My recent post on what happens when I try to pray was written somewhat tongue-in-cheek. But I have been giving a lot of thought to the place of prayer in Christian life. A few years ago I bought a great little book by Ronald Dunn called "Don't Just Stand There, Pray Something", which I've been re-reading. As the title suggests, it's written in a very chatty style, but it's nevertheless thought-provoking and helpful.
I'm pondering the idea of writing my own series of articles on prayer - not so much the theology of prayer, but the practicalities of it. How do we, or should we, pray? How do we find time to pray? Why do some people seem better at praying than others? Rather than print the articles or post them on this blog I'm thinking of posting them to a separate blog and inviting people to subscribe. Watch this space!
I've recently discovered a wonderful source of inspiration and ideas at the Veritas Forum site. To quote the site itself "Veritas Forums are university events that engage students and faculty in discussions about life's hardest questions and the relevance of Jesus Christ to all of life." The site offers mp3 recordings of talks given at various (mainly US) universities, which can be downloaded. Some of the early recordings include audible chair scraping and door banging but the later recordings are high quality.
The wide variety of speakers includes well known writers and commentators such as Os Guiness, John Stott, Madeleine L'Engle, D. A Carson, Craig Blomberg, Tim Keller, Dallas Willard, Francis Collins and Ravi Zaccharias along with a host of others from all walks of life. The media page allows you to browse the talks by topic, speaker, date or location. Well worth a look.
29 April 2009
28 April 2009
The essence of prayer - trust and necessity
In order for prayer to be real, two things must be present - trust and necessity. I must trust the one to whom I'm praying, and I must have a genuine sense of need. This is true not just of intercessory prayer, but prayers of repentence and thanksgiving too.
Trust, in this context, is really just another name for faith. However, the word trust places the emphasis on the character of the person being prayed to, rather than the faith of the person praying. No amount of faith will help if the one to whom we're praying can't be trusted or is unreliable. I can't make my prayers more effective just by willing myself to have more faith.
Knowledge and experience of the trust-worthiness of God are what lead me to trust that he will respond to my prayers in the best possible way. At first I trust God because the Bible and the witness of the Holy Spirit assure me that he is faithful and loving. Over time my trust grows because I have experienced for myself that God is trustworthy. Prayer is not an all or nothing activity, but something that develops and changes.
The second essential for real prayer is an understanding and acceptance of our neediness, our reliance on God for everything. To pray 'Give us this day our daily bread' while counting on our own efforts is not true prayer. I'm not suggesting that no effort is required on our part to meet our needs. But we must understand that no amount of effort will supply our needs if God does not respond to our efforts by providing for us. Whether we're praying for food for today or the salvation of a whole city tomorrow, we must recognise that "unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labour in vain." (Ps 127.1) Prayer takes nothing for granted except God's goodness and generosity.
Trust, in this context, is really just another name for faith. However, the word trust places the emphasis on the character of the person being prayed to, rather than the faith of the person praying. No amount of faith will help if the one to whom we're praying can't be trusted or is unreliable. I can't make my prayers more effective just by willing myself to have more faith.
Knowledge and experience of the trust-worthiness of God are what lead me to trust that he will respond to my prayers in the best possible way. At first I trust God because the Bible and the witness of the Holy Spirit assure me that he is faithful and loving. Over time my trust grows because I have experienced for myself that God is trustworthy. Prayer is not an all or nothing activity, but something that develops and changes.
The second essential for real prayer is an understanding and acceptance of our neediness, our reliance on God for everything. To pray 'Give us this day our daily bread' while counting on our own efforts is not true prayer. I'm not suggesting that no effort is required on our part to meet our needs. But we must understand that no amount of effort will supply our needs if God does not respond to our efforts by providing for us. Whether we're praying for food for today or the salvation of a whole city tomorrow, we must recognise that "unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labour in vain." (Ps 127.1) Prayer takes nothing for granted except God's goodness and generosity.
What is prayer?
What is prayer? Or to be more specific, what is Christian prayer? Prayer is a feature of many religions, which suggests that human beings have an instinctive urge to pray. But this is a blog about Christian prayer, rather than the anthropology of prayer. So what are Christians doing when they pray?
First, lets say what prayer is not. Prayer is not magic. God does not give us prayer as the key that will open a wonderful box of treasures. Prayer is not effective because I say the right words, or go through some special ritual, mentally or physically. We often speak of 'the power of prayer', but we must be careful that we're using that phrase only as shorthand for 'the power that God reveals in answer to prayer.'
