Prayer As Engagement, Not Escape

I’ve always imagined when I’m praying that my spirit is transferred up to the throne room of God in that moment. That while my body is kneeling beside my bed or driving in my car, my spirit is raptured into the holy of holies, into the presence of God…who is there, but not necessarily here. 

For several years now, however, I’ve been increasingly convinced that the biblical idea of “Kingdom of Heaven” is a very this worldly reality. That the incarnation, death, and resurrection of Jesus in this world means that the Kingdom of Heaven is not elsewhere, but present and active here. 

It’s funny how paradigm shifts tend to take a while to apply.

The implications of the hereness of the Kingdom of Heaven immediately convinced me that a place called Heaven is not the ultimate goal of the Christian life. But up until recently my imagination in prayer still took me up to a remote, distant, heavenly throne room.

Reading this morning in the Sermon on the Mount (Jesus’ most explicit delineation of the Kingdom of Heaven!), I saw the error of my praying ways. Jesus prays for God’s will to be done on earth as it is in heaven.

The implication here is that prayer, like church gatherings, aren’t mini Christian vacations into heaven. They are not temporary forays into the next life or another world. Prayer, like church gatherings, are a full engagement with this world. Prayer takes place within and for this world. It does not long for a time to escape, it is an expression of a soul already fully engage in God’s redemptive purposes for this world. I love how Eugene Peterson says it, “Prayer is not an escape from what is going on around us. It is gutsy participation in every earthly detail.”

If heaven is God’s throne, then earth is his footstool. And I can pray at His footstool because that’s where God’s feet touch our ground.

HUCKABEE AND THE BIG HOLE IN THE AMERICAN SOUL

This is not my post. This is written by Dr. Jerry Walls on his Facebook wall

In the aftermath of the tragic mass murder in Connecticut, Mike Huckabee made some comments that incited considerable controversy and criticism. I cited part of what he said in a favorable vein, and it generated a lively debate on my Facebook page, with many taking a negative view of his comments.

I would like to clarify what I think the issue is, and where I think Huckabee is dead right. Before doing so, it will help to make clear what I am NOT saying, and what he did not say either. First, as he clarified in a later statement, he did not mean to say the shooting happened because prayer was removed from school, as if there was some sort of simple cause-effect relationship here. Second, he did not mean to say we have the power literally to expel God from school, or anywhere else. Indeed, he eloquently described some of the many ways God was present in the tragedy and will continue to be.

But where he was spot on was in his observation that it is odd to say the least, if not profoundly confused, to wonder where God is in moments like this tragedy, when we as a culture have been marginalizing God for the past fifty or more years. The attitude he cites is manifest in everything from lawsuits over Christmas trees to vociferous opposition to the very suggestion that biology classes should at least examine the possibility that our world was created by an intelligent agent. God is never discussed in history class, or psychology or biology. In public schools, things must proceed as if He either does not exist, or is utterly irrelevant to making sense of everything from the laws of nature to human history.

So here is a good way think about the issue. What must God be like for a tragic event like the one in Connecticut to generate even a question about his whereabouts when it happened? The answer is He must be assumed to be something like traditional theists believe He is. If he is not, if he is either impotent, or senile, or morally indifferent, there would be no mystery in the occurrence of evil. It is precisely the lofty claims about the nature of God that generate the problem of evil. If there is no such God, evil is not a problem in THAT sense, namely, that certain types of evil seem to be sharply inconsistent with the existence of such a being. And if there is no such God, there is little reason to believe this tragedy will be rectified and redeemed. The lives that were lost will not continue beyond the grave, and there will be no judgment day to bring ultimate justice.

Or think about the issue this way. Invariably when these sorts of tragedies occur, newscasters, celebrities, and everyone else on TV remarks that “our thoughts and prayers go out to these hurting people.” So here is a similar question: what must God be like for prayer to make sense? Again, if prayer is a rational activity, God must be something like the God of traditional theism. If there is no such God, “prayer” is little more than collective empathy.

