How to Pray in Troubling Times

Jesus said: 

He who seeks, let him not cease seeking until he finds;

 and when he finds he will be troubled, 

and when he is troubled he will be amazed, 

and he will reign over the All.💛

~~The Gospel of Thomas, Saying 2

 

A duck walks into a restaurant, sits at a table, and asks the waiter if they sell grapes. The waiter says, “No,” so the duck gets up and leaves. The next day, the duck comes back, sits at the same table with the same waiter, and asks if they sell grapes. The waiter says, “No, we do not sell grapes.” So, the duck gets up and leaves. The following day, the duck goes back to the same restaurant, sits at the same table with the same waiter, and once again asks, “Do you have any grapes?” Red in the face, the waiter yells, “No, we don’t sell grapes, and if you ask me again, I will nail your beak to the table!” 

The duck leaves, but the next day he comes back again, sits down at the table, and asks the waiter, “Excuse me, do you sell nails here?” “No, we do not sell nails here,” responds the waiter. “Oh, good,” says the duck. “Then, can you sell me some grapes?”

Persistence. It could be why restaurants still serve grapes.

It’s undoubtedly one of the reasons Christianity still exists.

Think about it, after all the persecutions, heresies, so-called “holy” wars, through schisms and scientific advancements, through Reformation, the Enlightenment, Modernism, Post Modernism, Pluralism - all the isms… here we are in this 150-year-old church on a pretty country corner, with our ancient liturgies and our praise band, with our brazen plans for reconstruction that we might better love and serve the community. Who do we think we are? Who do we think God is? 

You want to know what I think? I think God is amazingly persistent.

God’s persistence is modeled in our Old Testament reading. Hosea remains faithful to his unfaithful wife as God is faithful to his people, Israel. The marriage metaphor in Hosea is disturbing. Perhaps it needs to be. Perhaps to shake us out of our complacency. 

God finds a creative way to garner attention by instructing Hosea to marry a “wife of whoredom.” Hosea’s dysfunctional family situation is emblematic of Israel’s broken covenant with God. It was likely scandalous around 750 BCE when this was written. It’s scandalous today as we continue to struggle with issues of honor and shame and patriarchy. 

There is a lot in the Bible that should disturb us, and yet so often we gloss right over it. There’s an awful lot in the world today that should get our attention and rightly disturb us. 

Lynching for one. 

The Emmett Till Anti-Lynching Act was signed into law on March 29, 2022, establishing lynching as a federal hate crime. As you may know, Emmett Till was the fourteen-year-old boy who was brutally attacked and subsequently lynched in 1955. His killers were acquitted, but his violent death generated attention for the burgeoning civil rights movement. It’s unconscionable that it took so long for this law to be passed. 

And it might surprise some of us to know that lynching still occurs in 2025. Disturbing? I agree.

If not for the faithful diligence and courage of very early civil rights activists like Ida B. Wells, this bill may still be on the table – or worse, tabled altogether. 

Ida B. Wells was persistent. Born to enslaved parents in 1862, Wells raised eight siblings after her parents died early from yellow fever. Discovering she had a gift for writing as a young adult, she began her career as a journalist and activist in her hometown of Memphis, Tennessee. When close friends of hers were lynched in 1892, she drafted an article about the dangerous city of Memphis, prompting a mass exodus of blacks from that city. 

Wells fearlessly spoke truth to power in a time when violence toward black bodies was commonplace. In 1895, she compiled a detailed accounting of lynching statistics in the United States, analyzing the socioeconomic, racial, and cultural dynamics of racially motivated violent acts during that era. 

Persistence is critical to affecting social change, but in our prayer life, persistence is also necessary to get us through dry spells when it seems to us that God has all but gone missing. Candler Professor of Church History, Roberta C. Bondi, is an expert on the Desert Mothers and Fathers, third-century monastics who sought to reignite the contemplative prayer life of Jesus. Bondi writes of a friend suffering through a particularly intractable depression. Even when he prayed, this friend reported that God seemed to be absent. Tempted to quit praying altogether, this man, had learned from the Ammas and Abbas to stick with it, to be persistent. Resisting the inclination to give up, he imagines God saying to him, “All these years, I have protected you from your childhood wounds. I want your wholeness, and so I have stepped aside so that you can seek healing for those wounds.” This marked a turning point in the man’s prayer life, and he began to take active steps toward healing.[1]

We don’t have to become a hermit or a seminary professor to learn how to pray. Jesus lays it out for us beautifully.

