Prayer in a Disordered World

 

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Today we conclude our series in Colossians, and we end with an invitation to participate in the loving, liberating rule of Jesus. So let’s pray and ask God to open up our hearts to what the Spirit is at work doing.

Lord, we thank you. Thank you for your Scripture. Thank you for Colossians that has reminded us of the supremacy of your all-encompassing glory that’s at work in the world to liberate all creation. We as human beings get caught up in that liberation, and now we learn that we are partners in that liberating love.

Thank you for meaning and purpose, and I pray that you would open this up. Open up our faith to see you, to see you at work.

In Jesus’ name, amen.

I remember about 13 years ago I was at the Botanical Gardens with my little boy, Jackson. At the time he was barely walking—about a year and a half old. We had just brought him home from South Korea. If you know our story, we also found out we were pregnant about the same time we brought Jackson home.

Joanna had a really bad pregnancy. She was kind of angry that God answered her prayer. After so many years she had finally come to peace with the idea that maybe we would only adopt, and then suddenly we were pregnant.

But it was a horrible pregnancy. Kidney stones. Extreme pain. In and out of the hospital.

Joanna was in the hospital while I was with Jackson at the Botanical Gardens, looking at flowers and butterflies. I got a call that the doctors had found something concerning in some images they had taken of her stomach and body. It was the kind of concern where they were going to take more images and invite an oncologist to look.

Man, that means cancer.

I remember feeling panic. I remember feeling small and helpless and afraid. I remember praying there with little Jackson beside me.

I was praying for healing. Praying that there would be no cancer. Praying that the second set of images would reveal nothing, and that the doctors would have clear sight, clear vision, and wisdom.

So they took the second set of images. The oncologist looked at them and said, “What’s the problem?”

There was nothing there. Nothing to see.

Relief flooded my body when I heard that—joy and gratitude. But also explanation. I thought those first pictures must have been poor quality, that maybe there was nothing there in the first place.

But weeks later—maybe months later—I found myself asking: what if something was there? Is it possible that prayer actually changed something that big?

I don’t know.

But what if it did?

If prayer doesn’t matter, that moment didn’t matter. But if prayer does matter, then maybe something shifted in the unseen world as I sat there with Jackson praying.

And that’s the question that sits underneath Colossians 4 as Paul concludes this letter with his invitation into prayer.

Could it be that prayer is our participation—our meaningful participation—in the loving, liberating rule of Jesus breaking into our very lives, into the lives of the people we care about, and into the systems that are broken and hurting and causing pain?

Could it be that prayer matters? That prayer moves the needle?

Over the years I’ve had an on-again, off-again relationship with prayer.

At one point I thought prayer was how I told God what needed to happen. Then it shifted. With some theological shifts, I began to think prayer doesn’t really accomplish anything except in me. It doesn’t change God—it just changes me. It’s a way for me to grow.

Then we moved into our neighborhood with this conviction that the kingdom Jesus taught us to pray for—“Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven”—was something we should expect.

What’s in heaven? No sickness. No pain. No suffering. No broken bones. No disease. No broken relationships.

So we began to pray for these things.

In faith we laid hands on people who had illnesses, addictions, and broken bones.

Honestly, we didn’t see much movement.

So I began to withdraw from that and say, “What does prayer matter? What is the function of prayer?”

Honestly, I just prayed because you’re supposed to, but I wasn’t sure how it fit into God’s work in the world.

Then I read Colossians.

Paul, after proclaiming the supremacy of Jesus—the all-sufficiency of Jesus, the work of Jesus—says, “Devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.”

Devote yourselves to prayer.

This is a strong word. A strong exhortation. Devotion is a whole-life commitment. It’s like you’re all in.

Paul is saying: put all your chips on prayer. Devote yourselves.

This isn’t casual spirituality. This is urgency. Because prayer is how we participate in the loving, liberating rule of Jesus at work in the world.

Paul has proclaimed the supremacy of Jesus—how he is at work freeing everything. And he seems to be communicating to us in this letter, at the end, that we have a meaningful role, a necessary role, in seeing that this liberation is carried forward in our real lives: in our children’s lives, in our marriages, in our government, in our systems, and in the conflicts that plague the world.

Could it be—Karl Barth, a great theologian, says this: “To clasp the hands in prayer is the beginning of an uprising against the disorder of the world.”

