Today I offer to you the second part of Pulpit Prayers by David C. Fisher of the Oxboro Evangelical Free Church in Bloomington, Minnesota. If you missed the first part, please go here to read it first, then return to this post. The final part will be posted tomorrow.
In the back on the left side, another young couple sat seeting with rage. Their marriage was on the rocks. They had asked me to help, and I had tried so hard, yet it seemed to make little difference. How to undo so much damage? I wondered what they experienced from worship.
In front of them a mother agonized over her runaway daughter. The only word she had received was that she was living in a commune.
Nearby a depressed and suicidal woman wrestled with life itself. Her husband had accompanied her. The struggle had rearranged his entire life. They looked spent. They reminded me of a man not present that day. A recent widower, he scarcely had the will to go on. For days at a time he didn’t leave his house. One day we knelt by his couch and asked God for help. He cried. I prayed.
A few pews away a young man’s three sons surrounded him. His wife had left them all to “find herself”, so he struggled alone to raise the boys. I realized I had never seen him smile.
The woman in front of him was also sad. Her alcoholic husband abused her. Being from another culture, she wrestled with a strange language, different customs, and raw fear.
I felt so helpless. Falteringly, as I offered myself in ministry, I was learning powerful lessons about the complicated web of life. I had so much to learn.
As the organist concluded the offertory, I saw other faces. Many of the people were happy; they didn’t appear burdened or sad. I saw new Christians, newly-weds, new parents, and new beginnings. Although some worshiped with tears, others sang and prayed with smiles of joy. Nearly all waited expectantly for something from me, for my prayer and sermon.
The music stopped—time for the pastoral prayer. I stood to begin.
But the faces and lives of the people tumbled in my mind. Overcome, I could scarely speak. Such enormous need! What a variety of experience! How could I pray pastorally? Could I possibly speak to God and touch these people’s lives at the same time?
