THUMPA-THUMPA! THUMPA-THUMPA!

That was the sound of my heart beating in my throat before last night’s City Council meeting where I was scheduled to give my “non-sectarian invocation” before the city fathers and all those gathered to do government business in the City of Torrance. My dilemma? Getting the message out to all those assembled that I was there to pray to the One True God, through His Son Jesus Christ.

One problem: It was illegal to name the name of Jesus. Apparently.

In this post-Christian age government institutions are deathly afraid of being sued, therefore, timidity is the rule of thumb when it comes to individuals expressing their religious faith when official business is being conducted. Through a ridiculous interpretation of the Law, city governments have taken the inane position that it is unlawful to pray in a sectarian fashion.

Last year, I refused to obey this gross misinterpretation of the ruling, choosing rather, to obey God and not man—and suffered the consequences: I was put at the bottom of the praying pastor list and wasn’t asked back for nearly a year and a half. (Read “The Illegal Name of Jesus”)

Now here I was again with the same dilemma, only this time the message was spelled out even more clearly, the number two item on the Council Meeting Agenda:

#1 CALL MEETING TO ORDER, ROLL CALL

#2 FLAG SALUTE

And there it was, plain as day:

NON SECTARIAN INVOCATION:
Pastor Steve Sanchez, Hope Chapel
The courts have concluded that sectarian prayer as part of
City Council meetings is not permitted under the Constitution.

God wasn’t first on the agenda, but He was a darn close second.

As part of my Pastorly duties I had the great responsibility of beseeching God in prayer to give wisdom, protection, and guidance to this august body.  But I had to appeal to a nondescript, nameless, non-judgmental god, the kind of god that would make everyone happy, especially the city’s lawyers. Last year I was reminded not to pray in Jesus’ name by the City Clerk, and this year by an assistant. I got the hint. I was no prayer scofflaw. I would obey, no funny business.

Well, maybe a little….

THUMP-THUMPA! THUMPA-THUMPA!

I walked into Council Chambers and down the aisle in my too-tight suit, grabbing a seat in the front so I could make a quick get-away if needed. I was there on the Lord’s business. I was going to pray, and by golly, I was going to be a witness for Jesus, one way or another. In a couple of minutes I would step to the podium and face the Mayor, the City Council, and… and… the close circuit televisions! Oh no! There on the screen for all to see—on two screens, no less,—were these words:

NON SECTARIAN INVOCATION:
Pastor Steve Sanchez, Hope Chapel
The courts have concluded that sectarian prayer as part of
City Council meetings is not permitted under the Constitution.

It was a good thing I wasn’t going to pray in a sectarian way. I was going to abide by the LAW, no matter how stupid and ridiculous and lame it was. I was reminded of those ancient words from a prophet of old, Tom Petty: I fought the Law and the Law won.

The Mayor spoke into his mic, “And now, Pastor Steve Sanchez will give the invocation.”

THUMPA-THUMPA! THUMPA-THUMPA!

I got out of my seat, stepped up to the podium and faced the men and women on the dais. “I want to thank you for the honor of being able to give the invocation at this Council meeting. I understand that it is aganst the Law to pray in the name of Jesus, but I want to let you know that I will be praying to the Lord Jesus Christ, the One Who died for my sins; I just won’t be mentioning Him by name. Please feel free to join in with me or not.”

I glanced up to notice that the Mayor, a staunch Catholic, smiled knowingly, eyes twinkling, as did a man on his left and to his right. I then prayed a simple prayer of blessing concluding with, “In the name that is above all names, the King of Kings and Lord of lords, the One Who rose from the dead, amen.”

There were no screams from the back row. No sirens. No dog barked far off in the distance. I heard absolutely nothing. The room swirled in underwater tableau, faces attentive to the business at hand. Squaring my shoulders, I walked out of the room. A policeman, not privy to the recent goings-on, smiled warmly.

THUMPA-THUMPA! THUMPA-THUMPA!

I sang softly to myself as I walked back to my car:

Praise the name of Je-sus.
Praise the name of Je-sus.
You’re my rock; you’re my fortress;
you’re my deliverer; in you will I trust.
Praise the name of Je-e-e-sus! 

And I reflected on the fact that salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under Heaven given to men by which we must be saved.

Read what happened when I actually prayed in Jesus’ name a year prior.