Lay Led Sermons at UUCOB

Prayer by Jennifer Gilbreath

It can be called many things:  meditation, silence, relaxation, focus.  But I call it Prayer.  I don’t call it prayer because that’s how I was taught.  I don’t call it prayer because that’s what it’s commonly called.  I call it prayer because I love the word – a word of reverence, a word of devotion, a word of the sanctity in self-reflection. 

Given our diversity, some us wonder:  what good is it and what difference does it make?  The answer is simple – the world is a better place because of it.  I think Lon Ray Call said it best

Prayer does not change things; prayer changes people, and people change things.

I was in my 30’s before I realized how little time I spent inside myself, contemplating my actions and my feelings and the universe around me.  Perhaps the catalyst for this awakening was becoming mother of two in just two short years.  Perhaps it was the realization that “wow, I really did quit my job - now who am I?”  I wonder how different my life would have been had I made time for prayer.  Though often described as a passionate, productive person, there are times that I felt disassociated from my life.  It was as if I would watch this person (she can be exhausting!) but not really feel like I was part of her.  My lack of prayerful life left me little reverence, little devotion, and only occasional flickers of self reflection.  I was passionate and productive, but not on a journey toward wholeness.  Put simply, it was time to grow up. 

My first steps on this journey began in a yoga practice.  Have you seen the bumper sticker that says “I wish I were here right now?”  Prayer, in my life, started the day that I learned to turn off my mind and live in the present through yoga.  Soon I was able to take that skill in to my daily life.  Living in the present opens your soul to the pieces of life that, to me, matter the most yet are so frequently overlooked in the busyness of our lives.  When someone takes time to converse with you, are you really there?  Are you thinking about something else while doing a task?  Is your mind ever truly grateful?  Living in the present does not take time, money or physical effort.  All it takes is some training of your mind. 

Lynn Ungar is minister of the Second Unitarian Church in Chicago, Illinois 

The full autumn moon rises, huge and orange and glowing, and I feel my spirit lifting along with it. "Thank you," I say. "Thank you." In the moment of beauty it doesn't matter whom I am thanking or even whether I am heard. It is enough to be grateful and to be a witness to wonder.

A strong sense of gratitude, both spoken and unspoken, is one reason I want to help my children live prayerful lives.  There are many other reasons, but one in particular:  self reflection.  As a parent of children and not babies, I realize that they are truly their own Beings now, with strengths and weaknesses and personality just like the rest of us.  They have begun the process of learning themselves and growing their social circles.  This is not always a smooth process.  For example, when describing their day to me, complex social situations are often difficult for them to express.  There is frustration and “I don’t want to talk about it.”  Perhaps, in moments of prayer, difficult situations can transcend the need for words and conversation and be explored in a more comfortable way for children.  What a wonderful beginning in the human journey toward wholeness. 

Leading a prayerful existence is not as easy as it sounds, at least not for the likes of me.  I still have too many questions about God and associated details for that to be the focus of my prayers.  So as I embark on my journey for a prayerful life, here is my statement of belief:  prayer is reverence and devotion toward contemplation of my life and gratuity for it’s many blessings. 

UU Minister Roger Cowan writes: 

Yet I am a humanist who prays, who begins each morning with devotional readings and a time of silence and prayer. Why do I do this?

I need a quiet time.
I need to express my gratitude.
I need humility.
I pray because—alone—I am not enough and also I am too much.
I express gratitude for the gift of aliveness.
I assert my oneness with you and all humankind and all creation.

When I pray, I acknowledge that God is not me.  

Prayer is not the same for everyone.  It does not have to be complicated.  It does not have to be profound.  And it’s certainly OK for prayer to be deeply personal.  I liked this suggestion:

Daniel Budd is minister of the Unitarian Universalist Church of Buffalo, New York

The best advice on prayer I have yet found was given long ago by Jesus of Nazareth. When Jesus taught his disciples to pray, he said that prayer was nothing to flaunt about or show off. It is a personal matter, an intimate aspect of our living, and not the public proof of our righteousness. Prayer begins in the heart, that secret place within us all.

…Prayer is the admission that we are fragile, fallible, and finite. Prayer is giving up, a way of creating a place within ourselves for this Mystery to dwell. Prayer is a covenant we make to be of service. Prayer is a way of living with the very questions that perplex us.

Prayer is an opening of the human heart. When Jesus taught his disciples to pray, he said, "Pray like this," simply, from the heart.

All prayer is longing, a breath, a reprieve, a celebration, a thanksgiving.  It is the very grown up acknowledgement that you are on a journey of wholeness, not busyness.   Prayers come in many forms.  There are please, thank you, and damn.  They are gimme, oops, ouch, wow, thanks and my personal favorite “gee, you look great today!”.  Prayer is simple, it is ritual and it is the center of a spiritual life.

I’d like to close with a Zen writing by Osho: 

When the mind knows, we call it knowledge.
When the heart knows, we call it love.
When the Being knows, we call it prayer.