Daily(ish) Blogging in Lent 2016 - Day Ten
Way back in the 1990’s 4 Non Blondes sang a song. “I pray, oh my God do I pray, I pray every single day for a revolution.” I don’t now if Linda Perry was referring to the Lord’s Prayer. But she might have been.
“Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done. On earth.” A revolution. Not just a new Reign, a new regime. Not now God is president or mayor or alderman. No. Not that. No, we pray for a new “rule,” a new order, a radical reorientation. We pray for a New Creation. “Thy Kingdom Come.”
In praying, we name a desire. A longing. Often we are uncertain about its effect. Often we doubt anything will ever change. But we pray. Because, effect or not, this needs to be said: we desire something new. We long for something more than anything we’ve ever imagined. Something beyond. Something heavenly. Please, we pray. Thy will be done.
My church is liturgical. We follow an order of service. Each week we say the Lord’s prayer prior to the serving of holy communion. We remember that Christ was betrayed and killed. We proclaim the absence left at his death after his betrayal, “On the night in which he was betrayed.” We pray, “Thy Kingdom Come.”
Christ was betrayed, killed by religion and the state. Crucified under Pilate. “Thy Kingdom come.” “On earth.”
We also call communion a “foretaste.” A foretaste of the “feast to come.”
At our church, we invite everyone to the foretaste. Everyone. Anyone who desires presence and grace can go forward. That’s all it takes. Desire. You don’t have to believe what we believe or know some secret handshake. We all go up. If we so desire. We eat and drink. And then we go back and either pray or sing or flip through the hymnal or think about lunch until everyone else has gone through the line.
A foretaste. Everyone eats. Everyone gathers. All who pray desperately for a revolution, a new creation, a new start, help, even if we are uncertain about its effect, even if we doubt anything will ever change. We go forward, together. We get a taste. A foretaste. What might come?
Perhaps for the moment, we remember that our desire for a new world, a new reality, where satisfaction is reality, is holy, sanctified, good. Our desire is good. Perhaps we remember Jesus said that the Kingdom is at hand, near by. It’s so close we can touch it. Perhaps that still brings hope. Perhaps we find that the longing of the prayer of Jesus touches the longing of our hearts. Perhaps communion will reignite our desire for a world made new when we've nearly abandoned hope.
What New Creation does your heart desire?
What do you long for on earth?
What, for you, would seem heavenly here and now, what would change?
For what shall we pray?