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On September 22, 2023 By In Culture

Praying in the Dark

Photo courtesy pexels.com

How many times have you faced an overwhelming and seemingly hopeless scenario, only to look back later and recognize the kind (though difficult) providence of God at work in that situation? Most of us have probably had moments in our lives that we imagined we could not endure, when despair had a death grip on our hearts, when sorrow and fear seemed certain to drown us. But God. The Lord is rich in mercy, and he promises to work all things together for the good of those who love him (Rom. 8:28), but that sovereign good does not always appear dramatically. In fact, sometimes we may miss it entirely. God is there, but as in the book of Esther, he stands hidden amid the shadows. Somehow we survive. Somehow we begin to breathe again and move on. We did not perceive the moment of rescue. We cannot put our finger on a sudden deliverance. We simply came to the moment of defeat and despair, and then the moment passed, and we were still alive.

When did you look back and realize you had survived? Was it the next time you faced an unwinnable trial or unendurable adversity? Did you think back to the last time you were in a similar situation and only then reflect on the fact that God had brought you safely through it, even though you took little notice at the time?

I was reflecting on this recently while lying awake worrying and praying in the middle of the night. It was almost a moment of deja vu, but this wasn’t a glitch in the Matrix. I realized I had prayed to the Lord in the midst of similar anguished anxiety, many times before, and often in the middle of the night. You’ve probably been there too. “It’s me again, Lord. I’m worried about something, and I’m not sure you can fix this one.” Because this new worry is so different from all those that came before, right? We are justified in our sin of unbelief because the Lord has only delivered us 7,327 times, and everyone knows it is the 7,328th that is the really hard one.

If we are lying awake at night praying in bed, it’s probably not because we are praying the psalms. Sometimes we may do that too, but more often those middle of the night prayers are both prompted and dominated by the worry and fear from which Christ’s victory and sovereign rule have set us free. But there we are again, doubting his ability to rescue us, returning to the slavery of fear that is so familiar to us because we wore its chain so long. Anxious prayer usually centers on my worries, fears, and concerns. Even if they are not about me, per se, but my wife, my children, my family, or brethren, those prayers still focus, in large part if not in whole, on the immediate crisis that drove sleep away and compelled fervent prayer.

There was a man in the first church I pastored who related to me the story of when he first spent an entire night in prayer. He had never attempted or thought to do so until his young daughter was injured and taken to the hospital where doctors worked to save her life. Her father found it easy to stay awake and pray all that night.

Personal prayers in times of crisis are good and appropriate, a means of grace for battling doubt and fear. It is right that we pray earnestly, even if fearfully, because even when we are sinfully anxious, praying about it is an act of obedience to God. Such prayer confesses that I am a sinner who cannot cope with or carry this burden of sorrow. I cannot withstand the temptation to doubt in such cases, so we pray, “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief!”

Our prayers in the midst of crisis are important, but they ought to arise within the larger context of a life devoted to prayer. If the only time we pray is when we are fearful, we will find our prayers weak, and we may discover little comfort in them. This is when we open the Psalter, retrieving lines from our memories if praying in a dark bedroom, or stumbling downstairs and opening the prayer book of King Jesus, reading, singing, and praying God’s word and promises back to him. Suddenly we discover that our fears and trials are nothing new. No temptation has overtaken you except such as in common to man. God’s people have been here before, and we are praying with them. It is not only my children who need God’s gracious intervention; it is God’s children in India, Eritrea, North Korea, Sudan, and Canada. I am neither the first nor the last nor the only one at this present time who faces a seemingly unbearable situation. I am praying with the saints throughout the world. We are interceding for each other: I for them, and they for me, even if we have never met and do not know each other’s names.

