Tag Archives: prayer

The Prayer God Always Answers

It might take time or unexpected detours, it may show up in disguise like a trick or treater at the door, but you will always find an answer from God to one particular prayer. Which kind of prayer this is reveals something important about who God is and who we are created to be. Tug on a loose thread of grace before you know what it’s connected to and where it will lead, and often you’ll find this answer to this prayer unspooling in your life. The prayer God always answers may take you where you didn’t know you needed to go.

You may find there’s work in keeping the answer; you may find areas in which growth is demanded of you as you experience the answer. You won’t always live up to the answered prayer. You may question whether the answer is really all that it first seemed. That’s alright. It’s always been so.

But in my life I’ve found God always answers one kind of prayer that my heart entrusts to God’s heart. Browse through Scripture, and you see God doing it over and over and over again.

It may take time or detours or hard work, but the prayer God always answers is the prayer asking God to bring a particular kind of person or community into your life because you recognize your need for other people.

Sometimes it’s tempting to ask God for a solution or a quick fix, when God wants to deepen your relationships with others and to answer your prayers in the healthy interdependency that comes with genuine community.

Sometimes it’s tempting to ask God to heal a particular kind of wound or to numb the pain of loneliness, when God wants you to receive the grace of presence, even if it looks different than you pictured.

Sometimes it’s tempting to ask God for strength to do it all, instead of asking God if your trust in others needs to be expanded.

When you pray and acknowledge your lack, your limitations, your learning curve, and your loneliness, God will always answer your cry for mentoring or community or help or friendship, even if it doesn’t come in the form you’re hoping for or picturing, even if it takes time, even if the circumstances are what you were trying to avoid.

If you’re grieving a gaping hole in your life where a relationship should be but is out of reach for whatever reason, God may not restore a relationship with a particular person. But God can bring into your life someone who’s a similar presence, and they will be a source of grace, growth, and comfort. If your mother abandoned you or was unavailable or absent, a relationship with her may be out of reach, but God can hear the longing of your heart and bring someone mother-ly into your life. She won’t be perfect – no mother is – but whether she’s old enough to be your Grandma or just beyond you in years like an older sister, if you see a kind of person missing in your life, start praying that God will intersect your life with embodied grace.

If you’re grieving a gaping hole in your life where a particular kind of community should be but is out of reach for whatever reason, God may not relocate you, but God can bring into your life people you may not completely realize you need. They will be a source of grace, growth, and comfort. They won’t be perfect – no one is – and you will see your own learning curves and areas for growth in new ways.

One time I sat praying for a very specific kind of small community. I was at a conference; it was a stage of life when it can be really difficult to forge new relationships, especially if you’re in a vocation like ministry when peers themselves are often far-flung or regularly relocating. Someone had been speaking on the value of a small knot of trusted friends who also seek out God’s heart. I didn’t question the value, I questioned the viability; I knew it was a good thing to want, but I could not see how it would unfold. Normally fasting isn’t my first instinct; but that day, I sat and prayed, tears streaming, as others left for lunch, telling God my heart and hurts and longing. I still can’t describe how it happened with any coherence, but by the time I left the conference, I found myself part of a small knot of kindred spirits, some casual former acquaintances, some familiar but until that conference strangers, and we had agreed to form a group together. How? I had lunch with one person, chatted with another, there might have been an introduction, maybe we decided to sit together during worship? And then the final one – I think she saw us knotted together praying during a time of prayer huddles and joined us and then that was that? I’d gone from longing but not seeing any viable avenue, to going home with a fresh set of phone numbers and friends. We still had to work at making time to connect. We’re still far-flung. We all have different points of view, backgrounds, gifts. Persisting in prayer often means you and I are aware of something good that’s missing and that we can’t orchestrate by or for ourselves.

One time when I worked in a nursing home, one of my favorite residents died. He was a rascal; mischievous; gave the social worker grey hairs. I loved him. When his kids wrote to the facility thanking us for the care we had given him, they said – “Dad had been so depressed living alone. He’s always been outgoing, and with his health he was confined to home so much. He loved living at the nursing home. He was his old self again – people to talk to. The friends he made there were so important to him.” I knew what they meant. He had loved it. Not everything about it, certainly; he made that clear. But he had friends he ate supper with every night, they shared treats from “outside” that their families had brought them. He was with others. Most people avoid or dread long-term care facilities, but his extroverted, mischievous heart found plenty of entertainment and genuine friendship there.

The prayer God always answers: your need for other people – like you, unlike you, similar to you, different than you.

That doesn’t mean that every unmarried person will be married; it doesn’t mean that every specific relationship with a specific person will be restored (sometimes they can’t or shouldn’t be).

It does mean that God who is internal community, Father Son and Holy Spirit, and who created humans for and in community, takes our longing for friendship, relationship, camaraderie, and community seriously – and joyfully.

God, I need a teacher. A mentor. A coach. An auntie in the faith.

God, I need someone who’s like a Dad or Grandpa, someone who knows Your heart.

God, I need a handful of good buddies who checks in with me, who I check in with.

God, I need a long-haul friend with whom I can meaningfully share life.

God, I need people in my life who look different than me, who have different experiences, speak different languages.

God, I need a few good prayer warriors I can turn to.

Moses needed his father-in-law’s advice; and Moses needed the people his father-in-law recommended that he entrust. Naomi and Ruth needed each other. Anna and Simeon needed to bless, and Joseph and Mary needed to witness their response to this baby. Paul needed to learn that he needed Barnabas, who was right about John Mark. Esther needed Mordecai, and Mordecai and many others needed Esther. The apostles needed the Greek widows as much as the Greek widows needed them. Mary needed Elizabeth. Saul desperately needed Ananias.

“It is not good for Human to be alone…”

These are prayers worth persisting in. Tug loose threads expectantly, be on the lookout even if you’re not sure what you’re looking for. Be wise in who you let into your heart, but trust that as you grow in self-knowledge, self-awareness, and maturity, that the Holy Spirit will collide into your day with people you didn’t expect but profoundly need. Fast from relationships that are all in your own image – a reflection of yourself. And then do the work of caring for those answers to prayer so that as you continue to grow and sharpen each other, you are tending to God’s beautifully given answers to persistent, expectant prayers.

Featured image courtesy Jeremy Yap on Unsplash.

The Grief of Leaders: Solitary & Shared

When church leaders grieve, there is sometimes a spiritual reality that makes the grief of a pastor or priest slightly distinct from the grief of other leaders. Grief and reality pair together; anytime we find ourselves grieving, we find ourselves responding at multiple levels to what we perceive to be true, as cartoons remind us whenever someone cries over a character thought to be dead, their tears changing to joy when someone proves alright. So anyone’s experience of grief may itself be real even if it doesn’t correspond either to reality or to the usual proportions of navigating this world: senior citizens with Alzheimer’s “sundowners” syndrome may at the end of the day weep at things they only perceive in their minds, quite apart from the physical surroundings of a nursing home. Young children may cry “big tears” over something that, to adults, seems quite a small thing, and yet, to the child, it is enormous; the child, who doesn’t yet know of genocide or extinction.

