Contact

"Most of my struggles in the Christian life circle around the same two themes: why God doesn't act the way we want God to, and why I don't act the way God wants me to. Prayer is the precise point where those themes converge." Yancey continues, "Deep down I believed that contact with God should be fulfilling and even transforming, yet I rarely found it so. I assumed I must be doing something wrong."

Deep sigh...how to begin again writing about this subject of prayer. This question nails it pretty well for me although I tend to spend more time on the second half: Why I don't act the way God wants me to. In the work of Christ on the cross including his resurrection, which I believe despite my doubts, I am told that my "old man" has died and my "new man" is alive; that I have been transformed, changed, remade, born again. Many who challenge the Christian faith snicker at that last one, born again, at least in part because of the trivial way it has been used by some who profess it. Some who have professed it the loudest have ended up making a mockery of themselves and the faith, but nevertheless, that's what is supposed to happen.

So when I don't feel transformed, changed, remade or born again, I assume it's me, not God. And since God does not change, I'm the one who needs adjusting. But how? In the book Birthright by David Needham, he challenges the reader to look at infinity. As we've all done at one time or another, venture out on a moonless, clear night and stare deeply into the cosmos, not just to pick out the Big Dipper but to begin to imagine the breadth, depth, height and heart of God Almighty. Stay in that moment until you know you simply cannot comprehend it all, or in all honesty, even a little. In our ultimate smallness and finiteness, we see His enormity and endlessness, and for the briefest of moments, as more questions and doubts flood our consciousness, we get it. He did this. He IS this. And as small as I am, He cares for me.

(View this in full-screen with as much amplitude possible)
Opening Scene from the movie Contact

Why Pray?

Yancey writes: If I had to answer the question "Why pray?" in one sentence, it would be "Because Jesus did."

Actually Mr. Yancey, "Because Jesus did" is not a complete sentence. It's a dependent clause...but I digress.

WWJD? During the last decade we've all seen this question on t-shirts or discussed on talk shows. What would Jesus do? Seems like Jesus--son of God and lamb of God, creator, sustainer, mediator, advocate and very God of very God--thought it was very important to pray when he was co-mingled for a brief time directly with humanity. Some of his prayers were instructive, like the one we call the Lord's prayer. Sometimes it was intercessory as in John 17:20 where he says “My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message." He prayed in a solitary place in Mark 1:35. He spoke directly to his Father in John 17:1 that he might be "glorified" and in that glorify the Father. But the prayer he spoke that I identify with the most is from Mark 14:36, “Abba, Father,” he said, “everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” (Emphasis added.)

I don't mean to be disrespectful but Jesus really had to be tuned into his Father. In some cosmic mystery, they were One and yet separate. Many believe that separation was even total for a brief time when he cried out from the cross “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” Why have you forsaken me? suggesting even Jesus must have felt abandoned, out of his Father's will and alone.

Of course, nothing I've endured in this life comes close to the Cross. In fact those words look silly to me as I write them. More than silly...ludicrous. But I have felt abandoned, out of my Father's will and alone--alone with my cup of trials, guilt and shame. And in those greatest moments of despair when I am most alone and at the end of my "self," I've pleaded with Him to take my cup from me, suspecting in my heart that He may not and instead ask of me to take up His cross and follow Him.

Thank you for the Cross, thank you for the Cross, 
Lord, thank you for the price you paid.
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God, You know...

How would you finish this sentence? "Prayer is not a matter of giving God information about our needs. Instead, prayer is ________________________."

Yes, that's it. Prayer IS. Really, it's that simple. Remember back in elementary school (grammar school for us really old ones) when you first learned about "is"? "Is" is the present tense "state of being." State of being? Talk about a definition being more confusing than the word itself. Maybe Bill Clinton had it right. "That depends on what you happen to believe 'is' is" or something like that.

