kneel in wonder at heaven touching earth» Prayer

Sunday School Picnic

Paul Sibley — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 09:00:19 +0000

I wonder how many of us have prayed in a similar way to the little girl in this story — especially as children. But I wonder, too, how many of us have really believed those prayers would be answered like this little girl.

Sunday School Picnic

On Monday the minister’s little daughter was very naughty, so her mother told her she couldn’t go to the Sunday School picnic on Saturday.

For the next few days the girl’s behaved so nicely the mother changed her mind and said she could go to the picnic after all. Surprisingly, the child’s reaction was one of gloom and unhappiness.

“What’s the matter?” asked her mother. “I thought you’d be glad to go to the picnic.”

“It’s too late,” said the little girl. “I’ve already prayed for rain!”

In Your Midst

Paul Sibley — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 09:00:58 +0000

I was on duty for Evensong in Godmanchester again on Sunday. If I were more confident with thinking on my feet, I would have probably tried to do a different sermon. I had decided to do something based on the Old Testament lesson, rather than the New Testament lesson which I most frequently preach from — don’t really know why now, yesterday’s NT lesson was the Magnificat!

About 30 minutes before the service I had an awful feeling that I was preaching the ‘wrong’ sermon — a feeling that never left me. I was a bit croaky with the singing too, which didn’t help. I just hope and pray that God will have been able to speak to people despite my presence getting in the way, especially as we had a couple of people in the congregation we don’t usually see, one who’s only just moved into Godmanchester.

Here, for what it’s worth, is the sermon more or less as preached.

In Your Midst
‘Sing and rejoice, O daughter Zion! For lo, I will come and dwell in your midst, says the Lord.’ Zechariah 2:10

Here all along
Have you ever searched for something you’d lost, and hunted all over the house, only to discover it was right there where you’d been sitting? ‘It was right here all along,’ you cry in exasperation. ‘How could I have missed it? Right under my nose!’

One particular time something like it happened to me often comes to mind, probably because it was so silly! I was doing my school homework, which rather dates it. I’d been busy writing, then stopped to read it back. When I wanted to write some more I couldn’t find my pen. I searched high and low for it, even in places it couldn’t possibly be. It was nowhere to be found.

The only thing I could do was get another pen, and use that to carry on with my homework. Next time I paused to read what I’d written, I put the pen down carefully — I didn’t want to lose another one.

When I was ready to start writing again, I took the pen I’d been chewing on out of mouth — yes, the first pen; it was, quite literally, right under my nose!

It often happens, whether you’re looking for something small or something big, that what you’re looking for has been under your nose all the time, only you didn’t see it.

People travel to oriental lands to study mysticism and meditation, and then they find that there’s a great history of these things in European Christianity, only they didn’t know about it. People travel to far-off places in search of mental peace and healing, when they could have found it by staying at home and learning to relax.

People go on pilgrimages to find somewhere where their prayers will be answered, and discover that God’s invisible presence has been with them throughout the journey. Particularly when looking for God, what we’re searching for is often found to have been here all along.

Transcendence
Yet how can this be true, we wonder? Surely God is too great and wonderful to be found in as humble a place as my home!

And it’s true. God is transcendent, higher than the highest heavens, greater than the universe he made. The nature of God passes our understanding; our little minds can’t even begin to understand his greatness.

It’s a terrible thing to fall into the hands of the living God, because our sinful souls would shrivel up in the light of his moral purity. The immensity of the divine is displayed by the majesty of the mountains and the distances of space.

How can we even think about a transcendent God like that, let alone speak to him?

Good to talk
Yet the astonishing thing, which the Bible reveals, is that God wants us to speak to him. We could never have guessed that if God hadn’t told us so himself.

It’s good to talk — it builds up relationships. And it’s good to talk to God, because by prayer we learn to trust him, to depend on him, and to rely on him. By prayer we learn how much God loves us, and we learn to love God in return.

But how can we pray to a God who is greater than we can even imagine? The mind boggles at our presumption in even trying to speak to a transcendent God like that. It’s a real problem.

Incarnation
So God decided to do something about it. He wants us to hold on to our belief in his transcendence. But he wants us to learn that he’s close to us, as well.

So God decided to become one of us. The immeasurable God shrank himself, smaller and smaller, until all his transcendent greatness was contained in a foetus in the womb of a young woman in Nazareth.

When that baby was born, he wasn’t some mighty prince. The Creator of the universe became an ordinary, tiny baby, without even a proper roof over his head. Astonishing!

