Thoughts on Prayer – Part 2

By David A. Liapis

…Continued from earlier.

Another way we go wrong when it comes to prayer is when we view it solely as a means to an end. Now, prayer certainly can be a means that accomplishes an end in that we pray with an expectation God will hear and answer. But when seeking an answer or drawing closer to God though prayer as a spiritual discipline, both of which are good and Biblical reasons to pray, becomes the default all the time, we’re missing something. That something is what Jesus taught us by His example of prayer. He is God. When He was here, did He really have the same kinds of needs we do? In His humanity, some. Did He need to confess sin and seek reconciliation as we so often do? No. I would argue that much of the time Jesus spent in prayer with His Father was Jesus just “being” with the Father. Prayer for us needs to be an end, not just a means. Sometimes we just need to be with God. Be honest with Him. Talk to Him like a child to a Father. Don’t ask for anything. Don’t pray for anyone. Just share what’s on your heart and then listen. Be still and learn to hear the voice of God. It’s hard! I know. I’ve tried, and I usually last about five minutes.

So, why we should pray for others, and what power does prayer truly possess? I mentioned already that I think prayer serves two main functions – to humble us and conform our will to God’s will – but there are some others as well. As it relates to others, I think it really matters. When we tell someone we’re praying for them, it’s a lot more encouraging than saying “I’ll be thinking about you.” What does my thinking about someone’s problem really do other than maybe make them feel good knowing they are cared for? But to be interceding on their behalf to the God of the Universe? That’s a different story. But, what happens when I pray for someone and the prayer seems unanswered or not answered in the way we wanted? Did my prayer fail? Does God not care? Is God unable to answer? I’d argue that sometimes we don’t tell people we’ll pray for them because we’re afraid.

James sheds some light on that when he says that we should say, “If the Lord wills we will do this or that.” Is that a lack of faith to give God, and prayer, an “out” if things don’t go our way? I say no. It’s wise and Biblical to pray “If the Lord wills” or “Not my will, but thine be done.” What we have to do is set expectations and frame the narrative of our offer of prayer by saying that we’ll pray specifically for such and such a thing, but that we’ll also pray for the strength and grace to accept God’s will, whatever it may be. That’s not a faithless prayer, as some might contend. Rather, it’s a prayer that acknowledges that just because God can, does not mean He will. Only He knows His ultimate plan and what’s best for us, even when it includes suffering. We should pray that people will see the purpose behind the suffering, or at least learn to trust that God has a reason and a plan. If we can’t trust in the goodness and sovereignty of God, we’re hopeless and prayer is more than a waste of time – it’s a cruel joke. But, since God is both good and sovereign, the deficiency is always with us and our lack of faith and/or understanding of the situation.

It really comes down to faith. The Bible says to pray, so we do. The Bible says there is power in prayer, so we believe it. The Bible tells us/shows us to pray for others, so we do. The Bible tells us God hears our prayers, but that sometimes they are not answered in the way or in the time we want for a variety of reasons (Daniel and Zechariah). When we pray for something and it happens, we are reminded and encouraged that God hears and answers and our faith is strengthened. When we pray and don’t get the answer we want, our faith is challenged; but if we persevere even when it doesn’t make sense, our faith is strengthened. When we hear someone has been praying for us, we are reminded of the love and unity we share in Christ and our faith is strengthened.

The bottom line is that no matter what happens when we pray, our faith can be strengthened if we have the right perspective. It’s really hard to have that perspective sometimes, especially in times of intense pain and suffering; but that’s when we need to pray and pour our hearts out to the Lord that much more. It’s impossible for an unbeliever to understand any of this because it takes spiritual eyes to see the purpose and power of prayer.

I know I didn’t give a “nailed it!” answer, and I don’t know if we’ll ever find one this side of heaven. I still don’t fully understand prayer, nor do most people. If someone has figured it out completely and written a book about it, I have not heard of it. The fact there are so many books and opinions on the topic shows that it’s fraught with difficulty, so be encouraged if you struggle with prayer. You’re not alone in your quest to grasp the meaning of this thing we’re taught to do as a primary spiritual discipline.