That’s strong language. An uprising. A revolution against the disorder of the world—the pain of the world, the decay of the world that we experience every day, that we see on our televisions every day, that we experience in our families every day.

To clasp your hands in prayer is the beginning of resistance, of an uprising, of a revolution against the disorder of the world.

So prayer is not passive. It is resistance. It is resistance to all that harms human beings. It is also partnership—partnership with all that heals human beings and humanity and brings hope. It is standing in the gap between heaven and earth and saying, “Let your will be done. Let your will be done. Let your kingdom come. Let heaven be on earth.”

And so Paul says: be devoted.

How do you be devoted? Watchful.

As you are devoted, as you are committing your life to prayer, be watchful.

What are we watching for in prayer?

I think, first, it’s God’s future to come. The fancy theological word for this is eschatological. Eschatology is the study of last things.

In the New Testament there’s a very strong sense that God is coming back any time now, and we live in light of God’s imminent return. The last things are coming—Jesus’ return, where he will make all wrong things right. He will reverse the curse of sin and death, and all will be well.

So we live in light of the end.

And you watch for that. Be watchful. Every prayer is rooted in the future restoration of all things. That’s why we pray—because we believe that God isn’t done with our planet yet.

So we pray in light of the end.

But we also don’t pray just watching for the end. We are watching for the end to enter the now.

We are watching for how God’s kingdom is breaking into our world in this present time.

When Jesus rose from the dead, new creation began to move. It’s like Aslan in The Chronicles of Narnia, when the spring starts to arrive in a land where it’s always winter and never spring. Aslan is on the move, and you begin to see signs even before everything is consummated and complete.

Resurrection power and life have been unleashed in our present time and space.

So we look for evidence of the future in the here and now.

We’re watchful.

When we pray, we’re watchful for how the kingdom is at work, how the kingdom is on the move. And we’re watchful in two directions related to this.

First, we watch for where the kingdom is resisted. Where is the kingdom of life and love and forgiveness and healing being actively resisted? Where is the reconciliation of relationships being resisted and not taking shape?

We watch for that, and we pray.

Remember, we clasp our hands in resistance to all that resists God. So we pray that the resistance to the kingdom—that all that resists the kingdom—would not succeed.

But we also watch for where the kingdom is breaking through, and we push it forward.

One direction is pushing against what resists the kingdom. The other is getting behind what the kingdom is already doing and pushing it forward.

When we see a hint of forgiveness, a hint of restoration in a marriage we care about—even our own—we say, “Lord, more. More.”

Maybe we would understand each other more. Maybe we would forgive each other more. Maybe we would be more understanding.

We pray, watchful for how the kingdom is breaking through, and we pray that it continues.

Walter Wink, a theologian who wrote a lot on spiritual warfare, said prayer is “spiritual defiance of what is in the way of God’s promise.”

Again, this is that idea of the future and the promises of God. In Christ, every promise of God is yes. But there’s a lot trying to say no. There’s a lot pushing against it.

So we join the fight that God’s promises would root themselves in our lives and in our world.

We defy what stands against love and mercy and healing and forgiveness. And we join where love and mercy and healing are already flowing.

As I’ve said many times since I’ve been here with you, Eugene Peterson had this idea: every time you show up to a conversation or a situation, you are joining a conversation already in progress.

That conversation is happening between God and the person or situation you’re encountering.

Sometimes we think we’re bringing God into a dark situation. You’re not bringing God anywhere. God is already there. He is present. He is at work.

Our job is to watch—to pay attention.

How is God on the move in this relationship, in this conversation, in this person’s life?

I’m in conversation with this person, looking for that. I’m in conversation with the Lord: how am I in this present moment? How can I join what you’re doing?

Your kingdom is breaking in here. It is being resisted here. How do I join you in it?

We’re watchful.

We’re also thankful.

Paul says to be watchful and thankful.

Gratitude fuels prayer. Gratitude fuels joy.

Our brains are wired to see the negative. It’s part of survival. If you were running in a jungle trying to survive, your brain would need to be alert to where a panther might be lurking behind a tree.

Your brain is designed to scan for threats. Because of that, we are naturally inclined to see the negative.

Gratitude flips the switch. It says, “Actually, I’m going to train my brain to look for what is good—what is going my way, how God has broken into this space.”

Gratitude retrains our minds to see grace at work in the world.