These prayers in private crisis grow out of lives of ordinary, everyday prayer. Morning and evening sacrifices of praise and thanksgiving, confession and intercession, supplication and meditation on God’s word, works, and wonder. On the Lord’s Day God summons his people to worship in order that he might bless us. Together the Church offers her prayers to the Father in the Name of the Son with the help of the Holy Spirit. God knows the needs of every individual. He heard your prayers at midnight and the deep and unutterable cries within your heart even now. But now we are not praying alone in our bed or closet. The Church has gathered and entered the Holy Place. Together with one voice we cry: “Lord, hear our prayer!” And he does. And he will. Not just our prayers on Sunday. Not just our prayers at the family dinner table. Not just our prayers in the middle of the night. Our faithful God hears all of them, and accepts them, not because we are righteous in ourselves. We are the doubters and unbelievers who imagine this hardship will be different. Maybe the Lord won’t show up this time around. But he always has. He always will. He is patient with us, even though we are often impatient with him.

It takes faith to see God’s faithfulness in our lives, and perhaps that is why we so often fail to perceive it. The same lack of faith that fills us with fear and despair in crisis makes us unable to recognize the quiet but powerful providence that has delivered us time and time again. Those prayers in the middle of the night are a means of grace. They change the world and events in our lives, to be sure, but they change us most of all. Someone once said we cannot pray one way and live another for very long. So as we confess our fears and doubts and beg God for mercy once again, his Spirit strengthens us, enabling us to see the past providence that we had overlooked or forgotten and assuring us that the Lord will be near us this time as well. I will never leave you nor forsake you. This is God’s promise, so we can continue to pray with boldness, even in the midst of anxiety, and be confident that he will hear and, once again, come to bless us.

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On April 29, 2020 By In Counseling/Piety, Theology

A Song for the Day of Trouble (part 2)

The same Spirit hovering over the waters at creation breathing life into the world a is the same Spirit who will at times trouble the waters of our soul so that we continually seek the Living Water. “And the Lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters do not fail.” b  The same Spirit bringing the Word of Life into our hearts c is the same Spirit by which we can cry out, “Abba, Father!” in our hour of need. d As we move into the second part of the psalm, we are going to see what it is we really need when trouble comes and how the Lord provides.

Troubled times lead us to seek a particular salvation.

“In the night my hand is stretched out without wearying; my soul refuses to be comforted. When I remember God, I moan; when I meditate, my spirit faints.”

Psalm 77:2-3

When we think of nighttime, the picture we often get is one of resting from the labors and activities of the day. We think of laying our head down on our soft pillow and slipping off into sleep like the sun slowly settling beneath the horizon. Night should be a time of peace and rest. But it is not so for Asaph.

In the midst of troubles, the night brings him neither rest nor comfort. You can lay down at night with a weary body but a soul at rest and enjoy good sleep. But to go to bed with a weary soul often results in a restlessness of body. Here, either the troubles Asaph is experiencing make it impossible to sleep or he will not allow his body rest until his soul is also at rest. His soul is weary and worn, so his hand stretches out in help to God and he will not let it fall until he finds it. His body will not be at peace until his soul is at peace. He is not concerned about having sleepless nights. If this was his problem, then any sleep trick will do. Anyone who has experienced those first few weeks or months with a newborn baby knows to what lengths one will go to get some sleep. Asaph is concerned with knowing real peace and his soul refuses to be satisfied with anything less. 

This is the deficiency of our therapeutic age. Even if we correctly diagnose the problem, we are far too easily satisfied with the cure. We settle for numbing the pain rather than healing the wound. We mask the symptoms so we can hide the disease. We trade a birthright tomorrow for a bowl of stew today. e  

But Asaph isn’t trying to escape the presence of trouble and all that comes with it; he is seeking to find comfort in the presence of the Almighty. He knows what St. Augustine would come to understand and pray centuries later, “Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.”

We often seek comfort by forgetting. We try to find peace by escaping reality, not contemplating it. Think of all the things we do to check out of life for a little while. Whether it’s alcohol or binge watching or working out, we can all very easily fall into the trap of self-medicating in order to forget the worries and cares. Asaph does not seek comfort in distraction but meditation. He intentionally directs his thoughts to God. But, surprisingly, when Asaph contemplates God, that meditation initially brings more sorrow and weakness to his heart and soul. 

