Prayer Readings (2023)
J. Oswald Sanders, Spiritual Clinic and Effective Prayer ............................................................... 2
Paul Miller, A Praying Life .......................................................................................................... 12
Randy Newman, Unlikely Converts “Prayerfully” ....................................................................... 20
Ole Hallesby, Prayer ..................................................................................................................... 29
Rick Warren, Purpose Driven Life ............................................................................................... 39
Chuck Smith, Effective Prayer Life .............................................................................................. 47
Tim Keller, Prayer: Experiencing Awe & Intimacy With God .................................................... 57
J. Oswald Sanders, Spiritual Clinic and Effective
Prayer
THE ART OF PRAYING WITH AUTHORITY
If it is by the Spirit of God that I drive out demons, then the kingdom of God has come
upon you. Or again, how can anyone enter a strong man’s house and carry off his
possessions unless he first ties up the strong man? Then he can plunder his house—
Matthew 12:28, 29
When a strong man, fully armed, guards his own house, his possessions are safe. But
when someone stronger attacks and overpowers him, he takes away the armor in which
the man trusted and divides up his plunder—Luke 11:21, 22
PRAYER MAY BE RESOLVED into five constituent elements. Adoration is the soul lost in the
wondering worship of God. Thanksgiving is the heart overflowing in grateful appreciation of His
many mercies. Confession is the expression in words of genuine contrition, of a sense of sin and
failure to attain to the Divine standard. Petition is the laying of personal needs before a loving
heavenly Father. Intercession is request for others who do not stand in the same place of
privilege and who do not enjoy the same access into the presence of God. Each of these elements
of prayer will find its place in a well-balanced devotional life.
Within the ministry of intercession there may be contrasting spiritual activity. Our
intercession may be the calm expression of a restful faith: “Ask, and it shall be given you” (Matt.
7:7). “Anyone who comes to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who
earnestly seek him” (Heb. 11:6). Or it may be expressed in spiritual conflict: “I want you to
know how hard I am contending for you” (Col. 2:1). “Epaphras… sends greetings. He is always
wrestling in prayer for you” (Col. 4:12). “Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against
the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world” (Eph. 6:12). This latter
aspect of prayer is too little known and practiced, but the mastery of what has been called
“prayer warfare” will change defeat into victory in many a situation.
In the passages which head this chapter, Christ was trenchantly refuting the ridiculous charge
of the Pharisees that He was exorcising demons by the power of the prince of demons. As though
the Devil would be naïve enough to destroy his own kingdom! Jesus pointed out that surely His
casting out demons indicated His mastery over their prince rather than subservience to him.
“THE STRONG MAN”
This graphic pictorial representation of authoritative praying presents us with “a strong man
armed,” who keeps his palace and his goods in peace until “one stronger than him” overcomes
him and divides the plunder. “The strong man” is the Devil whose power over the souls and
minds of men is mighty though limited. The “one stronger than him” is none other than the Lamb
because of whose blood we can overcome the powers of darkness (Rev. 12:11).
The Lamb is engaged in deathless conflict with “the strong man,” and He will not rest until he is
overcome and his palace utterly despoiled. And in this conflict between rival kingdoms the
intercessor fills an important role. But he will never play his part with the fullest effectiveness
unless he has a vivid sense of the victory of Christ gained over the Devil at the cross. He must
constantly recognize and count on the fact that Satan is a vanquished foe since Calvary.
It was the discovery of this aggressive aspect of prayer which turned defeat into victory in the
experience of the apostle to the Lisu people of Southwest China, Mr. James O. Fraser. He had
worked for five years with great devotion and self-sacrifice, but with little to show for it. Not
only was he discouraged in his work, but he had almost reached the point of desperation in his
own inner experience. Deliverance and blessing came through reading an article in a magazine
which had been sent to him. Here is his own account:
What it showed me was that deliverance from the power of the evil one comes through
definite resistance on the ground of the cross. I had found that much of the spiritual teaching
one hears does not seem to work. My apprehension at any rate of other aspects of truth had
broken down. The passive side of leaving everything to the Lord Jesus as our life, while
blessedly true, was not all that was needed just then.... We need different truth at different
times. Definite resistance on the ground of the cross was what brought me light, for I found
that it worked. I found that I could have victory in the spiritual realm whenever I wanted it....
One had to learn gradually how to use this new-found weapon of resistance.
Being an engineer by profession, Mr. Fraser was always interested in seeing things work, and as
he began to apply this truth so new to him, he was thrilled to find he had not been misled. Not
only did new victory come into his life, but the longed-for blessing was poured out upon his
beloved Lisu, a trickle which grew into a mighty stream.
“FIRST BIND . . . THEN . . . PLUNDER”
It is by no means impossible that our failure to recognize the priorities indicated in Scripture is a
potent cause of lack of effectiveness in our witness. Christ said we must first bind “the strong
man” before we can plunder his goods. “No one can go into a strong man’s house and carry off
his property, unless he first binds the strong man, and then he will plunder his house” (Mark
3:27, Weymouth).
Are we at pains to observe this order so clearly enunciated by our Lord, or do we
unsuccessfully try to plunder his house while he is still unconstrained? If so, it is little wonder
that in so many cases he has snatched back souls we have endeavored to deliver from his
clutches. It is this heartbreaking experience which has discouraged so many missionaries, who
have seen people make profession of faith and then have watched them sucked back into the
vortex of the world-system. Too much of our praying is merely the repeated offering of an
earnest petition rather than what Jesus referred to as binding “the strong man.”
So that we may understand what is meant by this expression we will consider the way in
which our Lord Himself bound him. He had three great encounters with the Devil—in the
wilderness, in the garden, and on Golgotha.
In the wilderness He achieved His first victory by successfully resisting the temptation which
assailed Him along the only three avenues by which it can reach man—appetite, avarice, and
ambition. Each phase of temptation He rebutted with the Sword of the Spirit, and the Devil,
vanquished, left Him for a season. Because of this triumph Jesus was able to confidentially
claim: “The prince of this world comes, and has nothing in me” (John 14:30). We shall be
powerless to effect the practical binding of Satan if there are unyielded areas in our lives which
give him a hold over us.
Our Lord’s next major encounter with the Devil was in the Garden of Gethsemane. So
intense and agonizing was His conflict that, contrary to nature, his “sweat was like drops of
blood falling to the ground” (Luke 22:44). And how did He triumph on this occasion? By
merging His will in the will of His Father. There is a striking progression in His prayers.
“Jesus knelt down and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not
my will, but yours be done’” (Luke 22:41, 42).
“He went away a second time and prayed, ‘My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to
be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done’” (Matthew 26:42).
In the second prayer, the reluctance of the human will evidenced in the first petition has been
lost in glad acceptance of the Divine will. There is no “My will and Your will” but only “Your
will.” He is now able to cry, not with mere acceptance, but with exultation: “The cup which my
Father has given me, shall I not drink it?” (John 18:11).
Thus Satan suffered another shattering defeat as the Lord steadfastly refused to move from
complete and joyous acceptance of His Father’s will even though it involved death on the cross.
With us too there must be an unquestioning acceptance of the will of God if we are to remain in
the place of victory.
The complete and final defeat of the Devil was consummated at Golgotha, where Christ
triumphed over him in His death. “And the hostile princes and rulers He shook off from Himself,
and boldly displayed them as His conquests, when by the Cross He triumphed over them” (Col.