Thoughts on Prayer – Part 1

By David A. Liapis

Any Christian who’s really honest with themselves has asked, or is still asking, the question “why pray?” A study of the subject will reveal thousands of books, commentaries and opinions about prayer, and it seems no matter how much one reads or may see the logic in an argument, it’s still hard to reconcile it in one’s own mind; and it’s even harder to communicate what squishy conclusions are drawn, if any.

My mom left this world for real life a little more than two years ago. What was harder for me to reconcile was not just her death, but her death in light of her life. Why did God let her suffer so much and for so long (like 18 years) with a lung disease that eventually had her struggling for the breath to even walk around the house? She was so faithful to Him – spending time reading, praying and journaling for hours every day, serving until she physically couldn’t in various ministries, etc. She was a model Christian, and yet God let her suffer and never healed her in spite of many prayers from her and all of us. I have wrestled with many questions related to prayer, and her passing certainly prompted more.

I have come to the conclusion that prayer serves two main purposes (I’m definitely not the first to say this). First, prayer humbles us. Through prayer, we acknowledge our needy, helpless position before God (supplication), we acknowledge His greatness and our depravity (worship, adoration), and we serve others by spending our time and energy on them (intercession). Proud people don’t pray. Humble, loving people open their apertures and think about others and their needs long and often enough to devote time in prayer for them.

The second thing prayer does is that it’s a bending of the will. But, whose will is being bent? It often becomes our attempt to bend God’s will ours. We have so many things we want, and we think we know what’s best for us and for others. However, God uses prayer to bend our will to His. This takes humility and a willingness to be wrong about what we think is best as well as a willingness to not know or understand why God’s will is what it is or why His timing is not in line with ours.

Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, is a good example. When Gabriel visited him in the temple, he said, “Your prayers have been heard…” I don’t know about you, but I suspect Zechariah had probably not prayed for a child for a long time, maybe like 20 years. It’s speculation, but I base it on what we know of his age as well as his response to the angel’s message – doubt. He couldn’t see how it was possible for him, or his wife whom he said was “advanced in years,” to have a child. If he was still praying for a child at that point, it must have been a faithless prayer. I prefer to believe he had prayed that prayer many, many times … up to a point – the point he thought it no longer possible for his prayer to be answered. However, God was going to answer, but in His time.

Another example I look at is Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. Even Jesus prayed for the plan to change if possible, but was willing to submit Himself to the Father’s will – which included being crushed under the holy wrath of the Father for our sins. When Jesus taught His disciples to pray, He instructed them to say, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Ultimately, the example is to express our desire for God’s will to be done, which it will undoubtedly be, in a way that implicitly or explicitly bends our will to His no matter how much or little we understand or like it.

Psalm 37:4 says that when we delight ourselves in the Lord, He gives us the desires of our heart. But what does that really mean? That God will give me what I want? No. Rather it means God will give me the desires He wants me to have. What I want will become what He wants when I delight in Him.

To be continued…

Resignation vs. Joyful Submission

By David A. Liapis

“Inshallah.” During my time living in Turkey I heard this word, meaning “if Allah wills,” or “as Allah wills it,” uttered casually hundreds of times by many Turks in an array of circumstances. Although it seemed to be largely a colloquial expression (think, “stuff happens” or “let’s hope so”) more than an actual faith-based assertion, it was still telling of the attitude the Turks had towards the concept of divine intervention, fate, chance or whatever one might call it. At the core it was a cognitive resignation to the events and circumstances outside the control of the individual, much like when Christians say, “if the Lord wills it” or “it was the Lord’s will.”

I have found in my own life that I am disposed to acquiescing to God’s will in a very casual, non-faith-based way. I’m of the Calvinist persuasion theologically and, therefore, have a high view of God’s sovereignty and His providential control over all things. I get it, I accept it, and I “roll” with it. It helps me to make sense of the world I live in regardless of the goodness or badness of any given situation. Yet, in spite of the far-reaching realities of what I believe and the effect such beliefs should have on me, I too often find that my attitude toward God’s sovereign will is more of resignation than of joy.

