“Your Kingdom Come”

Recently I was talking (via email) to one of my favourite people about prayer and faith, etc. We were both sharing things that were close to us and I was really enjoying it. (It’s not too often that I get to chat to people about “deep” things, even less often do I share personal issues.) As a direct result of one of the conversations, although she doesn’t know it, I went out and bought a book on prayer. I had no idea what book I’d get; I just wanted to get one that was on prayer. I am terrible for picking books by there cover, and this was how I chose The Prayer God Longs For by James Emery White. It is a wonderful book – I’m half way through – and has been really beneficial to me.

Through the combination of talking to my friend and reading this book I think I have come to a stark revelation about my problem thus far with prayer. My problem with prayer not, as I was mistakenly lamenting to my friend on Sunday evening, a lack of faith in prayer; neither is it a lack in faith in the power and love of God. Surprisingly I think it is precisely the opposite of both said propositions: it’s the extent of my faith that prayer works and that God is both all-powerful and all-loving that presents a problem to me.

The problem is that I am terrified of praying properly because of what it might mean. “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven” [Matthew 6:10, NIV] is not my praying for action on God’s part, as is the misconception of probably 95% of Christians. Rather, it is demanding action on my part. Should I pray this lightly or “apart from all the courage [I] can muster would be to fail to understand what [I] am saying” [White].

Consider what I have just said alongside the following passage from Luke 17:20-21, NIV.

Once, having been asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God would come, Jesus replied, “The kingdom of God does not come with your careful observation, nor will people say, ‘Here it is,’ or ‘There it is,’ because the kingdom of God is within you.”

Praying for God’s kingdom to come is not a prayer for God to open up the sky and drop the New Jerusalem on top of Belfast next Saturday; it’s a prayer that God’s kingdom will become apparent in my own life. It’s a prayer of submission, on my part, to the working of God who is in me. I am to let Him work as He choses in me such that His kingdom will grow through me and transform the lives of others “on earth”.

“Just as this is prayed by individuals, the inescapable fact is that God’s kingdom on earth is to begin with us as individuals. We pray for God’s will to be done on earth, and then we rise from our knees to meet the challenge” [White]. Prayer is “a silent surrendering of everything to God” [Søren Kierkegaard].

Thus my problem with prayer is that it is so effective, which means my problem is that I believe that I have more to lose through prayer than I have to gain. What an idiot I am.

Love Hurts

I never knew just how much having the love of Christ within me could hurt until this morning. Never before have I felt so undeserving of the title Christian. The title of Christian (Greek stem: Χριστιανος – transliteration: Christianos) was first attributed to believers in the New Testament church at Antioch probably because of the work of Barnabus [Acts 11:25-26]. The most literal translation of this title is “little Christ”. But I wonder am I, in fact, a reflection of Christ. Am I a Christian – truly a little Christ – or merely a believer like the Devil and his angels?

In my postmodern, predominantly Presbyterian and free circle of believing friends, I notice a strong determination to grab a hold of the doctrine of grace. That is, that we are saved by grace alone, which is a gift from God so that no one can say that they earned it [Ephesians 2:8-9]. Now, whilst grace is true and I believe it with all my heart, I am becoming more and more aware that grace is not the end of the story.

This morning in church we were reading Isaiah 58 and Matthew 25:31-46, and boy did those readings strike home to me. I didn’t pay attention during the childrens’ address because I was captivated by two brief articles in our church bulletin: one about the plight of those who are still suffering in Kashmir as a result of the 8/Oct/05 earthquake there, and another about the hardship being faced by farmers and their families in Southern Africa due to heavy rains destroying farmland and causing an increase in disease.

There I was sitting in a not-so-comfortable church pew in a heated church and looking forward to my regular Sunday lunch when all of a sudden my mind (and my heart) were transported to Southern Africa. In my mind’s eye I could see a family: cold, hungry and in desperate, desperate need. I have only been close to tears on two other occassions in church: at the funeral of my grandfather and when I heard the true story of a young girl being shot because she lifted a Bible off the floor and held it close to her heart. This morning my heart felt as though it was breaking and I was close to tears.

How can I do nothing and yet still profess to be a little Christ? I don’t think my Sunday lunch will sit terribly well in my stomach this afternoon.

I feel so ashamed, but when I try to think of ways to help I feel so helpless! My lack of faith in prayer is shining through…

I’ve asked Tim to send me some information on Tearfund and I am resolving within myself to support their work… but even giving financially and praying feels like I am shirking my responsibility. The question “what would Jesus do?” carries with it weight that I never knew before.

God help me be a Christian and not merely a believer.

What a week!

I was off on Monday, which was a Public Holiday in the UK because New Year’s Day fell on a Sunday, and was back to work on Tuesday. So I only worked four days this week but I managed to rack up 42.5 hours in just four days. Plus I’m oncall until next Friday. Fortunately I didn’t get called last night so I probably won’t get called until Tuesday at 5am at the earliest.

I got a second night of good sleep last night, too, despite my poor throat. My voice is really hoarse these days – Carrie says it sounds like my voice has broken. (Thanks, Carrie!)

Being back to work obviously means I’ve less time to myself, hence the lack of entries this week. I haven’t even had time to read any more of my book! I must try and get through some more today. Louis Markos has given a synopsis of C. S. Lewis’ thoughts on the theodicy of the Problem of Pain and Suffering. I’ve read C. S. Lewis’ thoughts on the matter before, but Markos has refreshed my memory and told it in his own words. I don’t see the Problem of Pain and Suffering as a problem at all, thankfully. Well, that either means it is sufficiently “sorted” in my own mind or I’m completely ignorant to the intricacies of the problem.

Think I’ll go read some more now…