Category: Prayer (Page 22 of 29)

Be Filled With The Spirit

January 12, 2010 / Allan / 1 Comment

“Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” ~Ephesians 5:21

The context in Ephesians 5 is in the corporate worship assembly.

“Be filled with the Spirit. Speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs. Sing and music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.”

Submit to one another. Belong to one another. And, in this corporate worship context, Paul says be filled with the Spirit.

When we come together, it’s the Spirit who not only unites us with one another, he unites us to God. We worship in the Spirit. We submit to one another and speak and sing to one another in the Spirit. The Holy Spirit of God is who gives the Christian life its energy and enthusiasm and endurance and power!

Be filled with the Spirit.

This is an imperative. It’s a command. So we do take some of the responsibility here. This singing together and submitting to one another is either the means by which we pursue this filling of the Spirit or it’s the result of being filled with the Spirit. Or both. Either way, Paul says when we sing together, when we pray together, when we submit to one another, when we really belong to one another, we are filled with the Spirit.

And that tells me that God is not a spectator when we come together to worship. Audience of one? No! God is not an audience of worship. Our God is an active participant with us — inside us — when we worship him together. God is not just sitting on his heavenly throne and soaking up all the hallelujahs and amens. No. Through the Spirit, the Father and Son are engaged with us. Communing with us. Rejoicing with us. Transforming us. Changing us. Growing us. Shaping us more into the image of Christ.

Be filled with the Spirit.

Encountering God together — in the worship assemblies on Sunday mornings, in our Bible classes on Wednesday nights, in our living rooms on Sunday evenings — being in the presence of God together allows us to recognize our own sinfulness and shortcomings. And that always leads to an acute recognition of his marvelous grace. And the power of God’s grace is not just forgiveness. It’s also transformation. New creature. New creation. Christ formed in you. Being saved. It’s a communal sanctification event. We participate in it and we experience it together. We are filled with the Spirit. Together.

Peace,

Allan

A Prayer for God's Church

January 5, 2010 / Allan / 0 Comments

From the cowardice that shrinks from new truths,
from the laziness that is content with half-truths,
and from the arrogance that thinks it knows all truth,
O God of Truth, deliver us!

~ Henlee H. Barnette, “The Minister as a Moral Role-Model,” 1989

Thanksgiving for Roadblocks

November 30, 2009 / Allan / 1 Comment

“I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth…” ~Matthew 11:25

John the Baptist is the one who knows more about the coming Messiah than anyone else in the world. He’s been ordained by God, commissioned to prepare the way for the Holy One of Israel. And in Matthew 11, with John in jail and Herod acting more arrogantly and ruling more aggressively than ever, the desert proclaimer begins to doubt. He questions. From his prison cell, through his disciples, he asks Jesus, “So are you the one, or what?”

The people who know Jesus the best, his own family and friends, are ignoring him. The very ones he worshiped with and grew up with and played with and worked with in the villages of Capernaum and Bethsaida and Korazin are not accepting Jesus as Lord. They’re not repenting. They’re not turning to God as a result of Jesus’ teachings and miracles.

The situation in Jesus’ Kingdom life is not good. His mission. His calling from God. His whole purpose for coming to earth. Everything Jesus stood for and sacrificed for and was working for. None of it was going very well. He was running into dead ends and roadblocks. Barriers and hard hearts. Misunderstanding and indifference.

And this from the people who all should have known better.

If I’m Jesus — and, yes, I know I’m not; I’m reminded every day —I’m looking at John and these neighbors of mine and I’m maybe beginning to question all of it, too. Maybe I’d better do something different. Maybe they’re right. No crowds. Nobody’s lives are changing. I need to try something else. I need to be bigger and louder and brighter. We need bigger screens. More video. Maybe I should lose the tie. Tell more jokes. Be funnier. We should maybe set up a coffee shop or a book store. I should probably stop saying words like “sin” and “salvation” and “Zion.”

If I were Jesus, I’d look at the misunderstandings and indifference and say, “Why isn’t God helping me here? Why isn’t God doing anything? What’s the deal?”

Instead, Jesus prays thanksgiving to God.

“I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.”

Jesus knows that God’s way is to work his gracious will, to fulfill his marvelous plans for the universe through the childlike. The simple. The humble. Those who don’t think they are themselves some kind of gods. God works through people who understand very plainly their deep need for him.

