Prayerlessness is perhaps the most indisputable evidence of pride in my life.
The act of prayer is first and foremost a purposeful step in the direction of humility. It is an acceptance of my weakness and a sign of my dependence on One far more powerful and wise than I. When I pray, I lower myself. I declare my need. I acknowledge my insufficiency. Without question, prayer must be considered one of the principle activities of the meek and humble.
Prayerlessness, however, is the opposite of all these things. It is ignoring my weakness and rejecting the Lord’s gracious provision and guidance. It is a statement of independence and self-sufficiency. When I refuse to pray, I declare to God (either consciously or subconsciously) that I don’t need what He has to offer. Without question, prayerlessness must be considered one of the principle characteristics of the proud, and a grievous insult to our loving Savior.
Prayer is, in fact, the most powerful weapon the Lord provides for pummeling pride and for waging spiritual war against the presence of sin in my life.
Daily, the Lord waits to place this weapon in my hand, anxious to train me in its use. But rather than accepting His gracious gift and devoting time to the practice of prayer, rather than allowing the Spirit of God to instruct me in this martial art, I have often chosen to ignore the offer and to go about my daily business as if there were no need for such a weapon.
I may take the weapon in hand playfully from time to time, as if it were a toy; before meals and to open and close a meeting with other Christians. But I know next to nothing of its value as an instrument of war. And at this point, armed combat, face to face conflict in the spiritual realm is out of the question. Examples of answered prayer in my life? Well, I’d rather not talk about it. If I’m honest with myself, the thought of seeing God’s transforming power unleashed in response to my prayers seems almost mythical.
Now, those last few lines may have been slightly exaggerated, but I want to paint a disturbing picture that is, unfortunately, not entirely unlike the experience of many Christians with prayer (including myself at various stages of my journey in Christ). And the reality is that prayerlessness is an obvious sign of spiritual anemia. Andrew Murray says that:
Nothing so reveals a defective spiritual life as the lack of believing and unceasing prayer. Prayer is the pulse of the spiritual life. It is the great means of bringing (to believers) the blessing and power of heaven. Persevering and believing prayer means a strong and an abundant life (The Believer’s Prayer Life).
In the next several entries, I will be examining prayerlessness as a symptom of pride and spiritual sickness in my life. I invite your comments and insights. I sense that my participation in the dance of lowliness will be enhanced or hindered in direct relation to the nature of my investment in prayer. This means that any examination of my prayer life (weak and fragmented as it may be) will prove to be not just beneficial but essential to my progress in humility.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
shadow dancing
When I recognize that my need for a “witness” is actually a gift from a loving God who sees me and invites me to live in the light of His gracious gaze, I then must wrestle with the twisted craving for worldly attention that lingers in my heart. I have acknowledged this craving in previous posts, so the idea is not new. But, the fact is that my longing for attention persistently and covertly works its way into my motivations, perverting much of what I do and say in the course of a given day. Even the actions and words that I might intend to offer or appear to offer to the Lord can be infected by the disease.
So, what do I do about it? Certainly, I can and should be honest with the Lord about the problem, confessing my sin and inviting Him to transform my desires. But as I do that, I need to expect that He has heard my prayer and will answer it. This expectation moves me to be on the lookout for “helps” that the Lord will send my way to assist me in this battle against my ego-mania.
And what might such a help look like? I would suggest that any circumstance that places me in the shadows has the potential to prove highly useful as a weapon in this war. One of the best ways to destroy a sinful craving is to STARVE it. Unfortunately, as an American, I don’t like the word “starve” very much and am not used to depriving myself of things that my flesh really wants. Fasting, for example, is a spiritual discipline that I have been slow to cultivate. However, sin seems to be almost organic in nature, growing as it is fed and diminishing as it is deprived of nourishment. In the flesh, I am naturally drawn to opportunities and circumstances that will put my “star” qualities on display; that will earn me the attention and admiration that I am convinced I deserve. Unsurprisingly, the more often this desire is satisfied, the stronger it grows and the hungrier it becomes (like Audrey II in Little Shop of Horrors, “Feed me, Seymour!”).
