I like to know things–I like to solve puzzles, figure out mysteries, learn trivial facts. I want answers. So when I go before God in prayer, I often ask questions. Why is this person suffering? When will their suffering end, and how? Where were you in this disaster (as though God had stepped out for a minute and wasn’t aware of what happened)?
God stays silent.
I can grow frustrated in the silence or I can learn to trust. That doesn’t mean that I no longer want answers; just that I am willing to wait on God’s sovereign timing. It also means that I am need to more about God’s nature–God doesn’t keep secrets or withhold knowledge because He wants to torment me, or frustrate me, or play some cosmic mind game (though some people accuse Him of doing just that). God withholds full disclosure of His plans, His reasoning, and His nature out of love and compassion. Suppose I could see into the future, even give out warnings, but had no power to stop disaster from coming. Not only would I be haunted by the disaster itself, but by the full knowledge of its coming. Suppose I could see a miracle in advance; know when and how it would unfold. There would still be joy, but it would be muted by the foreknowledge– of course there would be a happy ending; of course there would be a miracle– I saw it all from afar off.
The Apostle Paul touches on this in 1 Corinthians, chapter 13. This is commonly known as the “Love Chapter”, and the first half is frequently quoted at weddings and church sermons. But the end of the chapter is a wonderful message of hope and faith, ending with Paul’s triumphant statement about all three:
1 Corinthians 13:8-13English Standard Version (ESV)
8 Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away.9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part,10 but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away.11 When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways.12 For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.
13 So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
God loves us with a perfect love. Because of that, I can trust Him, and have hope in the midst of my questioning. So when I pray with questions, I can know that God has “filed them away”– He is fully aware of my situation, questions and all, and He is fully faithful to answer them all in His perfect wisdom and timing. Someday, I will know– not only all that I don’t know now, but why I had to wait.
God will provide full disclosure. with compassion, love, and wisdom that only He can give.
November 10th marks the 50th anniversary of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, an iron freighter that sank in Lake Superior. The gale-force winds tossed the ship (carrying over 26,000 tons of iron) in waves of over 35 feet. All 29 sailors aboard the ship were lost. The event has been memorialized in song and stories, and in at least one museum display at Whitefish Point Michigan, near where the wreck occurred. The bell tolled 29 times, once for every life lost in the storm. Fifty years later, families are still haunted by the tragedy– a continuing reminder of the fragility of life, and the power and destructive force of winds and waves.
Some days, the hits just keep coming– an unexpected expense, a misunderstanding at work, a fender-bender during the commute, a plumbing nightmare, a migraine, the phone call with bad news. Each new pain rolls over us, throwing us off balance, and trying to drag us under like a storm-tossed ship.
“Even so, it is well with my soul.” The story of this favorite hymn has been told many times, but it bears repeating. ( It Is Will With My Soul. wikipedia.org ) The author of these words had lost everything– his only son had died; shortly afterward, he lost almost all his money and property in the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. A friend, knowing of his troubles invited him to bring his family to England for an evangelistic campaign. Mr. Spafford (the above-mentioned author of the hymn) had to stay behind and sent his wife and four daughters ahead. Their ship, the Ville du Havre, was struck by another vessel and sank. All four of the daughters were drowned, and only his wife survived to send him news of the tragedy. As he made the heartbreaking voyage to rejoin his wife, he passed the place where his daughters had most likely gone down. At that moment, Mr. Spafford felt a welling of peace and hope beyond human understanding, which led him to pen the words that have given comfort to so many in the years since:
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well with my soul.
Nothing can prepare us for the sorrows that sweep over us at unexpected moments. Nothing can stop them, and though we know they will come, no one knows how high they will rise, or when they will crest and break around us. No one except the one who set the boundaries of the sea, the one who has walked on its waters, and the one who can calm the storm.