I believe there is one major contributing factor – prayerlessness. Philip Ryken said, “In prayer we surrender our will to God’s will. Prayer is not a way of getting God to do what we want him to do; rather, it is a way of submitting to God’s will in all things.” (Ryken, 2003, p. 19) If our will is not in conformity God’s, then God’s will will often be contrary to what we desire and long for. This, of course, results in joyless resignation rather than joyful agreement. We go along with God’s will, sometimes grudgingly, because we know we can’t thwart it and we might as well not “kick against the goads” and resist it. I can say from personal experience that this is not a pleasant place to live.

This type of mindset can lead to many dangerous things in a Christian’s life – legalism, ineffectiveness in evangelism because of a lack of joy, fatalism leading to spiritual and evangelical paralysis and more. However, the antithesis to this resigned submission to God’s will is to receive with joy all things because we believe and trust the promises of Romans 8:28-30. It’s certainly possible to believe “all things work together for good” as a resigned believer. I have done it for many years. However, there’s no joy in it.

Imagine Eeyore the donkey saying, “Well, I guess I just have to believe this will work out for my good since God said it would,” versus Joy, from the movie Inside Out, saying, “This is totally going to be awesome because God is in control and this is His will!” Both ways of thinking assert faith in the promises of God, both trust that God’s will is best and will ultimately lead to “good” for the Christian, but the difference is in the attitude; and, I would argue that the attitude we have toward God’s will is primarily affected by the health of our prayer life.

John Piper once said in a sermon,

One of the clearest demonstrations that the pursuit of our joy and the pursuit of God’s glory are meant to be one and the same pursuit is the teaching of Jesus on prayer in the gospel of John. The two key sayings are John 14:13 and 16:24. The one shows that prayer is the pursuit of God’s glory. The other shows that prayer is the pursuit of our joy. In John 14:13 Jesus says, “Whatever you ask in my name, I will do it, that the Father may be glorified in the Son.” In John 16:24 he says, “Hitherto you have asked nothing in my name; ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full.” The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. And the chief act of man by which the unity of these two goals is preserved is prayer. Therefore, Christian Hedonists who pursue in God’s glory the fullness of their own joy will above all be people of prayer. Just like the thirsty deer buckles down to drink at the brook, so the characteristic posture of the Christian Hedonist is on his knees. (Piper, 1983)

I write this as a “resigned believer” who is in great need of a reformed and revitalized prayer life. I write this as a way or remembrance of what I believe the Lord has revealed to me today as well as a means of hopefully encouraging any other “resigned believers” out there who long for the “joy of our salvation” to be restored.

Just rest, my child

I wrote this allegorical poem a few months ago after some circumstantial inspiration from my little Noelle.
Just rest, my child

You hear the sound of silence and think you’re all alone
As if those you know have quietly slipped out the door
The fear of loneliness grips you
In a panic you jolt up and look around
Your heart beats quickly and your eyes open wide as you search the room

You can only see me dimly as through a fog
Yet when you realize I am there
Your heart slows and your eyes close once again
Just rest, my child I am watching over you
Return to your peace, be still and know that I am a good Father

In the dimness of the early morning you catch a glimpse of me
But that brief sight is all you needed
“My father is here. He is strong. He watches over me. Whom shall I fear?”
These thoughts, though not even fully formed or contemplated
Calm your mind and soul
Just rest, my child. I am watching over you

Made in China

By David A. Liapis

Yesterday morning I was coming out of the gym, and there happened to be a woman about to come in the same door from which I was about to exit. Now, whether it was the fact I looked (and probably smelled) like I just finished a workout, or that she didn’t want the door held open for her, she didn’t seem pleased with my gesture of kindness. As I started my run back home, I couldn’t help but conjecture why she responded that way as well as why I feel compelled to hold doors open for women.

