I call this blog “Pursuing Prayer.” I believe prayer is a pursuit; a discipline that one can learn from, grow into, and practice faithfully in life. But prayer is also a sacrifice. It involves giving of time, space, and honest reflection.
Sometimes, prayer is a willing and joyful sacrifice. I want to come and spend time with My Father in praise and worship, adoration, and even asking for His guidance and wisdom. But sometimes, the sacrifice is hard. I may dread coming to God when I know I have been dishonest or unfaithful. Like any relationship, I cherish the easy times, the relaxing times, and the expectations of challenges met and conquered. I don’t look forward to the hard work, the waiting, or the corrections that God may have for me.
One type of sacrifice that doesn’t belong in the prayer of a believer is the Sin sacrifice. As described in the Old Testament books, the sin sacrifice had to be given to cover over the sins of individuals, priests and even the entire nation. The Israelites even had to give a sin offering for unintentional or accidental sins!
Unfortunately, I sometimes make the mistake of thinking that I must make a similar “sin sacrifice” in my prayer life– that I have to rehearse and recount all my past sins before God will hear me or act on my behalf. And that is NOT Biblical. If we are truly trusting in Jesus’ finished work on the cross, we are not obligated to offer token sacrifices as a means of covering over our past. Christ’s blood IS sufficient! (See 1 John 2:2, 2 Corinthians 5:21,1 Peter 2:24, and Romans 5:9 among others)
So when I talk about prayer of confession, I’m not talking about pouring out long laundry lists of sins I committed last week or thirty years ago. God already knows– in fact He knew about them before they happened!–and He has already forgiven me. That doesn’t mean that He wants me to pretend they never happened or that He doesn’t want me to feel the regret or understand the consequences of what I have done. Instead, He wants me to understand and rejoice in His overwhelming Mercy and Grace! My sacrifice, when I confess my sins, is a sacrifice of praise for God’s willingness to offer what I can never earn or deserve or atone for– complete forgiveness and restoration! I am agreeing with God about who I am and what I’ve done, AND about what He has done for me!
There are other times when prayer can be a difficult sacrifice. Sometimes, I am compelled to pray for those who have hurt me, or those whose actions have hurt others. I am commanded to pray for leaders– that may include church leaders who have sinned, or national leaders who have broken their promises or caused great damage. I am commanded to love my enemies, even if they never repent for things they have done.
Once again, I should be reminded of the sufficiency of Christ’s sacrifice for our sins. He didn’t just die for my Sin; He died for the sins that were committed against me. I may still feel the pain and consequences of that Sin for as long as I live on this earth. But I can trust and be confident that God has dealt with it. And that causes me to rejoice, because I can’t turn back time; I can’t undo the bad things that have happened; I can’t create perfect justice to punish my enemy. But I can let go of the burden of trying to make things “as they should be.” God will do it; He has promised! I can stop wallowing in the “what ifs” or the “what-could-have-beens;” the endless “whys” and “why me’s” that take up so much of my time and focus. Instead, I can leave them as a sacrifice on the altar of prayer, pledging my trust in the Almighty to heal and help me forgive as I have been forgiven.
We don’t practice the old animal sacrifices of the Old Testament. And we don’t have to! But sacrifice is more than just bleeding sheep and burning incense. Sacrifice is offering all of who we are to the One who created us, sustains us, forgives us, and gives us abundant life!
Over there, over there, Send the word, send the word over there, That the Yanks are coming, the Yanks are coming, The drums rum-tumming everywhere. So prepare, say a prayer, Send the word, send the word to beware, We’ll be over, we’re coming over, And we won’t come back till it’s over over there.
