By the Rev. Dr. Calvon Jones
Assistant Minister/Director
The Memorial Church of Harvard University
(The following is a transcript of the service audio, May 12, 2024)
Happy Mother's Day to all of the mothers, to the aunties, godmothers, sisters who are mothers, to those who have impacted so many children and youth, and to those who may be having a difficult time today because your mother may be resting in eternity. Will you pray with me? Now let the words of my mouth, the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight. God, you alone are my rock and my redeemer. A thought for this sermon is I believe in the power of prayer. I was introduced to the importance of prayer at a very young age. I think it is an understatement for me to say that my family honors prayer. My family is full of, what we say in North Carolina, full of prayer warriors.
The reverence of prayer can be traced back to my grandmother, who lived to be 95, and her name was Mary Lizzie Jones. She lived a life dedicated to prayer, and she passed it on to her children. How do I know? Because her son was a prayer warrior. As soon as we would wake up in the morning, we would pray. Before our feet touched the floor, we prayed prayers of thanksgiving and gratitude for another day. Prayed for our families, prayed for our community, and prayed for our world. We prayed that we would have a successful day and that we would have the strength to face whatever would come our way. I come from a family of prayer warriors. When we would get together for any holiday, you best believe in addition to singing, dancing, there would be prayer. I felt like it was a part of our tradition.
Weekly prayer meetings, family prayers before meals, prayers during Bible study, prayers before bed, prayers of safety and protection before we would even crank the car. Prayers for family and friends, prayers for marriages, relationships. Prayers for fulfillment, joy, happiness, and peace. We also prayed when family members were sick. I never shall forget this moment in our family when I was a little boy. My uncle, named McCoy, was dying of kidney failure and was unconscious, was in a coma. My grandmother, uncles, aunts, cousins, and relatives squeezed in that small hospital room. It had to be about 40 of us.
I never shall forget the love of God and the love that was felt between our family and the love for my uncle. And my grandmother with her [inaudible 00:03:17] but powerful voice lifted up love and lifted up prayer. It was almost as if heaven was in that room. This communal act of prayer birthed a miracle. And I know some of you all may not believe in it, but I experienced it. The doctors had given my uncle up. But after the singing and the prayer, my uncle made a drastic turn and opened his eyes.
McCoy lived another 20 years. This educated man, Reverend Jones, who has gone to Morehouse, Yale, and Duke believes in the power of prayer. But today, prayer seems to have gotten a bad rap. Through the me-centered tropes and theologies, prayer has warped into this individualized type of faith. Instead of prayer connecting each other, prayer has become an escape to not deal with others and to not deal with the real social conundrums and ills of today. Prayer has become a way for us to be in our comfortable confinements of our churches and homes and institutions without connecting to our neighbor.
Prayer for some has become a cliché, with empty words that we immediately forget and put on our shelves. How many times do we say, "I'll pray for you?" Our, "I will pray for you," is quickly lost in the busyness of our lives. Instead of prayer reaching from heart-to-heart and breath-to-breath, instead of prayer being the corporate, communal, and tangible outreaching discipline, it has become individualized and devoid of neighbor. Prayer for some has become a laundry list of things that we want God to do for us and only us. Emerson Fosdick writes that, "Some use prayer and God as a cosmic bellhop for whom we can press a button and get things done." Nadia Bolz-Weber writes, "I used to think that prayer was like the quarter that you put in God's vending machine so that he would release the gumball that you wanted."
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The true sacredness of prayer is a relationship with the other. It is an invitation to participate in the will of God that is rooted in love and humanity. Prayer is not about us, but it's about making the world a better place. Now, don't leave here and say, "Reverend Jones said we should not pray for ourselves." No, that's not what I said. Because when you really do the work of justice, anyone who's really seeking prophetic liberation has to pray for themselves because it takes strength and courage in order to be there for your neighbor. For we have that exemplar known as Jesus. Jesus who was sent here to create a new world, went on a mountain to pray alone. He even went in the wilderness to pray alone. However, these prayers were not selfish. They were prayers preparing him to be able to minister to the outcast.
After he prayed, Jesus was found praying for lepers who were ostracized from the community. Jesus was found praying for the man in the tombs who was relegated to the margins. He was found praying in the temple advocating for justice and fairness to the poor who came for religious festivals known as Passover. He was known for praying for the widows, praying for the sick, praying for those on the Sabbath. Jesus knew what prayer meant. After you heard that beautiful prayer by Steph, we recite Sunday after Sunday the Lord's Prayer. But what I love in that prayer that Jesus taught his disciples is he said, "On earth as it is in heaven." Not justice theology over yonder, but what we should do down here. The kingdom is here to make a difference here. And in the text today as I begin to go to my seat, our gospel reading takes us back to the night in which Jesus is betrayed.
In John, Jesus has just broken bread. Jesus, in an act of servant leadership, has just washed his servant's feet. The basin of water is on the floor, the wine glasses are on the table. Jesus teaches his disciples what is going to happen after his death, resurrection, and ascension. He gives promises and joy. But out of the messiness, he stops and looks up to heaven and he prays. In fact, all of John 17 is a prayer. Jesus begins with the prayer for himself as he approaches the events that will lead to his death. But then he prays for his friends, for their protection, that they will know the truth, know their mission.
And in verse six, it says, "I have made your name known to those whom you have me from the world." In verse 11, "And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world and I am coming to you. Loving God, protect them in your name." Jesus prays for protection for his friends. But not only that, Jesus prays for protection for us, for He knows that if we are going to follow Christ, we will be persecuted. We will be talked about. If we are going to really stand for justice, we are going to be ridiculed. So Jesus prays for his disciples and he prays for us.
So beloved, there is power in prayer. One author writes, "Pray angrily like Job or trembling like Christ in the garden of Gethsemane. Pray eagerly with dedication like Mary's Magnificat, or joyfully and gratefully like the woman who found her lost coin." There is no right or wrong way to pray, but pray. Because prayer, true prayer is centered in love and the liberation of neighbor. Prayer is the posture that holds all of life together. But if we will be honest, sometimes we become weary in prayer, especially when we want the world around us to change. We ask, "Is God really hearing our prayers?" We pray for health, but sickness yet cripples our body. We pray for peace, yet people are suffering in Gaza and Israel. We pray for compassion and refuge, yet people are turned away at the borders. Reverend Jones, is there really power in prayer?
Yes, because prayer unites us. It brings us together to not just have empty words, but that our feet and hands match our words. We must remember today that Jesus prays for us and with us. You remember the story in the beginning of the sermon of my grandmother and my family, something that I thought was so amazing when my Uncle McCoy came out of his coma. His words were, "The love of my family pulled me out of the darkness of my coma." It wasn't necessarily the words that we said, but it was the love and the unity of family members coming together and touching and agreeing for the other. Maybe, just maybe, it will be the love of our prayers that will change this world. The love of us coming together, standing for peace and justice that will pull our world out of the darkness of evil and suffering. So beloved, don't stop praying.