Category: Prayer

A Hidden Treasure

Background Passages: I Chronicles 4:9-10; Jeremiah 33:3

The Antiques Road Show on PBS has become our default television program when there is absolutely nothing else to watch. If you’re not familiar with the show, hopeful people bring an item to an appraiser in hopes that what looks like a throw-away might actually be treasure.

I find most intriguing the items bought in a garage sale or sitting in the family attic for years. Some pieces are trash. Some pieces prove to be worth far more than expected.

On one recent program, a Corpus Christi family brought in a painting that hung behind a utility room door at his parents’ home for decades. Purchased in Mexico around 1930, the artist was a teenaged Diego Rivera, who would become one of the most influential Latin American painters of the 20th century.

Purchased for pesos, the painting was appraised at the Antique Road Show for $1 million.

It may be a lesson for everyone who bought one of my recent watercolors for a paltry amount. Hang it behind a door in your utility room, but don’t let your grandkids throw it away. It might be worth something 75 years after I’m gone. Another garage sale throw-away that turns out to be a hidden treasure.

I suppose that’s why I’m also drawn to the parenthetical tidbits I discover in scripture…those short, almost throw away passages hidden within the context of a broader story. I often find that the small tidbit becomes spiritual treasure.

I discovered another of those gems this week as I glanced through the early chapters of I Chronicles. Buried in the middle of a list of begats and begots that begin with Adam and end with David, you’ll find a parenthetical statement about a man named Jabez…a prayer of a righteous man hidden among the branches of an extended family tree between the sons of Helah and the sons of Kelub.

Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, “I gave birth to him in pain.” Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, “Oh that you would bless me and enlarge my territory. Let your hand be with me and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.” And God granted his request. (I Chronicles 4:9-10)

While this scriptural insert tells us a little about Jabez, it tells us more about God. It tells us of the connection between the man and the God who blessed him. I find it instructive in my life.
Within these two verses, one can find three characteristics of the kind of life that a gracious God chooses to bless.

First, we see that God blesses those who walk the path of righteousness.

Jabez was more honorable than his brothers.

Little else is known of Jabez or his family, but clearly his brothers missed the mark set by those recording the genealogy. Their lives served as a footnote to the spiritual maturity of their brother. The honor attributed to Jabez seems spiritual in nature…not so much in the physical, financial, social or political realms.

Jabez was a godly man whose moral character, convictions and conduct stood out from those around him. Jabez was honorable, living his life in right relationship with God.

Honorable doesn’t mean perfect. However, if God had a spiritual destination in mind for Jabez…an idea of who he was now, growing into the man God wanted him to be…Jabez was headed in the right direction. He walked a path marked by righteousness.

David could have been talking about Jabez when he opened his Book of Psalms.

Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers. (Psalm 1:1-3)

Jabez chose to ignore the advice of men who lived only for themselves. He chose to avoid the life of intentional sin. He refused to mock God or those around him. Rather, he found joy thinking about and living according to the law of God. As a result, his impact on others yielded fruit of the spirit, finding success in the work God called him to do. Jabez was honorable.

The passage shows us that God blesses those who remain faithful through the pain life brings.

Did you catch the meaning of his name? In the Hebrew culture of the day, a male child received his name when he was circumcised eight days after he was born. It must have been an extraordinarily painful childbirth for his loving mother to give him a name that means “pain,” “grief,” of “suffering.”

The name evidently proved a predictor of the hardships experienced in his life. That his brothers were less honorable might tell us that Jabez suffered hardship at the hands of his family. Maybe he had to assume debt his brothers incurred. Maybe their dishonesty brought shame on the family name. Perhaps Jabez endured health issues that impacted his ability to live as he desired. I’m guessing he struggled and suffered in much the same way we do.

Whatever the cause of his suffering throughout his life, we see in vs. 10 Jabez prays that God would protect him from harm so he would finally be “free of pain.” He longs for a time when pain and hardship are behind him.

God has a way of blessing a life scarred with pain. The Rev. H. B. Charles, Jr., wrote that “Candles must be burned in order to give light. Wheat must be ground to make bread,” he added. “We must experience some pain to experience true blessedness.”

Turning to the Psalmist again we find these words.

It is good for me I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes. (Psalm 119:71)

Charles wrote, “Pain is not the blessing, but it sets us up for blessing.” Puts us in position to be blessed. Opens our hearts to the lessons God can teach us through our experiences.

The final trait in the life of Jabez shows that God chooses also to bless the life of the one who talks to God regularly about the concerns of their hearts.

Jabez was a godly man with more than his share of pain throughout his life. In the middle of all of that, he prayed for God’s blessing. He talked to the source of all blessing.

Can’t you relate to Jabez? Scripture does not praise him for the things the world values. Things like wisdom, strength or wealth. Jabez is not celebrated for being gifted or accomplished. We’re not even told what made him honorable or the depth of pain he experienced. Scripture singles him out simply as a man who prayed for that which God laid on his heart.

You see, Jabez learned what we all need to learn. God answers prayer. Prayer is our connection to God who wants nothing more than to bless his people.

The famed pastor Charles Spurgeon said, “Prayer is the slender nerve that moves the hand of omnipotence.” We receive our greatest blessings after we pray within his will. For his blessing in my life, not my blessing.

This obscure snippet about Jabez teaches us a little about the life God chooses to bless. It also tells us that God’s blessings come in the form of his provision, his presence and his protection.

Look at what Jabez asked of God.

Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory. Let your hand be with me and keep me from harm so I will be free of pain.

Jabez asked that God’s favor would fall on him (bless me) and his situation (enlarge my borders). God knows what we’re going through. God cares about our struggles, needs, dreams and fears. Just as Jabez prayed believing that God was ready, willing and able to answer his heart’s cry, we, too, need to pray for God’s provision with expectation of his blessing.

I initially read the passage and thought Jabez was praying for greater territory and wealth. One commentary suggested his honor would have precluded that. The writer suggested that the enlarged border would strengthen the influence of Jabez to share of his relationship to God.

That makes some sense to me. As God continues to bless us, we ought to be using all he provides to extend our influence with others as a way of testifying to the world of God’s love for them through Jesus Christ. To ask him to give us a platform to share the grace of a loving God.

Jabez asked also for the blessing of God’s presence.

Let your hand be with me…

It is a sentence that speaks to the powerful presence of God in his life. As such it complements the previous request for his expanded influence. Jabez wisely knew that God’s provision and his presence presents a problem. Incapable of managing God’s provision on our own, we need his presence and power.

It’s the Psalmist again who reinforces this truth.

Let your hand be ready to help me, for I have chosen your precepts. (Psalm 119:173)

Finally, God’s blessing is found in his protection.

…keep me from harm so I will be free of pain.

One commentary suggest that a more apt translation of the Hebrew is to “Keep me from doing wrong so I might not cause suffering in my life and the life of others.” In other words, protect me, God, from me. My own bad choices. My own hardheadedness. My own ego. Keep me from hurting myself and those you love.

What a blessing of protection that would be?

Every little segment of Antiques Road Show ends with the appraiser sharing with the owner what his “find” is worth. More often than not, during the show, the owner is overwhelmed by the moment when the throw-away item becomes treasure.

We may attempt to live an honorable life. Not perfect, but over the course of life walking in the general direction God desires for us. We may remain faithful through the inevitable suffering. We may even engage in the kind of deep conversations with God concerning the desires of our heart. Those things open the doors to God’s blessings.