“Over There” by George M. Cohan, 1917
In 1917, as war was raging in Europe, songwriter George M. Cohan wrote a song urging young men in America to take up arms and fight in a war that seemed remote and unconnected with American interests (at that time). Americans were reading about the atrocities and massive numbers of dead and dying in the fields and trenches of France, Germany, Belgium, and Russia (among other places), and they were moved to do something bold and dramatic. Little could they imagine the true horror that awaited them in the mud- and blood-covered lands across the sea. Driven by emotion, rage, and a certain optimism that came from being an emerging “world power,” the “Yanks” swept into Europe, and they fought and died to bring an end to “the war to end all wars.”
Of course, they didn’t abolish war– less than a generation later, Europe and Asia were engulfed in World War II. Wars have been almost constant– somewhere in the world– throughout history. Violence, vengeance, terror, torture, oppression and lawlessness well up and spill over all the time. Just over the past weekend, terrorists carried out vicious attacks on Israel, and Israel has responded with vicious retaliation.
The soldiers who went “over there” in WWI and WWII were no safer or braver or smarter than the many thousands who had already died. They arrived, and they were forced to march through mud, suffer through trench warfare, breathe in deadly mustard gas, and risk dying in order to bring peace–just like their European counterparts. Many of them died within days, never knowing the outcome of their sacrifice. And many of them were too young to remember first-hand stories of our own horrible Civil War and the devastation in our own land, or the full-scale destruction of the Napoleonic, Germanic, and Crimean wars of the nineteenth century.
I have seen memes and posts, sent from Americans, asking for prayers for Israel, prayers for Gaza, prayers for Palestine, and prayers for peace in the Middle East. We are moved and horrified by what we see and hear on TV or over the internet. Some of us are moved to pray; some are moved to seek governmental or even military intervention. And this is natural– we can only imagine what horrors have already taken place, and what others await as the violence continues to escalate.
But, in another sense, it is all happening– “Over There.” We see footage of atrocities– families being ripped apart or slaughtered in front of cameras– many recorded precisely to amplify the terror of their actions. But we sit in comfort and safety. We imagine that such viciousness would not happen in our own neighborhood; would not affect our own families–not that it NEVER could; but that it would not– not here; only “over there.” The Middle East, or central Africa, or Eastern Europe.
Among American Christians, there is a dangerous mindset that such atrocities might not happen here because we are a “Christian” nation, or just because of our geographical distance from some of the current “hot spots.” But God has no sacred contract with the United States. There is nothing sacred about the North American continent that God will not allow terror to overwhelm us (We should know this from 9/11)! He does not “owe” us His sovereign protection; we do not “deserve” a pass on hard times, violent conflict, or upheaval. And we must resist the urge to “explain” away such horror. “Oh, they’ve always had conflict in the Middle East.” “Well, if ________(event) hadn’t happened, this wouldn’t have been necessary.” There were many here in America who tried to rationalize the wars of the 20th century by referring to colonialism and reparations– as though war and violence, genocide and massive destruction are rational acts.
We SHOULD be praying for the region of Israel and Gaza– as well as the conflicts going on elsewhere around the world. We should speak out against the horrors and atrocities of terrorism and war– wherever we find them. But we must do so with the humility and humanity that recognizes the following:
God is still sovereign– these attacks and retaliations have not taken God by surprise. The chaos and bloodshed break His heart– but they do not change His plans, or alter His Holiness, or nullify His mercy. We can pray with hope and confidence in His timing and judgment, but we cannot pray in our own “righteous” opinions or knowledge. He is God– We are NOT.
God sends rain and sunshine on both the “righteous” and the “wicked.” We can take sides in any conflict, but we cannot know God’s full plan or His purposes in letting conflict arise, or letting it continue. Our prayers should reflect that, even as we pray for peace.
God’s message to us is the same as always– Trust Him and Obey His Word. Go, and preach the Gospel; make disciples, and BE disciples. Whether we are called to fight, to provide help and support, or even to wait in silence, we need to seek God’s wisdom, not our own.