But what happens when I find myself in someone else’s shadow? It may be the shadow of a highly successful parent, or of an older or younger sibling, or of a co-worker, or of a neighbor, or of a brother or sister in the church, or of my own spouse. The motivation to escape from the shadow of this person can be a powerful driving force. Something within me yearns to at least be recognized as their equal, if not their superior. I may find it difficult to appreciate their success or celebrate their victories. I may find it easy to quietly enjoy their failures or even find some twisted pleasure in their hardships. This person becomes for me an enemy, perhaps without ever having engaged in a single act of aggression against me. Why? Because I want the attention that they get.
Consider, though, how this relationship changes if I have been dancing the dance of lowliness, walking the path of humility. Let’s say I have confessed my craving for recognition to the Lord, and have admitted that I am not satisfied with living before an audience of One. I have asked Him to humble me and to refine me so that my joy is genuinely found in living for Him alone. Later that day, I am on the phone with my grandmother and she starts raving about how proud she is of my older sister (who is an imagined character in this imagined scenario). As numerous members of my family often do, my grandmother begins to run through a list of my sister’s accomplishments and admirable character traits. I can feel the resentment rising within me, as it has many times before.
But then, I’m reminded of the request that I recently made to the Lord, and I realize that this is perhaps the first of many helps from Him in stifling that need to be recognized and cultivating a comfort with the shadows. I can sense that my pride is really ticked off and it strikes me that this is actually a good thing. I settle into the moment, allowing my ego to take a hefty beating, and thanking the Lord for answering my prayer. In fact, if I really want to stick it to my pride, I may even add a couple of my own positive comments about my sister to the conversation. Before I know it, I find myself inwardly rejoicing each time someone praises my sister in my presence. What once depressed or enraged me inwardly, now brings delight because I recognize the experience for what it really is: a gracious gift from the Lord that helps me by humbling me, that lifts me by lowering me.
It really is amazing to consider the potential freedom that may come from embracing humility. How many people are there in my life who cast shadows over me in one way or another; shadows that I have until now deeply resented and fought to escape? How many relationships have been hindered by my jealousy of another person’s success? The dance of lowliness teaches me that spiritual success is often found far away from center stage. The steps of this dance often lead me away from the spotlight and into obscurity, as far as the world is concerned. But surprisingly, and paradoxically, I am coming to find that the light of God’s love shines brightest on those who gladly dance in the shadows. And the more I come to enjoy shadow dancing, the more capable I am of enjoying the people around me whose success and popularity and giftedness were once nothing more than a threat to my happiness.
So, what do I do about it? Certainly, I can and should be honest with the Lord about the problem, confessing my sin and inviting Him to transform my desires. But as I do that, I need to expect that He has heard my prayer and will answer it. This expectation moves me to be on the lookout for “helps” that the Lord will send my way to assist me in this battle against my ego-mania.
And what might such a help look like? I would suggest that any circumstance that places me in the shadows has the potential to prove highly useful as a weapon in this war. One of the best ways to destroy a sinful craving is to STARVE it. Unfortunately, as an American, I don’t like the word “starve” very much and am not used to depriving myself of things that my flesh really wants. Fasting, for example, is a spiritual discipline that I have been slow to cultivate. However, sin seems to be almost organic in nature, growing as it is fed and diminishing as it is deprived of nourishment. In the flesh, I am naturally drawn to opportunities and circumstances that will put my “star” qualities on display; that will earn me the attention and admiration that I am convinced I deserve. Unsurprisingly, the more often this desire is satisfied, the stronger it grows and the hungrier it becomes (like Audrey II in Little Shop of Horrors, “Feed me, Seymour!”).