God doesn’t remove the sorrows or tragedies from our life or prevent them from washing around and over us. But for those who trust in him, there is a promise that we will not be consumed. We may be in a storm-tossed boat in the middle of a raging sea, but at our faintest cry, Jesus will walk on choppy waves to be by our side and bring comfort. He will teach us to be in awe of him as he commands the winds and waves to obey him. He will teach us to trust him in the good times and the bad. He will teach us to say, “It is well with my soul!”
35 Who can separate us from the love of Christ? Can affliction or anguish or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? 36 As it is written: Because of You we are being put to death all day long; we are counted as sheep to be slaughtered.[a] 37 No, in all these things we are more than victorious through Him who loved us. 38 For I am persuaded that not even death or life, angels or rulers, things present or things to come, hostile powers, 39 height or depth, or any other created thing will have the power to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord! Romans 8:35-39 (HCSB)
So often when I pray, I do so in isolation, and I think of it as a solitary activity. I am communicating with God– often silently–it is a private conversation. Or is it?
At any given moment on any given day, millions of prayers are ascending to Heaven. Consider the arithmetic of prayer– millions of prayers, millions of pray-ers, and God is part of each one–twice the number of participants. But God is triune– so now there are four participants in every “personal” prayer, and four participants for every one in a group prayer! It’s mind-blowing to think of all the spiritual investment that is happening through prayer at this very instant around the world. And in heaven? Our prayers ascend; God likens our prayers to incense– a pleasing aroma. If I light a scented candle, or burn incense, the aroma is not personal– it permeates the air, penetrates my clothing, clings to my hair, lingers and touches on all who are nearby. This doesn’t diminish the intimacy of prayer, but transcends it, and transforms it. God is relational– from the intimacy of private prayer to the glory of his kingdom– he wants us to belong, to share, and to love. Love doesn’t happen in a vacuum. It is not a solitary activity, nor one in which anyone is “just a number.”
I think we are often deceived and intimidated by numbers and statistics. We sometimes feel very small and powerless and alone. We measure our prayers by their duration or the number of our words, or how small our perceived influence. We pray alone or in a tiny group, or seem to get swallowed in a crowd, and we think our prayers travel a linear path to God’s ears and they are ended. May our eyes be opened to the reality that we are never alone, never helpless, and never unimportant to God–that our prayers, like incense, linger, radiate, and echo as they ascend.
God uses the small and humble things in life to confound those who think they are wise and powerful and important. He is the God who changes our suffering into sufficiency, and our abiding into abundance. He multiplies our faith, and increases our joy; he divides our sorrows and cancels out our sin. He hears our every sigh. He dries our every tear. He knows our every thought. He inhabits the praises of his people– let that sink in as we pray today.
Several years ago, it became incredibly fashionable (literally) to wear t-shirts, necklaces, and especially bracelets with the four letters, WWJD– which stood for “What Would Jesus Do?” This was supposed to serve as a reminder that the wearer was an ambassador of the Kingdom of God, and was supposed to be a follower of Jesus, and thus should act in accordance with what Jesus would do in any given situation. Stuck in traffic–What would Jesus do? Presumably, we would not lose his temper, honk and scream obscenities, or rudely try to cut or push others off the road. Tempted by the scantily clad actors and actresses in a new R-rated movie– What would Jesus do? Presumably, he would not attend R-rated movies filled with sexual situations in the first place, or, finding himself tempted, he would leave the movie.
I think the intention was good in the beginning– even scriptural in a sense. The Children of Israel were commanded, in Deuteronomy 6: 8 to “tie them (God’s commandments, laws, and decrees) as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates.” Throughout the Bible, the patriarchs, prophets, Jesus, and the apostles, often spoke of keeping God’s Word in our hearts and on our minds as we go through our daily routines. This short reminder should help us do just that– redirect our thoughts to the One we are to follow. As far as it achieved that goal, it was a good thing.
