Putting on a Show -- The fifth sermon on the Sermon on the Mount

Matthew 6:1-18

We live in a consumer-driven society. Everything from education to religion is a commodity that can be bought and sold, which means that we can easily become consumers of religious commodities. When this happens we cease being disciples of Jesus, and become customers in search of the best deal. We in the “church business” know this to be true, because we go to seminars and workshops and read books that tell us how to market ourselves and create entertaining “worship services” so we can compete with the brand next door. None of this is new, but the resources available to us today are increasingly sophisticated.

Now, some religious institutions do a better job than others at creating attractive venues. And, although there are lots of media-savvy megachurches out there today, no one has done it with quite the flair for the dramatic as Aimee Semple McPherson. Back in the 1920s and 1930s, Aimee’s illustrated sermons and radio ministry reached millions. Not only was she a preacher, she was a celebrity, who drew huge crowds and lots of media-coverage wherever she went. My mother has told me how my atheist grandfather loved to listen to her sermons on the radio as they drove home from her grandparents’ home on Sunday evenings. Now, Aimee didn’t change my grandfather’s mind about religion, but he was entertained. What made Aimee successful is that she knew how to compete with Hollywood, and many others have learned her lessons as well.

While church needn’t be boring, the message that comes to us in the Sermon on the Mount, which we return to this morning after going with Jesus to the Mount of Transfiguration, seems to challenge this consumerist vision of religion. As we’ve been making our way through the Sermon on the Mount, we’ve seen Jesus challenge our habits and our world views, and he doesn’t let us off the hook in this morning’s gospel reading from Matthew 6.

The Sermon on the Mount challenges us to take the narrow path, the one that leads into the desert where both privation and temptation await (Matt. 4:1-11). The path that Jesus takes is very different from the consumer-driven religion that prevails in our time. Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest and writer on spirituality, suggests that we live in an “adolescent culture,” and that this culture influences our faith expressions. According to Fr. Rohr, there are two halves to our lives. The first half of life is focused on identity formation and the search for security. That is, the focus of this first stage of life is the self. We all go through this stage, because it’s essential to our development. But, unfortunately, too often we stay put in this first half reality. As the book of Hebrews puts it – we stay with the milk rather than moving onto the meat. In the first half of life, our focus tends to be on the boundaries. We often see the world in either/or categories. We do this because we’re still forming our identities. But, the point of the journey isn’t staying put in this identify formation stage, but rather to move into the second stage of life, where we’re ready to take risks and see the world in more both/and terms. We grow spiritually and intellectually, because we’ve experienced deprivation and suffering, and we’ve not only survived, but we have thrived. Rohr’s point is that death comes before resurrection [Richard Rohr, Falling Upward, Jossey Bass, 2011 – forthcoming, pp. 4ff].

1. Beware the Hypocrites

In a consumer-driven reality, it’s easy to find ourselves “playing church.” That is, we find ourselves putting on a religious show to catch the attention – not of God – but of our neighbor. Worship can be a powerful drama that changes lives if the audience is God. But when we perform our faith to catch the eye of our neighbors, then according to Jesus we have become hypocrites. Jesus says to the disciples, and to us:

Be careful that you don’t practice your religion before people to draw their attention. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven (Mt. 6:1).

Although consumer-driven religion seems to be thriving, the majority of those people leaving the church or who believe that the church is of no use in their spiritual journeys, point to hypocrisy as the trigger. According to the polls, they like Jesus, but not the institution that claims his name.

Now, it might help us to better understand Jesus’ message if we know that in the first century, a hypocrite was an actor. And in the religious realm, a hypocrite was one who put on a religious mask so that their piety might be seen by others. Jesus says that when you engage in public acts of piety such as giving alms, praying, or fasting, hoping that you’ll be seen by your neighbors, then that’s all the reward you’ll get. That reward may seem attractive, after all, politicians love to invoke God’s support and blessing on their actions. In fact, we expect this of them. We wonder about politicians that don’t wear their religion on their sleeves. As for the rest of us, at least in times past, many people hoped to derive a social benefit from their church membership. In days past if you wanted to get ahead in society you had to be a member of not just any church, but the right church. Not only that, you needed to be seen as a pillar of the church. But, Isaiah’s answer to those who complained that God wasn’t seeing their fast speaks to this view of religion.

Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day, and oppress all your workers. Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist. Such fasting as you do today will not make your voice heard on high (Isa. 58:3-4).

The world is watching us, and they become disillusioned when we say we love God and neighbor, and then support torture or advocate balancing the budget on the backs of the poor.


2. Practicing True Faith

In this selection from the Sermon on the Mount Jesus addresses the issue of public piety, focusing on giving alms, praying in public, and fasting. The message is really clear – if we do these things so that we’ll be noticed by our neighbor, then that’s all the benefit we’ll receive. It appears that what’s at issue here is one’s motivation.

So, Jesus says – when it comes to giving of alms, something we’ve been asked to do this morning in response to the disaster in Japan – offer your alms without making a big deal about it. Don’t announce the amount. Don’t ask for a plaque. Just give from the heart in response to God’s call to love our neighbors as we love ourselves.

And as for prayer, when you pray in public don’t design the prayer to attract words of praise for your eloquence. Now, should someone offer a word of thanks for your words, its okay to receive that word with grace and humility, but Jesus says to us – don’t let that be your motive. In case we need some guidance in this, Jesus offers us a model of prayer. He tells the disciples – pray like this – and offers to them the foundation of the prayer we pray each week. Although there is great beauty to this prayer, it’s also simple and straightforward. It calls on us to pledge our total allegiance to God, whom we are to declare holy. We pledge our service to God’s kingdom, and then make our requests of God – simple requests of food, forgiveness, and deliverance from temptation and evil.

And when it comes to fasting, brush your hair and put on decent clothes, so that no one will know you are depriving yourself of food or pleasure. The point of this act of asceticism, is not to show everyone how “spiritual” we are, but instead, it is designed to put us in a better position to encounter the presence of God.

Church of Christ pastor Jerry Taylor puts it all in perspective:

Spiritual power is not based on the approval rating we receive for the performance of our pious acts of religion. We become spiritually impotent when we allow our righteousness to walk around on the broken crutches of religious showmanship. [Jerry Taylor, “May I have Your Attention,” in Preaching the Sermon on the Mount, (Chalice Press, 2007), Kindle loc. 2012-16.]

