Be God's

Luke 10:1-11

January 2, 2022 • Mount Pleasant UMC

I love to read. You might call me a voracious reader, and the two moments I love the most are when I finish a book and when I start a new one. There’s something incredible satisfying in turning the last page and closing the cover, and there’s something really exciting about opening a brand new book and turning the first page. I look forward to new experiences, new learning, new storylines. And then there are times where that excitement gives way to disappointment as this new book seems the same as the last one or another one I have read. The story seems the same, the author isn’t saying anything different than they did before. You know what I mean—some authors only write one book but they write it over and over and over again.

I kind of feel that way this morning as we begin a new year. Last year, I was hopeful that 2021 was going to be way different than 2020 had been. The pandemic would ease, and I think I even said something last year about life getting back to something resembling normal. And yet, here we are. It’s 2022—the same pandemic, the same divisions among people, the same violence and mistrust. And there are still people we haven’t seen for two years. This feels like the same book and it’s hard to know what to do.

So a few months ago, when I was working on the worship plans for this year, I had a whole different plan for the start of 2022. For a long time I’d been thinking about how we’d start off this year with a bang. And I really worked hard to make that plan be the plan. But it didn’t work. No matter how hard I tried, it would not come together. Frustrated, I stepped away from the plans and that’s when God was finally able to get my attention. “What if you start the year with a focus on prayer?” Hmmm. Interesting idea, God! I mean, every year we begin, as we will again this year, by praying the Wesley Covenant Prayer. We pray it, and we might think about it for a few moments, but then generally we leave it behind until the pastor brings it up again at the beginning of the next year. What if we used this prayer that is part of our history as a focus for the start of the year? What if we really prayed the words rather than just repeated them? And, as I brought others into that conversation, what if we set aside some space in the church specifically for prayer where people could go at any time to bring their hearts and their needs before God? Yeah—what if? More on that last part in a little bit.

So for the first three weeks of this year, our series is called “So Be It: Reigniting Our Prayer.” The word “Amen,” which we usually say without thinking at the end of most of our prayers, means “so be it.” It’s our way of saying, “May these things I have prayed become reality in my life and in our world.” So be it. And when I think about “Amen” that way, when it is actually more than just a word that signifies, “I’m done praying, God, see you later,” then I begin to realize my prayers need to be in line with what God wants so that I can genuinely say, “So be it.” And that’s why I believe this Wesley Prayer is a good guide to what God wants to see our prayer lives become like.

Though he gets the credit for it, the prayer was not entirely original with John Wesley. He adapted earlier prayers he was familiar with and introduced it to the early Methodists at a Covenant Service in August 1755. That service had over 1,800 people in attendance—so just a little bigger than what we have this morning. The time of prayer was so powerful that Wesley wrote in his journal, “Such a night I scarce ever saw before. Surely the fruit of it shall remain forever.” After the initial use, it came to be used most frequently at New Years, and over the centuries, this prayer has continually been adapted and used by congregations all around the world as a means of grace, a way to renew our faith and commit to a closer walk with Christ (cf. Folmsbee, The Wesley Prayer Challenge, pg. 16).

So here’s the challenge. I want to ask you for the next three weeks to pray this prayer as part of your regular devotions. Pray it at least once a day. Don’t just say it; pray it. And then let God do what God wants to do in and through you. It’s not a magic prayer, but I do believe that as these words become a part of us, God will do some significant things in our life and our community. So, to help you get started, we’re going to pray the prayer together first. Join with me (the words are on the screen):

I am no longer my own, but thine.

Put me to what thou wilt, rank me with whom thou wilt.

Put me to doing, put me to suffering.

Let me be employed by thee or laid aside for thee,

Exalted for thee or brought low for thee.

Let me be full, let me be empty.

Let me have all things, let me have nothing.

I freely and heartily yield all things

To thy pleasure and disposal.

And now, O glorious and blessed God,

Father, Son and Holy Spirit,

Thou art mine, and I am thine. So be it.

And the covenant which I have made on earth,

Let it be ratified in heaven. Amen.

