Why do you pray? Why bother? Why not just solve your problems with logic, mathematical calculation or scientific exploration? What is it about this continual talking to God that makes it so important?
Well, let me begin to give an answer by telling you a story that began many years ago, and then we will see where it takes us from there.
Picture if you will, a little boy of five, leaning against his mother’s knee, her hand resting gently on his head. It has been a long day filled with so much new excitement.
Some things he has learned to do quite well and others he wonders if he will ever learn how to do them.
He is growing up and it is not easy.
Then her gentle voice begins to repeat the prayer he has heard so many times before, “Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed by thy name.” He repeats it along with her. He is proud that he has learned it, though he does not understand all that he prays. Perhaps one day he will.
Time passes, as time will, and there is not time enough this morning to tell all that has happened in the last four years, but he is older now and he is very sad for he is standing by a grave.
His father’s grave.
There has been a coronary… quick, unexpected, final. Tears course down his checks and there, in front of everyone, he falls to his knees and without embarrassment prays: “Our Father which art in heaven…” and for the first time the words have new meaning to them. For the first time he really understand what is that he is saying….”Our Father…my Father. Oh, my father…”
More years pass and it has not been easy.
They have lost their home and live now in a tiny apartment. His mother leaves early for work and arrives back home late.
He is tired, eleven years old, and very angry at the world and what it has done to him. And at his father for dying. But he falls to his knees as he has been doing all his life, for without prayer he knows he is truly lost. “Hallowed be thy name….” he pauses.
How can I be angry with God and pray these words, he thinks. And then he remembers some words that his Sunday school teacher taught him - Christ from the cross saying, “Father forgive them….”
And he sees Christ on the cross and it seems He is speaking directly to him…. “Father forgive this little boy and let him feel thy love and forgiveness for his anger. Bless him and make him strong.” And as the boy repeats the words of the prayer, “Hallowed be thy name…” this time, for the first time, they have real meaning. Now he understands.
Somehow he has survived. Played on the high school football team. Earned his diploma. No money for college, so he has joined the army. And a place called Normandy has become something more than just a name.
His best friend this very day has fallen as they both charged up the beach. A gasp, a strange-puzzled look on his friend’s face… and others are falling, too. And the sounds are the noise of destruction and death, a cacophony of hell. And in the shelter of a wrecked tank, he falls to his knees and prays,”…. Thy kingdom come…. Oh Father, please… thy kingdom come soon, dear Father, please.”
And for the first time the words have real meaning. For the first time he understands.
There are so many terrible battles, and when the war is over there is the battle to just survive. Put food on the table for his new bride and then for the children that come one after the other.
And then one day, after all his loyalty and hard work, he has just been fired. He walks out into the street and it is cold. It is snowing. The sky is as gray and dark as his mood.
And he hates.
Hates like he has never hated before. And he knows it is a cancer that will eat him alive if he does not rid himself of it, so in the snow he falls to his knees to pray. But he can’t. For a year he is filled with bitterness. He hates another human being, his former employer, with such passion he has lost his fellowship with God.
Then one afternoon, he walks to stand in front of the house where his old boss lives. Sees the mansion, the expensive car, the landscaping… and what he feels in his throat is vile and bitter and uncontrolled. Again he falls to his knees and he does not care who sees him.
He thinks to himself, I will not rise until I can continue with the Lord’s prayer, and mean what I say. Not until I can get beyond the words I have been unable to say, “Forgive us…” and he stammers, “Forgive us…” The rest of the prayer sticks in his throat. It seems as if he has been on his knees forever, but in reality it has been a very small piece of time in the midst of eternity. … ”Forgive us…our debts as we forgive our debtors…”
And it is as if a thousand pounds have been lifted off his soul. So many times, over the years, he has prayed these words, but he has never really understood them till now.
The last fifteen years have gotten better. He has a new position of some stability. His salary is not large but neither is it small. He remembers times that were infinitely worse. And then it happens….. A challenge to his honor, to the respect he holds for himself.
A bribe is offered.
Subtle, but obvious.
He is high enough up the corporate ladder to make the request come true. No one would know.
But he has turned it down. Turned down what would have been enough money to assure his children’s college education, help with rising costs, and buy that dream cottage in the mountains.
He could have built himself a monument of excuses and banked a fortune. But he has not. And strangely, wonderfully, he feels better than he has felt in a long, long time. He kneels and prays, “…. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil….” And for the first time he really understands. Finally, with joy in his heart, he understands.
Where have all the years gone? Grandfather he is now. No, even more – a great grandfather.
And they are all gathered round his bed; children, grandchildren – echoes of his own growing up years.
Eight decades and more have taken their toll but he is not afraid. His body is tired, but his spirit is alive and well. His wife is holding his hands and weeping. “Don’t weep, my darling,” he says. “It has been a good life and I but go to a good and gracious Lord.”
And he begins to pray, “Our Father which art in Heaven…” Father, I’m coming I’m coming. “… hallowed by thy name…” For always now dear Father, for always. “…Thy kingdom come..” for these left behind may it truly be Thy kingdom come. “Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread…” You have provided well, Lord. “…Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…” Father, my sins are behind me.
His breathing is more difficult now.
He is having trouble finishing the prayer. Someone finishes the last words for him, “For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever, amen.”
And he smiles and his last breath comes and goes easily. He has prayed this prayer for the last time, but for the first time he has finally, fully understood it all.
TO VISIT T Neil’s other blog WYRICK’S WRITING (A variety of serializations; a novel on Sunday and Tuesday and Thursday varying subjects) (3 times a week added to)
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To view his One Man Dramas on film (see by millions, live and on film and on video)(Martin Luther, Ben Franklin, Charles Wesley, Abraham Lincoln)
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