The real treasure I needed to discover this week is found in vs. 10. Look at it.

And God granted his request.

You see, the point is not so much that Jabez was honorable, that he experienced the same kind of pain we experience or even that he prayed. The real treasure is that God answered his prayer…just as he will answer ours.

I’m grateful for a man pulled from the pages of obscurity to remind me that God is a God who looks for every chance he can to bless me with is provision, presence and protection.

I find rest in that thought and the words of God to the prophet Jeremiah.

Call to me and I will answer you and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known. (Jeremiah 33:3)

Way to go, Jabez!

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

No Where Else To Go

Background Passage: John 14:23-27

I spent the bulk of my professional career trying to put the right words together to explain things. I always felt I did it fairly well. Today, I’m at a loss to explain what’s happening in our country.

It’s not that the events of the past year have caught me by surprise. It’s just that it all seems so senseless. The ideologies and actions of a radical left and radical right keep tearing at the fabric of our republic.

I have no words to ease the angst of my adult children who wonder what kind of world their children will inherit. I certainly have no words to adequately answer the questions of my nine-year-old grandson whose innocent heart cannot comprehend hatred and bitterness.

I am at a loss. All I can do for them is listen and love.

We’ve become a people who call others blind because of the sawdust in their eyes without paying heed to the plank obscuring our own vision. A people unable to see that spiritually an “eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” gave way to “turning the other cheek” or “walking the extra mile.”

An essay published by the Lincoln Home National Historic Site shared information about President Lincoln’s thoughts on the eve of the Civil War.

Step back in time and travel the world in 1860. Visiting every continent, every country, you would find monarchies, dictatorships and authoritarian rule. When you return home and set foot on American soil after all your travels, you would have found only one republic established on democratic rule. The United States of America.

France tried shortly after the American Revolution, but mob rule and the guillotine determined outcomes more than the ballot box. If we are honest with ourselves, it is a startling comparison to our present circumstance when taking over a downtown or storming our Capitol building are accepted as necessary by factions of our population, each declaring that the end would justify the means.

President Abraham Lincoln led our nation at a time when the world’s monarchists and tyrants watched our Civil War with glee, hoping to see the end of this unnatural democratic experiment in the dissolution of the United States.

Lincoln understood this well. It was not simple political rhetoric when he described America as “the world’s last best hope.” Lincoln believed if the war were lost, it would be the end of America. If America ceased to exist as a united nation, it would end the hope of people everywhere for any form of democratic government.

I suspect there are foreign nations today dancing with joy at the discord so prevalent among our people.

When he was most overwhelmed, Lincoln found the only answer available to him. It’s the only answer I can find to my current inadequacies. Lincoln turned to prayer.

During the worst days of the Civil War, Lincoln met privately with his friend and journalist Noah Brooks. The president told him, “I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day.”

“Driven to my knees…” When the politics fail, when our own understanding fails us, maybe it’s time to hear those words from President Lincoln. Maybe today, we have “no where else to go” except to our knees in prayer to our Father in heaven.

On March 4, 1861, at his first inaugural address, with his nation divided and on the brink of Civil War, Lincoln offer this prayer for peace.

“Almighty God, who has given us this good land for our heritage;
We humbly beseech Thee that we may always prove ourselves
a people mindful of Thy favor and glad to do Thy will.

“Bless our land with honorable ministry, sound learning, and pure manners. Save us from violence, discord, and confusion,
from pride and arrogance, and from every evil way.

“Defend our liberties, and fashion into one united people,
the multitude brought hither out of many kindreds and tongues.

“Endow with Thy spirit of wisdom those whom in Thy name
we entrust the authority of government, that there may be
justice and peace at home, and that through obedience to Thy law, we may show forth Thy praise among the nations of the earth.

“In time of prosperity fill our hearts with thankfulness,
and in the day of trouble, suffer not our trust in Thee to fail;
all of which we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

It was the perfect prayer for an imperfect era of discord 160 years ago. It’s a good prayer for this day of uncertainty. I claim it for our nation today and ask you to join me in praying for our country, our leaders, our people and our future.

Prayer is something I can do. It is prayer that will bring me the peace I need to feel.

As a politically divided nation, peace is at a premium. Trying to find peace in the events of this world is a fruitless effort. Life’s circumstances and events might bring a welcomed calm, but, ultimately, nothing that happens around us will ever bring peace. We must look upward and inward for that.

Jesus’ words to his disciples in the Upper Room hours before his arrest and crucifixion offered instruction, hope and encouragement. He knew the disciples were about to have the rug pulled out from under their feet. He knew how dark their days would grow and how burdened their hearts would be. He knew exactly what they needed to hear.

What I know in this moment is that God knows my struggles and burdens of my heart. He knows how dark these days feel to me at times. That’s why his words to his disciples bring comfort to my heart. He knows what I need to hear.

“Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching…but the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom my father will send in my name, will teach you all things and remind you of everything I have said to you. Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:23-27)

Don’t worry, he says, about what is happening around you. Just stay true to all I’ve taught you. Be who I have called you to be. Remember all I’ve taught you and don’t be influenced by others to abandon your faith and your hope.

In the middle of life’s turmoil, trust me. Trust my peace, not as the world understands it, but peace as you have experienced  in the past. Do not be afraid.

I don’t know about you, but it is God’s peace we need as a people and a nation. It is a peace that comes only on bended knee.

Seven Times Seventy

Background: Matthew 18:21-35, I Corinthians 13:5, Ephesians 4:31-32; Luke 6:27-28; Isaiah 43:25

The story may be apocryphal, which means regardless of how much I want it to be true, it probably isn’t. Still, no one wants to let a good story interfere with a great illustration of spiritual truth.

Renaissance man, Leonardo da Vinci painted The Last Supper as a fresco for the Dominican monastery Santa Maria delle Grazie in Milan between 1495 and 1498. It depicts that intriguing moment during that last meal in the upper room when Jesus tells the disciples that one of them will betray him.

Da Vinci felt that “notions of the mind” could be seen in a man’s posture, mannerisms and expressions. Therefore, the expressions on each face of the disciples reveal da Vinci’s interpretation of how each disciple might have reacted based upon their personalities.

The story goes that at the time the artist painted The Last Supper, a bitter feud erupted between da Vinci and a fellow painter. Da Vinci despised the man.

When da Vinci painted the face of Judas Iscariot at the table with Jesus, he used the face of this enemy so that it would be present for ages as the man who betrayed Jesus.

As he worked on the faces of the other disciples, he tried time and time again to paint the face of Jesus, but nothing he depicted felt right.

Over time he realized that his hatred for the other painter kept him from finishing the face of Jesus. Da Vinci sought out and made peace with this fellow painter, erasing his features from the fresco and repainting the face of Judas. Only then was he able to paint the face of Jesus and complete his masterpiece.

Whether the story is true or false, it begs the question. Is our hatred for another, for what they have done to hurt us, keeping us from seeing clearly the face of Jesus? Are our ill feelings for another obstructing our relationship with Christ?

To their credit, the disciples who followed Jesus listened. They had difficulty at times understanding, but they heard what he said. They asked questions. They learned…sometimes the hard way.

In the days immediately following the transfiguration experience, Jesus continued teaching the disciples things they would need to know after his death and resurrection. Given the hostility he knew they would face when he was gone, Jesus spent a lot of time talking about forgiveness.