The original Aramaic version of The Lord’s Prayer probably read more like a poem. Once translated into Greek, in the book of Matthew, we find a longer form of the prayer tucked in the middle of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. Luke’s version is abbreviated and taught to the disciples as they journey toward Jerusalem. The doxology in Matthew was not present in the earliest versions of the Gospel; however, it was in the Didache, a late first or second-century Christian manual. In this text, Christians were taught to pray the Lord’s prayer three times a day.

There is just something about the Lord’s Prayer that gets under our skin. 

According to my seminary professor, prayer, in general, shapes us. When we pray, both privately and publicly, our faith and our belief are reinforced.[2]

We pray to God, our Father, our Abba or Amma, like a loving parent whose name is holy. 

Your kingdom come…I am reminded of that beautiful Taizé chant based on Romans 14:17:

The Kingdom of God is justice and peace,

and joy in the holy spirit.

Come, Lord, and open in us,

The gates of your Kingdom!

This is no throwaway line. It should disturb us. 

Give us our daily bread—enough for this day. 

Forgive us our sins, as we forgive and release those who sin against us. 

Save us from the time of trial. 

Jesus prayed, “Father, remove this cup,” knowing it wasn’t his call. 

Thy will, God’s will, be done. On Earth as in Heaven.

This prayer calls for our radical surrender and persistence. Persistence from the very heart, mind, and soul of Jesus. 

There is a lot these days to be disturbed about. But praying this prayer with persistence can change us.

I have a challenge for us: Keep praying, keep seeking. 

A couple of suggestions: First, I commend to you The Bible Project podcast, especially episodes 412-416, for a comprehensive and fascinating deep dive into the Lord’s Prayer.

Try praying the Lord’s Prayer three times a day, using whichever version you find most compelling. Pray it once, sit with it. Pray it again and be present to what arises. Then pray it one last time. 

Let me know how it goes. Will you?

---

[1] Roberta C. Bondi, To Pray and to Love: Conversations on Prayer with the Early Church (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1991).

[2] Leonel L. Mitchell and Ruth A. Meyers, Praying Shapes Believing: A Theological Commentary on the Book of Common Prayer, Revised Edition, with Episcopal Church, Weil Series in Liturgics (New York: Seabury Books, 2016), 350.

 

This is Not My Sermon for July 27, 2025

“For I do not seek to understand in order that I may believe, 

but I believe in order to understand. 

For this also I believe-that unless I believe I shall not understand.”

― St. Anselm💛

In pondering and praying about this week's lectionary readings, I had some questions for the Creator of the Universe, whom I address here as God...

Me: God, great I Am that You are, what is it like to be you? Who are you?

Do you listen to every prayer? How can you possibly?

I mean, we are always asking for something. Sorry, that's a lot at once. 

God: (Laughing sweetly) What is it like to be me? I am not sure anyone has ever asked that, in all these years. The best word for what it's like is whole. I feel whole. Who am I? I wouldn't describe myself as a who. Like I said to Moses, I am that. I am.  I do hear every prayer, and yes, there are many. I hear, and they pass through me. My I am presence processes each prayer as it passes through my being. 

Does that help? That is the best way I can describe it to you. For now.

Me: Thank you. But I gotta ask, does the suffering on Earth impact your…your… beingness? 

God: Yes. You are my children. When you suffer, I feel it - in a way. Not in the way you feel things. I feel it, and that feeling helps determine an appropriate response, which is always for humanity's highest good. 

Me: I gotta be honest, sometimes it doesn’t feel that way. Life is hard for so many people here on Earth. I know you know that, but I just feel like I needed to say it.

God: I hear you. It’s all going somewhere, though. I promise you. 

Me: I trust you. I do. You have gotten me through some challenging times. But what’s the purpose of all of this? This creation, I mean. We seem to be out to ruin your creation. And yet you still love us? Forgive me. I have so many questions.

God: That’s just it, my darling one.

Me:  Who me?

