The Purpose of Prayer

“Every time we pray our horizon is altered, our attitude to things is altered, not sometimes but every time, and the amazing thing is that we don’t pray more” (Oswald Chambers, in The Place of Help).

Oswald Chambers also said something else that I’ve thought a lot about over the years. He said that prayer doesn’t so much change the things around me as it changes me and I change things. I think maybe I’d say that when I pray for God to change my circumstances, what I really want is a shortcut out of the difficult season. God wants me to endure the season so that I am changed by it.

It’s like the old story of the cocoon and the butterfly. If you “help” the caterpillar out of the cocoon rather than watch it struggle, you deprive it of the strength it needs to fly. When we pray for God to take us or those we love over an obstacle rather than through it, we are robbing ourselves of sweetness of learning to know God deeper through the struggle and coming out of it more like Jesus.

I don’t think my problem is not praying enough as much as it is praying the wrong way. I still pray to God like I used to write to Santa Claus back in the day. I have my list of what I want, and when the list is over, I’m done. But prayer really is so much more than getting from God as it is getting to know God. And getting to know myself in the process.

“Prayer is not getting things from God. That is a most initial stage; prayer is getting into perfect communion with God: I tell Him what I know He knows in order that I may get to know it as He does”(Oswald Chambers, Prayer: A Holy Occupation).

Turning the Wine Back into Water

“Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses (C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory).

I’m guilty all the time of looking at people like they’re ordinary. I think that’s the default setting for the human race. We rarely if ever see anyone and see the image of God in him or her. We just don’t take the time to see beyond the surface labels of pretty, plain, fat, skinny, tall, short, etc.

I wonder what would happen if we could see people the way Jesus saw people. He didn’t see a stereotype or a caricature. Every time, He saw a unique individual with a story like no one else’s. He created each person with a one-of-a-kind purpose and plan that no one and nothing else can do.

He looked at you and me and thought we were worth dying for. Even at our worst moment in those times we wish we could take back or do over, Jesus still chose to go to the cross and lay down His life for us. While we were still sinners, the Bible says, Christ died for us.

I’ve been guilty of prejudging people before I’ve even had the chance to get to know them. Sometimes, I see the way they interact with others or maybe the expression on their faces. I’m sure I’m not the only one, but I’m also sure glad that Jesus didn’t judge me like that. He saw the absolute worst version of me and still loved me.

I wonder what would happen if we loved people like that. Maybe we wouldn’t have to hunt high and low for gospel conversations and opportunities to share our faith. Maybe people would seek us out and want to know more about this Jesus they see in us, even if they can’t put a name to what they see.

In the Furnace

“One day we took the children to see a goldsmith refine gold after the ancient manner of the East. He was sitting beside his little charcoal fire. (‘He shall sit as a refiner’; the gold- or silversmith never leaves his crucible once it is on the fire.) In the red glow lay a common curved roof tile; another tile covered it like a lid. This was the crucible. In it was the medicine made of salt, tamarind fruit and burnt brick dust, and imbedded in it was the gold. The medicine does its appointed work on the gold, ‘then the fire eats it,’ and the goldsmith lifts the gold out with a pair of tongs, lets it cool, rubs it between his fingers, and if not satisfied puts it back again in fresh medicine. This time he blows the fire hotter than it was before, and each time he puts the gold into the crucible, the heat of the fire is increased; ‘it could not bear it so hot at first, but it can bear it now; what would have destroyed it then helps it now.’ ‘How do you know when the gold is purified?’ we asked him, and he answered, ‘When I can see my face in it [the liquid gold in the crucible] then it is pure’ (Amy Carmichael, Gold Cord).

Some of you are in the furnace right now. It might be the furnace of affliction, suffering, and pain. It might be the furnace of rejection and loneliness. Or it might be the furnace of unfulfilled hopes and dreams. Whatever it is, you can probably think of a million places you’d rather be than in that furnace.

But remember in the furnace is where you’re purified and sanctified. As much as I want it to be true, holiness doesn’t come from happiness. All those glorious spiritual mountaintop experiences aren’t what make you more like Jesus. It’s trudging through the valley where you learn and grow and become who God made you to be.

In one of my favorite books, Hinds’ Feet on High Places, the main character Much Afraid is sent out on a quest by the Shepherd and given two companions to help her on her way. Their names are Pain and Suffering. At first, she recoils and almost rejects them, but after some thought and reflections on the goodness of her Shepherd, she accepts their guidance. In the end, they are as much transformed as she is.

God takes what the world means to destroy us to strengthen us. He takes what was meant to set us back to move us forward. He takes what the enemy meant for evil, and He turns it for good (as the worship song goes). He’s working all things together for your and my good (even the crappy sucky stuff we’d rather move past and not have to deal with).

The end goal is for Jesus to see His likeness in us. For God to see His reflection in us and for the world to see God’s reflection in us as well. Then we know that we are truly being purified.

