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Union University Church | |
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| By Reverend Laurie DeMott |
April
13, 2008 |
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| Many
years ago, I dabbled in the hobby of nature photography. Learning how to
look at the natural world through a camera lens was really just an excuse
to spend time outside immersed in nature since our society frowns on people
lying in the grass gazing at the clouds for no reason after the age of 10.
Eventually, I switched from photography to drawing since drawing is a lot
cheaper but I have some great memories of those times when I stalked wildlife
with my camera. One of those memories occurred about ten years ago. It was
a warm Fall afternoon and I had taken my camera to wander the paths around
my 8 and a half acres of land to peer through my lens at asters, Queen Anne's
Lace, and ripening crab apples hanging from wizened branches. After about
a half an hour of snapping pictures of vegetation, I looked around for more
challenging photo opportunities. Goldenrod is pretty but I wanted something
to test my skill at the hunt – I wanted a prey that moved. I scanned
the field for birds but they were apparently all dozing on hidden nests.
One butterfly flitted overhead but I was sure if I tried snapping its picture,
it would be hard to convince someone that it was a butterfly and not just
a smudge on the print. Then I noticed my Springer Spaniel, Bronte, nosing
about in the grass a few yards away. Bronte was not exactly a native species
but she was more difficult to capture on film than a crabapple, and would
make a nice test of my skills. In fact, I thought to myself, this would
be a good opportunity to use Bronte to try out a photography trick I had
recently read about.
Accordingly, I walked down the path away from where Bronte was poking about in the grass and positioned myself just beyond a curve in the trail. There I crouched down and focused the camera on an imaginary point in the air about an arm's length from me. The idea was that Brontë would come down the path and as she came around the curve, she would walk right into my frame of focus which would mean that I could quickly snap her picture without having to take the time to adjust the camera. Nature photographers use this technique to capture photos of animals on well-traveled paths or birds flitting to a predictable spot like a nest. Likewise, I would be able to grab a candid closeup of Bronte and I had the additional advantage that I wouldn’t have to wait for my quarry to appear – I could simply call her to me when I was ready. So there I was, crouched down on the path, camera to my eye, feeling so clever anticipating the fine picture I was about to get. I called out, “Come, Brontë. Come here, Brontë!” and I waited. I could hear her bounce out of the grass onto the path and start toward me, but, crouched down at dog's eye level, I couldn't see her and wouldn't see her until she turned the curve in the path and entered the viewfinder. “Come on, Brontë”, I called again to hurry her along. I heard her scramble a bit more on the path and then break into a fast trot toward me. Peering through the lens, finger posed on the shutter in anticipation, I waited for her to enter my view, waited to get my wonderful shot. And suddenly, there she was plunging around the bend, inches away from my lens, filling the frame in glorious Spaniel splendor -- with a huge furious garter snake dangling from her mouth! "Get away, Brontë! Go away!" I yelled, jumping back. I don't mind snakes, but I prefer them on the ground, preferably a few yards away, not thrust into my face for a close-up view. “Get away, Brontë!” I yelled at this dog who only moments before I had called to come. Brontë stopped in her tracks with a puzzled expression, snake writhing around her chin, and then obediently she trotted off, but only after first dropping the angry snake like a gift at my feet. After all, she must have reasoned with dogged logic, I had called her to come. If I hadn't wanted what she had, why would I have called? Why had I called? I had wanted a nice sweet portrait of a tame little dog, but instead I got a dog in all of her natural dogness -- proud huntress of snakes. (Actually, I didn't get either picture because I was so startled, I never pressed the shutter button.) Even though I was the one who asked Brontë to come, when she did, I backed away and begged her to leave because I didn't like what she had to give me. We come to church on Sunday mornings to bow our heads before God and quiet our minds in prayer waiting for God to speak. In the hectic and troubled pace of our lives, we come to find a place where we can tap into the source of eternal wisdom hoping that God will bring us the gift of renewal, comfort, and peace for our troubled souls. And sometimes prayer is like that. Sometimes prayer is getting down on our knees in meditation or walking in contemplation or allowing the chant of a psalm to sink its repetitive tones into our anxious minds so that God can quiet the chatter