But that was how God wanted to show us that we can talk to God, in spite of his greatness. All we have to learn to do is speak to Jesus of Nazareth, a human being like us.

If we talk to Jesus, we’re talking to God. It’s as simple as that. The transcendence and the immanence of God are brought together in the God-Man of Galilee.

In your midst
God had promised in advance that he’d do this. Think of the promise of a child who’d be born and called Emmanuel, ‘God-is-with-us’. And in the prophet Zechariah (which we heard from in our Old Testament lesson this evening): ‘Sing and rejoice, O daughter Zion! For lo, I will come and dwell in your midst, says the Lord’ (Zechariah 2:10).

We ought to have been ready for his coming. But instead we travel the globe looking for God, and scan the heavens with our telescopes hoping to find him. And God was there all along, right next to us, only we didn’t pay him any attention.

The Babe in the manger is the end of our quest. There in our midst. Only he seemed so ordinary that we didn’t even notice him.

God wants us to talk to him. And it isn’t difficult, because he’s right here listening for us to speak to him. ‘God was here all along,’ we cry in astonishment.’ How could I have missed him? Right under my nose, here in the midst of us!’

I Waited Patiently for the Lord

Paul Sibley — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 09:00:49 +0000

It feels like an awfully long time since I’ve been able to lead Evensong and preach a sermon at Church. It’s about two and half months for the latter, and a month longer for the former. But there were a couple of early services, with sermons, between the two. Sunday evening I was able to do the full service, despite being a bit croaky (silly cold) — can’t have been much fun for the congregation. It was great to be able to do it again though. Here’s the sermon, more or less:

I Waited Patiently for the Lord
‘I waited patiently for the Lord : and he inclined unto me, and heard my calling.’
(Psalm 40:1 BCP)

Unanswered Prayer
Have you ever prayed desperately, asking God for something you really need, and nothing happened? I imagine the answer to that is probably, ‘Yes!’

You didn’t get the healing, or the job, or the partner you really wanted. Perhaps you began to ask yourself, ‘What’s all this that the Bible says about God answering prayer?’

But nowhere in the Bible are we promised that God’s answer to prayer will be immediate. He may not be ready yet, and God’s time is always best. God may know that you’re not ready yet, and he’ll give you what you need when you can make the best use of it.

God always answers prayer, but the answer may be ‘yes’; or ‘no’, because what you’ve asked for may not be what’s best for you; or it might even be ‘wait’.

Waiting
Advent is the season for waiting. We wait for Christmas, and, because of all the planning, and the shops starting to sell Christmas goods earlier every year, sometimes it seems as though it’ll never come.

Just think of all those people in the Old Testament who waited for the coming of the Messiah, and died without seeing his birth. Think of Simeon, the old priest who blessed baby Jesus in the Temple, and Anna the prophetess, who both spent all their lives waiting for God to show mercy to his people, and recognised in this tiny baby the answer to their prayers.

Who are we, then, if God’s answer to our prayers seems a long time coming? We must learn patience.

In our life
We wait for God to intervene in our own lives. God promised justice; why does he allow all the injustices in the world? God promised guidance; why do we flounder for so long in the mire of doubt and indecisiveness? God promised healing; so why do so many people fall sick, and die unhealed?

To all these questions, God answers, ‘Wait’. Wait patiently, and wait in hope. God will intervene, when he’s ready. It may not be in the way that you asked him to; and if you’re not alert, you may not recognize God at work when he comes to you.

But if you’re ready for the ‘God of surprises’ to do the unexpected, and willing to co-operate with him when he calls you to, there’s no limit to the good things you and God may be able to do together.

Then, if what you specifically asked for doesn’t actually come to pass in this life, but you’ve waited in faith, hope, and love, God will come to you when you die, and reward your patience. Eternal life will be so wonderful; it’ll completely overshadow your temporary disappointments.

The end
In Advent we wait for ‘the End’, but people never stop arguing about what this means. Does it mean a second coming of Jesus to earth? Does it mean the disintegration of the physical universe, a sort of ‘anti Big Bang’? Or is it just a poetic image?

Perhaps that doesn’t need to concern us, as long as we’re ready for anything. Jesus said, ‘The end is not yet’ (Matthew 24:6). So don’t be disappointed, there’s plenty of work to be done in the meantime, in caring for the needy and spreading the good news of God’s love.

Advent hope
Advent is also a time of hopefulness — patient hopefulness.

