Sunday, October 23, 2011

I Will Pray for You...

“I will pray for you.” “My prayers will be with you.” “Please join me in the prayers of the people.” So we pray. So now what? Does it do any good? Does God listen, care, act? The Order of St. Luke is replete with stories about how prayer works; are they really true? If so, why don’t my prayers work that way? Aren’t they as good? Am I not as good? Is it all just a sham, a fake?
Have you ever wondered about these things? Welcome to the human race! Even Jesus’s disciples wondered these things. Many sermons have attempted to explain them. The standard understanding about God’s answers is that He always hears, always replies—sometimes “yes,” sometimes “no,” sometimes “wait.” Although I’m sure that’s true, somehow it doesn’t go far enough. I’ve had to come to the conclusion that all these answers are based on a flawed fundamental premise. The purpose of intercessory prayer is not to make God do our bidding; He is NOT some celestial puppet. The purpose is to mold our will closer to his, to bring us closer to him. Then He can accomplish his purposes through us, or at least give us a sense of peace knowing that we’re in his will. Then I can attain some measure of acceptance. That’s infinitely more precious Do you agree?

Does Jesus Make Mistakes?

Canaanite woman: “Yes, Lord, even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their
masters’ table.” Jesus: ”Woman, great is your faith. Let it be done for as you wish.”...Mt 15:27
Jesus: “Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.” ... Mt 16:28
A conundrum: since Jesus is God, and God doesn’t make mistakes or change his mind, how do you explain these two passages? There are fancy oblique theological explanations which attempt to sanitize them, but come come, now—could the words be any clearer? In the first, He changes his mind after the mother begs for her daughter’s spiritual health [“and the demon left her”].
In the second, almost two millennia have transpired without his prediction’s fruition. And how about John’s startling tale where at the wedding in Cana his mother encourages him to perform the water-into-wine miracle against his will—and He does!?
These passages are, for me, faith-builders. Seriously. No doubt that He is divine, God-in-the-flesh. But in his humanity my Lord can reverse his decision, can even be wrong. There’s a Man to whom I can relate, the flexibility of whose cerebration resembles mine, demonstrating that He is willing to change and grow. He encourages me to do likewise—and that He shows me his humanity is soooo comforting!
Does this help you to relate to him?

What a friend...

“What a friend we have in Jesus.” “I tell you, my friends, do not fear those who kill the body.” [Lk 12:4]. “You are my friends if you do what I command you.” [Jn 15:14]. “I have called you friends because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father.” [Jn 15:15].
Have you ever REALLY thought about what the old hymn—and Jesus himself—is saying here? Isn’t a bit insane to believe that the Grand Architect of the
Universe, who constructed and set in their courses the planets, stars, galaxies, and even alternate universes, across which it would take light millions of years to travel— is my friend? That the designer of the intricate and infinitely complex human body really cares a whit about me? Please—isn’t it a bit beyond all reason that He who causes the sun to shine, the waves to roll, the corn to sway in the wind, the thunder to resound, has any personal interest in me—only one of seven thousand million people on earth? And yet we are asked to believe this. As for me, I DO believe, not “for the Bible tells me so,” but because He has told me so in many ways throughout my 86 years. There is simply no other
credible explanation for the blessings of my life, for the way good things have happened beyond all logical
explanation.
I believe I have witnessed true miracles. How about you?

Honesty

How honest is honest? I learned long ago that being honest is critical to maintaining a healthy spiritual condition [read that “relationship with Jesus and others”]. For too many years my conversations veered off-center in order to look good to someone else, and now with over 38 years of sobriety behind me, it is still just as vital for me to avoid any shading of the truth. I figure the Lord always sees my heart anyway, and I get a dark brown feeling inside whenever I do the “little white lie” or “convenient exaggeration.” Sometimes the truth can hurt others, though, and then I must make a conscious decision whether or not to tell the WHOLE truth. This is not always easy, but then life was never promised to be always easy. The criterion for such decisions is usually “what’s the kindest thing to do?”, but even then—for my own emotional integrity—I decide that putting honesty first will prove to be best in the long run. The balance between sins of omission and sins of commission is occasionally maddeningly delicate. And then there’s the ultimate question: “What does Jesus want me to do in this situation?” As trite as it sounds, that usually solves the problem. Do you agree?