Concerning Life as It Is Supposed to Be

Month: July 2016

Prayer and the Practice of a Flawed Church

[This is a post in our ongoing series looking at the themes raised by David Crump in his book Knocking on Heaven’s Door: A New Testament Theology of Petitionary Prayer. We began this series here.]

If you prayed recently for a non-Christian to be saved, you did something that, as far as we can tell, no one in the church recorded in Acts ever did. That does not make what you did wrong, but it does make it curious.

As the New Testament unfolds, we begin to see the ways in which the newly Spirit-filled church prayed. It is surprising that no where in all of the book of Acts, no where in all of the account of the phenomenal expansion of Christianity, no where (but possibly once, Acts 26:29, which in my mind has more of the feel of a rhetorical device) in the history of the works of the Spirit among this newly anointed people do we see anyone or any group praying for unbelievers to come to faith in Jesus. Rather, time and again they pray for believers to be bold.

Is that something worth noting? I think so. Crump makes an important case suggesting that we ought never to idolize the past, even if that past is divinely recorded. And yet we can learn much from these early saints, particularly what God has chosen to reveal about them.

As I think about this ‘lack’ among the Christians in Acts, I realize that it is easy to pray for unbelievers. When I do that I’m asking God to do something with them, while I sit safely in my study or in my small group or in my pew. To pray rather that God would give me and my Christian friends boldness requires a different frame of mind. It requires that I actually want to be bold and that I believe in something worth being bold about. It requires that God act on ME before he acts on others, and I may not be sure that I want that. But that hesitation did not hinder the Christians in Acts. They prayed for boldness, for God to act on THEM.

Something else these early Christians did not pray for was protection. Their’s was a volatile and hostile setting, but they prayed that they might be engaged in God’s kingdom work, not that God would put up hedges and protect them from the fray. As taught by the Lord’s Prayer, they cared more for God’s glory and kingdom than their own personal peace. Our prayers are more likely to be prayers seeking comfort than seeking his kingdom. We are more likely to pray for proper political leaders than to pray for boldness. And this contrast should unsettle us.

The church in Acts was a flawed bunch, as every manifestation of the church in history has been. And yet, it has left us an exemplary model of prayer. These Christians prayed together (a point we too often overlook!), and they prayed for the kingdom (rather than for comfort). In so doing they opened themselves up to the work the Spirit would do, and the world has never been the same.

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Magic, Mystery, and Prayer in Jesus’ Name

[This is a post in our ongoing series looking at the themes raised by David Crump in his book Knocking on Heaven’s Door: A New Testament Theology of Petitionary Prayer. We began this series here.]

The phrase ‘in Jesus’ name’ is experienced by many of us as the (often long awaited) indicator that prayer has finally ended. Since it is so much more than that its true power and significance needs to be rescued. The Gospel of John helps us in that rescue.

Crump helpfully observes that with the way we use the language of prayer, or the way we might insist on setting or posture or other matters of ‘propriety’ we turn prayer into something that looks more like a magical incantation. No longer are we speaking honestly with our heavenly father and king. Rather we are stringing together the right phrases in the right way in an effort to move the spirits to do our bidding. There is nothing but hopelessness down that path.

This is what we do when we insist that for a prayer to ‘work’ we must end it with ‘in Jesus’ name’. In reality, the point is not the words we use but the spirit we bring.

All that Jesus did, he did in the name of his Father. That is, he lived and acted and spoke in complete submission to the Father. To pray ‘in Jesus’ name’ is to pray like Jesus lived, as completely sold out to and longing for his kingdom. The words we use do not matter.

As well, to pray in his name is to invoke his authority. The fact that we have the right in the first place to be standing in the presence of the Father is owed solely to Jesus’ past and present and ongoing intercession on our behalf. We come marked as his and so can expect that our prayers will be heard as his. These are both huge encouragements toward prayer, but do not require the use of particular words.

