“I’ll Pray for You”

Have you ever shared a need or struggle with someone, and in response hear them say, “I’ll pray for you”? And had a sneaky suspicion they wouldn’t? Why is that? Is it because we’re cynical, skeptical or because we’ve been that person saying, “I’ll pray for you,” knowing full well we wouldn’t?

Prayer is one of the most loving things we can do for someone. Prayer takes people’s greatest needs to the most powerful Being in the universe. The reverse is true too—neglect of prayer is a serious lapse of love. How cruel would it be to know someone who could meet our friends every need, and refuse to connect them?

Perhaps you’ve walked away from a conversation wishing a friend would have prayed for you right then? I know a number of people who, after listening intently to others, respond by offering to pray on the spot. What would happen if we did that? Not in a cultic, lockstep kind of way, but whenever we sensed it was good timing, when prompted by the Spirit? That would be a force to reckon with.

So why not?

I read an article years ago suggesting the “mediatorial elite” are a barrier to spontaneous prayer. It described a social dynamic among Christians where people often don’t pray out loud, or at all, because we’re intimidated by what others will think. Prayer on the spot?–that’s for the spiritual giants.

The author went on to debunk this idea by pointing to the priestly work of Christ. Jesus died and rose to make it possible for all people–young and old, fresh convert or seasoned sage, to draw near to the throne of God with confidence to receive grace to help in time of need (Heb 4:14-16). In other words:

There is no mediatorial elite.

To follow through on our promise to pray, and to be bolder in praying on the spot, we may need to confront the false notion of a “mediatorial elite.” Begin by repenting of exaggerated concern with what others think of your praying. Ask Jesus to forgive you for minimizing his priestly work on your behalf. Then take Jesus up on his promise–grace to help in time of need! Any time, any place.

We are a kingdom of priests, living stones that compose a holy, cosmic temple where the Spirit dwells. He prompts the priests to pray for the people and mission of God. So let’s get on with praying out loud, on the spot, in intercession for others.

Walking with a friend through the streets of a village in northern Thailand, we were surrounded by opulent Buddhist temples covered in gold flake. As we reflected on the spiritual poverty around us, we were cut to the heart. As we lamented the beautiful deception, my friend piped up and said, “Let’s throw up the true temple and pray for this place.”

As we prayed and called on the name of the Lord, the Spirit’s presence throbbed in our presence. Who knows what the Lord did in answer to those prayers? Now, just think what could happen in your town, city, church, if you “threw up the true temple” more often and prayed on the spot!

You can read more about praying in the Spirit in Here in Spirit: Knowing the Spirit who Create, Sustains, and Transforms Everything.

 

Hearing the Spirit

Listening to the Spirit can sometimes feel like trying to hear someone over a band at a concert. How do we make out his voice? What exactly is he saying? To hear the Spirit, to become acquainted with his voice, we have to quiet the noise. One form of noise is busyness.

Henry David Thoreau once wrote: “We have lost the art of being still and doing nothing.” Can you remember the last time you did nothing? Really, stop and think about it. I have to talk myself into doing nothing sometimes, and when I am doing nothing, I have to remind myself that it’s okay to do nothing. I even have to shoo away the guilt for not being productive so I can just sit and enjoy grace. Occasionally when I’m reading the Bible, items for my to-do list materialize. They distract me and try to push God’s words around my mind. Suddenly getting a task done feels more urgent than meeting with God!

Once we slow down long enough to eliminate busyness, we may not like what we see. Danish philosopher and father of existentialism Søren Kierkegaard wrote volumes of thought-provoking philosophy that required gobs of doing nothing. Yet in reflection he described himself as a spectator in life, someone who learned about the views and theories of others while contributing nothing to the greater base of knowledge. He envied “great men” who pursued interests with great success, while struggling to find his own purpose. He struggled with a profound sense of inadequacy.

Do you ever feel inadequate? I think of mothers in our church who feel the pressure to accomplish something: well-disciplined children, organic, gluten-free diets, well-kept homes with inviting interior design, a stand-out hobby, side job, or great career. If they don’t accomplish these goals, they feel like they don’t measure up. Or men who are so driven by work and platform building that they have lost touch with the Spirit of God. We often mistake accomplishment for purpose.

Kierkegaard eventually saw through all of this: “Let us never deceive youth by foolish talk about the matter of accomplishing. Let us never make them so busy in the service of the moment, that they forget the patience of willing something eternal.”

He came to the point where he realized the futility of busyness in the service of temporal things and began to value the importance of slow, patient eternal things. This is particularly challenging in our age, where we believe just the opposite—that we need to accomplish a bunch of great things in order to be purposeful.

In this milieu, how do we hear the voice of the Spirit? We may need to begin by renouncing accomplishment, to throw off the claim that a meaningful life is based purely on what we do and instead learn to rest in what God has done. We must patiently set aside productivity to slow down enough to value the things of God. Embrace the value of silencing other voices in order to make out the sound of the voice that matters most. This is a lifelong endeavor: cultivating the patience of willing something eternal. And it is worth it, every single bit.

