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Category: Prayer (Page 18 of 29)

Pray for Judy

October 31, 2011 / / 0 Comments

“Is anyone among you sick? Let them call the elders of the church to pray over them and anoint them with oil in the name of the Lord.” ~James 5:13-15

I’ve sometimes heard about churches and elders who take these words of the New Testament literally. And seriously. I’ve always admired that in a group of church leaders. It’s certainly outside our normal box. It’s stepping away from our cultural comfort zone.  And I’ve been curious. I’ve wondered. What does that look like? How much oil does one use? And where do you buy the oil?

The anointing with oil is certainly a cultural and contextual thing in Scripture. It probably had something to do with perceived medicinal beliefs. It could have even just been superstitious. But I’ve always thought that the wisdom of actually anointing a sick person with oil today is in the human touch it requires. In the closeness it demands. The intimacy and relationship that’s necessary. In other ways — and I hope I’m not stretching this too far — I can see how this anointing with oil can function in a sacramental way. The touch and the oil can certainly represent in a physical way what our God is doing in a way that can’t be seen or smelled. It can point to that healing. It can signify the compassion and care that God feels and the provision and protection he promises.

For a long time I’ve thought it would be good to belong to a church and serve with a group of shepherds who practiced this praying and anointing with oil. And now I do.

Yesterday we prayed with and for Judy Newton.

Judy has been diagnosed with cancerous tumors in her brain. It just happened three weeks ago. The doctors are giving her little hope. Nothing but bad news. She’s endured one surgery and is bracing now for weeks of grueling treatments. She and her husband Lanny are beloved members of this Body of Believers at Central. Their faith is inspiring. Their commitment to God and to one another is powerful. Their belief that he is doing something great with them and through them is real.

But they’re hurting. They’re devastated. They’ve had the rug ripped out from under them and they’re not sure what’s coming next.

Judy and Lanny are in Houston tonight — they flew out early this afternoon — in line for a full week’s worth of tests and evaluations and treatments at M. D. Anderson. And yesterday they asked the elders to pray for Judy and to anoint her with oil.

So we went to her house and prayed. Several of us, a bunch of us, I’m not really sure how many of us, showed up at Lanny and Judy’s house to lift her up to our Father in prayer. Ministers and shepherds and all our spouses.

Tim explained to Judy that we don’t really understand fully the significance behind the oil. But, at the same time, we take it seriously. And literally. He told Judy that there is something to the physical touch that goes along with the prayer. There’s something about faithful obedience. There’s something about symbolizing what God is doing, how he is active, in our prayers. And then he took the oil and gently applied a couple of drops to Judy’s forehead.

And we prayed.

All of us. On our knees. Hands on Judy and Lanny. Arms around one another. With tears and tight throats. Eloquently and, at times, haltingly. At once feeling wholly inadequate for the task and perfectly at peace that God’s Spirit is doing all the work. All of us. Begging God to heal her. Confessing to God that we don’t understand. Wrestling with God. Praising God. On our knees before the Creator of heaven and earth, praying for his daughter Judy.

E. M. Bounds once said that prayer does not prepare us for greater works; it IS the greater work. I believe that. And so does the church family at Central. We believe in the power of prayer. We believe our God hears the faithful cries of his children. And we continue to lift up to him our sweet sister Judy.

I would ask you to please pray for Judy, too. Pray for healing. Pray for comfort and peace. Pray that our God would remove from Judy’s body all the horrible things that would cause her pain and do her harm. Pray that God’s name would be glorified in Lanny and Judy through this dark trial. And pray that our Lord’s holy will be done in her life just as it is in heaven.

Their precious daughter, Aleisha, is updating Judy’s battle every day on a blog. You can get to it by clicking here.

Peace,

Allan

Together in Prayer

October 30, 2011 / / 5 Comments

In the first century, Israel was ruled by Rome. The Roman Empire reigned supreme. There were Roman garrisons in every city; there were Roman soldiers on every street. The Jews were allowed their religious laws and festivals, but all under tight Roman restrictions. Upstart priests were arrested; rebels were mercilessly crushed. And groups of God’s people who were known as Zealots began to lash out in anger and violence.