God Loves Israel with an everlasting covenant–that does not mean that God does not love other nations and peoples, but it should cause us to remember that His covenant is with the descendants of Abraham and Isaac– not because they are holier or more worthy of His love, but because God chose them to be an example of His Mercy and His Wrath.
God is omnipresent– He is WITH all those who are suffering during this time. He is not willing that any should perish, not willing that any should succumb to hatred and destruction. Yet He is willing to allow for free will and giving people a chance to repent and turn from the path of violence and death. And, if such horrors rise up “over here,” God will still be the same God, the same all-knowing, all-seeing, all-powerful, and all-gracious God He is now, and always has been.
When violence strikes, I want justice. I want action. I want to make the evil stop.
Just the other day, there was another school shooting in the news. At least six innocent people lost their lives, and another community was ripped apart by grief, shock, and anger.
But is it really justice that I am seeking? Or is it vengeance?
Justice is permanent. Justice is final. Justice takes time. Vengeance is visceral and immediate. Vengeance is a reaction; a retaliation. Justice, on the other hand, is blind to the emotions of the initial event. Vengeance is driven by emotion. Justice comes through the objective application of the law.
Justice is God’s business. I do NOT understand why or how God allows evil to happen in the first place. It hurts. It doesn’t make sense. It is destructive. But it is the nature of Sin. And Sin infects the entire world. We cannot escape from it. We cannot deny its existence. We cannot put an end to it. We can only follow the arduous and imperfect justice systems that are in place for our community or our country. We cannot achieve perfect justice. But God can. And He has promised to do so– in His time, and in His way. This can be comforting, but it can also be frustrating.
Vengeance is also God’s business. God has emotions, just like we do. But His are always under perfect control. God’s wrath is frightening in its power, and paralyzing in its purpose.
Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.”
As imperfect as our systems of justice may be, they are still systems, with order and time to look at the total situation. Vengeance doesn’t stop to count the cost. It doesn’t stop to listen to the full story. It seethes and coils like a rattlesnake, waiting to inject venom into the first victim to cross its path. Human vengeance never leads to peace.
Also, vengeance is limited to the strength and resources of the avenger. If a shooter takes the life of my loved one, my vengeance is limited to the actions I can take. I may kill the shooter; I may take the life of their family members; but I cannot bring my loved one back, nor can I guarantee that the killer will suffer the same amount or the same way I do. Vengeance never looks forward, and it never offers a solution to move forward. It lives in bitterness and anger and discontent.
As followers of Christ, we are asked to take a stance that seems impossible from a human standpoint. We are asked to keep our hands clean, to keep our minds at peace, and to give our grief, our anger, and our craving for vengeance over to God with no reservation and no option to set the limits or timelines.
To the world around us, this seems weak and even unjust. What if the evildoer “gets away” with her/his crime? What if the victim never gets “justice” in their (or our) lifetime? What if we never “see” justice done? What if God “fails” to avenge us or our loved one? What does the Christian “do” in the face of evil? Nothing?! Fall on our knees and pray?! Offer lukewarm assurances and empty promises?
The problem with evil– especially shocking violent events– is that we can’t see beyond the immediate shock and pain. That doesn’t mean that there IS no pain or shock or anger or frustration if we choose not to react with vengeance. The pain is still very real, and overwhelming. But we choose to make room for faith that sees the larger picture. Faith makes room to see not just justice, but mercy. It allows us to see the overall tragedy of Sin, beyond our immediate tragedy of an individual act. Faith sees beyond our helplessness to God’s Sovereignty. It sees beyond the present pain to future healing.
I pray for the families of the victims in this latest shooting– and for all those who have experienced such violence. And I pray that God will show me what I can do to make a positive difference going forward. I pray for the strength and the faith to let go of hatred, bitterness, malice, and outrage. Finally, I praise God, even in the middle of pain and shock, knowing that He can be trusted to bring perfect Justice– and perfect vengeance–the kind that leads to a peace beyond our understanding. These are not “easy” prayers. They are not blind prayers, or prayers prayed without tears and groaning and questions. But they are real prayers, not empty wishes that I could avoid all unpleasantness or that I could exempt myself (or others) from tasting sorrow, grief or pain. Rather they are prayers that acknowledge that Life is more than struggle; that Love and Mercy are stronger than despair, and God has already won the ultimate victory.
