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Bishop Deb shares Easter joy

As Holy Week begins, Bishop Deborah Lieder Kiesey and the Michigan Area conclude a corporate spiritual discipline of prayer.

Easter Sunday, emailed Monday, March 27 …

O Gracious & loving God, what a glorious day this is!  And what a journey has brought us to this day!

  • We have prayed together throughout this Lenten season;
  • we have traveled the road beside you on your journey to Jerusalem;
  • we have waved palm branches and shouted “Hallelujah!” as you were proclaimed Messiah;
  • we have also turned away from you and have cried “Crucify him!” with the rest of the crowd when we should have stood beside you in your darkest time;
  • we watched as you struggled to Golgotha carrying the heavy cross;
  • and we cried as you breathed your last.

And now, we rejoice to receive the message that death is not the end – that Your love, O God, has conquered even death.   What glorious Good News!   O all-loving God, how can we even begin to comprehend your love for us?  A love that knows our faults – sees our human-ness – forgives our sins – and will never let us go.   And as our hearts rejoice at the promise of New Life, may our spirits be lifted as we return to the daily routines of life.   May we see that:

  • Easter is not just a day, but a way of life.
  • It is not just a momentary celebration, but a lifelong experiencing of the New Life offered to us through the sacrifice of Christ.
  • It is not the culmination, but the beginning.

Great God, for Your Son – for Your unending love – for Your gift of life and eternal life – we give You thanks!  May our lives reflect the hope, the promise and the joy of the Resurrection, so that we might proclaim to the world, “He is Risen! Thanks be to God!”   We ask all this in the name of your Son and our Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave his life for us and who brought us today to new life.    Amen.

 


Here is Week Six, emailed Monday, March 21 …

It was a Sunday afternoon and I had already had three worship services – one on Saturday night and two that Sunday morning.  But it was my turn to provide worship at the local nursing home’s Alzheimer’s Unit.  I really wanted to be home with the family, taking my traditional Sunday afternoon nap, but instead I was hauling my guitar into the locked wing of our nursing home.  I planned to do a simplified version of my Sunday morning message and a few familiar hymns, throw in a prayer or two, and call it a day.

As I entered the activity room, everyone was already there, and I recognized a woman whose husband was a faithful member of my congregation.  He had lovingly cared for her at home until he could no longer manage and he’d reluctantly brought her here, moving into a room in the other end of the nursing home himself – just so he could be with her and still care for her as much as possible.  And now she’d been almost unresponsive for the four years I’d been there.

We sang Amazing Grace;  I read a couple of familiar scriptures;  I shared a simple devotion … and then I began praying The Lord’s Prayer.  As I did so, I looked at this woman who, for all intents and purposes was unaware of anything going on around her – and I saw her lips moving.  As her husband sat beside her holding her hand, I watched as she mouthed the words of that ancient prayer – her eyes closed, no sound coming from her lips – but words so familiar they must have come from some place deep within her soul.
Our Father, Who art in heaven …

And when she finished with “Amen”, I knew I had witnessed something very special.  I had been privileged to see the remnants of a faith so deep that even Alzheimer’s could not erase its power.

We started this series of devotions five weeks ago during the first week of Lent with a child’s proud recitation of this holy prayer … and we end this week with that same prayer being offered by a woman at the end of her life, but for whom the prayer still brought strength and comfort.

A lifetime of prayer.  Two ends of the life spectrum, but still – and always – prayer.

Whether we are just learning this prayer for the first time,
or whether we have said this prayer for our entire lives,
prayer – and The Lord’s Prayer in particular – is what binds us to the Divine.
It is our way of staying in relationship and in love with God.

“For thine is the kingdom” – no one else’s kingdom is greater;
“and the power” – no other kingdom has such power;
“and glory forever” – and ever and ever.

Forever.  And ever.

This final line brings us full circle.  It reminds us, as did the first line, that the God we worship is greater than anything we can imagine.  We have gone from Divine (“Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name”) to Divine  (“For thine is the kingdom and the power and glory forever”).

As we said before – this prayer is a declaration of faith.  A declaration that moves us from God – to the world – and back again to God.

N. T. Wright in his book, The Lord and His Prayer, writes:
“What then might it mean to pray this Kingdom-prayer today?  It means, for a start, that we look up into the face of our Father in heaven, and commit ourselves to the hallowing of (God’s) name, that we look immediately out upon the world that (God) made and see it as (God) sees it.  … See it with the love of the Creator for God’s spectacularly beautiful creation; and see it with the deep grief of the Creator for the battered and battle-scarred state in which the world now finds itself.  Put those two together and bring the binocular picture into focus:  The love and the grief join into the Jesus-shape, the kingdom-shape, the shape of the cross.”  (p. 31)

“The Jesus-shape, the kingdom-shape, the shape of the cross.”