3. Secret Blessings

There is a constant theme in this passage. Jesus seems rather insistent that the God who sees in secret, will bless us in secret. If we’re willing and able to move from the first half of life into the second, then we can leave behind matters of identity and security, and begin to move into maturity. The blessings that come from being in the presence of God may not be as apparent to our neighbors, but if we’re willing to take the narrow path, the one Scott Peck called the “road less traveled,” then we’ll begin to see our lives and our relationships transformed.

As Richard Rohr suggests, in the first half of life, we focus on the externals – on the law, correct rituals, and correct beliefs. While these are not bad things – they help us in creating containers that will allow us to share in life changing encounters with God – they shouldn’t be the end of the journey. Instead, as we move into the second half of life, we will find ourselves caught up in the burning presence of God. That is, like Moses’ burning bush, “authentic God experience always ‘burns’ you, yet does not destroy you” (Ex. 3:2-3) [Rohr, p. 13]. Yes, we can be content with the show, but if we are content with the show then we’ll miss out on the secret blessings of mystical union with God.

 

Preached by:

Dr. Robert D. Cornwall

Pastor, Central Woodward Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

Troy, Michigan

First Sunday of Lent

March 13, 2011

The Lord's Prayer: Praying for the Kingdom

The second excerpt from my book Ultimate Allegiance: The Subversive Nature of the Lord's Prayer (Energion Publications, 2010), has appeared at EthicsDaily.com.  I invite you to check out the excerpt -- read the complete piece at EthicsDaily, and then return to offer your thoughts.   Oh, and I won't be disappointed if you decide to buy a copy!

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The Lord's Prayer: Praying for the Kingdom

By: Bob Cornwall

Posted: Monday, January 10, 2011 5:38 am

The Lord's Prayer, as Matthew presents it, asks that God's kingdom would come, as God's will is done on earth as it is done in heaven. What happens on earth, Jesus suggests, mirrors what is happening in the heavens.

It would seem that as we make this prayer to God, we are recognizing that with the incarnation, the kingdom of God has taken root in this world. As Jesus puts it, the kingdom is in our midst.

If we believe that the kingdom of God is more than getting into the next life, so that the kingdom has "this world" implications, then what is it that we're requesting of God? What is the nature of this kingdom that we're asking God to reveal in our midst?

As we consider these questions, it's important to remember that the kingdom isn't a minor focus. It is instead the focus of Jesus' ministry. Everything he did, whether he was teaching or healing, revealed to the world the nature of God's reign. Therefore, it shouldn't surprise us that this petition stands at the very heart of this prayer.  (To continue reading click here. 

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For more information about the book, or to purchase a copy, click here to go to the publisher's catalog page.   

Ultimate Allegiance -- New Book on Lord's Prayer

I want to announce the forthcoming publication of my book on the Lord's Prayer.  It is entitled Ultimate Allegiance:  The Subversive Nature of the Lord's Prayer.  The book is part of a series of books being published by Energion Publications that caries the title Areopagus:  Critical Christian Issues and is edited by Allan Bevere and David Allan Black.

To give you a sense of the purpose of the book, here is the lead paragraph from the publisher's announcement:

"Prayer changes things." It's a common saying, and too often Christian discussion of prayer deals only with how we can change other things and other people through prayer. But what if prayer is much more that we imagine? What if it is also the means of correcting our relationship to the Creator and at the same time of changing our relationships with one another? Perhaps prayer can ultimately help transform our theology, what we believe about God, into character and action.

The book will be available in November, but you can pre-order now -- along with my bible study guide on the Book of Ephesians.  Click here to find out more the book and about ordering copies.  Although there are not study questions, it can easily be adapted for such a purpose.

A Labor Day Prayer

This morning, in place of the Pastoral Prayer, I chose to share this Prayer for those who Labor.  The prayer comes from Chalice Worship. 

God of the rough-worn hands, as we honor workers this day,
let us not forget those whose work is without honor:

those homemakers who watch over children and homes
but are not recognized as workers because they are not paid;
those who are forced out of jobs by corporate changes,
those forced into early retirement,
those who are denied employment because of their age;
those who live far from home,
struggling to save a bit of money to sent to their loved ones;
those who must work illegally in order to survive;
those who lose jobs because employers use undocumented labor.

Christ of the aching back, you worked the rough wood,
you walked the long and dusty roads,
you know the bitter thirst of the poor.
Let our thirst become a passion for justice.
Help us to work toward transformation of economic policies
that allow only a few nations to hoard the world's wealth,
policies that pay women as only half a person or less,
policies that do not recognize the worth of labor exactly without pay

Spirit of creative power, move among us this day.
Heal the wounds we carry because of jobs we hate but must do,
jobs we want but cannot have.
Heal all those who labor to survive.
Renew in us our sense of vocation.
Help us discern your Presence in even the lowliest tasks we face. Amen 

(Chalice Worship, Colbert Cartwright & O.I. Harrison, eds, Chalice Press, 1997, p. 176)

There's Still Hope -- A Lectionary Meditation

Hosea 1:2-10


Colossians 2:6-15

Luke 11:1-13

There’s Still Hope

Persistence – that is the message of Jesus’ parable in Luke 11. Just after teaching the disciples an abridged form of what we know as the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus tells a parable about a man who wakes up his neighbor at midnight so he can feed a friend who has dropped by unexpectedly – in the middle of the night – and is now hungry. In that culture, if someone drops by, you feed them, but what do you do when the cupboard is bare? You go knock on your neighbor’s door – sort of like Sheldon knocking on Leonard’s or Penny’s door (Big Bang Theory). The neighbor might not get up and help out from friendship, but if you knock long enough, well then perhaps the neighbor will give in, get up, and get the bread. Of course, God isn’t like that neighbor who has to be pestered into helping.

One of the stanzas of the Lord’s Prayer speaks of forgiveness – something that we often approach God desiring. The concern that is present in the minds of many is whether God will be receptive, and what that will require of us. In the parable, the suggestion is – if we ask, it will be given to us – so there is still hope.

Hope is something that appears absent from the Hosea passage. It’s the 8th century, Jehu is on the throne of Israel, and the situation is not good. The people of Israel have been playing the whore and have flirted with the gods of their neighbors, choosing to reject God’s ways. So, God sends another prophet into their midst – Hosea – and God decides to illustrate the troubles Israel faces by directing Hosea to marry a prostitute. Being the obedient one that he is, Hosea marries Gomer and with her he has three children (though since she is a prostitute you can never be sure that the children are his). Each child has a name that reflects God’s displeasure with the northern kingdom of Israel. The first is Jezreel, a son whose name reflects God’s decision to take the kingdom of Israel at the valley of Jezreel. The second child is a daughter named Lo-Rahama, whose name suggests that there will be no pity or forgiveness for Israel (though God will forgive Judah – at least for now). Finally, there is a son, Lo-Ammi, whose name signifies God’s judgment — “You are not my people, and I am not your God.”