So when we thank God for what God has done, we begin to see what God is doing.

Does that make sense?

When we thank God for what he has done, we gain more clarity to see what God is doing in our lives.

Gratitude also keeps God on the throne as the author of every good and perfect gift.

We don’t want to be like those lepers in Scripture. Ten were healed, and only one returned to give thanks.

That’s so often our narrative. It’s like when I prayed about Joanna and then said, “Oh great, the doctors must have messed up the X-ray.” I forgot to ask: what if God did something?

Give thanks for how God is at work in the world.

Gratitude reminds us to see and reminds us where every good blessing comes from.

So be watchful. Be devoted in prayer.

This is whole-life devotion. This is important stuff—urgent stuff.

It matters.

And how you do it is with watchfulness for the kingdom and gratitude for how God is on the move.

But prayer, Paul says, is also missional.

In this passage Paul is specifically inviting us into intercessory prayer for people who have not yet surrendered their lives to the loving, liberating rule of Jesus. They have not yet come to see it, join it, come underneath what Jesus has done, and follow him.

So Paul is inviting us to pray for people to see the loving, liberating rule of Jesus and to join it.

He says, “Pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ. Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should.”

So he prays for open doors.

This is a prayer for opportunity to declare the good news—that Jesus as Lord is liberating all creation, liberating all people, healing every wound, unlocking human flourishing in the world.

This is really good news.

The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe. Join the movement.

I ask myself—and I ask you this: when is the last time you asked for an opportunity to share the good news of Jesus?

It has probably been a while for me. Well, I prepared this sermon, so I’ve been praying for it. But before that, it had been a while.

When is the last time you were looking for opportunities? When is the last time you were praying for opportunities to share this good news?

Paul also prays for clarity—not just opportunity, but clarity.

He wants to communicate the gospel clearly and effectively.

I think this is a prayer asking that we would see the person in front of us and speak the good news to that person in a way that makes sense to them, that they can hear, that they can understand.

It’s asking that we would unpack the implications of the love and liberating work of God in their life.

We hear that Christ died for everyone. The gospel message is for everyone. But you’ve probably heard this before: he didn’t just die for everyone—he died for each one.

There is a gospel message that is general, and then there is a gospel message that is specific. It has your story, your personality, your hurts, your gifts, your joys, your hopes, your dreams, your aspirations, and your desires in view.

The good news of the gospel addresses each and every one of those things. It leverages each of your strengths, and it speaks into each part of your pain.

So when we communicate the gospel, we want to communicate it clearly—not just in a general way, like drawing a bridge diagram and saying, “Now believe.”

Instead we ask: what does this mean for you? For your life? What is your story?

So we ask for clarity.

How does the good news land in this person, in this place, at this time, in a way that makes sense? What is the heart language of the person I’m speaking to?

That’s the prayer—that we would have opportunity, and then that we would speak clearly to the person in front of us.

To do that, you have to listen. You have to be present.

You have to do that Eugene Peterson thing: every encounter is a conversation already in progress.

You have to pay attention.

What is God doing? How is he at work? Who is this person?

Get to know them.

We’ll get to this a little more when Paul talks about speech that is full of grace and seasoned with salt.

Paul prays that the mystery would be unlocked.

And what is this mystery?

That God is reconciling all people to himself.

This is a mystery not in the sense of something meant to be kept secret. It’s a mystery in the sense that it’s almost unbelievable. It’s beyond comprehension.

It’s like saying, “I can’t believe this.”

It’s too good to be true.

So this is the mystery we are sharing—that God is reconciling the world to himself.

I was on a really small television program last week, being interviewed on a little Christian television station. They gave me the opportunity to provide the questions I wanted them to ask so I could be prepared.

Very nice.

But the host said, “Forget those questions—I’ve got my own.”

So he launches into the interview, and suddenly he says, “Hey, would you look into that camera right there and speak to the person watching from their hotel room who is discouraged? Just tell them what God wants them to hear.”

I thought, where is that in the script?

But there was the opportunity. There was the open door.

Right now: God, may I speak clearly.

So you go. You move. You do it.

And hopefully, by God’s grace, that happens.

That’s what we’re praying for: opportunity and clarity. The ability to speak in that moment, at that point in time, what that person needs—what that moment requires.

Not complicated. Not waxing eloquently. Just clearly for the person in front of you.

