I had the good fortune to grow up in a wonderfully healthy and balanced home. Okay, so that mystical myth - "fortune" - had nothing to do with it. I lived in that kind of home because of two faithful and loving parents and four siblings I looked up to and was proud to claim as mine. (I still am, too!) A regular part of my life growing up was church. I'm not sure if this was my brother and sisters' experience or not, but I remember being at church every Sunday - unless I was sick or we were out of town. Sunday School, worship services, cookies and punch in the Fellowship Hall… all memories I hold of those years. All part of the "it's what we do" when I was growing up.
As I got older, my church friends and I were able - and somewhat expected - to do more in the life of the congregation. I served as an acolyte and lit the altar candles as part of the ritual of the worship service - affirming the reminder of the light of God's presence joining us as we worship and leaving with us as we left an hour later to go back into our "normal" life. Other than the goofy white robes we had to wear, it was a pretty cool job… I mean, we got to carry a flame in Church!

Later, as I got into High School, I moved up in my responsibilities and became a Junior Deacon. I served communion, I collected the offering, I even went to our denomination's national conference.

I remember hearing someone at a conference a few years ago describe his childhood religious life much like mine. He said, "Yep, I'm a BUICK - Brought Up In Christian Knowledge." That was me! I knew all about God. I knew all about the Church. Not only did my family drive a Buick… I was one!

In the first part of the Bible - the section commonly called the Old Testament - there is a story of a young man named Samuel. His early story has some similarities to mine. It has some similarities to yours too, although you may not know it yet.

Samuel grew up in his day's version of Church - literally. He had been dedicated to God as an infant and taken to the tabernacle at Shiloh. Shiloh was the center of Jewish worship in the years before Jerusalem became Israel's capital city and the place where they kept the Ark of the Covenant - the box that contained the Ten Commandments and other important artifacts from the time of the Exodus. Shiloh is where the people would go to offer sacrifices to God. It is where the High Priest, Eli, lived and did his ministry. As Samuel grew up there at Shiloh, he served Eli, working beside him in the service of God.

That part of Samuel's story reminds me of my own: active and serving in the worshiping community. (I didn't actually live at the church, although sometimes it certainly felt like it.) Moving from one level of expectation and responsibility to another. Hearing the stories of God and his people week after week.

But, Samuel was standing at the Edge and didn't know it. He had been living there for quite a while and didn't know it. The interesting thing to me is, it's the very same Edge I found myself facing when I got to college.

Samuel had spent so much time - his whole life - around the things of God. He had been with the people of God, in the house of God, hearing the stories and truths of God, doing all the "right" and "religious" things. Yet, in 1 Samuel 3:7 we read this shocking revelations…
 
        "Now, Samuel did not yet know the Lord..." 

Wait a minute… how can that be? Look at what is said about Samuel before this disturbing verse:

        "But Samuel was ministering before the Lord under Eli the priest." (1 Samuel 2:11)

        "But Samuel was ministering before the Lord - a boy wearing a linen ephod." (1 Samuel 2:18)

        "And the boy Samuel continued to grow in stature and in favor with the Lord and with people." (1 Samuel 2:26)

        "The boy Samuel ministered before the Lord under Eli." (1 Samuel 3:1) 

Yet, in spite of all of this, Samuel - we are told - did not know the Lord. Now that is an Edge! 

Can you imagine spending all your time, pouring all your life into some work - some good work - only to discover that you were missing the most important, most foundational part of that work and of life itself? Can you imagine it?

Some of us don't need to imagine it. We've seen close friends and family members peering over that Edge, having their breath taken away by the dramatically scary, amazing vista that opened up before them. For others of us, this is the Edge we are standing at even as we read these words. Or, perhaps, it is the Edge God is pulling us toward.

I stood on this Edge when I was in college. I had an amazing opportunity that not too many people have. I attended a small, historic Christian college in Oregon. What made it so amazing was that it was there that I met, lived in the dorm with, and went to classes with other young adults - people my age - who spoke about God and Jesus as something, as someone far beyond the Sunday School lessons of my youth. They spoke of Jesus like someone they knew… and not just knew about. I found myself standing on this most important, most basic Edge that anyone can come to. Looking back, I think I can just make out Samuel's footprints in the dirt next to mine.

It was the Edge of owned faith.