The Hosea passage is so full of hopelessness and judgment. God has decided that enough is enough. Having acted as a prostitute, the nation has followed after other gods and lords, and so God will allow them to suffer the consequence. Having had enough, God is casting them off on their own. Only the prophet offers a sliver of hope in verse ten. We hear this word of restoration, this promise that Israel will be like the sand of the sea – too many to count – and though once called “Not My People,” now they will be called “Children of God.” The hope lies in the restoration of the whole people, as Judah and Israel are gathered together, taking possession of the land once more under one head (vs. 11). There is hope yes, but difficult times remain. Perhaps then the key is in Jesus’ parable – be persistent – persevere – hold on to the one who gives good things to God’s children.

The Colossian passage draws everything together. It is a call for the children of God to hold fast to Christ, in whom we are to be rooted and built up. There is a warning here – reminiscent of the word to/through Hosea. Be careful about whom you listen to – philosophy, empty deceit, human tradition. You can see from this list that the author of this letter is writing to Gentile Christians who are struggling to make sense of the differences between the gospel and the theologies of those outside the faith. Instead of attending to these other voices, listen for Christ. Listen to him because it is in him that the fullness of deity dwells bodily, and it is he who reigns over all rule and authority. Again we see the echoes of Hosea – there is hope, but you must put your trust in God who is revealed in Christ.

In Christ, we are circumcised spiritually, putting off the flesh – the way of the world. It is in baptism that we identify ourselves with Christ, our sins and trespasses being buried with him, and then raised again, the power of death no longer hanging over us, as we embrace God’s purpose through faith. In Christ, the legal record that has hung over our heads is cleared, having been nailed to the cross.

What do we make of this message? Especially we who take a more progressive view of God and God’s relationship with creation? We may be troubled with Hosea’s use of his marriage as prophetic example – and God’s command that he do so. We may like the promise that if we ask God, then God will respond because God has to be a better parent than any human parent – but does that mean that God is like a vending machine, giving us whatever we want without any discernment? And then there is Colossians, which could be taken in an anti-Jewish way.

But however you deal with the particulars, there is a promise here, a promise that there is hope of reconciliation and restoration. God is good and faithful and will make a way for us to experience a restored relationship with God and creation. Central to the promise is the statement that in Christ the legal slate is wiped clean. It may be that we must first repent – turning from the way of “whoredom.” In another passage from Luke, we get the idea that repentance is involved in this process (Luke 17:1-4). Repentance, of course, is not groveling before God, grinding our knees into the gravel. Instead, it is a decision to walk faithfully with the God who offers us peace and reconciliation. It is a decision to live differently – even if we stumble and require forgiveness time after time. Still, there is that word of hope!

Reposted from:  [D]mergent -- a new Disciples oriented blog, for which I write this weekly reflection

Does God Know the Future? (Bruce Epperly)

If God knows everything that has happened and will happen, and God is all powerful, does prayer matter?  This is the question that Bruce Epperly ponders in today's posting.  It is an important question that too often we evade.  So, take a read and engage Bruce in conversation.

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Does God Know the Future?

Why Does it Matter for Those Who Pray?

Bruce Epperly

When I was a child, my mother posted a magnet on our refrigerator that proclaimed, “Prayer changes things.” I have always taken this motto seriously. While I have many ways of praying – I use words, images, energy, touch, and silence at various times – I pray for things, large and small, knowing that within God’s reign and the interdependence of life, there may, in fact, be no small things.

As a practical and constructive theologian, I am interested in how our beliefs shape our practices and everyday lives. Accordingly, the question of divine foreknowledge is important to me. Does the fact that God knows – or does not know – everything in advance shape our faith and practices of prayer? In this essay, my answer is a resounding “yes” and, more than that, I assert that a God who does not know the future – a God for whom the future is open – inspires us to pray and claim our role as God’s partners in changing the world. In contrast, a God who knows everything in advance renders our prayers unnecessary.

Classical theology asserts that God knows the plot lines of our stories before we were conceived. As Rick Warren states, God has planned all the important events of our lives without our input. God holds the past, present, and future, according to classical theology, in an eternal now. Divine omniscience and omnipotence are intimately connected: because God’s knowledge is always active and never passive – God creates but does not receive. Accordingly, we can add nothing new to God’s experience. More interestingly, if God perfectly knows and decides all that will occur in changeless eternity, then nothing new can happen to God and God can do nothing new in the ongoing history of the universe. If divine knowledge is complete and divine action is perfect, any variation of either on God’s part is unnecessary and would imply the existence of imperfection in God’s nature.

What are the implications of divine foreknowledge theologically? First, our prayers really make no difference to God or anyone else. God already knows – and may have planned – what will happen. Prayer is entirely for our sakes and changes nothing in the condition of those for whom we pray. Our belief that our prayers make a difference is an illusion, grounded in our temporal existence. Second, and more radical, a God who knows and plans everything in advance may be described as “all powerful,” but such a God actually has finite power, since God can do nothing to alter God’s knowledge or plan. God is caught up in an eternal “Groundhog Day” in which God experiences the same universe and same finite events over and over again, with nothing new possible.

I assert that a God who neither knows – nor can determine – the future in its entirety not only makes the statement “prayer changes things” meaningful, but also has more options and influence than a God who knows and determines everything in advance. To clarify, there are two ways of looking at omniscience: 1) knowing everything – past, present, and future – as actual or 2) knowing everything in the past as actual and knowing the future in terms of possibility, but not actuality. I opt for (2) and believe that it allows us to interact creatively with a living God, and not a fully determined, unchanging God. God knows everything up to this moment in time and the landscape of future possibility, but not the actuality of what will occur.

To summarize, if God neither knows nor determines the future in its entirety, then our prayers add to the universe and support God’s ever-present aim at wholeness, beauty, love, and healing. Our prayers open the door for new possibilities of well-being for others and allow God to be more creative in bringing shalom to our lives and the world. Our prayers shape, to some degree, others’ experiences and, thus, allow for a greater influx of divine energy and possibility. Second, a God for whom the future is open can do new things, explore new possibilities, and shape the world in unexpected ways in partnership with the ongoing universe. God is not a prisoner of God’s past decisions. This is truly a living God: even though we have real freedom and creativity that places limits on the expressions of divine activity, God has infinite resources to respond to the world as it is and will be. Ironically, a God who is limited in some ways has more power and creativity than one who has determined everything in advance. God is alive, creative, novel, and creative yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

In an open universe in which creativity and freedom and real, our prayers are important: they shape us and others, and enable us to be God’s partners in healing the world.