2:15, Weymouth). Was not the very purpose of His Incarnation “that through death he might
destroy him that had the power of death . . . the devil”? (Heb. 2:14).
The word “destroy” used in the latter passage means “to render inoperative, to put out of
action” and the same idea is involved in the command to “bind” the strong man. By His death
our Lord forever broke the power of the Devil over the believer. Henceforth he was a usurper.
Any dominion he now exercises over us is either because we fail to apprehend and appropriate
the completeness of Christ’s triumph, or is the result of sin tolerated in our lives, which provides
a vantage ground for his activities. Let us firmly grasp the fact that Christ has “destroyed” and
“bound” the Devil, and as members of His Body, united to Him by a living faith, sharing the
same life, we may participate in His victory. The victory was our Lord’s victory. The final
execution of the sentence on Satan will be by Him to whom all judgment has been committed.
But He identifies us with Him in this victory. His triumph becomes ours.
POTENTIAL AND ACTUAL
The practical question arises: How does this victory over Satan become actual and operative in
the sphere which is our special concern? It is not sufficient to know that on the cross Christ
potentially delivered every soul from Satan’s power. The potential must be translated into the
actual and this is done when we exercise the spiritual authority which has been given to us.
When the Seventy returned radiant from their journey of witness, rejoicing that even the demons
were subject to them, Jesus made an amazing statement, the full significance of which is seldom
realized. “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. I have given you authority… to overcome
all the power of the enemy” (Luke 10:18, 19). We are in no less privileged position than were
these early disciples.
In this utterance Jesus linked with the overthrow of Satan, the delegation to His disciples of
authority over all the power of the enemy, an authority which they could use in any situation and
at any time. As they wielded this authority, they found that it worked and even demons were
subject to them. By making use of Christ’s authority, we may bind Satan and then confidently
“spoil his house.”
But in doing this we must be sure of our ground. Acts 19 records the attempt of the seven
sons of Sceva “Jewish exorcists,” to exercise authority over Satan and evil spirits. When their
own attempts at exorcism failed, they tried to use an authority they did not possess. “We adjure
you by Jesus whom Paul preaches,” they commanded. But recognizing the fraud, the demon in
the possessed man replied: “Jesus I know, and Paul I know: but who are you?” (Acts 19:15).
“Then the man who had the evil spirit jumped on them and overpowered them all. He gave them
such a beating that they ran out of the house naked and bleeding” (Acts 19:16). It is a solemn
thing to pretend to an authority which has not been conferred. The powers of darkness are not to
be treated lightly.
Jesus was well known to the demons, and feared by them, too. “I know you who you are, the
Holy One of God” (Mark 1:24), was the unbidden testimony. “Are you come here to torment us
before the time?” (Matt. 8:29). For thirty years they had watched Jesus’ sinless life and knew
they had no hold over Him. They were acquainted with Paul too. Had they not rejoiced in his
thirst for Christian blood? And had they not been dismayed at his complete transformation on the
Damascus Road which made him their most dreaded foe? Yes, they were acquainted with Paul.
But they did not know these vagabond Jews. Their names were not known in Hell. Are our
names known to the powers of darkness or are we spiritual nonentities, offering no threat to their
kingdom? Are our prayers effectual in binding “the strong man” or does he laugh at our puny
attempts to spoil his house?
NEEDLESS INEFFECTIVENESS
The father of the demon-possessed boy lamented over the very disciples on whom Christ had
bestowed His authority over all the power of the enemy when he said “they could not” exorcise
the demon. When they asked the Lord: “Why could not we cast him out?” He diagnosed the
cause in one word—unbelief (Matt. 17:20, 21). They had no vital faith in the authority He had
given them and their unbelief had paralyzed them. When we find ourselves involved in a
situation for which our human power is totally inadequate, it is for us, making use of Christ’s
authority, to claim the victory He won on the cross and to maintain the stand of faith until the
victory becomes manifest. Is this not what the apostle meant by fighting the fight of faith?
God taught this lesson to James O. Fraser as, with a deepening conviction begotten by the Holy
Spirit, he claimed in prayer more than one hundred Lisu families. He wrote:
Satan’s tactics seem to be as follows, he will first of all oppose our breaking through to the
place of faith, for it is an authoritative “notice to quit.” He does not so much mind carnal,
rambling prayers, for they do not hurt him much. That is why it is so difficult to attain to a
definite faith in God for a definite object. We often have to strive and wrestle in prayer (Eph.
6:10) before we attain this quiet restful faith. And until we break right through and join hands
with God, we have not attained to real faith at all. However, once we attain to a real faith, all
the forces of hell are powerless to stop it.... The real battle begins when the prayer of faith is
offered.
Making use of Christ’s authority and participating in His victory we can be instrumental in
binding “the strong man” in any given spiritual situation. Only then will we be in a position to
spoil his goods and deliver his captives.
PRAYER AND ITS PURPOSES
“We do not know what we ought to pray for.”
Romans 8:26
The Spirit-filled Christian is essentially a man of prayer, since he is indwelt by the Spirit of
prayer. In no spiritual exercise is he more dependent on the Spirit than in his prayer life.
PRAYER IS A PARADOX. No spiritual exercise is such a blending of complexity and
simplicity. It is the simplest form of speech that infant lips can try, yet the sublimest strains that
reach the Majesty on high. It is as appropriate to the aged philosopher as to the child. It is the
ejaculations or outbursts of a moment and the attitude of a lifetime. It is the expression of the rest
of faith and of the fight of faith. It is an agony and an ecstasy. It is submissive and yet
unrelenting. In one moment it lays hold of God and binds the devil. It can be focused on a single
objective and it can roam the world. It invests puny man with a sort of omnipotence, for “all
things are possible to him that believes.”
Small wonder, then, that even its greatest exponent was forced to admit: “We do not know
what we ought to pray for.” But he hastens to add: “The Spirit comes to the aid of our
weakness... through our inarticulate groans the Spirit himself is pleading for us, and God who
searches our inmost being knows what the Spirit means, because he pleads for God’s own people
in God’s own way” (Rom. 8:26-27, N.E.B.). He links Himself with us in our praying and pours
His supplications into our own.
Discussion Question: What does it mean to “pray in the Spirit”? As you read this
section below, see what Sanders thinks about this, and be ready to answer at the end of this
section.
PRAYER AND THE SPIRIT
With such an encouraging assurance before us, it is clear that in any consideration of the subject
of prayer, the Holy Spirit must have prime place. We may master the technique of prayer and
understand its philosophy; we may have implicit confidence in the veracity of the promises
concerning prayer and spend much time pleading them; but if we consciously or unconsciously
ignore the part played by the Holy Spirit, we have failed to use the master-key that has been
made available to us.
We need constant instruction in the art of praying, and He is the Master Teacher of this basic
element of the spiritual life. It is worthy of note that the Spirit’s assistance in prayer is more
frequently mentioned than any of His other offices. All true praying springs from His activity in
the heart. Both Paul and Jude teach that effective prayer is “praying in the Holy Spirit,” which
has been defined as praying “along the same lines, about the same things, in the same Name as
the Holy Spirit.” All true prayer rises in the spirit of the believer from the Spirit who indwells
him.