Behind Samuel stood all that he had heard and done and experienced during all those years "ministering before the Lord". In front of him opened up the vastness of the Eternal. Before him was God, calling his name, inviting him to a life beyond anything he had every imagined. In the quiet hours of the night, Samuel woke up (literally and figuratively) to the fact that he was at this Edge. To be fair to Samuel, even Eli the priest - the one who was supposed to know all about this God-stuff - didn’t recognize the Edge at first either.

At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his own place. The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. 
Then the Lord called Samuel, and he said, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down
. 
And the Lord called again, “Samuel!” and Samuel arose and went to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. 
And the Lord called Samuel again the third time. And he arose and went to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the young man. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down, and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place. (1 Samuel 3:3-9 ESV)

So, given this guidance from Eli, and a third-time prompting from God, Samuel prays a Prayer from the Edge. His prayer is so simple, yet so amazingly profound - "Speak, Lord, your servant is listening."

It seems like a nothing little prayer, doesn't it? So brief. So plain. It hardly seems like a prayer, let alone something so life-shaping as a Prayer from the Edge. But the truths and affirmations in these six simple words sho how prepared Samuel's heart really was to be facing this Edge.

We'll look at that prayer next time... but, for now, take a look around. 

Ask yourself a pretty tough question... remember, it is the most foundational question you can ask. No matter what your church or religious or spiritual background is... Do you know God? Not just know about God - but know God. As in a relationship... as a real person?
 
Do you yet know the Lord?

I wonder if you've been thinking about the Edge.

What would the Edge be for you? What has it been for you in the past?

Some of us can only imagine what the Edge would be - we've never even gotten close to it. Others can vividly remember when the Edge was were we lived and moved and had our being. Still others read those words and think, "Remember the Edge? Imagine it? The Edge is where I'm at right now… it's all I see… and my knees are getting weak!"

How would you handle life on the Edge? Life on that raw, scary, sometimes painful, growing Edge?

Living on the Edge strips all the pretense away from us. We can't live there - in any healthy way - and keep up false fronts for long. Not those false fronts that tell us and others we are better or more "with it" or more "in touch with God" than we really are. And - paradoxically - not those false fronts that say we are less than we really are… less gifted, less loved by God, less worthy of God's grace. (In case you've forgotten, no one is worthy of God's grace… that's what makes it grace!) In Romans 12:3-6 Paul says:

For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among younot to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them… (ESV)

A good reminder for all of us to set those false fronts aside even when we're not at the Edge. But, perhaps, especially when we are.

The Edge has a way of striping away the protective clutter we get so adept in immersing ourselves under. It makes us take a realistic and critical look at our resources… and our lack of resources. The Edge makes us look critically at our priorities… and our lack of clarity in them. That's why the Edge can be so scary. It's also why the Edge can be transforming.

For us… for our families… for our neighbors, friends, church and countless people we may never know.

When we find ourselves at the Edge and begin to get the sense that it's not simply a quick pause on our journey to where we planned to go and in how we planned to get there but that we are about to take up residence there well, it moves us to do something we may not have done before.

The Edge will move us to pray. I don't mean those simplistic, cutesy prayers of childhood. (I've always thought the "Now I lay me down to sleep" prayer was a bit creepy to teach to kids… "and if I should die before I wake…" Pleasant dreams, Kiddo!) I don't mean the stained glass encrusted, "holy" prayers that many of us remember the elders, deacons, and pastors of our childhood praying in words we hardly understood. I mean prayers that are raw. Prayers that come out of the depths of our souls. Prayers that are raw, scary, sometimes painful in themselves. Prayers that are shouted, demanded, whispered, whimpered… that sometimes come through clenched teeth, balled-up fists, and broken hearts. In other words, prayers that are real.

Living on the Edge calls for - alright, forces - a response from us. It always has. There are countless examples history of people - individuals, families, communities, nations - who have found themselves at the Edge. Some have responded in healthy, faithful, and redemptive ways. Others, not so much. Those healthy responses may not always be the ones you first think of, either.

In upcoming posts, we will explore and experience the stories of a number of people from the Bible - both Old and New Testaments - who found themselves at the Edge. What can we learn from their prayers from the Edge? How can their examples - good or bad - guide us as we live our lives today?

One thing that each of the stories we'll look at tell us is that prayers from the Edge are not just words spoken. They are active. They take effort. They require us to be involved with God and involved in this life on that Edge. It's not enough to simply say the words - there are times when words can just be more self-protective clutter that keeps us from living. However, the effort, the action that real Prayers from the Edge lead us to may not be what we expect.

What would you pray at the Edge? What have you prayed there? How did those prayers move you?