Bruce Epperly is Professor of Practical Theology and Director of Continuing Education at Lancaster Theological Seminary and co-pastor of Disciples United Community Church in Lancaster, PA. He is the author of seventeen books, including Holy Adventure: 41 Days of Audacious Living and Tending to the Holy: The Practice of the Presence of God in Ministry, written with Kate Epperly.

June 7, 2010 - Is Google Making Us Ignore God?

Came across a thought-provoking article today by Ernesto Tinajero on Sojourners Magazine’s “God’s Politics” blog. It's called "Is Google Making Us Ignore God?"

Here’s an excerpt:

“God calls on us to meditate on God and God’s word. However, does the fast intake of information from TV, film, and especially the Internet make us less likely to experience God? According to new research, electronic gadgets actually change how we think and focus. Nicholas Carr famously asked ‘Is Google Making Us Stupid?’ Will it also make us ignore God?...

The theological perspective is that this busyness of the business of modern life draws us into the world of Martha and away from sitting at the feet of Jesus. We are being called to distraction, and the quiet, still voice of God goes unnoticed – unnoticed in the flood of ever new links to follow, unnoticed in the hectic pace of modern life, unnoticed in the flood of events, information, and distractions. Through it all, God continues to call us to sweet voice of prayer. Yes, the call I am heeding –returning to simplicity and healthier life – may seem too simple to make a difference. Yet, does it make it any less true?”

I wonder what the implications of this 24/7 deluge of distractions are for our immune system, and for the cancers like lymphoma that sometimes beset it?

Judaeo-Christian religion has a time-honored solution: it’s known as sabbath. Periodically creating for ourselves islands of spiritual peace – places and times for encountering the divine – ought to be central to any long-term program of recovery.

Praying for Publicity

I'm probably playing into Franklin Graham's hands.  He seems to like the spotlight, and his disinvitation to pray at the Pentagon has made his day.  He's made all the rounds, played up the issue, said that Islam "gets a pass" from the President, complains that Christians are being persecuted -- and on and on it goes.

The latest is that on Thursday, Mr. Graham, who seems to want to reach the same level of importance as his famous father, gathered with a few of his friends and prayed on the sidewalk outside the Pentagon.  Following this, according to news reports, he gathered the press together at the September 11 monument (apparently one of the few places that cameras are allowed on Pentagon property), and reiterated his complaints. 

I know Franklin knows the passage, but just in case he doesn't I want to share words of Jesus with him. 

‘And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.*

 ‘When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard because of their many words.   (Matthew 6:5-7 NRSV).

What Difference Does Prayer Make? A Progressive Vision (Bruce Epperly)

Bruce Epperly continues his discussion of a Spirit-centered Progressive theology by taking up the question of prayer.  How does a Progressive/liberal Christian understand prayer if supernaturalism is removed?   Bruce, who is rooted in Process Theology, takes up first the issue of intercessory prayer (this week) and then in a follow up piece will take a look at the impact of prayers of thanksgiving on our well-being (next Tuesday).  If you've not read it yet, take a look at Bruce's take on evangelism from a progressive perspective, which was published here last week.  I invite you to read Bruce's essay, reflect upon it, comment and then share the news with others.

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What Difference Does Prayer Make?

A Progressive Vision

Bruce G. Epperly

When I was a child, my mother posted a magnet on the refrigerator that proclaimed that “prayer changes things.” Regularly on Sundays, we listened to the bombastic intercessions of Oral Roberts and the gentle whisperings of Kathryn Kuhlman, both of whom believed that our ardent prayers could produce supernatural interventions to lengthen legs, restore eyesight, and cure cancer. To this day, I take prayer seriously; and although I no longer believe in divine supernatural intervention, suspending the laws of nature to prevent an earthquake or cure end stage cancer, I believe that prayer makes a difference in our spiritual, emotional, relational, physical, and planetary well-being.

As a progressive Christian, I believe that God is present in every moment of experience, not as a coercive external force, determining everything that happens without our input, but as gentle moment within the events of our lives, luring us toward healing, wholeness, and beauty. I believe that each moment of experience is the result of multiple causes, including the influence of DNA, family of origin, recent past decisions, unconscious factors, physical and emotional condition, spiritual life, relationships, economic factors, and environmental factors. Within this multitude of constantly changing factors, God is moving, shaping, guiding, energizing, and providing the best possibilities for health and wholeness, given the current situation.

While there are many understandings or practice of prayer, I see prayer as our creative and affirmative desire to be in alignment with and embody God’s vision for our lives and the world around us. If God is constantly inspiring us with, to use the words Romans 8, “sighs too deep for words,” then prayer awakens us to God’s deep presence and enables us to live out God’s vision, to a greater or lesser degree, in our lives. Prayer is a matter of call and response – God calls and we respond; and we call and God responds.

Now many liberal Christians see prayer as extending no further than our noses. It is purely a personal experience, bringing calm and acceptance, and spiritually joining us with those for whom we pray. Still, this liberal understanding actually suggests something more than a purely spiritual or existential experience. If mind, body, and spirit are interconnected, feelings of peace and calm arising from the practice of prayer will, to some degree, shape our physical condition in positive ways even if they don’t invoke God’s presence. Still, I want to suggest something more. This week, I will focus on intercessory prayer; next week, I will consider the impact of prayers of thanksgiving on our overall well-being. I believe prayer changes things, not absolutely, but relatively in the lively call and response of God and humankind, appropriate to our particular context and condition.

In a dynamic and interdependent universe, our thoughts and feelings radiate beyond ourselves into the ambient universe. Each moment of experience arises from the universe and contributes to the ongoing universe. I believe that our prayers create a positive field of force or healing around those for whom we pray. Accordingly, our prayers become one factor in shaping the experience of those for whom we pray. Our prayers are not all-determining, but provide a creative influence on others, along with the physical, emotional, relational, and spiritual factors shaping their lives.

But, there is more to prayer than merely our impact on others. I believe that prayer makes a difference to God. In creating a positive force of healing around others, we open the door for God to be more present in their lives and more able to provide more energetic and life-transforming possibilities. While we can – and should – never quantify the power of prayer, in an interdependent universe, prayer is a factor in healing and wholeness of persons, communities, institutions, and the planet. Prayer matters to God.

