What a Native American Prayer taught me about my own spirituality

I did a funeral the other day for someone who was described as being very spiritual but not in a traditional Christian way. I often hear variations on this description, often accompanied with some sort of apology for some reason. The apology is probably because I'm an ordained minister and therefore represent orthodox spirituality to them (if only they knew me better!).

I also think that for many people they actually don't associate church with spirituality but rather religion, which is totally different in their eyes. To be honest, sometimes they might be right.

In the preparation for the service I'd been asked to look at finding a way to introduce a prayer I regularly use (God be in my head and in my understanding...) in a way that allowed the people their to express their own spirituality and that of the deceased person. For them kindness or goodness would be more appropriate than "God". In thinking about that I'd come up with a form of words that meant I could sill say the prayer as it is and yet make room for people to connect with it as they wished. I often do this with the Lord's Prayer by offering an invitation to join in saying it but not making it an obligation if someone is not comfortable doing so. It's a simple act of pastoral kindness in my view and not some sort of denial of my faith!

So, having sorted out the prayer I was taken a bit by surprise by the Native American prayer that was read by someone at the service. It's called "The Great Spirit Prayer" and here are the words:

Oh, Great Spirit, whose voice I hear in the wind, whose breath gives life to all the world. Hear me; I need your strength and wisdom. Let me walk in beauty, and make my eyes ever behold the red and purple sunset. Make my hands respect the things you have made and my ears sharp to hear your voice. Make me wise so that I may understand the things you have taught my people. Help me to remain calm and strong in the face of all that comes towards me. Let me learn the lessons you have hidden in every leaf and rock. Help me seek pure thoughts and act with the intention of helping others. Help me find compassion without empathy overwhelming me. I seek strength, not to be greater than my brother, but to fight my greatest enemy, Myself. Make me always ready to come to you with clean hands and straight eyes. So when life fades, as the fading sunset, my spirit may come to you without shame.

What struck me most about this prayer is the humility it expresses. This isn't the kind of prayer you might hear most Christians utter as they plead for their finances or job prospects. It's not what you'll hear in some churches as calls for revival or heavenly interventions are made. But as Paul did with the monument to an unknown God, if you substitute "Lord our God", for "Great Spirit" it is a prayer that we can say. Yes there ay be odd elements that we might be careful about (lessons you have hidden in every leaf and rock), but overall it expresses a simplicity of faith that I fear we have somehow lost.

Our problem is that we've disconnected ourselves and our faith from the world around us and reduced it to a form of words we must articulate and not a life we are called to live. The idea of living in harmony with our environment s not some New Age philosophy but surely an expression of our place in a created order for which we have responsibility.

And who wouldn't want to act from a pure heart and not with anger?

Our selfishness has robbed us of being able to walk humbly with our God. We'd rather agonise over the rights and wrongs of dropping £1 in the hand of a homeless person than simply doing it as an act of pure heart seeking to help others.

The downside of evangelicalism is that we've pursued an orthodoxy that protects the gospel from corruption, but in so doing we've limited its expression through the simplicity of a life lived in relationship with the God who loves us and misses us.