Why does prayer seem inadequate?

You're talking to a friend, catching up and asking them how things are going. Or maybe you're texting, and ask "What's up?" and instead of following the social contract and saying "Nothing" or "Everything's going fine, how have you been?" they actually tell you what's going on.  What do you even say to that?  This is your friend, you want everything to be fine, you want to say something profound that will actually help them, or at least make them feel better.  You think and think but you're coming up blank; your phone just went back to sleep and you realize that if you don't say something soon it will be awkward when you do.  So you just say "I'll be praying for you."

Everyone probably has a story like that, and if we believe that there is power in prayer then praying for someone should be a big deal.  So why do we feel so lame when that's the only thing we can say?

The problem isn't with prayer, there's nothing wrong with responding to a situation over which you have no control by communing with the creator of the universe.  But when you say that you'll pray for someone, do you really pray for them?

I'm just as guilty of this as anyone, it's easy to throw out a quick "I'll pray for you" and make a mental note to lift up their need during that quiet time that never seems to actually happen.  And when you do pray, sometimes it's a quick "Btw, please help so-and-so while he/she's going through a hard time."  Prayer has power because the one to whom we pray has power; if you're going to have a conversation with the creator of the universe then treat it as such.

If someone is important to you, make time for them.  This one goes both ways, because if your friend is important to you then praying for them should be too, but you're also making time for God.  Not only should we make time to pray for our friends' sake, but we should respect God's sovereignty - after all, no one poked their head into a king's throne room and said "Oh, hey, my brother's in jail, do you think you could release him?" and then left before getting a response.  We don't often get that instant gratification of a prayer answered the way we want, when we want, but that doesn't mean that we shouldn't seek an answer from God.  It's a conversation; when I know a friend has a problem I'm content to let them fill the conversation, but when they're asking me a question (or a favor!) I appreciate it when they seem genuinely interested in my response.  How much more important is it to seek a response from God, who can actually help?

Why does prayer sometimes seem like an empty response to our friends' pain and tragedy?  Maybe it's because sometimes our prayers are empty.  Me mumbling with my eyes closed has absolutely no power to help anyone, but if I can fill that prayer with God then there is power in abundance.

I'm as guilty of this as anyone, so pray for me, I'll be praying for you.

Scars

I was listening to the Mumford and Sons song (yes, they've sparked another blog post) "Not With Haste" when I heard the line "We will be who we are, and they'll heal our scars, sadness will be far away."

I've always thought of scars as having been healed, albeit imperfectly.  But they're not, some scars still hurt, and even the ones that don't leave a visual reminder of the events and the pain that caused them.  Looking at my hands now I have scars from playing touch football in a parking lot (I missed), playing soccer (missed again), crashing my bicycle, accidentally cutting myself with a pocket knife, a surprise attack from my brother etc.  I think we can lay to rest the mystery of why I don't get into sports.

I hate to wax cheesy (unless it's punny), but we carry emotional scars as well.  It has struck me lately how many things in my life or past have been stained by sin.  I'm not even talking about things that are blatantly sinful, but innocuous things that remind me of sin in my past.  I carry these memories, these scars, and no matter how close my walk with God is now, or how much closer it will be, I can't erase or forget my sinful past.

But my Jesus can.  He has already forgiven me my sins.  I've been catching up on some of Jon Acuff's blog, and he said in one post that God doesn't do "better".  He doesn't improve us.  God's business is "new", he makes us a new creation, and He will give us a new song to sing.

One day, when this sinful world goes away, I won't have to carry my scars anymore.  I'll be a new creation, and as the song goes on, "We will run and scream, you will dance with me, fulfill our dreams and we'll be free."

Photo by Kevin O'Mara

Biblical Myths Ep. 3: Suicide - Unforgivable?

     The third biblical myth that I want to look at in this post is the idea that suicide is the unforgivable sin.  I have no idea where this urban legend came from, but it simply doesn't hold up to any biblical study.

Christ died to save us from all of our sins, to do something that we did not and do not have the power to do for ourselves.  The only action required on our part is to accept that salvation; to admit that we are sinners who do not have the ability or power to save ourselves, sinners who need what Jesus has already done.  Salvation isn't something that Jesus will do for us when we accept Him, it was done almost two thousand years ago on the cross, but it only applies to those who will believe in Jesus' promise by faith.

Why would Jesus endure what he did only to exclude someone who kills themselves from the promise?  I think this myth probably arose from two factors.

1. In Catholic belief you must constantly ask for forgiveness to maintain your salvation.  Killing oneself is certainly a sin, but by its nature is not one for which you can confess to a priest afterwards.  As a result, you die with a mortal sin on your ledger.
2. The Bible does mention an unforgivable or unpardonable sin - but it isn't suicide

To respond to the first point, Jesus' death on the cross was a single act fixed in time.  It was an act of love, an act of redemption, and an act of forgiveness.  He doesn't repeat this act of forgiveness every time one of His children sins, so why would we need to seek His forgiveness every time to maintain our salvation?  Like I said above, when you accept Jesus' forgiveness you are forgiven of all your sins, past present and future.  Repentance should be the result of that forgiveness, and your sin should remind you of what God has done for you and why you need the savior, but those are the fruits of your salvation, not the cause of it.

The unforgivable sin that Jesus mentions is found in Matthew 12:22-32.  Jesus states that every sin will be forgiven - even blasphemy against himself.  But what will not be forgiven is blasphemy against the Holy Spirit.     This comes after saying in verse 30 "Whoever is not with me is against me", which tells me that blasphemy against the Holy Spirit happens when someone denies the gospel of Jesus Christ.  I asked the question earlier why would Jesus die for our sins only to exclude one sin.  Well the answer is tied up in the way to salvation; if accepting the salvation that Jesus offers is the only way to be forgiven from your sins, then it makes sense that the only sin that cannot be forgiven is to reject that salvation.