Nor is prayer like producing an IOU that puts God in the position of having to answer our requests. God has made certain promises about prayer, but they are there to inspire our confidence in praying to him, not tools to manipulate him.
Prayer earns us no merit with God. God does not count up the hours that we've spent in prayer and rank us as first, second or third grade Christians. The number and length of our prayers are not what is important. Some people are naturally talkative and expressive. Others maintain a loving relationship with God, as with their family and friends, in far fewer words.
So what is prayer? Prayer is communicating with God. I say 'communicating' rather than 'talking to God' because not all prayer needs to include words. Lovers can communicate a great deal without words. Nevertheless, lovers would not remain lovers for long if they never spoke a word to each other! Prayer is a two way communication between God and his beloved children.
These articles are mostly about intercessory prayer. When Jesus taught about prayer, it was usually intercessory prayer that he described - requests made to our Father for our own or others needs. Yet he never spoke about prayer without also speaking about the attitude of the heart that should lie behind our requests. That same attitude gives rise to, and underlies, worship, silent adoration, repentence, and thanksgiving. These too are forms of prayer.
First, lets say what prayer is not. Prayer is not magic. God does not give us prayer as the key that will open a wonderful box of treasures. Prayer is not effective because I say the right words, or go through some special ritual, mentally or physically. We often speak of 'the power of prayer', but we must be careful that we're using that phrase only as shorthand for 'the power that God reveals in answer to prayer.'
Nor is prayer like producing an IOU that puts God in the position of having to answer our requests. God has made certain promises about prayer, but they are there to inspire our confidence in praying to him, not tools to manipulate him.
Prayer earns us no merit with God. God does not count up the hours that we've spent in prayer and rank us as first, second or third grade Christians. The number and length of our prayers are not what is important. Some people are naturally talkative and expressive. Others maintain a loving relationship with God, as with their family and friends, in far fewer words.
So what is prayer? Prayer is communicating with God. I say 'communicating' rather than 'talking to God' because not all prayer needs to include words. Lovers can communicate a great deal without words. Nevertheless, lovers would not remain lovers for long if they never spoke a word to each other! Prayer is a two way communication between God and his beloved children.
These articles are mostly about intercessory prayer. When Jesus taught about prayer, it was usually intercessory prayer that he described - requests made to our Father for our own or others needs. Yet he never spoke about prayer without also speaking about the attitude of the heart that should lie behind our requests. That same attitude gives rise to, and underlies, worship, silent adoration, repentence, and thanksgiving. These too are forms of prayer.
27 April 2009
What do you hear when you read?
We're all aware that the meaning of a sentence in English can be altered by where we put the emphasis. Take the simple sentence "I like you". Depending on how it's said, it could mean "I like you, even if no-one else does," "I like you, but I don't love you" or "I like you, but not him". Unless we're given some clue from the context, we don't know in what sense the sentence is being used.
The meaning we read into a text can also be influenced by what we already know about the context. With dialogue, a lot will depend on what we know, or assume, about the speaker. I was thinking about this while reading Genesis 3 recently.
God says to Eve " “What is this that you have done?” (v 13). It's obviously a question, but how should we read it? What tone of voice does God take?
If we think of God as the cosmic policeman, we'll probably read it as if he's interrogating Eve, notebook and pencil in hand. If we think of God as the powerful king of the universe, we'll read it as a stern demand for an answer.
If we think of God as the good creator, we'll hear the tone of horror in his voice that any artist would express if he found his newly finished work vandalised. But if we picture God as a loving father, we'll hear the same anguish in his voice as a parent who has found their daughter almost unconscious with an empty pill bottle in her hand. What do you hear when you read it?
The meaning we read into a text can also be influenced by what we already know about the context. With dialogue, a lot will depend on what we know, or assume, about the speaker. I was thinking about this while reading Genesis 3 recently.
God says to Eve " “What is this that you have done?” (v 13). It's obviously a question, but how should we read it? What tone of voice does God take?
If we think of God as the cosmic policeman, we'll probably read it as if he's interrogating Eve, notebook and pencil in hand. If we think of God as the powerful king of the universe, we'll read it as a stern demand for an answer.
If we think of God as the good creator, we'll hear the tone of horror in his voice that any artist would express if he found his newly finished work vandalised. But if we picture God as a loving father, we'll hear the same anguish in his voice as a parent who has found their daughter almost unconscious with an empty pill bottle in her hand. What do you hear when you read it?
15 April 2009
Those nagging voices that stop me praying
When you pray, what resistance do you experience?
Recently I've begun to notice and analyse what inhibits me or even deters me from praying. I've become aware that when I sit down to pray, I immediately feel as if I'm answerable to all those people from past and present who have told me how I 'should' pray. It's almost as if the room becomes crowded with advisors and critics.