Praying in the Spirit may have a dual significance. It may mean praying in the realm of the
Holy Spirit, for He is the sphere and atmosphere of the believer’s life. The Spirit is in us and we
are in the Spirit. Many prayers are psychological rather than spiritual. They move in the realm of
the mind only, and are the product of our own thinking and not of the Spirit’s teaching. But
praying in the Spirit is something deeper. The prayer envisaged here “utilizes the body and
demands the cooperation of the mind, but moves in the supernatural realm of the Spirit.” Prayer
conducts its business in the heavenlies.
Or it may mean praying in the power and energy of the Holy Spirit: “Give yourselves wholly
to prayer and entreaty; pray on every occasion in the power of the Spirit” (Eph. 6:18, NEB).
Prayer demands more than human power and energy for its supernatural task, and the Holy Spirit
supplies it. He is the Spirit of power as well as the Spirit of prayer. Mere human energy of heart
and mind and will can achieve only human results. But praying in the power of the Spirit releases
supernatural resources.
It is the Spirit’s delight to aid us in our physical and moral weakness in the prayer life, for the
praying heart labors under three limiting handicaps; but in each of them we can count on the
Spirit’s assistance. Sometimes we are kept from prayer because of the conscious iniquity of our
hearts. The Spirit will lead and enable us to appropriate the cleansing of the blood of Christ
which will silence the accusations of the adversary and remove the sense of guilt and pollution.
Always we are hampered by the limiting ignorance of our minds. The Spirit who knows the mind
of God will share that knowledge with us as we wait on Him. Then there will come the quiet,
clear conviction that our request is in the will of God, and faith will be kindled. We are often
earthbound through the benumbing weakness of our bodies. The Spirit will quicken our mortal
bodies in response to our faith and enable us to rise above physical and climatic conditions.
Are we availing ourselves of His help along these lines? Is this our present experience? Have
we slipped into an independence of the Spirit? Are we habitually praying in the Spirit and
receiving full answers to the strategic prayers He inspires? Our intellectual appreciation of
spiritual truths often outruns our practical experience of their benefits and implications.
Discussion Question: According to Sanders above, what does it mean to “pray in the
Spirit”?
PRAYER AND TIME
Mastering the art of praying in the Spirit will take time, a commodity of which there seems to be
a universal and chronic shortage. Lack of time is a much overworked excuse for neglect of duty.
Strangely enough, even in the midst of a busy schedule, we always find time for what we really
want to do. In reality, the fundamental problem does not lie in the time factor but in the realm of
will and desire. Each of us has all the time there is, and each has as much time as any other. We
all choose our own priorities and put first that which we consider most important. If prayer is
meager, it is because we consider it supplemental and not fundamental in our program. To our
Lord it was not a reluctant addendum but an absolute necessity.
Our Lord moved through life with majestic and measured tread, never in a hurry although
always in haste. Thronged with demanding crowds, He always found time to complete His
appointed task. Time exercised no power over Him because He knew there were sufficient hours
to fulfill His Father’s will. If daylight hours afforded insufficient time for prayer, there were
always the night hours. And He could always rise “a great while before day” to enjoy the
communion with His Father for which there was no other time.
If we trust Him, the Holy Spirit will guide us in allocating sufficient time to prayer and will
enable us to do it. Crowding duties also constitute a reason for reducing time spent in prayer. To
Martin Luther, extra work was a strong argument for devoting more time to prayer. Once, when
asked his plans for the following day, he answered: “Work, work from early to late. In fact, I
have so much to do that I shall spend the first three hours in prayer.” It all depends on our
allocation of priorities.
PRAYER AND SATAN
Prayer is spiritual warfare. “We wrestle... against principalities and powers.” In this aspect of
prayer there are three and not two personalities involved. Between God and Satan stands the
praying man. Though pitifully weak in himself, he occupies a strategic role in the deathless
struggle between the Lamb and the dragon. His power and authority in this warfare are not
inherent but derived from the victorious Christ to whom he is united by faith.
Throughout the Gospels, Jesus is seen occupied not so much with the wicked men and evil
conditions He confronted as with the forces of evil behind them. Behind the well-meaning Peter
and the traitorous Judas, He saw the black hand of Satan. We see souls bound in sin, but our
objective in prayer should be not only to pray for them but also to pray against Satan who holds
them captive. He must first be compelled to relax his hold on them, and only the power of
Christ’s cross appropriated by the prayer of faith can achieve this. Jesus dealt with the cause, not
the effect. Do we adopt the same method in our praying?
In a graphic illustration Jesus likened Satan to a well-armed king who, by reason of his
power, kept his palace and his goods in peace (Matt. 12:28-29). Before he could be dislodged
and his captives released, Jesus said he must himself first be bound and rendered powerless.
Only then could the rescue be effected.
What does it mean to bind the strong man, if not to restrain his power by drawing on the
conquering power of Him who was manifested to destroy (render inoperative or powerless) the
works of the devil (1 John 3:8)? And how is this effected but by the prayer of faith which lays
hold on the victory of Calvary and believes for the manifestation in the specific context of the
prayer? Let us not make the mistake of reversing the Lord’s order and expect to effect the rescue
of the captives without first binding the adversary. Let us confidently accept our divinely-given
privilege and exercise the authority placed in our hands. “Behold I have given you authority...
over all the power of the enemy” (Luke 10:19, E.R.V.).
“Satan dreads nothing but prayer,” wrote Samuel Chadwick. “The one concern of the devil is
to keep the saints from praying. He fears nothing from prayerless studies, prayerless work,
prayerless religion. He laughs at our toil, mocks our wisdom, but trembles when we pray.”
PRAYER AS LABOR
Both our Lord and Paul made it clear that prayer is no mere pleasant, dreamy reverie. “All vital
praying makes a drain on a man’s vitality,” wrote J. H. Jowett. “True intercession is a sacrifice, a
bleeding sacrifice.” Jesus performed many mighty works without outward sign of strain, but of
His praying it is recorded that “he... offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and
tears” (Heb. 5:7).
“Epaphras is always wrestling for you in his prayers,” wrote Paul to the Colossian Christians
(4:12). How pale a reflection of Epaphras’ intercessions are our languid prayers. The word
“wrestling” is that from which our word “agony” is derived. It is used of a man toiling at his
work until utterly weary (Col. 1:29), or competing in the arena for the coveted laurel wreath (I
Cor. 9:25). It describes the soldier battling for his life (1 Tim. 6:12), or a man struggling to
deliver his friend from danger (John 18:36). It pictures the agony of earnestness of a man to save
his own soul (Luke 13:24).
But its supreme significance appears in the tragedy of Gethsemane. “Being in agony Jesus
prayed more earnestly” (Luke 22:44), an agony induced by His identification with and grief over
the sins of a lost world. Prayer is evidently a strenuous spiritual exercise which demands the
utmost mental discipline and concentration. Was it because of this fact that our Lord sometimes
linked prayer with fasting?
True intercession is costly. Jesus first gave Himself and then made intercession for His
murderers. He could do no more for them. Are we asking of God something we ourselves could
supply? Can it be true intercession until we are empty-handed? True intercession demands the
sacrifice and dedication of all; it cannot be costless and crossless.
UNANSWERED PRAYER
The fact is that a great many prayers go unanswered, and it is much easier to fatalistically regard
unanswered prayer as the will of God than to deliberately set out to discover the causes of
failure. Should we be less honest in our approach to this perplexing problem than a merchant to
his adverse balance sheet? Perhaps our reluctance to analyze our failures in prayer is rooted in a
mistaken solicitude for God’s honor. But God is more honored when we ruthlessly face the fact
of our unanswered prayers than when we piously ignore it.