You can read more about listening to the Spirit in Here in Spirit: Knowing the Spirit who Create, Sustains, and Transforms Everything.

Preaching the Gospel with Your Sweat

Jesus came preaching the gospel to the poor, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor” (Luke 4:16). But he didn’t just preach to the poor; he proved it to the poor. Jesus is not merely a man of deep conviction, he’s profoundly authentic. He walks right out into the margins of society and calls us to follow him. To take our middle-class wealth, comfort, and convenience and subordinate it to the greater needs of the marginalized. He says nothing short of “Follow me…into the margins.”

The Gospels depict Jesus spending time with the mentally ill, the disease-ridden, and in the homes of the fever-pitched. We often refuse to drop a meal off if someone is contagious. Follow me, Jesus says.

In the sprawling city of Kampala, Uganda, the city center is surrounded by undulating dirt roads that wind into the slums occupied by millions of unaccounted poor. The slum roads are lined with cardboard and cinderblock homes, bordered by open sewage ditches, where half-naked children run free, some with parents many without. It was my day to depart after long two weeks of rural and urban travel, teaching, and orphan ministry among some of the poorest people I have ever known.

My flight out was that afternoon. I couldn’t wait to get home. The team was slated to go to an orphanage. I was flying out before them. When I woke up that morning, I took a warm shower, put on some fresh clothes, and began to reason why I shouldn’t really go to the orphanage with the team. I could get some shopping done, take care of some admin, and oh, when I landed in the States I had a conference to speak at! Lots of prep needed for that. I was trying to justify not walking into the margins, spending time with street kids and orphans.

Over breakfast, I read Luke 5, where I saw God–God–care so much for the marginalized that he became sweaty. Instead of avoiding the dirty, smelly, disease-ridden poor, he walked right into their living rooms, placed his holy hands on them, and loved them. Jesus’ saving message was proven in serving action. The Messiah got dirty with the dirtiest of us all. As I read, I wept. The reason I didn’t want to go to the orphanage was because I didn’t want to get dirty, sweaty before I got on that plane. I had fresh clothes on. I didn’t want to spend time with poor orphans because I didn’t want to get dirty.

Jesus is so deeply authentic, so true to his own message, that his life demands a response. His gospel is so counter-cultural, so status-reversing that it exposes the rich in their pride and compels us to love the poor in their humility. Jesus didn’t just speak a great gospel; he lived a great gospel. He brought the hope of comprehensive salvation right into the slums. He announced and accomplished the gospel, and he is calling us to follow him. He’s calling people out of their designer slums and comfortable homes into the lives of the emotionally broken, socially awkward, mentally ill, economically destitute, racially marginalized, and the eternally-separated-from-God, not only to announce salvation but to prove it with our very own lives.

But “proving” Christ is not enough. Preaching Christ is more than enough. He heals all, makes everything new.

Jesus preaches the gospel to the poor with his sweat. Will we?

5 Books on the Holy Spirit

When writing a book, a constellation of influences converge to produce what we put on paper. Those influences range from personal experience to the knowledge of others. As I have matured in my understanding and enjoyment of the least understood person of the Trinity, I have been helped by quite a few people. Most notably the two men to whom I dedicate Here in Spirit: professors Richard Lovelace and Colin Gunton.

I took several classes with Lovelace in seminary including, Dynamics of Spiritual Life (if you haven’t read this buy it now). Lovelace opened up my understanding of Reformed Christianity as a renewal movement that includes a whole way of living in the world, in the Spirit, in every nook and cranny of life, to the glory of God. Gunton helped me ground Lovelaces theological and historical insights with a robust understanding of the Trinity’s work in creation. Gunton is much more academic. A good entry point for him is The Triune Creator. You can read a paper I wrote in seminary on Gunton’s theology of creation here. I am forever indebted to both of these men and hope this book is something they would be proud of.

If you want to read other books on the Spirit, here are five not so academic books I can recommend:

  • The Holy Spirit in Mission – Gary Tyra is a scholar at an Assemblies of God university and his work emphasizes the Spirit’s prophetic work through the church, in speech and action, for the mission of God.
  • The Holy Spirit in the Old Testament  – In this brief book Chris Wright, who runs the legacy ministry of John Stott and is an OT scholar, does a great job explaining who the Spirit is in the Old Testament and how that relates to our New Testament experience.
  • The Spirit-filled Church – This book by a veteran church and organizational leader and contains a lot of wisdom for Spirit-filled living. The chapters on leadership and prayer are excellent.
  • Practicing the Power – A balanced book on the miraculous gifts of the Spirit. You may not agree with everything but will find it challenging and helpful.
  • The Holy Spirit – A solid introduction to a theology of the Spirit by a renown Reformed theologian.