The Prayer of a Righteous Man

Before leaving the house today, a friend said, "I would like to pray for you."  I never have any problem with someone praying for me.  Before he prayed, he said, "The Word says  that if anyone is sick, the elders of the church should pray for them and I reckon I am old enough to be an elder."  As one six years younger than me, he qualifies as an elder.  While I think the passage in James (5:13-15) is about the spiritual leaders of the church praying, I did not interrupt.  He was elder enough for me.  God didn't care. Neither did I.   

Sometimes it seems the church gets too caught up doing things by the book.  My own denomination has declared that only the ordained can administer the Sacrament.  Yet, there have been many a small group of believers studying and praying together who shared the Holy Meal without the beneifit of my presence.  Was it any less a remembrance and celebration of something sacred?  I think not.  Some denominations only allow those confirmed as members to receive the Sacrament which, of course, excludes the children whom Jesus was always inviting to come to Him.  Is the Table really open to all, or just those who jump through the hoops?  Again, my own denomination could never have achieved the impact it did in the formational days of our country without the unordained lay pastors who rode the circuits.   

My friend who stopped to pray today had no church officials lay hands on him to declare him an elder, but he was elder enough for me.  He is a man of faith whose prayers are constantly springing forth from his heart and falling from his lips.  His faith is strong and his intercessions are the words of a righteous man.  I did not need to see his credentials or his robes.  I saw his heart.  It was more than enough.

The Great Pretender

There are times when it seems that the church has hijacked Jesus.  But, then it is not the spiritual community centered on Jesus Christ which has done the deed, but the institutional church which poses as the Great Pretender. The institutional church is concerned about its survival.  It feeds on more.  It has its roots dug deeply into deeper treasuries, bigger buildings, and a success that is measured in much the same way as any thriving business.  The bottom line is not the number of souls saved, or lives radically transformed by the person of the resurrected Christ, but how smoothly the programs operate and the financial report at the end of the year.  The primary business of the institutional church is maintenance and survival.   

The church centered on Jesus seeks to lose itself in the world.  Appearance is not the important issue for a community of faith which seeks to live in the world as seed being dropped in the ground.  It is filled with disciples of Jesus who dream and pray about doing for Jesus what seems humanly impossible.  Its mission is not about maintenance but a mission defined by words such as the Great Commission of Matthew 28:18-29 and the Great Missional Mandate found in Matthew 25:31-46 which gives the broken a place alongside of the affluent at the Table of God's Kingdom.   

It is hard for those of us within the church to see the importance of the distinction because we start out with nothing more than our love for Jesus only to be seduced by an institutional church which whispers that what we want to do for Jesus can be done even better and with greater effect if we will buy into the agenda of the Great Pretender.  There is never any big announcement that we have switched horses.  It is all so very subtle.  One day we are all for the community centered on Jesus and the next day, it is all about maintenance of the institution instead of mission.  All the talk about Jesus becomes window dressing.

 

Glory in a Box

Even before the church came into being through the rush of that mighty wind at Pentecost, there was a spirit which sought to control the ministry of Jesus.  There are two stories in the 9th chapter of Mark which enable us to see the birth of the controlling influence which flourished as the church became institutionalized.  The first is the most well know.  When Peter, James, and John experienced the Mt. of Transfiguration, the first thing they wanted to do was to build three shrines on the mountain, one for Jesus, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.  It was a moment of experiencing a great sunburst of heavenly glory and Peter's response was to build a small house for it. (Mark 9:2-8).  

The second incident is reported a little later in the same chapter as John tells about trying to stop someone from casting our demons in the name of Jesus because as the disciple put it, "...he was not following us." (Mark 9:38). Jesus had a different idea.  "But Jesus said, 'Do not stop him...' " (Mark 9:39).  As the church became more organized and more institutionalized, it succumbed to the temptation to put glory in a box.  No longer would following Jesus be a thing as simple as "Come and see," (John 1:39) for the church began to set in place how would be followers should come to Jesus, what prayers they should pray, and what spiritual practices to which they should submit.  

In the early days of my ministry, a leaflet about four spiritual laws was required reading for any seeker.  In many places of our church culture, being baptized is not nearly as important as how the baptized are baptized.  Not even the Table where Jesus first offered a meal of grace is open to all.  Unfortunately, the church in many places has special requirements for those who would come and partake.  More than anyone or anything, the church seems most afraid of losing its control and letting the glory out of the box.