My door-propping tendencies, which many today would slam as “sexist,” “misogynistic” relics of the “patriarchy,” can be traced back to my childhood where I saw my dad open doors for my mom. He taught me by his actions and his words that women are special and are to be honored, cherished and protected. Of course, this mindset toward women was not original to him, nor many, many generations in various culture who came before him. This concept is highlighted in a letter written almost 2,000 years ago that was included in the most popular and widely read book in history – the Bible.

1 Peter 3:7 says, “Likewise, husbands, live with your wives in an understanding way, showing honor to the woman as the weaker vessel, since they are heirs with you of the grace of life, so that your prayers may not be hindered.” Paul the Apostle also says in Ephesians 5:25-30, “Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church, because we are members of his body.”

What we see in these and other passages from the Bible are clear truths about gender roles and characteristics, played out over thousands of years. Men and women are distinct, different, and have designated, complimentary roles. I’m not ignoring the verses that feminists hate about wives being submissive, but I do want to ensure it’s understood that the Bible calls husbands to love their wives sacrificially and treat them better than themselves. Women are called “weaker” in the Bible, but that adjective isn’t meant to be negative or imply that women are of less value than men. In fact, men are called to give special honor to women because of how they are made. It’s this concept, although significantly diluted and overt as it was even 100 years ago, that compels some men, like me, to show preference and honor to women by doing simple things like holding doors ajar and letting them enter or exit first.

My father treated my petite mother like fine China – fragile in body and emotion, yet elegant and precise. Some women might be described as thick crystal – costly, breakable, but not as fragile as other materials. Either way, a sensible person will care for their valuable China or crystal and allow their beauty to shine forth. A man who is obedient to the Bible will honor, cherish and love in sickness and in health his wife, treating her in such a way that her Biblical obedience through submission will be a joy to her. I saw my dad do this until my mom, the fragile China she was, succumb to a chronic and incurable lung disease. It’s because of how he treated her that I say I was made in China.

The Difference Between Love and Pity

By David A. Liapis

 

Love identifies with people, seeing itself as a partaker in humanity, suffering, pain and joy. It empathizes with people, not thinking of itself higher than it ought; rather, it sees itself as vulnerable to all the experiences of life.

On the other hand, pity stands above and at a safe distance from humble experience. Although it acknowledges need in the lives of others, it sees itself as immune from their lowly plight. It may offer kind sounding words such as, “Oh, I feel bad for you,” but true empathetic feeling is absent.

An example of this would be a beggar, homeless person or some other segment of the very poor population, and how love vs. pity interacts with them. Pity says, “You poor thing, I feel sorry you don’t have a better life. Here’s something to ease your suffering. Now let me get on with my life.” Love says, “I’ve been there (or could end up there). I know what you’re going through. How can I help meet your needs, because that’s what I’d like someone to do if I were in your shoes.”

The key difference between love and pity is not necessarily the outward expression, as both may well result in expressed consolation and material provision for those in need. The real difference is the benefactor’s attitude. The loving person is humble enough to identify with the lowly, knowing they have been or could easily be there (or, are maybe even there at the present time). They see themselves as no better intrinsically as a human being (total depravity), and who may be better off only by the grace of God working through circumstances outside their control. Conversely, those who pity look down on the lowly, unwilling to see themselves as vulnerable and the same as anyone else apart from their prosperity.

How easily could Jesus have only looked on us with pity? He is the only one who could have legitimately stood far above and apart from fallen humanity and expressed feelings of pity, and maybe even offered some token of benevolence.  Thanks be to God though, He humbled Himself and not only experienced humanity, but became sin for us, though He sinned not. Therefore, He loves us and shows us true compassion, rather than just pities our fallen condition. He has experienced the deepest depths of sorrow, walked this earth in our shoes, and shown Himself to be the ultimate example of love.