The problem is that it didn’t work that way for most people. The jewelry or the t-shirt didn’t serve as a reminder to the wearer, but as a symbol to everyone else. “Hey, look at me! I’m wearing a fashionable accessory with a cryptic message that lets you know that my thoughts and actions represent Jesus here on earth!” Ironically, Jesus would have been the last person to wear such an item– not only because he wouldn’t have to ask the question (BEING Jesus, and all), but because his focus was on others–Jesus didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, or his wrist, and he didn’t call attention to his own righteousness. Instead, he spoke to outcasts, and touched lepers. He acted in accordance with God’s wishes, not because he had decided what he thought God would want him to do, but because he knew who God wanted him to become.
One of the worst casualties of the WWJD craze is that many people substituted their own wisdom for a study of God’s word– in other words, they imagined what Jesus would (or might) have done, instead of learning and following what he DID. Of course, Jesus was never stuck in a traffic jam. But he did face demands on his time, and stressful situations. He was never tempted by movies or internet porn, but he was surrounded by a culture that had “religious” “temple” prostitutes, along with sexual immorality not that different from what we see today. The Bible doesn’t give us a picture of Jesus planning and executing a strategy for specific temptations– it DOES give us specific examples of people over a long period of time who failed or triumphed over temptations, big and small, and of people who turned to God for strength to overcome temptation and grace when they had fallen. It also gives us a picture of Jesus living a life that was perfectly pleasing to God– including a life of prayer.
What would Jesus pray? Look at John 17. Look at Luke 11:1-4 or Luke 22: 39-48. Look at Mark 14: 32-42. There are many examples of Jesus’ prayers– prayers that pour out his heart to his Father– in faith, in pain, in grief, and in hope. In fact, it would be appropriate to say in answer to the question, “What would Jesus do?”– Jesus would take it to God in Prayer! Look at the way He taught His disciples to pray:
“And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you. And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. “This, then, is how you should pray:
“‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us today our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one. For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins. (Matthew 6:5-15 NIV)
Jesus did not ask the Father to give His disciples a blueprint of “Holy” activities or attitudes. He asked for fundamentals– that God’s Kingdom would come; that God would meet our daily needs; that God would forgive us as we forgive others; and that God would steer us away from temptations and evil. For everything else, Jesus directed His disciples to DO what He did, not ask what He would do. Reach out to those who are needy and hurting with love and practical help. Forgive. Tell the Truth. Worship God above all else, and go to Him in prayer.
Jesus didn’t come to earth and live his life to make us great, or successful, powerful or popular by the world’s standards. He came to seek and to save those who were lost. He asks us to do the same– not in our own strength or success, but in the overflow of the grace and power he has poured into us. T-shirts and jewelry are nice, but Jesus used his life–his time, his love, his talents, his words and his actions in accordance with God’s will and God’s wise commands to bring people to himself. Then he did what none of us could do– he fulfilled God’s law, becoming the perfect sacrifice for our sins, and conquering Sin and death. What would Jesus do? He DID IT! It is FINISHED! Our part is not to do what only God can do, but to what he has asked of us and trust him to do the rest.
This is also true in our pursuit of prayer. I often get side-tracked in wondering if my prayers match up to what Jesus might have prayed in the same situation– and that shouldn’t be my immediate focus. Prayer is, as I have to keep reminding myself, a pursuit. It is a process and a journey, and an ongoing, deepening conversation with the one who loves me best. And it is not a one-sided conversation– God answers my prayers, not just by meeting immediate needs or changing circumstances. He speaks through his law, through the Psalms and prophets, through the Gospels and the Epistles, and through the godly wisdom of friends and counselors and ministers of his Grace. And in doing so, he teaches me to pray.
May I stop worrying so much about the length or the style or the “worthiness” of my prayers. May I instead listen, and learn, and continue the pursuit.
Years ago, a decorated fighter pilot, Robert Scott, wrote a book with the title, “God is My Co-Pilot.” It was made into a movie, and the title became a popular phrase for bumper stickers, posters, and more.
More recently, there have been several people who have spoken out against the catch-phrase, by saying something to the effect of ,”If God is your co-pilot, someone is sitting in the wrong seat!” I mean no disrespect to Mr. Scott, the book, the movie, the bumper stickers or even the critics, but I think both sentiments kind of miss the point.