The Pharisees wrote it down, buried in the numerous laws they added to Jewish life. Their laws told them that one must extend forgiveness to another person three times. Beyond that, if the person offended you a fourth time, your personal grace obligation disappeared. You could simply wipe the dust off his sandals and cut that person out of your life. You had done your part.

At one point, Peter, in an effort to impress Jesus with his gracious spirit, asked and answered the question he was sure would bring him praise.

“Lord, how often should I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?”

Peter’s thought seemed to be, “If I just double what the law requires and add one for good measure, I’ll be seen as magnanimous and gracious.”

Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seven times seventy.”

Jesus’ thought seemed to be, “How can you not extend forgiveness to anyone who offends you no matter how many times they hurt you since God forgives your every sin?”

Thus began another great parable about kingdom living which taught that forgiveness ought to be a reflection of the mercy God extends to us each and every day.

The story Jesus tells Peter and the other disciples talks about the man who owed his master an enormous debt he could not repay. Touched by the man’s appeal for mercy, the master forgave the debt and sent him on his way.

Later, that forgiven man demanded payment from a poor man who could not repay his debt to him, though the amount he owed was small. Despite the poor man’s plea for mercy, the man to whom the debt was owed, the same man whom the master had forgiven so much, cast the poor man and his family in prison.

The message to the disciples was clear. The well of God’s forgiveness never runs dry for those who truly repent. He asks the same from us. Forgiveness ought to be a part of who we are…infinitely extended as a natural part of our relationship with a loving and merciful father.

Let’s talk about what that means. When someone hurts me, my first reaction is to check my contract with God to find a loophole, any loophole, that allows me to withhold my forgiveness. That’s kind of what Peter was asking. “Surely, there are things I don’t have to forgive. Surely, there is a limit.”

As humans, we can do some despicable things to one another, making the resentment we feel run deep. We might say the words of forgiveness. We might act the part. But we let the bitterness fester and burn. It takes time to process the hurt.

Forgiveness is too easy to say. Much harder to do. Bitterness keeps us from being able to forgive. It is a tap root that burrows deeply into the fertile soil of anger that we’ve trapped inside. We justify our bitterness with frightening ease. “Since I’ve been hurt, I have a right to feel this way. I have a right to retaliate. I have a right to push this person aside, unworthy of my grace and love.”

That beautiful passage in I Corinthians 13:5 tells us that “love keeps no record of wrongs.” Our experience tells us that bitterness keeps a ledger and conceals it in a combination safe behind the haloed painting of Jesus hanging on our wall in our bedroom. We just don’t want to give up our anger.

While the world might agree with us that the hurt we’ve endured entitles us to a certain amount of anger, rage, resentment, and bitterness, we know in our hearts that the longer we harbor resentment, the more it hurts us.

This is not the way of Christ. Love and forgiveness are the only ways to get rid of bitterness that has taken root in our hearts. If we are to live as Christ lived, forgiveness must be our way as well. Paul laid it out there for the church at Ephesus.

“Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.” Ephesians 4:31-32

Only God’s power and the work of his spirit within us can bring us to a place of being ready and willing to forgive.

Jesus was skilled at forgiveness…It was a God thing. Second nature. A part of who he was. Hanging from a brutal cross and bearing our sins, he cried, “Father, forgive them for they don’t know what they’re doing.”

I always thought this prayer was for the Jews who convicted him and the soldiers to crucified him. I’m convinced now that it was his appeal on my behalf…for my future sins. His willingness to forgive my sins from the cross compels me to forgive others.

So how do we get rid of the bitterness that stands as an obstacle that keeps us from forgiving those who hurt us?

Jesus told his disciples, “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” Luke 6:27-28

There it is — love and pray for your enemies! Love them as God loves them. Pray for those who persecute you. Hurt you. Disrespect you. Disagree with you. Irritate you. Offend you.

Here’s what I’ve learned through the years. My prayers for others may or may not change them, but they always change me…which may be the whole point of prayer in the first place.

There’s one more thing. Several passages in the Bible indicate that God forgives and forgets our sins.

“I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more.” Isaiah 43:25

God’s “not remembering” is not what we usually think of as forgetting. God is omniscient. He knows everything. He forgets nothing. “Not remembering” is the equivalent of not acting upon them. He chooses to overlook our sin because the price of that sin has already been paid.

You see, forgiveness is a choice. We may never actually forget the action. We can, through the grace of God, choose to put the painful memories aside. To choose to overlook it. Forgiving as God forgives keeps us from dwelling on the past.

I’ve erased my painting of Judas so many times the plaster is worn out. I don’t know who’s face you’re painting on your forgiveness fresco. I do know that you’ll never clearly see the face of Jesus until you set the bitterness aside and forgive the one who hurt you.

“Seven times seventy.”

Teach Us To Pray

Background Passage: Luke 11:1-13; I Thessalonians 5:17

As the sun rose, Jesus sat silhouetted against the hills, his back against a fig tree. His disciples watched a short distance away, mesmerized by the intensity of the private conversation between Jesus and his father in heaven. They noticed a difference in the prayers of their master and their own more ritualized mutterings. While Jesus prayed passionately and with purpose, theirs seemed more rote than real.

His daily prayer finished, Jesus walked toward them, smiling brighter than the morning sun. “Let’s eat,” he said as he patted his hungry stomach and clapped his hands to get their attention. Nathaniel walked beside Jesus as they entered the courtyard of the house where they were staying, glancing at Jesus as if he had something on his mind.

Jesus eyed Nathaniel and the other disciples who tried hard to go unnoticed. The master grinned, shrugged his shoulders and asked, “What’s on your mind?”

Voicing the words whispered by other disciples that morning as Jesus prayed, Nathaniel spoke up. “John taught his disciples to pray. We’ve watched you, Jesus. Heard your words. Can you teach us to pray as you do?”

As they settled into breakfast, the lesson began.

“Pray like this,” he said,

“Our Father, in heaven,
Hallowed by your name.
Your kingdom come. Your will be done
on earth as it is in heaven…”

Jesus finished his model prayer and looked at a room filled with blank faces. They didn’t get it. He thought for a minute and told a story, driving home his point. “Think about it this way…

“Suppose one of you has a friend and he goes to him at midnight and says, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread because a friend of mine on a journey has come to me and I have nothing to set before him.’”

A murmur from the disciples let Jesus know that they understood the gravity of the situation.

Unthinkable!

Unpardonable!

Steeped in culture and tradition, a Jewish family could never be caught unprepared when a guest arrived. Such a mistake was not only unthinkable, it was embarrassing and unforgivable. A fresh reminder of cultural duty.

Jesus went on to explain that the man inside did not wish to disturb his family at such a late hour. Turned his friend away at the door. The neighbor continued knocking on the door, pleading for his help, until his friend relented. Grabbing tomorrow morning’s bread from the shelf, the man handed it to the neighbor outside. A heart more filled with bitterness than benevolence.

Jesus stared quietly at his disciples who understood the intensity of that gaze to mean, “Listen up. Here’s the point.”

“I tell you, though he will not get up and give him the bread because he is his friend, yet because of the man’s boldness (shamelessness), he will get up and give him as much as he needs. So, I say to you, ‘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.”