But what happens when I find myself in someone else’s shadow? It may be the shadow of a highly successful parent, or of an older or younger sibling, or of a co-worker, or of a neighbor, or of a brother or sister in the church, or of my own spouse. The motivation to escape from the shadow of this person can be a powerful driving force. Something within me yearns to at least be recognized as their equal, if not their superior. I may find it difficult to appreciate their success or celebrate their victories. I may find it easy to quietly enjoy their failures or even find some twisted pleasure in their hardships. This person becomes for me an enemy, perhaps without ever having engaged in a single act of aggression against me. Why? Because I want the attention that they get.
Consider, though, how this relationship changes if I have been dancing the dance of lowliness, walking the path of humility. Let’s say I have confessed my craving for recognition to the Lord, and have admitted that I am not satisfied with living before an audience of One. I have asked Him to humble me and to refine me so that my joy is genuinely found in living for Him alone. Later that day, I am on the phone with my grandmother and she starts raving about how proud she is of my older sister (who is an imagined character in this imagined scenario). As numerous members of my family often do, my grandmother begins to run through a list of my sister’s accomplishments and admirable character traits. I can feel the resentment rising within me, as it has many times before.
But then, I’m reminded of the request that I recently made to the Lord, and I realize that this is perhaps the first of many helps from Him in stifling that need to be recognized and cultivating a comfort with the shadows. I can sense that my pride is really ticked off and it strikes me that this is actually a good thing. I settle into the moment, allowing my ego to take a hefty beating, and thanking the Lord for answering my prayer. In fact, if I really want to stick it to my pride, I may even add a couple of my own positive comments about my sister to the conversation. Before I know it, I find myself inwardly rejoicing each time someone praises my sister in my presence. What once depressed or enraged me inwardly, now brings delight because I recognize the experience for what it really is: a gracious gift from the Lord that helps me by humbling me, that lifts me by lowering me.
It really is amazing to consider the potential freedom that may come from embracing humility. How many people are there in my life who cast shadows over me in one way or another; shadows that I have until now deeply resented and fought to escape? How many relationships have been hindered by my jealousy of another person’s success? The dance of lowliness teaches me that spiritual success is often found far away from center stage. The steps of this dance often lead me away from the spotlight and into obscurity, as far as the world is concerned. But surprisingly, and paradoxically, I am coming to find that the light of God’s love shines brightest on those who gladly dance in the shadows. And the more I come to enjoy shadow dancing, the more capable I am of enjoying the people around me whose success and popularity and giftedness were once nothing more than a threat to my happiness.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
guest post: parent as witness
A friend recently posted the following as a comment on the entry entitled, "dancing in the dark." It advances the conversation in a way that I didn't want others to miss out on, just in case you don't read other people's comments. So, I am adding it as a guest post. Hope you enjoy and maybe you'll be provoked to respond with your own comments as well.
Rachel said:
Our interdependence, our inability to exist without mothers/fathers, our need to be watched is how life begins. Helpless babes cannot survive without being cared for(active witnessing)? As you note the need of a witness (caregiver), is indeed a God given basic instinct. An unattended child will disgrace his mother. The very act of being witnessed will provide the motivation to behave. It seems the corruption of this need is based in laziness. As a babysitter in college I used to think I had this incredible skill with children for I had very few problems with the children misbehaving. Now as a parent I understand why-I wasn't distracted. Now that I'm juggling reality and children I see when I'm not focused on interacting(active witnessing) is when bad behavior creeps in unnoticed. Witnessing is the essence of parenting,seeing/participating in the lives of our children. Giving them the peace that they are protected because someone is watching out for them. Someone wants front row in their life. It seems if parents took this reponsibility seriously, the transition to understanding the eternal eye of God would be natural. God wants to actively witness our lives--He wants to participate. When I draw near, He is always there. May we actively witness the lives of those we love and may we honor God by opening our lives to His active witness.