When we read in Scripture that Christians do not grieve as the world grieves, the point made is that we do not grieve as those do who have no hope. Another ramification is that we do not grieve as the world grieves because in terms of epistemology – how we know – by the power of the Holy Spirit and the grace of Christ, we see differently and know differently and therefore grieve differently; we grieve many of the same things, yet some very different things. The spiritual reality in which we participate is connected to the presence of God and also to our role in the universe we affirm God created. Christians may explore and study the empirical world with joyful glee and curiosity and also express that there is this and. There is more to the world than the tangible.

So in addition to what might be called the “natural grief” that pastors and church leaders encounter, there is the grief that echoes, originates from, returns to, and expresses the heart of the Trinity – a kind of spiritual grief or lament that sees evil, sees the out-of-joint misalignment of the world, sees disordered loves, and responds with sorrow. The liturgy of the church, like bumpers on a bowling alley lane, prevents us from going off-course by any instinct to “grieve” over the evil in our world without also sitting with remorse for the lack of love in our own hearts: “most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent.”

So what are some of the “natural” griefs pastors and church leaders experience? They may range from sitting with someone’s loved ones to deliver bad news, to sorrow at moving to a new church, to shepherding a congregation through property destruction from natural disaster, to learning a beloved church member and friend has died suddenly. Many pastors are accustomed to encountering many more funerals and hospital waiting rooms than the average person – yet by and large, these are things that most people would also grieve, whether or not they’re a Christian.

Some of these “natural” griefs are experienced largely in isolation, like moving to a new church, while others are experienced as shared grief, like the loss of a church building to a tornado, or when a congregation mourns a terminal cancer diagnosis for a child. Though Jesus later raised Lazarus from the dead, Jesus saw the mourning and grief over Lazarus’ death, and first wept with those affected by the death. This was a communal, shared grief over the death of a good and beloved man.

When leaders experience spiritual grief or lament, it brings a new – and sometimes draining or demanding – layer to natural grief. When Jesus came near to Jerusalem, what was his response? “And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes.” (Luke 19:41-42, NRSV)

Unfailingly, the anointing of the Holy Spirit reshapes what and how we grieve, the actions we take in response, and how we take those actions. Unfailingly, whatever our own natural temperaments or cultural upbringing, the Holy Spirit is kind to the gaps in our awareness by gently or not-so-gently revealing what we fail to love, by what we fail to grieve – usually by allowing us to see, if we’re willing, and to grieve, if we’re willing. Unfailingly, the Holy Spirit calls us to see and apprehend and grieve what Jesus Christ grieves, not just what your Grandma grieved, not just what your culture grieves.

There are times natural grief and spiritual grief and lament overlap. There is natural, communal, shared grief over the death of a good and beloved man. There is also spiritual grief and lament over evil, when that man was Rev. Clementa Pinckney, who died while leading a Bible study because an armed White supremacist was determined to follow through on his plan to kill members of a historic Black church. For Rev. Pinckney’s friends and family, the natural grief of loss collided with grief at the past and ongoing active evil of White supremacy. Those who didn’t know him personally were still able to grieve the evil that ended his life. Where did spiritual grief take family members of some of the churchgoers who died at that Bible study? Through their natural grief, their spiritual grief also allowed them to tell a young man who took many innocent lives that they forgave him, that God loves him, but that he needed God’s mercy on his soul for the lives he took. They saw both: both the horrible crater blasted in their families through the loss of their loved ones, and the damage to his own soul that this young man caused when he chose to terrorize and murder others.

Why is it helpful, as a pastor, to ask yourself if you’re experiencing “natural” grief, or spiritual grief or lament, or a combination of both? Because they’re dealt with in different ways. Good therapists, strong support systems, healthy life rhythms, friends in the same vocation, sabbaticals, emotionally healthy discipleship, antidepressants, all these can at times be helpful to anyone grieving and to pastors and church leaders in particular.

Spiritual grief also needs those good foundations in place, yet comes with that earlier and. There is the tangible world, and. Why does the Holy Spirit allow us to see, to perceive and apprehend, to join our mourning to the revealed heart of the Trinity that spills out a fraction of the grief of God at the suffering and evil by, in, and toward humans and creation?

Spiritual grief allows you to pray differently; beyond outer circumstances into the reality with and beyond. Spiritual grief cues you to pay attention, to make room to pay attention, and to practice the hard work of listening and discerning between your own grief or responses or ideas, and God’s. Spiritual grief allows you to see and act differently, when God allows you to come face-to-face with suffering to which you’d previously been oblivious. Spiritual grief drives you back to the Word of God as sustaining, irreplaceable, life-giving, and perspective-setting; truly, we do not grieve as those who have no hope. Spiritual grief is understood by and to a degree also carried by mature people of faith who have a deep life of intercession and deep experience of both the grief and the joy and confidence found in the practices of the life of faith.

Grief of any kind is never comfortable. We would outrun it with busyness, if we could, or hide from it silently as it prowls back and forth, or give voice to it, longing to broadcast our tormented howls daily on a loudspeaker.

Whatever month grief first appears, however long it stays, once a year, the church marks a day where “natural” and spiritual grief or lament overlap. On Ash Wednesday, Christians set aside a day for grief – we grieve mortality; we grieve, perhaps, those we have returned to the earth; and we grieve the decaying effects of evil, and the reach of evil into our world, into even our own hearts. And then, we turn our eyes toward Lent, and the long road to the cross, and the shaking road away from an empty – an empty – a definitively empty tomb, that proclaims the last word, anchoring even spiritual grief in the reality of hope; because both spiritual grief and hope find their origin in the heart of God, who enters our dusty mortality, weeps with those who weep, and sets all things toward the inescapably new.

Thanks to Dr. Pete Bellini for his related insights on the spiritual gift of prophetic intercession.

Elizabeth Glass Turner is Managing Editor of Wesleyan Accent.

Featured image courtesy Kira Porotikova via Unsplash.

Why We Must Develop Habits of Deeper Discernment

The demands of our world make it abundantly clear that we urgently need Christians who cultivate habits of discernment. Discernment can be challenging to define and practice at the best of times, but it is absolutely vital at certain moments. And within the practice of discernment lies a quiet habit that may seem like a rabbit trail leading off from the main thing; it may even seem lacking in appropriate pious fervor. Of course, I mean deliberately pursuing the practice of curiosity.

Our urgent need for Christians who hone discernment as part of spiritual growth drives us home to what it means to be curious. And if this doesn’t yet seem convincing, consider the difference right now between an American Christian who can describe the general region where Ukraine is located vs an American Christian who cannot. Is geography essential to spiritual growth? No.

But humility is.

History isn’t essential to spiritual growth, either; but interest in the broad, simple strokes of a geopolitical context can increase the understanding you bring to your intercession.

A simple text continues to float to mind this week: “wise as serpents, gentle as doves.” The call to be savvy and kind describes both perspective and posture.

We aren’t allowed to stop our ears and close our eyes and hum and ignore evil; a savvy perspective recognizes and discerns evil – and does not underestimate it. (This was a characteristic of G.K. Chesterton’s priest-detective, Father Brown.) We are allowed however to be savvy in when and where and how we confront evil. In the midst of this perspective, a gentle or kind posture means that in recognizing or confronting evil, we are not allowed to dehumanize ourselves or others.