Why would meditating on God cause his spirit to faint? Doesn’t Scripture promise that “they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint”? f He grieves in his spirit because the greatest delight and comfort of the Christian is to have the favor of God. For the child of God, the greatness of our salvation is not what we have been redeemed from but the Father we have been saved to. What sweeter blessing can we receive than that the Lord make His face to shine upon us, lift up His countenance to us, and give us peace? g

But days of trouble can set a cloud over that glory. We do not sense his favor. We do not feel the warmth of his presence. “Darkness hides his lovely face,” as the hymn puts it. h Remembering the goodness and favor and blessing of God in the past makes the present darkness all the more dark. Only those who have been to the summit of Everest can fully appreciate standing at the base of that mountain looking up into the clouds to a peak that cannot even be seen. But those are also the people who will not settle for anything less. Which means they must face the struggle; they must not shut their eyes, but look through the trouble until they see clearly once again.  

“You hold my eyelids open; I am so troubled that I cannot speak. I consider the days of old, the years long ago. I said, ‘Let me remember my song in the night; let me meditate in my heart.’ Then my spirit made a diligent search:”

Psalm 77:4-9

It is the Lord’s gracious hand that keeps Asaph’s eyes open and brings him to this point. The psalmist who cries out to the Lord in verse 1 now has no more words to speak. He moves from crying out in the day of trouble to now considering the days of old. His eyes gaze from the present to the past. First he looks up then he looks back. And in looking back he begins to rise above the waves that would threaten to drown him in despair.

Thus far in this song, Asaph has been the reference point. There are plenty of personal pronouns in the first two stanzas. Some commentators are critical of this. They see the psalmist self-absorbed in his trouble. That could be the case. If not true for Asaph, then at least true in my own experience. 

But I think Asaph starts where he does because this is a song for real people in the midst of real struggles learning to navigate real life.  The Apostle Paul exhorts us to be ready to give a reason for the hope that is within us. i That hope is not a gnostic experience. It is often forged in the fires of particular trouble and polished in the daily rub of relationships. Personal pronouns matter a great deal.

So, from crying out to the Lord to discouraged moans about the Lord to exhausted silence, Asaph finally speaks to himself. Refusing superficial sleep, he directs his mind and heart to remember his song. We will consider this song in the third and final part.

  1. Genesis 1:2  (back)
  2. Isaiah 58:11  (back)
  3. Deuteronomy 8:3; Hebrews 10:16  (back)
  4. Romans 8:15  (back)
  5. Genesis 25  (back)
  6. Isaiah 40:31  (back)
  7. Numbers 6:24-26  (back)
  8. Mote, Edward (1834). My Hope is Built on Nothing Less  (back)
  9. 1 Peter 3:15  (back)

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On April 27, 2020 By In Counseling/Piety, Theology, Wisdom

A Song for the Day of Trouble (part 1)

Troublesome times are a great constrictor of the soul. They squeeze with a kind of pressure that exposes what is within us. During a crisis of the magnitude and scope we are experiencing now, the responses of the people provide an honest look into the heart and soul of a culture.  Naturally, you will always have the deniers, the doomsayers, the opportunists, and a variety of other characters on the stage. But who will we be in the day of trouble?  

In Psalm 77, we find a genuine, honest dealing with life when the day of trouble comes. We find not only one man’s experience and expression, but a wonderful gift given by God to his people throughout all times and in all places about how to deal honestly with the realities of life when trials invade our lives, our families, our churches, or our communities. 

Many of us are familiar with what the worldly virtue of self-expression looks like. It is often raw and untamed. It flows like a water hose through social media, song lyrics, t-shirts, and even casual conversations. As the trouble increases so does the force and volume of its flow. 

In contrast, the Psalms are a mighty river channeled between the shores. Honest expression and real emotions are governed by the solid, immovable truths of glory and grace.  Whether rushing swiftly over jagged rocks or flowing as quiet waters, these divine songs always bring us to see life clearly…as it truly is, as it is meant to be, as it is going to be for the people of the cross. How we express ourselves in these troubled times will either muddy the waters of reality or it will bring clarity, both for us and the watching world. 