A fine prayer for hope is found in the, Book of Common Prayer, Collect for this Sunday. The Common Worship lectionary, which we follow here, has moved it to the Last Sunday after Trinity, which is often celebrated as Bible Sunday.

Archbishop Thomas Cranmer, who wrote the first Book of Common Prayer in 1549, translated most of the Collects from the Latin Missal. But on the Second Sunday of Advent he wrote an entirely new prayer, based on the Epistle for the day, which we just heard read from the Letter to the Romans. It’s a super prayer:

Blessed Lord, who hast caused all Holy Scriptures to be written for our learning. Grant that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that by patience, and comfort of thy holy Word, we may embrace, and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which thou hast given us in our Saviour Jesus Christ.
(Book of Common Prayer)

A psalm
The same message of hope drawn from the promises of Scripture is in Psalm 40 — which we sang earlier:

I waited patiently for the Lord : and he inclined unto me, and heard my calling.

In the volume of the book it is written of me, that I should fulfil thy will, O my God : I am content to do it; yea, thy law is within my heart.

Patience
Here are some more quotes about patience:

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, ‘Patience and fortitude conquer all things.’

Edward Bulwer-Lytton wrote, ‘Patience is not passive; on the contrary it is active; it is concentrated strength.’

From Jean-Jacques Rousseau we have: ‘Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.’

And a couple of anonymous verses:

‘Patience is a virtue, virtue is a grace,
both put together make a very pretty face.’

Finally, one I’m sure you’ll recognise:

‘Patience is a virtue, possess it if you can;
found seldom in a woman, and never in a man!’

Come to my heart
Patience is a grace that only God can give. This Advent, will you wait patiently for the coming of Jesus at Christmas, in moments of challenge, as you are dying and at the end?

Will you welcome him when he comes at last in justice to right all worldly wrongs?

Then sing in the words of the hymn: ‘O come to my heart, Lord Jesus, there is room in my heart for thee.’
(465 — New English Hymnal)

The Wonder of Walsingham

Paul Sibley — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 09:00:38 +0000

I have always loved Walsingham. There are quite a number of posts that have appeared on this blog in the years I’ve been writing it about the place — you can find them by clicking here. I was lucky enough to be able to go for the inside of last week, as mentioned in my last post. I wasn’t sure it was advisable with my health as it had been, but am so glad I went.

There were very few people there last week — November is outside of the main pilgrimage season — so it was even more tranquil than it is normally. But peace and quiet; time to think; and especially, time to pray, were just what I needed: and they were all there in abundance.

I know we are with God everywhere, and don’t need to go to a special place to pray. But sometimes it can help. Especially when it’s a place where thousands of other people have prayed before you. Being somewhere special like that with absolutely no time-pressure — no services to prepare for, no meals to think about, etc — can make the communion with God very special indeed. At least, that’s what I found last week.

Even without the pilgrimage activities there are several regular acts of corporate worship each day: Mass is celebrated three times at various places within the shrine complex; and Evening Prayer and Shrine Prayers, both in the shrine church. I joined in with some, though not all, of that regular round of worship. But it was the time alone with God that was particularly special last week.

I spent much of that time alone upstairs in the Chapel of the Blessed Sacrament, in front of the Tabernacle (pictured below) where the Sacrament is constantly reserved. It’s a lovely place to sit, and probably one of the most comfortable places to sit for any length of time in the shrine church. It’s also a place that very few tourists visit — not that there were many around anyway. Another place I spent a great deal of time, was in the Chantry Chapel of the Guild of All Souls (pictured bottom). Again, it was somewhere to find peace and solitude. It was wonderful to just sit and ‘be’ with God; not worrying about what words to use, or that I should be somewhere else.

When I went away, I knew I had a lot to think and pray about, especially around my future ministry. I did spend some time thinking and praying those things; but mostly I just spent time ‘being’ with God, and just let my thoughts and prayers wander wherever they would. I don’t think there’s any coincidence in the two places I felt most drawn to, and spent the most time in. And, I think, I have a clearer understanding of some changes that could be made — more about that later perhaps: there is still much to assimilate, and conversations to be had.

One thing I am sure of, this blog has an important role in my future. The blog holiday was necessary because of the really bad patch I had with my health. The blog may change and evolve a little, but don’t we all as we journey through life. But I’m determined that it will still be here.

I learned a lot about myself last week in Walsingham, and think I fell in love with the place a little more. As much as I love to go in pilgrimage season, and join in all the activities, I suspect an out-of-season-Walsingham will be a destination again in the future — funds permitting.