Rekindling Faith

Memory has the power to bring to our consciousness things thought to be forgotten.  The other night out the blue came a memory of a song I had not heard in such a long time, one I learned growing up in Sunday night worship, and one I would have thought forgotten forever until I remembered it.  "In Times Like These" was the gospel song.  Maybe you remember George Beverly Shea singing it in one of the Billy Graham Crusades, or maybe you remember it from those informal Sunday night worship services when you sang until you were breathless.   

"In times like these, you need a Savior.  In times like these, you need an anchor.  Be very sure, be very sure, your anchor holds and grips the Solid Rock."  I love those old songs of the faith.  I miss those Sunday night services.  As a preacher I always was trying to recapture that faith building experience for those entrusted to me.  While I confess to not being a big fan of contemporary music in worship, the reason has to do with what is being remembered and stored in our spiritual storehouse.  We sang those old songs from "The Cokesbury Hymnal" over and over and over.  They were a part of the building blocks of our faith.   

I wonder what kind of memories are being stored through the music experience of today's church.  Will people thirty or forty years from now remember the lyrics of songs of faith, or will they simply remember the worship team and the excitement generated by the rhythm of the music and stage atmosphere?  I know this is the old fashioned worn out preacher longing for the good old days, but I still wish I could be sure there will be memories being created which have the power to rekindle faith.

My Soul Seeks in the Night

 In the darkness of the night

    my soul seeks to see the One

      Who cannot be seen and

        Whose voice speaks; yet,

          is one that cannot be heard.

Still my soul seeks Him in the night.  

 

Is it the darkness which hides His face?

   No, He is not One who can be hidden

     by any darkness, or power, or foe.

       It is own choosing, this not seeing,

         Neither this darkness, nor a lack of faith.

So my soul seeks Him in the night.

 

In the darkness my soul seeks the unseen,

   the One seen as a thousand faces:

     Brilliant red sunsets, ivory white moon rises,

       growing hay fields, red cows awaiting,

         roaring crashing waves, whispering wind.

My soul knows the One it seeks in the night.

 

In the darkness my soul waits and watches

    not knowing everything, but sure of one,

      the One unseen is coming.  He is near.

        Always it has been such in the darkness,

          and the present darkness shall not prevail.

My soul waits for the Living God who comes.

          

Grateful

One of the things I have learned along the way is to live with gratitude.  The Apostle Paul wrote, "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. (I Thessalonians 16-18).  Rejoicing and praying is easy compared to the admonition of giving thanks.  While I have not reached the level of Paul, I am further along the way than I used to be.  Keeping a Prayer Journal taught me that in the darkest of times, there are things for which to be thankful.  This is not a Pollyanna approach to life, but one filled with realism.   

All of us have been through some very dark and hard moments in our life.  In those moments being grateful may be difficult.  In such moments we might imagine ourselves standing at the edge of the darkness.  At the edge of our darkness we can see the people who are encouraging us, the people who are praying for us, the care being given to us, and the awareness that we have not been forgotten by God.  As we start at the edge of the darkness, we can slowly move into it still mindful of the things and the people for which we can be grateful.    

Maybe this discipline or practice does not work for everyone, but it has enabled me to be grateful in circumstances which could have caused anger or bitterness.  One thing is certain.  Life is lived better when we look at every circumstance through the lens of gratitude.  And remember, too, "this is the will of God."

A Shimmering Word

Years ago I became acquainted with Esther da Waal,  a writer who introduced me to the stream of Celtic spirituality.  A word she often used was "shimmering."  As an example, she would talk about walking with a camera on a walk.  Her suggestion was to walk with no intentions of taking a picture of some particular thing, but to see what called for your attention, or as she put it, "shimmered."  A few days ago while looking to read a particular passage in I John, another one I had no intention of reading grabbed my attention.  It shimmered.   

The passage was I John 5:14-15.  Reading it was like walking up three steps with each one containing a truth that led to the next one.  The first step is "And this is the boldness we have in Him..."  Here is a word which calls us to come before Him boldly and without a spirit of timidity and fear.  Come before Him without doubt is what is being suggested.  Step two then says, "that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us..."  Our prayers are not simply cast into the wind to go haphazardly into who knows where.  When we pray according to His heart, we can be assured our prayers are heard.  

The final step is the one that is so amazing, our minds have trouble taking hold of it.  "And if we know that He hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have obtained the request made of Him."  Here is a word which tells us our prayers are not filed away, left in some heavenly drop box, but are heard by Him.  And if heard by Him, we can turn our head toward heaven as we wait for what in inside His will to come in an overflowing and abundant manner into our life.  It truly is a word which shimmers!