We are now in the holiest week of the Christian year.  These are the days when we walk with Jesus through the final hours and moments of his life.  We know all that will come … the betrayal, the accusations before the authorities, the judgment, the torture, and the death.

We know this.

But we also know that the events at the end of this week are not really the end.  And knowing that end allows us to walk into our future in hope – in faith – and in the belief that God’s love for us is eternal, and Christ’s sacrifice for us frees us to new life.

As we walk these Holy last days with Jesus, continue to pray this Holy Prayer.

May these words go deep into our souls, so that … on Easter morning we might celebrate with true joy, having deepened our relationship with God, with Christ and with one  another.

So … as Jesus prayed in the wilderness,
… as he prayed on the mountain before feeding the 5000,
… as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane,
… pray once again his prayer:

Our Father who art in heaven,
                  Hallowed be thy name.
                  Thy kingdom come,
                                    thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
                  Give us this day our daily bread
                  And forgive us our trespasses,
                                    as we forgive those who trespass against us.
                  And lead us not into temptation,
                                    but deliver us from evil.
                  For thine is the kingdom and the power and glory forever.  Amen.

And amen.

 

 

Here is Week Five, emailed Monday, March 14…

Several years ago Brad and I adopted two kittens from the animal shelter in Mitchell, South Dakota.  Opus and Aria are very sociable cats, always wanting to be near us or in the middle of whatever is going on.

Opus in particular seems to need to be close – sometimes to the point of irritation.   This is his favorite trick:  if there’s something he’s not supposed to touch, he will lie down a foot or so away, and then slowly, slowly stretch until his paw is just inches away.  Next thing I know, his nose is resting on that paw and, a second or two later he’s right where he wants to be.  Now, he knows he’ll get into trouble if I find him there, but the temptation is just too great.

                  “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

When we pray this line from the Lord’s Prayer, we often think of the sort of temptation poor Opus struggles with – more like the temptation to take that second cookie, or to hurry through the stoplight on the yellow, or to buy that newest gadget we’ve seen advertised.  Temptations, all, certainly.

However, this prayer is talking about a deeper kind of temptation – one that is much more difficult to refuse than that second cookie.  I believe this line in the prayer is asking us to make such choices that our lives reflect good – and not evil.  For the temptation to do evil is always near.

When unkind words spring to our minds –

When we have a choice between selfishness and selflessness –

When anger rises to just below the surface –

When criticism comes more easily than praise –

… we are being tempted.   Temptation doesn’t necessarily mean those large sins we hear about on the news in the paper, but also those everyday temptations that keep us from living as God intends.

Michael Casey, in his book Toward God: The Ancient Wisdom of Western Prayer, says this: Prayer is inseparable from living.  The worse thing we can think about prayer is that it is a trivial exercise – saying a few words or channeling one’s thoughts in a particular direction.  Authentic prayer is not that.  It is usually difficult.  This is not because it takes great expertise or is reserved to an elite, but because it takes a lot of courage.  To pray well I must first find out where I am.  Self-knowledge is never procured cheaply.  To pray well I need to face up to realities about myself that I would prefer to ignore; my anxieties, fears, private griefs, failures, lovelessness, my utter lack of resources. To accept the truth about what I am, as also the truth about other human beings, demands courage.  If I do not pray well, it is usually because I lack that kind of courage.  (p. 5)

Prayer gives us the courage to look within our own lives and souls and then guides us on the path of Right Living.  It keeps us in touch with God in such a way that our every thought and our every act become attuned to the Will of God.

So when we pray, “lead us not into temptation,” in many ways we are talking about something as simple – and as profound – as trying to live by the Three Simple Rules:

  1. Do No Harm
  2. Do Good
  3. Love God

Simple?  Yes.

Easy?  No. But, with God’s help we can find a way.

This week as you pray this prayer, look deeply into your soul, and ask yourself, “How can my words and my actions become more attuned to God?”  And then open your heart to hear God’s message for you.   For yes, temptations abound, but God’s love is greater.  

Sanctuary …  Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary, Pure and holy, Tried and true. With thanksgiving, I’ll be a living, Sanctuary for you.  (Faith We Sing #2164)  

Amen and amen.

