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Every year when we take the
youth group to Memphis, the highlight of the week is the
trip to Mississippi Boulevard Christian Church. Mississippi
Boulevard is an African American church nestled in the heart
of downtown Memphis. Ask any kid who has gone on this trip
and they will tell you that from the moment they walked in
the door until the moment they walked out, they found
themselves standing on holy ground.
The hospitality of the people of
Mississippi Boulevard is truly amazing. They are genuinely
glad you are there. (Yes, I know that when sixty white
people walk into an all-black church, you are noticed and
they know you are visiting. But I tell you, it’s deeper than
that.) They truly make you feel you are among friends and
that they have been waiting all summer long for you to
arrive. Although we only go once a year, every time we walk
through that door, I feel like I am back home. In fact, the
pastor, Dr. Frank Anthony Thomas, took one look out at the
congregation—a sea of a hundred black faces with an island
of white faces in the middle—and said, “Friends, it looks
like we have ourselves a bit of an ethnic problem, and there
is no such thing as an ethnic problem in the Body of Christ.
So church, get up and go get one of our guests and have them
sit by you, won’t you?” And sure enough, folks got up and
grabbed the hands of those of us sitting there wide-eyed,
wondering what was about to happen, and moved us to another
part of the auditorium. They welcomed us, introduced
themselves, shared their Bibles, their testimonies and even
a bit of their hearts with us. We all knew that this would
be a special night, indeed.
Then the music began. It was
spirited and emotional. It lifted you up so high that you
thought you might be able to actually reach out and touch
God. Both hands and voices were raised to the God that was
surely present in that place. They moved from music to
prayer—and I am not sure you’ve been prayed for until you
have been prayed for by someone at Mississippi Boulevard.
No stone of God’s good creation was left unturned by the
woman who prayed. “Dear Lord,” she prayed, “thank you for
waking me up this morning. Because, Lord, I know there were
some who didn’t wake up this day. But because I woke up this
morning, Lord, I want to ask you to walk with me today,
Lord. I want you to help me live the kind of life that would
give you glory, Lord Jesus. Help me remember what is
important today, Lord. Fill my heart with gladness. Take
away all my sadness. Bring me safely through this day so I
may lay my head on the pillow tonight and thank you one more
time.”
Then it was time for the
preaching. And I’ll tell you, I am not sure there is
anything that can equal the finest preaching of the African
American church. The message literally jumps off the page
and is alive. If you have ever experienced preaching done in
the Black gospel style, then you know that preaching is not
a one-way communication. It is not just the preacher
preaching and the church listening. In the African American
tradition, the sermon is dialogical—it is interactive, an
invitation to give and take. As the sermon rose to its
crescendo, the preacher took off his jacket, loosened his
tie, rolled up his sleeves and began to really bring the
message home. At this point, he had a phrase that he used to
get the congregation to respond. He said, “And the people
said,” to which the congregation responded with a
resounding, “Amen!”
He would borrow from the words
of the prophet, preaching, “Let justice flow like the water
and righteousness like a mighty stream. And the people
said…” “Amen!”
From the life of Jesus: “He
would say, ‘I am the bread of life, and will never leave you
hungry.’ And the people said...” “Amen!”
Or from the old spirituals: “I
believe there is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin-sick soul.
I believe there is a balm in Gilead that makes the wounded
whole. And the people said...” “Amen!” By the end of the
message, everyone in the room was caught up in an “amen
moment.”
Amen. Now there is one of
the words that is a regular part of our religious
vocabulary. We say amen at the end of almost every
prayer we pray. We say it so often, and use it so casually,
that we probably have no idea of the radical thing we are
asserting when we end our prayer with this little word. The
word amen is an ancient word. We find it throughout
the scriptures. It is common to both the Hebrew and the
Christian scriptures. So what does that little word mean? It
is simply a fancy Christian punctuation mark, like a period
or exclamation point. The word amen literally means
“Yes, this is true” or “Let it be so!” My concordance
explains that the Greek translation for the word amen
literally means “a solemn expression of certainty.”
“Let it be so!” So to use
amen at the end of our prayer means we hope, and we
expect, that everything we have just said will come to pass.
