Last weekend, you may have seen this item in the New York Times: there are doubts being raised about who really wrote the Serenity Prayer.

Most of us know it by heart:

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference.

It has appeared around the world, on everything from coffee mugs to calendars – and it is perhaps best known to those in the recovery movement. That brief prayer has helped countless men and women to get through another long night without taking a drink.

And for the last 60 years or so, it has been attributed to the great Protestant theologian and preacher Reinhold Neibuhr.

But now a researcher says he’s found other versions of that prayer that date to the early part of the last century, long before Neibuhr.

After that story appeared, the writer Amy Welborn reminded readers about some famous Catholic sayings, including two that are associated with Francis of Assisi: the Prayer of St. Francis, and his well-known quote, “Preach the gospel always, use words if necessary.” Scholars haven’t been able to find any evidence that St. Francis wrote or said either of them.

It would be tempting to think of all that as an exercise in myth-busting — some examples of theological urban legends proven to be false.

And cynics could see it that way.

But I think that misses a vital and valuable truth.

It overlooks something fundamental – and something that is brought out again in this weekend’s scriptures.

These prayers and sayings that have uplifted and inspired so many through the generations all have their roots elsewhere.

The inspiration, and the truth, come from another source. The source of all possibility, and all prayer.

And it’s right there, in the first word of the Serenity Prayer.

God.

That is where it all begins. He is the ultimate author.

He is also the one we turn to in need, or yearning, or hope.

And even when we can’t find the words to express what is in our hearts, He is eager to help us.

And we do need help.

Paul wrote to the Romans that “we do not know how to pray as we ought,” and so “the spirit comes to the aid of our weakness.” He intercedes with “inexpressible groanings” and searches our hearts.

The Author of Life is always at work, His lamp burning, His pen scribbling.

To look at it another way, consider Matthew’s gospel for today.

Jesus speaks of a man who sows good seed in his field. That, he explains, is the Kingdom of God.

And that, in fact, is life.

God is constantly sowing seed – planting His word. And you never know where or when or how it might begin to grow.

Or who may bring it to fruition.

Last week, the world lost another talented journalist, Tony Snow. Most people knew him just from his briefings at the White House, or his appearances on television. Many didn’t realize he was also a gifted, often eloquent writer.

In the spring of 2007, after his cancer had come back, he was asked to give the commencement address at Catholic University. I think he knew that he was living on borrowed time – and that his time may well have begun to run out.

He spoke that day, at length, about love.

This is some of what he had to say:

“To love,” he said, “is to place others before you and to make their needs your priority. Do it. When you put somebody else at the center of the frame, your entire world changes…When you are drawn into the lives of others, you enter their problems, their hopes, their dreams.” And he continued: “Some day in the dim and distant future, when you’re looking back at it, you’re not going to think about your car or your career or your gold watch. You’ll think about a chewed up teddy bear you had as a baby or maybe your child’s smile on a Christmas morning. The only things that are sure to endure are the artifacts of love. So go out and build as many as you can.”