In contrast to the televangelists of my childhood and contemporary faith healers such as Benny Hinn and Richard Roberts, I see prayer operating in accordance with the principles of causation, characteristic of the universe. Neither our prayers nor divine activity suspend the causal relationships of the world; rather, they work within them, activating healing energies and, occasional quantum leaps of physical, emotional, and spiritual transformation. In the dynamic divine-human call and response, healings can occur and lives can be changed.

I believe liberal Christians have often failed to take prayer seriously precisely because their only understanding of divine causation was supernatural in nature. Today, quantum physics, mind-body medicine, complementary and global health, and medical research allow us to understand the power of prayer in new and creative ways, including the appropriation of Jesus’ healings in the ministry of the church. Progressives can reclaim the power of prayer and divine healing; we can be liberated from conservative and supernatural understandings of prayer and divine activity. Progressives need to be imaginative in our prayers: expecting more of ourselves and more of God, and opening to God in new ways of partnership with God through prayer, healing touch, meditation, affirmations, and social concern.

Our prayers are neither omnipotent nor impotent; but still they can transform our lives and the world. Prayer truly can make a difference for us, for those for whom we pray, and for God.

Bruce Epperly is a seminary professor and administrator, pastor, theologian, and spiritual companion. He is the author of seventeen books, including Holy Adventure: 41 Days of Audacious Living, a response to Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Life. His Tending to the Holy: The Practice of the Presence of God in Ministry, written with Katherine Gould Epperly, was selected Book of the Year by the Academy of Parish Clergy. (http://www.bruceepperly.com/)

Spirit-Centered Progressive Christianity (Bruce Epperly)

Bruce G. Epperly returns today with the third of a series of guest posts lifting up the potential and possibilities of a progressive Christianity.  He began with a call to a "passionate progressive revival" and then offered a response to Rick Warren's "Purpose Driven Life."  This morning Bruce describes ways in which Progressive Christians, who are good at developing the mind and the hands, can develop their spiritual hearts.

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A recent Pew Center Religion and Public Life found that 50% of mainstream Christians claimed to have had mystical experiences or experiences of self-transcendence. The study suggests that there is a mystic next to you in church each week, or that you might be a mystic yourself. Yet, despite the reality of deep spiritual experiences within their congregations, moderate and progressive Christians seldom share these experiences publicly in church. And, seekers who are looking for spiritual growth often discover that progressive churches are the last places to find it! In progressive churches, people come out of the closet about everything – except their spiritual experiences and witness to God’s presence in their lives.

I believe that the future growth and impact of progressive Christianity involves claiming a holistic spirited-centered faith, which overcomes the current dualism of spirituality and social justice among progressives. Progressive Christianity typically sees itself as a faith involving head and hands, that is, creative theological reflection and committed social activism. To complete the circle of faith, progressive Christians need to reclaim the “heart” of Christianity (to paraphrase Marcus Borg) found in intimacy with God and the natural or non-human world. Progressives need to claim their vocation as spirit-persons, to quote Borg, as a complement to their vocation as prophetic activists. A truly dynamic, life-transforming faith over the long haul depends on a creative synthesis of head, heart, and hands, or theological reflection, spiritual experience and practice, and social activism.

The prophetic tradition and the ministry of Jesus provide inspiration for the holistic, spirit-centered faith that progressives need in order to confront the current cultural and global challenges. The prophetic ability to imagine an alternative reality to the current unjust social structure, as Walter Brueggemann asserts, often was the result of profound mystical experiences. When Jeremiah protests his youth, God whispers to him, “don’t be afraid, I am with you.” Isaiah’s mystical experience in the temple – his encounter with the Holy One and his vision of God’s glory enlivening the whole earth – gave him the courage, despite his sense of distance from God, to say “yes” to God’s call. In line with this tradition, Jesus regularly took time for prayer and meditation as essential to his ministry of radical hospitality, healing, and spiritual transformation.

Martin Luther King once said that the church should be a headlight and not a taillight in the quest for social justice. Today, progressive Christians are called to be leaders, shining a light on the creative integration of spirituality and justice, and the quest for personal, social, and global healing. Progressives have a theology that encourages spiritual experience: a sense that God is still speaking, that God is present throughout the world, and that the world reveals God’s presence. What we need is to claim this theology in life transforming ways. We can go beyond Enlightenment rationalism to embrace God’s revelation in all things – in our daily lives, in our quest for justice, in the non-human world.

Progressives need to claim practices of spiritual transformation to complement and deepen their commitment to social transformation. A transformed world requires a renewed and transformed mind, or vision of reality, as the Apostle Paul says. In recent years, there has been a growing interest in spiritual practices such as prayer, healing, hospitality, service, etc. Persons such as Diana Butler Bass, Dorothy Bass, Stephanie Paulsell, Barbara Brown Taylor, Philip Newell, Craig Dykstra, and Bruce Epperly have provided insightful and accessible resources for personal and congregational transformation.

But, where shall we progressives begin our quest for a holistic integration of spirituality and social transformation? Let me suggest a few guideposts in spirit-centered progressive spirituality:

• A recovery of prayer as a pathway of awakening to the sacrament of the present moment. Although we do not expect supernatural violations of the laws of nature in response to our prayers, we can pray with the expectation that the act of prayer joins us with God and those for whom we pray, awakens us to new perspectives, and (I believe) creates a positive field of force around those for whom we pray, thus, enabling God to be more active in their lives. 
•  A commitment to easily learned meditative/contemplative practices such as breath prayer (simply breathing in God’s spirit, exhaling stress); centering prayer (focusing on a prayer word, such as “peace,” “joy,” “love”) 
•  An exploration of imaginative prayer (experiencing the world as reflecting God’s presence, including those with whom we contend in the current political, theological, and culture “wars”) Seeing Christ in those with whom we disagree moves us from “polarization” to “contrast,” that is, to affirmation without divisiveness. 
•  A discovery of Christian affirmations that transform our minds and actions. (Short sentences aimed at transforming the way we experience reality, such as “I am God’s beloved child,” “Nothing can separate me from the love of God,” “God’s light shines in all creation, even those with whom I contend.”)
•  An openness to God’s healing touch through acts of prayer, healing rituals such as laying on of hands, and global energy techniques (such as healing touch, therapeutic touch, and reiki healing touch.) 
•  A commitment to joining heart and hands in social activism – praying our political action and seeing Christ in those whom we serve. 
•  A commitment to reading the bible imaginatively through Benedictine lectio divina (holy reading) and Ignatian spiritual exercises/imaginative prayer.

