Posts Tagged ‘prayer’

A challenging passage

October 5, 2009

Jesus wants breakfast. The fig tree is covered in leaves but there are no figs. He tells it that it will never bear fruit. It dies immediately.  The disciples are amazed at the power Jesus displays. He says that they can do it. He ends by saying “If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.”

I’ve summarized Matthew 21:18-22.  The story is also told in Mark 11:12-25. There, it takes 24 hours for the tree to die, and Mark adds that it wasn’t the season for figs.

Which is most troubling to you in the synopsis above?

  • that Jesus killed a fig tree because, it seems, the tree inconvenienced him,
  • that it wasn’t even the season for figs, so it was an irrational act,
  • that Jesus says if you believe enough, you’ll get what you pray for, or
  • that the accounts can’t agree about the very timing of the events.

Each point can be challenging to those of us who are following Jesus, who want to be like him. Either he is cranky, agriculturally clueless, out of touch with our experience of prayer, or part of textual conflict that we have to ignore or reconcile.

I understand the challenge. But just because it makes no sense to our sensibilities doesn’t mean we can avoid this passage.

At the time, the disciples weren’t concerned about why Jesus was killing a tree; they were stunned that he could make a tree die. Though we are familiar with Roundup, we would be stunned, too.  In response, Jesus invites the disciples to believe that their words, with God’s affirmation, do things.

I know that we often pray and nothing happens. But what if Jesus is right? What if we could move mountains?

What if we asked with confidence…that it was what Jesus wanted?

really good seats

September 10, 2009

If you want the good seats, you have to get in line early. You have to spend the night. You have to pay extra to get really close.

Unless, of course, you are going to a messy show.

If it’s a messy show, where the person up front sprays water or smashes watermelons, you want to sit back far enough to be safe. There is a very fine line between “up close” and “in your face.”

For Mrs. Zebedee, the mother of James and John, the goal was to be as close as possible. She asked Jesus if her boys could have the best seats in the house, right next to Jesus. (It’s interesting to me that she was pretty sure that Jesus was going to have a kingdom.)

She missed the previous conversation. She missed the part about Jesus being killed when he got to Jerusalem. And her boys apparently hadn’t filled her in.

Look at this as a time of prayer. The mother kneels. She requests blessing for her children.

Jesus was pretty gentle with the three of them. He could have criticized the request, but he didn’t. Instead, he led them in a conversation that they probably didn’t understand. He asked if they could drink from the cup he was going to drink from. Probably imagining a royal goblet, they agreed. Probably talking about a cup of suffering, Jesus agreed with them and then said that the seating arrangements were up to the host of the party, not him.

They were going to end up in the messy seats, the ones right next to the blood, James within a couple years. John, late in his life, was going to get a preview of the royal cup and the throne.

Her request was answered. God’s way. Not hers.

desperate confidence

July 3, 2009

The woman’s daughter was sick.  Demon-sick. That’s sick.

She, like any mother in that situation, was willing to consider anything and anyone.  Even if it meant a foreigner.

Jesus was heading out of town, taking some time to get away from the constant Pharisaical scrutiny. He headed to the Mediterranean coast, north of Israel.

And so we see the intersection of the vacationing celebrity preacher and the desperate mother. She approaches and, using the right title (“Lord, Son of David”) asked for help.

Silence.

Exactly what many people find when they ask God for help. They have a need, they hear nothing. And so they give up on God.But she didn’t give up. Apparently she kept asking.

The disciples try to protect their vacation from this annoyance. It would be nice to think they were protecting Jesus, but the text suggested that her requests were bothering them.

Jesus finally speaks. His answer speaks of the target audience of his message (Israel). The woman persists: “Lord, help me.”

She is respectfully persistent. She isn’t rude (she kneels down, calls him “Lord), knows that she has no standing as a non-Jew, but she has nothing to lose.

And then Jesus engages her in conversation. They exchange a brilliant play of metaphor, which she handles lightly and quickly.

And Jesus heals her daughter.

Think of his responses: silence, principle, veiled insult (dogs). And she persists through it all.

Why?

Because she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jesus was the only one able to heal her daughter. Because her daughter needed healing. Because this wasn’t about a show or a miracle, this was life/death. Because she knew Jesus was a person, and people can be addressed.

I seldom have that kind of persistent, conversational, desperately confident faith.

I’m like a disciple.

after it goes great

June 17, 2009

Jesus has a great day.

He talks to 20,000 people about his dad. He talks to his dad about feeding 20,000 people. He talks to his followers about picking up the leftovers after the meal that he and his dad had prepared for the 20,000 people.

It was, by any measure, a wonderful day.