Keith’s Legacy

It’s hard to believe that Keith Green went home to be with the Lord 43 years ago today. What amazes and saddens me even more was that he was only 28 years old at the time. He was able to accomplish so much and leave behind a legacy of music and ministry in such a short amount of time.

I think Keith would be grieved at the current state of the American Church. He’d see that so many people and churches that profess to follow Jesus now teach a kind of universalist message that the Apostle Paul would call another gospel. So many have surrendered their core beliefs for the illusion of fitting in and conforming to the culture. Sadly, even entire denominations have gone away from true faith.

I don’t think for one moment that Keith Green was perfect. He himself would admit as much. However, he did more to call people to repentance and faith in Jesus than just about anyone else. He begged and pleased for people to get right with the Lord. He also begged and pleaded for lukewarm churches to recover their first love and not be asleep in the light when so many outside their stained glass windows are perishing without Christ and without hope.

But I believe as always that there is a remnant that is faithful. As in the early Church and all throughout history, there has been a small core of true believers who have kept the gospel message alive even when it was unpopular or even deadly to do so. People all around the world are holding on to the message of Christ in the face of persecution and martyrdom. I think Keith would be so proud of them.

I love that I have all of his albums but one. I can put them on my turntable and drop the needle and instantly Keith, yet though he were dead, still speaks. His message and the message of all who have come after remains just as true and timely now as it was back in 1982 and down through all the centuries before that.

May we hold true to the Apostles Creed and the Gospel, and may all who come behind us find us to have been faithful.

Live Gladly

“The greatest honor we can give Almighty God is to live gladly because of the knowledge of his love”(Julian of Norwich).

I think one of the biggest turnoffs to faith is people who profess Christ but spend most of their days with sour faces and unpleasant dispositions. If you truly have been made alive by the grace of God, shouldn’t you be filled with joy?

I get that people have bad days, but even on the bad days there is good. Even the worst days have a little bit of good in them. I don’t think people should fake being happy when their lives are falling apart, but I think that people who know the peace of Jesus should live like it and live like it matters because it does.

I knew a man once who was a former pastor and a greeter at a church event I attended weekly. I found out that he was dying from cancer, but every time I asked him how he was doing, he would say he was fine. He never complained or whined. He showed up as long as he was able and served with a smile because he knew that cancer would not have the last word.

Looking back, I feel a bit ashamed because I know I probably complained about my life to a man who was in a battle way worse than anything I’ve ever faced. Still, he was gracious to me. He showed me Jesus in the midst of his own pain and suffering.

My prayer is that I can be like that. I hope I can exude joy so that people around me who don’t know Jesus will want to know where that joy comes from. That’s actually my prayer for all of us. May we be living billboards of grace whose lives preach just as good of a sermon as any words we could ever use. May our words and deeds (not one or the other but both) tell of a good God and a gracious Savior who can save anybody at any time.

Courage, Dear Heart

It’s a scene from my favorite Narnia book, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C. S. Lewis. In this particular moment, Lucy on board the Dawn Treader as it sails into a sea of darkness so think that you can’t even see your hand in front of your face. It’s the place where nightmares become real. Lucy is afraid.

She sees an albatross flying overhead. She whispers a prayer to Aslan (a type of Christ in Narnia) to help them get through. Suddenly, the albatross flies near and whispers in the voice of Aslan, “Courage, dear heart.”

We all need to hear those words sometimes. We’re not asking God to take away the fear or the scary situation, but for God to give us courage in the midst of it. In the book, Lewis writes that Lucy’s immediate circumstances did not change but that she did begin to feel a bit better.

In the same way, God doesn’t automatically remove the hard things from our lives our immediately still the storms in our lives. He does remind us of His promise to be with us through the waves and the flames and any kind of adversity.

When we get to the other side, it’s generally with a stronger faith and a story to tell. God comforts us in the midst of adversities so that we can turn around and comfort others in the same kinds of trials and tribulations with the same comfort that we ourselves received from God. It becomes a way of letting others know about the goodness of God that they can experience firsthand if they will only put their trust in Jesus as Lord and Savior.

That’s the phrase some of you need right now in the middle of whatever your facing: “Courage, dear heart. God is near.”

Don’t Miss This Chapter

Personally, I’d rather skip to the good part. That’s the danger of the DVR age where you can record stuff off of the television and skip all the commercials and boring parts. We think that somehow God owes it to us to remove us from the boring or painful parts of life and take us directly to the good stuff.

But the boring and painful parts are where we learn and grow and become the people who are ready for the good stuff. I’ve heard and I truly believe that if God gave us everything we wanted right now (even if it was all good and godly things), it would destroy us.

Part of God’s timing is getting the thing we’re about to receive ready. Part is getting us ready to receive it. Both are necessary. Also, we learn to appreciate the good more when we’re in a season of bad. Or just in a season of not as good.

Sometimes, God uses this life to remind us not to settle down here. We need to be reminded that this is not our forever home. The world as it is is a beautiful but broken place, and we are wonderfully made but also broken people living in it. Until both are fixed, it’s not fit for eternity.