As Roman rule became more oppressive the Zealots stashed their hillside hideouts with swords and spears and daggers. There were secret killings, public assassinations, and bloody revolts. The Zealots were committed to a life of violence against the Roman government. They challenged the presence of Roman soldiers; they provoked the Roman armies. And by July of 67 A.D., the violence escalated to the point that 40,000 Galileans were massacred in the hills outside Nazareth.

Zealots were admired by the Jews for their courage. They were honored by the Jews for their dedication to God’s cause and for standing up for what’s right. Zealots were heroes. And the violence continued to accelerate.

As the land we live in today becomes less Christian — or as the Church becomes more Christian — I believe it’s absolutely realistic for us disciples to be labeled and/or targeted by the government. As time goes on in this country, I think it’s feasible that Christians could come to be associated with dangerous radicals, to be blacklisted, to come under closer government scrutiny, to lose our tax-exempt status, maybe even to be arrested.

So, how do Christians respond?

As the realization sets in that we do not live in a Christian nation, I’m afraid that we Christians are guilty of lashing out in anger and violence. We’re more like the Zealots than we ought to be.

Lengthy petitions. Angry letters to the editor. Hate filled emails that are forwarded and re-forwarded and forwarded again. Malicious videos. Spiteful attitudes. And we fight and we rally and we march. And we target a certain political party and we classify a particular political ideology as evil. And we blast away. Both barrels.

When the government put the screws to God’s people in the first century, the Zealots responded by killing with their swords.

When the government clamps down on God’s people today, I’m afraid we respond by killing with our words.

Our risen Lord Jesus says killing with swords and killing with words is the exact same thing.

In the early days of God’s Church, Peter and John were arrested for preaching and teaching the resurrection of Jesus. They were questioned by the authorities and then ordered to stop speaking in the name of Jesus. 

Upon their release, Peter hurried home to Capernaum where he immediately wrote a scathing letter to the Sanhedrin in which he referred to Caiaphas as a flaming liberal and questioned his citizenship and his sexuality and made copies of the letter for all the apostles.

No.

Peter drew the dagger from his belt, the one he had used in the garden the night Jesus was betrayed and, shouting “Jesus is Lord!” he ran it through Caiaphas, killing him, while John plotted the destruction of the evidence.

No.

“On their release, Peter and John went back to their own people and reported all that the chief priests and elders had said to them. When they heard this, they raised their voices together in prayer to God.” ~Acts 4:23-24

Yes.

May we be a people who never ever lash out against those who oppress us. May we never attempt to injure anyone with swords or with words. And when resistance to the Kingdom and opposition to our Christ gets worse in this land, may we find our strength and our comfort with each other. May we respond to political crisis and government hostility in united, fiery, passionate, intense prayer to our Father. May we be bold to continue preaching and teaching in the name of Christ Jesus, our King. And may our God act in mighty ways to further his Word and advance his eternal Kingdom.

Peace,

Allan

The Prayer of the Fellowship

October 11, 2011 / / 0 Comments

If I were Skip Bayless, I would have headlined today’s post:

“Rain-gers Cruz to Detroit with 2-0 Lead!” 

I received the news of Nellie’s 11th inning drive via David Byrnes’ iPhone during Valerie’s choir performance at Amarillo High School. The Rangers won it right in the middle of Jubilate Deo. It means sing with joy to the Lord. And we did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yesterday’s post about our congregational prayer for Judy has pushed me even farther in reflecting on the importance of public prayer. So many times our hurried efforts at the pulpit or, worse, our rambling ruminations and repetition betray a careless attitude toward this sacred activity among the saints in the presence of God on his holy ground. Congregational prayer is never to be entered into lightly. It is serious. It’s heavy. It requires forethought and preparation. And it demands relationship. You really can’t pray appropriately for your brother unless you really know your brother.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer says as much in Life Together. And I agree.

“The prayer in the common devotion should be the prayer of the fellowship and not that of the individual who is praying. It is his responsibility to pray for the fellowship. So he will have to share the daily life of the fellowship; he must know the cares, the needs, the joys and thanksgivings, the petitions and hopes of the others. Their work and everything they bring with them must not be unknown to him. He prays as a brother among brothers. It will require practice and watchfulness, if he is not to confuse his own heart with the heart of the fellowship, if he is really to be guided solely by his responsibility to pray for the fellowship.”