The point is this: none of this throws Jesus off. The fact that John misunderstands what’s happening with Jesus doesn’t derail him. Jesus doesn’t slam on the brakes when the villagers reject him. None of this slows our Savior down.

Not so with us. We can get caught up in junk like this. I know I can. I know whole churches that can.

There are so many conditions in God’s Church and in this country and in this world that cause us to wring our hands and gnash our teeth. Oh, the Church is in trouble! Oh, people aren’t captivated by the Bible anymore! Postmoderns won’t ever believe the absolute truth of salvation in God through Christ! And we worry and get anxious and write articles and teach classes and rail against systems and complain about programs. And we get so worked up because God’s not working anymore.

But this prayer from Jesus puts everything in perspective. It brings us back to base.

The powerful and unstoppable energies of the Kingdom of God are always moving, always growing, always surging just beneath the surface. All around us. Huge rivers of prayer and faith and hope and praise and forgiveness and salvation and rescue and holiness flow right by us every day. In every single nook and cranny, hidden in the shadows, overlooked in the crowds, drowned out by the noise, are these humble infants. These little children.

So—thanksgiving.

Not just for the day and the weather and the beauty of nature. Not just for family and friends and food and clothes and shelter. Not just for good things in good circumstances. But, thanksgiving in — yes! — less than ideal situations. Thanksgiving offered in faith that our God is very much alive and active and working in mighty ways that we don’t always see.

Peace,

Allan

Protected By His Name

November 23, 2009 / Allan / 1 Comment

We live in a world not just of disbelief and cynicism. We’re in a truly hostile environment. We’re promised all kinds of trouble as we live for Christ on earth. But we’re also guaranteed great victory by our faith in the One who conquers death. In the meantime, we need strength. We need provision. We need protection to live as Christians here. It’s dangerous. It’s spiritually dangerous to follow Jesus in Texas.

Jesus knows that. It’s why he prays for us the way he does:

“Holy Father, protect them by the power of your name.” ~John 17:11

“I protected them and kept them safe by that name.” ~John 17:12

“My prayer is…that you protect them from the evil one.” ~John 17:15

Jesus knows that representing God in this world is a call to genuine battle. It’s a war with casualties and injuries and fear and strategies and winners and losers. It’s real. And he knows it. He acknowledges the power of the enemy.

What a blessing to know that our protection and our salvation doesn’t depend on our character or our nature or our conduct. Our protection and salvation is found in the nature and character of our God. Our holiness doesn’t come from our futile attempts to comply with a long list of do’s and don’ts. Our safety doesn’t depend on our ability to not sin. Our salvation is not tied to our good behavior. It all comes from the faithful and loving and forgiving and powerful name of God.

God, by his name, hides our life; he protects it and keeps it. And he promises us that when his Son appears again in glory, we are also going to be appear with him in that same glory.

Peace,

Allan

Feeling Psalm 88

November 10, 2009 / Allan / 1 Comment

Have you ever read Psalm 88? I would encourage you to read it. First, a word of caution: don’t read it as the last thing you do before you go to bed tonight. Don’t read it when you’re all alone. Or on a cloudy day. Try to read it in brightly-lit room full of your closest friends. Because Psalm 88 is a downer. It’s tough.

“My soul is full of trouble and my life draws near the grave.
I am set apart with the dead, like the slain who lie in the grave,
whom you remember no more, who are cut off from your care.”

Of the 150 Psalms, nearly half of them are labeled as lament psalms. Lamentations. Anger. Doubt. Bitterness. Confusion. Questions. Complaints against God. Even accusations against God. And Psalm 88 may be the most uncomfortable.

“You have put me in the lowest pit…”
“You have overwhelmed me with all your waves…”
“You have taken from me my closest friends…”

Psalm 88 is the only lament psalm that doesn’t, at some point, turn to praise. There’s no praise here. No thanksgiving. There’s not even any hope that God will eventually change his mind or eventually rescue. The psalmist here declares that praying to God is doing no good. God has abandoned him completely. And there’s no light at the end of the tunnel.

“Why, O Lord, do you reject me?”
“Your terrors have destroyed me.”
“The darkness is my closest friend.”

Maybe you’ve never read Psalm 88. But have you ever felt Psalm 88?