I’m not talking about the current Queen of England–though it’s my understanding that she must, and does, pray as well as the rest of us. Sometimes we forget that even royalty have very human needs, and their power and authority, while greater than ours, is limited. God is still the ultimate authority. Instead, I’m thinking about the old testament Queen Esther/Hadassah.
Queen Esther’s position was one of great power– and of great peril. Her husband, Ahasueras, the King of Persia, had chosen her from among a host of women to replace the disgraced Queen Vashti. But Ahasueras was not a man of character and integrity. Vashti’s disgrace came after the King had been banqueting and drinking for a solid week, and this after six months of entertaining other heads of state! Ahasueras left the running of his kingdom in the hands of his ministers–even Vashti’s dismissal and Esther’s elevation were at the suggestion of the King’s counselors (though the King made the particular choice of Esther over all the other contenders). Ahasueras was unpredictable, capricious, vindictive, hot-headed, and easily led. He also had “unlimited” power– his word was, literally, law.
Even though Esther had risen to a place of prominence and (limited) power, she still faced danger, in the guise of her husband’s Prime Minister, Haman. Haman’s power was second only to the king, and he intended to use that power to rid himself of his enemy, Mordecai, a Jewish exile, who just happened to be the foster-father and cousin of Queen Esther! Not content with simply having Mordecai executed, Haman suggested to the gullible King Ahasueras that all the Jewish exiles throughout the kingdom should be slaughtered and plundered within a single day.
Queen Esther’s only option was to get the king to reverse his own edict– even if she managed to escape the genocidal plot, her silence would spell the doom of the entire scattered nation of her own people. Queen Esther could not trust in her own limited authority, nor in the beauty that had brought her to the throne. Only God could capture the heart and mind of such a king. Queen Esther began to pray.
And she didn’t just fall on her knees in silent despair She asked others to fast and pray for three days before she would approach the king. And she paved the way with another banquet, during which she flattered both the king and his arrogant prime minister before pleading for her life and the lives of her countrymen.
Esther’s beauty and grace alone were no match for Haman’s treachery. But God knew the end of this story from the beginning. Esther was in grave danger, but she was also in God’s loving and all-powerful hands. Esther is remembered for her bravery and poise in the face of Haman’s diabolical plotting, but also for her dependence on God’s power over her own.
What dangers will we face today? If Queen Esther needed to pray– and ask for prayer– in her situation, how much more should we be willing to do so in ours?!
There are a lot of angry people out there. They have ample reason to be angry. The world is filled with darkness, injustice, pain, sickness, violence, oppression..the list goes on. Such things should make us angry. Such things are wrong. They are destructive. They are evil.
But anger, even justified, cannot heal. It begets more anger, and yet more evil in the name of vengeance. Anger alerts us to evil, but it cannot be allowed to fester and corrode all that is good.
God created us with emotions, like anger, but He desires us to bring them under His discipline to become instruments of good. All the way back in Genesis, God cautioned Cain in his anger https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Genesis+4%3A1-16&version=NIV God did not condemn Cain for his anger, but he warned him not to be mastered by it. Cain did not listen, and in his anger, he committed the first murder. God’s wrath against Cain was swift and terrible– God cursed the ground, so it would not produce for Cain; He drove Cain to wander in the barren wilderness. Even so, God put a mark of protection on Cain, and promised His own vengeance on anyone who would try to kill him. God’s mercy overwhelmed simple retribution. God had the power (and the right) to strike Cain dead. He chose to let Cain live with the dark consequences of his anger.