So while I'm not saying you have a free license to commit suicide, many of us - myself included - have loved ones who have committed suicide, and you can at least be confident that their final sin was not unforgivable.

Man of the House

     When I was a kid my dad was in the Marines, and I remember one time when he was leaving to go overseas he told me that I was the man of the house.  Like a lot of kids I took something that was probably just an off hand comment to heart and it has stuck with me.

     When Jesus left earth, he left behind instructions to His followers, much like a father would before leaving his family.  Jesus may not be truly gone from the lives of believers, but he has neither called for his bride nor taken possession of His earthly kingdom yet; in a way it's like he has gone on a trip and told us "You're the man of the house". While He is still the authority and we can still communicate with Him, He expects us to be good stewards by running His house the way He instructed us to run it.

Love

My favorite band these days is Mumford & Sons - don't worry, you don't need to be a fan to read this post. I've been listening to their new album a lot, but one of my favorite lines comes from their previous album.

     In the song After the Storm it says "There will come a time you'll see, with no more tears; and love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears."

     I didn't think much of it the first time I heard that; I rarely ever listen to lyrics anyway.  But the more I thought about that line, the more it rang true.  Because love really does break our hearts.  Every crush you've had, every failed romance, every falling out with a loved one, they all hurt because of our love.  But more than that.  As Christians, we love many who are lost, who have not accepted Jesus' sacrifice, and we know what awaits them if that doesn't change.  And it breaks our hearts.  That wasn't how love was meant to be, it's not how our creator made it.  Even love was tarnished by sin.
     But one day, my savior will redeem us.  He will make us whole and holy, and Love will be restored again to its pure and righteous form.

There will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears; and love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.

Run The Race

     Throughout various Bible studies, small groups, Sunday school groups, and sermons, it seems that lately I have kept hearing about "running the race".  So I've done a little digging, and while I'll admit nothing I'm posting here is new or particularly enlightened, this message is for someone, someone who needs to hear it.

     Several books in the Bible (all possibly written by Paul) refer to "the race" as an analogy to our Christian lives.  This is a distinctly New Testament analogy because it refers to Greek foot races such as we see in the Olympics.  Because we know that it refers to Greek races, we can make some connections that Paul (and possibly another author in the case of Hebrews) expected his Greek-educated audience to know.

     In the original Olympic games, runners had to train for their events just as any modern athlete would.  Before competing in the games, they had to vow before a statue of Zeus that they had been in training for ten months.  They then ran a race that varied in length depending on the time period, with the winner being crowned with a laurel wreath.  This was their chief prize, the branch of an olive tree.
     There's an interesting story from Herodotus about the Battle of Thermopylae (the battle shown in the movie 300).  The story goes that when Xerxes questioned one of the Arcadian soldiers about why so few Greek men had shown up to fight, the soldier replied that they were competing in the Olympic games.  Xerxes, presumably curious why the games took precedence over a battle, asked what the prize was for the victor, to which the soldier answered that they received an olive wreath.  One of Xerxes' generals then said, "What kind of men are these against whom you have brought us to fight? Men who do not compete for possessions, but for honor" (Herodotus, The Histories).

     Whether or not the story is true, I don't know; Herodotus wasn't the most vigilant fact-checker.  But the idea is there, that for ten months these Greek athletes train to run a race against men from every city-state of Greece, and all for a branch of olive that would wither and die.  1 Corinthians 9:24-25 refers to this when it says: 

"Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable."

     We are all running a race, and like every athlete we must exercise self-control in all things.  But it is all the more important for us to train for this race and to run as though we are trying to win a prize, because while the ancient Greek athletes did all of this for a temporary crown that would dry up and crumble, we receive an everlasting crown.

     In Hebrews we are told to cast off all of our sins, everything that weighs us down in this race so that we may run with endurance.  But for our prize, we are told to look towards Jesus, who waits for us at the end of our race, who has already purchased our prize.

    Will the race be easy?  Of course not.  But the prize is worth running for.  Just as for the Greeks in Herodotus' story, they gain no valuable possessions, but they gain honor.  We gain honor by running our race faithfully, by casting off our weights and running with endurance.  Jesus ran his own race on earth, did you know that?  In Hebrews 12:2 it says that "for the joy that was set before him [he] endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God."  He ran the race in spite of hardship; it says he despised the shame, the Greek word used for despising means that he thought little of it.  He had a joy to look forward to, one that was set before him, just as Hebrews says that our race is set before us.  We don't choose our race, it is one hand picked for us by God.

     So what do we run for?  Hebrews says that to run with endurance, as Jesus did, we must look to Jesus Himself.  In 2 Timothy Paul says that he has run his race, his death is near but he has a satisfaction and a peace about how he ran his race, how he lived.  Because of this, he is ready to receive his prize, in verses 4:7-8 Paul says: "I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  Henceforth there is laid up for me the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing."

    In a race, all the runners run, but only one receives the prize.  But in our race, all who have loved, all who have delighted in Jesus will receive an everlasting, never fading crown of righteousness.  We, who would have no hope of running the race without Him.  We who stumble, and fall, and doubt, and sin, and give up.  We who don't train as we should and therefore do not possess the endurance necessary.  When we finish our race, Jesus will gift us, us, with a crown of righteousness.  

So run the race.  Look to Jesus, and run.

Biblical Myths Ep. 2: Two by Two

Ask any child, and most adults, how many animals Noah took on the Ark and they'll answer "Two of each kind!"

WRONG