Bishop Deborah Lieder Kiesey
Michigan Area United Methodist Church

 

 Here is Week Four, emailed Monday, March 7…

On November 14, 1940, a squadron from the German Luftwaffe made its way across the English Channel, headed for the coast of England.  Its mission was top secret and code-named “Operation Moonlight Sonata”, and its goal was simple: to destroy the city of Coventry.  Throughout the night the bombs rained down on that city, and in the early morning light, the extent of the damage was seen. Coventry had been devastated.  568 people had been killed; block after block had been leveled; and the beautiful cathedral, which had lifted its spire over Coventry for centuries, was now a smoldering pile of rubble.

Standing in the middle of the shell of the ruined cathedral only days after the bombing, Jock Forbes, the cathedral’s stone mason, saw in the midst of the rubble, two of the charred medieval roof timbers that had fallen across each other – in the form of a cross.  He tied the burnt fragments together and placed them in the ruined sanctuary.

Later that week, a priest, Rev. Arthur Wales, also picked up three of the huge medieval roof nails that littered the debris.  He, too, bound them into the form of a cross and placed them with the charred cross.

Behind these symbols of destruction and hatred were inscribed just two words, “Father Forgive”.

For me, one of the most difficult lines to pray in the Lord’s Prayer is:
“And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

I know I’m not alone in that feeling, because one of the hardest things we are asked to do as Christians is to forgive.  When we are hurt by another, or when there has been some injustice we have suffered, the human tendency is to hurt back – to respond in anger – to lash out.  And, in many ways, that’s understandable.   It’s human.

And yet … it’s not the way of Christ.

As followers of the Son of God, we have been shown a different way of living – hard as that might be.  For even after betrayal – and scourging – and torture, Jesus chose another path – the path of love over hatred, and forgiveness over revenge.  He prayed, even as he was hanging on the cross,
“Father, forgive them for they know not what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34)

Difficult as it is, if we are to live by the faith we profess, then we must forgive.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu, Chair of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa, in the midst of bringing healing to that country once said, “There is no future without forgiveness.”   It is only by moving beyond the hurt, the anger, and the hatred that we can truly move ahead.  That doesn’t mean that forgiveness comes easily.  It doesn’t.  But with God’s help we can take that first step toward healing and wholeness.  And eventually, again with God’s help, forgiveness can become a reality.

In the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., “Forgiveness isn’t an occasional act; it is a permanent attitude.”

And so we pray:
“And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

In the summer of 1995 I was privileged to stand in the center of the bombed out shell of Coventry Cathedral.  The shell remains – there are no windows – no ornaments – no roof – only the blackened remnants of the walls and the steeple.  And, at the far end, an altar, the charred cross still in place, and the words, “Father Forgive”.  There is a new cathedral there, as well, with beautiful stained glass, towering ceilings and a magnificent organ.  And yet the focal point of that cathedral is another altar – with the roof nail cross at its center.

And from that devastation has grown an unbelievable ministry of peace.

“For Jesus is our peace, who has broken down the dividing wall of hostility .. so that you are no longer strangers and sojourners, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God.”  (Ephesians 2:14, 19)

The people of Coventry could find peace and forgiveness because they truly understood the meaning of the cross.  And through their ministry, they have literally changed a corner of their world, until where “Coventrate” once meant to destroy, now, to much of the world, the word “Coventry” brings forth images of peace.

They could do it.  And so can we.

“For Jesus is our peace.”

Every Friday noon, a service is held in Coventry’s ruined sanctuary.
Every Friday these Christians stop whatever they are doing and come together to pray.

This Lent, let us pray their litany of reconciliation with them.

Litany of Reconciliation

All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.
For the hatred which divides nation from nation, race from race, class from class …
Father Forgive.
For the covetous desires of people and nations to possess what is not their own …
Father Forgive.
For the greed which exploits the work of human hands and lays waste the earth …
Father Forgive.
For our envy of the welfare and happiness of others …
Father Forgive.
For our indifference to the plight of the imprisoned, the homeless, the refugee …
Father Forgive.
For the lust which dishonors the bodies of men, women and children …
Father Forgive.
For the pride which leads us to trust in ourselves and not in God …
Father Forgive.
Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.
Amen.

… and Amen.


Bishop Deborah Lieder Kiesey
Michigan Area
The United Methodist Church

 

Here is Week 3, emailed February 29, 2016 …

I love a good loaf of bread.  One of my favorite places is The Great Harvest Bread Company.  They make some of the best bread I’ve had.  If you have never tried their olive loaf or their cheddar garlic loaf, you have missed something special.  And I loved the fact that I could stop by and actually be given a taste of a particular kind of bread before I bought it.  I would buy a loaf and eat it all week.  Just one good slice would easily make a very filling – and a very satisfying – meal.