There is a much better analogy in the title of an lesser-known book by another pilot. Pilot and high school basketball coach Floyd Eby wrote a book called “Calling God’s Tower– Come In, Please.”
I’m not a pilot or a coach, and I’m not claiming that Scott’s title is bad, or that Eby’s book is “better.” Certainly, when I pray, I believe that God is always right beside me, that he hears me, and that he knows my thoughts and my heart intimately. I think that is the intent of the co-pilot analogy, and as such, it rings true. But God is much more than a partner, a co-pilot, or a colleague. The danger of this thinking is that we take God for granted. If God is my co-pilot, I won’t turn to him for help unless something is going wrong and “my way” isn’t working.
“I am the vine; you are the branches. The one who remains in me and I in him produces much fruit, because you can do nothing without me.” (John 15:5 CSB)
So what about “switching seats?” Shouldn’t God be my pilot? He is God and I’m not. It is true that this represents a better view of God’s authority and sovereignty. It is also true that God is greater, stronger, and wiser than I am. But I think this view, though more accurate in portraying our position, gives rise to another dangerous idea– that I can sit back and be little more than a passenger, while God does all the flying. One of the valid criticisms of modern Christianity (especially in America), is that we know about Christ, and talk about Christ, but we don’t always live for Christ. We see the finished work of Christ as an excuse to sit back, smug and complacent about morality, evangelism, obedience, and good works. We shout, “Jesus Paid it All!” and mumble “All to Him I Owe.” We want to sit in the cockpit for the pretty view, but we don’t want to learn how to fly the plane.
“I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:12-13
God has given us the privilege and the responsibility to be the pilots (or drivers, or captains) of our lives–He gives us the free will to make choices and steer our behavior or actions. We are not helpless passengers on a fatalistic trip through this life. He has equipped us to know the thrill of soaring and banking and flying through the clouds. But God doesn’t leave us to fly blindly through the haze and clouds and glare. He gives us his word, which, like a map, chart, instrument panel, or GPS system, shows us where and how we should go. And, like the air control tower, he gives extra guidance, listens to our needs, and provides assurance as we stay tuned to him.
God also sees and knows more than we do in our cockpit. When I’m “calling God’s Tower”, he knows all that goes on above and below, ahead and behind– he knows about the storms in the distance or the other planes scheduled to arrive or take off from the airport. I can trust his advice, his commands, and his presence more than my own judgment or eyesight.
I want to learn how to fly; I want to soar like an eagle, and I want to come in for a safe landing at the end of my journey. I need to keep in constant contact with God’s tower and follow His wise flight plan.
I’ve been asking myself “why?” a lot lately in regards to this blog. Why am I spending my time writing about prayer? Wouldn’t I be better served to spend my time productively– making something useful, keeping the apartment cleaner, going to the gym–even spending more time in prayer instead of dissecting it and babbling on to an invisible audience?
But the truth is that I began writing this blog in response to another question, a more basic question thrown at me (not personally, but thrown out to all who believe in the power of prayer)– “WHY?” They weren’t asking the question because they really wanted to know my reasons for praying; instead, they wanted to make me feel ashamed and embarrassed, to doubt God’s goodness and my faith. In fact, they weren’t asking “WHY” so much as asking “HOW”. How can you continue to believe in God and continue praying in light of random shootings, manifest injustices, rampant corruption, and senseless tragedies? How can you say that God is good, when people continue to get away with evil? If God exists, where is he, and how can you just sit back and trust in him?
The fact that I DO continue to trust God doesn’t mean I don’t have questions and concerns, and even righteous anger about the state of the world and the tragedies that fill it. The questions come pouring out, sometimes keeping me awake at night, sometimes catching me at a raw moment– and they are important questions. To pretend that I never wrestle or struggle with the questions is to say that good and evil, justice and mercy, that God himself– none of it really matters enough to seek an answer. God forbid!!
