The Road Goes Ever On and On

Happy (Late) Saint Patrick's Day!

I love the story of Saint Patrick.  There are lots of legends surrounding him, but his true story is fascinating enough.  Imagine, being kidnapped as a young teenager from England, made a slave in Ireland, left alone most of the year with your master's sheep in the wilderness, escaping after several years, and then going back because God called you to be a missionary to the country of your captivity.  You couldn't make this up.

One of the most famous Celtic Christain prayers is an old Irish eighth-century prayer called "Saint Patrick's Breatplate." In honor of Saint Patick, I'll share some of it below  (If you want the whole thing, you can find it here):

I rise today

in the power of Christ's birth and baptism,

in the power of his crucifixion and burial,

in the power of his rising and ascending,

in the power of his descending and judging.

I rise today

in heaven's might,

in sun's brightness,

in moon's radiance,

in fire's glory,

in lightning's quickness,

 in wind's swiftness,

in sea's depth,

in earth's stabiliy,

 in rock's fixity.

I rise today with the power of God to pilot me,

God's strenght to sustain me,

God's wisdom to guide me,

 God's eye to look ahead ofr me,

God's ear to hear me,

God's word to speak for me,

God's hand to protect me,

God's way before me,

God's shield to defend me,

God's host to deliver me,

    from snares of devils,

    from evil temptations,

    from nature's failings,

    from all who wish to harm me,

    far or near,

    alone and in a crowd. . .

 

 

 

How Do You Relate To God?

All over the church spectrum are different approaches to intimacy with God.  Some folks are very transactional; if I do this for God, he will do this for me.  Others approach God as a topic to be systematized, understood, explained or rationalized.  These approaches play to your strengths; if you are relationally strong or a good salesman, you understand the first approach.  If you are strong analytically, the second works for you.

A few years ago, a lot of worship music presented Jesus as the greatest lover, which appealed to a lot of single women or those in unhappy marriages.  Personally, that sicky-sweet approach left me feeling nauseated.  The counter-approach would be the "Wild At Heart, God is a warrior" approach made popular by John Eldredge.  I identified with this one and still have a great deal of respect for John's thought and writing.  Both these approaches appealed to gender.

I could go on.  A few years ago, I came across this quote by Nikos Kazantzakis.  He was quoted in the book, Leading the Congregation by Norman Shawchuck and Roger Heuser, a book every pastor or church leader should read:

My prayer is not the whimpering of a beggar nor a confession of love.  Nor is it the trivial reckoning of a small tradesman: Give me and I shall give you.  My prayer is the report of a soldier to his general: This is what I did today, this is how I fought to save the entire battle in my own sector, these are the obstacles I found, this is how I plan to fight tomorrow.  My God and I are horsemen galloping in the burning sun or under drizzling rain.  Pale, starving, but unsubdued, we ride and converse.  "Leader!" I cry.  He turns his face towards me, and I shudder to confront his anguish.  Our love for each other is rough and ready, we sit at the same table, we drink the same wine in this low tavern of life.

Something about this quote captured me.  No matter which approach you gravitate toward, God invites intimacy, interaction, and frank exchange.  None of these approaches are fundamentally bad, as long as you don't refuse to change.  God wants us to know him in his fullness, and you can't do that if you aren't willing to let God reveal who he is outside of your template.  All of our approaches have limitations, and God is so much more than any of them.  He isn't just the greatest lover, he is Lord and leader.  He isn't just our comrade, he is the great and awesome God, surrounded by clouds and great darkness (Psalm 97:2). What does intimacy between you and God look like, and how might that change as you get to know him better?     

The Ultimate Life Coach

I'm all for books to help you be more productive, effective, and efficient.  Heck, I've read my fair share over the past several years.  As a Christian, I've also read quite a few books on personal and spiritual growth as well.  But I've discovered a serious problem: me.

Last Century the editor of a prominent London newspaper asked several famous individuals to write essays regarding what they considered to be the biggest problem with the world.  When solicited, G.K. Chesterton responded with the following letter:

    "Dear Sir:  What is the biggest problem  in the world right now? I am.  Sincerely, G.K.  Chesterton"

If you've read my blog or know me, you also know that I'm very serious about accountability within community; we all need people to help us judge our performance, effectiveness, and weaknesses because we have blind spots.  However, no human being can take the place of God as your ultimate life coach.  He knows the darkness of our hearts better than any man.  He also loves us with such ruthless abandon, that he will undertake the most serious surgical procedure to "save us to the uttermost." 