God: Yes, you. And that’s the whole point. I love you. I adore you, actually. And I forgive you. I want nothing more than your wholeness. You want to heal? You want to heal the Earth? Start with forgiveness. Forgive yourself first, then forgive others, including me. Forgiveness does not mean staying in abusive relationships, though. You can forgive but not forget, just to be clear.

You want to be in relationship with me? You want to take this to a deeper level? That’s really what this is all about. You – seeking me, asking the questions, me responding with love. When you reach out to me, just like you always pick up the phone when one of your kids calls. I will always answer. You just need to get yourself into a space where you are able to hear me, be still and know, as the psalmist writes. Like you’re doing now. You gotta admit, this is kind of cool, isn’t it?

Me: It is. It’s like we’re in conversation. 

But wait, you will do this for everybody?

God: Every single one of you. 

Me: That’s amazing. Just one more question...Where are you exactly? Are you in my mind? In my fingers as I type this…in my heart? I felt like you were with me on my kayak the other day. Was that you? 

God: You ask the good questions. You’re not afraid of the hard questions. I love that about you. What do the scriptures say?

Me: Hmmm…well, we read that you are not in the wind or the earthquake (1 Kings 19:11-18). You are in the burning bush, though (Exodus 3:4). You fill all heaven and Earth (Jer. 23:24). You sit on a throne somewhere up in heaven (Rev. 4:2). You are always with us, even to the end of the age (Mt. 28:20), Jesus told us. 

So, you are not in the destruction, but you are in heaven, and you are also always here with us. In all ways. Have I got that right? It’s hard for me to wrap my brain around.

God: I know it is. But you are doing a great job. Keep on seeking me. Keep asking the good questions. Keep praying. Regular prayer brings us closer. I am always listening, and processing, and loving you more than you can know. Remember the movie E.T.? 

God: I’ll be right here. Let's talk again soon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Before You're Ready

Photo by Smithsonian.com

💛

“To grow a church preach from the heart,
work for the poor, welcome the stranger, embrace the Spirit.
Laugh more than cry. Fail more than wait. Give more than keep.
Be unexpected love and trust the becoming to God.”
― ~~Steven Charleston, Cloud Walking:: A Spiritual Diary

Have you ever seen this segment on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon? (Music Up)

Thank you, adorable bird family, for the special gifts you left us just outside our front door. 

That’s right, a bird family has taken up residence under the roof of our front porch. This happens every year. 

It can be a little inconvenient to host these families. In an effort to deter them, we’ve tried the spikes. But these resourceful birds are somehow able to construct their nests between them! Some of these nests are engineering marvels, really. This year’s is gorgeous. It’s very tidy with kind of a contemporary feel – mid-century modern maybe.

Inevitably, though, fragments of the nest make their way to the porch floor. (Sigh.) I just sweep them up. There’s also the issue of bird poop.

Despite the mess, we have come to enjoy hosting these guests. Especially now that we have a Ring camera on the porch. We get to watch the parents come and go as they care for their newborns, and as the babies eventually grow and leave the nest. We get to watch them as they spread their wings and take flight for the very first time. It’s thrilling.

One year, a pair of mourning doves arrived. A lovely couple, their comforting coo serenaded us morning and evening, as they made themselves at home under the shelter of our porch. Mourning doves are generally in and out fairly quickly. They can build their nests in just a few hours, lay their eggs, and before you know it, they’re gone. Mourning dove mamas usually lay two eggs per clutch.

One day, I noticed there was only one chick in the nest. Mom was there too. She seemed to be poking and prodding her offspring who may have been starting to show signs of failure to launch. Suddenly, I realized - brilliant - she was defeathering her nest. As mom painstakingly deconstructed the home she had built for her family, one tiny twig at a time, junior showed no signs of leaving. He was a squatter. Finally, there was nothing but a mess of nesting debris scattered about. Baby bird, perched perilously on the edge of a ledge, finally gathered his courage, spread his wings, and left us with a tenuous flutter. 

Sometimes we need a little push. It’s a scary world out there. I get it.

So often we find ourselves waiting for just the right moment. There is no perfect time to have a baby, leave an unhappy workplace, or quit an unhealthy habit.