So what I am suggesting is we need to decide whether we want to continue to believe evil is a problem in the deep sense, and continue to believe in ultimate justice, and continue to pray in the belief that Someone is really listening and has the love, the power and the wisdom to know how and when to answer.

But here is precisely where the ambivalence/inconsistency/confusion arises that Huckabee put his finger on. Any God whose attributes pose a problem of evil, any God who is worth praying to cannot be trivialized, domesticated, sidelined, ignored ninety-nine percent of the time, and only half-heartedly (usually churches see a spike in attendance for a week or two) acknowledged when tragedy or other trouble shows its face. Any God who is great enough to give us hope that terrible tragedies are not the last word, that such horrors will finally be redeemed and made right, any God who is worthy of serious prayer demands to take the central place in our lives.

While thinking about this, it struck me that perhaps this is the deep reason why the issue of prayer in schools has become such a lightning rod. If there is really a God anything like traditional Christianity says, then prayer must be at the very heart of our lives if we are to be rational beings. Prayer acknowledges not only his existence, but our utter reliance upon him as our only hope if evil is to be defeated and our deepest aspirations for meaning are to be satisfied. Moreover, we cannot hope to truly understand human history or the ultimate nature of the physical world if we do not take Him fully into account. On the other hand, if there is no such God, prayer is deeply illusory and misguided, however emotionally comforting it might be. And “God’s” role in human history is only the role of an idea (an idea that is “all too human” as Nietzsche would have it) that is no longer viable for thoughtful people. Either way, one of these positions is radically and utterly misguided and out of touch with reality. No wonder the issue stirs such passions.

(Of course, there are complicating factors for such prayer in our pluralistic society. But for most of American history, no one thought the Constitution ruled it out, and I suspect if we took God more seriously as a culture, we could find more creative ways to deal with our pluralism than by simply leaving prayer out of the picture. And this is not to suggest that public prayer is any guarantee that we are taking God seriously. What taking God seriously looks like in the public square is not easy to say. So I grant the practical complications here.)

But back to the main point. The deep incoherence in our soul consists in the fact that we want to hold onto the idea that prayer makes sense, and that evil is a problem that we may hope will be solved, but we do not want to take seriously the God that gives substance to these convictions. This hit me again this morning as I was listening to a performance of “The Messiah.” What struck me was how this great piece of music begins with words of comfort and ends with words of triumphant hope. But in between, there are word such as these: “But who may abide the day of His coming, and who shall stand when He appeareth? For He is like a refiner’s fire.”

I have no doubt that God’s mercy endures forever. I have no doubt that God welcomes all sincere prayers, including those elicited by tragedies like the one we have just witnessed. He is always ready and willing to give grace to those who seek it. As the Messiah states the invitation: “Come unto Him, all ye that labour, come unto Him, ye that are heavy laden, and He will give you rest.”

But the God who is truly capable of giving comfort is the God who will reign forever and ever. If we want the comfort, if we want to pray for His Kingdom to come, we must understand who we are dealing with. But if we want a God who can safely be ignored and trivialized except when trouble strikes, there is no reason to think such a “god” is worth praying to or even invoking when we are baffled by shocking evil. But we cannot have it both ways.

Prayer and the Prophetic Impractical

Yesterday we visited Gethsemane Abbey as a Chapel team. JD set no other agenda except reflection and prayer. And though there is never enough time for such a trip which accomplishes nothing of pragmatic value, that’s what makes such a trip all the more important.

It occurred to me that one of the ways Christians might be a prophetic voice in the future of this country is in our willingness to take time off our busy schedules of production and incessant consumption, simply to go pray.

I know it sounds either too idealistic or too pious to be practical.

But what if the prophetic is in the impractical?

What if the prophetic is in the actualization of things usually assumed to be stuck in the realm of ideas?

What if our slavery to the 9-5 is exactly what keeps us bound to the ideas and agendas of the Empire with its ethic of consumption and production? And what if this slavery is exactly that which hinders our ability to see the God who provides, sustains, and cares for even the flowers of the field which do not toil or spin?