Missing the point, one of the disciples probably mumbled at the back of the room. “Does God answer our prayers so reluctantly?” Jesus winked at the disciple who turned red with embarrassment. With a glint of amusement in his eyes and his tongue firmly in his cheek, Jesus answered,

“Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg will give him a scorpion? If you then, though you are evil (sinful), know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him.”

There has been a long-standing and not fully answered question in our family about the nature of prayer. Does it demonstrate more faith to go to God just once with my concern, trusting that he will answer in accordance to his will? Or am I to “pray without ceasing,” as Paul admonishes, in effect, pounding on heaven’s door until God responds?

The passage, I think, is instructive.

The disciples recognized the power of Jesus’ prayers. Personal. Passionate. Purposeful. We see Jesus throughout scripture praying in the big moments of life. At the start of his ministry…prior to a miracle…in the Garden of Gethsemane…on the cross. This day held nothing special. No significance. Just an ordinary day. Yet, we see Jesus praying. Prayer was a pattern, a routine part of his day.

As he explained his model prayer to his disciples, he used words that indicated that it was God’s intent for prayer to be a continuous part of life. Grammatically in the language of the New Testament, the verbs “ask,” “seek,” and “knock” should be read as “keep on asking,” keep on seeking” and “keep on knocking.“ Continuously bringing your requests, your concerns, your needs to the father.

Pray without ceasing. Right?

That doesn’t mean that if we are annoyingly persistent that God will give in to our requests just to shut us up. Jesus model prayer speaks to the content of the prayers that God honors. God honors and responds to prayers aligned with his will for our lives. “Your will be done” is not a catch phrase to make a greedy request sound honorable. It’s the crux of the whole thing.

God responds appropriately to the submissive heart that keeps on asking, seeking and knocking that things within the will of God will be made real in a person’s life.

“Give us this day our daily bread” speaks to our desire for God to arm us with all we need to accomplish his will in our lives. It is not a guarantee of a chicken in every pot and a car in every garage. God feeds the sparrow after all. It’s not about hitting the prayer lottery where every want gets fulfilled.

Prayer means knowing that God’s plan for my life is perfect and all I need is that which God requires me to have in order to live faithfully within his will.

“Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us” is a request for a pure and righteous heart. A desire to stay on the path God laid out for us to travel. It is a petition to put us back on that path when we decide for a moment to go our own way. It is also a request to make forgiveness a lifestyle choice, freely given to those who hurt us.

“Lead us not into temptation” serves as a plea for wisdom to make the right choices. To keep from putting myself in a position to fall away from God’s purpose and plan for my life.

Maybe Jesus is trying to convey the idea that we should be in constant prayer to God for those things that matter most to God. The things that are most important to him. The things he wants most for us.

What if our prayers were for the right words to say to a hurting friend? What if we prayed for wisdom to discern what steps to take in a crisis? What if our prayers sought patience in dealing with a difficult colleague or situation? For a pure heart? The healing of a fractured relationship? To see the good in others? For an extra measure of hope and faith? To act always in accordance to his will and way? To grow beyond my disappointments?

I think God loves it when we pray persistently and with confidence for our spiritual needs. It expresses within us the desire to have God’s help every day in becoming more like Christ.

“What father would give his son a scorpion when he asked for an egg? If a sinful person like you knows how to treat those he loves, how much more will the Father/Creator provide to his children through his spirit? A rhetorical question with an obvious answer. God will never fail to deliver on the prayers of those who ask for the right things with the right heart, at the right time and in the right spirit.

Here’s where I think I’m going with this. Maybe it’s enough for me to pray just once that I get that new job as long as it is in the Father’s will for my life to have it. Maybe I can pray only once that we stay safe in the middle of a storm. Maybe that’s a sign of my faith that God will answer or not answer based upon what’s best for me.

But, I should also pray without ceasing…keep on asking, seeking and knocking persistently…for the things of God. Wisdom. Patience. Faith. Hope. Love. God never tires of us petitioning him for that which makes us more like Christ.

Prayer is not about bending God’s will to the desires of my heart. Prayer is about aligning the desires of my heart with the will of God. God will listen to that prayer all day, every day, and twice on Sunday.

Amen?

Lord, Teach Us To Pray

Background Passages: Matthew 6: 5-15; Luke 11:1-13

The young disciple laid on his back,
opening his eyes to a new morning.
Rubbing the stubble of his beard,
Jude propped himself up on one elbow.
Surveyed the scene unfolding around him
in the dawn of a new day.

Nathaniel.
Always an early riser,
stoked the fire.

Andrew.
Always helpful,
walked up the path from the Sea of Galilee.
A bucket of water in each hand.

Others engaged in various stages of waking.
Rolled up their sleeping mats.
Folded their blankets.
Tied their sandals.
Only John remained asleep.
Snored heavily while the world came
alive around him.

Jude stood.
Stretched and yawned.
Pressed both fists into the small of his back.
Worked the kinks out of a tired body
that slept all night on the rocky ground.
He nudged John with his toe,
eliciting a grunt and a grumpy,
“Go away,”
from the weary disciple.

“Breakfast, my friend.
You’ll be grumpier if you missed it,”
Jude chuckled.
“Rise and shine.”

Jude scanned the group looking for Jesus.
He spied him a short distance up the hillside,
sitting cross-legged.
Arms held loosely in his lap.
Leaning his head against a rock.
Engaged in his morning prayer.

“Every morning without fail,”
Jude mused,
marveling at how little sleep
their master seemed to need.

The disciples ate a quick breakfast of bread and honey
accompanied by the quiet conversation of close friends.
James wrapped some bread in a cloth,
saving it for Jesus.

The men cleaned the campsite.
Put out the fire.
Then, walked slowly and quietly up the hillside,
unwilling to disturb Jesus during his
morning prayers.
They stopped a few feet away.
Some knelt.
Some bowed their heads.
Some stood silently as their gaze settled on the
placid waters of the Sea of Galilee
far below.

Jude,
for his part,
never took his eyes off Jesus.
Watched his master with a
blend of curiosity and wonder.
No rabbi he had known spent this
kind of time in private prayer.
His whole demeanor so different from
the prayerful posturing of the Pharisees.
Eyes closed.
Arms resting in his lap.
Fingers interlaced,
dangling loosely in front of him.
Jesus was a man at peace.

After a few minutes,
Jesus breathed deeply.
Opened his eyes.
Raised his head.
Smiled at his disciples.
“Good morning.”

Stretching his legs in front of him,
Jesus caught the small loaf of bread,
James flipped his way.
Unwrapped it.
Began to eat.

The disciples probed about his plans for the day.
Tried to get a handle on what to expect.
Jude fidgeted throughout the conversation,
unsettled in heart and mind.
Unable to contain his thoughts any longer,
he blurted,
“Jesus,
I watch you like this every morning.
So deep in prayer.
Always by yourself.
It’s different from anything I’ve seen.
Different from anything we’ve seen.
The Pharisees shout from the rooftops.
You whisper in the wilderness.”

The young man’s observation took the
morning conversation in a new direction.
All eyes now on him.

Jesus nodded.
Encouraged Jude to continue.
“John taught his disciples how to pray.
Teach us to pray as John taught his disciples.”
A request from one seeking to
dip his bucket into the
deep well of faith.

Jesus looked at Jude
in the ensuing silence.
Glanced at the other disciples.
He grinned like an excited teacher
when his students asked the right question.
He leaned back against his rock.
Put his hands behind his head,
wiggled his hips as he settled for what he
hoped to be a fruitful conversation.
“You tell me.
How should we pray?”

