Reflection This Week
ALL? NO. WHAT
There are times in our lives when what we have to do is simply let
go and let God. That is never easy given our innate need to try to
control what is happening in our lives. We want to do all we can do.
What we often discover is that there is so little we truly can do
because the situation is larger than our expertise. Sometimes that
still does not prevent us from messing around where and when we
should not.
In the end, hopefully before we have caused too much damage, frayed
too many nerves and said or done something foolish, we do what we
should have done from the very beginning: we let go and let God.
Yet, letting go and letting God causes some anguish even when we
willingly do so from the very beginning because we have immediately
realized that the situation is completely out of our hands and we
have already done all we could do.
We find ourselves at our wits end and say to anyone listening or to
no one in particular, “”I guess all I can do is pray.” All? No, pray
is what I must do, what I can do. It is not as if prayer is
something less, something we resort to when all else fails. Pray is
what we are to do whenever. When we are the parent, the patient or
the surgeon, pray is what we can do. We pray to God that our will is
God’s will.
Like Jesus in the Garden, so with us. We want our will to be done,
our will being no suffering, no pain; and if suffering and pain, not
too much and not for too long; and at the end resurrection and new
life. So we pray. We pray hard and long. We enlist as many people as
we can from across the pew to across the street to across the world
to pray with us and for us. And they do.
To be sure, I know all this. I’ve known it all along. To be honest,
there are times when I have said, “I’ll pray for you” or “I’ll keep
you in my prayers” almost as if they were throwaway lines. Like
others I’ve also said to myself, “All I can do is pray” as if
praying were certainly not as important as the work the surgeon, for
instance. I knew better. I certainly know better, understand better,
now that I have had to totally let go, let God and depend on the
power of prayer in a very, very personal way.
We preachers are always quick to note that perhaps the main reason
why we can relate to Jesus on a very personal level is that Jesus
lived and died, suffered pain and anguish, loneliness and
disappointment just like the rest of us. Jesus knows what it is to
be human, to let go and let God, to pray to God with all his might
that his will would be God’s will, and if not, that God would
somehow lead him to resurrection and new life. And God did.
I, too, now more than ever, know what it is to be human, to truly
and immediately let go and let God, to rely on the power of prayer.
Autumn’s brain tumor, successful surgery and continuing recovery
have made me so much more aware of truths I have always taught,
always believed and yet have not fully understood or experienced.
As a parent, I would have preferred to have been the one with the
tumor. As a priest, I have been reminded of what my faith is all
about. As a person, I have been reminded that prayer is often not
only all that I can do, it is what I must do.
Thank you for your prayers, your continued prayers for Autumn. She
truly felt them, felt surrounded by God’s presence, and still does.
So do I. WJP