Delivered on Sunday 25 July 2010 in St George's Chapel

Luke 11:1-13

If by chance you were to bump into David Beckham what would you say to him? Indeed, what would he say to you? Imagine your surprise if he should look at you quizzically and inquire of you how best to play football? Why would David Beckham want to ask me, of all people, about football, is that not what he does for a living? Well if the idea of David Beckham asking me about football is mildly ridiculous; so is the idea of the disciples asking Jesus how to pray. These men were practising Jews, they would have known a thing or two about how to pray; they would have known to stand with palms outstretched; they have known the words of the daily prayers. Given all this why do they say to Jesus 'teach us how to pray'?
Well, that is how we have traditionally remembered those words but the text itself is just a little different. It does not say 'teach us how to pray' but 'teach us to pray' (there is no how). Just a little while before, the disciples had seen Jesus in prayer. They will have noted that he addressed God as Father and that in his prayer he clearly states that nobody knows who the Father is except the Son. Having seen Jesus in prayer and having heard him address God by the word Father, they are intrigued. Their request to Jesus, then, is perhaps not one about how they should pray in the sense of what words should be used, rather how to pray with Jesus' own attitude of prayer, the confidence with which he could approach the one he dared to call Father. We shall return to this is a moment.
For now, I am simply going to observe that the account we heard this morning from Luke's gospel is very similar if a little briefer to the one given to us by Matthew. But like Matthew there is the assurance that we can ask the Father for our daily bread, and as Matthew continues by way of explanation "your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things". It appears that daily bread in the mind of the Gospel writers is not limited to bread but is a symbol for all the things we need for life; all the things we need for life.
That little notion got me thinking. I began by assuming that most of us would feel confident that we know what is meant by the word 'things'. We know what 'things' are. But is our confidence well placed. Let's spend a little bit of time thinking about 'things' and what they are. Let's begin with some easy 'things'. I suspect most of us would say that a car, a book, a flower would all belong to what we call things? What though would we say about a smile? Is a smile a thing or is merely a modification of a thing we call a mouth. I suppose this is a bit like asking where does your lap go when you stand up? These two examples help us to sharpen up the way we speak about 'things'. I guess a smile is a thing but it is not an individual thing, and that is what it appears we are really interested in. So, thus far, we can this: we want to know not so much about 'things' but more about 'individual things'. And have firstly concluded that things that are modifications of other things are not themselves individual things. A smile, a frown, a wrinkle, a hole, these are not individual things; they are modifications of other things.
We can go further. We can say that a thing is not an individual thing if it is a mere collection of things. For example, you would say that the army is not an individual thing. The army is made up of individual soldiers. And the army that existed in 1914 is not the army that exists in 2010; its individual soldiers are entirely different. We can go still further, a thing is not an individual thing if it's a universal, by which I mean if it can have instances. War and Peace, the novel, is not an individual thing but my copy of the novel is. And we can go even further still, a thing is not an individual thing it if is an event. Events like the Second World War or the industrialisation of Japan start, happen, and end. Individual things, by contrast, come into existence, endure, go out of existence. Now I think we have made some considerable progress. We can now say what an individual thing is not. It is not a modification of other things, it is not a mere collection of things, it is not a universal, and it is not an event.
Some of you will now be thinking, That's all very well but all he's told us so far is what an individual thing is not; is he ever going to get around to saying what it is! Good point and that's where we go next but I will not be successful. There are several views but we shall look at just two. The first one is a view - somewhat updated mind you - held by the seventeenth century philosopher Leibniz. Think of something you feel sure belongs to the class of individual things. Let us, for the sake of argument, think of a car. Surely a car is an individual thing. And certainly from out thinking so far, there is no reason to think it's not. And yet a car is without question a collection of other things - wheels, seats, gears, doors and so on. And doors are also collections of other things - frames, metal sheets, fixings, handles and so on. And thinking about it you could go further and say that every individual thing is made up of atoms or precisely, subatomic particles. In other words, every individual thing is nothing more than a modification of subatomic particles. If you are a hard-line follower of Leibniz you will conclude that there are not many things at all, there are simply subatomic particles and all apparently individual things are mere modifications of those particles. Not many things - just one thing.
If this makes you feel uncomfortable you could track down Aristotle, the ancient Greek writer. He would tell you that individual things cannot be just a modification of particles. He might tell you about Laurel and Hardy. As far as we are concerned Laurel and Hardy is a comedy team, it is an individual thing. But there was a time when Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy existed but were unknown to each other. Laurel for example was born in England, while Hardy was born in America; they both existed but in different places. The components that went to make up the team Laurel and Hardy were both alive and well but they were not for some period of their lives, the famous comedy duo. So, argues Aristotle, there is something more to individual things than a mere modification of particles. But what? That is hard to say and most definitely a question for another day. And although we leave Aristotle's view shrouded in mystery we are nudged into thinking that there may well be something in it.
We must now return to the disciples and their request. "Jesus, teach us to pray with your attitude, your confidence." Jesus begins his answer. Say this: Father, hallowed be your name. Father, let us acknowledge that you are separate, apart. He does this because he knows full well that whatever God is, he is not a thing. God is not a thing. God did not come into existence and God will not go out of existence. God is not a modification of subatomic particles. God is not a thing.
But he is in some sense a provider, which is why we can ask 'Give us today our daily bread'. God is not a thing but God has brought all things into existence and sustains the very conditions under which that existence persists. The fine exacting details of the universe, the extraordinary economy of oxygen and carbon dioxide that is traded between animals and plants, the modification of particles that give us the idea of things. Leibniz and Aristotle may both have been right. Individual things are indeed modifications of particles but the possible combinations are not infinite; the possible combinations are held in the mind of God; God gives things their 'essence'. And so it is that no thing exists independently of God. No wonder we must ask God for our daily bread.
But not just for our bread but also for forgiveness of our debts. We are indebted to those human beings who contribute to our living, those who are near us and extend their love to us; those who maintain the roads and services we use; those who provide us with a secure and safe environment. We are indebted to the earth for the water we drink and the air we breathe. We are indebted to the sun for light and warmth. We are indebted up to our necks. But most of all we are indebted to God who makes any and all existence possible, who holds creation in the palm of his hand.
Of this God we find it difficult to speak. We are conditioned to think in terms of things and when we come to the understanding that God is not a thing our language fails us. We were able to say what an individual thing is not and we may feel able to say what God is not. We found it much hard to say what an individual thing is, we will find it harder still to speak truthfully about God. But we can begin to speak hesitantly.
In the individual thing that was the body of Jesus Christ dwelt God. In Jesus' life, death and resurrection we learn something about the grammar we need if we are to learn to speak of God at all. To be involved in that business is to learn the attitude of Jesus. To regard God as the one in whom all creation lives and moves and has it's being; to know ourselves, not as independent creatures who control our environment, but as rather meagre but wonderful creatures who are absolutely dependent on God. If we can come to this kind of self-knowledge our prayerful attitude will become instinctive. As George Herbert once wrote about prayer, it is God's breath in man returning to his birth.