"So, you're here." says the first, "And about time too. I thought you said you were going to pray after breakfast, and now it's almost nine o'clock. May I remind you that you should pray first thing in the morning."
"Yes" says the second. "I also notice you didn't pray at all yesterday. Don't you know that as a mature Christian you should pray every day."
"I did pray, several times," I say. "I just didn't sit down to pray in a methodical way."
"Hhmph. Sounds like excuses to me" they say in unison.
"Well," says the third, "Aren't you going to confess your sins first. You can't just bowl up to God like that, without a bit of self-inspection first. And what about praise? Aren't you going to praise him?"
"Stop! You haven't read anything from scripture! Aren't you going to read scripture first?" says the first voice.
So I pick up my Bible and read for a while. As I'm reading, I remember a friend who is in trouble and start to pray for her.
"Hang on. You still haven't confessed your sins, or praised God yet" the voices cry.
"And what about praying for God's kingdom to come. What sort of Christian are you, that you don't have God's kingdom at the forefront of your mind?" That's the pastor of a church I used to attend.
"Yes, not to mention the church, and the missionaries you promised to pray for. You've got to get your priorities right." I recognise that 'voice' as belonging to the author of a certain book I read once.
And so it goes. I'd really love to talk to God about the things that are on my mind at the moment. But the list of things I 'ought' to pray about is thrust in front of me. If I try to answer back, I feel as if I'm making excuses for myself. The truth is, I don't pray for God's kingdom or the church or missionaries, or other peoples problems nearly enough. But part of the reason for that is that I just don't pray enough. The Accuser uses my inner critics to see to that.
Recently I've begun to notice and analyse what inhibits me or even deters me from praying. I've become aware that when I sit down to pray, I immediately feel as if I'm answerable to all those people from past and present who have told me how I 'should' pray. It's almost as if the room becomes crowded with advisors and critics.
"So, you're here." says the first, "And about time too. I thought you said you were going to pray after breakfast, and now it's almost nine o'clock. May I remind you that you should pray first thing in the morning."
"Yes" says the second. "I also notice you didn't pray at all yesterday. Don't you know that as a mature Christian you should pray every day."
"I did pray, several times," I say. "I just didn't sit down to pray in a methodical way."
"Hhmph. Sounds like excuses to me" they say in unison.
"Well," says the third, "Aren't you going to confess your sins first. You can't just bowl up to God like that, without a bit of self-inspection first. And what about praise? Aren't you going to praise him?"
"Stop! You haven't read anything from scripture! Aren't you going to read scripture first?" says the first voice.
So I pick up my Bible and read for a while. As I'm reading, I remember a friend who is in trouble and start to pray for her.
"Hang on. You still haven't confessed your sins, or praised God yet" the voices cry.
"And what about praying for God's kingdom to come. What sort of Christian are you, that you don't have God's kingdom at the forefront of your mind?" That's the pastor of a church I used to attend.
"Yes, not to mention the church, and the missionaries you promised to pray for. You've got to get your priorities right." I recognise that 'voice' as belonging to the author of a certain book I read once.
And so it goes. I'd really love to talk to God about the things that are on my mind at the moment. But the list of things I 'ought' to pray about is thrust in front of me. If I try to answer back, I feel as if I'm making excuses for myself. The truth is, I don't pray for God's kingdom or the church or missionaries, or other peoples problems nearly enough. But part of the reason for that is that I just don't pray enough. The Accuser uses my inner critics to see to that.
10 April 2009
Jesus our sacrifice - what does that mean?
In everyday language, a sacrifice is something precious or important to us which we give up for the sake of something more precious or important. We talk about people sacrificing their time on behalf of others. Soldiers sacrifice their lives for the sake of their country. Some people are able to "salary sacrifice", meaning that they give up part of their salary in order to obtain some other, greater benefit.
Sacrifice in the Old Testament had the same idea behind it. In a community in which wealth was measured in cattle, sheep and goats, a blemish-free male lamb or young bull was a most valuable commodity. It could potentially have become the nucleus of a new flock or herd. Instead it was offered up, sacrificed, to God. A great cost was involved to the person making the sacrifice.
Many cultures have had this idea of sacrificing, or offering up, something precious to the gods. Sacrifices were made in order to impress or appease the gods, and thus bring some benefit or avoid some consequence. Since human life was the most precious commodity of all, human sacrifice was often the ultimate, most terrible expression of this.
