by Mica Wegener
Growing up in the Lutheran church, each Sunday our prayers were uttered in unison. After each prayer, the congregation paused and, with a certain confidence that comes with familiarity, recited, “Lord, in your mercy, hear out prayer.”
For many years I thought these prayers were empty. I felt it was a cop-out of sorts –- if you were really talking to God, then why would you need the words printed in a bulletin? And if this whole Jesus thing was relational and personal, then why on earth would we say the exact same line over and over as if we had nothing better to say? In His great mercy, God has since changed my understanding.
You see, I find it is far easier now to talk to God in my car, to write a prayer in my journal, or to quietly speak with him during church in the safe walls of my mind. But in this public confession, in this communal declaration that the liturgy provides, I cannot escape –- we cannot escape –- the fact that we, too, need His great mercy, and not just those for whom we are praying.
You may be wondering about now, what does this have to do with Spilling Hope? And I would tell you, the answer is everything. Long before the campaign began this spring, as our community group met to carefully plan the events, I was under the impression that I would be the one giving; I would be the one spilling hope. I was quite wrong. Yes, that is a piece of it, but I needed God’s mercy to re-direct my prayers, to reveal to me greater depths of what he does through things like this campaign.
After Film Night came to a close, I stood in a circle conversing with some of the panelists, when one said something that struck me. He said “We seem to be under the impression that people need Jesus, and that’s the main point. Most of these people don’t need Jesus –- they already have Jesus. It’s not that they’re all poor and need Jesus. It’s that they’re poor, they have Jesus, and they need water. And water –- money -– is something we have and can give.” And then, it all became painfully clear. I had missed the point. All this time I had been praying for reconciliation in Africa, when I too need to be reconciled: to my brothers and sisters in Seattle, to those across the oceans, and most importantly: to God. He calls us to learn about His Kingdom, and in doing so, to live in it. This task is far from easy. Giving generously and living aware of others is one piece of it. In learning about the need for water in Africa, I have learned about my own need for living water in Christ. In learning how they spend their precious time, I, in turn, learn how foolishly I use my own. And in learning how much they need, I have begun to see how much more I could give. In understanding their need, I have heard my call. I need them just as much as they need me. You see, in seeking to bring reconciliation, I have found that I need to be reconciled myself: reconciled to the call which I have so often not answered. And in seeking to serve communities I thought were in need of Christ, I have found my own desperate need for Him. In spilling hope, hope I did not know I needed has been spilled into my life. Would you pray with me?
Lord, two in every fifty people that hear about need in the world actually respond. May we be a people who not only respond with our words, but also in our actions.
Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Father, we thank you for the resources you’ve so greatly blessed us with. The average person in our nation uses 100 gallons of water a day, compared to the 5 gallons most people in Africa and developing countries have to use. Lord, teach us to preserve what you’ve given us, and to respond in gratitude.
Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Jesus, as we learn, grant us eyes to see our own need. As we give, keep our hands open. And when we fall short in our efforts, send your grace to remind us that we, too, are being reconciled and reformed. Spill upon us your hope, as we dance in the rain of your love with our brothers and sisters around the world.
Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.