You do not have to be a top student or Rhodes scholar or trivia champ to cultivate curiosity and grow in deeper discernment. You don’t have to be able to speak five languages or have a trust fund to show compassion. Somehow though, a creeping habit has begun to let us off the hook; the habit of winking at a lack of curiosity or even disinterested ignorance.

Yet many churches of all sizes throw open a window to the world, when members tack a map to a lobby bulletin board with pins marking missionary locations, or medical teams are formed to travel on medical mission trips to countries with critical health needs.

When my mother was a child, she sat on the lap of her Grandmother, who knew a very narrow slice of life experience, confined to a small number of square miles. But her Grandmother passionately supported her denomination’s missionaries through ladies’ fundraising efforts – and prayer. One day, her Grandma had a bound world atlas on her lap. “Don’t let anyone ever tell you I’ve never been anywhere,” she told my mother. “I’ve traveled all over the world through this book.”

A woman with limited money, education, and life experience was hungry to learn, and for her, learning about her world was a way she could better practice her faith. Decades after she could no longer hold an atlas, my feet found Chinese soil, Mongolian soil, Scottish soil. I visited places she read about, places she saw in flickering black and white reels, places she saw on the small fuzzy square of early television.

Humility allows us to be teachable – to be unembarrassed by curiosity. We don’t have to hide our lack of knowledge by behaving as though we don’t have anything to learn, and we don’t have to hide our lack of knowledge by brushing away topics with flimsy excuses: “I let the so-and-so’s worry about that” or “that’s above my paygrade” or “I’ve just never been good at that” or even “I just leave that in God’s hands.” All those statements may be partly or mostly true. But the implied second half is the problem: “…so I don’t bother with it.”

There comes a point when lack of curiosity begins to border dangerously on lack of love.

If I love my neighbor, I will go to the effort. I will bother with it. I may not understand well, I may make blunders, I may get stuck on a DuoLingo level or have terrible pronunciation of even one basic word of their language, I may get their holiday or festival slightly wrong. They will see I tried.

But there also comes a point when lack of curiosity begins to seriously impair discernment.

What I don’t bother with, I don’t reckon with. What I ignore, I fail to factor into my thinking; I fail to factor into my prayers.

“Well, God knows it all anyway.”

Yes; and I don’t bear responsibility for world events or sustaining gravity. But I do bear the basic responsibility of citizenship, and the greater responsibility of Christian love.

The Apostle Paul didn’t write to all those scattered groups of early Christians, “well, I’ve never been good at letter-writing and God knows how you’re doing anyway, so I’m not going to bother keeping up with what’s happening in your neck of the woods.”

No: Paul urgently wanted to know how they were doing; he told them how he was praying for them; he let them know what updates he’d had about their welfare; he longed to see them and see for himself that they were alright. He updated them on what was happening with himself and others; he prayed for them, drew from informed examples to encourage their spiritual growth, and navigated among a variety of cultural, linguistic, and religious backgrounds and differences.

Sometimes, with the help of the Holy Spirit, he even used the ignorance of others strategically. (“When they found out he was a Roman citizen…”) By walking around and looking at the cultural and religious practices of a place, he was able to discern an introduction into conversation (even Paul kept silent, observed, and stayed teachable and curious sometimes).

By absorbing the events around him, learning about others, and engaging strategically, Paul paid others the dignity of notice. And consider the marvelous power of the Holy Spirit at work in his life! Young, zealous Saul had been in the thick of it, watching coats as Stephen was martyred; he noticed, listened, and traveled in his zeal to track down, root out, and arrest – “terrorize” – early Christians. God used these same characteristics and traits that had been directed toward persecution, and anointed them and redirected them to fuel the spread of the early church.

The difference, of course, smote the earth in his cataclysmic encounter with Christ.

The difference, of course, was love.

Through the power of the Holy Spirit, you and I can discern through the fog of our times to see places God may be at work. By intentionally growing our curiosity about our world, by refusing to flinch at hard things, by trusting God with the depth of our lament or overwhelmed brains or confusion, the Holy Spirit can synthesize the bits and pieces of your life that seem disparate or random so that you can see – really see – into the truth of a moment; so you can sense the Spirit’s prompt of, “wait – wait; now!”

Savvy as serpents, gentle as doves. We must refuse to underestimate evil; we must discern; we must not dehumanize.

Is geography essential to spiritual growth? Of course not; neither is literacy, for that matter.

But humility is.

God, give us the grace to be curious; give us the courage to face whatever we find; and give us practice in seeing and seizing moments, by listening for and following the rhythm of the Holy Spirit. And all for love’s sake.

Featured image courtesy Karl JK Hedin via Unsplash.

Overcoming Antagonism: What You Can Learn from Nehemiah

At our church, we’re spending time in the book of Nehemiah and learning how it is that amazing things happen. So far, we’ve explored how amazing things happen when we pray, when we plan, and when we work together. Consider with me now how amazing things happen when we overcome antagonism.

Let’s quickly recap the context of the book of Nehemiah. The historical context of this story is the fifth century B.C. About 100 years before, the Babylonians conquered and destroyed Jerusalem. The walls and the city were left in rubble, the Temple was sacked and burned, and many people were taken as slaves. However, over the years, some were allowed to return – only to discover the city was still destroyed and deserted. It was a terrible reality of sadness, loss, and anger.

Nehemiah had never been to Jerusalem, but when he heard reports of its condition, he requested that the Persian king (who he served as cupbearer) allow him to go back to the city of his ancestors, in order to rebuild it. Nehemiah prayed for months and put together a plan, so when he made his request, he was ready to go. Once he arrived at Jerusalem, he surveyed the land and city and called on the people to unite in the work.

The Eroding Effects of Antagonism in Nehemiah

In Nehemiah 4, things start to get more complicated for Nehemiah and the people. They began to experience powerful antagonism against their work. This is what happened:

Now when Sanballat heard that we were building the wall, he was angry and greatly enraged, and he mocked the Jews. He said in the presence of his associates and of the army of Samaria, “What are these feeble Jews doing? Will they restore things? Will they sacrifice? Will they finish it in a day? Will they revive the stones out of the heaps of rubbish—and burned ones at that?” Tobiah the Ammonite was beside him, and he said, “That stone wall they are building—any fox going up on it would break it down!” (Nehemiah 4:1-3)

These two men, Sanballat and Tobiah, apparently were not happy but deeply disturbed when they heard the wall of Jerusalem was being rebuilt. They were so aggravated that they were described as “angry” and “greatly enraged.”

The rebuilding of Jerusalem was an offense to them, so they tried to stop the work through intimidation and mockery. They began to call Nehemiah and the rest of the people “feeble Jews,” mocking their beliefs to discourage them so they would stop the work. Take a look at the questions they raised to make Nehemiah and the others doubt themselves:

“What are these feeble Jews doing? Will they fortify themselves? Will they offer sacrifices? Will they complete it in a day? Will they revive the stones from the heaps of rubbish; stones that are burned?”

