O Lord, make us have perpetual love and reverence for your holy Name … (Collect for Proper 7, Book of Common Prayer)
One day, out on the playground of the elementary school I attended, one of my classmates got into a tussle with some bullies. The mate wasn’t a friend; it’s even possible he had said or done something that instigated the childish taunts and abuses that were directed at him, but I never liked bullies or cruelty, and so I butted in. I told his tormentors to leave him alone. They laughed, of course, because I had no standing on the playground. I was just another nameless, faceless kid who worked hard to blend seamlessly into the scenery.
Not this time. For some reason I have yet to grasp, I felt I needed to address the situation, which I did. The biggest of the toughs turned, snarled, and asked, “Who’s gonna make me?”
I ignored his question, but he didn’t. He let go of his hapless victim and turned his attention on me, and while I would love to say I cleaned his clock in a battle amongst Titans, we simply wrestled a minute or so until he got tired of holding me in a headlock, or the bell rang, whichever came first. The other lad had run off, leaving me to face the three toughs solo, but I guess I had won in that they let the first kid go. That was good enough, and I returned to my life as a chameleon.
The prayer quoted above begins with a strange request: Lord, MAKE us … Make us have perpetual love … Make us have reverence … Make us. We’re asking God to do something unnatural. We’re asking God to force us to do something we may not want to do. Who’s going to “make us” love? “Make us” revere? If there’s force involved, can it be voluntary or genuine? It is an awkward thing to pray for.
On the other hand, “make” can also refer to a manufacturing process. When I make a sandwich, I am doing something. I’m taking bread, butter, mayonnaise, meats, cheeses, and lettuce and creating something that would please Dagwood no end. Asking God to “make us,” in that sense, is asking God to take the raw ingredients of our humanity and mix it with a wide variety of other ingredients so that the end result is something or someone who is pleasingly reverent and loving.
I suppose the starting point of such a prayer assumes that you and I (who, together, form the “us” in the prayer) aren’t yet who or what we should be – right? Prayer can be quite dangerous that way – almost subversive. I mean, the intent of prayer isn’t to change God’s mind or God’s plan; it’s to change us! At first blush, prayer looks like a wish list aimed at God to “get up and do something,” but in reality, God most often effects change through people like you and me.
If we are serious about wanting God to develop perpetual love in us (presumably love for God, neighbor, and self), God may well answer by sending unlovable people and intolerable situations in our direction. If one wants to become stronger, one needs to exercise, right? If I want abs of steel, I need to do more crunches and situps and whatever else fitness gurus insist will get the job done. Asking God to improve our love-life, in effect, may require numerous unpleasant encounters!
The fact is that we are always under construction. The world makes us cold, selfish, arrogant, bitter, quarrelsome, and more (Galatians 5). We have a God who is willing and able to make us lights with which to chase away the darkness, brightening up our neighbor’s day. St. Paul reminds us the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, and so much more.
Jesus is the Bread of Life; we pray for God to make something delightful, loving, and reverent of us. That’s actually a great prayer, isn’t it?
Between the world and God, it’s God who makes the better sandwich with the bologna we have to offer. God always will here in this, our valley.
Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of newly released: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available exclusively through Amazon in Print and e-book)
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