A beautiful discussion followed
concerning one of the most
important aspects of Jesus’ life.
The disciples shared their thoughts,
each building upon the other’s understanding.
Finally, when they said all they knew to say,
they waited quietly for Jesus’ response.

Jesus explained that public prayer
should always be a part of worship.
A time to draw hearts to God in times of
reflection and praise.
But such prayer will never replace our private,
intimate conversations with the Father.

Jesus shook his head.
“When you pray,
do not be like the hypocrites.
They love to pray standing in the synagogues.
On the street corners just to be seen by others.
Truly, I tell you, they have received their reward in full.
Instead, when you pray,
go into your room.
Close the door.
Pray to your Father, who is unseen.

“Do not keep babbling like pagans.
They think they will be heard because of
their many words.
Do not be like them. Your Father knows what you need
before you ask.”

Then, he offered an example for their private prayers.
“When you pray, pray like this…

“Our Father in heaven,
hallowed by thy name,
your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from the evil one. “

The disciples looked at Jesus.
Some still struggled.
Jesus elaborated.

“Suppose you have a friend…”
And the lesson continued into the morning.
Jesus challenged them to think about an
unwilling friend,
who repeatedly turned them away in
an hour of great need,
only to reluctantly open the door of his home to them
when they persisted in knocking.

Then another.
What father would give a son
a snake when he asked for a fish.
A scorpion when he asked for an egg.
“The point is this,”
Jesus said.
“If an unwilling friend will eventually help
and an earthly father responds properly to a child’s need,
how much more will your Father in heaven give
the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?”

*****

Within these two passages rest Jesus’ most comprehensive teachings on prayer. Jesus may have taught this lesson twice…once in his Sermon on the Mount and once on another distant hillside. Those scholars who believe the Sermon on the Mount to be a collection of Jesus’ teachings may see these lessons as one incident. Either way, the passages beg a great question.

How should we pray?

I recently visited with my uncle, a Lutheran pastor, about the liturgical use of The Lord’s Prayer in modern worship services. The idea troubled both of us to a degree. What is repeated often can become stale and rote. I began looking at The Lord’s Prayer in the context in which Jesus introduced it to see if it made a difference in my thinking and in my practice.

Look first at the passage in Matthew. When one of his disciples first asked Jesus to teach them to pray, he didn’t immediately launch into The Lord’s Prayer. He first shared thoughts about the attitude in which we should come before the Father. Prayer, whether public or private, is no time of grandstanding. The Pharisees…the hypocrites…who prayed on the steps of the synagogue and street corners loudly proclaimed their righteousness…spoke eloquently, careful in their choice of words…infused their speech with the appropriate number of “thees” and “thous. ”Jesus said they may impress the folks, but they are not impressing God. Their incessant babbling will not be heard by God because they pray for men and not to God. The praise they receive from their fellow Pharisees for their powerful prose is all the reward they receive.

Jesus shared a parable once about the Pharisee and the Tax Collector. The Pharisee stood on the steps of the Temple, shouting his prayer to God, extolling his virtues and thanking God that he was not like the sinners kneeling nearby. The Tax Collector, on the other hand, would not lift his eyes to heaven, but beat upon his chest in remorse for all the sin in his life. He begged God for mercy and forgiveness. One was a self-serving attempt to tell God how righteous he was. The other was a humble plea of one who recognized his failures.

Jesus led them away from such demonstrative prayers. Jesus told his disciple to make prayer a private matter. Go into your room. Close the door. Take an intimate moment with your Father in heaven. But, does that negate the need for public prayer? Does it minimize the role of liturgical prayer?

Absolutely not! Prayer will always be an essential form of worship. Nor is there anything wrong with the liturgy of spoken prayer as long as neither of those become rote or carelessly offered. Prayer is our love language to God. It can and should be expressed in many different ways.

Pate Hughes was a kindly deacon in our church who passed away a few years ago. Frequently called upon to pray, Pate would approach the pulpit with such reverence. He spoke in a whisper, barely audible to the rest of us. I can describe his prayers as “heartfelt.” The rest of us were merely eavesdropping on an incredibly intimate moment between this man and his God.

Guard your attitude in prayer. That was the first point Jesus tried to make with his disciples.

When Jesus gave them this model prayer, I’m not sure his intent was to make it liturgical. I think his intent was to provide a guide as to the content of our prayers. What a model it is!

The prayer begins with two opposing, but delightful concepts. “Our Father.” An intimate phrase that speaks to our unique, personal relationship with one who we approach with reverence, recognizing his unmatched holiness. “Hallowed.” “Holy” is his name.

The next two phrases also run in parallel. “Your kingdom come.” “Your will be done.” These are petitions for God to establish his kingdom within us, to bend us to his will and way, both in the present time and the time to come. It conveys the idea that we desire God to rule in our lives daily.

Jesus also taught his disciples and us that there is a time to ask God for the things that sustain us…”Our daily bread”…and that which will cleanse us…”Forgive our sins.” He follows with a sincere request for God’s protection from the temptations the world puts in front of us and for the strength to resist that which the world makes so appealing. Seeking God’s help in forgiving those who hurt us.

Luke records Jesus’ promise that those things we need will be provided by a willing and loving Father. His story about knocking on the door of a reluctant friend is intended to tell us we don’t need to keep nagging God until we get what we want. Rather, look at the remarkable contrast Jesus offers.

“Ask and it shall be given. Seek and you will find. Knock and the door will be opened.”

Those verses stand not as a blank check for all we desire. God doesn’t simply grant all that we ask of him. I too often stopped my reading at verse 12. Look at verse 13.

“If you then, though you are evil (sinful), know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

The Holy Spirit is God’s greatest gift since salvation. It is the Holy Spirit that intercedes on our behalf for the deep desires of our hearts even when we have no idea what those desires might be. It is the Holy Spirit that steps between our prayers for things we don’t need and asks God to provide that which we do need. How remarkable that a gracious and loving God, through his Holy Spirit, will take our misguided prayers to give us what we need. Help us find what we seek. Open the doors that need to be opened to take us where he wants us to go.

What a promise he makes!

Prayer is an incredible opportunity to get in touch with a God who desires a close relationship with us. When we talk to God with an attitude of reverence and devotion, when we pray for God’s will to rule in our lives whatever that might mean, when we pray, confident in God’s provision, when we trust the Holy Spirit to carry our hearts to God, then prayer makes a difference.

The question of the disciple should echo in the deepest parts of our souls. “Lord, teach us to pray.”

Amen?

Amen.

Help My Unbelief

Matthew 17:14-21; Mark 9:14-29; Romans 8:26-27

Life can change in a heartbeat. One moment we are dancing on the mountaintop. The next moment we are trudging through the muck in the valley. One moment buoyed in faith. The next set upon by a world cloaked in doubt.

Jesus moved so easily between his mountaintop experiences and those moments that surely sucked the breath from his lungs. We find one such episode following the Transfiguration. Jesus found himself wrapped in the arms of his Father God, strengthened by his Father’s presence. Within moments, he was immersed in a pitched battle of wills that stripped away the deep sense of peace he enjoyed at the top of the mountain.