So today we’re going to focus on the first part of the prayer, which for me is the most challenging part to pray. It’s these words that get me, and maybe you hesitated a bit, too, as you prayed them just now: “Put me to doing, put me to suffering.” Now, that first part I get. I’m all about doing. Doing I can…well, do. I was brought up under that demanding Protestant work ethic, and in my head I often hear the words that Bishop Woodie White spoke over us at my ordination: “Never be unemployed a moment. Never be triflingly employed. Never while away time; neither spend any more time at any place than is strictly necessary” (“Wesley’s Rules for Preachers”). Doing I can do, but suffering? Asking God to “put me to suffering?” What’s that all about?

To get something of an answer, we turn to our Gospel passage for this morning, which tells about the second time Jesus sends a group out to preach the good news. One chapter earlier, Jesus had sent the twelve disciples out on a mission to proclaim the good news and to heal people (9:6). Now, the mission has expanded. Our text this morning said he is sending seventy-two people out; some of your translations may say “70,” and there is a lot of ink spilled among scholars over those two (may or may not be missing) people—a debate I don’t plan to get into this morning because the main point is…Jesus sent out a whole bunch of people, two by two, out to the places where he is about to go (10:1). He sends them two-by-two not just because it’s safer to travel in twos but also because, in Jewish law, you had to have two witnesses to verify the truth of something (cf. Card, Luke: The Gospel of Amazement, pg. 134). They are the “advance guard,” so to speak. It’s like when Billy Graham was going to come to preach to a community, there would be a whole team of people who would go to that community, meet with the pastors, and get everything ready for Graham to arrive. That seems to be what these disciples are doing. They’re the “warm-up band” before Jesus takes the stage.

Jesus tries to prepare them. He gives them some very specific instructions, much like he gave the twelve a chapter earlier. Don’t take anything—not even shoes, which honestly is a little weird, but I think it’s to help them rely on the generosity of God’s people. Don’t talk to anyone, which stresses the urgency of the mission. In other words, he says, don’t get distracted so that you forget your purpose. I know none of you ever do that, but there are so many times I start to do something, then do something else on the way and when I get to where I was going I can’t remember why I went there! Jesus tells these disciples: don’t be like Dennis! Don’t talk to anyone, don’t get distracted, focus on the mission. That’s also a good reminder for his church especially at the beginning of a new year. Sometimes we forget what our mission is. The Church—big C church—does a lot of good things, a lot of necessary things, but when we start to think those things are our purpose, we’re on the wrong road, we’re distracted. We have to keep the main thing the main thing. Everything we do is for one purpose and one purpose only: to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. Don’t get distracted, Church. Stay focused on the goal, the mission, our purpose.

There are other instructions about how to behave once they get to the town, and all of these instructions are given because he is sending them out into an uncertain future. Many if not most of these people have never been very far from home. Some of them may have been to Jerusalem for a festival or two—it was expected that every good Jew would come to Jerusalem for Passover at least once in their lifetime—but for the most part, they have been born, raised, gotten married, had kids and live all in the same town. So to be sent to towns they have never been to, towns in which they know no one, towns which may even be hostile toward them…well, that’s a big leap of faith. That’s asking a lot. Jesus is sending them to places that might even frighten them. So he gives them instructions to try to reassure them. He’s not telling them it’s going to be easy. He says they may even not be welcomed. They may be asked to leave. They might be threatened. They may have to “shake the dust of the town” off their sandals. The mission he’s sending them on is uncertain at best, maybe even dangerous.

Not unlike the new year we are heading into. Last year I said that 2021 looked like it was going to be 2020 Part 2, and 2022 is at least starting out like 2021 continued. The pandemic rages on. We continue to get new variants of differing strengths and capabilities. Arguments rage over prevention and vaccinations and conspiracies and masks and distancing. And no matter where you land on any of that, the truth is it’s an uncertain time. I had planned to be on a plane to Israel a week from tomorrow but due to great uncertainty around the virus, that’s not happening. On top of that, 2022 promises more political strife, some even thinking it might result in a second civil war. I’d like to think we’re better than that, but when I read comments on Facebook and other places online, my confidence begins to waver. Are we better than that? And it’s popular to blame one or another politician or party for the division, but the reality is the divisions were already there. The tension of the last few elections, the increasing volume of political rhetoric and the pandemic have only brought what was hidden out into the open. Before, we sensed the future was uncertain; now we know it is.