Their purpose in asking these questions was to mock the people and cast doubt on the project by ridiculing their efforts and faith. Sanballat and Tobiah were trying to make them second-guess themselves and their aspirations. They attacked their capacities and their faith by basically saying, “What you are doing is pointless and wrong because you are wrong and your ideas are bad”!

Still: the work did not stop, and the walls of Jerusalem continued to be rebuilt as the gaps were closed. However, this triggered a threat of violence against the Jews. In verse 8, it says that, “they were very angry, and all plotted together to come and fight against Jerusalem and to cause confusion in it.”

What is this, if not an insidious attempt to discourage them from doing what they knew in their hearts was right, what they knew was God’s purpose?

The Eroding Effects of Antagonism in Your Life

Have you ever experienced anything similar? Maybe a family member, friend, or someone else bullied you into stopping by causing you to doubt yourself or your abilities? What happened to you? Did you get discouraged, doubt yourself, and stop the work?

What a shame it is when people you may know choose to act this way against those who are trying to do good. That is exactly what is happening here. Sanballat and Tobiah are powerful antagonistic figures in this story. They are evil critics who bring nothing but discouragement to those working for a good cause. Whether they were moved by jealousy or hate, their goal was to stop the construction of the wall.

When the Strong Ones Fall

Sometimes, no matter how strong and confident you are in what you are doing, everyone is susceptible to discouragement. Even as the people had a plan and were working together with one mind, some of them began to lose heart.“Then Judah said, “The strength of the laborers is failing, and there is so much rubbish that we are not able to build the wall.” (Neh. 4:10)

Did you notice what they said? “We can’t rebuild the wall.” In addition to the opposition they were facing, the work was difficult and logistically complex (“so much rubbish”), and they were getting tired and discouraged.

This was a disturbing development. Judah was supposed to be the strongest and bravest tribe. Historically, it was the tribe of kings. So hearing that workers from the tribe of Judah were getting discouraged and tired meant a major challenge and potentially a catastrophic blow to their work. If the strongest among them was beginning to lose faith and confidence in their capacity to do the work, everyone else would follow.

That was the most dangerous moment, because the only thing that could really stop the work was if the people lost confidence in each other. This was not a battle against blood and flesh; it was one in their minds and hearts.

How Nehemiah Countered Antagonism

So what happened? Did they stop? After hearing Judah was about to give up, this what happened next:

“After I [Nehemiah] looked these things over, I stood up and said to the nobles and the officials and the rest of the people, ‘Do not be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome, and fight for your kin, your sons, your daughters, your wives, and your homes.’” (Neh. 4:14)

Nehemiah reminded them of the “why” of their work: that they were rebuilding for their families and each other. Nehemiah put their minds and hearts back together by telling them, “Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome.” He did not deny the reality of the challenges they were facing but reminded them of their faith and why they were rebuilding.

After this, an amazing thing happened: the hostile plots against them were thwarted, and their enemies shrank back. All this time, their enemies didn’t really have the power to stop the work; that is why they used intimidation. So once the people recovered their faith, stayed together, and remembered their purpose, they overcame the antagonism. Their victory was less about defeating their enemies and much more about not losing themselves.

Do you see what is happening here? Just as the threats made them doubt and forget their purpose, remembering their faith and the gift of rebuilding the wall united them and reminded them of who they were.

My friends, we can’t overcome challenges and enemies if we forget who we are and what we are fighting for. We can’t overcome our challenges if we let fear and discouragement rearrange our minds and hearts to doubt ourselves and forget God. We can’t overcome antagonism if we give up on our work.

How to Overcome Antagonism through Nehemiah’s Example

Learning from Nehemiah, what do we do to overcome antagonism, then?

First, we need to ask for help when we are threatened by discouragement and fear. Since chapter one, we see Nehemiah seeking God and asking for help through prayer. When his enemies were mocking and threatening them with violence, he did little to engage them. Instead, he talked to God to stay focused.

This means prayer is sometimes less about what we ask for and more about what happens to us when we pray. Prayer gives peace and clarity of thought to see what is happening and we need to do about it. What are the challenges you are facing right now? Talk to God about them; pray. Start by telling God what you want, what you need, to say, and then ask for help. You will begin to see the power of prayer in your life.

Second, to overcome antagonism, we need to reorganize our priorities. As we pray, we get new insights in order to do what we need to do. This is what Nehemiah did when he acted promptly to protect the people as the threat was increasing.

For example, in 4:13, Nehemiah “stationed the people according to their families, with their swords, their spears, and their bows.” They were rebuilding the wall, but they were also ready to fight back if their enemies attacked them. This “reorganizing” discouraged the enemy from attacking them, and it encouraged the people, because they knew they could defend themselves if they needed to.

For you, this may be about reorganizing your life and what matters to you. It can be a difficult practice; changing behaviors, long-held ideas, or even shaping your own character requires focused commitment in order to change the direction of your life. But once you reorganize priorities, things begin to fall into place. If anything, antagonism can then make you stronger, because it has bolstered your strengths and capacities and forced you to make hard, long-overdue changes you need. This is what we call “growth.”

The final thing to overcome antagonism is not to forget God is in your life. When the people were close to giving up, Nehemiah reminded the workers, “Do not be afraid of them. Remember the Lord.”

Even in the face of opposition, Nehemiah knew the success of the wall depended on people not forgetting their faith. He reminded them God was with them. This was not only a source of security; it was also a source of inspiration: “God is with us, and we will rebuild our homes!”

This is good news! Greater is the One who is with us than anyone who is against us! God is always with us and will never leave us!

Instead of focusing on the threats of the enemy and the negative voices from outside or within, remember God’s words, God’s goodness, and God’s power. Recall all the things God has already accomplished as well as God’s promises of what is yet to come.

So don’t let antagonistic voices take away your life, dreams, and confidence in the gifts God has given you. Don’t let the antagonists take over you. Their threats are worthless and powerless against your faith and the presence of God in you.

Whatever problems and challenges you have today, know this:

  • You can ask for help; you can pray
  • You can change your direction by reorganizing your priorities and allowing yourself to grow.
  • Most importantly, you can remember God is in your life. Since before you were born, God has been with you, and never left.

Remember God. It will help you remember who you are and what you need to do.

Featured image courtesy Matthias Groeneveld via Pexels

Centering Prayer: A Conversation with Dr. Brian Russell

Dr. Brian Russell is the author of Centering Prayer: Sitting Quietly in God’s Presence Can Change Your Life, a uniquely rich resource for spiritual formation that draws on meaningful traditions of the church across centuries. For those sensing the need for fresh practices to widen or deepen their prayer habits, Centering Prayer beckons with wisdom that outlasts stale New Year’s resolutions. As Lent begins to appear on the horizon, Centering Prayer is poised to enliven the pilgrimage to Easter with practical, theologically nuanced guidance.

Recently Wesleyan Accent delved into the topic of centering prayer with Dr. Russell, who is Professor of Biblical Studies at Asbury Theological Seminary.  