Halfway down the mountainside
Jesus heard
the first echo of angry shouts.
Glanced at his three trusted friends,
heart beating faster.
Quickening their pace,
they scurried down the slope toward
the sound of madness.
In a heartbeat,
Jesus traded the
tranquility of the transfiguration
for the
frenzy of a fight.

Reaching the bottom of the path,
Jesus pushed through a bewildered crowd
to find his disciples squared off against
an equal number of scribes.
Hurling insults at one another.
Jesus stepped to the center of the melee.
The crowd grew quiet.
Silenced by Jesus’ sudden appearance.
The bitter argument of rivals
Ceased when Jesus stepped into the clearing.

His eyes shifted back and forth between
the scribes and
his disciples.
Jesus turned to Simon the Zealot
standing at the front of the disciples
Fists clenched.
Jaw set in anger.

Tilting his head toward the scribes,
Jesus asked in a wary voice,

“What are you arguing with them about?”

The quarrel erupted anew.
Each side shouting.
Pointing fingers.
Jesus cringed at the hostility.

Before Jesus could silence them,
a man grabbed his arm.
Caught his attention.
Something in his eyes convinced Jesus
to walk with him a short distance
from the heated confrontation.

“I brought you my son today…”

And the words flowed unrestrained.
First a halting trickle of detail.
Then a torrent of despair.
Unburdening his heart to a healer
concerning the nature of the severe illness
that plagued his son for years.
Growing worse with each passing day.
Sapping the boy’s strength.
Threatening his life.

“I asked your disciples to heal him
but they could not.”

The scribes who had followed from a distance,
erupted in laughter.
Seized the opportunity to belittle the disciples
and their master.
The failure of the disciples
opened the door for them to
discredit Jesus for their incompetence.

The disciples.
Seeing the pained look in Jesus’ eyes,
studied the ground at their feet.
Defiance before the scribes turned to
embarrassment and shame.

Jesus ran his left hand through his hair,.
Rubbed his eyes.
Smoothed his beard.
Deep in thought.
The shake of his head almost imperceptible.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips.
The master spoke quietly to his disciples.

“Oh, faithless generation.
How long shall I stay with you?
How long shall I put up with you?”

He turned to the father.
“Bring the boy to me.”

We learn something about Jesus in this passage that instructs us about living in the moment. Jesus just experienced the most moving moment in his earthly life. In the ultimate of mountaintop experiences, Jesus’ work gained affirmation from the father in the presence of Moses and Elijah. For a brief time, Jesus walked in the bright light of God’s presence and praise.

Every one of us can relate for all of us have longed to hear our father’s praise…to hear our father’s words of love. Jesus stood in the middle of a heavenly scene and heard his Father proclaim, “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him.”

Can you imagine the overwhelming joy of that personal and poignant moment? More certain than ever of his role in God’s plan to redeem humanity, Jesus committed himself again to the cross. It was the assurance he needed.

Jesus shared that experience with his three closest friends. In the afterglow of the Transfiguration, I can see them standing in a circle with their arms around each other’s shoulders, foreheads almost touching in that prayerful and mind-boggling moment. Expressions of wonder plastered on amazed faces. “Did we see what we just saw? Did we hear what we just heard?”

What a tremendous moment of absolute joy!

Within the hour, though, Jesus found himself in the valley, facing yet another human crisis. He just reaffirmed his commitment to the cross only to find his closest followers baffled and beaten in the task for which he had called them from their tax tables and fishing nets.

In that moment when the disciples could no longer look him in the eye, Jesus must have felt the weight of the world again upon his shoulders. Gone was the aura of glory. In its place, the painful reality of the work that still needed to be done. To go to the cross would be difficult enough. The change human nature might be the more hopeless task. If he could not capture the trust of those closest to him while he was present among them, how could their faith survive the cross?

How often have our mountaintop experiences been followed by that which seemed hopeless? The joy of the mountain rarely survives the walk in the valley. In that moment of crisis, how do we cling to a shaken faith?

Jesus provided an answer. The savior didn’t let his moments of despair overwhelm him. At a time when he surely wondered if mankind would ever find the faith they needed, he did the one thing he knew he could do. He changed the circumstances of a little boy. He changed what he could.

Living as a Christian in an angry, despairing world challenges our faith. Begs us to make a difference. We wonder how we can impact a world that refuses to listen? What can one person do? We lose heart. Lose faith.

Jesus teaches us in this episode that we draw upon the reserves of faith energized on the mountaintop to enable us to deal with the inevitable valley moment. To not let the faithlessness of the world drain our energy or resolve. Jesus shows us that we fight through the episodes that discourage us, finding that thing we can do and doing it, rather than giving in to our despair.

That, my friends, is a lesson I need to learn in this day as I grow so frustrated with the rancid animosity and argument so prevalent in society. When I wonder what I can do to change the world I need only follow Jesus’ example. His example tells me to change what I can. We were not saved by God to stay on the mountain, but to get down in the valley and change what we can.

This passage teaches another great lesson about coming to terms with our struggling faith. God uses even our shrouded faith to accomplish his will. A little is often enough.

Join me back in the story. Jesus asked the father to bring the boy to him. The father obediently carried his boy to Jesus, standing him in front of the great healer. Immediately, the young boy suffered another seizure…violent and terrifying. As the boy fell to the ground trembling, I can imagine Jesus dropping to his knees, placing his hand on the boy’s chest, trying to quiet the tremors.

With his eyes never leaving the boy, Jesus asked the father, “How long has he been like this?” The question was not a medical inquiry. Rather, hear the heartfelt compassion Jesus felt for the misery suffered by an innocent child. The father shared more of the boy’s story and finally asked the favor he wanted to ask of Jesus when he approached the disciples earlier that day. “If you can do anything, take pity on him and help us.”

Jesus looked up at the father, “If you can?…” Hoping to see a glint of faith reflected in the man’s eyes. “Everything is possible for him who believes.”

With tears in his eyes, the father responded, “I do believe, but help me with my unbelief.”

What a true confession of this father’s heart. What a true confession of my own soul. He came seeking Jesus. When Jesus was absent, he thought he found the next best thing…Jesus’ disciples. Whatever faith he brought to the mountain was thrown to the wind by the disciples’ inability to help. The result left him so discouraged that all he could muster when Jesus asked his question was a whispered plea, “If you can…”

Face to face with Jesus, his fragile faith bubbled to the surface. Oh, how his words echo how I feel at times. “I do believe, Jesus. I believe, but I am so discouraged. Doubt is my constant companion. Please, Lord, take away the uncertainty and replace it with unquestioned belief.”

God moves when imperfect faith cries out to a perfect savior. Belief, though flooded with doubt, calls out to the only one who can fix that which is broken. “If you can….” The Father’s prayer is often my prayer. The father’s doubt is my doubt. The father’s reservation is my reservation. I live all too often in this shallow faith, hoping it is enough.

That’s always what I thought this verse taught as if God were saying “If only your faith were stronger, I could act upon your request.” I suspect there is a measure of truth in that interpretation. However, I look at the verse and wonder if Jesus did not hear the father’s profession of doubt-filled faith as sufficient. Might Jesus be telling him, “Listen, everything is possible for him who believes. Give me whatever faith you have, no matter how limited, because my belief in the father is big enough for both of us.”

Follow me again to the story.

Evening comes.
Jesus and his disciples
lay upon the roof of a house,
staring at the stars glittering the night sky.
Tired after a long day.
But sleep will not come.