If you’re asking people to lead prayers in your assemblies, please don’t wait until the day before to make that call. Give them several days, maybe a full week or more, to pray and prepare and practice for this awesome task. And if you’re leading these public prayers on behalf of an entire group of Christian brothers and sisters, by all means please take great care in the things you say and the ways you say them. Pray about it first, just between you and God; you’re going to need his help. Prepare the congregational prayer in advance; write down the words. Practice it; know what you’re going to say when you dare to address the Creator of Heaven and Earth.

Above all, remember that you are praying on behalf of the group. And that sanctifies you. It transforms you. Because when you intercede for others before the throne of God and focus more on their needs than your own, you are being like our Christ who always lives to intercede for us.

Peace,

Allan

Homothumadon

October 10, 2011 / / 3 Comments

Our church at Central experienced homothumadon here together yesterday morning. Homothumadon is my second favorite Greek word from the New Testament, right behind koinonia. Homothumadon appears throughout the book of Acts to describe a fiery unity. It means passionate togetherness; emotional and active unity; intense and fevered oneness.

We had that here yesterday when we prayed to God together for our dear sister Judy Newton.

I had only anticipated a few of the people sitting around Lanny and Judy would actually gather around her and place their arms around her and hold her hands while we lifted up a congregational prayer on her behalf. She was diagnosed Friday afternoon with a couple of brain lesions in an out-of-the-blue, ambush, rip-the-rug-out-from-under-you, punch to the stomach, what-in-the-world-do-we-do-now kind of way. I was ready to lead that congregational prayer for her yesterday morning, but before I could start, people began getting up and walking over to Lanny and Judy and crowding around her in a spontaneous show of compassion and solidarity.

They came from all over our worship center. Those immediately behind and next to Judy wrapped their arms around her. But then a few people stood up to join them. And then a few more people. They came from a couple of rows over and from clear across the sanctuary. From the front and back and the middle. Young and old. People who’ve known Lanny and Judy for thirty years and people who’ve never met them. Men and women were crawling over people in their own pews to reach Judy. It’s a “preacher’s count,” I acknowledge, but I’m guessing almost a hundred of Judy’s brothers and sisters made their way to be with her during that prayer.

And I was so inspired. Yes, I thought, this is not doing church; this is being church.

As I watched the people stream toward Judy and surround her with love, I also became somewhat intimidated by my pressing task. As I waited and waited and waited while these people kept coming and coming and coming, I began to feel wholly inadequate for wording a prayer that would properly honor these folks, most of whom I still barely know, and these relationships, all of which I haven’t a clue. How could my prayer do it justice? I felt compelled to call on somebody else to lead it. How can my prayer match what I’m seeing?

When I finally started praying, it happened. Homothumadon. Unity in thought. Unity in mind. Unity in purpose. Unity in prayer. I wasn’t the one praying. We were all praying. We were all saying the “amen.” We were all together speaking with groans only the Holy Spirit can communicate to the Father. It was audible. It was genuine. It was together. We were in a fox hole together, as one, lifting this dear sister to the only God who can do anything about her circumstance. We were communicating to the gracious One who is sovereign over pain and disease. We were lifting Judy to the author of life and the destroyer of death. In faith. In desperation. In trust. As one.

We were all blessed by the prayer. Not the words of the prayer which, again, had everything to do with God’s Divine Spirit and nothing to do with me. We were blessed by the unity of the church. I know Lanny and Judy were encouraged and blessed. I know I was inspired. If you were here with us yesterday morning, I know you were moved, too. We all grew together yesterday morning. We matured spiritually as we considered Judy’s needs greater than our own. We grew together as family. And we became more childlike, more Christ like, as we depended solely on God.

E. M. Bounds said prayer does not prepare us for greater works; it is the greater work.

Judy is set for surgery on her brain at 8:00 tomorrow morning, Tuesday October 11.

Pray.

Allan

Saving a Seat for Paul

September 16, 2011 / / 8 Comments

Going into our shepherds meeting this past Wednesday, I wasn’t really sure who would be praying with me at 8:00 Sunday morning. I assumed I would invite all of our shepherds and ministers to join me in the chapel early Sunday morning so we could pray together for the day and that several of them would commit to showing up.