And that can look different for every person.

Paul then goes on to talk about how prayer is not just words. This missional life is not only devoted to prayer—prayer becomes part of our life. It becomes embodied.

We embody the prayers that we pray.

We are meant to be living prayers, living witnesses, living missionaries of the good news of what God is doing.

So Paul says, “Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders. Make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt.”

Prayer becomes a way of life. Participation in the loving, liberating rule of Jesus becomes a way of life.

We have been liberated. We are loved. So the way we live our lives should be evidence that we are free and loved—and that we want others to experience that same freedom and love.

Paul says we should act wisely toward outsiders, making the most of every opportunity. When those doors open, make the most of them.

Then he talks about our speech: “Let your conversation be always full of grace.”

I think this means that every encounter with a Christian—or every person’s encounter with this church—ought to be an experience of grace.

Someone should walk away from a conversation or an interaction with a believer and have a deeper understanding of who they are.

They should feel seen.

Seen with the eyes of Jesus. Seen with the eyes of the Spirit.

They should leave with a deeper understanding of their value and worth—their inherent dignity—that they carry the image of the living God, that they were made in the image of God, that they are seen and known and loved.

I think this goes back to being watchful and thankful.

What are we watching for in the people we meet?

We’re watching for the beauty of the gospel already at work in their lives.

How is God at work in your children’s lives? In your spouse’s life? In your coworker’s life? In the stranger on the street?

We’re looking for evidence of grace, and we speak it. We name the grace that is already at work.

Because what the world often lacks is the ability to see what God is doing. They don’t have the vocabulary to name what’s happening.

But we—whose eyes have been opened—have the language to name the good news that is already at work in people’s lives.

That’s evangelism.

Evangelism is naming the good news that is already present in people’s lives and showing them how they are already brushing up against the grace of God.

So our speech should be full of grace.

People are loved by God. They are cared for by God. They are wanted by God.

I remember a man at one of our cookouts at the church where we used to serve. At New Creation, every fourth Sunday we would have a cookout in the parking lot. Everyone was welcome. People from the street would come.

The whole point was to help people encounter a Christian community that would name God’s good work and God’s love in their lives.

There was a man there who had just gotten out of prison. He had been in prison for a long time. Tattoos all over his face.

We were talking, and he was sharing how afraid he was to be out in the world. He felt vulnerable. He felt unsafe. He felt seen—but seen with the eyes of judgment.

He said when he walked into a Walmart he felt like everyone was looking at him, watching him, afraid of him.

He said, “It’s lonely.”

As we talked, he also shared his desire to restore relationships with his family members. He talked about the work he had begun doing in prison to help people get along with each other.

So I stopped him.

I said, “You’ve just told me how much love you have for your family. You’ve told me how much you want people to care for one another.”

I said, “I see the work of God in your life. Those desires you have—that is God at work in you.”

And you know what happened?

This big, intimidating-looking man started to cry. He gave me a hug and said, “I’ve never seen myself that way before. Thank you.”

People are hungry to know who they really are. They’re hungry to be seen with the eyes of Jesus.

And we have the ability to see people that way—and to name it.

Our speech should be full of grace.

Paul also says it should be seasoned with salt.

Now some Christians think this means rubbing salt in people’s wounds—making them feel the pain of their sin and guilt and shame so they realize their need.

That’s not what Paul is talking about here.

In ancient literature, saying that someone’s speech was “seasoned with salt” meant their speech was witty, winsome, and engaging. It created a thirst for more.

It’s like eating a big plate of Doritos.

My favorite chips are nacho cheese Doritos. Sometimes I even add extra cheese and microwave them. It’s amazing.

But after eating something that salty, you suddenly want something to drink. It creates thirst.

That’s the idea.

Our speech should create a thirst.

It should create a longing for more—for more truth, more grace, more of the God who sees and loves people.

Someone should walk away from a conversation with us thinking, “I want to know more about the God who sees me that way.”

Our encounters with people should be life-giving—full of grace and seasoned with salt.

Prayer makes us this kind of people.

When we pray for opportunity and open doors, when we pray that we would speak clearly, when we pray that our speech would be full of grace and seasoned with salt, we begin to live ready. We begin to live prepared.

The Spirit allows us to see. The Spirit allows us to respond.

Prayer is partnership.

Prayer matters.