 As C.S. Lewis observed, God is the great iconoclast; he changes for no one.  We can manipulate or b.s. our friends, but we cannot manipulate or b.s. God. 

So what does this require of us?  Submission and trust.  When God takes all our props away, and we are left in darkness with nothing to lean on, not even the feeling of his presence, we submit and trust, knowing he is bringing a purity and strength to our lives no amount of self-help philosophy will ever bring. 

Strength Training

I don't appreciate the importance of time alone with God every day.  Some days I'm good at it, other times I tend to avoid it.  But I'm finding that it is key to my spiritual and emotional survival.

If I don't take time to hear what God says, it is so easy to believe the other messages that fill the world.  My days can become drudgery very quickly if time with  God is neglected.  Every day the world whispers it's subtle messages.  "God has left the building, Randy, and you are on your own."  "You've got to make your own way, pal; pull strings, make life happen."  "You are one among over 6 billion.  There's nothing special about you."  Time alone with God re-centers me in the reailty of his love, his care, his presence and my value to him. 

So it's not so much that I need new information every day; I need to be reminded of who God is, why I'm here, and how God sees me.

Psalm 18:22 in the message reads,  "Every day I review the ways he works."  This is vital for survival.  My relationship to God is my life, which is changing and dynamic.  Every day brings different but constant stresses and challenges that chip away at the eternal truths God speaks into my life.  If I do not take time to re-establish and renew myself in his presence, I can lose direction, purpose and a healthy emotional place simply by neglect.  It can cost me my life. 

So indulge me while I finish this post.  The love of my life is calling.

Prayer

Over the years, my understanding of prayer has radically changed.  That obviously means my understanding of God has changed too.  In my youth, prayer was like an obligation paid.  That was probably the most faithful prayer season of my life, but I would have to say it was also the most unfruitful.  Prayer wasn't give and take; it was me meeting my obligation to God, doing my duty.  Obviously, anything done out of duty or obligation doesn't last forever, and neither did this season.  I  call it my time-clock prayer season.

In my young adult phase, prayer was me wrestling with things that bothered me.  It still wasn't a time of communion with God.  It was me trying to fix my problems, me doing mental gymnastics, trying to sort out things I didn't understand.  Again, a very frenzied time; not much peace came of it, except maybe the peace of mental exhaustion.  I soon became sporadic in this type of prayer too.  We can call this the "mental calisthetics" prayer.

One of the more destructive times was a phase where I felt I had to use the correct technique.  If I didn't add a legalistic "in Jesus name" at the end, if I didn't enter that nebulous, mystical target of "praying in the spirit," I just knew my prayers were not going to get answered.  Your prayers must be unselfish, spirit-led, and theologically/ideologically correct, or you were wasting your time.  I would call this "mind your p's and q's" prayer.  It's like eating a formal dinner at your eccentric aunt's house, very exhausting and not very enjoyable.

Although I never swallowed it, I also met folks in my pentecostal/charismatic circles who wouldn't let other people pray for them because they could pray bad prayers. For instance, if someone has sin in their life and they prayed for you, they could ask for nonspiritual things or transfer spiritual energy that could cause bad things to happen to you.  I found that concept quite unchristian and a little new age.  It suggested that prayer was a force or power in its own right that could accomplish things without God's involvement at all.  "Casting spells" prayer, anyone?

What I've finally come to realize is that if I wait till my motives are perfect, I'd never pray.  Praise be to God that He doesn't require perfection in my emotions, expression, or inner life before I can come sit on his lap! It makes him look petty and small to think otherwise. 

Check out a few passionate prayers in the Psalms.  These guys asked God to kill their enemies and their enemies children.  I've found I can vent to God too, without worrying that I'll release some "bad force" on the world. Entertaining the notion that I can reach perfection in my prayer life is arrogant and narcissistic.  He is big enough to sort through my ugliness, the misplaced motives, the incorrect requests or hurt feelings.  If I can't come to him with that stuff, where can I go?  The freedom of knowing prayer as intimacy with God is extremely liberating. It keeps me coming back.