"Seven Habits of Discipleship:  Prayer"

Psalm 6:1-10 and Matthew 6:1-13

Dr. George R. Sinclair, Jr. Pastor

February 21, 2010

            Riding down Old Shell Road the other day, I saw a fishing boat. I think it was in for repairs, could have been for sale, but it looked like repairs. What caught my eye was its name. The boat was christened, Bad Habit. Now that’s a clever name for a fishing boat: Bad Habit.

I enjoy fishing and I suppose it could become a bad habit.  It has all the makings of a bad habit.  Fishing can take up a lot of time. It can be expensive. You can spend a lot of money fishing. You can be away from your family. And by the time you add up the cost of a boat, rods, reels, fuel, insurance, coolers, ice, bait, products for your cooler and other gear, speckled trout gets pretty pricey.  In fact, if the price per pound was the reason we fished, most of us would stay at home. Nobody fishes for the price of the fish, so it can easily become a bad habit.

            For the next seven weeks, we’re going to talk about habits of disciples.  What makes a habit a habit of discipleship? First, let me define more clearly what I mean by habit.  Take fishing, again. Say I own a rod and reel. Say I have a tackle box. I’ve got a license and all the necessary gear. But say I only fish two or three times a year—does that qualify as a habit?  If I only go fishing two or three times a year, would you say I was in the habit of fishing? 

I know some fishermen who’d say that was a bad habit—I don’t fish enough!  For something to be a habit, good or bad, we’ve got to practice it regularly, routinely, frequently.  I might think of myself as a fisherman if I own a rod and reel—heck,  I might even have a boat—but if I’m never on the water, if I’m not out there fishing, you could hardly say I had a fishing habit, good or bad.

            We say so and so is a smoker or so and so is a drinker or so and so is a gambler. “So and So” doesn’t become a gambler by placing a two dollar bet at the annual Super Bowl office pool.  We are known by our habits—good and bad.  Habits shape our character.  That word character comes from a word meaning to cut. Thousands of years ago, scribes cut cuneiform letters into soft clay. Those letters or characters were then dried in the sun. 

Human character is cut. It is traced, inscribed.  The things we do over and over again are etched into our souls making us the people we are.  Habits create identity. 

For the next seven weeks, we’re going to talk about habits that shape Christian disciples.  Why seven and not eight or nine or twelve habits? Twelve is a good Biblical number—so is ten.  There are Ten Commandments, so why not Ten Habits of Disciples? Why seven and not ten or three—three is a good biblical number.  I really don’t have a good reason except that there are seven Sundays between now and Easter and we thought it was good PR to do a sermon series!  Actually, the Session adopted these seven habits a couple of years ago.  We didn’t have a reason for choosing just seven habits but we certainly believed discipleship needed sharper definition. For too many, discipleship is poorly or ill-defined.  We’re not sure what habits constitute Christian discipleship.

Consider that word—disciple.  A disciple is someone who learns or submits to a discipline.  When the Session adopted its list it did so believing we should be clear about what God expects.  Is a Christian someone who shows up for worship a couple of times a year? Are Christmas and Easter and a baptism here and there enough?  And what about study? Can I know God if I never spend time with the Bible?  We routinely tell our children:  “Get an education. Study hard.”  We wouldn’t dream of letting our kids skip school—maybe for a trip or a vacation—but never simply because they don’t feel like getting up and going.

Our Mayor made news the other day citing a high dropout rate.  Whatever the number, it’s too high.  How is your child going to learn science or English or history if she doesn’t study?  We would never dream of taking our kids out of school, but when it comes to religion, we have a different mindset. 

What is it they say about genius—90% perspiration, 10% inspiration?  True enough, some people are naturals, but most don’t make it to MIT without hard work.  Likewise, kids aren’t born knowing “Please and thank you.”  Children aren’t born knowing to wait their turn or to hold the door.  What we call Common Courtesies are not common at all, no more so than ABC’s or Atomic Weights, which does not mean children are blank slates.  They are not.

At some point, Susie must choose between medicine and teaching. At some point, Johnny must choose between banking and mud-wrestling, but even those choices are influenced by habitual exposure to disciplines and expectations.  Children are influenced by those they trust and admire, most of all their parents.  The fact is, Susie and Johnny can’t, and don’t, make life decisions apart from the disciplines they acquire in childhood.  Habits don’t close down our world; habits open up our world.  The same is true about habits of faith.   Habits equip us to see God.

Think about microscopes and telescopes, important equipment if you want to see stars and cells.  We’re not born with microscopic or telescopic vision.  We can’t see cells or distant stars.  We need equipment—microscopes and telescopes. We’d never say stars or cells don’t exist simply because we can’t see them or because our eyesight is ill-equipped.  No one is born equipped to see cells or stars. We need equipment.  Habits of faith likewise equip us to see what was previously hidden, what was previously undisclosed.  Habits of faith help us see God.  Moreover, habits of faith, keep us in the ballpark.  Habits tell us we’re heading in the right direction.  

Let’s say I want to take in a Saints game.  At a Saints game, I expect to see Drew Brees in black and gold and Who Dat posters plastered everywhere.  I expect to see large men in helmets playing with a loaf sized ball on a 100-yard, grassy field.  Let’s say I somehow end up in Atlanta and Chipper Jones walks out wearing a white uniform, hitting a tomato sized ball with a stick. Chances are I’m in the wrong ball park. I’ve gone to the wrong game. I’m not even close.