Prayer, in some mysterious way, moves the needle of God’s kingdom coming on earth.

I’ll be honest with you—I don’t fully understand it. I have a lot of questions. I don’t know how prayer works.

How can God answer a prayer and not override human will? How can God answer some prayers when they might conflict with another person’s prayer?

Someone once said, if you pray that it won’t rain for your picnic while a farmer is praying for rain for their crops, whose prayer gets answered?

I don’t know how all that works.

But God is God. He’s got it.

I don’t understand how prayer works or how God can entrust the movement of his kingdom, in some sense, to the prayers of human beings.

But here’s what I see in Scripture: a constant invitation to partner with God in his work in the world.

I see that in the Old Testament. I see it in the New Testament. I see these “if–then” invitations.

If you pray… then something happens.

So I’m going to do it.

And I’m a big fan of Jesus. I believe Jesus shows us what God is really like. Jesus also shows us what it truly means to be human.

We are meant to be formed in the image of Jesus.

So for all the mystery, all the questions, and all the doubts, when I see Jesus praying, I think: okay.

Jesus centered his life around prayer.

He was constantly disappearing because he had withdrawn to pray. The Gospels say he often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.

He taught us to pray.

He taught his disciples to pray.

He said that some resistance to the kingdom can only come out through prayer.

He prayed for our unity in John 17.

And it’s actually kind of comforting that even Jesus’ prayer hasn’t been fully answered yet. The church has not fully experienced unity yet.

But Jesus is still praying.

Hebrews says he lives to intercede for his church.

If Jesus refused to move forward without prayer, and if Jesus is still praying, what makes us think we can move forward without prayer?

What makes us think the kingdom can advance without prayer?

Prayer is partnership.

Prayer is participation.

The evangelist D. L. Moody famously kept a running list of people he was praying for—people who did not yet know Jesus.

He kept their names in a notebook. Hundreds of names.

Every time one of them came to faith, he would mark a check beside their name.

Moody lived a long life and saw many people come to faith. But when he died, they discovered there were still two names in his notebook without check marks beside them.

At his funeral the gospel was proclaimed, and several people came to faith.

Among them were the final two names on Moody’s list.

Here was a man who prayed faithfully. He saw many answers to prayer, but some answers came after he was gone.

I think we get discouraged. We don’t always understand how our prayers make a difference.

It’s kind of like throwing pebbles into a pond.

Imagine a pond so deep you can’t even see the pebble land. You throw one pebble in, and it seems like nothing changes.

Then you throw another. And another. And another.

Each pebble is like a prayer.

The pond might represent the struggle, the person you’re praying for, the brokenness of the world.

You throw one pebble in and it doesn’t look like anything changes. But what if you keep throwing pebbles?

Eventually, one final pebble fills the pond.

Now let me ask you: which pebble mattered?

Was it the first one? The hundredth one? The ten-thousandth one? The last one?

Which one mattered?

All of them.

Every single one mattered.

What if the prayer you are about to stop praying—the prayer you are about to give up on—is the one just before the breakthrough?

And here’s the beautiful thing about the community of faith.

It’s not just you throwing pebbles.

It’s your community throwing pebbles.

It’s other churches in the city throwing pebbles—praying for unity, praying for God’s kingdom to come on earth as it is in heaven, praying for the people you love and care about.

And it’s not just churches in this city.

It’s churches across the nation.

And it’s not just churches in this nation.

It’s churches across the world.

What if we are all throwing pebbles?

What if we are all praying together?

Will those ponds begin to fill up?

Will we see movement in the kingdom—ponds of despair filled, ponds of war filled, ponds of division filled?

So let me invite you to pray—even when you don’t understand it.

Pray.

Join God in his work.

Step into the mystery of prayer.

Your kids matter.

Your marriages matter.

Your friends matter.

This world matters.

So let me encourage you to pray.

Let’s pray like the kingdom of God depends on it.

Because it just might.

Lord Jesus, we thank you for this privilege.

And right now I want to invite you to think of one person who doesn’t yet know Jesus.

Jesus knows them. Jesus is already at work in their life.

Would you begin by watching?

Watch for how God is already at work in their life.

And then ask yourself: what are some ways you could name that?

What words of grace—seasoned with salt—could you speak that point to the beauty of the work of God already happening in their life?

Let’s take a moment now to sit quietly and pray for that one person.