But there is a vast difference in asking “Why?” and challenging God by saying “How? or How come?”
Consider a small child who asks, “Why is the sky blue?” (Don’t you just love the inquisitiveness of small children?) “Well…” I can explain that the sky itself isn’t really blue…I can go on to talk about scientific principals– the property of light, refraction through water molecules and dust particles, and more..I can point out that the sky doesn’t always appear blue, etc. At the end of my long and factual discourse (assuming the child hasn’t already interrupted), s/he is likely to simply shake their head and ask, “But, why?” WHY? Because I haven’t really answered the heart of the question. I explained HOW, not WHY.
Now suppose I don’t feel like being pedantic, and I simply answer “Because.” You can guess what comes next. The child will ask, “Because WHY?” Because “Because” isn’t a sufficiently satisfactory answer. The child wants more; he/she yearns for more comprehension; more understanding.
As an adult, we find this kind of questioning frustrating and annoying. I think it is because we have been conditioned to think that questions either have a “How come” explanation that sweeps away much of the wonder and mystery, or a “because” answer that leaves us unsatisfied. We are frustrated by questions to which we already have a pat answer, and we are frustrated by questions to which we have never received a satisfactory answer.
As an adult, I may well ask, “Why is there evil in the world?” This is an important question; one I should be asking. Experts can and will give me all kinds of “how” answers– how the brain is wired, how emotions work, how society has failed various groups of people, how political structures create oppression, how religion teaches intolerance, how poor diet or lack of sunny days … there are a million explanation of “how” evil exists or why it persists. And many of these explanations contradict each other, so they can’t even give a conclusive answer. But just throwing up my hands, and saying, “just because” does nothing to answer my question OR provide understanding that could help alleviate the effects of evil in the world. “Because” communicates my powerlessness to comprehend.
BUT
Something amazing happens when I stop merely asking people for answers to these questions and start asking God. I don’t get a magical, comprehensive, incontrovertible answer to life’s thorny questions. God doesn’t send me a “cheat sheet” with all the “right” answers. I’m not suddenly an expert on good and evil or what should be done to eliminate crime and disease and poverty. I still have to wade through the “how come” explanations and use my limited judgment to decide what course of action I can take to try to make a positive difference. And I will make some mistakes along the way. But when GOD says, “Because”, there is an authority, a majesty, and a wisdom that can never be present in my answer. I say “because,” because I have no more to say; no better answer. God says, “Because,” because HE IS the answer! And the cause! And he gives explanations in his word for many of my questions– even if I don’t like the answers! He doesn’t explain “how come” the sky is blue–even though science can tell me the “how come.” God doesn’t have to explain the blue sky –He causes it to be blue. “Why is the sky blue?” God makes it so. “But why?” Because He is God and I am not. God explains “how come” there is evil in the world– it’s called SIN–but he doesn’t leave it there. “Why?” Because we have the free will to choose good or evil. “Why?” Because God wants willing obedience and loving companionship with us. “Why?” Because God is love! “So why does he allow evil to continue?” Because he has a plan that involves redemption and restoration and renewal. He is the cause of this plan, he is its author and finisher. Moreover, he is the cause of my desire to ask “why?”, to seek for a more fulfilling answer, to yearn for a solution to the very evil that prompts my questions.
I won’t stop asking “why.” Not because I don’t have any answer, or because I don’t know the answer. It’s just that the answer is so much bigger, so much better, so much MORE than I can handle in the shortness of this lifetime. And it’s important that I not only keep asking the question, but that I keep defending the answer. Because perhaps today, or tomorrow, or every day next week, someone may ask me WHY?
1 Peter 3:14-16English Standard Version (ESV)
14 But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled,15 but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect,16 having a good conscience, so that, when you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ may be put to shame.
Gossip and judgment are nasty habits– what happens when they creep into our prayer life?