As we step inside Asaph’s world and walk with him in his day of trouble, we also are learning how to walk. As the Lord Himself invites his people to sing this song, we are learning how to dance when the music of life plays the minor key. 

Troubled times lead us to seek a particular Savior. 

“In the day of my trouble, I seek the Lord.” (v.2) 

When trouble comes, Asaph’s eyes look heavenward. This response seems so obvious to us, so much so that we probably don’t take the time to ask the question, “Why does he seek the Lord in the day of trouble?”  It’s a question that appears too simple to even warrant consideration, but consideration is exactly what’s needed. 

The psalmist recognizes that only the Lord can deliver him out of his troubles. So it’s to the Lord he runs. We don’t know what these troubles are or the context of the situation. It really doesn’t matter. It is enough to know that Asaph is a man in trouble. He is not simply troubled by things he sees or knows; he calls it “my trouble.”  And how he responds to those personal troubles reveals something about his own heart and the heart of the One to whom he seeks. Life squeezes, circumstances overwhelm, and the psalmist responds almost instinctively in a particular way.

Have you ever been in danger of drowning or seen someone else struggling to keep themselves afloat? I’ve never literally been in that situation, although years ago I did have to jump into a pool fully clothed to help one of my sons who had ventured too far into the deep end. It was a bit scary at the time and I ruined a good phone and my favorite pair of shoes. But I most certainly know the feeling of drowning under the pressures of life. I know that in those moments of physical or emotional drowning, the temptation is to look for anything that might hold out the slightest hope of rescue.

Asaph is not a drowning man thrashing and clawing for whatever he can find to hold on to. When trouble rushes in, his eyes are not frantically searching for relief and deliverance. The reason something like a microscopic parasite can throw the world into hysteria and confusion is because every individual and every nation responds according to how they answer two basic questions: What do they want? What is getting in the way of what they want? The ditches of history are strewn with a long line of saviors and scapegoats. 

Asaph’s eyes are drawn to a certain Deliverer and a particular salvation. He does not seek a convenient savior; he seeks the consummate Savior. There is a world of difference between the two. He resonates such glorious truths as Zephaniah 3:17, “The LORD is in your midst, a mighty one who will save;” and Psalm 121, “I lift up my eyes to the hills, from where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.”

Troubled times lead us to a particular response.

I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, and he will hear me. (v.1)

How the psalmist seeks the Lord is also telling. He cries aloud to God. He gives voice to his troubles. He brings them out into the open. He does not keep them shut up, nor does he silently endure. He shapes these troubles into tangible, spoken words. Obviously, the all-knowing, all-wise God does not need such audible expressions. He is “a very present help in trouble.” a But Asaph’s cries remind us of some important things to keep in mind when our day of trouble comes. 

God does not need us to put words to our suffering, but neither does He discourage His children from doing so. We do not have to silently endure. We do not have to stoically wait upon Him. To cry out in pain and anguish and deep trouble is not a sign of weak faith. Jesus Himself gave voice to His anguish in the garden. Rather, our cries become a lament of the whole person. The soul is troubled and the body gives expression to it. Body and soul, Asaph seeks the Lord because body and soul the Lord created him.  

Not only does this expression show us something of the relationship between Asaph and the Lord, but it also indicates that this is not a private lament; it is not merely a personal trial. Giving voice to our need brings our burdens into the midst of the congregation. It brings our dependence upon God into the light of community. To be united together as the body of Christ means that there are no private troubles. b We sing these songs together as a vivid reminder of this reality. 

In the next part, we will look at the particular salvation Asaph seeks and how he finds comfort in the midst of trouble. Hopefully, we will gain some practical wisdom from the way he goes about moving from being restless to being at rest. For now, let us learn and imitate these songs so that when our waters are troubled, we can give honest expression to the depth and breadth of our suffering without violating the established boundaries of our relationship to Christ and His church.  The depth and breadth of His glory and grace is greater. While the world looks around pointing fingers and grasping for answers, the church should be singing. Not in obliviousness like Nero fiddling while Rome burns, but harmoniously and honestly lifting up our eyes and voices in hope for ourselves and the nations.