Archbishop of Canterbury on Prayer

Paul Sibley — Thu, 07 Jul 2011 08:00:27 +0000

This is a video of the Archbishop of Canterbury discussing what prayer means to him, with Aled Jones in an episode of ‘Songs of Praise’. I do like what he says, especially about praying when you feel that God is with you always anyway.

A Locked Car Door

Paul Sibley — Tue, 31 May 2011 08:00:41 +0000

Have you ever felt that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you get back to the car, only to realize that your keys are safely locked inside? I know I have, though, thankfully, not for a while — I think they make it a bit harder to do in modern cars. Now, can you imagine how much worse that sinking feeling would be if you were desperate to get medication to your sick child? I like this joke, it’s funny, but carries a message too — when things feel at their worst, there is still somewhere to turn.

Locked Car Door

A woman was at work when she received a phone call that her daughter was very sick with a fever. She left her work and stopped by the pharmacy to get some medication. She got back to her car and found that she had locked her keys in the car.

She didn’t know what to do, so she called home and told the baby sitter what had happened. The baby-sitter told her that the fever was getting worse. She said, “You might find a coat hanger and use that to open the door.”

The woman looked around and found an old rusty coat hanger that had been thrown down on the ground, possibly by someone else who at some time or other had locked their keys in their car. Then she looked at the hanger and said, “I don’t know how to use this.”

So she bowed her head and asked God to send her some help. Within five minutes an old rusty car pulled up, with a dirty, greasy, bearded man who was wearing an old biker skull rag on his head. The woman thought, “This is what you sent to help me?” But, she was desperate, so she was also very thankful.

The man got out of his car and asked her if he could help. She said, “Yes, my daughter is very sick. I stopped to get her some medication and I locked my keys in my car. I must get home to her. Please, can you use this hanger to unlock my car?”

He said, “Sure”. He walked over to the car, and in less than a minute the car was opened. She hugged the man and through her tears she said, “Thank You So Much! You are a very nice man.”

The man replied, “Lady, I am not a nice man. I just got out of prison today. I was in prison for car theft and have only been out for about an hour.”

The woman hugged the man again and with sobbing tears cried out loud, “Oh, Thank you God! You even sent me a Professional!”

Open the doors of our hearts

Paul Sibley — Sun, 01 May 2011 08:00:47 +0000

Today is The Second Sunday of Easter — Easter Day being the First Sunday of Easter. Our Collect for today has some words that I often use in my prayers — they’re words I use when I pray for help in discerning God’s will for my life.

“Open, or close, the doors of my heart” seem to be words that are often on my lips. I pray that God will open the doors, or make the way easier, if the choices I’m making are right: and close the doors, or make the way harder, if I’m making the wrong choices.

This way of praying does seem to have worked for me in the past. Whenever I’m struggling with deciding which of various options are the best for me, I’ll keep trying the doors, or exploring the choices, and trust that God will open or close them as he sees fit, to guide me into doing as he would want me to do.

It always amazes me how often, after struggling to work out the correct way to take, things just feel “right” when I’ve made the right choice — the doors open readily, the way is easier. The opposite is frequently true too; when I’ve made the wrong choice, things seem much more complicated — the doors become barriers and are closed, the way is harder.

I do believe that I will always have the ability, the free-will, to break through the barriers, the closed doors. But I’ve felt that if I have force things in that way, I’m usually going wrong, and the way I’m choosing isn’t the best for me.

Unfortunately I can no longer remember who it was that taught me this way of praying for guidance in the discernment process; my memory for those type of details is very poor. But I do remember that it was taught to me because it was a way that person found helpful, and hoped I would too. And that has been the case, I have found it very helpful. Next time you’re struggling to make a decision, and wondering just which way God wants you to go, you might like to try it for yourself. It worked for the person who taught me, it seems to work for me, and it just might work for you too.

Risen Christ,
for whom no door is locked, no entrance barred:
open the doors of our hearts,
that we may seek the good of others
and walk the joyful road of sacrifice and peace,
to the praise of God the Father.

Additional Collect for The Second Sunday of Easter
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

Were They Angels?

Paul Sibley — Sat, 09 Apr 2011 08:00:39 +0000

This is another story sent to me by Elizabeth about something that happened to her and her daughter when they went to the Theatre one night. ‘Coincidence — or a spectacular answer to prayer — or were they angels?’ Thanks Elizabeth.

Were They Angels?

Coincidence — or a spectacular answer to prayer — or were they angels?