I’ve sometimes struggled with the idea of praying for those who have hurt me or mistreated those I love. We are commanded to do it, but often, I am tempted to pray about my enemies instead of praying for them. As if God didn’t know what they had done; as if he needed me to alert him to their bad behavior, and remind him of how I was slighted, misunderstood, or powerless to bring justice to my friend or family member who was wronged. I want to tell God how to treat them– how to punish them, or abase them, or bring them to feel remorse. I want to hang on to the indignation and sense of victimhood–after all, God is going to make it right in the end, vindicating me and humiliating them, right? Except that’s not how it works in God’s economy…My vindication does not come at their expense, but through the blood of the truly innocent Lamb of God. Let that sink in. God is not in the business of torturing others to make himself feel more righteous. If I want to follow Christ, my actions, and my prayers, should be full of his Grace, not my bitterness.
I am not alone in this– and I’m sure I have been “prayed about” often enough. Even saints and matriarchs of old have done it. And King David was guilty of it as well–several of the Psalms include angry, even vicious rants against David’s enemies. It’s understandable; it’s only natural for us to feel indignant, angry, and hurt in the face of injustice, unkindness, hatred, and abuse. And it’s not inappropriate for us to cry out for justice, or pour out our hurt and frustration. But it is wrong to stand in judgment and unforgiveness when we come before the throne of Heaven.
I believe that these are the difficult prayers that teach us to know God better– as well as ourselves. To pray for those who have hurt us means that we must move beyond what they have done– not to deny it, or to excuse or forget about it, but to give it over to God –and deal with who they are. They are lost exactly as we are lost, but for the grace of God. They are redeemable, not because they can undo or atone for what has happened, but because God says that whosoever trusts in Him can be saved. They are precious in God’s sight. When we stop focusing on who hurt us, and how, we can instead focus on who heals us, and how he wants to heal others.
These prayers also serve to remind us that our true “enemies” are not the people who say or do unkind or even wicked things. Our true enemies are not the ones who can hurt our feelings, or even our minds or bodies. Our true enemies are the ones who would steal our souls– who tempt us to hold on to rage and despair, to hopelessness and doubt, to bitterness and shame.
It is so easy to write these words, and to “know” the right thing to do. But it is a painful, heartbreaking, humbling, stumbling uphill climb to DO the right thing. I still catch myself so often praying about certain people, instead of praying for them. God knows my heart–he knows if my prayer is sincere. And, as I struggle, I am reminded that the change I would wish to see in someone else mirrors the change I should wish to see in me The same Grace that God sends to heal and comfort me is the same Grace he offers to everyone who will take it–even when they choose not to accept it.
So I hope I am learning to pray for those who sneer at me; those who lash out in their own pain, anger, or thoughtlessness. To pray for their health and safety, their well-being, and their wholeness. For their sake–for the sake of the One who loves them eternally. And in the hope that healing and restoration will triumph over what lies in the past.
When will the violence end? How long, O Lord, must we wait for justice? Why did you allow this to happen?
And it has happened again. A school-related shooting, this time in Minneapolis, Minnesota. News feeds were filled with information, speculation, analysis, and commentary for days after the incident. A week later, the fury seems to have moved on, and the fate of the two murdered children, their families, and the other wounded victims of the shooter’s rampage are dwarfed by the cries of those with a political agenda. Some are raising concerns over gun control; others want to look at the effect of puberty blockers and other treatments used for those in the trans community. Everyone looking for a quick explanation and a quick solution, so that this “never happens again.”
Senseless violence, natural disasters, sudden tragic circumstances, still have the power to shock us, overwhelm us, shake our confidence, our composure, our beliefs. Most of us want to believe that we live in a predictable world, a safe and orderly world, a world that has been tamed, and groomed, and civilized. And we don’t want those beliefs shattered with the truth– life is unpredictable, filled with tragedy, evil, and danger, and it will end in death. I’m not saying this as a cynic or a pessimist– life is also wonderful, filled with love, laughter, achievement, delight, and eternally precious. But why are we so deeply disturbed to face the truth about our troubled world?