Wesleyan Accent: At times, folks who are most familiar with Christianity as it is practiced in North American Protestant churches are surprised when they encounter something that seems new but is actually shared ancient tradition. Or people can spend thirty years active in a local church and still feel uncertain about how to pray privately. How would you describe contemplative prayer to them? And how would you describe centering prayer as part of that tradition?

Brian Russell: I can include myself in your example. I grew up in the church. I was forty-two years old (and thirty-six years into my Christian experience) before I learned about the contemplative tradition and began to practice centering prayer.

I think it is critical to emphasize that contemplative practices in no way replace traditional forms of prayer or the other means of grace that help us to grow in our relationship with God. I still pray with my own words or with printed prayers from Scripture and modern worship resources. The foundation for centering prayer is the faith delivered to the saints as witnessed in Scripture and embraced by believing communities.

Contemplative prayer is a form of prayer that focuses on being with God rather than using words to talk to God or make petitions of God or even to listen for God. Contemplative prayer is practiced in silence. We simply sit in silence apart from our own thoughts, desires, and concerns. Our intention is to experience God’s presence and love. In his book The Deeper Journey: The Spirituality of Discovering Your True Self, Robert Mulholland, Jr. defined contemplation as, “the practice of stilling ourselves before God, moving ever deeper into the core of our being and simply offering ourselves to God in totally vulnerable love.” (p. 97)

Centering prayer is a method for stilling ourselves for the potential of a deeper encounter with God through contemplation. God’s presence is always a gift; centering prayer is not a way of manipulating an encounter with God’s love. It is simply prayer done in silence without words.

But as soon as we sit in silence, we discover that our minds remain active and caught in continual thought loops. Silence is literally deafening because of our mental chatter. Centering prayer as a technique teaches a way to surrender our thoughts as we become aware of them. The goal of this surrender is the opening of ourselves to experiencing God as God beyond our thoughts.

How do we practice centering prayer? It’s simple to describe, but it takes patience and practice. Here are the basic instructions:

  • Select a prayer word that you can use to recenter whenever you become aware of your thoughts. I recommend that we use “Jesus” as the prayer word as it is Jesus before whom we are sitting in silence. However, others find words such as “love,” “surrender,” “Father,” and “Spirit” among others to be powerful.
  • Find a quiet place where you can sit comfortably for the duration of your prayer time.
  • You can practice centering prayer any time of day. I typically spend twenty minutes in centering prayer as soon as I finish my first cup of coffee in the morning. My wife Astrid and I sit together as a way of beginning our day.
  • Set a timer. I typically practice centering prayer in twenty-minute blocks. Select whatever time period you are comfortable with. I started with short three to five minute sessions and slowly worked up to twenty minutes.
  • Close your eyes and simply sit in silence. Whenever you become aware of a thought, feeling or image, simply say “Jesus” (or whatever word you chose) in your mind as a means of surrendering the thought. The goal is not mindlessness. It is not possible to shut off the mind. However, you will begin to experience short “gaps” in the endless stream of thoughts. It will be in these gaps where you may experience God’s presence in new ways. I say may because we cannot control God. We simply sit in silence with the intention to be open to God’s gift of contemplation.
  • At the end of the centering prayer session, relax for a few moments. I find it helpful to offer prayers of gratitude and then pray the Lord’s Prayer or one of my own.

WA: A while back I heard a great interview on the “economy of attention,” about how much your attention, my attention, is worth to companies. When there’s so much noise, when notification pings compete for our attention, when screens dominate our days, “centering prayer” seems exceptionally counter-cultural – and also seems like a way to quiet sensory bombardment. How does centering prayer help remind you you’re a human, not just a commodity?

BR: The practice of centering prayer is about being. There is no doing involved. Centering prayer teaches us to surrender our attention. We embrace the intention of sitting in silence in order to be with God. When our practice becomes habitual, we slowly become even more aware of the chatter in our minds and all of the noise in the world. But there will be a key difference: the disciplines of “resist no thought, retain no thought, react to no thought, and gently return to Jesus with our sacred word” go with us into the world.

Overtime, we begin to be mindful and present even during the busy-ness of our lives. The same discipline of learning to surrender thoughts to God in silence will carry over to how you listen to a colleague, family member, or friend who needs your attention; how you respond to the inevitable interruptions of life; how you react to conflict; and how you focus on your work. You will slowly find that you notice small details and experience the world in richer colors. Others will likely observe a more calming presence and availability in you.

In terms of the noise of our world, I’ve found that the more I practice centering prayer the more conscious I am of the subtle ways that our world robs us of our most precious gift to God and others: our time and our attention.

WA: Early in the book, describing the season in which you discovered the deep value of centering prayer, you comment that during your personal dark night of the soul, “my ability to think clearly had departed.”

What a word to so many people right now who are in shellshock from the past couple of years: nurses, doctors, pastors, teachers, those who are drowning in grief from the loss of loved ones. Alongside mental health tools like trauma-informed therapy and medication, what in particular might people find in centering prayer when they feel fractured or numb or horrified in their own dark nights of the soul?

BR: For me, centering prayer allowed me to find freedom from a mind that would not shut off. At the darkest parts of my season of the “dark night of the soul,” I didn’t need more information or mental stimulation. I ruminated non-stop on negative thoughts and worst-case scenarios. I was inconsolable.

But I found silence or, better put, silence found me, and in the silence I rediscovered the God who created me and who loved me unconditionally. Experiencing God’s unabashed loved for me when I felt at my lowest was transformational. God’s love cut through the noise. While I still experience times of incessant worry and anxiety, I gained an awareness of the excess and often negative chatter in my mind. In these moments, I sometimes encountered God’s loving presence directly; beyond words. I think that centering prayer can serve as a type of “Divine therapy,” as Fr. Thomas Keating described it. It does not substitute for human-to-human therapy or medication, but I believe it can work in tandem to increase their effectiveness. I’ve personally received tremendous benefits from trauma-informed therapy. In my case, I am certain that my long-term commitment to silent meditative prayer and deep intentional journaling greatly enhanced the results of therapy, as the Divine Healer had already broken up the soil of both the conscious and unconscious wounds that I carried.

WA: You mention in one place that in centering prayer, “surrendering our thoughts to God is our sole contribution.” I could imagine that statement causing some squirming; Americans so often take pride in our ability to put our best foot forward or feel that somehow we’ve paid our own way. We’re not always gracious recipients, preferring to be the ones building or giving. What do you think Christians need to learn or re-learn about our own poverty?

BR: Centering prayer allows us to see ourselves as God sees us. But to experience this level of awareness requires that we surrender even our thoughts (good or bad) to the God who loves us.

There are two deep and helpful truths that exist in a sort of paradox. These truths are expressed in the form of two prayers that I say daily. The first is the Jesus Prayer. It has ancient roots in the early church: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner. Amen.” The second is a modern prayer composed by Macrina Wiederkehr, a Benedictine monastic: “O God, help me believe the truth about myself no matter how beautiful it is. Amen.” I learned of this latter prayer from Maxie Dunnam.

The Jesus Prayer reminds us of our core lostness and ongoing necessity of God’s grace and mercy. There is no way to earn grace and mercy. We come before God empty-handed, with a posture of surrender.