God understands that we will get angry– He gets angry, too! But God sees beyond anger, beyond the immediate pain and rage that we feel when confronted with evil. God’s ways are eternal and Holy and right.
If we turn to God in our anger– if we cry out to Him and wait for His wisdom, He can turn even our anger and bitterness into something far better– resolve. We can resolve to bring good out of tragedy; we can resolve to work, and sweat, and pray, and stand firm in the midst of the storm. If anger is like fire– swift and destructive, then resolve is like a mountain–enduring and offering shelter, protection, and a fixed reference. Fire can scorch the mountain. But it cannot move it or destroy it.
We are living in uncertain and evil times. Let us acknowledge it; even be angered by it. But then, let us bring our anger, our pain, our confusion– and our hope–to God. As God warned Cain, if we do not do what is right, sin will be crouching at our door, desiring to have us; to destroy us and drive us away from God’s presence. If we deny our anger, if we push it down and pretend that it has no power to touch us, we are playing with fire. But if we bring it to God, acknowledging the struggle, crying out in our pain, God can turn our anger into resolve– steadfast through fire and storm and wind and time. Solidly committed to what is good and right and truly just.
Anger, violence, vengeance–all promise easy justice and powerful change. But once the fire of emotion and action has passed, we are left with ashes and death. But on the mountain of resolve, even the ashes become mixed with the good soil underneath to produce new life and growth. The good endures. The good resolves to endure. Goodness is eternal. Let us seek the good, and seek that God would, beyond our anger, grant us resolve.
**Spoiler alert** If you have not seen this movie, or read the book, I will be disclosing large portions of the plot in the paragraphs below.
I love the movie, The Princess Bride. Though it is not a “spiritual” tale, and not meant to be a Christian allegory, I find a lot of Biblical truth in this story. In my last post, I looked at the skeptic, Vizzini, whose exaggerated claims of intellect and trust in his own brilliance lead to his downfall.
Today, I want to look at one of his sidekicks– Inigo Montoya. Inigo is a reluctant mercenary. He works for Vizzini “just to pay the bills.” His only real ambition is to find his father’s killer and demand vengeance. This has been his guiding ambition for over 20 years, and he is committed to killing his father’s murderer in a duel– if only he can find the elusive villain!
Inigo knows three things– he knows the villain roams free and has never been brought to justice; he carries the scars from his own failed sword fight with the man, so he knows his skill and ruthlessness; and he knows the man has six fingers on his right hand. He doesn’t know the man’s name or rank, where he lives, what he does for a living, if he still lives, if he has a family– he really doesn’t know how or where to look for him, and he has no plan beyond challenging the man to a rematch to avenge his father.
I cannot condone Inigo’s thirst for vengeance https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+12%3A19&version=ESV, nor his half-baked plan to achieve his goal. But Inigo’s great love for his father and his belief in justice make him a likable character. Unlike Vizzini, Inigo seems concerned for the princess’s welfare and fate, and reluctant to be involved in something that could lead to her harm (or even death). Once he meets the “man in black” who comes to rescue the princess, he treats him with honor and admires his courage and skill, even as he is pledged to try to stop him. He allows his foe to catch his breath, prepare for battle, and even shares his sad tale in the hopes that the man in black can help him find his Nemesis.
Inigo isn’t a very good villain; he is too honorable, too ready to help others he meets along the way. But he attracts miracles along his journey, and I’d like to look at three-and-a-half miracles today.
Miracles come in different types. Some are miracles of preservation; some are miracles of healing; some of transformation.