So what does he do to celebrate? Have an after-party? Take a nap? Sit around telling stories with his friends? Let the crowd remind him of how great he is?

Nope.

He sends his closest followers away. He gets rid of the crowd. And he heads up a mountainside by the lake to talk with his dad. All night.

It’s the last thing that most of us would do. We would deserve to do something else. We would be thrilled by the success of the event. But I think for Jesus, there wasn’t an event. This wasn’t a performance, planned with script and moves and actors and tricks. This day was not on the agenda, at least from a human perspective.

Jesus had planned a day of solitude. His relative John had been killed by Herod. He knew that he was on Herod’s list, too. So Jesus headed for the hills to get away.

When he got to the beach at the foot of the hills, he found a crowd of 20,000 people. At the end of himself, from a human perspective, he felt compassion. He preached. He fed. He forgot about how he felt and took care of the people.

Then he took care of himself. He spent the night talking with someone who understood him, who cared about him, who knew the plan, the pressure, the risks, the rewards. He spent time with his dad.

When it goes well, do you get alone…or do you get with God?

learning to say no

May 13, 2009

“Every day, asking God for guidance, say no to something.”

There is a place for saying no. There are things that are good but not best. There are things that are not good at all. Learning to follow Jesus means learning to say no to both kinds of things.

It is hard to say no. And we make it harder by picking what we think that God wants us to say no too, and then making a big deal of telling other people what those things are. “We” have generated long – and different – ists of what people who follow Jesus shouldn’t do. It gets confusing.

In Titus 2:11-14, Paul helps with that discernment a bit. He says that the grace of God that brings salvation teaches us to say no to ungodliness and worldly passions. There is a process of learning as we go. There is an image of being instructed by God about what is “not God.”

“When you do that, it’s not what I would do. When you demean other people, when you demean yourself, remember that I gave myself up for you. When you want take the glory for yourself rather than pointing to me, remember that you didn’t rescue you, I did. When you are ready to give up on someone ever understanding, remember that I don’t give up, not even on you. When you want to indulge yourself, let me show you how to not do that.”

There is an image in this passage of schooling, of teaching, of guiding, of relationship. We do have to say no. There are boundaries to acceptable behavior. But we learn in relationship, not in requirements.

So starting in the relationship, which we’ve described here and here, say no today.

“Every day, asking God for guidance, say no to something.”

Jesus knows what it is like

May 12, 2009

“Every day, say to yourself, ‘Jesus knows what it’s like to be a mom.’”

That is the second of five doable actions that came out of a sermon on Titus 2:11-14.

One of the things that often stops us in prayer and belief is that we think that God can’t understand us. And I understand that concern. I frequently have a hard time asking something of someone who doesn’t understand, who has never had to face what I am facing.

We read that we have a someone to talk to that has been tempted in every way we have. And that helps us. But we still can wonder.

And then we start looking at details.

Look at how Jesus washed the feet of the guys.  Look at how he brought children into the circle of the guys and said, “you have to take care of these children, you have to protect them, you have to learn from them.” Look at how he looked at Jerusalem and partially quoting Isaiah said, “you know how a hen at the end of the day in the face of great and destructive danger covers her babies with her wings so that the rain and the danger will kill the hen before harming the chicks? That’s how much I love Jerusalem.”

Look at how he sacrificed himself.

When I think generally about mothers, I think about that kind of caring and self-sacrifice. So it’s possible that Jesus actually does know what it’s like to be a mom. And when in the middle of frustration and struggles and problems in dealing with children and people and self, it helps to talk with someone who understands.

“Every day, say to yourself, ‘Jesus knows what it’s like to be a mom (and whatever my role in life is, too).’”

Sometimes you have to reach out.

April 18, 2009

Two women were healed. One was a child, one was an adult. One had lost blood, the other had lost life. One was well-off. The other had spent everything.

 

And Jesus healed them both.

 

The child couldn’t speak for herself. She was dead. Her dad, a synagogue leader, a highly spiritual lay person, came to Jesus on her behalf.

 

The adult couldn’t speak for herself. She was a woman. There was no one to speak for her, so she got close to Jesus herself.

 

The child was at the center of a tragedy, though she didn’t know it. There was a funeral happening already. Her dad was desperate, as only the parent of a child who has died can be. Though he knew the risk to his reputation for looking for Jesus, he didn’t care. He just wanted her back.

 

The adult was at the center of a tragedy, though only she knew it. She was ceremonially unclean. She knew the risk of touching anyone, knew that she would make them unclean as well. She didn’t care. She just wanted her life back.

 

The child couldn’t do anything. That’s why the dad said, “if you will come and touch her with your hand.”

The adult couldn’t expect anything. That’s why she said, “if only I can touch his coat.”