That wonderful bread made me realize how just ‘bread alone’ could, indeed, be sustaining.  “Give us this day our daily bread“, begins the third line of the Lord’s Prayer. Now this is a statement we understand.  We understand food –

–with our full to over-flowing pantries;
–with our grocery stores lined with items we’ll probably never need;
–with our restaurants offering big, bigger, and even BIGGER portions;
–with many of us trying to shed those stubborn pounds

We understand food.  Or do we?

Do we really understand the power of this line, “Give us this day our daily bread”? Do we really understand the depth of the cry, “Give us food”?   We understand the kind of hunger that makes our stomachs growl when we go too long between meals.  Or the hunger that comes from smelling the holiday turkey or ham cooking in the oven.  But that kind of hunger can easily be resolved by a quick trip to the refrigerator or the cupboard.

This cry goes much deeper.  It is a cry of millions across our world for whom the lack of ‘daily bread’ is a constant, life-threatening condition.  This is the cry of people whose very existence is threatened by hunger – people for whom a loaf of bread is truly life-sustaining.

Perhaps as we pray this prayer, this third line will call us to remember – and respond to – those who have no ‘daily bread’ – whether they are in Haiti, or Chile, or the Sudan … or just down the street.

In the study guide for the Lord’s Prayer, Becoming Jesus’ Prayer, published by the Iowa Annual Conference, we read these words: To honestly pray “give us this day our daily bread” is to be reminded of our role in establishing God’s kingdom of justice on earth as it is in heaven.  It involves feeding the hungry.  But there is more to this prayer.  It would be an easy task if the prayer were only asking us to share our ‘leftovers” with those who lack food.  The prayer is subversive.  (p. 26)

It is our responsibility to share what we have with the world, and if we really did share, hunger could truly be a thing of the past. There is one other thought I would like to share regarding this particular line of the Lord’s Prayer.  As we pray for bread to sustain our lives, we should also pray for that which sustains our souls.

“Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life.  Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.’”  (John 6:35)

In a world that tries to convince us that more “things” will fulfill our lives, Jesus reminds us of the deeper hunger within our souls – a hunger that can only be satisfied by God.

In the words of the Communion hymn:  You satisfy the hungry heart, With gift of finest wheat. Come, give to us, O saving Lord, The bread of life to eat.   (UMH #629)

So as you pray this Disciple’s Prayer this week, when you get to the phrase, “Give us this day our daily bread”, pause for a moment and offer a special prayer for those who have no ‘daily bread’.  Then take another moment and pray that you might find the soul-filling bread you need to continue your walk through life.

Our Father who art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come,
thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread …
  Amen and amen.

 

Bishop Deborah Lieder Kiesey
Michigan Area
The United Methodist Church

 

 

Here is Week 2, emailed February 22, 2016 …

“Pray then in this way:

                  Our Father in heaven, hallowed by your name.
                  Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”
(Matthew 6:9-10)

There’s a great ad on television I saw several years ago that I really liked.  It first shows a mother pushing a child in a stroller.  The child drops a toy and man walking by picks it up and hands it back to the child, and the mother looks grateful.  In the next scene the same mother is walking out of a coffee shop and when she sees a coffee cup perched precariously on the edge of a table, she quietly pushes the cup away from the edge.  Someone oversees that act and offers a hand to a man who has fallen.   And on and on it goes.  As someone sees an act of kindness, they are inspired to act kindly to another.

At the end of the ad we hear these words:
“When a person does the right thing, we call it responsible.  When an insurance company does it, we call it ———-.”

Now I know it’s an ad for an insurance company, but I still like the thought.   And what I like about it is that it reminds us to do the right thing – to walk the talk – to live out what we claim to believe in our everyday life and actions.

Perhaps we could put it this way:
When a Christian does the right thing, they are living out the kingdom of God.

“Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

When I pray the Lord’s Prayer, this tends to be the line I skip over rather quickly, and move on to “daily bread”, and “forgiveness”, and “temptations”.   But I shouldn’t.  For just as the first line of this prayer is a declaration of our faith, this second sentence reminds me to look toward the bigger picture – the coming of God’s kingdom here on earth.

For prayer has the capacity to shape us in the ways of God.

As Christians, we are called to do everything we can to bring in the Kingdom of God.  We are called to be Christ’s hands and feet to the world and to embody God’s love – God’s grace – God’s justice – God’s compassion – in everything we say and do.  We ought to be doing “the right thing” simply because it IS the right thing – it is what God would have us do.