To pray ‘in Jesus’ name’ also implies that we come with Jesus’ sense of submission to the Father.
A difficulty in the gospel and letters of John is how he repeatedly speaks of praying ‘according to God’s will’. Some conclude that God’s will is fixed and that prayer is not something that shapes the future but is only a part of that will which God has fixed. Our prayer is as ordained as the results. For most of us, Crump included, this does not seem satisfying or biblically right. He hazards some suggestions as to how prayer and the Father’s will reconcile, but they are only satisfying when the mystery is allowed to stand. Scripture does not answer all the complications that life in the presence of an infinite, wise and eternal God will raise. Scripture tells me to pray, to ask for things, and to do so in submission to him and in the authority of his son. I cannot peer into the mystery of what effect such prayers have, but I have to believe that the God who presents them as genuine and effective means us to understand them that way. There is no ‘magic’ in prayer but there is mystery. We speak to a Father who effects our desires as he sees fit, and we trust him to do so. Using the phrase ‘in Jesus’ name’ helps us to remember that.

There was a day not too long ago when I was in great distress and in a fairly public place. I found refuge on a low wall separated from the sidewalk by some bushes and trees. But I was still clearly visible, and clearly crying. A woman with a Bible saw me and kindly asked about my welfare. We spoke briefly and she asked if she could pray for me. It was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. Hers was not a shy prayer; it was not a quiet prayer; it was not a timid prayer. She sensed every dimension of my need and lifted each up to God in turn, separating each with the urgent and vigorously spoken refrain, “In JESUS name!”

She was appealing to the Father on my behalf in the authority of the Son. I will never forget the power of that refrain, or the comfort it brought.

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“These Are a Few of My Favorite Prayers”

[This is a post in our ongoing series looking at the themes raised by David Crump in his book Knocking on Heaven’s Door: A New Testament Theology of Petitionary Prayer. We began this series here.]

It’s time to take a break from our journey through David Crump’s book on prayer. His reflections on the Lord’s Prayer leads me to think about the prayers in the Bible that I consider my favorites. Among them, I confess, is this very prayer.

The Lord’s Prayer has been and will always be one of my favorite prayers. I suppose it is meant to be so. Regardless, I have found that it shapes my thinking in more ways than I can imagine. Years ago, I sat down and tried to write in just a few short phrases what I felt my purpose was as a person and as a pastor. I labored over that for some time and emerged with what I thought was an accurate reflection of my heart, when my heart was at its best. As I looked at that statement, I saw that it reflected unmistakably the contours of the prayer Jesus taught us and which I had been taught to recite since childhood.

But there are other biblical prayers which have become favorites over the years. One that a fellow pastor recently shared with me comes from the life of Moses. Moses was at the time so overwhelmed with the responsibilities of caring for God’s people that, at his whits end, he burst out with this honest little request (here shared using Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase):

“I can’t do this by myself—it’s too much, all these people. If this is how you intend to treat me, do me a favor and kill me. I’ve seen enough; I’ve had enough. Let me out of here.” (Numbers 11:14, 15 / The Message)

Most pastors I know resonate with that feeling now and then!

Jehoshophat was a king in Israel who, when informed of an approaching army of enemies, very honestly spoke the words that often reflect my own perspective on the unmanageable:

“O our God…we are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.” (2 Chronicles 20:12)

The great horde for me may be a parenting conundrum or some other unsolvable puzzle. I rarely know what to do. I can only look to God in desperation.

And then, not quite a prayer, but a blessing which can be easily converted to prayerful use is this:

“The LORD bless you and keep you;
the LORD make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you;
the LORD lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.” (Numbers 6:24-26)

I have often had occasions when I’ve not known anything else to pray for someone who is hurting and broken. In such occasions it has seemed right to pray this for them, to wish every component of God’s favor upon them, to ask that the “Lord, bless them and keep them….”

These, I say, are a few of my favorite prayers. What are yours?

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Prayer for Tractors and Other Things

[This is a post in our ongoing series looking at the themes raised by David Crump in his book Knocking on Heaven’s Door: A New Testament Theology of Petitionary Prayer. We began this series here.]