The underlying reason for every unanswered prayer is that in some way we have asked amiss
(James 4:3). Could it be that we have substituted faith in prayer for faith in God? We are
nowhere exhorted to have faith in prayer, but we are counseled, “Have faith in God” (Mark
11:22). Faced with this very problem, the disciples asked Jesus: “Why could we not...?”
“Because of your unbelief,” replied the Master. An analysis of our prayers might result in the
disconcerting discovery that many of them are not the prayer of faith at all, but only the prayer of
hope — or even of despair. We earnestly hope that they will be answered, but we have no
unshakable assurance to that effect. God has, however, undertaken to answer only the prayer of
faith. “Whatever you pray for, and ask, believe that you have got it and you shall have it” (Mark
11:24, Moffatt Version). Don’t think the translator has got his tenses wrong! It is we who have
our attitude wrong.
Another prolific source of defeat in prayer is a secret sympathy with sin. “If I regard [cling
to] iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me” (Ps. 66:18). Then let us search out and rectify
the causes of our unanswered petitions, and the answers will surely come.
Discussion Questions
1. What is your reaction to this chapter? What spoke to you?
2. Sanders writes, “It is little wonder that in so many cases Satan has snatched back
souls we have endeavored to deliver from his clutches. It is this heartbreaking experience
which has discouraged so many, who have seen people make profession of faith and then
have watched them sucked back into the vortex of the world-system.” What are practical
ways to remember to continue to pray for people who have already come to Christ? How can we
prioritize this important ministry and not neglect it?
3. Sanders writes, “We often have to strive and wrestle in prayer (Eph. 6:10) before we
attain this quiet restful faith. And until we break through and join hands with God, we have
not attained to real faith at all. However, once we attain to a real faith, all the forces of hell
are powerless to stop it.... The real battle begins when the prayer of faith is offered.” We’ve
all experienced the difficulty of losing concentration, feeling mentally foggy, or feeling
distracted when trying to pray.
Here’s our questions: Have you experienced what it’s like to push through these times to
“real faith” as Sanders calls it? What are ways to help keep focused and avoid distraction?
4. What do you think of Sanders’ rebuttal to those who say they are too busy to pray? He
writes, “Lack of time is a much overworked excuse for neglect of duty. Strangely enough, even
in the midst of a busy schedule, we always find time for what we really want to do. In reality, the
fundamental problem does not lie in the time factor but in the realm of will and desire… We all
choose our own priorities and put first that which we consider most important.”
Paul Miller, A Praying Life
UNDERSTANDING CYNICISM
THE OPPOSITE OF A childlike spirit is a cynical spirit. Cynicism is, increasingly, the dominant
spirit of our age. Personally, it is my greatest struggle in prayer. If I get an answer to prayer,
sometimes I’ll think, It would have happened anyway. Other times I’ll try to pray but wonder if it
makes any difference.
Many Christians stand at the edge of cynicism, struggling with a defeated weariness. Their
spirits have begun to deaden, but unlike the cynic, they’ve not lost hope. My friend Bryan
summarized it this way: “I think we have built up scar tissue from our frustrations, and we don’t
want to expose ourselves anymore. Fear constrains us.”
Cynicism and defeated weariness have this in common: They both question the active
goodness of God on our behalf. Left unchallenged, their low-level doubt opens the door for
bigger doubt. They’ve lost their childlike spirit and thus are unable to move toward their
heavenly Father.
When I say that cynicism is the spirit of the age, I mean it is an influence, a tone that
permeates our culture, one of the master temptations of our age. By reflecting on cynicism and
defeated weariness, we are meditating on the last petition of the Lord’s Prayer: “Lead us not into
temptation, but deliver us from the evil one” (Matthew 6:13, NIV).
Cynicism is so pervasive that, at times, it feels like a presence. Behind the spirit of the age
lies an unseen, personal evil presence, a spirit. If Satan can’t stop you from praying, then he will
try to rob the fruit of praying by dulling your soul. Satan cannot create, but he can corrupt.
THE FEEL OF CYNICISM
Satan’s first recorded words are cynical. He tells Adam and Eve, “For God knows that when you
eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God” (Genesis 3:5). Satan is suggesting
that God’s motives are cynical. In essence, he tells them, “God has not been honest about the tree
in the middle of the garden. The command not to eat from the tree isn’t for your protection; God
wants to protect himself from rivals. He’s jealous. He is projecting an image of caring for you,
but he really has an agenda to protect himself. God has two faces.” Satan seductively gives
Adam and Eve the inside track — here is what is really going on behind closed doors. Such is
the deadly intimacy that gossip offers.
Satan sees evil everywhere, even in God himself. Ironically, it became a self-fulfilling
prophecy. Since the Fall, evil feels omnipresent, making cynicism an easy sell. Because cynicism
sees what is “really going on,” it feels real, authentic. That gives cynicism an elite status since
authenticity is one of the last remaining public virtues in our culture.
I shared these reflections on cynicism with Cathie, a friend who was struggling with
cynicism. She reflected on her own heart, saying: “Cynicism is taught in our schools, embraced
by our culture, and lifted up as ideal. It seems insidious to me. Somehow these dulled, partial
truths often feel more real to me than the truths taught by Scripture. It is easier for me to feel
skepticism and nothing than to feel deep passion. So cynicism takes root and ‘feels’ more real to
me than truth.”
“I know that I am not alone in my struggle with cynicism. But most of us are not aware that it
is a problem, or that it is taking hold in our hearts. It just feels like we can’t find the joy in things,
like we are too aware to trust or hope.”
Cathie’s insights are on target. Cynicism creates a numbness toward life.
Cynicism begins with the wry assurance that everyone has an angle. Behind every silver
lining is a cloud. The cynic is always observing, critiquing, but never engaged, loving, and
hoping. R. R. Reno, a Catholic scholar, called cynicism a perverse version of “being in the world
but not of the world.” We’ve moved from a Promethean age of great deeds to a listless, detached
age.1 Yoani Sánchez, a thirty-two year-old Cuban blogger and leading spokesperson for her
generation, wrote, “Unlike our parents, we never believed in anything. Our defining
characteristic is cynicism. But that’s a double-edged sword. It protects you from crushing
disappointment, but it paralyzes you from doing anything.”2
To be cynical is to be distant. While offering a false intimacy of being “in the know,”
cynicism actually destroys intimacy. It leads to a creeping bitterness that can deaden and even
destroy the spirit. Cathie is feeling the early edges of that.
A praying life is just the opposite. It engages evil. It doesn’t take no for an answer. The
psalmist was in God’s face, hoping, dreaming, asking. Prayer is feisty. Cynicism, on the other
hand, merely critiques. It is passive, cocooning itself from the passions of the great cosmic battle
we are engaged in. It is without hope.
If you add an overlay of prayer to a cynical or even weary heart, it feels phony. For the cynic,
life is already phony; you feel as if you are just contributing to the mess.
A JOURNEY INTO CYNICISM
Cynicism begins, oddly enough, with too much of the wrong kind of faith, with naïve optimism
or foolish confidence. At first glance, genuine faith and naïve optimism appear identical since
both foster confidence and hope. But the similarity is only surface deep. Genuine faith comes
from knowing my heavenly Father loves, enjoys, and cares for me. Naïve optimism is
groundless. It is childlike trust without the loving Father.
