The Next Level

Last week, I heard an interview with a highly successful entrepreneur in California.  She grew up in a “poor” family in the segregated South.  The reason I put poor in quotation marks is that, for many of her growing up years, she never knew they were poor!  There were eleven kids, but they never lacked food, clothing, or emotional support.  In fact, she said, even with their large family, there was always extra to share with others.

Her story reminded me that we can live with one of two basic outlooks:  abundance or scarcity.  As an economics major, I learned about scarcity; but as a theologian, I am increasingly aware of abundance.  God promises to supply all our needs, and we often have more at our disposal than we realize.  That is not to make light of the fact that many people often struggle and suffer from a dearth of resources.  But it sets the stage for Jesus’ next statement on how we are to pray:  “Give us today our daily bread.”

One thing to notice is that everything we have is a gift.  When we pray, “Give us…,” that suggests that what we have–even in daily provision–is something we receive.  That is not to say we don’t work for it.  Genesis 2 makes it clear that work is part of the created order–it is part of how God has made the world to operate.  But even the ability to work is a gift from God.  In Matthew 5:45, Jesus suggests that even the circumstances that enable us to prosper by our efforts are a gift–it is God who makes the sun shine and the rain fall, not us!

Cutting to the chase, when we pray “Give us today our daily bread,” we are saying several things.  We are saying that we acknowledge that all we have is from God.  We are saying that we trust God for that provision–we will work, but not obsess over it.  Finally, we are saying that we desire contentment.  Notice that the prayer is for daily provision–what we need right now–not ten or fifty years from now.  In some ways, Jesus’ petition sets the stage for what Paul writes in I Timothy 6:  “Godliness with contentment is great gain.  If we have food and clothing, we will be content with that.”

Being well provided for is not necessarily about having a little or a lot–something that California entrepreneur could attest to.  It is about making the most of what we do have–and of seeing what we have, rather than what we don’t have.

Disappointment can be hard to face, can’t it?  If you’re like me, there have been many disappointments over the years, some small and others large–maybe even life-changing.  But are disappointments always bad?  Not necessarily.  Sometimes the things we don’t “get” allow us to gain a new and better opportunity.  And sometimes, the things we don’t “get” actually save us from pain and heartbreak.

One place many people struggle with disappointment is in the area of prayer.  They take Jesus’ words that we should “ask anything” in his name to mean that, if we ask “in Jesus’ name,” God WILL do it–period.  But when God doesn’t do what was expected of Him, they become disappointed–even disillusioned.  Their conclusion:  God doesn’t really answer prayer after all.

Several people, including Bill Hybels, have pointed out that God can actually answer our prayers in several ways.  One is “Yes,” but others can be, “Wait,” or “Maybe,” or even “No!”  God’s wisdom is always greater and higher than our own, and sometimes we ask for things that would be unwise for us to receive–at least at that point in time.  God knows and sees that, but we often do not because we cannot.  Even the “right” things can be wrong if the circumstances aren’t right.

So what of praying, “in Jesus’ name” or with his “authority” for something?  Try to remember that the Lord’s name is not some magical incantation.  Jesus’ name is not the same as Hocus Pocus or Abracadabra.  When we pray “in Jesus’ name,” we are asking that whatever does happen as a result will be consistent with his purposes and plans–not our own.  It’s asking God to do something if it’s his will.  To some that seems like a lack of faith, but I think it is the ultimate expression of faith.  Why?  Because it says, “God, I’m going to trust you to do what you know is right, not just what I think is right.”

So, from the Lord’s Prayer, pay special attention to that petition, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”  Remember that, when we pray, it must be with the desire that our lives align with the purposes, character, and will of God–not the other way around.  And when that is our desire and our intent, no matter what answer we get, we’ll see it as the right answer.

At the end of World War II, German theologian Helmut Thielicke stood in the ruins of Hamburg’s University Chapel, preaching on the phrase “Your kingdom come.”  As he preached, Thielicke asked, “Who can still believe today that we we are developing toward a state in which the Kingdom of God reigns…?”  With most of Europe and much of Asia and North Africa in ruins, it was a perfectly understandable question.  And if we look around much of the world today–including our own North American continent, it could still be an understandable question.  And yet Jesus said that we should pray, “Your kingdom come.”

The “Kingdom of God” was central to Jesus’ teaching.  His first recorded words concern The Kingdom (Mark 1:15).  During the forty days between his resurrection and ascension, Luke says that the central theme of Jesus’ teaching was The Kingdom (Acts 1:3).  Gospel ministry and Christian discipleship are inextricably linked to the Kingdom of God.  And it goes even further than that.  The phrase itself doesn’t occur in the Old Testament, but the concept is certainly there.  Think of the book of Daniel, where God’s sovereignty over all human kingdoms and power structures is clearly emphasized.  And Zechariah 14:9 says, “The Lord will be king over the whole earth.”