Progressive Christianity, following 19th century liberalism, has proclaimed the continuity of God and the world and humankind and non-human life; naturalistic theism (God works within causal relationships rather than supernaturally); and the universality of revelation. These claims open the door for truly practicing God’s presence – truly opening to divine revelation in our lives and seeing God at work in the transformation of society and our lives. A spirit-centered progressivism can give us the energy, perspective, and patience to confront injustice while maintaining our spiritual, physical, and relational well-being.

Bruce Epperly is a seminary professor and administrator at Lancaster Theological Seminary and, pastor and spiritual companion. He is the author of seventeen books, including Holy Adventure: 41 Days of Audacious Living, a response to Rick Warren’s Purpose Driven Life. His Tending to the Holy: The Practice of the Presence of God in Ministry, written with Katherine Gould Epperly, was selected Book of the Year by the Academy of Parish Clergy. (http://www.bruceepperly.com/)

August 5, 2009 - Pulling the Boat to Shore

More from Rabbi David J. Wolpe’s Why Faith Matters...

Wolpe retells a centuries-old rabbinic parable, about a man in a boat pulling on a rope, in order to bring his boat to shore. From the illusory perspective of a passenger on the boat, it may seem as though the boatman is pulling the shore to him. In reality, of course, it is the boat that is moving. The land is solid, substantial, immovable.

Prayer is like that, says Wolpe:

“People have much the same confusion about spiritual weight and motion: In prayer, some believe that you are pulling God closer to you. But in fact the heartfelt prayer pulls you closer to God.

I have prayed in fear and in joy, in crisis and in calm. Each time I understood that what I was asking for was not the object of my prayer. My prayer that I would be healed was a prayer, stripped of all its topmost layers, to be assured that whatever happened would be all right. Every prayer in this way is a prayer for peace; it is peace in the world and in one’s soul, the certainty that the pain is not empty, the world not a void, the soul is not alone.”

- Why Faith Matters (HarperOne, 2008), p. 142.

No wonder so many scripture passages describe God as a rock that cannot be moved.

So much about the way we live our lives is egocentric. We really do believe – as the ancients believed about their home, the earth – that the universe revolves around us. One of our deep, spiritual tasks, as we mature through life, is to dispossess ourselves of this mistaken notion.

Cancer has a way of bringing that truth home all the sooner.

July 31, 2009 - Praying in the Tube

Finishing out my vacation, I’ve been enjoying some quiet time up at our Adirondacks place, near Jay, New York. One of the good books I’ve been reading is Why Faith Matters, by Rabbi David J. Wolpe. David thoughtfully sent me a copy of his book, after reading my May 9, 2009 blog entry about him.

The book has a lot to recommend it. It’s a thoughtful, honest answer to recent critics from the scientific world, like Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins, who have ridiculed faith and elevated scientific insights in its place. (It’s also a quick read, very accessible to people without extensive training in either theology or science.)

David is in the same place I am on that question, maintaining that religion and science need not be in conflict with one another. There’s no reason why a scientist cannot also be a religious believer, nor a believer someone who also accepts the insights of evolutionary biology or physics.

One part of the book that speaks personally to me is when David shares his personal experience as a cancer survivor. Like me, he has non-Hodgkin lymphoma, in an incurable form. Some years previously, he had surgery to remove a brain tumor. Here, he writes of his experience of prayer, as he’s undergone various medical tests:

“Throughout my various illnesses, I prayed. My prayer was not answered because I lived; my prayer was answered because I felt better able to cope with my sickness. Each time I go for my regular tests, the CT or PET scans or an MRI, each time I am moved into the metal tube that will give an image of sickness or health, I pray. I do not pray because I believe God will give me a clear scan. I pray because I am not alone, and from gratitude that having been near death I am still in life. I pray not for magic but for closeness, not for miracles but for love.

The novelist George Meredith wrote, ‘Who rises from his prayer a better man, his prayer is answered.’”

– Why Faith Matters (HarperOne, 2008), p. 25.

Some of the most heartfelt prayers any of us pray are those uttered “in the tube.” When we find ourselves in the tube, what do we pray for? Miracles?

I’ve wondered, on similar occasions, what the point is of praying for a negative test result (“negative” is, of course, a positive or good result in medical parlance). The machine, be it CT scanner or PET scanner or whatever, is simply taking a picture of whatever is there. I’m not praying for the result to come out skewed, of course – it’s in my best interest that the test be accurate, that my doctors fully understand whatever’s going on inside my body. When we offer prayers in the tube, are we praying that, if there’s a malignancy there, God will vaporize it then and there, in the few seconds before the picture is taken?

No, as David indicates, I think prayer is a good bit more complex than that. When we pray, we often do have specific results in mind, but more importantly, we’re seeking to be in communion with God, and perhaps also to feel a sense of solidarity with others who form the community of prayer. Indeed, we pray “not for magic but for closeness, not for miracles but for love.”

Of miracles, C.S. Lewis once wrote: “Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.”

The point is, to catch that larger vision.

Prayer changes things. Prayer changes us.

October 27, 2008 - George Herbert on Prayer

In my study-leave reading, I ran across a remarkable poem by George Herbert. I’ve long admired the poetry of this seventeenth-century Welsh divine. Herbert, a sickly man from a noble family, was ordained a priest at mid-life and labored in an obscure country parish. He died soon after, and would have quickly been forgotten were it not for his poetry, stunning in its imagery and use of the English language.

Reading a George Herbert poem is not easy. Like the scribblings of Shakespeare, his writing is studded with archaic vocabulary. To the persistent, though, what seems dense and incomprehensible at first slowly reveals hidden treasures.

Here’s the poem:

Prayer (I)

Prayer the Churches banquet, Angels age,
Gods breath in man returning to his birth,
The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
The Christian plummet sounding heav’n and earth;

Engine against th’Almightie, sinner’s towre,
Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
The six daies world-transposing in an houre,
A kinde of tune, which all things heare and fear;

Softnesse, and peace, and joy, and love, and blisse,
Exalted Manna, gladnesse of the best,
Heaven in ordinarie, man well drest,
The milkie way, the bird of Paradise,

Church-bels beyond the stars heard, the souls bloud,
The land of spices, something understood.

So, what is prayer, anyway? Herbert’s answer comes in the form of metaphors, slung at us readers rapid-fire. Their meaning is so rich, you have to spend a little time with each one, turning it over and over in your hands...

