“Prayer Place”
“Prayer Place”
Isaiah 40:21-31 Psalm 147:1-11, 20c Mark 1:29-39
Year B, Fifth Sunday after Epiphany
February 4, 2024
Pastor Andy Kennaly, Sandpoint, Idaho
When I worked at a church camp as the Program Director, one of the things I noticed about outdoor ministries is that it has become an industry. Part of my job was to create several retreats per year, especially for church youth groups. Some of the retreats had themes, like snow camp, or confirmation. Some were for middle school, some for high school, and some, a mix of these ages. In addition, other groups would rent the camp facilities and we would host them, all the while planning for the big event, summer camp; that 24/7 ten weeks of intensity.
Another part of my job was to travel to promote the camp, mostly visiting churches, but also attending some of the meetings held by the four presbyteries and larger synod affiliated with the camp. There were many people to see, many budgets to encourage for including camp as a mission. There were also national conferences, not only to attend, but to help coordinate as part of a planning team, especially for the industry’s annual Program Connection, where Program Directors from around the country converged for training, ideas, and mutual support.
It was amazing to have people from all around the region, and even the country, come to the camp for a time and place set apart from normal routines. Many lives were changed in the various aspects of camps or retreats, from cabin time with a group of peers and a caring leader, to adventures of the high ropes and teams courses and all-camp games, to time on the water in kayaks and canoes, along with campfires, small group Bible studies, and all-camp worship times filled with singing, prayer, and reflections. Outdoor ministries are important for lots of reasons, and God uses camp to share the message of Jesus in experiential ways as Christian community forms and flourishes, often in lovely settings that usually involve woods and water, hiking trails, lodges, cabins, and a tee shirt to bring home.
But camps have budgets and payrolls and ongoing maintenance. As an industry, a business, I noticed part of this dynamic involved selling our program. I had to attend a few business fairs with our booth set up, to attract people. But it didn’t sit right with me. I didn’t like having to “sell” the program, to commodify our services and compete with other groups at other tables. They had cool displays, they had sports camps, they had crowds around their exhibits.
It wasn’t long after attending one of these business fairs that I decided to leave the industry. I felt I was born a generation too late, and the style and energy vibe of outdoor ministry had shifted. I also noticed that the staff at camp was overworked. To provide rest and reflection to participants, expectations were very high, and the calendar was relentless. In many ways, we were not practicing what we preached. I thought it was ironic at a church camp that spiritual direction took a back seat to the more functional aspects of programming.
How do we focus on soul work in a culture that pushes money, productivity, competitiveness, and the deadlines of tight schedules? Do we need to take drastic action, extreme measures, like St. Francis of Assisi who told people to treat money like dung? He lived in the tyranny of feudalism with the splits of lords and peasants, and he saw materialism budding as a merchant class of businesses emerged. He also witnessed the first church bells installed, which rang out the hours throughout the day and night, and for the first time, agrarian, seasonal rhythms were overcome by the concept of measurable time. It wasn’t long before time became something counted, and assigned value, time as money. Time could also run short, or be wasted.
Time is evident in the story from Mark. Notice the words, “as soon as they left the synagogue,” and Simon’s mother-in-law was ill. “They told [Jesus] about her at once.” He healed her and she began to serve them. This was all during the Sabbath, healing on the Sabbath. Jesus breaks the rules and goes against non-negotiables of religion and tradition. Everybody else waited. “That evening, at sunset,” this is when other people come for healing. It was a long night; the whole city had gathered around the door.
At the end of this passage Jesus says, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns…and he went throughout all Galilee” to teach and heal. “Let us go,” and “he went.” Lots of movement, playing with time and space, and questioning the validity of rules and religious interpretations. Yet amid all this, Jesus sneaks away. “In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.” This is pivotal. A short line within an active drama. Short, but important. The entire gospel story, the larger biblical narrative, depends on what the outcome of this quiet time involves.
The disciples were on the hunt, everyone looked for him. What their motivation was, it’s hard to say. Speculation could include the excitement of setting up shop in Capernaum to create a healing and wellness center. They could make lots of money and be famous throughout the world. Word was getting out; they didn’t need to advertise. The crowds would come to them. Maybe Jesus could teach them this skill. What a success they would be!
But his answer to these disciples that “hunted” him, and their observation that “everyone is searching for you,” deflects all this potential of a home base. “Let us go on.” Maybe they thought he wanted to develop a regional approach. Visit other synagogues and cast out demons from Galilee. He knows the dialect, has the twang, can relate with folks, and relieve their suffering.
But even Jesus can’t do anything without first having a prayer place. Jesus needs solitude, one on one with God, intentional focus on relational Presence. This is where the center is found, the hub, the hinge from which all other aspects of life emanate and find purpose.
As we gather around the table, we are encouraged in, through, and by love. Coming to church and having communion is a sacred moment, but we also need, like Jesus, a prayer place. What James Finley often calls our “daily rendezvous with God” is something that is important, yet so easily gets swept away by the demands of everything else that insist on attention in our industrial culture. But if being a Christian means to become more and more like Jesus, then we need to learn the discipline of prayer and solitude. If we don’t, we will always take ourselves too seriously and assume too many non-negotiables are more important than the depths of healing and wholeness the Living Christ invites us to experience.
In a world of hype, especially as Western culture promotes sports and entertainment that create noise and distraction, the big game, this message can be obscure. Jesus got up, went out to a deserted place, and prayed. This took place “in the morning, while it was still very dark.” It was not only dark, but very dark. This could be a time thing, like a marker of the deep part of the night; it was still very dark. But it seems like the stillness is more important than the schedule. It was still. It was still, very dark. Very still, very dark. In the depths of our soul, love invites. Love does not impose or demand. Love invites. It is this loving stillness that becomes the center on which all other activity finds grounding in foundation ways. The Divinity of Love lives in and as our life, and Jesus invites us to follow, to go on and teach, heal, and discover.
Thanks be to God for the prayer place within our heart. God lives in our heart, and heaven is where God is. Heaven is within. May we celebrate as Christ’s body in the world, called and sent to put contemplation to action. And may God be glorified in the fullness of time called now, and forever. Amen.