No culture is more optimistic than ours. America’s can-do spirit comes from the JudeoChristian confidence in the goodness of God acting on our behalf. Knowing that the Good
Shepherd is watching and protecting me gives me courage to go through the valley of the shadow
of death. Even in the presence of my enemies, I can enjoy a rich feast because God is with me.
Faith in God leads to can-do boldness and daring action, the hallmarks of Western civilization.
In the nineteenth century that optimism shifted its foundation from the goodness of God to
the goodness of humanity. Faith became an end in itself. President Roosevelt rallied the nation
during the Depression by calling people to have faith in faith. In The Sound of Music Julie
Andrews sang about having confidence in confidence itself. Disneyland, the icon of naïve
optimism, promises that we’ll find Prince Charming and live happily ever after.
Optimism rooted in the goodness of people collapses when it confronts the dark side of life.
The discovery of evil for most of us is highly personal. We encounter the cruelty of our friends
in junior and senior high. In college the princes turn out to be less than charming. If we have
children, we learn they can be demanding and self-centered.
At breakfast recently I asked Kim [my daughter with autism] if she wanted to get married.
She typed out on her speech computer, “No, it is too noisy.” At first, I thought she meant the
wedding, but then she corrected me. She was talking about the kids. She’s right. Children can be
self-absorbed, constantly demanding attention. Our modern child-centered homes simply
reinforce this. Jesus is acutely aware of this side of children when he calls the Pharisees whining
children:
To what then shall I compare the people of this generation, and what are they like? They
are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling to one another, “We played the
flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not weep.” (Luke
7:31-32)
Shattered optimism sets us up for the fall into defeated weariness and, eventually, cynicism.
You’d think it would just leave us less optimistic, but we humans don’t do neutral well. We go
from seeing the bright side of everything to seeing the dark side of everything. We feel betrayed
by life.
As my friend Cathie reflected on why this is true in her own life, she observed, “I make the
jump from optimism to darkness so quickly because I am not grounded in a deep, abiding faith
that God is in the matter, no matter what the matter is. I am looking for pleasant results, not
deeper realities.”
The movement from naïve optimism to cynicism is the new American journey. In naïve
optimism we don’t need to pray because everything is under control, everything is possible. In
cynicism we can’t pray because everything is out of control, little is possible.
With the Good Shepherd no longer leading us through the valley of the shadow of death, we
need something to maintain our sanity. Cynicism’s ironic stance is a weak attempt to maintain a
lighthearted equilibrium in a world gone mad. These aren’t just benign cultural trends; they are
your life.
At some point, each of us comes face-to-face with the valley of the shadow of death. We
can’t ignore it. We can’t remain neutral with evil. We either give up and distance ourselves, or
we learn to walk with the Shepherd. There is no middle ground.
Without the Good Shepherd, we are alone in a meaningless story. Weariness and fear leave
us feeling overwhelmed, unable to move. Cynicism leaves us doubting, unable to dream. The
combination shuts down our hearts, and we just show up for life, going through the motions.
Some days it’s difficult to get out of our pajamas.
THE AGE OF CYNICISM
Our personal struggles with cynicism and defeated weariness are reinforced by an increasing
tendency toward perfectionism in American culture. Believing you have to have the perfect
relationship, the perfect children, or a perfect body sets you up for a critical spirit, the breeding
ground for cynicism. In the absence of perfection, we resort to spin — trying to make ourselves
look good, unwittingly dividing ourselves into a public and private self. We cease to be real and
become the subject of cynicism.
The media’s constant Monday-morning quarterbacking (“this shouldn’t have happened”)
shapes our responses to the world, and we find ourselves demanding a pain-free, problem-free
life. Our can-do attitude is turning into relentless self-centeredness.
Psychology’s tendency to hunt for hidden motives adds a new layer to our ability to judge
and thus be cynical about what others are doing. No longer do people commit adultery out of lust
— they have unmet longings that need to be fulfilled.
Cynicism is the air we breathe, and it is suffocating our hearts. Unless we become disciples
of Jesus, this present evil age will first deaden and then destroy our prayer lives, not to mention
our souls. Our only hope is to follow Jesus as he leads us out of cynicism.
BECOME LIKE A LITTLE CHILD
Discussion Question: In this section below, Miller argues that Jesus wants us to have the faith
of little children. In what ways should we model our faith after little children? In what ways
would this be inappropriate?
ON MORE THAN ONE occasion, Jesus tells his disciples to become like little children. The most
famous is when the young mothers try to get near Jesus so he can bless their infants. When the
disciples block them, Jesus rebukes his disciples sharply. “Let the children come to me; do not hinder
them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the
kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it” (Mark 10:14-15). Jesus’ rebuke would have surprised
the disciples. It would have seemed odd. Children in the first century weren’t considered cute or
innocent. Only since the nineteenth-century Romantic era have we idolized children.
Another incident occurs when the disciples are traveling and begin arguing with one another as to
who is the greatest (see Mark 9:33-37). When they get to Peter’s house in Capernaum, Jesus asks
them what they were talking about on the way. The disciples just look at the ground and shuffle their
feet. At first Jesus says nothing. He sits down, takes a little boy, and has him stand in their midst.
Then Jesus picks him up and, while holding him, says, “Unless you turn and become like children,
you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3). Little children, even in adult form, are
important to Jesus.
A lesser known incident happens when the disciples return all excited from their first missionary
journey, saying, “Lord, even the demons submit to us in your name” (Luke 10:17, NIV). Jesus
responds with a joyous prayer, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden
these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children” (Luke 10:21).
Jesus is thrilled his disciples are like little children.
Not surprisingly, the disciples often behave like little children. For instance, what does Peter do
with whatever is on his mind? He blurts it out. That’s what children do. Once when I preached at an
inner-city church, a woman with an operatic voice sang a solo. After the service she kindly came up
to Kim and asked her what she thought of her singing. Kim, who because of her autism cringes at
loud music, put her fist to her forehead, the sign for “dumb.” The woman turned to Jill and asked her
what Kim had just signed. Jill gulped. Jill was in sign-language interpreter training, which trains
people to interpret exactly what the other person says. So Jill said, “It was dumb.”
The disciples, like Kim, just say what is on their minds, seemingly without thinking. After the
Last Supper they tell Jesus, “Ah, now you are speaking plainly and not using figurative speech!”
(John 16:29). When James and John want to become number one and two in the kingdom, they have
their mother go to bat for them (Matthew 20:20-21). Except for Judas, the disciples are without
pretense.
Jesus wants us to be without pretense when we come to him in prayer. Instead, we often try to be
something we aren’t. We begin by concentrating on God, but almost immediately our minds wander
off in a dozen different directions. The problems of the day push out our well-intentioned resolve to
be spiritual. We give ourselves a spiritual kick in the pants and try again, but life crowds out prayer.
We know that prayer isn’t supposed to be like this, so we give up in despair. We might as well get
something done.
What’s the problem? We’re trying to be spiritual, to get it right. We know we don’t need to clean
up our act in order to become a Christian, but when it comes to praying, we forget that. We, like
adults, try to fix ourselves up. In contrast, Jesus wants us to come to him like little children, just as
we are.