In a way, Jesus pushes his followers out of their comfort zone, sending them, according to Matthew’s Gospel, to the “Lost Sheep of Israel,” perhaps before they feel entirely ready. First, he sends out the twelve, two by two, with specific instructions – take nothing with you. Talk to no one on the road. Offer your peace at each home. Heal the sick, cast out unclean spirits. If you are rejected, shake the dust off your feet, but let them know in no uncertain terms that the Kingdom of Heaven has come near to them. 

Jesus sends the disciples out like “sheep among wolves.” They must be wise as serpents, but harmless as doves. Luke’s is the only Gospel that includes the sending out of the 70, or 72, depending on which translation you read. Some argue that 70 represents the 70 nations that emerged in Genesis chapter 10. However, in the Greek version of the Hebrew Bible, the Septuagint, there were 72 nations. 

Surprise! The Bible has inconsistencies!

Luke, however, is consistent with Jesus’ rather unusual, very specific instructions: take no purse, no bag, no sandals. 

Does this give anyone else anxiety? Those 70 (or 72) disciples, many of whom were likely women, were thrust into a deeply vulnerable position. Jesus sends them out in a state of utter dependency. Sure, they’re sent to spread the good news; they are likely up for that, but Geez Louise, discipleship is hard!

(Music up) Thank you, Barbra Streisand, for 'people who need people, cause they’re the luckiest people…' 

But are they? Just ask the young man in the grocery store, short on enough cash to buy baby formula for his newborn. Ask the unhoused, LGBTQ, people of color, immigrants, senior citizens, someone with a chronic health problem, a victim of domestic violence …Vulnerability is no picnic. It’s not always easy to be on the receiving end of someone else’s hospitality. 

But, God knows, a vulnerable experience can teach us empathy. Literally, God knows.

Grassroots, one of the outreach programs supported by St. Mark’s, is acutely aware of the daily challenges faced by some of our more vulnerable neighbors. Howard County’s primary homeless shelter, Grassroots, provided beds for 547 people last year. In December, thanks to the generosity of several local congregations like ours, Grassroots added twenty more beds to its Cold Weather Shelter Program, increasing its capacity by 40 percent. 

St. Mark’s also supports the Grassroots Crisis Center by supplying meals for more than fifty people on the second Friday of every month. The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. 

Do you feel called to this ministry? For more information about Grassroots, please contact our own Cynthia Scourtis. She can point you in the right direction.

Sometimes we need that little push or encouragement to start the next thing, even before we feel ready. Some of theHebrew prophets, including Moses, Isaiah, and Jeremiah, expressed deep feelings of inadequacy before accepting their call. 

Way back when, before I answered a call to vocational ministry (trust me, that phone rang for a long time), way back then, there was my first solo Lay Eucharistic Visitation. I remember it as if it were yesterday. Trained well by Deacon Diane Fadely, I felt mostly prepared. Still, I was anxious about that first visit. 

I must have looked scared because I recall our rector giving me some specific directions. “Give them communion, but don’t stay too long,” she told me. This dear soul was in the final stages of Alzheimer’s, and although her memory seemed to be gone, she was somehow able to say the Lord’s Prayer. Afterwards, I felt satisfied with the visit. And I reported back as much when I returned the communion kit to the church. Our priest was not impressed. There were plenty more people who needed a visit.  

Anyone who answers a call to Lay Eucharistic Ministry will find that it feels great doing this work. But that’s not the point. It’s about the peace of God moving from soul to soul. It is in this flow that Episcopal Priest and contemplative Cynthia Bourgeault calls the imaginal realm, that the Kingdom of Heaven comes near. Jesus understands this and wants his disciples to experience it too. 

An early Church Father, Bishop Irenaeus, wrote that Jesus became like us so that we might become like Him. Remember the Wedding at Cana? You may recall that Jesus was unsure about the timing of his first miracle. It was his mama who gave him the push he needed, and suddenly, good wine-the very best wine-was flowing freely. 

That wine is the joy of God, the peace of God, the merciful love of God, and the mystery of the Holy Spirit flowing through us and among us when we are brave enough to live fully into our discipleship. Friends, we are called to bring Shalom, Peace, the love of Christ to others in many different ways, large and small. And sometimes this might require that we start before we are ready. 

If you need a little push, we’ve got you. One of the many benefits of belonging to a loving community of faith like this one is we will push you out of your comfort zone. And you will never go it alone. No thank you note necessary.