That is not to say that the Old Testament sacrificial system was just a continuation of the sacrifices of the surrounding cultures of the day. Yet in commanding a pattern of sacrifices God graciously used a system the Israelites were already familiar with. The sacrificial system provided a means by which they could express sincerity in their commitment to God, repent of their sin and obtain forgiveness.
Nor was personal cost the only element involved. But costliness was an important aspect of any sacrifice. The Israelites understood that bringing a blemished animal was not acceptable, since little or no personal sacrifice was involved in presenting such a beast to the priest for slaughter.
When we come to the New Testament, we find Jesus being described as the Lamb of God, who is the sacrifice for our sins. While there are many aspects to this, it at least includes the everyday meaning of sacrifice as involving a cost to the one making it. We might then ask "At the crucifixion, who sacrificed what, and to whom?"
Was it God who made the sacrifice? In one sense, yes. He gave up his own, beloved son, the most precious offering he could make. But to whom? To Satan? To human beings? How could God, the sovereign creator of the universe, feel the need to offer anything to anyone, least of all to any of his creatures? Ultimately we can say that God offered a sacrifice to himself, no matter how strange that seems.
Did Jesus sacrifice himself? He certainly gave up his glory in heaven to become human, and then laid down his own sinless life. He offered himself to God in order to obtain a benefit, not for himself, but for the whole of humanity.
Could it be that we sacrificed Jesus? This is an aspect of Jesus' death that I've only recently begun to think about. Would it be true to say that God provided us, humanity, with a perfect, blemish-free "lamb", which we then sacrificed to him? The story of Abraham, Isaac, and the ram caught in the thicket comes to mind. God provided the sacrifice, but it was Abraham who offered it up.
Jesus words as they crucified him, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing" could be understood to include not just those hammering the nails into his hands, not just those who ordered his death, but the whole of humanity. He is our collective sacrifice, even for those who do not comprehend who he was.
Those who enacted the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross didn't understand what they were doing. Caiaphas, John tells us, prophetically declared that it was fitting that one man should die on behalf of the people, but he didn't understand the full import of what he said. The majority of human beings then and since have been unaware that a sacrifice has been made.
Yet if humanity, fearing the wrath of a holy God, was looking for a sacrifice to end all sacrifices, where would we look? We could try mass slaughter - maybe God would be satisfied with thousands or even millions of deaths. Human beings have commonly offered the slaughter of their enemies to their gods. Yet our enemies' deaths cost us nothing. To be a true sacrifice, we must offer up something precious that we'd rather hold on to.
Jesus stands as the most perfect human being who has ever lived, innocent of all blame. He appears in the gospels as one who was winsome as well as wise, tenderhearted as well as authoritative. Those who knew him and followed him had no desire to lose him or see him die.
Those who know him now surely feel a similar hesitancy, a reluctance, in reading about what was done to him and about his death, even though we understand why it was necessary. This is not the reluctance of those who deny him, but a reluctance born out of identifying him and loving him as the one true, perfect and precious human being. Faith, to some extent, involves recognising Jesus as the only one worthy of being sacrificed by us, for us.
I found myself thinking more about this idea of humanity collectively sacrificing Jesus whilst reading about St Patrick's mission to Ireland. His gospel work there was amazingly successful, due in part to the fact that the Irish of the time knew all about human sacrifice. They had no difficulty comprehending the idea that Jesus was the perfect human sacrifice. They were amazed and delighted to hear that God had himself provided all that was needed to appease his own wrath. The sacrifice had been made, and no further sacrifices were necessary.*
We find it more difficult to understand this, not just because we no longer practise human sacrifice, but also because we are not used to thinking collectively. Our attitude is commonly "I was not there, I was not involved and so I'm not responsible". (Just think of the controversy surrounding the Australian government saying "Sorry" for past injustices to Aboriginal people.)
Faith involves, amongst other things, recognising and claiming our own part in Jesus death. Not just our part in the sin of humanity which made his death necessary, but our part in offering him up to God as our sinless, priceless sacrifice. Would it not be true to say that each of us, at conversion, in effect says to God "I'm a sinner - but please, accept Jesus as my offering and so forgive me". We audaciously claim him as our own and then offer him back to God.
*I owe much to Thomas Cahill's book "How the Irish Saved Civilization", especially his chapter on Patrick's mission.
Sacrifice in the Old Testament had the same idea behind it. In a community in which wealth was measured in cattle, sheep and goats, a blemish-free male lamb or young bull was a most valuable commodity. It could potentially have become the nucleus of a new flock or herd. Instead it was offered up, sacrificed, to God. A great cost was involved to the person making the sacrifice.
