Let Us Pray
Luke 18:1-8
Illustration
by Thomas Long

When the late composer Leonard Bernstein was composing his famous contemporary Mass — his rock, blues and jazz Mass — he said that he wanted it to be "an honest Mass." What he meant was that he wanted the words and music of this Mass, this worship service, to ring true even to people who didn't see themselves as particularly religious, or churchy.

Well, as such, he knew that the most demanding moment in the Mass would not be "Credo," "I believe." Most people out there believe in the culture, at least believe vaguely, in God. The most demanding moment would not be Credo. It would be Oremus, "Let us pray." Because to pray, to talk to God, we cannot hedge our bets about God, we have to move beyond vagueness and enter into a relationship with God.

Sure enough, in Bernstein's Mass, when it comes time to pray, a chorus begins to intone a traditional prayer of confession, but then a lone tenor voice soars up above the others to sing:

If I could, I'd confess.
Good and loud, nice and slow
Get this load off my chest
Yes, but how Lord, I don't know.

What I say, I don't feel
What I feel, I don't show
What I show, isn't real
What is real, Lord?
I don't know.
No, no, no, I don't know.

According to the Gospel of Luke, Jesus told his disciples a parable because they were having problems with prayer. Now Leonard Bernstein may have assumed that only contemporary, and non-religious people would have problems with prayer, but Jesus knew better. We all have problems with prayer.

Praying without Losing Heart , by Thomas Long