Sunday, October 21, 2007

what hinders?

I have often blamed busyness for the lack of prayer in my life. So much to do, so little time to do it. But, I’m starting to think that this is probably a smoke screen for other problems that hinder my prayers. I’ve been thinking about 2 passages that the apostle Peter wrote in reference to prayer. The first, found in 1 Peter 3:7, is addressed to husbands. Peter encourages them to be considerate of their wives, treating them with respect as fellow heirs of God’s gracious gift of life. What’s really interesting is the incentive that he gives for living this way: “so that nothing will hinder your prayers.” In the next chapter of I Peter, he encourages believers in general to be “clear minded and self-controlled so that you can pray” (4:7). Peter seems to be saying that the way I treat my wife and the control that I exercise over my mind and my body have a direct impact on my prayers.

What strikes me is that my prayers can clearly be hindered by my actions. What I do, and even the way I think, can interfere with my prayer life. Does this mean that the Lord stops hearing my prayers? I actually think that this question reflects a common misunderstanding of how prayer works.

It is fairly common and natural to assume that prayer starts with us. We have a need that we present to the Lord. Our prayer makes Him aware of our need, or at least emphasizes it in some way that hopefully will move Him toward action. Then, the Lord either answers our prayer or He doesn’t (or as some like to explain it, He always answers our prayer, but His answer may be “no” or “wait”; this response has always bugged me for some reason, though it may be entirely true – maybe it seems like a cop-out).

However, one of my professors explained prayer this way: prayer starts in the will of God. The Lord has something He wants to accomplish. He makes His children aware of this desire. His children cry out to Him for the accomplishment of His will in this matter, and this sets the plan of God in motion.

When we think of prayer in this way, it becomes obvious that prayer, as does everything that relates to our spiritual life, starts and finishes with the gracious plan of God. This means that listening to the Lord, hearing the heart of God in prayer comes before speaking. In fact, our speaking in prayer is simply the overflow of God’s Spirit within us. As Romans 8 teaches, “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. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God’s will.”

If prayer starts with God, then hindrances must effect OUR hearing and not His. And if prayer starts with God, then a worthy question to ask would be: How can we pray if we can’t hear God? If we spend very little time in prayer, there is a good chance that this is because we rarely if ever hear God’s still, small voice. When we hear the Lord, we can’t help but pray. When we encounter God, we can’t help but long to draw near to Him.

Some would say, “you don’t hear God because you don’t spend enough time in prayer.” And although this statement may have some truth to it, I can think of no place in Scripture where our ability to hear God’s voice is linked to the amount of time we spend praying. Rather, as Peter points out, it would seem that our ability to pray (to hear from God and then respond to Him in accordance with His will) is greatly influenced by the way we live.

Something as simple as the way that I treat my wife, or my children, or my neighbor, or my boss may impact the extent to which I am able to hear the Lord today (I Peter 3:7). If I allow my mind to be cluttered by noise from the radio, from the internet, or from the television, I may struggle to hear the Lord today (I Peter 4:7). If I am consumed with worry about a relationship, a health problem, or a financial need, I may find it difficult to hear the Lord today (I Peter 4:7). If I fail to control my eating, my eyes, my words, or my heart attitude, I may be incapable of discerning the Lord’s still, small voice today (1 Peter 4:7).

And in each of these cases, it seems clear that if I do not hear from the Lord, I will find it very difficult to pray. My praying, if I try to pull it off anyway, may prove to be nothing more than an empty list of surface-level needs. It will lack the touch of the Spirit, that energizing authority and insight that characterize the kind of praying that responds to the revealed will of God spoken into my heart, inviting me to participate in the accomplishment of His plan for this day through prayer.

If I find myself unable to pray like this, it seems wise for me to ask myself: What is hindering my prayers today? I know that the Spirit of God is anxious to reveal all hindrances so that they may be eliminated, and so that the channels of communication with the Most High may flow freely once again.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

childlike or childish?

A wise friend posted a comment to my previous blog entry that I have been chewing on this past week. He reminded me, in the context of prayer, that children (and the childlike) are given special priority somehow before the Lord. This raised the following question for me: Is it really possible to learn about and grow in prayerfulness? If it is the simple and the childlike who are heard by the Lord, then wouldn’t any increase in knowledge or experience seem to work against us? I was troubled by this question until I remembered the importance of differentiating between the childlike and the childish.

Although the Lord clearly taught that His kingdom belongs to little children, He also chastised His disciples for their lack of understanding. For Him, childlikeness was an attitude of heart, not a state of mind. In Luke 22, when the disciples began to argue amongst themselves (much like little children I must say) over who was the greatest, Jesus rebuked them saying, “let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves.” Similarly, in Mattew 18, Jesus said that, “whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” In both cases, there seems to be a conscious decision (on the part of one who might have reason to brag) to embrace an attitude of lowliness. And it is this willful decision, not ignorance or inexperience, that Jesus commends.