I believe it is due, in part, to the recognition that this is a fallen world. It was not made for evil and tragedy and death, but every tragedy reminds us that the whole earth groans for restoration to what it was always meant to be. The echo of Eden, and the hope of Heaven live in us, and the reality of our lost state cannot be denied when tragedy strikes. The pleasant facade of the triumph of reason and humanity cracks, and we are forced to see that evil resides next door, down the street, across town, perhaps even in our own hearts and minds.
I love the movie “The Princess Bride” (ask any of my friends–I can quote whole scenes!), but when I first saw it in the theater, there was one line that struck me like a punch in the stomach. The Dread Pirate Roberts (a.k.a. Westley) kidnaps/rescues Buttercup from her original captors, and after she tells him of the pain and desolation of losing her true love, he doesn’t comfort her by revealing that he is, indeed, her own sweet love, still alive and well. Instead, he says, “Life is pain, highness. Anyone who tells you differently is selling something.” Wha-what?! What kind of lover, when confronted by that kind of tragic outpouring, says something so callous? To quote another line from the movie, “Why don’t you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it?” But Westley is not heartless. The line is memorable, both because it is jarring in its context, and because we recognize that it holds a truth. Anyone who tells you that this life will be free of pain and suffering IS selling something. In the movie, Humperdink is “selling” the idea that he is going to make Buttercup a princess and marry her, and they will live happily ever after; all the while planning to kill her. In today’s world, there are people trying to sell us ideas– that they “have it all figured out”; that truth and justice and morality and even a person’s worth and value are all relative; that God doesn’t exist or that he doesn’t care; that evil is a figment of our imagination, or that human institutions can create a perfect society and “save” the planet from other human activities and institutions.
Jesus tells us in John 16:33 that in this world, we will have trials, trouble, tribulation, and/or suffering (depending on which version you read). Not because God doesn’t care; not because he is incapable of stopping tragedies, but because we (humankind) have turned away from God, and the consequence of our rebellion is tragedy and death. He doesn’t tell us this because he is callous or insensitive or cynical. In fact, in the next phrase, he tells us to take heart, and to be of good cheer, for he has overcome the world. HE has overcome the world, and in doing so, he has given us hope, and peace, and strength– not to avoid or deny tragedy, but to overcome it, and to triumph over it.
How does this relate to the pursuit of prayer? Prayer is not a magic panacea in times of trouble– it isn’t a chocolate-coated miracle pill. Prayer (and sharing thoughts and prayers with those who are suffering) doesn’t make the suffering disappear– it doesn’t lessen the horror or the evil of an event, and it doesn’t guarantee that future hate, violence, injustice, or tragedy will disappear or even diminish. But prayer reminds us that evil will not always triumph; that it need not overwhelm us, paralyze us, or defeat us. I believe it can bring us from being “mostly dead” in despair, fruitless rage, divisive finger-pointing and fault-finding, “inconceivable” arguments, vengeful fantasies, and conceited self-indulgence, back to abundant life in Christ, and renewed courage to do what is kind and loving, even in the face of evil. Prayer should also restore our focus on what is good, and noble, and true, so that we can be equipped to fight for what is right, instead of just ranting against what is wrong.
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.– Philippians 4:8
I pray, in the wake of this newest tragedy, that God would show me where I am wrong in my thoughts and actions toward Him and toward others; that he would surround those who are suffering pain and loss, giving them comfort, strength and renewed purpose in the days ahead; that he would lead us to have the tough conversations, and take the right steps to bring renewal, restoration, hope, and healing to our communities and our land; and finally, that we would listen to, and acknowledge the truth, and take heart as we focus on the One who has overcome the world.
There is a dangerous idea that sometimes appears in Christian circles. If we are struggling with circumstances, someone, usually with good intentions, will ask us if we have prayed. Then they may suggest that we haven’t prayed “enough” or that maybe we haven’t prayed the “right” way.