“Let it be so!” To be so bold as to say amen at the
end of a prayer means that we aren’t just uttering a bunch
of nice religious words strung together that have no real
meaning in our lives. Rather, to say amen is a signal
that we are prepared for the words we just prayed to have a
real impact on us, on those we pray for and on the world we
live in.
Think about it. When we say
amen after a prayer to bring healing for the bodies and
souls of our family and friends, we signal that we are
expecting healing to come. We may not know when it will
come. We may not know how it will come. But to say amen—to
say “Let it be so!”—is to say we know healing will come. To
say amen after a prayer for healing is to trust that
God will be present with those who are sick. To say amen
at the end of a prayer for healing—to say, “Yes, this is
true. Let it be so!”—is also to signal God that if there is
anything we can do to help bring God’s healing to those we
are praying for, we will do it. To say amen, “Let
this healing actually come,” is to say that if it is needed,
we will visit. We will send cards. We will cook meals, make
calls, hold hands, give hugs, lend an ear or simply be
present. To say amen at the end of a healing prayer
is to say to God that if God needs us to be part of this
healing, we are ready to do our part to be the answer to the
prayer we have just prayed.
The same is true, then, when we
say amen at the end of a prayer for peace. I love to
pray for peace in the world. Perhaps my greatest yearning is
for war to cease, hunger to be abated, justice to be enacted
and peace to be realized. But in thinking about what it
means to say amen at the end of a prayer for peace, I
began to realize that it is really a bold thing to do. To
say amen, to literally say “Let it be so!” at the end
of a prayer for peace, is to be audacious enough to say that
we actually believe that peace, and things that make for
peace, can indeed come to our planet. To say amen at
the end of a peace prayer is to declare that peace is not
just some silly, sentimental pipe dream, but instead it is
to believe that God and God’s people can actually be a part
of reconciliation between the Israelis and the Palestinians.
It is to believe that some day Iraq will not be a place torn
apart by war. It is to say that one day the continent of
Africa will no longer be ravaged by AIDS, poverty,
indebtedness, corruption and terror. To say amen at
the end of a prayer for peace is to really believe that one
day:
The wolf will live with the
lamb,
the leopard will lie down with the goat,
the calf and the lion and the yearling together;
and a little child will lead them.
To say amen
at the end of a prayer for peace is to believe that one
day:
They will beat their swords into
plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks.
Nation will not take up sword against nation,
nor will they train for war anymore.
To say amen at the end of
a prayer for peace is to signal God that I am willing to be
a channel for his peace in the world—that I am willing to go
or to help others go to the war-torn and poverty-stricken
places of the world and be the face of peace, the hands of
justice and the heart of love.
To say amen—to say to
God, “Everything I have just asked for, ‘Let it be
so!’”—changes the very nature of prayer. Prayer can no
longer be just an act of private devotion, but instead it
becomes an invitation to God to be active in our lives and
in our world. Prayer becomes an invitation for God to change
the very direction of our lives. To say amen is to
ask that the words of our prayers be more than just words.
To say amen is to realize that our prayers don’t
change God. They change us.
To end our prayers with an
amen—to literally say, “Let it be so!”—is to ask God to
help us make the longest and toughest journey we may ever
take—the journey from our heads to our hearts. To say
amen is to ask God to help make the faith we profess
with our mouths a reality in our lives. To say amen
is to ask God to make the Christ we know through the creeds
evident in our deeds.
So how do we make this “amen
journey,” this journey from head to heart, from confession
to compassion? How do the prayers we pray, week in and week
out, bear fruit in our lives? What difference does the
prayer we say on Sunday make on Monday?
One a day a young seeker came to
Jesus asking these same questions. He asked Jesus to unlock
the greatest essence of all the spiritual teachings. He
asked, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the
law? You whose life so greatly matches what it is you teach,
tell us what it is that we are supposed to do. How are we
supposed to live? What is the secret to this life, anyhow?”
Jesus
answered this seeker by saying,
Love the Lord your God with all
your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind,
and with all your strength. This is the first and greatest
commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor
as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two
commandments.
So there we have it. The road
map to the “amen journey,” the pathway from head to heart,
the instructions on how to arrive at a personal life that
matches our prayer life. Love God and love your neighbor.
Our private devotion of God must meet the public demands of
the world. Love God. Love your neighbor.
