad for the people of the Middle East and for all the world.  It will create more terrorists and plunge the world deeper into the depths of hateful anarchic violence."  Others complain about pre-emptive strikes and precedents set that will be difficult to enforce against.

To all this we add the heated emotions and strong convictions poured into even more well-researched and rehearsed arguments from all sides, and American flags and witty poster slogans waved at both rallies for peace and rallies for war. 

In this time of high emotions others will also add, the time for arguing is over, stop the protests and support your nation, support particularly the men and women in danger.  And with this I will agree.

I have heard so many say, "I can't watch it!" referring to the television, and the harsh, difficult realities of war and violence and pain now liberally displayed there.  There have been family wives of young marines on the television, describing the shock of being faced by a pair of marines in full dress uniforms, meeting them at the steps of their place of work, to tell them that their husband was killed the previous night.  We have seen their children, frolicking on the beautiful green grass of the family home, now faced with the loss of their beloved father.

There have been pictures of young women and men in captivity.  There have been pictures of Iraqi marketplaces decimated by stray missiles, whose intended targets were perhaps not so innocent.  We have seen the blood of innocent people on battered pavements and many have already said, "I can't bear it.  I can't watch it!"

Our country is coming into a time of trial, that may be headed off only by a quick liberation of Iraq and a hasty end to all hostilities in there.

“My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done,” said Jesus.  It is inevitable now.  We are on the road to a time of deep trial for us all.  The historic road upon which we have now embarked cannot be quitted.  Not until one might say, “It is finished.”[1]  

Between now and then how do we live?  What do we do in the midst of this tumultuous time?  Who do we trust?  To whom do we turn for answers?  How do we find assurance, hope and comfort in the dark night of trial and struggle? 

During this time of Lent, we have spoken about the nature of Christ's suffering.  We have spoken about this time as a time for Christ's passion, and a time for focusing on how Christ himself endured his suffering and faced his coming trials.  We have considered how that suffering touches the season and influences our Lenten practices.  We have spoken about what we might adopt as our disciplines of lent and beyond.

We have been speaking during Lent on the importance of Study, Repentance, Prayer and Outreach.

Study, brings us closer to Christ.

Repentance gives us clear and deep conviction over our own lives and roles in the world.  More profound than mere lip service, repentance and following Christ to and beyond the cross leads to passion for Christ and his own ministry.

This week and next, we think on prayer and outreach.

In our bulletins we find the words "Lenten Prayer" to guide our topic with a title this morning.  What is Lenten prayer?  How is it different than the prayer of everyday?

To begin to answer that, let me ask another question - What do you pray during the course of your regular prayer life?  How do you pray?  What do you confess?  What do you ask for?  How do you express your joys and thanksgiving before God?

All of this is part of Lenten Prayer.  And truly Lenten Prayer is also a part of what you do each and every time you turn to God.  But Lenten prayer is also different somehow…

Our best example of Lenten Prayer is what we see Jesus engaged in, on the Mount of Olives, in the Garden of Gethsemane.  Jesus hates what is to happen to him.  He does not want to see it come to fruition.  He knows that he must suffer and die.  He knows that his time of trial is coming.  He brings his supporters with him and falls on his knees in prayer. 

“My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want," he pleads.  “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done,” he prays.  He is grappling with the truth of his own suffering and the truth that what is coming is necessary and unavoidable.  Jesus wishes to be obedient, and strong and to master his fears and emotions, yet "the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak,” He confesses to Peter.

At the same time he is resigned to what must happen.  At the same time, he knows that once it is over, once "It is finished," that will not be the end, but that he, and his Father through him, will be victorious.[2]

Lenten prayer is laden heavily with the suffering of the one praying, bent low by the burdensome prospect of the trials facing the world in which the prayer is prayed.  Yet Lenten prayer is not overcome by that burden and suffering.  Although deeply connected to the sin and pain of the world, Lenten prayer is prayer that has hope in overcoming that pain, in defeating that sin. 

Lenten prayer is prayer prayed in the darkness of Lent, knowing that Easter will soon be upon us!

Lenten prayer is prayer that sees the tragedy of fathers and mothers torn from their children to defeat despotism and dictatorship thousands of miles from home and yet hopes for the day when such needs might no longer be real. 

Lenten prayer is prayer uttered knowing the heartbreak of young Iraqis also killed in battle, often with guns at their backs in addition to those before them, leaving behind families, children and loved ones, yet looks forward to a day that atrocities will end.

Lenten prayer is prayer offered for children and parents, shopkeepers and ordinary customers, taxi drivers and police officers, killed when markets, housing complexes, and urban areas are either targeted or hit by accident.  It is prayer that is touched by the pain of those moments, and yet looks forward for an end and a day when rebuilding can begin.

One religious leader abroad prayed “for the destruction of the aggressors.[3]” Regardless whether such a prayer is prayed for the death of American and British soldiers, Iraqi death squads or Saddam Hussein himself, this is not a Lenten prayer that our Christ would have prayed.

This is tantamount to the so called "peace protester" who teaches in New York City, calling for the death of American soldiers.[4]  Just as this cannot be called peace, praying for the death of others in wartime cannot be called prayer.

Brenda Wilson of Buffalo knows how to pray Lenten prayer.  Her son, 21-year-old Pfc. Tamario D. Burkett is missing in action.  He is the family poet, the artist, the big brother to a long line of siblings.  He once asked his mother whether God would forgive him if he had to kill someone in combat.

"I'm praying with each ring it could be someone saying: `We have your baby. We found him. He's on his way home,"[5]

During this time of international trial, of suffering in Iraq and pain in the homes of all the casualties of war, all of us must enter into the prayer of Lent, the prayer of Christ who calls us not to turn our heads and flee from trial and trouble, but to pray as those who know that there is more, so much more to suffering and horror in this world, so much more than the sin and evil that encounters us each day, so much more even than life and death, but also life beyond. 

We are called to look forward through the darkness of Lent as Jesus did, through the darkness of a lonely night in Gethsemane garden, through the darkness of a night on the cross and several in a tomb, to the bright shining new day of freedom, resurrection and Easter.

Amen