  1. Psalm 46:1  (back)
  2. 1 Corinthians 12:21-26  (back)

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On April 25, 2020 By In Culture

Toward A Fruitful Solitude

Disrupted Community

Of the essence of the Christian faith is communion – we are not a collection of individuals, but a Body, a people – we are saved in community, saved into the Church. We are “living stones” in the spiritual house of God (1 Pet. 2:5), various members of the one Body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:12ff.) Humanity is created in community, and redeemed in community.

And yet, here we are in the time of the virus, most of us cut off from our normal in-person social lives, and many churches not gathering as normal for public worship. Our public response to the Coronavirus pandemic has driven us apart from one another, cloistering into our homes. Our response to the virus has health effects (positive, we hope) and dire economic effects, but also a significant sociological impact. We cannot live healthy human lives, let alone healthy Christian lives, alone for long. a

And yet, in our focus on the corporate life of the people of God, we must not neglect the call to a personal spiritual life. The Christian life is essentially corporate, ecclesial; our primary nourishment is not individual devotions, but hearing the Word read and preached in the Divine Liturgy; our primary prayer is when we join our voices together as the people of God in the assembly; we are fed as we gather together at the Lord’s Table week-by-week. We are created, and redeemed in community, and yet we all need times of solitude. We need times of quiet during which we can “withdraw to desolate places and pray.” (Lk. 5:16) The ecclesial life of the disciple feeds the individual life of devotion. The disciple who develops a healthy, quiet, individual devotion bears greater fruit among the community of disciples. Yes, the corporate life of the Church is primary, but the relationship between the communal life of discipleship and the quiet devotion in solitude is reciprocal.

In our present context, many of us have been forced into isolation This has resulted in a palpable loneliness. Even those of us who are introverts quickly come to miss normal human interaction with the outside world before long. And loneliness is deadly. How can we respond when we are forced into isolation? At the risk of sounding cliche, we need to see this trial as an opportunity for maturation. Where is God leading us in this?

Well, for many, this forced isolation has served already to open their eyes to the importance of community life (whether the community life of the Church, or community more broadly.) Quarantine has created a greater hunger for life together, and for that we can be thankful. But what do we do with our time alone?

From Loneliness to Fruitful Solitude

“What if the events of our history are molding us as a sculptor molds his clay, and if it is only in a careful obedience to these molding hands that we can discover our real vocation and become mature people?” Henri Nouwen, Reaching Out, p. 37

In Reaching Out Henri Nouwen describes three movements of the spiritual life. The first movement is the movement from loneliness to solitude. Nouwen wisely diagnosed his contemporary, Western society with overwhelming loneliness. Forty-five years later the diagnosis is just as true, if not more so. Now, in forced isolation that loneliness is magnified. Physically separated from society we are acutely aware of just how disconnected and lonely we have all become. Life in the Spirit, however, leads to a conversion of loneliness into a fruitful solitude.

This, I have come to believe, is one of the lessons the Lord would have me, and perhaps you, learning during our quarantine. Convert the keen sense of loneliness that we may feel to a fruitful solitude. Find ways to grow in solitude that will make us more fruitful disciples when our normal community lives are restored. “Solitude,” Nouwen says, “does not pull us away from our fellow human beings but instead makes real fellowship possible.” b

Quarantine serves to pinpoint areas in our lives that are in need of growth. I venture to say that all of us have room to grow in our prayer lives; this is a great time to seek growth in that discipline. If you’re stuck at home, dive into the Psalms. Read them. Pray them. Sing them. Get into the practice of praying the Daily Offices of Morning and Evening Prayer. It can be easy to fall into patterns of laziness, drawn into our phones and social media. Don’t let that happen.

In solitude, we come to greater knowledge of ourselves, often painfully. Calvin says that true and sound wisdom “consists of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves.” c A growing knowledge of God brings to light truths about ourselves, our condition, areas of our lives where we need to work out our salvation to walk in a manner worthy of the Gospel. This self-knowledge will, as Calvin says, in turn drive us to greater love of God.