This past Sunday here at Legacy we read Psalm 88 and then we prayed it. We lifted up to God our despair and depression, our confusions and doubts. We lifted up to God all those in our congregation suffering from cancer and other disease, those dealing with divorce, those struggling with unemployment, those battling family issues such as rebellious children and abusive spouses, our people who are suffering through the loss of loved ones — both recent and a long time ago. On Sunday we were honest with our God about our faith and our fears. We asked him the hard questions. Why are these things happening? How long will they continue? We told God plainly that we don’t always understand.

Those aren’t easy words to pray. It’s unusual in that we rarely pray this way at all, especially in a corporate Sunday morning setting. But the reading and the prayer and the open and honest theme of the day seemed to be especially meaningful to the many, many, many, many people of our church who are feeling Psalm 88.

It would be impossible to share with you in this space the more-than-usual number of phone calls, emails, and pop-in visits I’ve received in just the two days since Sunday’s service regarding what we did together as a church family. Being publicly and completely honest with God and with ourselves about our pains — physical, emotional, and spiritual pains — resonated with young and old, men and women, from every background and worldview imaginable. It touched people. It bonded people. Because a whole lot of us are feeling Psalm 88. At some point, most of us have felt Psalm 88.

Some still balk at using this kind of language with God, even though all of God’s people in Scripture, from the Patriarchs and Judges and Prophets to Christ himself and the Saints in heaven, have used the language of lament to voice their complaints to God in the middle of great trial. But there’s great comfort in unburdening yourself. There’s great relief in unloading and getting things off your chest. There’s solace in knowing that he’s listening.

You know that.

It’s OK. God loves you, remember?

Peace,

Allan

How Long, O Lord?

November 7, 2009 / Allan / 0 Comments

I’ve watched and listened to with fascination over the past 48 hours the continuing coverage of the horrible shootings at Fort Hood. I’m drawn to the news stories for several reasons.

My brother-in-law was stationed there for a couple of years right in the middle of the Gulf War. He and my sister lived there at Fort Hood. Carrie-Anne and I visited there, met their neighbors, played ping-pong and air hockey in the rec center there, and shopped at the military store there. On two different occasions, Brent was designated for deployment to the Persian Gulf. On both those ocassions they gave him less than 48 hours notice to tell Sharon and their families goodbye. And we prayed. And prayed. And prayed. And on both of those ocassions, after he had been packed and processed, the orders changed and his unit was told to stay put in Killeen.

Their daughter, my first niece, was born at Darnell Army Medical Center there at Fort Hood. Her birth, on New Year’s Day 1991, interrupted my plans to watch the #3 Longhorns and the #4 Miami Hurricanes in the Cotton Bowl. We spent two days at that hospital on that base for Cassie’s arrival.

A few years later Carrie-Anne and I saw Foreigner at a rock concert on base they called “HoodStock”.

Twice after that I called high school games at the Killeen Kangaroos football stadium.

And so, while I don’t know anybody in Killeen anymore, we do have some very deep and vivid memories of some wonderful family times there. I’m watching this thing unfold and listening to the horror and watching the tears of the families and feeling deeply impacted. This is a truly horrible thing that’s happened here. It’s awful. It’s evil.

“Why, O Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” ~Psalm 10:1

And I recall the age-old statement of the skeptic: If God is good, he’s not really God. And if God is really God, he’s not good. In other words, God could have prevented what happened at this army base in Central Texas. The fact that he didn’t must prove he’s not good. And if he could have prevented it, he must not be the powerful God we think he is.

Wrong. And wrong again.

In times of tragedy — in our own lives, in our local communities, globally — we hold on in faith to the anchor of God’s eternal love for his creation. We know he loves. We know his great love is the force behind everything our Father does and everything he allows.

The truth is, we don’t see everything yet. We don’t fully understand everything. We’re assured that our God is working out everything according to his purposes. And we know that his purposes are driven by what’s in our best interests and what’s best for the redemption of his creation.

So, we trust and we pray.

It’s OK to appeal to God’s omnipotence and his righteousness and declare to him that we don’t understand. It’s OK to question God and wrestle with him and beg him to change things. These kinds of prayers actually reveal our deep faith. They say to God, “We know you are just and righteous and all powerful; we just don’t understand.”

“Pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge.” ~Psalm 62:8

Peace,

Allan

Category: Prayer (Page 22 of 29)

Be Filled With The Spirit

A Prayer for God's Church

Thanksgiving for Roadblocks

Protected By His Name

Feeling Psalm 88

How Long, O Lord?

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