“the Churches banquet” – a biblical allusion, to any one of a number of passages that see the life to come as a rich feast. Isaiah sings of “a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines,
of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear” (25:6). Jesus tells a parable about a host so determined to fill every seat at his banqueting-table that he throws the doors open to street people (Luke 14:15-24). “You that have no money, come, buy and eat!” (Isaiah 55:1). Prayer is a feast, to which all are invited.

“Angels age” – Since Herbert doesn’t use apostrophes to indicate possession, this could mean “angels growing older,” or it could be – with an apostrophe – “the era of the angels.” I think it’s the latter. There’s something timeless about prayer.

“Gods breath in man returning to his birth” – The poet of Genesis sees life as breath: the Creator God breathing life into nostrils of inanimate clay. To Herbert, prayer is a sort of exhalation, an exchange of respiration.

“The soul in paraphrase” – To paraphrase dense prose is to render it understandable. In prayer, the human soul gives voice to its subtlest heartbeat, its deepest longing.

“heart in pilgrimage” – This one’s self-evident. Prayer is a long and deliberate Godward journey. It also suggests that prayer is best engaged as a long-term discipline.

“The Christian plummet sounding heav’n and earth” – To us, “plummet” means to drop or fall, but it’s related to an old word for “lead.” The plumb is a lead weight a builder hangs from a line, in order to build a perpendicular wall. Ancient mariners would fling a lead weight overboard, attached to a line, in order to gauge the ocean’s depth. This technique was called “sounding.” Prayer, then, helps us test the depth of dark and incomprehensible mysteries.

“Engine against th’Almightie, sinner’s towre” – The next few lines are about prayers of lament or imprecation: angry prayers that give honest voice to human pain and frustration. The “engine” is probably a siege engine, the ponderous wooden contraption an attacking army would wheel up against a city wall. Some of these siege engines were so tall, they could be called towers. A woman in my lymphoma support group was speaking recently of how her cancer has led her to ask the “Why me?” question. Cast in the form of prayer, such a question is an “engine against th’Almightie.”

“Reversed thunder” – If God sends thunder and lightning upon the earth, then prayer is our means of sending it rumbling right back. “The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind; your lightnings lit up the world; the earth trembled and shook” (Psalm 77:18).

“Christ-side-piercing spear” – Here, the poet considers the full implication of prayers of lament or imprecation. Such prayers, while honestly voicing human pain, are as the spear that pierced Christ’s side.

“The six daies world-transposing in an houre” – Prayer actually compresses time, wrapping the six days of Creation up as in a single hour.

“A kinde of tune, which all things heare and fear” – There’s an old tradition of singing our way through suffering. Think of African-American spirituals, or the rhythmic chanting of chain gangs. As long as Christians can still sing, as long as they can still pray, oppressors hear and tremble.

“Softnesse, and peace, and joy, and love, and blisse, exalted Manna, gladnesse of the best” – Prayer is power, but also it gives voice to feelings of deep and perfect peace.

“Heaven in ordinarie, man well drest” – Herbert returns to his earlier image of reversal, of dynamic exchange. Earlier, he described an exchange of breath (“Gods breath in man returning to his birth”). Now, he gives us an exchange of wardrobe. In prayer, heaven takes on the garb of an ordinary peasant, while humanity is attired as a grandee. In Herbert’s time, clothing instantly revealed what level of society its wearer belonged to. Laborers who habitually wore “ordinarie” homespun could never aspire to the silk doublets and hose of the nobility, let alone the fine cloth and lace collars of the rising merchant class. Prayer, however, is equally accessible to all. It flattens the most pronounced social division of all, that between earth and heaven.

“The milkie way, the bird of Paradise” – Exotic images, these. Prayer allows us to reach out and touch the unattainably beautiful.

“Church-bels beyond the stars heard” – One of my most enduring memories of my year at Oxford in 1976-77 is the weekly, Sunday-evening rehearsal of the change-bell ringers. For an hour or so each Sunday, the skies above that town of many spires echoed the glorious cacophony of the bell-carillons, their ringers all practicing at once. It seemed like those melodies could reach even to the stars.

“the souls bloud” – Someone once observed that, if writing is the act of transforming blood into ink, then the dramatic act of speaking it aloud is the transforming of ink into blood. As the poet pours out the blood of human experience upon the page, so too does the poet transform “the soul’s blood” into the words, or even the silent communion, of prayer.

“The land of spices” – Another exotic image. To people of Herbert’s time, the far-off Indies, the spice islands, exerted an exotic and compelling pull on the imagination.

“something understood” – Herbert’s final metaphor for prayer is his simplest and most compelling, in an understated way. When we pray, often and with regularity, we gradually come to understand.

September 30, 2008 - A Surgeon's Perspective on "Watchful Waiting"

Flying back from Utah the other day, I finished reading Pauline W. Chen’s insightful memoir, Final Exam: A Surgeon’s Reflections on Mortality (Knopf, 2007). Pauline is a liver-transplant surgeon, which means she’s spent her professional life at the edge of high-tech innovation. Sometimes she’s part of the surgical team that helicopters in to harvest organs from the body of a dying accident victim, pops them into an ice-filled cooler and flies them to a distant city. Other times, she’s on the receiving end of those precious deliveries, implanting the harvested liver into an otherwise-dying patient.

This work has given her a unique perspective on life and death. From the brain-dead body of a patient who’s breathing with the aid of machines, she salvages living tissue that just may save another’s life. It’s hard to imagine a more heroic occupation.

Far from celebrating transplant surgery’s technical razzle-dazzle, Pauline appeals for heightened awareness of the emotional side of medicine. She reminds her colleagues that, when the risks of surgery are too great and a patient cannot be saved, the doctor has a continuing responsibility to care for the patient’s emotional needs - rather than abandoning the person to others, out of fear of medical failure.

I was intrigued by this lengthy passage, in which she reflects on how the “watchful waiting” approach to treatment troubles many of her surgical colleagues:

“There is no mistaking the heady exhilaration you feel when you walk into the cool and ordered operating room, pull out all the technical gadgetry and wizardry of the moment, and within a few hours solve the essential problem. Surgery is a specialty defined by action. As a student of mine once said, ‘Surgeons do something about a problem, not just sit around and think about it.’

But surgeons are not alone in this doer’s paradise. While surgery, particularly liver transplantation, represents an extreme, even physicians in specialties with little or no ‘invasive’ procedures feel compelled to do. A patient visits with a problem, and the appointment is incomplete without a prescription for medications or tests or some tangible diagnosis.

