Thursday, March 3, 2011

Whose Prayer?

Here’s another one of those thoughts that I have that may not be terribly popular. It has to do with how we pray and with the essence of prayer. And sorry - this is a bit longer than usual.

The great teacher Jeshua of Nazareth almost never answered a question directly (Another sorry, about the Josh thing. Folks tend to get flaky about his popular name if you do anything less than take him literally. So, because I am going to say something quite possibly viewed as blasphemy, I won’t use it). In fact, I read somewhere that of the nearly 200 questions put to him, he directly answered only three! Furthermore, when teaching a lesson, he invariably taught – as in he never varied from this pattern – through paradox, metaphors and parables; stories that were intentionally puzzling to the listener. Yet against this backdrop, nearly every person I know views the “Lord’s Prayer” as a discrete formula to be taken literally at face value, or at least to be memorized precisely.

Why? Why would his pattern be different for this one lesson? Remember, this is the same man who actually ridiculed formal prayer as either empty or something tantamount to show-boating. Always the consummate Rabbi, what if Joshua was staying true to form? If we suspend our literalist thinking for a moment and examine this instruction – his answer to the request, “Master, teach us to pray,” – through the lens of the other 99% of his teaching style, we just might see something else. Let’s start from the top.

“Our Father in heaven.” As he continually taught, the kingdom of god is now, here, and most importantly within you and me. Why then a reference to a heaven (elsewhere)? Might this instead be a reference to the kingdom among us and within us and not to a divided world of heaven and earth or heaven and hell? Jeshua was fervently interested in having his followers see the kingdom in the here and now. Furthermore, I am told (though I have never read the original text) that his word used for father was the child-familiar equivalent of “daddy” again suggesting that such a “heaven,” if not inside us already, may be closer and more accessible than the priests wanted us to believe. Then, almost as a wake up call he adds, “Thy kingdom come.” Might this perhaps be a declarative or even stated as a done deal? But wait, there’s more.

“Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” follows in the same vein. This is spoken into a time, not too unlike our own time, when whatever might be “god’s will” is clearly NOT being done. The truth is that human willfulness was the rule of the day (and still is). Thus this phrase and its later partner, “forgive our sins as we forgive others,” seem most surely to be a Jeshuan trap. It is more like a double trap, actually. First of all, attaching our forgiveness to our own praxis of forgiving is quite simply ludicrous. Our egos have very little ability or capacity for true forgiveness – they are too concerned with being right and better-than. But secondly, and more importantly, following a literal path we are trapped into hoping that god’s forgiveness could or should be earned by anything we do. The teacher never said either of those – in fact he always said exactly the opposite, in nearly every story, parable or teaching. You are already forgiven; you can't do anything to improve your chances; the kingdom is with(in) you.

So what could possibly be going on with this “how to” manual for prayer? There are two killer requests that need to be addressed before we answer that. “Give us our daily bread” and “Don’t put us to the test.” One of the greatest failed test stories in the bible is the manna in the desert. Our daily bread most likely refers to the daily allotment while in the desert during their flight from Egypt. The tribes were instructed to trust god and to take only enough for one day. Any more than “enough” would rot and turn poisonous, which of course, owing to our human scarcity model, was exactly what happened. Test failed!

Dare we even pray not to be put to the test – the test of our trust in god? C’mon, our very lives are an antithesis of that 24/7! How often do we free fall into our trust in the divine? I don’t know about you but I regularly trust and rely on me (and my effort, intelligence and perseverance) more than I remember to trust and rely on god.

But knowing this, our great teacher must have been lining up a litany of human errors to show us how praying should not be concerned with our human worries. What’s more, our prayer should not – cannot – be about our trying to get it right! We have not gotten it right, ever. It is almost – from this perspective – a mockery of our neediness for rules and boundaries of right and wrong (“Master, teach us the right way to pray – the only way to pray, the way that if we do it correctly, we will be assured of being better than everyone else.”) So he just stacked up a short list of our most stupid and non-spirit-filled errors, for fun! “Look guys, don’t even go there, no one can teach you how to pray, not even my cousin John. Prayer is about getting to human nothingness in order to let in the divine. Empty yourselves and you will be closer to real praying.”

Unfortunately, it is extremely difficult to teach the simplest things. It is the conundrum faced by all the great spiritual teachers (who, by the way, all used koan, metaphor and parables to confuse and get their students out of their heads). The instruction which I can most likely envision from Jeshua – to sit down, shut up and listen –would not have made good press for whomever was writing the story. So we got this… this, “Lord’s Prayer” concoction. I am beginning to seriously doubt that it was OUR lord’s prayer – ever – it is so out of context with the rest of his teaching. Unless, of course, he was following his standard formula of confusing the logic out of us. You will have to decide that one for yourself. Meanwhile, you’ll have to excuse me – I think I need to go empty my cup once more – it is too full to receive anything else!