It is tempting, isn’t it? Just
to keep our spiritual life private. To keep our prayer life
personal. We like that first part of Jesus’ counsel: “Love
the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your
soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.”
Truth be told, we’d like to stay there, in the
just-between-me-and-God stuff of our faith. To keep my faith
and my prayer private means I don’t have to worry about the
messy and hurtful things of the world around me. The
suffering. The hunger. The poverty, war, hatred, abuse. Just
as my faith is between me and God, so then the faith of my
neighbor—and the problems of my neighbor, for that
matter—are between my neighbor and God. It is simply not any
of my business.
That is why
Jesus yokes the first part of the commandment to the
second:
Love the Lord your God with all
your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind,
and with all your strength. This is the first and greatest
commandment. And the second is like it: Love your
neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang
on these two commandments.
There is simply no way around it. If we are to make this
“amen journey,” this journey from our head to our heart,
then our private devotion of God must meet the public
demands of the world. Years ago, renowned preacher Dr.
Harry Emerson Fosdick said:
The world has tried to get
rid of Jesus in two ways. The first was to crucify him. That
failed. The risen Lord could win more people than the man of
Nazareth. The second way was to worship him. That has almost
worked.
The same can be said of prayer.
If prayer is simply an act of devotion—only a means of
worship, an opportunity to get a little “Jesus fix” to get
us through the week—then I am afraid we will find that much
of our prayer will not bear the fruit we hope for. But if we
begin to realize what it means to say amen at the end
of a prayer—to honestly say to God, “Let the things I have
asked for, whether it be a change in attitude, a change in
employment or finances, the end of an addiction, the healing
for a body, the safety of a loved one, or an end to hunger,
poverty, oppression and war, let those things actually come
to pass”—then we will find ourselves also asking that God
would make us more open to the change that must then happen
in us and around us if our prayer is to be an act of
transformation rather than just an act of devotion.
This summer we have looked very
closely at the words of the Lord’s Prayer in hopes that the
words would be planted deeper within us and the life to
which this prayer calls us would be experienced through us.
I hope you have come to realize, just as I have, that we
don’t say the seventy words of the Lord’s Prayer week in and
week out just to say them, but that we pray this prayer in
earnest every week in hopes that these seventy words will
indeed lead us to live our lives in ways that match the very
words we hold so dear. We pray these words each week, so
that we may live them each day.
And so tonight, as we come to
the end of our journey through the Lord’s Prayer, we come to
the 71st word—and that word is, of course,
amen. But we can’t just say amen and get out of
here, because to say amen is to say something
profound indeed. When we come to the amen at the end
of the Lord’s Prayer, we are asking God to make this prayer
real in our lives, in the lives of our neighbors, and in the
community and world in which we find ourselves living.
And so, friends, I am going to
ask you to humor me a bit. I am going to ask you to journey
down to Memphis, Tennessee. I want you to imagine that we
are sitting in the pews of the Mississippi Boulevard
Christian Church and that I have been the preacher for the
night. The sermon is coming to a close—just as our series on
the Lord’s Prayer is coming to a close—and it is time to
bring it home.
Brothers and sisters, let us not
forget that when we pray the “Our” of the Lord’s Prayer,
this prayer is a community. The Father is ours…the bread is
ours…and the forgiveness is ours. And the people said…Amen!
Let us remember that when we
pray “Our Father, who art in heaven,” we are indeed all
God’s children—that you are my brothers and sisters, that I
am yours and you are mine—and that in this family, our
heavenly rich, poor, black, white, old and young are all
united. And the people said…Amen!
We best not forget that to pray
that God’s Kingdom would come “on earth as it is in heaven”
means that our faith has as much to do with life before
death as it does with life after death. And the people
said…Amen!
And to pray that we be given
“our daily bread,” we must order our lives in a fashion that
ensures everybody gets some bread, and that nobody has too
much bread, and nobody goes without bread. And the people
said…Amen!
And Lord, help us remember that
when it comes to “forgive,” it is not seven times, but
seventy times seven that we must forgive. And the people
said…Amen!
And when we say “amen,” make it
more than a period at the end of our prayer. Let it be an
invitation to become the change we want to see in the world.
And the people said…Amen!
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