And then there’s our own denominational uncertainty. For nearly all of our 50+ year history, United Methodists have been arguing over issues surrounding human sexuality, and honestly, while that’s the presenting issue, that’s what we talk about all the time, the real issue is deeper than that. It has to do with Biblical authority, with what we believe this faith is. We had an embarrassing General Conference in 2019, where no one acted well toward “the other side,” and then a protocol for separation was negotiated and scheduled to be voted on in 2020. Then in 2021. And now it’s scheduled for this coming fall. Whether that will happen or not is anyone’s guess. But whether it does or not, as United Methodists we have an uncertain future. This I can tell you, however: whatever happens denominationally, Mount Pleasant will continue doing what we do. We will continue to be a place where the lost are found, where God’s grace is experienced, and where all are loved. We will continue to be a place where we make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world, no matter what sign is or isn’t on the front door.

Still, like those 72 disciples of Jesus, we stand on the brink of a lot of uncertainty. And that, I think, is where some of the beauty of this Wesley prayer comes through if we can honestly pray it with our whole hearts. When we pray, “Put me to suffering,” we’re not asking for God to send pestilence, plague and a pandemic on us. We’re not asking God to make us hurt in body, soul and spirit. There’s a name for someone who asks for things like that: they’re called a masochist. No, in the context of the prayer, this is actually a word of surrender. It’s dying to our own self-interest, which always seeks comfort and privilege. It’s yielding to God’s plan, resisting the urge to take care of ourselves first but to instead look after others. It’s pushing past what we want and living into what God wants for our lives. That’s what these disciples had to do; despite whatever uncertainty might lie ahead, they had to be willing to go where Jesus sent them and do what Jesus asked of them, no matter what the consequences were. If suffering came, then so be it. That’s surrender. “To pray, ‘put me to suffering,’ is to pray, ‘God, above all else and with all obedience, I place your will first in my life’” (Folmsbee 54-55).

One of my heroes of the faith is Rich Mullins (though it’s hard to believe he died almost 25 years ago). Mullins was born in Richmond, Indiana, wrote music for artists like Debby Boone and Amy Grant and then went on to record his own work, the most famous of which is probably and probably always will be, “Awesome God.” At the point he was on the fast track to become a big star in Christian music, Mullins responded to what he read in the Gospels and chose to follow a different path. He began taking a salary equal to an average laborer’s pay and the rest of the money made from his music was given to charitable causes. He moved to a Navajo reservation in New Mexico to teach music to children and the last time I saw him in concert, shortly before his death, he performed in a white t-shirt, ripped jeans and no shoes. He did not dress to impress. Mullins didn’t believe everyone had to live like he did. He once said, “You have to figure out where you're most alive, most vital, and go there. For some people, that's a music career or being a housewife. For me, it's being here.” After concerts, he would sign autographs, as many do, and he always wrote a two-word phrase above his name: “Be God’s.” That was his heart. No matter what else came, our calling is just that: to be God’s, to belong to our creator.

We can pray, “Put me to suffering,” because we’ve already prayed the first part of the prayer: “I am no longer my own, but thine.” That’s the prayer these seventy-two disciples had to pray to be able to go to uncertain towns and spread the good news. That’s the prayer we still need to pray as we face this new year: “I am no longer my own, but thine.” And I also believe it’s a prayer we need to pray every day, to remind us who it is that is in control of our lives, who we’ve given our lives over to. That’s one of the things I want to happen in my life through this series; I have gotten out of the habit of praying that every morning like I used to. I need to remind myself each morning to “Be God’s.” 

So this morning, we’re going to share holy communion together, but before we do that I need to tell you one more thing about this series. You’ve seen hints on social media that we’ve been preparing a special place in the church. The idea came out of a conversation McKenzie Barber and I were having about creating space, especially during this series, where people could genuinely pray. That led to renovating the Chapel into a Prayer Chapel, a cozy-comfy place where individuals or groups can gather in God’s presence. So today, we’re officially opening the space and inviting you in. I’m excited for you to see it, and to experience it as a genuine quiet and set aside place where you can come and pray.

So, as we prepare our hearts for holy communion, we’re going to pray this prayer again, and then when you come forward to receive communion, we have some bookmarks with the prayer printed on it that you can take with you and put somewhere you’ll find it each morning. We’ll also leave copies in the new prayer chapel for you to use there if you like. But right now, let’s pray and move toward communion to start this new year off on the right foot.