That’s always been my habit.

Since my earliest days as a minister in Marble Falls, 8:00 on Sunday morning has been a sacred time for me. Jim Gardner and Jimmy Mitchell and I prayed together in Jim’s office at 8:00 every Sunday. Jim would have his Red Bull, Jimmy would have his Muscle Milk (gross!) and I’d be working on my second or third Diet Dr Pepper. And we would pray together. For one another. For God’s Church. For the day.

It continued at Legacy. First, with the worship leaders, Howard and Gordon, during my transition months between Austin Grad and moving to NRH. On my first official day there, every single one of the shepherds showed up. Then after that, six or seven guys committed to praying with me in the church library every Sunday morning. That lasted a few months. And then it began to dwindle. Four guys. Then three. Two for a while. And then there was one.

Paul Brightwell.

Every single Sunday morning. 8:00. Paul would walk into my study. “What’s going on?” And we would shake hands, small talk while we strolled into the library, and then pray. Every single Sunday morning. 8:00. Paul and me. For four years. Praying.

We prayed together for the people at Legacy. We prayed in anticipation of the events of the day. We asked God to bless our assembly, to be present in every interaction among his people, to encourage those who were looking for a word of grace and to convict those who needed a push. We asked God to work on us, to change us more into the image of his Son. We prayed our thanksgivings and our laments together. We prayed through the health problems of Paul’s parents and, eventually, through the death of Paul’s dad. We prayed together through my struggles and triumphs as Legacy’s preacher, all the ups and downs of life in congregational ministry. Paul knew when I was nervous or worried about that day’s message. And we prayed about it. He knew instinctively when I was really excited about what God was going to say through me that day. And we praised God for it. We prayed about our kids and our wives. We thanked God for our friendship.

Sometimes we prayed for ten minutes; sometimes we were in there together for nearly an hour. Sometimes I’d be running around like crazy — updating some sermon slides on the S Drive, re-printing some Small Groups Church study guides, moving some chairs around in a classroom — and Paul would find me. “Stop!” he would say. “Stop! Let’s pray.” And I’d drop whatever I was doing, wherever we happened to be, we’d put our arms around each other, and Paul would pray for God to calm me down, to get me focused, and to use me to his eternal glory in the next couple of hours.

I’m going to need a Paul Brightwell here at Central.

So, Wednesday night, heading into our elders meeting, I’m ready to invite the shepherds and ministers to pray with me at 8:00 Sunday morning. But everything got away from me. Man, when Tim decides the meeting’s over, it’s over! Boom! We went from the middle of a fairly important discussion to a beautiful conclusion with assigned action items to our closing prayer before I even knew what was happening. And the meeting was over. I hadn’t offered my invitation for Sunday morning prayer. I figured I would just have to send out an email the next day. I’m not going to pray alone at 8:00 Sunday morning.

So I got in my truck. Pulled out onto 14th Street on my way home and checked my phone. Two missed calls. From Paul Brightwell. One voice mail. “Call me.”

I’ve only talked to Paul once since we moved. So I called.

“Hey,” he says. “What are you doing at 8:00 Sunday morning?”

“I’m going to be praying in the Central chapel,” I answered him. “It’s Central’s original worship center, a stunning 82-year-old chapel that’s right next to my office here. I’ll be praying in there, hopefully, with a bunch of our shepherds and ministers.”

And Paul says, “Save me a seat.”

He and Andrea are coming up Saturday night. Paul wants to pray with me on my first official day at Central. At 8:00 Sunday morning.

And I am humbled. And I’m typing through tears even now, at 9:00 Friday morning, thinking about it. I praise God for the people he’s put in my life, people like Paul Brightwell, who have given themselves to encouraging me in my ministry. To praying for me and with me. To paying attention to me and lifting me up when I’m down and bringing me down a few notches when I get too high. For knowing me. And caring.

Thank you, God, for Paul Brightwell.

And, thank you, Paul.

Our Sunday mornings together in prayer have, more times than you know, gotten me through the day. You have always said the exact right thing to me at the exact right time. I believe that God pushed you directly into my path to speak through you to me, to help me do what God has called me to do. Those Sunday mornings with you are precious to me. Thank you for allowing our Father to use you in that way. Thank you for the selfless way you gave yourself to God, to me, and to our church on those Sunday mornings.

