July 30, 2023

Offered by Joseph L. Morrow, Associate Pastor

God of the pilgrim way, on this path of life we find our stride strengthened by the knowledge that we are your people and you are our God. And though the mind may receive it, the heart is still yet astounded that the One who hangs the moon and stars would dare care for little ones such as us or the world we inhabit. So we come to you this morning, O Lord, hope filled but bewildered by a love beyond our capacity to understand, a love for which we are wholly inadequate to repay in kind.

As Paul writes, so we feel: we do not know how to pray. We do not know how to pray with sufficient gratitude for all you grant us each day. Air to breathe, the warmth of the sun to feel on our own skin. Too often we shuffle to the next task, appointment, or responsibility. Too little do we stop to wonder. Teach us then to behold the beauty of the earth. Teach us to steward its treasures. Teach us not to take this life for granted.

Lord, we do not know how to pray, yes pray, for those whose love has reminded us so clearly of your own. We do know how to tell you that we cherish the laughter of our loved ones, the devotion and service of dear friends, the parents who held us, and the children who have seen us at our most vulnerable. Instruct us to value our relationships and clothe each person in our lives with dignity and thank them for their presence.

Lord, we confess we do not know how to pray for a world in deep need of your peace, full of disquieted minds, shouting angrily, acting violently, but unable to bring about that which heals hearts and restores communities.

Some days all we can do is sigh at the ways of warfare and conflict, saying “How long, O Lord?” and sometimes that is enough to prick our conscience, to let your righteous indignation in our hearts, and to turn us into peacemakers and justice seekers, ready to do your will at home, at work, at the park and coffee shop, in the street and, yes, on the other side of town.

We do not know how to pray for a nation sometimes set against itself. Drawn toward misinformation and polarization. Always pinning for dreams of ambition, honor, and plenty but still beset by inequality and even indifference to the pain of our neighbors. And yet your Spirit can lead us toward truth. It can move us to act with compassion. It can redirect our aims to be consonant with your character and reign, O God.

We do not know how to pray for ourselves, for the people we not only wish we could be, but for the people we already are in your eyes. We are sheepish to praise what you have fearfully made and boldly called. We don’t know how to pray for our bodies, our aching souls, our loneliness, our anxious worries, our regrets and shortcomings.

So let your Holy Spirit remind us that there is healing in your wings, that there is a divine arm to hold us through struggle, and that you are crafting a work of beauty in each of us we dare not give up.

Yes, we do not know how to pray as we should, listening God, and yet you hear us anyway — you enwrap us in your arms; you seek our best. May we seek your face with abiding trust.

This and the deep concerns and joys of our hearts we pray in the name of Jesus, who never leads us astray nor leaves us alone, encouraging those who follow him to pray, Our Father …

Prayer © Fourth Presbyterian Church