The Jesus Prayer

(written by Chance Williamson)

In 2004 I didn't understand prayer anymore. In fact, my whole spiritual life was being uprooted and reconfigured. To make a long story short however, I'll keep this story to prayer. Like everything, I could no longer continue doing things as I had always done them. In the Christian tradition I came from prayer was something you did in two ways. The first was alone in seclusion, however there was no room for contemplation. It seemed as if the more words you said made you more holy. Almost like you had to complete a 4,000-word prayer so you could get an A plus in God's grade book. The second way to pray was in community. At first it would seem normal. One person would stand up and begin to pray. Normal. But then, a cacophony of voices would join in with their own personal prayers. A jumble, a mess with no thought or direction. Sure, a topic would be stated but like a good hiking trail, we would always veer off and each would trudge our own path. The more you said, the louder you said it, the more holy you were. That's the way it was.

After Bible College I stumbled upon a simple prayer, the Jesus Prayer. "Lord Jesus son of God, have mercy on me a sinner." It is a mantra. It follows your pattern of breath. When you inhale you recite in your mind, "Lord Jesus son of God." When you exhale you say, "Have mercy on me a sinner."

"Lord Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner." This is the prayer I pray; the Prayer of the Saints of old, those beautiful and ragtag few who have gone before me, all praying, screaming the same mantra, joining with me in a chorus of praise and need. In one breath, I call on my savior, my Lover, hailing him as King and Lord of my life. As I exhale I am reminded, as it is always ever present on my mind, of how much I need Him.

Oh, what a wretched man I am! Paul coined that phrase but it seems that I have bought the rights. I sit, praying, hoping, knowing that God sees through my cloud of guilt and shame, but I still want to beat my chest. As the tears flow His grace once again washes over me. Oh what a beautiful sweet grace.

Why can't we understand this grace we speak of so much? We are a church of imperfect people pretending perfection. This lie of perfection, this facade, is waning. It is the junkyard dog nipping at our heals. I pray the dog does catch us. When it does, it will rip and tear, true, but what it rips and tears will only be that which needs to be stripped off anyway, our self righteousness. My self-righteousness is killing me.

Until we as the church realize our own imperfection can we operate as only Jesus foresaw. A Church of prostitutes, derelicts, tax collectors, homeless, diseased, terrorists, homosexuals, liars, and thieves all saved by the Grace of God that I am wrestling with right now. What irony this is. We spend our time trying to be good enough and Jesus is simply saying, "Stop trying, you're just spinning your wheels. Let me lead you. We are wild, crazy, and messed up, but I wouldn't have it any other way!"

In this I find my comfort. So let me simply end where I began. "Lord Jesus, Son of God, Have mercy on me a sinner."