God will give me a Sunday morning prayer partner here at Central. He knows how badly I need it. It may happen this month or it may take a while. I have no idea who it’s going to be; but God’s going to make sure I’m not praying alone on Sundays. This Sunday, I’ll be in a group of elders and ministers, these church leaders who are going to become some of my very best friends. There may be twenty of us in that chapel day after tomorrow.

But I’m saving a seat for Paul.

Peace,

Allan

On The Church Directory

August 24, 2011 / / 3 Comments

We were sitting together that afternoon on a third-or-fourth-hand couch in my office behind the fellowship hall at the Marble Falls church. Jim Gardner had just announced he was leaving to begin preaching at the Woodward Park congregation in Fresno. I had just taken the preaching position at Legacy. And we both had just received copies of our new churches’ pictorial directories. We were flipping through the pages together, checking out the pictures of the good brothers and sisters to whom we would soon be ministering. Among the pages and rows of young families and widow ladies and old men and babies, Quincy’s picture jumped out at me.

Now look at Quincy. Look at him. That’s a face that has a story. There’s some pain there. Something happened. And the evidence is right there. This man deals with things most people never endure. He suffers.

My very first thought upon seeing Quincy’s picture — and I’ll never forget it — was to wonder in what ways I would be able to minister to this man. How am I going to serve him? How am I going to comfort and encourage him? How is God going to use me to help this guy?

As most readers of this space know, Quincy, of course, wound up ministering to me. He served me. He comforted me and encouraged me. He helped me more than I can possibly put into words.

Quincy’s faithful trust in God strengthened my own faith. His selfless, sacrificial attitude matured my own outlook on congregational life and the world. His prayers delivered me straight to God’s throne for healing and forgiveness, mercy and grace. His phone calls lifted me up and kept me going strong. Quincy’s love for me sustained me in many ways. When I needed a minister, when I needed a faithful friend, when I needed affirmation, Quincy was my guy.

Quincy and I would talk all the time about Legacy Morning Prayers. We lamented the lack of congregational participation. We prayed together that God would bring more people to our prayer time, that God would fill the prayer room with our brothers and sisters so we would all be changed to become more like Christ. Why won’t people come to pray? We couldn’t understand it.

And then at the end of May, it happened. Teenagers!  High school seniors and college freshmen. Young people from our church and young people from the NRH community. Fifteen-year-old, 17-year-old, 20-year-old boys and girls. Kids with faithful Christian parents and kids who are spiritually on their own. They started showing up this summer. Four and five and sometimes six or seven at a time. Teenagers! Praying with Quincy. Talking with Quincy. Being formed and shaped by God through Quincy. Being changed by Quincy’s prayers. Being matured by God’s Word through Quincy’s reading.

Quincy and I had prayed and prayed that the prayer room would be full. But we never once thought God would bring us teenagers!

Every morning this summer Quincy and the teenagers prayed together for an hour. He ministered to them. He helped them. He encouraged them. He loved them. I would show up to work in the mornings and listen at the prayer room door as I put my Diet Dr Peppers for the day in the staff refrigerator. Quincy ministering to a room full of teenagers. More than I could ever possibly ask or imagine. God’s always doing weird and wonderful things like that.

For the past four weeks I’ve been thumbing through and praying over the pictures in my new Central directory. Well, it’s not really new; it’s four-years-old. I might be praying for and studying the names of people who died a long time ago or who don’t even belong to Central anymore. But my experience with Quincy has forever changed the ways I look at these pictures and names.

I still wonder about the ways God is going to use me to minister to this man in a wheelchair or to that single mom with four kids. I still pray that God will bless this widow lady and that guy with cancer. But, mostly, I wonder how these people are going to minister to me. How is God going to use this person to encourage me? How is our faithful Father going to use that lady to mature me in my faith? What’s this man in this picture going to do that’s going to change my life and make me a better disciple of Christ?

There are people in these 48 pages of pictures who are going to have an eternal impact on me. Some more than others. Yes, a few of them are going to make me crazy. But many more will become my greatest friends. I know I’m here to help them. But I’m just as certain our God is going to use these people to help me. And that gives me great confidence.

Peace,

Allan

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