I’ve been using the terms “solitude” and “isolation,” but in fact for many we are not completely alone. We are quarantined with our families, and this concentrated time with our spouses and children brings to light areas in need of growth as well. Use this time to develop patterns of prayer with your family, to grow in your love for spouse and children, to learn more about these people with whom you live. Concentrated, prolonged proximity can lead us to greater irritability towards one another, or it can give us opportunity to die to ourselves in love and service for each other. Let your quarantine with your family work in you a readiness to respond to others in love that will bear fruit once our full community life is restored.

It is my prayer that our time of solitude will make our community lives all the richer on the other side of this.

  1. Note, it is not my purpose here to comment on the wisdom or lack-thereof in our public response to the virus, but simply to highlight how we can respond to the situation as it is.  (back)
  2. Reaching Out, p. 28  (back)
  3. Institutes 1.1.1  (back)

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On January 26, 2020 By In Culture, Pro-Life

Six Prayers for the Unborn

Where does the blame lie as millions of unborn babies are mercilessly and pre-meditatively killed each year? Upon whose hands does their blood leave a stain? How do we speak prophetically as the church to this cultural evil and at the same time speak pastorally to those who have succumbed to the lies? There is much to say about these things, but today I want to put forth a heart of supplication. The greatest way we can stand up and fight for those who cannot fight for themselves is to pray that the hearts of the people be turned back to the ways of the Lord. Sin diminishes as the gospel advances. A heart ruled by God is a heart that loves and serves those made in His image. Here are six prayers taken from Psalm 139 for us to meditate on and pray this upcoming week.

1. That we would trust and value the wisdom of God in the giving of life.

“O LORD, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up;you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O LORD, you know it altogether. You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it.” [vv.1-6]

We all know what it is like to be faced with uncertainty and unanswered questions in life. These moments test our faith. Will we trust the wisdom and goodness of God in the darkness? The conception of a child, whatever the circumstances surrounding it, is one of those moments. How will I provide for this child? How will this affect my future dreams and plans? How will others feel or respond to the pregnancy?

(more…)

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On November 13, 2019 By In Books, Theology, Wisdom

Augustine on Prayer

Augustine’s book Confessions is a wonderful reflection on the sovereignty of God and the evangelical nature of the gospel. That is to say, in reading in the Confessions, you are steeped in the reality that God will judge every moment of your life. Augustine underlines and highlights this reality throughout the book by writing it as one long prayer to God.

One time I was talking with a friend about the book and he commented that he kept getting caught on the pronoun “you”. He would be reading along and then Augustine would say “you” and my friend said that pronoun would reorient everything: the book is not addressed to the reader but to God. This is true throughout the whole book even up to the end where Augustine writes, “Only you can be asked, only you can be begged, only on your door can we knock” (Bk XIII.38).

As I reflect on the nature of prayer and what Augustine is doing in this book, I am challenged in a couple of ways. First, do I have such a robust prayer life that I could pray to God like Augustine? Augustine prays about everything imaginable. Big things and small things: he prays about smiling as an infant, being beaten at school, dreams, friendships, reading, death, philosophy, memory, etc. Augustine’s prayer life is his whole life. I don’t know when I have ever heard someone pray about the nature of time. But Augustine does it.   

(more…)

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On August 14, 2017 By In Worship

What To Pray?

What the world needs now is a crazed Muslim leader in the Middle East who has nuclear capabilities to launch a nuclear weapon at the USA. The world needs Christians to suffer and die at the hands of atheistic Communists and rabid Muslims. America needs abortion to continue to be legal for decades to come. Aunt Lucy needs to be diagnosed with stage four cancer. Uncle Joe needs to be in an accident so that he loses a leg. Henrietta needs to lose her child to leukemia. We and the rest of creation need these horrible things.

Who would ever think such things? Who would ever pray for such things? No one that I know.