But we also need to understand that God breathed life and abundance in each of us too. Wiederkehr’s prayer opens us up to the beauty and potential of a life surrendered to God in which we walk moment-by-moment in grace as persons created in God’s image. We are free to embrace our gifts and talents without the fear, guilt and shame that tends to either paralyze us and make us play small or drive us to earn or prove our “enoughness.”

WA: Traditionally, there’s this beautiful pattern of retreat and engagement, solitude and companionship, that push and pull spiritual formation like the coming and going of the tide. In centering prayer, when you brave silence with God and sit with what you find there, how does that shape the way you then go out and engage with others?

BR: One of my favorite quotes that I live by is from my mentor Alex McManus. He taught me: “The Gospel comes to us on its way to someone else.” The prayer of silence allows you to see yourself as God sees you. We discover both our need for grace as well as the beauty and potential within us. When we experience the gaze of God on our souls and discover God’s deep love for us as his sons and daughters, we begin to see others in the same light. In fact, encountering God in the silence and accepting the reality that we’ve personally been unconditionally loved and accepted transforms the way we see others. We are freed to love others as God has loved us. My mentor and former colleague Bob Tuttle taught me this: “Show up, pay attention; God has way more invested in our ministry than we do.”

So instead of silence and solitude being a practice that excludes mission, it is one that empowers engagement with the world. What I’ve experienced must be shared. Moreover, as God has changed me through the sanctifying work that occurs during centering prayer, I am free of more of my own “junk” that previously marred my witness and ability to serve as the hands, feet, and mouthpiece of God’s abundant and holy love.

Brian D. Russell, Ph.D., is Professor of Biblical Studies at Asbury Theological Seminary. Learn more about his role as Coach for Pastors and Spiritually-minded Leaders by visiting www.brianrussellphd.com.

Featured image courtesy Fragile James via Unsplash.

Leading like Ananias: Prominence vs Significance in Pastoral Ministry

“Prominence does not equal significance in the Kingdom of God.” I am not sure who said that first, but whenever I hear it my mind always goes to the book of Acts and Ananias. No, not Ananias who with his wife Sapphira lied to the Apostles and tried to defraud God and met an unfortunate end, but the simple believer we only hear of in a couple of verses in Acts 9. My fellow Scottish minister William Barclay called him one of the great forgotten heroes of the Bible and I want to do a little bit to help us remember his significance for our leadership.  

You know the background; Saul has been on a violent crusade to stamp out the fledgling Church. He is now on his way to Damascus to carry out the next stage of this literally murderous campaign. Then he meets Jesus and everything changes.  Saul is told to go to Damascus. Luke tells us this is what happens next.

“In Damascus there was a disciple named Ananias. The Lord called to him in a vision, ‘Ananias!’ ‘Yes, Lord,’ he answered. The Lord told him, ‘Go to the house of Judas on Straight Street and ask for a man from Tarsus named Saul, for he is praying. In a vision he has seen a man named Ananias come and place his hands on him to restore his sight.’

 ‘Lord,’ Ananias answered, ‘I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your holy people in Jerusalem. And he has come here with authority from the chief priests to arrest all who call on your name.’ But the Lord said to Ananias, ‘Go! This man is my chosen instrument to proclaim my name to the Gentiles and their kings and to the people of Israel. I will show him how much he must suffer for my name.’

Then Ananias went to the house and entered it. Placing his hands on Saul, he said, ‘Brother Saul, the Lord – Jesus, who appeared to you on the road as you were coming here – has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit.’ Immediately, something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and he could see again. He got up and was baptised, and after taking some food, he regained his strength.” (Acts 9:10-19)

Tom Wright makes this comment about our unsung hero: “We know nothing about him except this passage, and it’s enough: that he was a believer, that he knew how to listen for the voice of Jesus, that he was prepared to obey it even though it seemed ridiculously dangerous.” (N.T. Wright, Acts For Everyone) Wright’s words capture why Ananias is my unsung hero. Although we have few recorded words from his lips, his life speaks loud and clear about what it means to follow Jesus. He reminds us that being a disciple is about openness and obedience to Jesus. Ananias was a simple believer who was open to hearing the voice of Jesus and then was prepared to obey it wherever it led and whatever it cost. His life is a reminder to us that openness and obedience to Jesus are the essence of following Jesus.

We see this willingness to hear and obey Jesus in his encounter with Saul. To understand the full significance of what happened on Straight Street, remember that Saul had been carrying out a terror campaign against Christians. There is every chance that Ananias knew people whose death Saul had been responsible for. In all likelihood, Ananias himself was on Saul’s hit list for Damascus. Jesus tells Ananias to go and meet the man responsible for the death and torture of some of his friends and fellow believers and who was out to harm him personally.

 I wonder what I would have done in that situation?

I wonder what my first words would have been to Saul?

The first thing Ananias did was to go to where Saul was. He obeyed Jesus. He obeyed despite the fact he seems to have had worries that it might be a suicide mission. Once he heard Jesus’ words, Ananias was willing to obey whatever the personal cost to himself. Now there is an example that the contemporary church could do with embracing.

I never fail to be deeply moved by what Ananias does and says when he finally encounters Saul. “Placing his hands on Saul, he said, ‘Brother Saul…’” I find that nothing short of incredible.  Ananias embraced Saul, the arch-enemy of believers. The first words that Saul heard from a fellow believer following his conversion was not “killer,” but “brother.”

The only explanation I have for what happened in Judas’ house is that at some point, Ananias had heard Jesus say that his disciples had to love their enemies, so that is what he did. No questions asked. Saul couldn’t see Ananias but, in his words and embrace, I suspect he felt the grace and acceptance of Jesus through his fellow believer’s hands.

As a leader, I wonder whether Ananias’ example suggests I have been guilty of making being a disciple way more complicated than it is? This last year I’ve been caught up in theologizing and strategizing about discipleship, as our church tries to get serious about being and making disciples. But Ananias reminds me that fundamentally, I need to challenge people (and myself) to simply make time to hear Jesus’ voice and then do what he says. (I said it was simple, not easy.)

We are a congregation of ex-pats here in Switzerland; many of our people have stressful jobs that consume time voraciously. It’s a familiar challenge – I think our enemy successfully pulls us into a cycle of busyness which leaves us with little room to be open to hearing Jesus. I have been contemplating whether or not we are obeying Jesus – not because of stubborn disobedience, but because we are not making the time to hear what he is saying. After the Covid restrictions are rolled back and church life goes back to “normal” will that “normal” have enough space built in to allow us time discerning the voice of Jesus?

Does your life? Have you regularly cut out a chunk of time to be open to Jesus? Recently, a powerful revival has broken out at Longhollow Baptist Church in Tennessee. Its pastor, Robbie Galatay, has spoken about how this revival can be traced back to him finally scheduling time to simply be with and be open to Jesus. There is a lesson there for all of us in leadership.

I am in the final phase of my ministry now. In all likelihood, I am never going to be a megachurch pastor whose sermons attract millions of views on YouTube.  Nothing I write will knock My Utmost for His Highest or The Purpose Driven Life off the Christian bestsellers list. A few years after my retirement, I doubt if many people will remember my second name. But as I contemplate that, I come back to my original thought: prominence doesn’t equal significance in the Kingdom of God.