Rachel said:
Our interdependence, our inability to exist without mothers/fathers, our need to be watched is how life begins. Helpless babes cannot survive without being cared for(active witnessing)? As you note the need of a witness (caregiver), is indeed a God given basic instinct. An unattended child will disgrace his mother. The very act of being witnessed will provide the motivation to behave. It seems the corruption of this need is based in laziness. As a babysitter in college I used to think I had this incredible skill with children for I had very few problems with the children misbehaving. Now as a parent I understand why-I wasn't distracted. Now that I'm juggling reality and children I see when I'm not focused on interacting(active witnessing) is when bad behavior creeps in unnoticed. Witnessing is the essence of parenting,seeing/participating in the lives of our children. Giving them the peace that they are protected because someone is watching out for them. Someone wants front row in their life. It seems if parents took this reponsibility seriously, the transition to understanding the eternal eye of God would be natural. God wants to actively witness our lives--He wants to participate. When I draw near, He is always there. May we actively witness the lives of those we love and may we honor God by opening our lives to His active witness.
Friday, July 6, 2007
my audience
In my last post (“dancing in the dark”) I considered the idea that “we need a witness to our lives,” and I suggested that this longing may be related to the fact that we were created to live under the gaze of a God who sees us. What really interests me is the potential impact that this truth might have on our day to day living IF we really believed it. And that IF obviously suggests that we really don’t believe it. I think it is healthy for me to ask myself often: Who is my audience? Who am I putting this show on for? Whose opinion of my performance really matters? And if I were to consider my actions and words throughout the course of the day, and take a moment to examine the underlying motivations for these, I imagine it would not be very hard to identify who my audience really is.
Church is a great testing ground for this. I shudder as I think of the number of times that I have sat through an entire church service, singing the songs, listening to the message, taking the communion, perhaps even engaging in prayer without REALLY pondering the profound idea that God is there and that He sees me. If this is the case in church, how much more so throughout the rest of my week?
The up-side to this, of course, is that He really does see me. And that reality has the potential to be extremely liberating if I can grab hold of it. What a relief it would be to narrow the members of my audience down to One. I’m not suggesting that I intend to embrace a monastic lifestyle or live in isolation. Other people will see me; there is no way around it. And in fact, what they observe in my life may serve to advance God’s purposes in theirs. The issue here is not who is in the audience. The issue is who I am performing for.
How freeing it would be to ignore the voices of the critics and the flatterers, to live uninfluenced by what they will think and what they will say. To the extent that my attention may be fixed upon the face of the One who sees me, the One who knows me inside and out, the One who designed me and who understands how I function and why I function that way, to that extent will I find satisfaction and fulfillment in the life that I live on the world’s stage.
And this, I believe, proves to be true even when I am far removed from the world’s spotlight, when I do not occupy center stage. Perhaps, as I suggested near the end of my previous post, performing in the shadows on the world’s stage makes for a far more pleasing performance in the eyes of my Audience.
Hebrews 4:13
And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account.
Church is a great testing ground for this. I shudder as I think of the number of times that I have sat through an entire church service, singing the songs, listening to the message, taking the communion, perhaps even engaging in prayer without REALLY pondering the profound idea that God is there and that He sees me. If this is the case in church, how much more so throughout the rest of my week?
The up-side to this, of course, is that He really does see me. And that reality has the potential to be extremely liberating if I can grab hold of it. What a relief it would be to narrow the members of my audience down to One. I’m not suggesting that I intend to embrace a monastic lifestyle or live in isolation. Other people will see me; there is no way around it. And in fact, what they observe in my life may serve to advance God’s purposes in theirs. The issue here is not who is in the audience. The issue is who I am performing for.
How freeing it would be to ignore the voices of the critics and the flatterers, to live uninfluenced by what they will think and what they will say. To the extent that my attention may be fixed upon the face of the One who sees me, the One who knows me inside and out, the One who designed me and who understands how I function and why I function that way, to that extent will I find satisfaction and fulfillment in the life that I live on the world’s stage.
And this, I believe, proves to be true even when I am far removed from the world’s spotlight, when I do not occupy center stage. Perhaps, as I suggested near the end of my previous post, performing in the shadows on the world’s stage makes for a far more pleasing performance in the eyes of my Audience.
Hebrews 4:13
And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account.
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