However, in the infinite wisdom of God, situations like these may indeed be necessities. I know it is repulsive to you. It churns my stomach as well. But so does the cross, yet it was a necessity. Jesus told his disciples on a number of occasions that it was necessary for him to go to Jerusalem to suffer and die at the hands of Israel’s leaders (cf. e.g., Matthew 16.21). They couldn’t grasp it at the time because it was a category mistake. Messiah doesn’t suffer defeat. He wins. How could this be necessary? To kill the Messiah would be sin. How is sin necessary?

I’m not telling you that I understand why these are necessities. I’m only telling you that they are. God raises up Pharaohs, Assyrians, and Babylonians to oppress his people, and prophets such as Habbakuk have problems with it too. He turns the devil loose on his faithful servant Job to bring him to the point of death. He raises up scribes, Pharisees, Sadducees, and Roman governors to kill his Son. These are all necessities.

But would you pray for such things? No. But then again, you don’t know what to pray for as you ought; you don’t know what the world needs. So says Paul in Romans 8.26. We see the creation groaning. We groan when we participate in the suffering and see others suffering. We pray for deliverance. And we should. We know that this is not the way things ultimately ought to be. The created order is in disarray, and we want it set right. That’s proper. Praying toward that end is the right thing to do. Jesus taught us to pray that way.

But how God is getting us there is just as mysterious to us as it was for the disciples when Jesus told them that it was necessary for him to suffer and die. We don’t know what the world needs exactly in this or that situation. We don’t know what we need. Our perspective is limited, not only because we’re sinners, but because we’re creatures. God has not afforded us the perspective that he has on the world. He is the wise one who knows how everything–even sin–fits together and is working toward the good of his people and the rest of creation. No matter how much wisdom we mature into in our lifetimes, our wisdom will never be God’s wisdom. There will never be a time when we know exactly what to pray; when we know precisely what is needed in every situation.

The Spirit helps us in this weakness (Rom 8.26). However, he doesn’t help us by giving us the exact words to pray so that we can get a grasp on the situation and fix it. The Spirit groans with us, never giving us the relief of putting it into words. He never gives us that leverage over the world. We are called to suffer in prayer with the world, and the Spirit comes and suffers with us, interceding for us.

And the Father understands the Spirit’s groanings. He knows the mind of the Spirit, and he will give us and the creation what we need. We can be assured of that.

In light of this, praying in faith is not claiming this healing or really believing that God will remove this oppressor if you pray long enough. Praying in faith is following the prayer life of our Lord himself who prays, “Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not my will, but yours be done.” Praying in faith is submitting all those things we think are necessities to the wisdom of the Father. Yes, we ask him for the things we think we need. But we trust the will of our loving heavenly Father to do what is best for us and the creation. We know that our Father will not give us a serpent when we ask for a fish. He will not give us a scorpion when we ask for an egg (Luke 11.11-12). He will give us good gifts, even when they come in packages of suffering.

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On March 3, 2016 By In Culture, Politics

Unrelenting: A Prayer for Faithfulness

In their excellent book, Unchanging Witness, Professors Fortson and Grams spend a chapter recounting the capitulation of the numerous mainline denominations to the homosexual agenda, including the Episcopal Church and Evangelical Lutheran Church. But the account that caught my attention was the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA).

I am not an expert on the history of the PCUSA, but I believe there were serious issues, such as rejection of the authority of Scripture, rejection of the supernatural, and ordination of women, which preceded their acceptance of homosexuality. If true, their capitulation to the homosexuals was not a surprise. A denomination that ordains women is going to have a hard time barring the doors against homosexuals. Here is the timeline of how the PCUSA moved to accepting gays, gay ministers, and eventually same sex marriage (Fortson and Grams p. 157-158): (more…)

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martin luther monk

On February 19, 2015 By In Scribblings

Brother Martin of Erfurt

The Morning Prayer Commemoration from the Mission of St. Clare included this wonderful biographical sketch of Martin Luther by James Kiefer.

martin luther monkBrother Martin

I once heard a priest say: “Sometimes in a sermon, I have occasion to quote some comment by Martin Luther which bears on the point I want to make. But there are those in my congregation who would wonder what I was doing quoting a notorious Protestant. So I simply refer to him as Brother Martin of Erfurt, and they smile and nod. He said a lot of remarkably good things.”