Was Ananias prominent in the early Church? No. But did his ministry have significance? Of course it did! Ananias’ ministry of love and prayer to Saul unleashed into the world a spiritual tornado whose impact is still very much with us. I wonder if Ananias lived to see the impact that Saul-turned-Paul would have? I wonder how many other people Ananias loved, embraced, forgave, and prayed for in his ministry? I wonder what impact they made? His ministry reminds me that my ministry may not have prominence, but in the Kingdom of God it can have a significance I cannot even begin to imagine.

Can I remind you? That’s true for you too, wherever and whomever you minister to.

Featured image courtesy Jon Tyson via Unsplash.

How Church Planting Relies on the Power of Prayer

After my wife and I planted and established a Wesleyan congregation in the Indianapolis area, we shifted gears toward a different mode of reaching people for Jesus. Church planting continued to be our heart, so as a ministry team, we accepted the opportunity to serve as Directors of Church Multiplication for the Great Lakes Region District of The Wesleyan Church. In both settings, we believe that the number one way to enter a community missionally is through prayer.

Prayer and church planting have always gone together. In our strategy, there is little room for action or “doing” without also engaging in the constant work of prayer. In fact, I sometimes say that while some whistle while they work, people in church planting pray while they work.  Before a planter enters a new community, we ask that she first prepare herself with an army of prayer warriors; we actually recommend 500-1000 people committed to regular prayer. Church planting and prayer always go hand in hand.

Part of the way we invest in church multiplication is by training church planters in what that prayer looks like as they prepare to enter a community, because it’s not necessarily obvious. We encourage planters to pray for discernment, wisdom, and humility. This will shape how they engage with their team and their community. Planters have coaches and mentors as well, but praying in this way shapes moments of engagement.

Here are some of the ways we have learned to pray in church planting:

Pray for discernment in sharing faith and vision.

Pray for discernment in spiritual conversations.

Pray for discernment for receptive people.

Pray for wisdom to contextualize ministry.

Pray for wisdom in discipleship that makes disciples who make more disciples.

Pray for humility to enter a community as a learner, servant, and witness.

We believe that when you enter a community through prayer, you enter in stride with the Holy Spirit.

Prayer & Fasting: When Flawed Humans Follow Jesus

The apostle Peter is one of my favorite people in the Bible. He reminds me of me. Following Jesus is not always easy for me; from the very beginning, Peter seems to have experienced a similar sense of struggling as he sought to follow. Peter was a searcher with a good heart. He stumbles but tries his very best to follow. He’s always open to growing in his relationship with Jesus, even if that growth involves some pain. Peter was full of emotion, giving himself completely to Jesus at one moment, but then fearfully retreating from Jesus the next.

In Matthew 16:13-16, we read, “When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, ‘Who do people say the Son of Man is?’ They replied, ‘Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’ ‘But what about you?’ he asked. ‘Who do you say I am?’ Simon Peter answered, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.'” (NIV)

What did Peter proclaim about Jesus? But now in Matthew 16:21-22, we see, “From that time on Jesus began to explain to his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life. Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. ‘Never, Lord!’ he said. ‘This shall never happen to you!'” How is Peter responding now?

Peter was genuine in all of his interactions with Jesus. He boldly declared his belief that Jesus was the Messiah (Matthew 16:16), and then immediately questioned and chastised Jesus for talking about the suffering that lay on the horizon (Matthew 16:22). That last bit may have been bumbling and inappropriate, but it was genuine. Peter genuinely offered Jesus his entire being – the good and the bad. 

We read about these contrasts between the good and bad sides of Peter throughout the gospels. He simply didn’t always know what it meant to follow Jesus. When Peter witnessed the astonishing event of Jesus talking with Moses and Elijah on the mountain, all he could think to do was to offer to build shrines, places for each of them to live. (Matthew 17:1-11, Mark 9:2-9, Luke 9:28-36). When he sees Jesus walking on the water, he boldly climbs out of the boat, seemingly full of confident faith, yet when the wind and waves appear too much, he flounders in fear. (Matthew 14:22-33)

Washing another person’s feet was a common way of expressing hospitality and servanthood in the first century. Jesus washed the disciples’ feet on the night he was arrested. (John 13:1-9) When it was Peter’s turn, he felt completely unworthy, so he declined. And yet, when Jesus responded that it was necessary in order for Peter to be a part of him, Peter’s love poured forth: “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” (John 13:9, NRSV)

Peter genuinely desired to follow Jesus, even if he didn’t always know exactly what that meant; and he was willing to offer his entire self, even his shortcomings.

 The question for each of us is, how willing are we to offer our entire selves to God – including our shortcomings?

Peter was willing to offer Jesus his entire self – shortcomings and all – because intuitively he knew that Jesus had created safe space between them. His intuition was correct. Jesus had created safe space, because Jesus understood Peter. Jesus knew how truly human Peter was. He knew that deep down in his heart, Peter desired to follow him, even though Peter’s understanding and capabilities were dramatically limited.

Jesus knew Peter well enough to call him the rock upon which he would build his church (Matthew 16:17-19); yet also knew him well enough to predict accurately that before the rooster crowed twice, Peter would deny three times that he even knew him at all. (Mark 14:26-31)

We are all like Peter. We too are truly human, with all of the frailties and limitations that brings. Just as he understood Peter, Jesus also understands us. Jesus knows that there are times when we want to follow; there are other times when we choose to shy away. But Jesus’ call to Peter was to follow, not at a distance—not in the shadows, afraid of what might happen next—but to move into the light and follow boldly, whatever came his way.

This is Jesus’ call to us as well. Jesus knows how limited our resources are. He knows that life is full of choices, temptations, and complex situations where we become confused and frightened. Yet he desires our faith to be real and authentic, and so he calls us to follow him anyway, closely, not at a distance. 

We are in the midst of Lent, working our way toward the week of Jesus’ crucifixion and death. As you fast and pray, reflect on the idea of a “safe space” between you and God. Do you sense the safety of that space? If not, I pray you will use your time of prayer to bring that experience honestly before God, opening yourself to the movement of the Holy Spirit in response to your need.

Jesus would go on to say, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross, and follow me. If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it.”  (Matthew 16:24-25, NLT)

During this next month, use your time of prayer and fasting to become more aware of the ways in which Jesus may be calling you to step out of the boat. And then step out in courage, knowing that Jesus understands that you are fully human, with all the frailties and limitations (but also with all the creativity and boldness) that brings.

Join the World Methodist Evangelism Prayer and Fasting Community here.

Adapted from original publication at World Methodist Evangelism; used with permission.

Featured image courtesy Emiliano Arias via Unsplash.

Lenten Love: Make Things Better

The Lenten season has started. Lent is six weeks (excluding Sundays) dedicated to prayer, fasting, and reflection to prepare for the grand celebration of Christ conquering death and his resurrection.

