Oct 16, 2022 |
Will We Pray
| The Rev. Melanie W. J. SlaneWill We Pray
Food, as it turns out, is one of those things that often
elicits prayer between strangers and friends. And aside from praying some short prescriptive
verses over meals at dinner parties, I can't think of many times when my friend
and I prayed together and realized that we were praying.
But several years into our friendship when they came to stay for the weekend... Since they're Lutheran and we're Episcopalian, we picked something we thought the kids might all know, something Jesus taught us. Our mother who art in heaven, hallow would be thy name. All the kids joined in, thy kingdom come. That will be done on Earth as it is in heaven. Here comes the food part. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, sins, debts, and all that bad stuff as we forgive those who trespass against us. They were really on a roll by this point and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from emails.
For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever, amen. Marjorie and I looked at each other and giggled a bit and silently decided not to correct them. Emails after all had recently become the bane of my existence, and with their words, the mundane had become sacred. The reality of life had become a prayer.
As I look back over the many years of our friendship, I realize we've actually been praying together all along for companionship, for sleep between feedings. For kindness, for non-judgment, for guidance for strength, and for liberation, for breaking the mold on what it means to be a mom.
Looking to Jesus' parable today, I'm struck by the reality that if we are to pray always as Jesus asks, then we need to allow everything to become a prayer.
But several years into our friendship when they came to stay for the weekend... Since they're Lutheran and we're Episcopalian, we picked something we thought the kids might all know, something Jesus taught us. Our mother who art in heaven, hallow would be thy name. All the kids joined in, thy kingdom come. That will be done on Earth as it is in heaven. Here comes the food part. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, sins, debts, and all that bad stuff as we forgive those who trespass against us. They were really on a roll by this point and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from emails.
For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever, amen. Marjorie and I looked at each other and giggled a bit and silently decided not to correct them. Emails after all had recently become the bane of my existence, and with their words, the mundane had become sacred. The reality of life had become a prayer.
As I look back over the many years of our friendship, I realize we've actually been praying together all along for companionship, for sleep between feedings. For kindness, for non-judgment, for guidance for strength, and for liberation, for breaking the mold on what it means to be a mom.
Looking to Jesus' parable today, I'm struck by the reality that if we are to pray always as Jesus asks, then we need to allow everything to become a prayer.