In the silence surrounding them,
The disciples think about what happened.
Weeks prior they walked two by two
preaching, teaching and healing
in the power of God.
This morning,
when the father lay is son at their feet…
Dismal failure.
Humiliation.
Embarrassment.
From the mountaintop to the valley.

A raspy voice breaks the silence.
Maybe Simon the Zealot.
Mustering all his nerve,
asks the question all wanted to ask.

“Jesus,
Why could we not heal the boy?”

In this teachable moment, Jesus spoke quietly.
“This kind of thing requires prayer.
This kind of thing requires faith.”
Thinking back on the father with feeble,
but sincere faith,
Jesus added,
“Faith as small as a mustard seed
can move a mountain.”

Hyperbole? Maybe. But maybe this story hits upon the central truth of the matter. Jesus doesn’t ask us for perfect faith because we are imperfect. He asks for whatever faith we have to be placed in his hands…If for no other reason that he has enough faith in the grace, goodness and the power of God for all of us as he lifts our needs to the Father in heaven.

Paul shared this with the church in Rome.

“In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. He who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God’s will.”

Place at his feet whatever faith we have and he will take it to the throne of God with the perfect faith of the Spirit.

So, I like this story because we can identify at times with Jesus who came off this amazing mountaintop experience only to find disorder and disarray. Next time we come off a spiritual high, we can look amid the inevitable chaos, as Jesus did, for what we can do and we can do it.

Then, if we find our faith blanketed by the mist of doubt, like the father in the story, let’s give Jesus all the faith we hold no matter how small. Declaring before God, “Help us in our unbelief.” And knowing more that his trust in the Father is enough for all of us.

Plant your mustard seed. Move a mountain.

 

Prayer Warriors

Background Passages: Colossians 1:7-8; 4:12-13; Philemon 23; James 2:14-16

The great Protestant reformer, Martin Luther learned the need for deep spiritual concentration in prayer from his dog, Klutz. Luther said, “If I could only pray the way this dog watches meat …(beyond that one thing) he has no thought, wish or hope.” Effective prayer requires a singular focus.

One such prayer warrior, casually mentioned in scripture, poured his every thought, wish and hope into his passionate prayers for the believers in Colossae. Consider the example of Epaphras.

I suspect the long journey to Rome gave him time to reflect on the troubles plaguing the Colossian church as it resisted the heretical attacks of those who misunderstood and misapplied the gospel of Christ. After his conversion experience in Ephesus experienced at the feet of Paul, Epaphras took his missionary zeal 100 miles west to the cities of Colossae, Laodicea and Hierapolis.

As it was in other areas, the spread of Christianity faced a host of problems caused by those who wished to assimilate Christ’s teachings into the prevailing religions or philosophies of the day. Some Jewish leaders embraced the teachings of Christ to a point, but insisted that Jewish laws, rituals and traditions be embraced as a condition of salvation. Some Gentiles attempted to blend Greco/Roman philosophies with Christian teaching, but proclaiming a “secret knowledge” that made them more in tune with God. Other philosophers tried to meld Christian humility and servanthood with the joyless stoicism of self-denial.

Faced with all of these pressures upon the churches he served, Epaphras boarded a boat to Rome intent upon sharing his concerns with Paul, his spiritual mentor and guide. When Paul heard of the difficulties in the church, he penned a letter addressed to the churches providing instruction from the apostle to the believers. In the book of Colossians, Paul encouraging them to set aside the false teachings and focus instead on the teachings of Christ.

As he closed his letter to the Colossian church, Paul spoke highly of Epaphras, one of only three times this dedicated pastor was mentioned in the Bible. In the brief biblical references to Epaphras, he is called “servant of Christ Jesus,” “our beloved fellow servant,” “faithful minister” and “my fellow prisoner.”

Paul held this man of faith in high esteem, considering him a valuable member of the ministry team and a personal encouragement in his life. However, Paul’s reference to his friend reveals a great deal about Epaphras that I find instructive. He wrote,

“Epaphras, who is one of you and a servant of Christ Jesus, sends greetings. He is always wrestling in prayer for you, that you may stand firm in all the will of God, mature and fully assured. I vouch for him that he is working hard for you and for those in Laodicea and Hierapolis.”

Epaphras understood what we tend to forget. Our prayers tend to be incident specific, offered during times of personal need or want. Our prayers tend to be generic as we intercede for “them,” those whose struggles we see, but never really touch. Epaphras prayed differently.

Paul said, “He is always wrestling in prayer for you…” He offered prayers of intercession, lifting his congregation to the throne of God, laying their needs at the feet of Christ. Knowing what they faced…knowing that great was their need for the Spirit’s presence at a time when false teachers were pulling them in all directions…Epaphras prayed.

I suspect he did more than pray for the generic spiritual health of his church. He knew his people, his friends. He knew the unique struggles each individual faced. He knew their personal hurts, their unique desires, their individual weakness. He knew their joy, their devotion, their strengths. He prayed for each member of his congregation that God’s presence might be felt. God’s voice heard. God’s will obeyed.

How much more effective would our prayer life be if our first thought was not for our own needs or for a faceless crowd, but for the specific needs of the one? Praying not just for the universal needs of the Christian community, but for specific friends and family we know caught between the loving arms of God and the selfish pull of the world. Praying for friends and family that God’s joy might be made complete in them.

We learn another truth from this passage. “He is always wrestling in prayer for you,” Paul wrote. Epaphras prayed persistently and continuously for his people, lifting them up constantly to the Father. So great was his love for his congregation, their situation remained at the forefront of his heart. Though miles separated Rome from Colossae, Epaphras could not take his mind off their struggles. When you know those you care for are under spiritual attack and you cannot stand physically by their side, prayer provides a connection one to the other, linking your heart to theirs.

Thessalonians reminds us to “pray without ceasing,” not so a forgetful God will be reminded of our requests, but that we remain connected to those we love through a spiritual life line. Persistent and continuous prayer for another never allows the needs of another to get buried beneath the bustle of daily life.

Epaphras knew that effective prayer is labor intensive. Paul said, “He is always wrestling in prayer for you.” This servant of Jesus Christ agonized over the souls of those for whom he was responsible. They were that important to him. He carried their burdens as his own and that heavy responsibility left him seeking answers day in and day out, desperate to discover what he could say or do to bolster their faith and give them strength.

The word “wrestle” found in this text comes from a Greek word meaning “to agonize.” In a real sense, it paints a picture of competing for a prize. Figuratively, it suggests fighting an adversary. Both concepts ring true. The false teachers threatened the work of God’s grace, eternity’s highest prize, in the daily life of the Colossians. Those Epaphras opposed stood as enemies of the faith. True adversaries. He would fight them with every spiritual weapon at his disposal. Praying for the Colossians brought heartbreak and pain. The danger to their faith was never more real.

Epaphras labored in prayer over Colossae, Laodicea, and Hierapolis. Stretching his mind, his heart, his spirit and his soul, Epaphras’ prayers consumed his time, drew upon his strength and challenged his commitment.

Prayer that fails to burden the soul echoes as a hollow sound. Epaphras teaches us that prayer should compel us to go to the mat for those in need and should define who we are and that for which we stand.