One of the first petitionary prayers I recall praying was for a tractor. I don’t know why I wanted a tractor and I don’t know what I would have done with one had I gotten up the morning after the prayer and had found a brand new red Massey-Ferguson tractor in my front yard. I’m supposing that someone in my life had communicated the powerful possibilities of prayer that in asking we receive and with a child’s faith, I acted. To my dismay, I did not get, nor have I yet gotten, my tractor.

Since then, the things for which I ask are more sophisticated, though I’m not sure that is always a good thing. What I do want is that my prayers be shaped by the things that Jesus in the Lord’s Prayer says that my heart should long for in prayer.

If we are praying according to this guide, we will be praying for the regular provision of our needs (“…our daily bread…”). We will pray for reconciled relationships and peace (“…forgive us our debts…”). And we will pray that we will be sustained through every test of our discipleship that comes our way, even as we ask that we might be spared them (“…lead us not into temptation…”).

But what we long for in the end cannot help but be tempered by the weight of the first petitions of this prayer. It is right to petition God for all that we desire. If that is a tractor, then ask for a tractor. If that is for a husband, then pray for a husband. And if it is for a convenient parking place, then pray for that. And yet the more our hearts are trained to seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, the essential direction of the first three petitions, the more content we will be to take what he gives on a daily basis, whether great or small. We will be more happy to remain tractor-less if God is glorified in it.

Crump looks at this prayer as something of a grid by which our own heart priorities are revealed. And I must confess that my heart’s desire to embrace Jesus’ passion for the kingdom and my actual practice of that are at times some distance apart. Prayer along the lines of the Lord’s Prayer cannot help but bring them nearer.

Click to go to the next post in this series.

Leaping to Conclusions

Edwin H. Friedman says a number of good and helpful things in his book on leadership A Failure of Nerve: Leadership in the Age of the Quick Fix. Too easily, he says, we allow our emotional engagement in a system to lead to a sort of gridlock that kills imagination and shuts leaders off from exciting possibilities. He’s right. But like many good books on leadership Friedman overstates his case, bases it upon what appear to be wild generalizations, and takes too long to say it. I’m clearly not a fan of books on leadership (except this one!).

As an example of innovation freed from such constraints, Friedman points to the courage and innovation of Christopher Columbus to whom he credits the restoration of European greatness. In so doing, Friedman paints a picture of European malaise drawn from a 1493 publication called the “Nuremberg Chronicle”. We ought always to be suspicious of points made by reference to single ancient texts. And preachers, no less than leadership gurus, are guilty of this.

Imagine in the wake of a nuclear holocaust or zombie apocalypse, the only historical record of our age several hundred years into the future are several fragmentary speeches of Donald Trump.
We would not want generalizations made about life now based upon such sketchy evidence. Rodney Stark, a Baylor sociologist, speaking of the late Roman Empire as an “experienced pollster” has reminded us that we ought not to characterize

“…the ‘feelings and thoughts of fifty-million people’ on the basis of a few fragmentary literay quotations.” (The Rise of Christianity, page 200)

This reminds me of the caution that writer Barbara Tuchman developed in her own presentation of medieval history A Distant Mirror. The negative will always be over-reported.

“A…hazard, built into the very nature of recorded history, is overload of the negative: the disproportionate survival of the bad side—of evil, misery, contention, and harm. In history this is exactly the same as in the daily newspaper. The moral does not make news. History is made by the documents that survive, and these lean heavily on crisis and calamity, crime and misbehavior, because such things are the subject matter of the documentary process—of lawsuits, treaties, moralists’ denunciations, literary satire, Papal Bulls. No Pope ever issued a Bull to approve of something….
“Disaster is rarely as pervasive as it seems from recorded accounts. The fact of being on the record makes it appear continuous and ubiquitous whereas it is more likely to have been sporadic both in time and place.” (pages xviii-xvix)

Writing this in 1978 Tuchman had never heard of the internet, or imagined how it could magnify this tendency.

I say all this to urge caution in the generalizations that we accept as true. I say it as well as a caution that we not be those, especially we who are preachers, who further mistaken conclusions by making them or repeating them.

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