On September 11, 2001, United Airlines Flight 93 left the Newark, New Jersey, airport and began its journey to San Francisco. Everything appeared to be normal on the flight until terrorists took over the plane. Todd Beamer, one of the passengers, tried to make a call on one of the seat-back phones, but his call was routed to a customer service representative at Verizon, the carrier that provided service on United Airlines. He eventually spoke to a supervisor there. Other passengers, through their own phone calls, had heard the news that hijacked planes had hit the World Trade Center. Those on board realized that the terrorists likely intended to crash their plane into a public building, conceivably the White House or the Capitol. Then a seemingly unlikely thing happened. A group of strangers banded together to fight the terrorists, knowing that the probable outcome would be death. Just before charging the cockpit, Todd Beamer asked the operator with whom he’d been speaking if she would recite the Lord’s Prayer with him. Surrounded by chaos and with the knowledge of almost certain death, this young man quietly spoke those words we all know. Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name…..ancient words, but words that are alive with the Holy Spirit’s power.
This story, out of all the heart-wrenching happenings of that day, is one that I have never forgotten. Ancient words. Within this special arrangement of letters, we find one of the most famous passages in the Bible. I like to imagine all the people who have spoken those words, in their own languages in their own times. Did the prayer provide solace to someone in grief, joy to someone shackled in slavery, a haven to someone in danger? I imagine the sound of the words. Were they whispered, shouted, murmured, spoken in solitude, or quietly recited, creating a moment of peace in the middle of violence?
For us, the words of the Bible are ancient words, written many years ago by men long gone from this world. It is an old book, tested by time, picked apart by scholars, scorned by the skeptical, and yet it is also a living book, a holy book, preserved by mankind, the spread of its message often accompanied by martyrdom.
I suppose it is a common failing of us all that we sometimes walk blithely through our days, confident in our own self-sufficiency, going about here and there intent on our plans, giving only a minimal amount of thought to our spiritual lives. Then, oh, me, something happens and our nice, tidy world is turned upside down, and we sink lower and lower, overwhelmed by our situation. It is then that we finally look for an answer to our problem outside of ourselves. We remember, far later than we should, that we have the best problem solver ever. We pray harder, we search the Bible, and yes, we find words that comfort and soothe us. For me, the search for solace came after a move out of state, far away to northeast Alabama where my husband had taken a teaching job in a little, bitty town. At first, I was excited to be in our apartment on the lake. I was a newly retired teacher and was giddy with the knowledge that I had hours and hours every day just for some ME time. After a while, however, I got homesick. There’s a reason it’s called homeSICKness. I felt very sick and then very depressed. I missed my family and friends, my house back in Duffee, Mississippi. I longed, desperately, to be home. Yes, I was an adult, an older adult, and I felt that my inability to adjust to a new situation was a weakness, but I just couldn’t help it. Finally, I turned to my Bible and prayer. I spent many hours reading in the Book of Psalms. I read in Psalm 18:6, “In my distress I called upon the Lord; to my God I cried for help. From his temple He heard my voice, and my cry to him reached his ears.” I found encouragement in reading, “Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5) Of course, joy did not literally come the next morning, but I understood that my homesickness would one day end and that, yes, I would feel joy again. Some day. The point is, the Bible gave me comfort, just like Linus with his blanket in the Charlie Brown comics, except in a grown-up sort of way.
Years after this experience, we were getting ready to move out of our apartment on the lake into a brand new house. We had over many months worked and worked to the point of exhaustion on this house. I remember our son Caleb hauling bricks for the front porch while he had the flu. Nothing stopped the work schedule on the house. I remember the too-short trip back home to Duffee to celebrate Christmas and then making the four and a half hour drive back to the house the day after Christmas to work on the chimney. It was a frigid winter day, and I burst into tears when I walked into the dark, cold house to continue our work. We were making payments both on the house and on our apartment until we could move out. I felt overwhelmed with worry and was tired beyond any sort of tired I had ever experienced. I felt adrift and anxious. I had become too busy to find rest and peace. What a mistake! I needed to be reminded of this: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7) I realized, finally, that we all needed to take a time out. With the help of a wonderful Christian doctor, the love of family and friends, and some space for spiritual and emotional renewal, life returned to a better “normal,” and we finished the house, finally able to enjoy the fruits of our extraordinarily difficult, long, long hours and hours of labor.
After these lessons and some additional, less difficult ones, I am working on trying to be more deliberate about my Bible study and prayer time. I know that I need to be more intentional in my planning. I remember a discussion in our Life Group that the Christian life must be one of purpose and action. We are either going forward or backward in our Christian walk. Standing still is not an option if we are to grow strong. If we’re not going forward and growing, we become spiritually weak. Going forward keeps us strong, and we’re better able to face the hard times. They’re out there. I know this from personal experience, and I know you do, too. There have been other difficult times for my family, some not so serious and others which were heartbreaking, when we had to deal with the loss of my husband’s mother and father. Through those times, however, there was an amazing peace, a truly supernatural peace that comes only from God.
So, the words that comfort us, heal us, uplift us, those ancient words are with us still, repeated for centuries. There is a weight to the words because throughout them runs the blood of Jesus, the love of the Father. They are words to live for, be reborn for, and for some, the words to die for that they might be preserved.
When you have a quiet moment today, experience the Lord’s Prayer. But wait, before you begin, imagine all those who have repeated the words before you, many, many times across the ages, across the world. Imagine the words rising to heaven. They are ancient words but, at the same time, they are timeless words…Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name…