 

And Jesus healed them both.

 

I wish I knew exactly what we are supposed to do with these stories. I wish I knew how to tell when to reach out and when to have someone else intercede. I wish I knew why Jesus healed these two women and not many people I know.

 

But I do know this: Jesus wants to have people talk to him and to reach out for him and to believe that he can do the unbelievable.

7 lessons to learn from sleepy disciples

April 8, 2009

Some Holy Week notes on Matthew 26:36-46

1. The leader keeps the vision clear, because the disciples don’t. Disciples are learners. Though they know increasingly much, they still don’t know everything. Jesus knew what the evening was about. The disciples didn’t. It’s what leaders learn to do.

2. Even earnest followers fall asleep when their stomachs are full. If you want to stay awake, you have to plan.

3. Even people close to Jesus don’t always see his heart. Peter, James, and John were the disciples closest to Jesus. If anyone should have been able to read him, they should have. Matthew makes it clear that even before he left them behind to go and pray, Jesus was showing signs of anguish. But there isn’t any evidence that they noticed.

4. Jesus stays in relationship with people who fall asleep when they should be praying. The first time Jesus found them sleeping, he awakened them. The second time, he let them sleep. The third time, he awakened them again because it was time to go. He wasn’t angry, however. He seems to have understood. Which is important to people who fall asleep while reading the Bible. Or praying. Or writing blog posts.

5. Sometimes you don’t know how close the end is going to be. The disciples fell asleep, not realizing that this was the night before Jesus was going to die. They may have assumed they would have plenty of time.

6. Jesus invited the disciples to follow His example in praying. He had gone away to pray lots of times. This time, he only goes a short way. And he encourages the disciples to pray while he is praying.

7. Jesus loved losers. Even in the hour before he’s betrayed, Jesus cares for and about the disciples. Most people would despair or get angry. He doesn’t.

pray, pray, pray

April 3, 2009

[This is a First Friday post by Paul Merrill]

The Apostle Paul said,

“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.” (Philippians 4:6)

When I was a kid, I memorized this in the King James Version, which says, “Be anxious for nothing…” I guess I like that better.

So here are some very quick ideas for you on when to pray about everything:

1.  Pray when you’re in the car alone. (Turn off the radio.)

2.  Pray when you’re in the car with someone else.

3.  Pray when God brings a friend in need to mind. Right then.

4.  Pray when you wake up before the alarm.

5.  Thank God when something bad happens.

6.  Thank God when something good happens.

7.  Pray when it starts snowing to thank God for that beauty.

8.  Pray when it’s raining to thank God for the land getting water. (Pray like a farmer.)

9.  Pray when it’s sunny to thank God for the energy plants are getting.

10 . Pray when there’s a huge storm to thank God for His great power.

11.  Pray before the meal to thank God for the food.

12.  Pray after the meal to ask God for health. (The food may not have been that healthy!)

13.  Pray when you see someone you think is beyond hope,  for God to bless that person.

14.  Pray when you watch TV, for God to touch the lives of those you see on screen.

15. Ask God to provide for what you need. God knows if it’s really what you need, so don’t worry about figuring out whether it’s a want or a need. Just ask.

16. Pray for your boss.

17. Pray for those who work for or with you.

18. Pray when you get up.

19. Pray when you lay down.

20. Pray when you can’t think of what to write.

In short, “Never stop praying.” (1 Thessalonians 5:17)

Waiting is hard

March 16, 2009

We all have stories about God not answering our prayer. We asked for help on the test. We failed. We asked for healing for the child. She died. We asked “why?” We didn’t hear anything.

Given our experience, many of us read these words that Jesus said and we cringe:

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened. [Matthew 7:7-8]

And so we learn to use qualifiers. Or we don’t pray at all.

But what if Jesus actually was telling the truth? What if “everyone” really means “every one?” What if every time we ask we receive an answer but we aren’t listening?

A 2-year-old is riding in a stroller through a store asking for that. And that. And that. If the parent keeps moving past all of the items, we may get upset.

Except the store isn’t Toys’R'Us, it is Lowe’s. And the aisle isn’t toys, it’s pesticides. And the quiet parent already told the child that they were fixing the sandbox.

With focus, the parent gets to the bags of sand. Which are not at all exciting to a 2-year-old.

The journey through the rest of the story is loud and the ride home is sleepy, after the tears subside.

After a nap, during which the sand goes in the box, the child is taken outside and placed in the sand, where the parent also sits.

The requests of a 2-year-old for what would kill are often refused.

The requests of a 2-year-old for what gives life are often granted.

But two-year olds can’t read the labels, don’t know the plans.

They must trust.