Many cultures have had this idea of sacrificing, or offering up, something precious to the gods. Sacrifices were made in order to impress or appease the gods, and thus bring some benefit or avoid some consequence. Since human life was the most precious commodity of all, human sacrifice was often the ultimate, most terrible expression of this.
That is not to say that the Old Testament sacrificial system was just a continuation of the sacrifices of the surrounding cultures of the day. Yet in commanding a pattern of sacrifices God graciously used a system the Israelites were already familiar with. The sacrificial system provided a means by which they could express sincerity in their commitment to God, repent of their sin and obtain forgiveness.
Nor was personal cost the only element involved. But costliness was an important aspect of any sacrifice. The Israelites understood that bringing a blemished animal was not acceptable, since little or no personal sacrifice was involved in presenting such a beast to the priest for slaughter.
When we come to the New Testament, we find Jesus being described as the Lamb of God, who is the sacrifice for our sins. While there are many aspects to this, it at least includes the everyday meaning of sacrifice as involving a cost to the one making it. We might then ask "At the crucifixion, who sacrificed what, and to whom?"
Was it God who made the sacrifice? In one sense, yes. He gave up his own, beloved son, the most precious offering he could make. But to whom? To Satan? To human beings? How could God, the sovereign creator of the universe, feel the need to offer anything to anyone, least of all to any of his creatures? Ultimately we can say that God offered a sacrifice to himself, no matter how strange that seems.
Did Jesus sacrifice himself? He certainly gave up his glory in heaven to become human, and then laid down his own sinless life. He offered himself to God in order to obtain a benefit, not for himself, but for the whole of humanity.
Could it be that we sacrificed Jesus? This is an aspect of Jesus' death that I've only recently begun to think about. Would it be true to say that God provided us, humanity, with a perfect, blemish-free "lamb", which we then sacrificed to him? The story of Abraham, Isaac, and the ram caught in the thicket comes to mind. God provided the sacrifice, but it was Abraham who offered it up.
Jesus words as they crucified him, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing" could be understood to include not just those hammering the nails into his hands, not just those who ordered his death, but the whole of humanity. He is our collective sacrifice, even for those who do not comprehend who he was.
Those who enacted the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross didn't understand what they were doing. Caiaphas, John tells us, prophetically declared that it was fitting that one man should die on behalf of the people, but he didn't understand the full import of what he said. The majority of human beings then and since have been unaware that a sacrifice has been made.
Yet if humanity, fearing the wrath of a holy God, was looking for a sacrifice to end all sacrifices, where would we look? We could try mass slaughter - maybe God would be satisfied with thousands or even millions of deaths. Human beings have commonly offered the slaughter of their enemies to their gods. Yet our enemies' deaths cost us nothing. To be a true sacrifice, we must offer up something precious that we'd rather hold on to.
Jesus stands as the most perfect human being who has ever lived, innocent of all blame. He appears in the gospels as one who was winsome as well as wise, tenderhearted as well as authoritative. Those who knew him and followed him had no desire to lose him or see him die.
Those who know him now surely feel a similar hesitancy, a reluctance, in reading about what was done to him and about his death, even though we understand why it was necessary. This is not the reluctance of those who deny him, but a reluctance born out of identifying him and loving him as the one true, perfect and precious human being. Faith, to some extent, involves recognising Jesus as the only one worthy of being sacrificed by us, for us.
I found myself thinking more about this idea of humanity collectively sacrificing Jesus whilst reading about St Patrick's mission to Ireland. His gospel work there was amazingly successful, due in part to the fact that the Irish of the time knew all about human sacrifice. They had no difficulty comprehending the idea that Jesus was the perfect human sacrifice. They were amazed and delighted to hear that God had himself provided all that was needed to appease his own wrath. The sacrifice had been made, and no further sacrifices were necessary.*
We find it more difficult to understand this, not just because we no longer practise human sacrifice, but also because we are not used to thinking collectively. Our attitude is commonly "I was not there, I was not involved and so I'm not responsible". (Just think of the controversy surrounding the Australian government saying "Sorry" for past injustices to Aboriginal people.)
Faith involves, amongst other things, recognising and claiming our own part in Jesus death. Not just our part in the sin of humanity which made his death necessary, but our part in offering him up to God as our sinless, priceless sacrifice. Would it not be true to say that each of us, at conversion, in effect says to God "I'm a sinner - but please, accept Jesus as my offering and so forgive me". We audaciously claim him as our own and then offer him back to God.
*I owe much to Thomas Cahill's book "How the Irish Saved Civilization", especially his chapter on Patrick's mission.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)