I was struck earlier this week by a passage from Ephesians 4, which includes these words: “. . . until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves . . .” The apostle Peter, in his firt letter, challenges his readers in a similar way: “Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up to salvation – if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good.”

So, while there is certainly a shrinking down of our pride in childlike self-abandon as we draw near to the Lord, there is also a growing up of our spirit through disciplines rooted in grace. The two most fundamental disciplines of grace seem to be prayer and feeding upon God’s Word.

That was a lengthy entry, the soul purpose of which was to make the point that there is a place for thoughtful interaction about the nature and practice of prayer. Unfortunately, our adult minds seem to work against us when it comes time to embrace a childlike attitude before the Lord in prayer. Thankfully, there are practices that can be learned, both from the Lord Himself and from His disciples throughout the centuries who have themselves discovered ways to overcome their childish distractedness and hyperactivity as they humbly seek the Lord for grace to pray.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

how to: part 1

So what do you do if you find it difficult to pray? It’s true that entire libraries could be filled with all of the pages of print that have been devoted to this subject. In light of this humbling reality, I must admit that I have nothing new or revolutionary to add. However, in the next few entries, I will pass on a few insights that I have found particularly helpful.

In the past few months, I have been using passages from God’s Word as a kind of mental anchor during my times of prayer. I am easily distracted when alone in my “prayer closet.” It can be hard to sit still, both physically and mentally, which makes it difficult to enter into the Lord’s rest. And yet, I am finding that the first step in a fruitful moment of prayer is to enter into the Lord’s rest. The Word helps me to take this step.

Before I continue with that thought, let me back up a moment and point out what prayer is NOT. Unfortunately, in ignorance, I have given much time in the past to an activity that I thought was prayer, but that really wasn’t. This activity was often frustrating and unfulfilling for me, but I didn’t know why. After all, I was praying!! Or, so I thought. Although I had often heard people speak of prayer as “conversation” with God, I never really grasped (or perhaps even believed in) what that really meant. The activity that I mistook for prayer was a one-way monologue in which I verbally presented a list of requests to God in hopes that He would hear and answer. Deep down I knew that this was not at all relational or interactive, but I was unaware of any other way to go about it.

I am convinced that one reason why so many believers find themselves giving little if any time to prayer is because they have yet to grasp what prayer really is, much less how to put it into practice. One challenging thing about prayer is that it is counter-cultural to the core. Genuine prayer revolves around practices that are very unnatural and even foreign to us. An obvious reason for that is because prayer is participation in a relationship with a Being that is from an entirely different realm of existence. It is the most extreme form of cross-cultural encounter.

I mentioned above that the first step in commencing a moment of prayer is to enter the Lord’s rest. What does that mean? Though it is still somewhat of a mystery to me, I can say that entering the Lord’s rest has something to do with mentally and spiritually crossing from one state into another. It is removing myself from the whirlwind of work and worry, in order to enter into the peaceful and patient presence of my Lord. It is here, in this foreign place (though I must say that it becomes more and more familiar with time) that genuine prayer emerges. And I use the term emerges because often I find that, once I have entered this place of rest in the Lord’s presence, words seem to escape from my mouth directly from my heart without having taken the long-way round through my mind.

There is much more to say about this entering of the Lord’s rest as a precursor for genuine prayer, but let me finish this entry by acknowledging that I have found the Word to be an invaluable help in this endeavor. And it truly is an endeavor. Making the transition from a “normal” mental state into this other restful place that I am referring to is no easy stroll through the park. My mind is bombarded by distractions: things that need to be done today, ideas for future projects, faces of people I should contact, lyrics for new songs or poems, a lengthy list of requests that I know I should pray for . . . aaaaah!! Get me out of here!!

But if I start with a simple passage from God’s word, it gives me something to hang on to when these waves of distraction start to pound me from within. Often, I will choose a short phrase, like, “his grace is sufficient for me.” I may repeat that phrase over and over again for several minutes as I allow my thoughts to calm down and my pulse to slow a bit. Eventually I start to sense the peace of the Lord descending upon me and I will feel the liberty to begin to interact with Him.

I will discuss more of what this interaction can look like in a future entry, but for now, let it be said that often as this interaction takes place, the distractions will return. It is at these moments, when I realize that I am off track, that I have left the place of rest momentarily, that I turn back to my passage once again: his grace is sufficient for me . . . his grace is sufficient for me . . . his grace is sufficient for me. Soon, in fact, this time round it will happen much more quickly than when I first started, I will find the peace and rest returning, and once again will sense the liberty to continue in prayer.

In closing, does this mean that the Lord doesn’t hear the rushed requests that we so often throw His way? I am by no means suggesting that. The Lord knows that we are weak and ignorant children, much more like sheep even than children. He is anxious to hear us and anxious to meet our need. However, what I am suggesting is that the activity of prayer that He invites us into is something far more wonderful and transformational than many of us have come to know or experience. And this is why the disease of prayerlessness is so rampant among us.

Come and heal our disease, dear Lord. Please teach us to pray. Amen.