We want to see results– immediate, dramatic, positive results. It’s what we expect from everything else in life; from the drive-thru fast food place, the vacation resort, weight loss program, graduation, manicure, even marriage. When results are not evident, or slow in coming, we think we can and must do something to speed up the process. We begin looking around for what else we can try– what else we “should have” done– to get the results we want. We even say to ourselves that God wants more from us before he will provide blessing or healing or a breakthrough.
But that’s not always the case. God makes everything good–IN HIS TIME. He has the power to bring about immediate change, but he frequently chooses to walk with us through the times of stress and shadows, when we can’t see the end from the beginning, and we are tempted to turn back or doubt. He doesn’t do this because he enjoys seeing us go through struggles, but because he knows that we learn to lean on him, to trust him, and to find our strength in him by traveling the narrow road.
Our prayers need to focus on God’s love and faithfulness. He knows our need, sees our situation, and hears our prayers. Our job is to know His word, look for his hand in our situation, and listen for his counsel as we trust him. We should not grow weary of praying or give up in our efforts. But neither should we doubt God’s wisdom or try to manipulate his timing with empty gestures or endless repetition.
Sometimes, we may find that God changes our desires, or opens our eyes to habits we need to change or worries we need to give over to him. Hear out those well-meaning folks–some of them may carry God’s wisdom. But in the end, our prayers– our life’s struggles and triumphs– are in God’s hands, not theirs. It’s not the quantity or the quality of your prayer that makes the difference. It’s the perfect love and timing of God.
Remember that even Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane– he prayed with so much intensity that he sweat blood drops. He prayed more than once that God might let the burden of death and separation pass from him. It wasn’t that Jesus didn’t pray “enough”, or that his prayers weren’t valid. It wasn’t that God didn’t listen or care about his own son. But God sent the assurance that Jesus needed to end his prayers with “Thy will be done.” So it should be with our prayers.
Have you ever watched a sporting event–a real nail-biter–and prayed for your team to win? Do you wonder if God is concerned about Little League or High School Basketball, or which team wins the Superbowl? And what about the parents and coaches on both teams praying to him–one side has to “lose”–how does God answer such prayers? DOES he answer such prayers?
While the Bible doesn’t give us a specific answer, I think there are some general principles that apply. When teams prepare for a big game, they may talk about their desire to win, they may study their opponents, assess their own strengths and weaknesses, and give themselves pep-talks about winning, but they don’t practice winning– they practice playing their best, improving those areas where they are weakest, and working to bring their best on game day. They don’t pray to win by default or by bad sportsmanship.
The apostle Paul uses athletic analogies for the Christian life– he talks about running the good race, fighting the good fight, and working to be worthy of the prize. But he doesn’t direct Christians to pray that God gives us a victory. Instead, he points out that the greatest victory– that over sin and death– has already been won! We don’t fight the battles wondering if our victory or loss will turn the tide of the war. We fight in the hope of strengthening our fellow warriors and bringing our victorious Savior more glory and honor.
This holds true in other areas as well. In politics, we fight to win, but not in desperation or despair, knowing that if we lose this battle, God is not defeated or even surprised by the outcome. Even in situations of corruption, despotism, and chaos, God can raise up leaders, topple evil powers, and bring renewal and revival. In war, we fight to win, we fight to defend what we know to be right; but even if we lose the battles, we don’t lose faith.
God doesn’t always give us “wins.” He doesn’t guarantee that we will never face setbacks or disappointments. In fact, sometimes we need to “lose.” We need to lose our selfish ambition, our pride, our drive to compare ourselves with others, our envy and greed, and our failure to submit to God’s best plan.
We pray for victory, but more than victory at any cost, we pray for God’s will to be victorious– for his strength to be shown even in and through our own weakness. We pray for victory on God’s terms– which may mean a painful loss today, and grieving for the night, but joy that comes in the morning. Great teams, great nations, great leaders– are not forged in continuous expectation of easy victory. Sometimes we learn more and become greater by learning from our failures.
Let’s not just pray to win– let’s pray to be more than conquerors (Romans 8:37)!
Pursuing Prayer 