So God uses the parts I’d rather skip to teach me. He uses the parts that at the time make no sense to prune me and mold me and shape me into someone who looks and sounds and acts a whole lot like Jesus. He takes those seemingly never-ending boring parts to cultivate in us a spirit of patience and longsuffering and joy and peace that we would not otherwise learn if life were all fun and games and good parts.

Our part isn’t to figure out what God is doing or to try to manipulate Him into skipping the parts we don’t like. His part is to make us like Jesus and into people who are ready to receive what He’s prepared for us from the foundation of the world. Our part is to trust and obey.

Measuring the Size of the Mountain

I like that. Some problems might seem as big and immovable as mountains, but God still moves mountains. I heard someone say once that prayer isn’t so much about reminding God how big your problems are but reminding your problems how big your God is. Ain’t that the truth?

It’s easy to get caught up in the logistics of what looks like an impossible situation. You and I can easily be like Peter and get distracted by the waves and take our eyes off of Jesus. Then we’re sunk.

But thankfully, Jesus can still save. Jesus can take us out of our problems and obstacles, but more often than not, He takes us through them rather than around or over them. Our faith grows as we see God overcome what we thought was hopeless.

Jesus said that if we had faith, we could say to the mountain to move, and it would move. He didn’t say what the size of the faith had to be. I think it’s because it’s not the amount of the faith you have that makes miracles and moves mountains but the source of your faith. God is the one doing the moving.

I still believe that’s true for followers today as it was for followers back then. We may not see the same kind of struggles and trials that those disciples did back in the first century, but we have enough of our own. And we find if we remain faithful long enough that God can still work on behalf of those whose hearts are steadfast toward Him.

This is not me telling you to squeeze your eyes and summon up more faith. Even a tiny mustard seed amount of faith will do if it’s in the right place. I still remember what a friend from college used to say: it’s not big faith in God but faith in a big God. Remember that as you can stand still and watch those mountains move.

No Matter What

“Our prayers for guidance (or for anything else) really begin here: I trust him. This requires abandonment. We are no longer saying, ‘If I trust him, he’ll give me such and such,’ but ‘I trust him. Let him give me or withhold from me what he chooses” (Elisabeth Elliot, God’s Guidance: A Slow & Certain Light).

It’s easy to fall into the trap of trying to bargain with God. Something along the lines of “I’ll trust you if you will give me a) a job, b) a spouse, or c) lots of money.”

It feels more like a transaction than faith. If God does X, then I’ll do Y. The trouble is that I’m in no position to bargain with God. He’s the Eternal Lord and King of the Universe who has every right to destroy me because of my sin, and I’m the one who’s only alive at this moment because of His grace.

The truth is that if all God ever did was to save me from an eternity in hell and leave me alone, that would be way more than I deserve. That alone would merit my praise from now until 10,000 X 10,000 years have passed.

But that’s not all God did. He has sustained me and blessed me and been with me through every kind of joy and sorrow, triumph and trial. All He asks in return is my allegiance. My loyalty. My surrender. Me.

It’s not wrong to ask God for things, but the more I spend time with God and in His word and the more I grow in Christlikeness, the things I ask for change and my desire to have them changes.

God doesn’t owe me anything. Even the next breath is a gift. I owe God everything, more than I could possibly ever pay in a million lifetimes. Yet all God asks for is me. I think that’s a good enough reason to trust Him no matter what.

Life Is a Fairy Tale

I suppose whether you agree with this or not depends on your definition of what makes a fairy tale. Is it void of any true hardship or suffering? Then that’s not a true fairy tale. Does it need fantastical creatures? That’s debatable, but I think not.

What a fairy tale needs is a happy ending. You know going in that the main character is going to live happily ever after.

If you look at life strictly from this side of heaven, then it’s not a fairy tale. There’s so much suffering and evil that goes unresolved and unpunished. There are so many wrongs that never get put right.

But if you look through the lens of the resurrection, then you see the fairy tale. In fact, you could see the whole Bible story as a sort of true fairy tale where the King comes to rescue His beloved from imminent danger.

It all depends on perspective. If you see your life through the eyes of faith, you know that the happy ending is coming, even if you might not see it this side of eternity. But it is coming.

“It is a world of magic and mystery, of deep darkness and flickering starlight. It is a world where terrible things happen and wonderful things too. It is a world where goodness is pitted against evil, love against hate, order against chaos, in a great struggle where often it is hard to be sure who belongs to which side because appearances are endlessly deceptive. Yet for all its confusion and wildness, it is a world where the battle goes ultimately to the good, who live happily ever after, and where in the long run everybody, good and evil alike, becomes known by his true name….That is the fairy tale of the Gospel with, of course, one crucial difference from all other fairy tales, which is that the claim made for it is that it is true, that it not only happened once upon a time but has kept on happening ever since and is happening still”(Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairy Tale).