But what is The Kingdom?  That’s not necessarily an easy question to answer, but in general it has to do with the rule and reign of God in all areas of life and society.  That means it is not just spiritual–it is not somehow separate from practical every-day life, but is reflected in how God desires us to live here.  Neither is it simply “future.”  It’s true that it will not be fully realized until Christ’s return, but that does not mean we should not seek to bring about what we can of the Kingdom in the here and now.

Beyond that, it is both God’s work and our work.  II Peter 3:12 speaks of the “Day of the Lord” and of our “speeding its coming.”  So when we pray “Thy Kingdom Come,” it must not be just about what we expect or want God to do, but also about what we will do ourselves to extend God’s reign.

In the end, the Kingdom of God is both a present reality–in a sense inaugurated with the incarnation of Jesus, and a growing movement whose ultimate realization will come at his return.  That gives us a secure hope for the future, but also a clear challenge to ensure that our own commitments, actions, and prayers are completely aligned with God’s purposes for the people and the world around us.  And even if it seems that sometimes those prayers and efforts fall flat, we can still pursue them knowing that, while we may not immediately see results, “[our] labor in the Lord is not in vain.” (I Corinthians 15:58).

A number of years ago, Philip Ryken, then pastor of Tenth Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia, wrote this:

I have never seen anyone struck dead during a worship service…  To tell the truth, I am surprised that I haven’t been struck with a thunderbolt during a worship service…  Most of my worship, if not quite all of it, is unworthy of the God who is majestic in his holiness.

Those words sound extreme, but I’m reminded of Isaiah 6, where Isaiah finds himself in the Temple in Jerusalem, awed by the sights and sounds connected with being in God’s presence.  What we can’t miss when reading that chapter is how quickly and completely Isaiah recognizes his own unworthiness before God.  When I think about that, I can’t help but wonder when the last time is that any of us–including myself–came  into worship with that same sense of awe.  If I’m honest, I have to admit that I don’t think I ever have.  And yet Isaiah, one of the greatest men of God of all time, saw the splendor and felt the weight of being before Him in ways that few–if any–of us ever do.

It’s interesting, then, that in Matthew 6, Jesus tells us–unworthy as we are–to approach God confidently and boldly (we can’t miss that from the opening line).  But there is a “twist.”  The first thing Jesus says we should pray for after approaching God is that God’s name be “hallowed.”  What does that mean?

To hallow something (or in this case someone) means to treat it (or him or her) with reverence and holiness.  And who is more worthy of such treatment than the God who is perfectly holy and infinitely majestic–the One True God who is indeed “King of the Universe?”  If we take this first petition of the Lord’s Prayer seriously, whether it’s in the context of public worship or personal prayer, we should never come to God with even a hint of “Here I am, God.  Aren’t you lucky?”  Instead, we should come with the attitude that’s like that of both Isaiah and Dr. Ryken–an attitude of awe and wonder that we are actually welcome in God’s presence, and that God desires time with us, even though we don’t deserve it.  Let’s be clear:  I don’t believe we should come fearfully.  But we should come humbly, thankfully, reflectively and respectfully.  When we honor God in that way, we live out Jesus’ own instructions.  What’s more, we set the stage for fruitful and effective prayer.

In my previous post, I wrote that the term Abba, which Jesus often used in reference to his Heavenly Father, is more than just “Daddy.”  I also suggested that, while the statements in the Lord’s Prayer are simple, they are not simplistic, and that they have a depth we can easily miss.  All of that comes together in the second two words in the prayer:  in heaven.

In his own observations on the Lord’s Prayer, William Barclay wrote that, “We must never use the word Father in regard to God cheaply, easily, and sentimentally…  This God, whom we can call Father, is the God whom we must still approach with reverence and adoration, awe and wonder.”  Barclay’s words remind me of Isaiah 42:8, where God says, “I am the Lord; that is my name!  I will not give my glory to another or my praise to idols.”

When Jesus began the Lord’s Prayer with, “Our Father in heaven,” he hit on a tension that actually makes prayer worthwhile:  that God is intimately interested and involved in the world he created (theologians call this God’s “immanence”), but that He is also entirely distinct, different, and separate from that world (theologians refer to that as God’s “transcendence.”)  There are many ways God is absolutely different and distinct from us, but here are just a few:

• God is the Creator–we are created.
• God is sovereign–we are not.
• God is both eternal and all-knowing–we are not.
• God is unchanging–we are not.
• God is perfect–we are not.