Inigo’s first “miracle” is actually a series of miracles of preservation. Three times, Inigo is involved in sword battles, and three times he is preserved. At age eleven, he watches as his father is ruthlessly slaughtered by the villainous six-fingered man. Inigo tries to fight for his father’s honor, but is defeated. The six-fingered man leaves him scarred and humiliated, but considers Inigo nothing more than a “brat,” and considers that he has “taught him a lesson,” so he lets him live. It doesn’t seem like a miracle, but Inigo is given a chance to grow up, when he easily could have been killed. He uses this opportunity to become a great swordsman, so he can find his father’s killer and challenge him to a rematch! When Inigo challenges the mysterious man in black, he is formidable in battle, yet he loses. He is winded, scratched, and disarmed by the stranger, and expects to be killed. Yet, again, he is spared– this time out of respect. The stranger renders him unconscious, but does not kill him. Inigo recovers and finally gets the chance for vengeance against his nemesis, Count Rugen. He challenges the Count to a duel. But the Count cheats, and Inigo is gravely wounded before the battle even begins. Miraculously, he finds the strength of body and will to continue the fight. Struggling against the loss of blood, the taunts of his enemy, and his own sense of failure, Inigo continues to fight, gaining strength and momentum, until he wins–bringing justice to his father, and defeating his enemy.
The second miracle is one of guidance. Inigo needs help to reach his goal of finding and confronting Count Rugen. He needs the help of the very man he fought earlier– the mysterious man in black. But the tables have turned. The man in black has been taken captive and tortured. Inigo must find and rescue him. In desperation, he prays for guidance. He enlists God’s help in locating the man who can help him. But his prayer seems to go unanswered. He stumbles around in the woods, lost and defeated. Finally, he leans against an old tree–and in doing so, he triggers the secret door leading to the torture chamber where the man in black lies, left for dead.
The third miracle is one of revival and restoration. The man in black seems to be dead, so Inigo and his friend, Fezzik, take the body to a man named Miracle Max, to be brought back to life. Of course, this is a fairy tale (though a fractured one). We don’t expect to find miracle workers in the middle of a forest. But we often pray for miracles in hospital wards, courtrooms, and rescue shelters. God sends miracles– but he often does so through the skills and willingness of others. In this case, Miracle Max delivers a crushing blow– he does not have the power to bring someone back from the dead. However, the man is black is NOT dead; he is only “mostly” dead. Miracle Max concocts a restorative potion, delivered in a chocolate-coated pill. The man in black makes a halting, but timely, recovery, allowing Inigo to track down the evil Count and bring him to justice. (It also allows the man in black to finish his quest, rescue the Princess and defeat her wicked fiance.)
After three miracles, Inigo finishes his quest and faces a surprising new problem. His whole life has centered around revenge. Now that he has achieved his goal, he has no future; he has lost his sense of purpose. And this is where the “half” miracle happens. Inigo’s character is noble, even if his obsession with vengeance has been unhealthy. Along the way, he has befriended Fezzik, and rescued a man who was deemed to be an enemy. He has fought bravely and with honor, and has not been corrupted by money, power, or violence. His new friend, the man in black, offers him the chance to start over– as the Dread Pirate Roberts! (Lest this sound truly “dreadful”, it has already been explained that the name and reputation are what brings terror into the hearts of the other pirates..once again, this is a fairy tale, where pirates can be heroes.)
Inigo Montoya is a flawed character– he is a drunkard, a mercenary, living with years of failure and haunted by his thirst for revenge. He is not wicked in the same way as Count Rugen or the evil Prince Humperdink, but he is lost, confused, angry, bitter, and unable to save himself. He is a sympathetic character because he is a lot like many of us. But Inigo’s life is transformed by miracles– mostly unsought–giving him the opportunity to start a new life, make new friends, and explore new opportunities.
What unsought, and even unacknowledged, miracles have come into your life? How many times has God preserved your life, guided you in unexpected directions, provided healing or renewal to your physical, emotional, or spiritual being, and given you unexpected new opportunities?
God doesn’t always give us an instant or dramatic miracle– even when we pray for one. Sometimes, he allows us to collapse against a tree, or be scarred by our enemies, or spend twenty years chasing a quest only to find ourselves unfulfilled at the end of it.
Pursuing Prayer 