Theology of the Past

By David A. Liapis

I had another dream last night related to my past. This has been happening more regularly in the past few weeks. At first, I wasn’t concerned about it since those kinds of dreams fill my unconscious mind from time to time. However, the number and vividness of these dreams got me wondering if there’s something I need to address. As I consider my current situation, I must admit I don’t prefer this location. Some might call me crazy since I live across the street from the beach in sunny Florida. However, I am a lover of mountains, forests and cool, dry air. I would trade every beach in the world for the banks of an icy stream winding through a canyon shaded by towering pines and granite monoliths. But I digress.

There are few, if any, of us who don’t think about the past from time to time. Some like to reminisce on “the good old days,” wishing things were more that again. Others think of the days gone by with regret or anger, and are sometimes unwilling to “let go of the past” and move on and/or forgive. Others read or write history books, or spend time unearthing artifacts and analyzing data that helps us learn from the past. There are various ways and varying degrees to which we are all retrospective and connect our minds to the past for diverse reasons.
I admit I have spent more time than I should have thinking about past events over the years – things I’ve said, things I’ve done, things I wish I’d said or done – but to what end? Regret? Thankfulness? To learn what to say or do, or what not to say or do in the future? Is the past a tutor or a tyrant, or both? Moreover, how does thinking about the yesterday make me more Christlike? What is a healthy theology of the past?
The first two ways in which dwelling too long in the past can easily lead to sin, or be the result of sin, are ungratefulness and discontentment (which often accompany each other). Both of these, as they relate to thinking about the past is almost like the chicken and the egg debate – which comes first? Am I ungrateful or discontent because I’m thinking about the past, or am I discontent or ungrateful and thus think about the past longingly? Either way, I am in danger of sinning, if not fully immersed in the act.
2 Timothy 3:2 includes ungratefulness in a list of very undesirable characteristics of sinful people in the latter days. Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians 10 about the Israelites who died in the desert because they “displeased” the Lord with their unbelief and grumbling (discontentment and ungratefulness). It’s not difficult to find verses in the Bible about thankfulness. There are hundreds. It’s abundantly clear that we are called to be thankful people, not those who wish we had more presently and think about what we had (as the Israelites did when they longed for the food they had in Egypt). The one verse that really sums it up is 1 Thessalonians 5:18 that says, “Give thanks in all circumstances, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” In light of that verse and hundreds of others, I believe it’s okay to think about the past so long as the result is that we give thanks to God and remember all He has done for us. This is a common theme throughout the Bible. However, if our thinking about the past leads to discontentment (about the past, present or future), we need to refocus on something that point our thoughts back the Lord. The cross of Christ is ALWAYS the best place to start.
A third way in which an overly past-focused mindset can trip us up is that we neglect to consider the present and, especially, the future. Uncle Rico from the movie Napoleon Dynamite is an extreme example of someone who can’t live in the present because they are so caught up in the past (in his case, 1982). Our history has shaped us into who we are, and that history is important to remember insofar as it reminds us of God’s providential care and plan that has brought us to where we are. Conversely, dwelling on what could have been, or what we think should have been (here comes that discontentment again), can hinder our ability to live in the present and prepare for the future. Paul tells the church in Philippi that because of Christ, he considers all he once thought to be important and defining to be rubbish, and instead forgets what was so he can strain forward for what will be. We see in Philippians 3, as well as Colossians 3 among other places, that our focus needs to be on striving for the goal of Christlikeness and future glory with our risen Lord. If my thoughts about where I used to live, the friends I used to have, the place I used to work, or even the closeness of the relationship I once had with Jesus don’t help me become more holy, they are thoughts that need to be taken captive in obedience to Christ (2 Cor 10) and replaced with thoughts that point to where Christ is, seated at the right hand of the Father (Col 3).
The past is the past and it can’t be undone. Thoughts about it can be beneficial, but they can also easily become a hinderance to holiness. May our prayers be filled with thanksgiving for what the Lord has done, but even more so what He will do to conform us to the image of Christ in this life, and eventually gather us to Himself in the life to come.