COME MESSY
The difficulty of coming just as we are is that we are messy. And prayer makes it worse. When we
slow down to pray, we are immediately confronted with how unspiritual we are, with how difficult it
is to concentrate on God. We don’t know how bad we are until we try to be good. Nothing exposes
our selfishness and spiritual powerlessness like prayer.
In contrast, little children never get frozen by their selfishness. Like the disciples, they come just
as they are, totally self-absorbed. They seldom get it right. As parents or friends, we know all that. In
fact, we are delighted (most of the time!) to find out what is on their little hearts. We don’t scold
them for being self-absorbed or fearful. That is just who they are.
That’s certainly how Jill and I responded to Kim. We were uncertain whether she would ever be
able to walk, so when she took her first step at three years old, we didn’t say, “Kim, that was all very
well and good, but you are two years late. You have a lot of catching up to do, including long-range
walking, not to mention running, skipping, and jumping.” We didn’t critique how messy or late Kim
was. What did we do? We screamed; we yelled; we jumped up and down. The family came rushing
in to find out what had happened. Cameras came out, and Kim repeated her triumph. It was
awesome.
This isn’t just a random observation about how parents respond to little children. This is the
gospel, the welcoming heart of God. God also cheers when we come to him with our wobbling,
unsteady prayers. Jesus does not say, “Come to me, all you who have learned how to concentrate in
prayer, whose minds no longer wander, and I will give you rest.” No, Jesus opens his arms to his
needy children and says, “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest”
(Matthew 11:28, NASB). The criteria for coming to Jesus is weariness. Come overwhelmed with life.
Come with your wandering mind. Come messy.
What does it feel like to be weary? You have trouble concentrating. The problems of the day are
like claws in your brain. You feel pummeled by life.
What does heavy-laden feel like? Same thing. You have so many problems you don’t even know
where to start. You can’t do life on your own anymore. Jesus wants you to come to him that way!
Your weariness drives you to him.
Don’t try to get the prayer right; just tell God where you are and what’s on your mind. That’s
what little children do. They come as they are, runny noses and all. Like the disciples, they just say
what is on their minds.
We know that to become a Christian we shouldn’t try to fix ourselves up, but when it comes to
praying we completely forget that. We’ll sing the old gospel hymn, “Just as I Am,” but when it
comes to praying, we don’t come just as we are. We try, like adults, to fix ourselves up.
Private, personal prayer is one of the last great bastions of legalism. In order to pray like a child,
you might need to unlearn the nonpersonal, nonreal praying that you’ve been taught.
Discussion Question: In this section above, Jesus said that he wants us to have the faith of
little children. In what ways should we model our faith after little children? In what ways
would this be inappropriate?
THE REAL YOU
Why is it so important to come to God just as you are? If you don’t, then you are artificial and unreal,
like the Pharisees. Rarely did they tell Jesus directly what they were thinking. Jesus accused them of
being hypocrites, of being masked actors with two faces. They weren’t real. Nor did they like little
children. The Pharisees were indignant when the little children poured into the temple (after Jesus
had cleansed it) and began worshipping him. Jesus replied, quoting Psalm 8, “Out of the mouth of
infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise” (Matthew 21:16).
The only way to come to God is by taking off any spiritual mask. The real you has to meet the
real God. He is a person.
So, instead of being frozen by your self-preoccupation, talk with God about your worries. Tell
him where you are weary. If you don’t begin with where you are, then where you are will sneak in
the back door. Your mind will wander to where you are weary.
We are often so busy and overwhelmed that when we slow down to pray, we don’t know where
our hearts are. We don’t know what troubles us. So, oddly enough, we might have to worry before
we pray. Then our prayers will make sense. They will be about our real lives.
Your heart could be, and often is, askew. That’s okay. You have to begin with what is real. Jesus
didn’t come for the righteous. He came for sinners. All of us qualify. The very things we try to get rid
of — our weariness, our distractedness, our messiness — are what get us in the front door! That’s
how the gospel works. That’s how prayer works.
In bringing your real self to Jesus, you give him the opportunity to work on the real you, and you
will slowly change. The kingdom will come. You’ll end up less selfish.
The kingdom comes when Jesus becomes king of your life. But it has to be your life. You can’t
create a kingdom that doesn’t exist, where you try to be better than you really are. Jesus calls that
hypocrisy — putting on a mask to cover the real you.
Ironically, many attempts to teach people to pray encourage the creation of a split personality.
You’re taught to “do it right.” Instead of the real, messy you meeting God, you try to re-create
yourself by becoming spiritual.
No wonder prayer is so unsatisfying.
So instead of being paralyzed by who you are, begin with who you are. That’s how the gospel
works. God begins with you. It’s a little scary because you are messed up.
Become like the little children Jesus surrounded himself with. When Nathanael first hears about
Jesus, he says the first thing that comes to his mind: “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
(John 1:46). It is the pure, uncensored Nathanael. When Jesus greets Nathanael, you can almost see
Jesus smiling when he says, “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!” (1:47). Jesus
ignores the fact that Nathanael has judged Jesus’ entire family and friends in Nazareth. He simply
enjoys that Nathanael is real, without guile, a man who doesn’t pretend. Jesus seems to miss the sin
and see a person. It is classic Jesus. He loves real people.
God would much rather deal with the real thing. Jesus said that he came for sinners, for messedup people who keep messing up (see Luke 15:1-2). Come dirty. The point of the gospel is that we are
incapable of beginning with God and his kingdom. Many Christians pray mechanically for God’s
kingdom (for missionaries, the church, and so on), but all the while their lives are wrapped up in their
own kingdoms. You can’t add God’s kingdom as an overlay to your own.
TOUCHING OUR FATHER’S HEART
The opening words of the Lord’s Prayer are Our Father. You are the center of your heavenly
Father’s affection. That is where you find rest for your soul. If you remove prayer from the
welcoming heart of God (as much teaching on the Lord’s Prayer does), prayer becomes a legalistic
chore. We do the duty but miss touching the heart of God. By coming to God “weary and heavyladen,” we discover his heart; heaven touches earth and his will is done.
We have much more to learn about praying, but by coming like a little child to our Father, we
have learned the heart of prayer. I say “we” deliberately because I regularly forget the simplicity of
prayer. I become depressed, and after failing to fix my depression, I give up on myself and remain
distant from God. I forget the openness of my Father’s heart. He wants me to come depressed, just as
I am.
If you get this simple truth, then, like Kim, you have taken your first wobbly step. In fact, you
might want to take a wobbly step now by pausing to pray like a little child.
Discussion Questions
1. What is your reaction to this chapter? What spoke to you?
2. Miller writes, “Cynicism is so pervasive that, at times, it feels like a presence… If Satan
can’t stop you from praying, then he will try to rob the fruit of praying by dulling your soul.
Satan cannot create, but he can corrupt.” Miller states that Satan is the ultimate architect behind
the rampant cynicism in our culture. Do you agree with his argument?
3. What benefits does cynicism offer?
What are the costs of cynicism? Consider Miller’s words, “We are alone in a meaningless
story. Weariness and fear leave us feeling overwhelmed, unable to move. Cynicism leaves us
doubting, unable to dream. The combination shuts down our hearts, and we just show up for
life, going through the motions. Some days it’s difficult to get out of our pajamas.”