Prayer offers the same kind of Bill Clinton-ish conundrum for me. It may be easier to define what it is not rather than what it is.  I've read before from Philip Yancey where he says, "Prayer is not a matter of giving God new information." I can even see him saying that with a little grin and modest chiding mixed in.  How silly we humans are. In our attempt to bare our souls to the one who made our souls, we act like we're on a long distance phone call talking about the weather rather than speaking to and expecting to hear from the One who already knows our darkest secrets, deepest pain and illusive dreams. In Matthew 6:8 Jesus says, "Your Father knows what you need before you ask him." But James says in James 4:2, "You have not because you ask not." We're told elsewhere to pray without ceasing and in another place that even our groans can be taken as prayer.

When I hear about a new school shooting or how a Nigerian immigrant was murdered on the streets of Charlotte by her pimp boyfriend, how else can I respond? I groan, sometimes audibly, sometimes silently. I don't need words. God knows. I'm just finding out. He's known all along. He's writing the drama; I am merely a player learning my lines...or forgetting my lines...or mixing up my lines.

So I am back to the beginning. Prayer IS. A state of being. Our constancy with him. Our recognition of his direction at all times. Our willingness to respond to his ever-present prompts.

My Constant Sorrow

Mention some experiences with prayer that remain disappointing or frustrating to you.

When I began this challenge of mine, to follow a prayer journaling guide, I vowed to answer each question and not skip. The purpose was to build discipline as a writer. But I wanted to skip this one. In fact as of last night I was determined to dodge this one and had already turned a page or two in the guide to see if the next questions might unlock something less unsettling. But the truth is, now is the time to share this disappointment which I call, after the song, My Constant Sorrow.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GDA708XlFIo&feature=related

Last summer I received a long, long email from my son, a grown man with a family of his own. In this email he enumerated a long, long list of my failures as a father, some going back to when he was very, very young and some as recent as my last email to him. At the end of this long, long list, he gave me three ways to respond, and then explained how if I chose any of the three, I would be wrong. I was being disowned by my own son, my only son. I was being divorced from his family. He didn't have the time, energy or need to work on our relationship. He was through.

As one might imagine, this was devastating news. It's not that there wasn't some truth in his list of charges, but taken as an entirety, it certainly was not a fair picture of me as a father. I felt falsely accused even as I felt shame, remorse and sadness for those items which were in fact, or in his perception, true. Why have you forsaken me?

In the beginning I'm sure I prayed everyday--for my son, his wife, their marriage, their children, my grandchildren, to soften their hearts, that they know and show the Lord's forgiveness, that they know joy but mostly that they not forsake me in their lives. I waited for some sign, an email, a phone message or even a text. Over the next eight months the silence has continued. I've sent emails with no reply, gifts with no acknowledgment, and prayers seemingly with no results.

Lord, my son is a follower of yours. He says he has learned to deal with his anger but his words were so filled with rage. He seems unable to forgive. He is unwilling to even talk. Mine is a prayer without ceasing yet has no reply. A constant sorrow.

Last year my father died. What I miss the most is the sound of his voice. In the same year, I seem to have lost my son. What I miss most is the sound of his voice. God, I miss them both.

A High Priest Forever

Since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are--yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. Hebrews 4:14-16

What are some weaknesses in your own life, for which you need Christ's mercy and grace?

Is this another trick question, Mr. Yancey? Are you really asking me to pinpoint some personal weaknesses that need to be washed in the blood of the Lamb? Is there a blog long enough or a band width wide enough? OK, you said "some," not "all." So I'll pick three: being a husband, being a father and being a leader.

My daughter asked me the other day whether God was really sitting on a throne all the time, which is a really significant and thoughtful question when you think about it. I attempted to answer, thinking about the pictures we have in our minds of, say, King Henry sitting there majestically as a conqueror or two stroll in from the outer reaches of the territory with some bag of riches or golden ring to fling at the base of the throne. The King is holding court; he is receiving visitors and he is settling debts. But obviously, the king doesn't sit on his throne all day long. He'd need a break. After all, a king, especially like King Henry, had many more personal things on his mind. That's what is so amazing about this scripture from Hebrews. We may come to His throne of grace confidently and on our time-table, not His. At our beck and call, He waits, ready to open court and mount His throne to hear our weary cries for mercy, ready to settle our debts (forgive our sins) and dispense His grace.