Amen.

Here's a link to the video

July Yoga

This is Not My Sermon

💛 
God grant me the serenity 
to accept the things I cannot change, 
the courage to change what I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.

This week, as I prayed and pondered about the most important message for this congregation at this time, everything I came up with seemed to fall short. What is in these readings that could possibly inspire an already amazing congregation? This is not exactly me avoiding my exegesis. It’s a simple statement of fact. However, I admit, I might have a problem.

If I’m gonna make this Curacy thing work, I need to simplify my sermon prep process. Yes, I took homiletics (preaching) classes in seminary. Yes, I know the proper steps to take to write a decent sermon with a concise and clear message. Simply stated, problem is, I have Sermon Prep FOMO. Trust me, it’s a thing.

I cast such a wide net when I am working on a sermon; I drag in so many different possibilities, that often I simply cannot decide where to begin. Here are a few of my habitual practices. Sometimes, I create a Spotify playlist with songs that reflect some of the themes of the weekly scripture readings. I look for signs. I will ponder the meaning of the lightning bug that landed on a commentary, researching the spiritual meaning of fireflies. (No surprise, they bring light to dark places, signify change, creativity, and spiritual growth. The way their light shines through them, making them both luminescent and transparent, could indicate heart connections.)  

A diamondback turtle scuttled through the grass as I was working on my sermon, and I took a video as she disappeared into the nearby marsh. Naturally, I needed to investigate. Diamondback turtles are currently a vulnerable species in certain areas due in part to overbuilding, which has jeopardized their natural habitats.  

Should I burrow deep into the weeds like my turtle friend or fly higher up like the lightning bug in order to enlighten the folks? There are just way too many choices. Here are some potential options:

We could begin by discussing the discrepancy between some biblical translations of the 70 or 72 that Jesus sent out on a training mission. What is the meaning of the 70? The 72? There’s a lot of speculation, for example, there are seventy nations that sprang from Noah’s family in Genesis 10. Moses took 70 elders up the mountain to meet God in Exodus. The Israelites spent 70 years in captivity in Babylon. There were seventy elders who made up the Sanhedrin, the great tribunal that pressed for Jesus’ arrest. We might even look to Psalm 70, a prayer for deliverance from enemies, which could fit our passage. 

We could do the same thing with the number 72, citing the 72 nations listed in Genesis in the Greek version of the Hebrew Bible, the Septuagint. We could sleuth until the cows come home. And maybe we should, but I’m not sure we need to, really. One thing I’m certain about is that when it comes to the Bible, we’re better off letting go of certainty.

We could examine Jesus’ rather unusual, very specific instructions: take no purse, no bag, no sandals. Stay in one place, eating and drinking whatever is provided. Does this give anyone else a little anxiety? Those disciples are sent out in a vulnerable position, like lambs among wolves to be specific. 

We could discuss the power of vulnerability and its importance to our relationships. We might delve into Brene Brown’s work on how fear of vulnerability can lead to shame, while vulnerability can open us to joy, creativity, belonging, and love.   

We might discuss the work of Baltimore-born civil rights activist, lawyer, and Episcopal priest Pauli Murray, whose feast day is this week. Murray was the first African American female to be ordained a priest. Murray refused to give up a seat on public transportation well before Rosa Parks and went on to impact civil rights and gender equality legislation. Pauli Murray knew how to shake the dust off her feet. Although highly qualified, Murray was rejected by Harvard because of gender. Pauli Murray is a name we should all be familiar with. 

We could explore peace and what it might mean to bring our peace to a household. We may recall the beloved Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh, who taught his students that to offer peace, we must first be peace. Who said, “If in our daily life we can smile, if we can be peaceful and happy, not only we, but everyone will profit from it. This is the most basic kind of peace work.” I love that!

With all that's going on in the world, perhaps the message is simple. Maybe inner peace is the best place to start. How can the Church inspire peace in the minds, bodies, and spirits of the souls she serves?

Finally (maybe), I guess we could discuss “Ecclesiology,” the study of the Church and what it means to be a follower of Jesus today in this post-postmodern, post-colonialist, pluralistic world. Dear God, help me decide. 

See what I mean? Please pray for me. 

Stay tuned for Sunday.

Love,

Curate Connie+