German Peasant Stock…

Brother Martin of Erfurt, born in 1483 of German peasant stock, was a monk (more exactly, a regular canon) of the Order of Saint Augustine, and a Doctor of Theology. In his day, the Church was at a spiritual low. Church offices were openly sold to the highest bidder, and not nearly enough was being done to combat the notion that forgiveness of sins was likewise for sale. Indeed, many Christians, both clergy and laity, were most inadequately instructed in Christian doctrine. Startling as it seems to us today, there were then no seminaries for the education of the clergy. There were monastic schools, but they concentrated on the education of their own monks. Parish priests, ordinarily having no monastic background, were in need of instruction themselves, and in no way prepared to instruct their congregations. Brother Martin set out to remedy this. He wrote a simple catechism for the instruction of the laity which is still in use today, as is his translation of the Scriptures into the common tongue. His energy as a writer was prodigious. From 1517, when he first began to write for the public, until his death, he wrote on the average one book a fortnight.

Criticisms and Conflict

Today, his criticisms of the laxness and frequent abuses of his day are generally recognized on all sides as a response to very real problems. It was perhaps inevitable, however, that they should arouse resentment in his own day (Brother Martin, and for that matter many of his opponents, had controversial manners that my high school speech teacher and debate coach would never have tolerated!), and he spent much of his life in conflict with the ecclesiastical authorities. The disputes were complicated by extraneous political considerations on both sides, and, as one of his admirers has observed, each side was at its best when proclaiming what the other side, well considered and in a cool hour, did not really deny.

Salvation as a free gift

Brother Martin, for example, was most ardent in maintaining that salvation was a free gift of God, and that all attempts to earn or deserve it are worse than useless. But he was not alone in holding this. When his followers met in 1540 with Cardinal Contarini, the Papal delegate, in an effort to arrive at an understanding, there was complete agreement on this point. The Cardinal, by a study of the Epistle to the Romans, had arrived in 1511 at the same position as Brother Martin in 1517. So had Cardinal Pole, the Archbishop of Canterbury (who had, ironically, been appointed to combat Brother Martin’s influence). So had the Archbishop of Cologne, and so had many other highly placed Church officials.

Rudiments of the Faith

In Brother Martin’s own judgement, his greatest achievement was his catechism, by the use of which all Christians without exception might be instructed in at least the rudiments of the Faith. Some of his admirers, however, would insist that his greatest achievement was the Council of Trent, which he did not live to see, but which he was arguably the greatest single factor in bringing about. While the Council’s doctrinal pronouncements were not all that Brother Martin would have wished, it did take very much to heart his strictures on financial abuses, and undertook considerable reforms in those areas It banned the sale of indulgences and of church offices, and took steps to provide for the systematic education of the clergy. Putting it another way, if I were arguing with an adherent of the Pope, and I wanted to point out to him that many Popes have been, even by ordinary grading-on-a-curve standards, wicked men, cynically exploiting their office for personal gain, I would have no difficulty in finding examples from the three centuries immediately preceding Brother Martin and the Council of Trent. If I were restricted to the centuries afterward, I should have more of a problem. And this is, under God, due in some measure to Brother Martin’s making himself a nuisance. Thanks be to God for an occasional nuisance at the right time and place.

Behold, Lord
An empty vessel that needs
To be filled.

My Lord, fill it
I am weak in the faith;
Strengthen me.
I am cold in love;
Warm me and make me fervent,
That my love may go out

To my neighbor…
O Lord, help me.
Strengthen my faith and

Trust in you…
With me, there is an

Abundance of sin;
In You is the fullness of

Righteousness.
Therefore I will remain

With You,
O whom I can receive,
But to Whom I may not give.

–Brother Martin Luther of Erfurt (1483-1546)

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