of our brains and create a place of peace for our weary hearts. Every one of us has had days when what we need most from God is the life giving water of God’s love to irrigate the weary desert of our spirits. But prayer is not just about what we need from God; prayer is just as much, if not more often, about what God needs from us. Yes, God promises you peace, wholeness, and purpose if you give your life to God but the whole basis of our faith is our recognition that God knows better than we do how to get to that place of peace, wholeness, and purpose from where we are today. If we didn’t believe that God is able to see the ways of our hearts with finer clarity than we ourselves possess, then we wouldn’t need prayer to become whole; all we would need is a good self-help book. Our faith tells us, however, that God’s understanding of us and our world is deeper than ours is, is wider than ours is, is farther reaching than ours can ever be – in other words, God is much more perceptive about you and the world than any human being will ever be, and so you come to God in prayer trusting that God’s word can bring you healing in a way you will not be able to figure out as well on your own. If we insist on approaching prayer like the Pharisee of Jesus’ parable, looking only for God to confirm our decisions and bring us a little restbit on the path we already have chosen to walk, than we may very well be frustrating the desires of God because God may need something different from us in order to get us and the world from where we are now to the place we need to be. If you take prayer seriously as a time for God to communicate with you as much as you communicate with God, then the most courageous act of your week may be the moment when you bow your head. Like my focusing the camera to be ready to receive Bronte when she appeared, prayer is focusing your heart so that it is ready to receive God when God appears, whether God comes with a warm sweet word for you or with an unexpected word that frightens the bejeebers out of you. We must be prepared to receive whatever it is that God needs to say to us. And so as we bow our heads in prayer, we should always do so by first reminding ourselves of the words God gave to Joshua: Be strong and courageous! Prayer is for the brave. Abraham and Sarah listened for the word of God and they were told to leave their homes and travel to an unknown land. David listened for the word of God and he was told to fight a giant with only a slingshot. The disciples listened for the word of God and Jesus told them to turn the other cheek, to forgive seven times seventy times, and to take up the cross and follow him. Paul listened for the word of God and it came in such blinding fury that it struck him down and demanded a complete turn-around in his life. If we tell people that prayer is the place where we will receive a word of comfort and peace, we are not being totally honest with them or with ourselves. We have told them only a part of the truth: prayer is the act in which we open ourselves to receive the holy word of God whatever that word may be. “Our Father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” Courageous words. Brave words. Lay your heart before God in prayer and perhaps God will give you a word of comfort, or maybe God will say to you, “I see bitter feelings in your heart that you need to get rid of. I see ungenerous thoughts that are helping no one. You need to make a complete turn around here and here before you will find the comfort you seek. Be strong, be courageous.” Lay your life before God in prayer and perhaps God will give you a word of rest or maybe God will say to you, “I have work I need you to do and I know it is work you are not sure you are capable of doing, but you are the one I have chosen. I have faith in you. Be strong, be courageous.” If we truly believe as our faith proclaims, that God sees better than any of us can see, then we must be ready to accept the word that God brings us, no matter how unsettling that word may be, because it is only God who knows best how to get us from where we are today to the place we all need to be. But no matter how many times God reminds us that prayer is for the courageous, God always follows those words of warning with another word: “Be strong and courageous;” God tells Joshua, “ but do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Lead my people into this new land, Joshua, but don't be afraid because
I will be with you everywhere you go. Leave your home, Abraham and Sarah,
but don't be afraid because I will be with you in the journey. Fight the
giant, David, but don't be afraid because I will be with you in the battle.
Turn the other cheek, my disciples. Forgive and take up the cross, but
don't be afraid because I will be with you strengthening your backs and
your resolve. I invite you to do a most daring thing today: open your hearts to God in prayer and listen to the word God has for you. Be strong and brave in prayer trusting that God will be with you wherever God’s word calls you to go. |
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