In Richard Foster’s book, Prayer: Finding the Heart’s True Home, we read this:
The true prophetic message always calls us to a spiritual defiance of the world as it now is.  Our prayer, to the extent that it is fully authentic, undermines the status quo.  It is a spiritual underground resistance movement.  We are subversive in a world of injustice, oppression, and violence.  Like Amos of old, we demand that “justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an everflowing stream” (Amos 5:24).  We plead the case of the orphan and the widow, or whoever the helpless ones are in our context.  In our prayers and in our actions we stand firm against racism, sexism, nationalism, ageism, and every other ‘ism” that separates and splits and divides. (p. 247)

Friends, can you imagine what this world would be like if we all lived as though God’s kingdom were already here?

As you pray this Disciple’s Prayer this week, listen for ways God may be nudging you.  In fact, try offering a prayer as you read your morning newspaper, or as you watch the evening news.   Make prayer a way of life.

When you are frightened – pray.
When you are grateful – pray.
When you are touched by the beauty of God’s creation – pray.
When you pound your fists in anger or frustration – pray.
When your heart is filled with joy – pray.

Make prayer a way of life.
Make listening to God a way of being.
And make living out the kingdom of God your goal.

Prayer Is the Soul’s Sincere Desire (UMH #492)
(to the tune of Amazing Grace)

Prayer is the soul’s sincere desire, un-uttered or expressed,
The motion of a hidden fire that trembles in the breast.

Prayer is the burden of a sigh, the falling of a tear,
The upward glancing of an eye, when none but God is near.

Prayer is the simplest form of speech that infant lips can try;
Prayer the sublimest strains that reach the Majesty on high.

Prayer is the contrite sinners’ voice, returning from their way,
While angels in their songs rejoice and cry, “Behold, they pray!”

Prayer is the Christians’ vital breath, the Christians’ native air;
Their watchword at the gates of death; they enter heaven with prayer.

O Thou, by whom we come to God, the Life, the Truth, the Way:
The path of prayer thyself hast trod; Lord, teach us how to pray!

Amen and amen.

 

Here is Week 1, emailed February 15, 2016 …

The other Sunday I sat in church directly in front of a boy of about eight or nine years old.  He was sitting with what I assumed were his parents and grandparents.  He was a typical little boy, as he wiggled and squirmed and banged the pew in front of him with his feet – full of life, full of energy and full of questions.  Lots of questions.  He asked why we did this, and why we did that, and what the guy up front doing now.  Question after question, asked in his little boy whisper that wasn’t really a whisper at all – and I was pleased his grandfather tried to answer his questions quietly but honestly.

The truth was, I actually enjoyed listening in on this private teaching time.  But what really moved me was during the time for prayer.  As the sanctuary stilled, and the pastor began to pray, this little guy quieted down – the questions finally coming to an end.  And when we were invited to pray The Lord’s Prayer, a little, clear voice rang out behind me, “OUR FATHER WHO ART IN HEAVEN, HALLOWED BE THY NAME …”  On he went, proudly proclaiming every word of that familiar prayer. I found myself no longer saying the words, but just listening – moved by a small child’s prayer.

“He was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.’ He said to them, ‘When you pray say …'” (Luke 11:1-2)

How many times in our lives have we said that most familiar of all prayers?  And yet, as Anne of Green Gables has said, “Saying one’s prayers is not the same as praying.”

She is correct.  It is far too easy to just simply say the words without really digesting them – without really thinking of the power of those holy words.

“Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name.”   These aren’t just words – they are a declaration of faith.  They are a statement that proclaims the power, the presence and the magnificence of the God we worship.  And yet … they also remind us that our relationship with God is a personal one – a relationship so deep that the only way to describe it is through the image of a parent whose love for a child is beyond words. That is where prayer begins – with an acknowledgement of who this God is, and our relationship as God’s beloved child.

As we begin this holy journey through Lent, I am inviting all of us in the Michigan Area to make this Disciple’s Prayer our prayer, and to make it a part of our daily spiritual journey.  There are many ways to pray it:

  • Pray it slowly, pausing after each phrase.
  • Or sing it.
  • Or read it, with the words in front of you.
  • Or say a phrase slowly, over and over again.
  • Or pray a different version of it.

But don’t just say it … pray it.   And each time you pray it, listen for God’s word to you.   Each week we will focus on a particular phrase of the Lord’s Prayer, but I want us to pray the entire prayer every day until the words are no longer just words, but until we can proudly proclaim – and claim – this prayer as did that little boy in the pew behind me – with excitement and with awe.

So, pray with me now – Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily breadAnd forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.    And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom and the power and glory forever.  Amen.

And amen.

With you in the Work of Christ,

 

 

Last Updated on December 22, 2022

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The Michigan Conference