Habits of faith not only help us see God, they keep us in the game.  They locate us on God’s playing field:  Do I pray regularly? Do I worship? Am I involved in Bible study?  Do I serve?  Do I take part in fellowship? Do I tithe?  Do I tell the story of Jesus?  Habits keep us in the game.  We practice them so that we don’t just look the part, we are the part.  And here’s where Jesus issues his strongest warning. Right when we think we’re strongest, right when we’re all ready to get in the game, Jesus says Watch Out. He uses the word piety. He’s talking about habits: “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.”

Elsewhere Jesus says we should let our light shine before others so that it brings light to the house and glory to God. “Don’t hide your light,” he says. “Let it shine.” Obviously, Jesus doesn’t expect us to live in caves. He sends us out into the world: “You are my witnesses to the ends of the earth.”  Here’s the thing: we don’t come to church or go to Bible studies or serve breakfast at Coffee Club or make chicken casseroles to make a name for ourselves.  As soon as we do that, we’ve broken the first and only rule of discipleship.  Habits are not about us. Habits give glory to God which is the only place glory belongs. 

What Jesus says about alms giving, prayer, and fasting, all traditional expressions of and ways Jewish faith was formed, can be said about the seven habits of Christian disciples: “Don’t practice them to be seen. Don’t let your left hand know what your right is doing. And don’t use many words. God already knows what you need.”

Habits of discipleship are not about scoring points.  They are not about getting what we want or need from God.  We’re saved by grace not because we’ve worked ourselves into God’s good graces.  Habits of discipleship are grounded in the lordship of Christ.  We are saved by God’s goodness and mercy not because we’re practiced and pious.  So what about the habit of prayer?

“Your Father knows what you need before you ask.” 

“Don’t heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think they will be heard because of their many words.”

If God knows everything ahead of time, what’s the point in praying?  And is God’s mind going to be changed by something I say, something I pray for—you know, if I pile up enough words or stack them in just the right way: “Pretty please. Please, Lord. Please, please, please with sugar on top. And I promise never to do that again. And I’ll go to church every single Sunday—Ok, skip that one, but please, please, Lord God Almighty, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Father of Abraham, please help me.”

“Your Father knows what you need before you ask. . . don’t use many words.”

Rare words, obscure words tend to jump out.   Matthew uses a rare one here—battalogeo which is translated many words.  The only time battalogeo occurs in the New Testament is here in the 6^th chapter of Matthew. It doesn’t appear at all in the Greek Old Testament.  “When you pray, don’t use many words.” Maybe God likes silence. Or maybe God gets us. Maybe God understands our situation.  Clearly, God knows what we need before we ask, which kind of takes prayer out of the realm of telecommunications.  

Many words.  It could refer to ritually repeated words, magic formulas.  I’ve been in tight spots, so have you. A person will say nearly anything to get out of trouble.  Many words.  Sometimes we talk real fast and real loud when we are excited.  In emergencies, we get breathless.  Many words. If prayer is not a wire to heaven and if it’s not an attempt to persuade God by flattery, profundity, and sheer volume, what is it?  If God already knows our need and if God is already persuaded to act graciously, justly, kindly, mercifully; in other words, if God is fully prepared and willing to act without our bidding, why pray?   

Clearly, Jesus teaches us to pray.  He expects us to be in the habit of prayer:  “Pray then in this way: Our Father in heaven . . .” Notice the we-language in Jesus’ Prayer.  Not much “I just pray . . .” It’s all we-our language—third person plurals. We know Jesus sometimes prayed alone—deliberately so. Likewise, he tells us to be careful about praying in public, suggesting that we should go into our “room and pray in secret” which argues for personal, private prayer.  So, why the shift of emphasis? Why this we-our-us language which argues for public prayer?

 I think Jesus is trying to tell us that we’re not alone when we pray even if we happen to be all by ourselves. I also think he’s saying that our prayer concerns aren’t all that unique, that we have more in common with the rest of the human race than we think.  Jesus is trying to convince us that Our Father really is Our Father and not just my God or my Father.  God is one.  And we are one. 

Moreover, when you look at Jesus’ prayer, his list has some pretty big concerns. Jesus isn’t exactly sweating the small stuff. His prayer list includes the kingdom of God, God’s will; bread; forgiveness, trial, deliverance.  And based on what Jesus prays, life is contested. According to Jesus, we need all of the help we can get.  And the stuff we need help with is not who gets what space in the parking lot or who’ll be first in line at the check-out counter when you’re running late. Jesus prays for BIG STUFF and it is contested which suggests that the ground rule for all of our habits including prayer is conformity to God’s rule and God’s reign.  We pray together and we pray separately to be conformed to God’s rule and reign in all things.  The habit of prayer, as all habits of discipleship, creates for us lives shaped by God’s will.  We practice our faith to follow Jesus Christ.

“Beware of practicing [your habits] before others.  Don’t practice your habits to be seen; don’t let your left hand know what your right is doing; and don’t heap up . . . many words thinking you’ll be heard. Pray then in this way:  Our Father in heaven. . .”  Amen.