So, back to my weaknesses:
As a husband, I do not often "love my wife as Christ loved the church." I wish I did but this is one to lay at the base of the throne and ask God's mercy. Jesus was willing to lay down his very life for those he loved; I often cannot even say "I'm sorry."

As a father, I "exasperate my children," which I'm not supposed to do. My anger can snap to attention as fast as Gomer Pyle. Raising children, as I have now attempted for nearly 40 years, needs His grace, His provision. I cannot do it alone.

As a leader, I have not always led with integrity. I've let personal idols get in the way and have not sought the voice of God but relied on my own God-given talents, thinking they were really mine.

But I love the way God works. Just yesterday I pulled out the words to a song I'd written recently and began to apply a new chord sequence. I had written the lyrics almost verbatim from Hebrews 6 and had titled it A High Priest Forever and then today this writing assignment. Hmmm.

Thank you, Father.

Amen.

Thanks for the Sloppy Joes

Why does prayer rank so high on surveys of theoretical importance and so low on surveys of actual satisfaction?

We were sitting around the dinner table the other night getting ready to enjoy our evening meal together (he said euphemistically) when I asked my youngest daughter to pray. She began reluctantly, "God, thanks...for our family...and thanks...for the food. Amen." Then I said something I wish I hadn't, "You were just petitioning the creator of the universe, the One who sustains all things. Do you really think that prayer got His attention?" My question got no answer nor should it have. It was a lousy question and I need to tell her I'm sorry.

Like my prayers are better? Like I choose better words or because mine are longer? What I was failing to recognize in my daughter's prayer was that already at her young age, there's a disconnect between that "theoretical importance" and the "actual satisfaction." She's wondering, probably, does it really matter? Is it real? Does He hear this or any other prayer? Even if He hears me, will it make any difference? Won't we eat the sloppy joes and won't they taste good even if we don't thank Him? Did He really provide the sloppy joes?

OK, those are not my daughter's questions. I am attributing my doubts to her, but I think they may reflect some of the discontent many people experience with prayer. Prayer should matter. Jesus said, "Pray like this" and then gave us the Lord's prayer. Paul said to "pray without ceasing." Jesus also warned about praying like hypocrites.  I am pretty good with words normally and so is my daughter. As a 12-year-old she reads and writes way beyond her years. But she struggles with prayer just like I do.

Heavenly Father, Abba, 
Can you help reduce the gap between how we know we should pray and how we actually do? Instead of doing all the talking, might we learn to listen more? Please help us so our words don't get in the way.

Breaking Bread

Yancey writes, "The word company, as in "keeping company with God," simply means "with bread," and comes from the ancient and universal tradition of hospitality. We connect with others by inviting them into our homes, by breaking bread and sharing everyday life.


Take some time to reflect on what is working and what isn't in your efforts to "keep company" with God. How can you invite God into your life and yourself into God's? Write in the form of a prayer, if you like.

When I invite someone to my home, I prepare, I think in advance, I try to see my home through the eyes of a visitor. Lord, help me to prepare myself for You. Let me view myself with "visitor eyes."

When I attend a meeting, I anticipate who will be there and what might be accomplished by our time together. Lord, help me to come away from our meetings together refreshed and with new purpose. Help me discover Your agenda.

When I invite someone to take a walk with me, I am looking for quiet company, just a time to stroll and take the conversation in many directions. Lord, help me to walk with You when the path You choose is different from my own.

When I plan a meal, I anticipate what the others breaking bread together with me will enjoy and I try to please them. Help me to bring You joy, as silly as that sounds.

When I anticipate a difficult conversation, I plan my words carefully and recognize that even my best intentions may go array. Help me to trust You when I am misunderstood by others.

As the song says, "Let me feel Your presence."