God is our Father, but He is not like us, and that is a good thing.  If God were not different from us in these and many other ways, prayer would be pointless.  His immanence (seen in the words Our Father) shows that he cares.  His transcendence (seen in the words in heaven), means he can actually do things we cannot do, in ways we cannot do them, according to wisdom we do not possess.  Therefore, we can and should pray with confidence–confidence that nothing in our lives is beyond his concern, and confidence that nothing we bring to him is beyond his ability to address.

A question I sometimes ask people is, “How has your view of God changed?”  When I was young, I often thought of God as “out there, somewhere,” and not particularly interested in me, except when I messed up in some way.  I doubt I was alone.

The statements and phrases in the Lord’s Prayer are simple, but not simplistic.  There is a depth to them that we can easily miss, starting with just the first four words:  “Our Father in Heaven…”  As I start this series of posts on the Lord’s Prayer, I want to think specifically about just the first two words:  Our Father.

There’s been a lot of confusion over the years about Jesus’ use of “Father” in addressing God.  Some believe he was referring to God in that way was revolutionary.  True, the Old Testament never directly calls God by that title, but the idea is there–Moses, Isaiah, and Jeremiah all saw God as the “Father” of Israel.  What’s more, even in some of the Jewish synagogue prayers of Jesus’ day, God was called, “Father.”  So the term was not new.  What was unusual was the emphasis Jesus put on it.  There are only about 14 references to God as “Father” in the entire Old Testament, but no less than sixty places in the gospels where Jesus refers to God as “Father.”  So it wasn’t a new idea, but an idea whose time seems to have more fully come with Jesus.

There’s another way we sometimes get confused about this.  In the Lord’s Prayer, the word Jesus uses is the Greek word for Father, which is the basis for English words like patriarch and paternal.  But elsewhere, Jesus uses the Aramaic Abba.  Sometimes, people equate Abba with Daddy, but the two are not the same.  True, both suggest intimacy and affection.  But Daddy is a child’s term, and it misses some of the deeper implications of Abba.  Abba was not just a child’s term, it was also used by adults, and implies not only affection, but deep respect, and even reverence that often only comes with maturity.  It’s Daddy–and a lot more.

I’ll come back to that in the next post, but for now, just remember that, when you pray “Our Father…,” you are speaking with a God is not just “out there somewhere.”  You are speaking to a God who wants a close, intimate, trusting relationship with you–a relationship that goes far beyond just watching for you to mess up.  You’re speaking to a God who wants to be intimately involved with every part of your life, just like the best earthly father.  What’s more, you are speaking to the God who has a deep, indescribable affection for you that cannot be shaken–by anything.

I feel like I’ve been stretched a lot lately–even in the last few days.  We often speak of “growing pains,” and not necessarily just for kids.  We’ll speak of them for businesses and organizations, too.  When we do, though, I wonder if we don’t assume that we’ll eventually grow out of them–that we’ll eventually get to the point where there will be no more growing to do.  Certainly as we move from childhood, through adolescence, and on into adulthood, there is a sense in which that happens–at least physically.  But how about emotionally, mentally, and spiritually?  I’m pretty sure that, in those ways, we never really get beyond them–unless we simply choose to stop growing.

A friend of mine–a very accomplished friend–once said that he never took a job he was ready for, meaning that every time he stepped into something new, there was growth that needed to happen–new skills to be learned, new information to be aquired, new relationships to be developed.  It can be easy for us to reach a point where, for some reason, we think we’ve “arrived.”  I thought that a couple of weeks ago as I sat in a class that I rather quickly–and quite smugly–decided  I could teach–and I probably could have.  But that didn’t change the fact that there was still something for me to learn, and that my sense of having “arrived” could have easily gotten in the way of my learning.  I was being stretched.

There are many ways that new or difficult situations can force us to grow–if we let them.  In my own experience, the pressures and stresses often get to issues of character–greater patience, greater empathy, deeper trust, quicker forgiveness.  True, there are times that I’m prompted to learn new skills in the midst of the stress–sometimes skills I don’t particularly want to learn–but even then it’s probably about character more than anything else, especially the characteristics of humility and teachability.

So, next time you find yourself in an uncomfortable situation or setting, rather than try to figure out how to get out of it, try thinking about what you can gain from it–then let God stretch you to be better, stronger, wiser, and more effective in that situation than you might have otherwise been.

I was recently in a book discussion with some friends, and I noticed something afterward that I have actually known for a long time, but which struck me in a new way:  Even those of us who love to learn can be very slow to learn from others.