4. We often teach that becoming a generous financial giver is a key to avoid falling into
materialism. In what ways is active prayer the solution for cynicism?
5. Do you ever feel cynical during times of group prayer? What are ways to actively change your
attitude, rather than passively giving in to cynicism?
Randy Newman, Unlikely Converts “Prayerfully”
Carlos told me his mother was a godly woman who prayed a lot. As I listened to his story, I
couldn’t imagine his mother not spending hours on her knees. By the time Carlos reached his senior
year in high school, he experienced what he called “a descending lifestyle.” You can imagine the
ingredients—drugs, alcohol, peer pressure, suicidal thoughts—but that would only account for part of
the picture. An intellectual curiosity and a sharp mind plunged him into a depressing cycle of reading
atheistic rants and “watching a lot of philosophical videos and things about religion—both good and
bad.”
The unique twist for Carlos’s story was the rags-to-riches drama of his immigrant family coming
to America and struggling to survive. For a time he, along with his father and mother, were homeless,
living in a car “some people just gave us.” Some other kind people, Christians from a nearby church,
eventually gave them a place to live, helped his parents find jobs, and even gave them a computer.
One would hope that such a story would turn to the happy ending at that point. Kindness leads to
conversion, right? Didn’t I just imply that in the previous chapter? But such straight lines of cause
and effect are rare in conversion narratives. For Carlos, the spiritual plummet began with the rise in
economic stability. The luxury of a roof over their heads and a computer in his bedroom opened the
ways for Carlos to descend.
Did Carlos’s mother pray for him? I’m pretty sure she did. I didn’t interview her but Carlos did
say he saw her on her knees several times, often in tears. Can we connect those prayers to his
turnaround? Did her intercessions spark his reading of Christian books, watching online videos that
featured R. C. Sproul, Ravi Zacharias, John Lennox, and other apologists? Did his mother’s attitude
toward God change Carlos’s attitude toward Christians—from “annoyance” to “intrigue”?
ENCOURAGEMENT FROM SCRIPTURE
Prayer may always mystify us. How our requests affect God’s actions falls outside anyone’s
intellectual capabilities. But we are on solid biblical ground to assume that prayer and evangelism are
linked. I have pointed to Colossians 4:2–6 several times as an underpinning for this book. The
passage also supports the notion that intercession and outreach weave together. Consider that Paul
asks for prayer for an open door for outreach after exhorting the Colossians to “devote [themselves]
to prayer, being watchful and thankful” (v. 2).
While this passage may convince us that prayer and evangelism are inseparable, even the most
stalwart of prayer warriors may get tempted to lose heart. Why else would Paul tell us to “devote”
ourselves to the task, and why else would Jesus have told us the parable of the persistent widow? The
text tells us why—so that we would “always pray and not give up” (Luke 18:1). If there’s one thing
I’ve learned about prayer, it’s that it’s easy to quit. Talking to an invisible God about things we can
rarely measure sets us up for diminished enthusiasm. And this is especially true when it comes to
praying for unsaved people to come to faith. I find it encouraging that Paul told the Colossians,
“Epaphras … is always wrestling in prayer for you” (Col. 4:12). Wrestling! Now there’s an image
that captures the realities of intercession.
Some have questioned whether we should pray for the salvation of nonbelievers. They claim that
the prayers recorded for us in the New Testament are for Christians. Paul prayed for believers to
grow, not for outsiders to get saved, they argue. But they fail to take into account all the data. To be
sure, most of Paul’s prayers focus on the believers to whom he writes. But he also prayed for the
salvation of nonbelievers. He told the church in Rome that his “heart’s desire and prayer to God for
the Israelites is that they may be saved” (Rom. 10:1). And when Agrippa asked Paul if he thought his
preaching would actually persuade him to become a Christian “in such a short time,” Paul replied,
“Short time or long—I pray to God that not only you but all who are listening to me today may
become what I am.” Then, almost as comic relief, he added, “except for these chains” (Acts 26:28–
29).
I conclude that we do have biblical warrant for praying for unsaved people’s salvation. And that
takes devotion. We’d much rather they respond in a “short time” rather than a “long time.” To help
us remain devoted to prayer, Paul offers two suggestions: watchfulness and thankfulness. After we
pray, we watch and see how God may be orchestrating his dynamic answer to prayer. And when we
see answers, we should take note. That’s why many people have found it helpful to keep a written
prayer journal, complete with dates of when prayers were first offered and dates for when God
answered. The blank lines on the pages, where we’re still waiting for answers, will be surrounded by
inked evidence to help us persevere.
We should also consider another problem that has tempted some Christians to lose heart in
prayer: trying to make sense of it all. If we insist on understanding how God works in answering
prayer, when he in fact already knows everything and causes all things to conform to his will, we will
find ourselves in the quagmire of prayerlessness.
Consider what New Testament scholar D. A. Carson has to offer about this puzzle:
If you believe that God “elects” or chooses some people for eternal life, and does not
choose others, you might be tempted to conclude that there is no point praying for the lost.
The elect will infallibly be saved: why bother praying for them? … If on the other hand you
think that God has done all he can to save the lost, and now it all depends on their free will,
why ask God to save them? He has already done his bit; there’s very little else for him to do.
Just get out there and preach the gospel…. You can really hurt your head thinking about this
sort of thing.1
Carson wrote an entire doctoral dissertation about the relationship between divine sovereignty
and human responsibility.2 If he’s admitting the possibility of a headache from this kind of
theological reflection, I’m willing to stop demanding total comprehension before getting on my
knees. He concludes: “The slightly ingenuous but enthusiastic believer may have more experience at
prayer than the theologian who thinks a lot about prayer.”3
ENCOURAGEMENT FROM SPECTACULAR HISTORY
In addition to looking to Scripture, we can glance at the past. God has worked in spectacular
ways many times in the history of his people. And prayer has played a significant part. Hearing these
historical highpoints can motivate us to pray diligently and echo Psalm 85:6: “Will you not revive us
again, that your people may rejoice in you?” Some may be reluctant to sign on to the sweeping
statement of pastor and missionary A. T. Pierson, who declared, “There has never been a spiritual
awakening in any country or locality that did not begin in united prayer.”4 But even if we add
numerous caveats, we cannot deny the biblical teaching on the efficacy of prayer and the examples
from history of God’s choice to respond to prayer in dramatic ways.
For several reasons (all of them bad), many Christians have heard very little about revivals.
Perhaps we recoil at the mental image of emotion-manipulating camp meetings that claim more of
God’s blessing than they should. Or perhaps we feel squeamish with the notion of telling God when
and how we want him to act. I share these concerns. But God’s word reiterates his will that we ask,
seek, and knock (Matt. 7:7), not lose heart in prayer (Luke 18:1), and that we should “pray
continually” (1 Thess. 5:17). What risks do we really face if we implore our sovereign God to draw
unsaved people to himself, pour out his spirit of revival in our day, and advance his kingdom in
dramatic, unprecedented ways? Indeed, could it be said that we “do not have because [we] do not ask
God” (James 4:2)?
People who have studied revivals—genuine outpourings of God’s power—exhort us to join them
in their enthusiasm. Old Testament scholar Walter Kaiser urges us to begin with “examining the
great revivals of the Bible.”5 Second Chronicles, for example, is a book totally crafted around the
“central organizing motif” of revival.6 Studying Old Testament revivals is contagious, insists Kaiser,7
and will make us fervent in prayer for the evangelization of the nations.