When I think of Lent, I am reminded that Easter is coming. We will soon celebrate the victory of Jesus over death through his resurrection and the gifts of forgiveness of sins and eternal life to all those who believe in him. In light of this, this Lenten season invites us to a particular time of reflection about our relationship with God and how we practice what we say we believe. As we are reminded of the meaning and purpose of our faith, we are also confronted with the realization that we may not be living up to the expectations of Jesus’ teachings.

Are we living up to Jesus’ teachings? Are we there yet? If you are like me, then you are far from it. We are trying; we stumble now and then, but we are not in denial, and we are making progress, even if it is just a little bit every day. With this in mind, I invite you to a serious and responsible self-reflection about how you are living your faith, but most importantly, how your relationship is with God and with one another.

Henri Nouwen described Lent as a time to refocus, to reenter a place of truth, to find ourselves in God once again. This is precisely what I want us to do this Lenten season: to find our place in God and affirm our identity as disciples of Jesus Christ.

Let’s begin with a simple question: how are you observing Lent?

Are you fasting, reading Scripture, praying? Great! That’s what the church traditionally has done for many centuries. Lent is a time of faith renewal as much as it may be a time of reconciliation with God. Fasting, reading Scripture, and praying are means of grace that help us be strong in our faith and close to God. So if you are practicing this, that is wonderful; keep doing it!

Today’s challenge is to go beyond a personal renewal of our faith and reconciliation with God. What if we commit to practice our faith to make the world better: more loving, more kind, compassionate, truthful, and empty of hate and evil? What if we show our faith to others in ways that make life better for them? What if we are a tangible blessing to others?

One of the most prominent critiques I make is that often, we are primarily known for what we are against than for what we offer. Our faith is more about how we make things better for all people, just like Jesus did. With this in mind, here is an idea of how we can observe Lent this year. The reading from Romans 12:9-21 using The Message translation encourages us like this:

“Don’t fake your love, be real. Run away from evil; cling to good. Be good friends who love deeply. If you see someone in need, do something about it. Don’t be a cause for others to trip over but bless those even when they disagree with you. Laugh with your friends when they’re happy; share tears when they’re down. Discover beauty in everyone. Don’t insist on getting even; that’s not for you to do, but be generous in your goodness to all people. And last, don’t let evil get the best of you; get the best of evil by doing good.“

As you can see, in this Scripture, Paul describes how Christians are to love each other and how we are to engage in our relationships with others. Paul explains that Christian behavior is doing everything for all people’s common good.

Our text doesn’t just say, “Love others more,” but it describes specific behaviors for loving others that Jesus himself modeled. This helps us see that Christian love is not just being nice to people; Christian love has a moral orientation toward the good. When we show love toward someone, we are moving them toward God’s goodness, so they too may find themselves in God. That is what Christian witness is, both during the Lenten season and throughout the year.

Since our faith is less about what we don’t do and much more about how we make things better for all people – just like Jesus did – let’s make part of our Lent resolutions to bring people to Jesus by practicing genuine love and showing generous goodness.

Featured image courtesy Ante Gudelj on Unsplash.

The Snake Still Slithers

While America watched the horrors at our United States Capitol building on January 6, 2021, hurting and crying over the awful scenes unfolding on our screens, tumultuous laughter could be heard from one who some of us deny even exists. One elected representative evacuated that day even described his experience with unusual words for a politician: “it was like looking at evil.”  If you don’t believe Satan is alive and well, believe it now. He is the prince of this world, and what a chance God took when he set that snake on the loose! He has already been defeated; Jesus took care of that on the cross. He has no power now, except the power we decide to give him. When Jesus cried from the cross, “It is finished,” did you think he meant his life? But Jesus was raised from the dead and sits at the right hand of the Father.

So what did Jesus mean? What was finished? Satan’s power. Jesus meant, “He lost. We won!” But Satan failed to get the memo; he moves ruthlessly through his days, a wimp of who he used to be, trying in vain to continue his deception. As far as our lives are concerned, he is only as successful as we allow. His mission is to wreak havoc any way he can. He does not care who is embarrassed, hurt, mistreated, or slandered as he sets about to fulfill his purposes on this earth: turning every last one of us away from God’s glorious kingdom of light and pulling us into the destruction and darkness he loves.

Someone has said, “The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he did not exist.” I bought into that when I was younger. I thought he was simply a wind of evil that floats among us all, influencing bad things to happen. A good friend of mine echoes my thoughts during those days. “I thought Satan wasn’t actually real – until I met him face to face during my divorce.”

Yes, Satan is real. He is alive and well, and if we know this, we need to get ourselves into God’s Word, where we can not only see him described, but  also recognize that he is a has-been. You and I have to stand against his spirit of self-destruction. Biblical teaching reminds us that, “Greater is He [Jesus] that is in you, than he [Satan] that is in the world.” (1 John 4:4)

Satan is clearly our enemy, our adversary. He was dancing while the Capitol was being damaged, lives taken, injuries and trauma inflicted. “Be watchful. Your adversary, the Devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” (1 Peter 5:8) Look at some of the horrific acts he has handled. You will not understand this unless you have made a decision that Satan is our real enemy. We can all point to names of those we consider to be the real problem, and we might be right, but look beyond those names and watch how Satan instigates every act of darkness. And remember that he is always a liar.

“Now the serpent was craftier that any other beast of the field that the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, ‘Did God actually say, “You shall not eat of any tree in the garden?”’” (Genesis 3:1)

When Eve ate the fruit and offered some to Adam, they both willfully chose to listen to the liar instead of their Creator. Before that moment, they were happy. But on taking a bite, they lost the innocence with which they were born. Quickly, they made clothes of leaves to cover up. 

As glass was shattering, doors were smashing and anger was exploding at our Capitol building, Satan was propped contentedly on a tree near the Capitol, slithering from limb to limb and laughing hysterically as one by one, scuffling people broke doors and windows, feeling they had the right to do whatever they wanted. “It’s our building,” some chanted, excusing themselves from the mayhem they caused.

And the snake slithered on.

Of course, Satan had long been after America. I am appalled at the divisions in our country. I can’t imagine how I would feel if one I loved had been mistreated or killed on our streets. In fact, for a while, the only redeemable picture from the brutalization of our Capitol was the realization that for a short period, members of both parties were on the same side, binding together, helping each other escape to safety, fearing for themselves and each other – and praying. If we could have gotten into the hearts of our elected officials, we would have heard many prayers being spoken silently. 

The night of January sixth, Inside Edition anchor Debra Norville ended the evening with, “God bless America.” The message is not a subtle one. America needs to return to the God we ask to bless us.

Had we been able to actually see a real snake crawling on a tree near the Capitol, we would have noticed one very real, very telling detail. The snake’s head is bashed in. He slithers with a wound. He circles with a crooked head, smashed at the victory over death by our strong Warrior, Jesus Christ. God’s words to Satan after the fall in the garden are telling. “And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed. He will crush your head, and you will strike his heel.” (Genesis 3:16)

Yes, the snake still slithers. But he is defeated. When he starts attacking you, repeat the name of Jesus, for, “At the name of Jesus, Satan has to flee.” (James 4:7) God is the ruler yet! Live in these uncertain days in the clear and certain authority of your Redeemer, Jesus Christ.

Featured image courtesy David Clode on Unsplash.