Praying

Sometimes when I pray I don’t really expect things to change – I just speak the words because that’s what you’re supposed to do. They are no doubt the proper, theologically correct words, but they are still hollow and meaningless because my mind or heart is not convinced anything is actually going to change because I have prayed.  This, in turn, ruins my prayer life because NOBODY wants to continue to do something they believe (even if they’re unwilling to say it!) is fruitless.

I think part of the problem is that I’m afraid to believe in prayer as a powerful tool – I’m mean, who wants to be like those Name-it-and-Claim-it kooks?

But at least they believe prayer, every prayer, actually does something! At least when they approach God they truly believe that their lives will be different. Their emphasis on the material things in life is the problem, not the fact that they believe that their prayers actually move the heart of God!

So I’ve been wondering what it would look like if I started praying with the understanding, not that I’ll get whatever I want just because I claim it, but that my very prayer, my very interaction with God, my very encounter with the Triune Redeemer, CHANGES THINGS!

Do I really believe that things are different because I prayed? Do I really believe that, even if I don’t see my prayer answered down to a ‘T’ that the world has changed and is different than it would otherwise be precisely because prayer actually does something?

We Modern people have a hard time believing that the world is different because we participate in what seems like a unilateral conversation where WE ARE THE ONLY AND PRIMARY SPEAKERS. But the Bible presents prayer differently – in the Bible, prayer is the work of God in our lives whereby he places in our hearts the desire to pray for the things of His kingdom – prayer is BOTH a human and a Divine act.

Therefore, when we are prompted by the Holy Spirit to pray, then that necessarily means that, even if things don’t come to pass as we expect, the world will still be different because God moved me to prayer and that changes everything!

Prayer changes the future; at least that’s what the Bible teaches. Maybe we Christians could start believing that sometime.

A Labor Day Prayer of Confession

Last night JR, Amanda, and I wrote a Labor Day confession prayer which JR prayed this morning at his church. Here it is…

God, you made the world and everything in it. You are Lord of heaven and earth and do not live in temples built by labor, and you are not served by human labor, as if you needed anything, because you yourself give all humanity life and breath and everything else.

We confess that far too often, we do not remember that you are the source of every good gift, of every breath we take and of every calorie of energy we exert.

And we confess that in our darkest moments, we do not want gifts, handouts. Because to us, handouts are for losers. Handouts are for dropouts. Handouts are for beggars on roadsides. Handouts are not for us.

Because we are a people who labor. Our bodies labor to earn so we can eat, buy, sell and secure. Our minds labor with anxiety over all we must accomplish and all we leave undone. Our souls labor endlessly to win your affections – as though your heart could be won by the sweat of our brow. We labor, we produce, we strive, and all too often we consider ourselves worthy and deserving of that with which you have given us.

We confess that we often allow the labor of our hands to distract us from the work that your Spirit is accomplishing in our world – in your world.

Let us remember that you created us in six days, that at the end of your labors, you rested.

Let us remember that the work of our hands is to sow the seeds of our own destruction, not our salvation.

And let us remember that from those first days, you did not rest again until you laid in the Tomb, having accomplished in your work the redemption that all our labors could not purchase for us.

Let us remember that our salvation was a gift given out of the very depths of your love for us, and that it was given freely, graciously.

Let us remember that we are more than producers, more than the sum of our labors, more than our portfolios and purchasing power. Because at the foot of the cross, we are all beggars in need of the handout you so freely extend to us.

This is a weekend in which we break the surface of the sea of our daily toil to draw a collective breath to break from our many labors. So teach us in this time to rest as you created us to rest. Teach us to pause from our production. And in that rest, in that pause, give us eyes to see where your Spirit is already at work, that we may join into your labors. Because we confess that your work -

- proclaiming good news to the poor

- freedom to the prisoner

- healing the sick

- releasing those who suffer oppression

- and doing the hard work of justice

- these labors are what the Spirit anointed your Son to accomplish, and what we as his body are anointed still to do. Let us fill our brief lives with the work of your kingdom. Let the work of our hands become the work of your body, and your Son.

For in this hour together, we look to Jesus, through whom we know and receive your many good gifts and in whose name we gratefully pray.