The Inner Room

"But when you pray, go into your inner room, close the door and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you." ~Matthew 6:6

One of the many things we learned on our recent trip to Israel was a bit more about the meaning of this passage, so often read at Ash Wednesday. It comes, this teaching of Jesus, in the midst of a long sermon characterized by a call for deeper, more authentic faith. On the strength of this passage, religious people in the early church (and today, too) set aside a small, dark space like a closet in their homes where they could go to pray. John Wesley is known to have spent the first 2 hours of every day in a space like this, beginning at 4am. (I was reading recently that his mother Susanna, not having the benefit of such a space within their home and maybe being a bit hesitant to lock herself away in a closet with so many children running around -- she had 19, though 9 died in infancy -- just threw her apron over her head and sat in a chair in the kitchen to pray.) All of this is very good, but our guide in Israel gave us some really interesting information that lends some color and deeper meaning to Jesus' command here. As we looked at the stone remnants of homes and neighborhoods in the area of what was probably Peter's mother-in-law's home, he explained that the front room of the average home was for guests to be welcomed and shown hospitality. The next room in was the sleeping area and/or kitchen area, and then at the back of the home the storage area and stable. The word Jesus uses in the passage about praying in secret refers to this store room: quiet and dark, and not part of the busy-ness of the ordinary day. Jesus' instruction here is not about setting aside a special prayer room but about ensuring yourself uninterrupted space and privacy. Today, this could be anywhere...and really, in a certain sense Susanna Wesley came closest to what Jesus meant here.

Prayer closets are still cool, though.

You may have heard me at one time or another mention that I once considered being a hermit. As a child, I fantasized about living in a tiny house in the woods with only God and the animals for company, living off whatever I could harvest or grow myself. Sometimes I thought it might be pretty cool to live in a monastery, one of the ones where the women worship and work and eat together but rarely if ever speak, and where they spend the majority of their time alone in prayer. As I got older I discovered that this wasn't my call, not exactly, but there is still a yearning in me for the quiet and the solitude and the structure and the uninterrupted time with God. So during Lent, I am making a special effort to make room for that in my own life: an inner room in my home and my time, to attend to the inner room of the heart.

All of us are made differently, and so your own yearnings might be very different, but this need to attend to the inner room of the heart is a universal thing. Only you and God will know what your own heart most needs...whether it is a new kind of service, a stretch in giving, a time of fasting, a commitment to more regular Bible study or worship, or something else. Whatever it is, the point is to make room: to be vulnerable and even a bit afraid, so that space is made to be face to face with God. And whatever it is, prayer is most certainly a part of it.

Hundreds of years ago, and in some monasteries today, the daily life of religious people was marked by certain specific times of prayer. It was, and is, an effort to obey Paul's exhortation to pray without ceasing...a constant interruption of daily activity to build the habit of being prayerful in every moment, in every activity. A few years ago, Rachel Held-Evans wrote in a blog post about giving up sleeping in for Lent, and how much she learned by getting up before dawn to pray in the darkness. I couldn't help but be reminded, as I read that, of the Muslim call to prayer we heard at 5:15am every morning in Jerusalem, which in turn reminded me of the church bells at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and the bells at humble Christian monasteries around the world that call the faithful to prayer at dawn, at 9am, at noon, at 3pm, at 6pm, and at 9pm before bed. In some places, the bells are also rung at midnight and 3am. It's called "praying the hours," and I am inspired to pray this way during Lent. The beautiful Arabic music in Jerusalem so early every morning was a song that declared love of God and encouraged prayer saying "prayer is better than sleep, prayer is better than sleep." I'm not sure whether I will successfully manage the midnight and 3am prayers -- though as I age, frankly I am awake at those hours more often than not anyway -- but I am inspired to try.

One ancient tradition is to read and meditate on a psalm at each time of prayer. For those who pray 5

times per day, that means all the psalms are read in 30 days. In village churches and monasteries there are simple liturgies, prayers, and hymns that go along with the hours; at home or in private, you can structure the time however you'd like. Google "praying the hours" and you will find lots of resources to guide you...or, just choose a private, quiet place to pray however your heart leads you.

May this season be one of deep, soul-healing renewal for you, friends. Whatever you try, know that God will join you in it, and will make that inner room a place of joy and peace, "vast, spacious, and plentiful" (Teresa of Avila, 1515-1582).

In God's steadfast love,
Pastor Dawn

Oh, and PS...in worship this season we will be talking about the 5 essential practices of the Christian life, based on Jesus' own walk of faith. Join us Sundays at 9am at Epworth UMC in Fallon, NV for worship, or at 9:30ish on Facebook Live or KVLV radio for just the sermon. Click here to find our Epworth UMC Facebook page.