This is a true story — the sort of occurrence that leaves Christian believers absolutely bowled over with the felt love of God. To write or tell about it seems almost presumptuous, and because it is a personal story, leaves the people involved feeling quite vulnerable! But I think our enemy, the devil, doesn’t want us to share such an experience, which might give others encouragement.

I went with my younger daughter, Sarah, to the Rosehill Theatre near Whitehaven in Cumbria, about five years ago. There was to be a one man presentation of the Gospel of Saint Matthew by an actor called George Dillon, at 8pm. It was March and extremely dark and rather misty, and the noticeboard for the Theatre had blown down, so we missed the turning. There were some cars behind us, so seeing a notice saying ‘Escape Road’, we turned on to it until we were able to turn round again. But the escape road turned out to be a loose pile of gravel, which we couldn’t detect in the dark. Our small Ford Ka ploughed into this gravel, nose first, and the more we tried to get out, the more we sank further in.

What could we do? We didn’t have a mobile phone with us. There were some lights in the distance, but this was about 7.45pm on a Friday night.

We tried scraping the gravel away from the front of the wheels, but it was useless. We faced a long walk to try to get help, and knew it would take a miracle to get to this performance at Rosehill. I sent up an ‘arrow’ prayer:

‘Lord, you know how important it is, especially for Sarah, to hear this Gospel presentation this evening. But we are totally stuck in this gravel, and we don’t know what to do. We really need a couple of hefty blokes to come by with the necessary equipment to dig us out. Please help us.’

Sarah was praying too. We only stood there for a minute or two. Suddenly, out of the mist, a Land Rover drove up and stopped. Out got a couple of hefty men in work clothes. ‘Want some help?’ they said. One went to the back of their vehicle and produced a spade and some rope. His mate got into the front of our car. In about three minutes the Land Rover had towed us out backwards (not without difficulty), and we were back on the tarmac road again, undamaged. We tried to offer the men some money to go and have a drink on us, but they refused, accepted our thanks, and drove away back into the mist. I noticed a young woman smiling at us from the back of the Land Rover.

Scattering gravel right and left, we turned into the Theatre car park, and were in our seats only two minutes after the performance had started! I don’t think they were angels …… or do I? God does take our prayers very seriously, it seems, and we still feel enveloped in the care of our loving Heavenly Father.

A Mountain Top Experience

Paul Sibley — Tue, 05 Oct 2010 08:00:58 +0000

I thought this joke was very funny. But it does also highlight, at least a little, that an answer to prayer may not be what we expect or even want, even when it’s what we’ve asked for!

A Mountain Top Experience

Smith climbs to the top of Mount Sinai to get close enough to talk to God.

Looking up, he asks the Lord, “God, what does a million years mean to you?”

The Lord replies, “A minute.”

Smith asks, “And what does a million pounds mean to you?”

The Lord replies, “A penny.”

Smith asks, “Lord, can I have a penny?”

The Lord replies, “In a minute.”

Silence

Paul Sibley — Mon, 13 Sep 2010 08:00:49 +0000

This post is another one of Fr. Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations. In this one he talks about how we don’t need words or images when we discover ourselves to be “hidden with Christ in God”.

Silence

When we discover ourselves to be “hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3), we don’t need to project or maintain any kind of self-image at all. I hope this doesn’t sound too esoteric, because it isn’t. This is exactly what happens in true prayer and in true lovemaking: “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” This lovely phrase is used three times in the Song of Songs, and is often found on contemporary Jewish mezuzahs, to be touched and invoked as you pass the doorway.

This is what will happen when we expose ourselves to silence and stop exposing ourselves to the judgements of the world; when we stop continuously “picking up” the energy of others; when we stop thinking about what others think of us and what they need or take us to be. We are who we are in God—no more and no less. We probably do need to remind ourselves of this almost every time we pass through a doorway.

Starter Prayer:
Listen to the stillness,
the language of God.

I try to use silence quite a lot in my prayer life: sometimes I’m more successful than others. I’d like to say that I started to use silence because it seemed to be a natural progression in my prayer life — but I can’t, not with any integrity. No, the reality was that I started to use silence because I couldn’t think what to say, and the silences gradually became longer, because I couldn’t think what to say. But after a few months, and the silences had become virtually the whole prayer, I suddenly realized that the silences were the times when I felt closest to God. I’d stopped worrying about what I was going to say and started to listen, and then to just be with God. It was immensely liberating.

The email this came from was one of Fr. Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations. If you would like to subscribe too, and I can recommend them, the website is here: The Center for Action and Contemplation. It won’t cost you anything.