Even medicine’s essential framework for approaching clinical problems – the treatment algorithm – presumes physician action. Frequently diagrammed in textbooks and medical journals, these algorithms outline step-by-step therapeutic plans for different diseases. For every point along the algorithm there are several possible outcomes that in turn may have several of their own possible therapeutic options. On no branch of the decision tree, however, is there a box reserved for Do nothing or Hold tight or Sit on your hands. Instead, if no treatment is required, we describe the waiting as an active, not a passive, period. Treat with intravenous antibiotics for six weeks and then reassess may be part of the algorithm. Or we may decide on a course of what is euphemistically termed expectant management or watchful waiting, as if our therapeutic intervention is just being held temporarily at bay. Even in deciding to wait or do nothing, we imbue these periods with action. It is as if we are dynamically managing time and at the end of that time there may be more treatment for us to initiate.

We can confuse these interventions with hope, particularly at the end of life, and equate more treatment with more love. Any decision to hold or even withdraw treatment becomes near impossible, and not treating a patient the moral equivalent of giving up. Moreover, once treatments have started, there is an obligation to the interventions themselves. Having done so much already, doctors – and many patients and families – find it nearly impossible to let all their efforts simply drop.

In an attempt to display competency or undying love, we lose sight of the double-edged nature of our cutting-edge wizardry. We battle away until the last precious hours of life, believing that cure is the only goal. We inflict misguided treatments on not just others but also ourselves. During these final, tortured moments it is as if the promise of the nineteenth century has become the curse of the twenty-first.” (Pp. 147-148)

Quite naturally, I’ve been inclined to view the soul-numbing tedium of watchful waiting from my own perspective as a patient. Pauline’s book has helped me glimpse it from the viewpoint of my doctors as well. Turns out, we both wish we could do more.

The contemplatives have long taught that intentionally doing nothing – doing it with our whole being – is one of the most difficult of spiritual tasks. This is the point Martin Luther was getting at when he observed how his puppy jumped up on the table, then waited expectantly for a morsel of food dangled from the hand of his master. “Oh, if I could only pray the way this dog watches the meat!” Luther reflected. “All his thoughts are concentrated on the piece of meat. Otherwise he has no thought, wish, or hope.”

Fully engaged and mindful waiting is my own spiritual challenge these days. There’s something in me that wants to reach relentlessly into the future, fretting about what treatment may await me down the road. Ultimately, this is an abdication of the present discipline of waiting that has been given me.

“Let us then labour for an inward stillness –
An inward stillness and an inward healing;
That perfect silence where the lips and heart
Are still, and we no longer entertain
Our own imperfect thoughts and vain opinions,
But God alone speaks in us, and we wait
In singleness of heart, that we may know
His will, and in the silence of our spirits,
That we may do His will, and do that only.”

– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, “Christus: A Mystery,” in The Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, vol. 5 (Houghton Mifflin, 1851), pp. 313-314.

Establishing a House of Prayer

When you were little, assuming you had a two parent family, who did you go to when you were hurt or when you needed something? If you didn't grow up in such a family take a family from Tv such as the Cosby Show, Leave It to Beaver or even the Foreman's of That Seventies Show.

When one of the children need to speak to a parent who do they speak to? Is it the father or mother exclusivly? Nope...not even in the father-led, 1950's Cleavers, sometimes "the Beave" went to his mom and sometimes to his Dad and recieved different advice from both, and different comfort from both.



So as the literal children of Heavenly Mother and Father whom do we go to when we need something, or when we need comfort? Does it not seem out of balance to always go to the Father - to always seeks only guidance and assuarance from the masculin side of the Divine?

In D&C 88:119 we are told to "Organize yourselves; prepare every needful thing; and establish a house, even a house of prayer..." So praying should be like a house. We are the children asking for love and understanding from our parents so why always go to the father for that? Why never the Mother?

Psalm 123 tells us that prayer should be like a servant to his master. The master rules the house and the servant looks to the master for guidance just as we look to God for guidance in our "house" in which we serve Him. But it doesn't stop there. Psalm 123 actually says, "Lift up thine eyes unto the Lord and plead with him for mercy. Unto thee lift up mine eyes, O thou that dwellest in the heavens. Behold, as the eyes of servants look unto the hand of their masters, and as the eyes of a maiden unto the hand of her mistress; so our eyes wait upon the Lord our God, until that he have mercy upon us (Mollenkott).

God is both our Master and our Mistress, our Mother and our Father and we seek the direction and compassion of both just as we serve both. Should we then not be praying to both? Should we not seek out the Mother for motherly things and the Father for Fatherly things?

After Joseph Smith revealed the concept of Mother in Heaven to Eliza Snow, one of his wives, she was moved to write the Mormon hymn now called, “O My Father!” This hymn was originally called “Eternal Mother and Father”

President Wilford Woodruff, the fourth President and Prophet of the LDS church said that “O My Father” was a hymn of revelation given to Snow.
Let me repeat that, a revelation, given by a woman about Mother in Heaven, a prophet said this. So what does her revelation say?

"I had learned to call thee Father, Through thy Spirit from on high,
But until the key of knowledge Was restored, I knew not why.
In the heavens are parents single? No, the thought makes reason stare!
Truth is reason, truth eternal Tells me I've a mother there."

Let's break it down a bit further. "I had learned to call thee Father" When do we call upon God? In prayer of course! The keys of knowledge were restored through Joseph Smith Jr. and now Eliza (and all of us) know that in the context of calling upon God we have also a Mother in Heaven!

"But didn't President Hinckely tell us not to pray to Mother in Heaven?" I hear you asking through cyber space. Well, no, not exactly. So what did Hinckely say exactly? Here's the most important piece, “in light of the instruction we have received from the Lord Himself, I regard it as inappropriate for anyone in the Church to pray to our Mother in Heaven.” He went on to say that those who prayed to Heavenly Mother are, "well-meaning, but they are misguided.”

Some key words here are "I view it" and it is "inappropriate" but not outright appostesy. At no time does Hinckely say God said not too. No it's more missguided. But Hinckely did not say these famous words as the Prophet, he was not yet the prophet when he said them. So how much weight do they carry?

Should we head the words of Wilford who was a Prophet when he said that Eliza's hymn was a revelation? Do we listen to scripture that says prayer should be like a house, where we all understand that even in the most patriarchal socieities the Mother is a source of knowledge and comfort at some point too? Or do we choose to listen to Hinckely and his talk of missguideness?

I suppose the choice is yours. Red pill or blue pill?