SHAMELESS AUDACITY

I have to admit that some times I get overwhelmed at the bigness of things, the complexity of things, and the magnitude of the issues before me.  Truth is, some times I don’t even know how to pray.  It is an ongoing concern in my heart but, thankfully, I am learning not to let it get to me too much.  O. Hallesby said in his work on prayer, “Helplessness is the real secret and the impelling power of prayer.”  

In the sixteen verses of Psalm 42 and 43, the writer talks to himself and says, “Why are you in despair, O my soul?  And why have you become disturbed within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him for the help of His presence” (Ps. 42: 5, 11, and Psalm 43:5).

I’ve asked that “despair” question once in while; maybe you have, too.  But aren’t you glad despair isn’t Lord.  Jesus is Lord.  His presence is with us in the good times and bad, in the up times and down, on the mountain and in the valley, when the world is crashing in on us and when we are so thrilled in our walk with God that we just about can't contain the joy.  Thank God for His abiding, never leaving or forsaking us, presence.  

So, like so many of you, I just keep on praying and lifting impossible situations to God. In His keeping grace I'm learning to keep seeking His face.  I keep calling on His name.  When despair raises it’s ugly head, and it does once in while, doesn't it, I seek to pass it along to Jesus and let Him embrace it by His presence, and expectantly remember God “is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us” (Ephesians 3:20).

I used to read a lot of information about prayer.  I read books and sermons and articles and essays on prayer.  I listened to tapes and Cds, and, in more recent days, have logged on to YouTube to set-in on teachings about prayer.  Some time ago, however, I had a moment when it was almost as if the Holy Spirit whispered into my ear, “Quit reading so much about prayer and just talk to me.”  It was a jolting moment that changed things for me.

I am not by nature a man of faith.  My nature is fear, carefulness, and caution.  It would never occur to me, like it did to Peter, to actually get out of a boat and walk on water to Jesus. God has had to do a lot of cleansing in me to get me out of myself and into Him, never mind getting me out of a boat and onto the water.  In and of myself I feel like a case study on how not to be a man of faith.  Still, God keeps showing up in my life, calling me, drawing me, and, dare I say, wooing me to Himself.  It is a remarkable story in which I find myself.  Me, so unworthy, and God, so worthy, working out a relationship! Who would have thought it?

I've never asked anyone to follow my example in prayer.  It's just not in me to do so.  I do pray, however, even though my prayers are broken and incomplete and so very lacking.  I pray for people who don't know Christ. I pray for miracles.  I pray for my friends and family. I pray for healing.  I pray for broken relationships. I even pray for my enemies, not because I am so holy, but because Jesus calls His followers to do so.  I take James seriously and anoint people with oil as I join them in seeking healing and help and guidance.

The greatest prayer in my heart is probably the greatest prayer in your heart, too; "Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.  Your kingdom come.  Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven" (Matt. 6:9-10).  This prayer is profoundly important to me for two reasons. First, it is a prayer Jesus taught us to pray.  Secondly because, as I said earlier, sometimes I am overwhelmed at the bigness of things, the complexity of things, and the magnitude of the issues before me, and I really don't know how to pray.

The Bible teaches us that God's will is "good, pleasing and perfect," (Rom. 12:2).  I understand this to mean that God's will can't be improved.  So, why wouldn't we pray "Your will be done"?  It is good, pleasing, and perfect.  Also, on the earth the kingdoms of the world aren't doing so well.  We need help, and help is here in the kingdom of God of which we are called to pray for its full influence in the world.

Prayer, for me, has become a trust; a trust that God is God and knows full well what He is doing in the world.  What He is doing has as its foundation the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  That event signals the way God is present in the world.  He has involved Himself all the way to death and through death, revealing that Jesus is who He says He is and that life falls within the scope of God's amazing grace.

Because of Jesus we see the heart of the Father, a heart of sovereign compassion that moved Him to "empty Himself of all but love and die for Adam's helpless race" (Charles Wesley, in the hymn, "And Can it Be).  God cares about His world.  He cares about His creation.  He cares about us who have been created in His image.  The cross says that God would never leave His world alone and empty.

So, prayer for me is a trust.  It is a trust that God is good, holy, just, perfect, forgiving, healing.  He cares.  I may not "get it," but God gets it.  I can't see two seconds into the future. God sees the past, the present, and the future, in the present moment.  To pray is to invite God and His amazing grace into our story.  We don't know the outcome but we do know God.   

In a world broken by sin and infected by the ramifications of sin, we don't always see things clearly.  In fact, many times life simply doesn't make sense.  We look around and realize that so many things seem to be unaddressed by the grace of God.  The apostle Paul described it as seeing "only a reflection, as in a mirror" (I Cor. 13:12).  He says, "Now I know in part."  We don't know everything.  Things don't make sense.  Everything is in process.  We're not home yet.  But in this broken world "we do see Jesus" (Hebrews 2:9).  And, Jesus shows us the heart of the Father and the depth of His love. 

I don't have a theology of answered prayer but I have a God who calls us all to lay everything down at the feet of Jesus and let it go to God.  How He answers is His issue.  That I pray and include God in on everything in my life, within my sphere of influence, and in His entire world, is my issue.  So, I pray.  In Luke 18:1 Jesus taught His disciples "that they should always pray and not give up."  In Luke 11:8 Jesus speaks of praying with "shameless audacity." 

I pray not because it all makes sense to me.  It doesn't.  I pray because

My hope is built on nothing lessThan Jesus' blood and righteousness;I dare not trust the sweetest frame,But wholly lean on Jesus' name.On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;All other ground is sinking sand.

("My Hope is Built on Nothing Less"by Edward Mote, 1797-1874) 

A part of what it means for me to "wholly lean on Jesus' name," is to trust in His trustworthiness.  He is the Christ, the Son of God, after all.  How He chooses to go about being the Messiah is His issue, not mine.  He is God and I'm not.  So, I pray. 

Karl Barth said, “To clasp the hands in prayer is the beginning of an uprising against the disorder of the world.”  I believe he is correct.  There is disorder everywhere in our little world.  It is a world filled with pain, disillusionment, unfairness, anguish, unanswered questions, fear, evil, untold acts of man's inhumanity to man, and atrocities of a thousand varieties.  It is a dangerous world, where sin and wickedness, narcissism and pride, greed, cheating, and debauchery run rampant. It is a world where walking wounded and broken people are everywhere.  Where in the world do we begin to address the disorder?  "To clasp the hands in prayer is the beginning of an uprising against the disorder of the world." 

It was John Bunyan who said, “You can do more than pray, after you have prayed, but you cannot do more than pray until you have prayed.”  So, join the uprising.  Inundate this world in prayer and, As Phillips Brooks said, “Pray the largest prayers.  You cannot think a prayer so large that God, in answering it, will not wish you had made it larger. Pray not for crutches but for wings.”

See you at the altar.