Epaphras prayed specifically and intelligently for the people. He prayed that in the face of all that opposed them, they might “stand firm” in the will of God. That their faith might be “mature” and “fully assured” as they withstand the assault on their beliefs. We might have prayed for God’s blessing upon them, or God’s peace and presence… and God would hear that prayer. However, Epaphras prayed for specific manifestations of their faith in a troubled time. His prayer came with a stated purpose for personal spiritual growth and confidence that they did not walk alone.

The most effective prayers we utter are those that are backed by our own hard work. Paul reminded the Colossians of their pastor’s tireless effort on their behalf. “I vouch for him that he is working hard for you and those in Laodicea and Hierapolis.” It wasn’t enough to lay his concerns before God, Epaphras set out to make those prayers a reality in the lives of those he loved. He worked. He worked hard as God’s hands and feet to make his prayers a reality.

James tells us of the link between faith and works. “Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says, ‘Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?”

I suspect the same is true of our prayers. Casual prayers of blessing for those we know who are struggling sound like we simply wish them well. We need to back our prayers with our actions. In this way we serve as God’s conduit for the answers he provides.

Every day we encounter someone who lives life in turmoil. Will we wrestle constantly in prayer for the heart that is broken? Will we put ourselves to work to ensure that our prayers actually touch a life of another? Can we go to God with such fervor and focus there exists no greater thought, wish or hope beyond that for which we pray?

The lesson taught by this obscure Christian giant is a good one. Whose Epaphras will you be?

*****

Author’s Note: This devotional thought is the third in a series of posts about some of the unsung heroes of the New Testament. These men and women, in many ways, carried the responsibility of the spread of the gospel in first 50 years after the ministry of Christ. By putting together the limited biblical references to their work and filling in the gaps with a little imagination, we find ways in which we, as ordinary Christians, can find in the examples they set our own heart for ministry.

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A Unsung Prayer Warrior

Background Verses: Colossians 1:7-8 and 4:12-13

All of us struggle with weighty decisions from time to time. Those issues that tend to keep you awake at night. Whether matters of the heart, matters of health or matters of the soul, we find comfort when we know there are friends and family praying for us. I cannot tell you how many times in my life I have found an element of peace after being told by a friend that they have lifted me up in prayer.

Last night I found myself reading through Colossians within that frame of reference. Here is a first-century church, a group of people from diverse backgrounds, Greek and Jew, master and slave, rich and poor, gathering regularly in someone’s home to hear the gospel proclaimed and to be taught how they should live as followers of Christ in a world that follows a very different moral compass…a church struggling to stay on the right path when those among them are preaching and teaching a tarnished truth blending convenient portions of pagan, Jewish and Christian teaching into a hybrid belief system lacking substance.

Yet, there are good people in the church, trying desperately to hang on to what they have been taught and what they believe. They’re hanging on while their faithful pastor Epaphras serves in Rome offering love and support to an imprisoned Paul, Christianity’s foremost missionary.

Imagine the Christians in Colossae, gathering quickly at a friend’s home. They’ve just been told that Tychius and Mark, two men well-known in the region for their association with Paul and their pastor, have arrived in town bearing a letter from Paul. Men and women of faith gathering in anticipation.

Erastus ducked his head through the door,

out of breath from his dash across town.

Eyes darted from face to face,

Slapping a back in greeting.

Clasping hands with those

not seen since they last gathered for worship.

Many others already sat in boisterous conversation

around the walls of the tidy villa.

Permeating the room was an air of

Energy.

Excitement.

Expectation.

Across the crowded room,

quietly visiting with the man of the house…

Two men he had never met.

Known only by reputation.

Associates of

The Missionary.

Though they looked tired from their journey,

they laughed easily.

Comfortable in their companionship .

Bound together

with those in the room by the

fellowship of faith.

Introductions are made.

Greetings exchanged.

Tychicus,

the elder of the two men took a step back,

yielding to Mark,

 the younger of the two messengers.

Erastus liked him immediately.

No haughtiness.

No pretense.

A calm tone and quiet voice.

A warm smile that spoke volumes

and revealed his heart.

“I have a letter from Paul,” he said,

“and a word from your pastor.”

Mark began to read.

“We always thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,

when we pray for you because

we have heard of your faith in Christ Jesus…

the love you have for all God’s people–

the faith and love that springs from the hope stored up for you in heaven…

The gospel is bearing fruit and growing throughout the whole world–

just as it has been doing among you

since the day you heard it and truly understood God’s grace.

You learned it from Epaphras,

our dear fellow servant,

who is a faithful minister of Christ on our behalf,

and who also told us of your love in the Spirit.”

Erastus felt…

Edification.

Encouragement.

Erastus heard…

Warnings about the false doctrines that

wage war against their souls.

Words that inspired him to stand fast.

Hold true to what he had been taught.

 I have to believe Paul’s message met its intended purpose. False teachers had peppered them for months with a new doctrine that sounded right, but felt terribly wrong. Yet, the boldness of their arguments tempted them to abandon what they had been taught by their beloved pastor.

Those individuals who listened to the words read to them by Mark had to find reinforcement and reassurance in their fledgling faith.

Yet, as powerful as Paul’s words might have been, I can’t help but feel there was an unsung hero buried in the text of Paul’s letter. A name that captured their attention and strengthened their resolve by the simply sound of his name and the reminder of his love for them.

 The tone of Mark’s voice changed.

Clearly, the letter was drawing to a close.

Erastus had been lost in thought,

Staring at the floor.

His mind hearing,

but not locking on to the closing words

until the sound of a familiar name

jolted him from this thoughts.

“Epaphras, who is one of you and

a servant of Christ Jesus,

sends greetings.”

The men seated around him,

looked at each other and grinned.

The salutation was like balm on a sunburned back.

“Epahpras is always wrestling in prayer…

for you…

praying that you will stand firm in all the will of God,

mature and fully assured.

He is working hard for you.”

Erastus squared his shoulders.

Leaned back against the wall.

Closed his eyes.

Prayed for the kind of strength for which his pastor prayed.

Faith’s great turning point in his life.

Epaphras was a man of faith who loved his congregation. He saw them not simply as sheep to feed, but friends to love. A man who felt the burden of responsibility to develop their immature belief into a deep abiding faith that sustains. So, every day…every day…he lifted them up to the Father. Notice the words Paul used. “Always wrestling in prayer.” He never failed to remember his people in Colossae. The prayer was never casual, but deep and heartfelt.  Praying as if God might not hear unless his prayer sprung from his gut…fearful that if he did not intercede, God would not know how desperate their situation might be. Incessant. Insistent. Impassioned.

Not only did he pray frequently and deeply, but his prayer was specific. Not given to pious platitudes. The prayers were pointed…that they might “stand firm in all the will of God.” Continuing in their belief, finding in Him righteousness as a model for life; finding in Him strength as a mechanism to cope with any disinformation they might hear. Asking that they be…unwavering in their faith and their understanding of God’s grace and what he desires of them. That their faith might discern his perfect wisdom and desire for their lives. Instilling in them…the truth of what they believe and how that belief is translated into practice. Inspiring them to…demonstrate the courage of their conviction even in the midst of abuse and persecution.

I find value in the life of Epaphras, this unsung bible hero, who cared so deeply for the spiritual security of his friends and neighbors that his spirit groaned in passionate petition for his people. May I be blessed with that kind of prayer warrior lifting me up as I deal with life that God has laid before me. May I be that kind of prayer warrior for those I love and those I serve.

Source: The Searcher