What I observed–as much in myself as the others in the group–was our propensity to critique things that challenge us to think differently, and by critique I mean criticize or challenge.  Now we should read and listen critically and carefully–we can do ourselves and others a lot of harm when we simply swallow what someone else says.  Sometimes we do actually know more than someone else.  But–and here’s the challenge–we should never read or listen defensively or defiantly.  When we read or hear something that we disagree with and instinctively go to “why we don’t like it” mode, we can lose some wonderful opportunities for our own growth.

General George Patton said that “If everybody thinks alike, somebody’s not thinking.”  That’s not always true, but it’s true enough for us to pay attention.  Even if we don’t agree with the conclusions someone else comes to, we can learn a lot by understanding their concerns or by gaining information they have which we do not.  Think of it as the equivalent of looking at something three-dimensionally instead of two-dimensionally.  A photograph can be a wonderful image of something, but it’s not the same as having a model–or better yet, being able to hold or look at the real thing from different angles.  The more directions from which we can look at something, the better we know and understand it.

So, rather than simply try to argue our point–or promote our own perspective, sometimes we may just need to listen and ask ourselves, “What do I need to hear from them?” rather than, “What do I want to say to them?”  Even if we don’t ultimately change our minds, at least our views will be better informed–and that’s never a bad thing.

Last Sunday, I preached my first sermon at Hope Covenant in St. Cloud, Minnesota.  My “thesis” was that we not only can, but must, trust God with the future, and was based on the example of Abraham and Sarah who, in Genesis 12, left everything that was familiar and “safe” for a future which God had not fully revealed to them.  Genesis 12 is a turning point, not only in the life of Abraham and Sarah, but in the entire trajectory of the biblical narrative and God’s plan to bring a lost, hurting, and broken world back to himself.

In the message, I pointed out that we have three basic options when it comes to turning points in life.  In fact, they are options that come to us again and again throughout life:  (i) trying to control things ourselves, (ii) letting things control us, or (iii) letting God guide us through it all.  Letting God guide us is not about switching off our brains or just “letting go and letting God.”  It is about submitting all things to him.  Nineteenth Century Harvard scholar C. H. Toy observed that apart from God human intellect will not guide us correctly.  But how do we protect ourselves against the unreliability of our own abilities?  How do we, practically-speaking, submit our decision-making (or better, our discernment) to God?  Let me offer a few quick suggestions from my own experience and from what I see in the Bible.

First, always keep God’s purposes and perspective in mind.  (I know people hate the word must, but there are no two ways about it:  there is plenty of biblical data to support me on that.)  To do that, we need to spend time in the Bible, learning and relearning all that God reveals to us there.  The better we know Scripture, the better prepared we are to recognize what is consistent with God’s purposes and (perhaps more importantly) what is not.

Second, don’t discount the importance of advice from others—and not just from those who tend to agree with you.  We need people who push and challenge us.  General George S. Patton, Jr. said that “If everybody thinks alike, somebody’s not thinking.”  When you’re contemplating a decision—particularly a big decision—don’t be afraid to get a variety of perspectives.  It can help you sharpen your thinking and make a better decision.

Third, use decision-making or discernment “tools.”  These help you see more tangibly what is at stake or what factors are in play.  They can’t make the choices for you, but they can help bring clarity.  Tools like SWOT Analyses (SWOT comes from Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, and Threats), Force Field Analysis, and the Wesleyan Quadrilateral (Scripture, Tradition, Reason, and Experience) can all help the discernment process.

Fourth, pray.  The Bible tells us that God’s Spirit lives in those of us who follow Jesus Christ. He guides, protects, teaches, and empowers us for godly and wise living.  The stories of Jesus at prayer in the gospels often correspond to significant turning points in his own life and ministry, such as when he was preparing to choose the twelve disciples and when he was anticipating his crucifixion. If Jesus needed to pray, how much more do we?

Fifth, don’t be afraid to try things.  Several times in my life I have decided to pursue something until God closed the door on it.  I think that follows the example of the Apostle Paul who tried to go first to Asia and then to Bithynia but was prevented by the Holy Spirit from doing either.  The result was that Paul opened an entirely new area of ministry with the conversion of Lydia in Philippi.  There’s no shame in trying something.

Sixth, don’t despair when doors do close.  There are times when God has not only closed a door but almost seems to have slammed it in my face!  Without a doubt, I can say that every one has been disappointing.  I can also say that, in retrospect, in almost every instance I see the wisdom of that closed door.

Finally, make the most of every situation, even if it’s not one you would have chosen. Again, hindsight helps.  We often don’t see what God is doing in the moment (we’re like Jesus’ first disciples–and many others–on that count).  But God is often doing things either in us or through us that are important and valuable, even if they’re not immediately visible.  Even if you can’t see fruit coming at the time, don’t assume it’s not there.