Martyn Lloyd-Jones urged his church and readers of his important work, Revival, to study
Scripture’s teaching about revivals and history’s examples of them. To fail to do so will leave us
complacent and willing to settle for mediocre outreach and anemic preaching. Some, he bemoans,
“have excluded revival altogether from their thinking and from their doctrine of the Holy Spirit.”8
Collin Hansen and John Woodbridge, in their essential book, A God-Sized Vision: Revival Stories
That Stretch and Stir, warn us, “Our problem today may be worse than mere forgetfulness. We’ve
never even heard many of the revival stories that buoyed the faith of Lloyd-Jones. They’ve been
lost.”9
Perhaps no one has done as much to champion these stories than J. Edwin Orr, a first-rate scholar
and seminary professor who wrote thousands of pages (over forty published books) to bring stories of
revival to light. He used the phrase from Acts 3:19, “times of refreshing” to describe the works God
has done throughout history. He elaborated, “The outpouring of the Spirit effects the reviving of the
Church, the awakening of the masses, and the movement of uninstructed peoples towards the
Christian faith; the revived Church, by many or by few, is moved to engage in evangelism, in
teaching, and in social action.”10
Church historian Richard Lovelace documented ways prayer has paved the way for expanded
evangelism and spiritual renewal of churches. His research shows these “times of refreshing” were
not just unusual emotional displays but a deepening of the church through “spiritual revitalization
combined with doctrinal and structural reformation.”11
Consider just two stories from our history that spark prayer for God to work powerfully—one
amazing, the other amusing. America experienced “the closest thing to a truly national revival in [its]
history”12 in 1857–58. It began with extraordinary prayer and resulted in spectacular conversion
growth of churches. J. Edwin Orr wrote an entire book about it, boldly titled The Event of the
Century. As Hansen and Woodbridge describe, “Every Protestant denomination was caught up in its
wake…. Between 1856 and 1859, Protestant denominations added 474,000 members.”13
Often referred to as the “Prayer Meeting or Businessmen’s Revival,” it began when Jeremiah
Lanphier (someone we know little about) invited businessmen to pray during a lunch hour he hoped
to hold weekly. We do know that Lanphier spent a lot of time evangelizing people who lived around
his church in Manhattan. Might we surmise that witnessing motivates us to pray? What could drive
us to our knees more than evangelism—no matter how “successful” we might be?
The first prayer meeting seemed to lack evidence of divine blessing. No one showed up to join
Lanphier for the first half hour. Eventually, six men arrived. But the next week, twenty came. Less
than a month later, the average attendance grew to more than thirty, requiring them to move to a
larger room. In less than two months, the attendance exploded to more than two hundred, attracting
the attention of the secular news media of the day. Before long, other prayer meetings sprang up
around the city and in other cities as well. Philadelphia’s prayer meetings swelled to more than three
thousand less than six months after Lanphier’s first gathering. In a relatively short time, more than
ten thousand people were gathering for prayer every day! Horace Greeley’s New York Tribune even
published a special revival issue. (Can you imagine hearing about something like this today from
CNN?)
I encourage you to read Hansen and Woodbridge’s stirring account of this seldom-told story. If
that only whets your appetite, dig into Orr’s three-hundred-plus-page retelling. You’ll see that prayer
was only the beginning. Hundreds of people sensed God’s call to missionary and pastoral ministry
during these meetings. Church worship services drew unsaved people by the scores. New converts
were baptized in unprecedented numbers. And college campuses around the country erupted in
revival.
The more you hear of this extraordinary moment, the less you’ll think Orr overstated the title of
his book. Better still, you’ll be motivated to pray for God to work in similar ways in our world today.
One friend told me he prays for spiritual “awakening” every morning when he wakes up. His own
rising prompts him to ask God to rouse our world from its spiritual slumber.
The second story demonstrates that just as prayer leads to conversions, so conversions lead to
individual and societal change. God’s saving work of rebirth is only the beginning of his
transformational work of sanctification.
Fifty years after “the event of the century,” another wave of revival broke out in Wales. Orr
documents the effects of thousands of individual conversions in his book The Flaming Tongue.
“Cases of drunkenness in Wales exceeded twenty thousand a year before the Revival but had
dropped 33% in the three years following the movement…. Long standing debts were paid, and
stolen goods returned.”14
[clip fundy example]
ENCOURAGEMENT FROM THE LESS THAN SPECTACULAR
Hearing about revivals can indeed stretch and stir and motivate us to pray for our evangelistic
efforts. But it might also discourage some of us. Anything short of earthshaking, dramatic, crowdswelling revival might make us wonder if we’re making any impact at all. Things might seem so bad
at this current moment in time that we could feel swept away by tidal waves of secularism,
skepticism, and spiritual apathy.
But a closer look at our current situation could bolster our devotion to prayer and jumpstart our
boldness in outreach. Historian Lincoln Mullen says, “Americans … change their religions—a lot.”
Some “change religious traditions more than once.” He relies on a 2009 Pew Research Center report
that shows “46 percent of Americans have changed their religious affiliation from the faith in which
they had been raised as children.”16
In an interview with Mullen, Emma Green, a staff writer for The Atlantic (whose editors boldly
titled the interview “Convert Nation”), offered, “There’s a myth out there about American religion
which goes something like this: We have reached a crisis point in religious affiliation. Everyone is
running away from traditional religious observance, and religion is going to die. Your book
significantly undermines that myth.”17
Mullen affirmed her point. Contrary to the seeming prevalence of secularism, people may be very
interested in religion today and quite open to converting. Mullen highlights the uniquely American
nature of this openness. “Compared to most of Europe, the United States is famously religious.”18 He
says this is because “the prevalence of religion as choice instead of religion as inheritance is
distinctly (though not uniquely) American.”19
I make much of his parenthetical phrase “though not uniquely.” Our world is becoming more
globalized by the second and, I suspect, more open to the possibility of conversion. American pop
culture flows across international boundaries (for good or for ill) through the boundary-crashing flow
of the internet, social media, and Twitter feeds. Openness to changing one’s religion can’t seem all
that far-fetched in a day when people consider changing their gender! We may be experiencing the
beginning rumblings of a worldwide revival that will prompt future historians to write books with
titles like The Event of the Twenty-First Century.
A PERSONAL EXAMPLE
Spending hours of interviewing recent converts prompted me to reexamine my own journey to
faith. Over time, we reinterpret our experiences through greater understanding of Scripture and
deeper gratitude for the ways God worked in our life. We recall certain events we left out of earlier
versions of our testimony. Seemingly insignificant happenstances now appear divinely ordained and
pivotal. In a book filled with people’s stories of faith, it seems only fair for me to tell you mine.
When I usually tell my story, I begin almost fifty years ago with Yom Kippur, the Jewish holiday
of the Day of Atonement, when I was fifteen years old. Having grown up in a relatively secular
Jewish home in a predominantly Gentile community, I learned, more than anything, that we were not
like “them.” We were Jews, and the one thing Jewish people knew for certain is that we didn’t
believe in Jesus. We also believed we are God’s “chosen people” (although we rarely investigated
exactly what that meant).
I found myself bothered by the disparity between my own lack of connection with God (despite
my best efforts to obey his commandments) and the close connection some Gentile Christian friends
seemed to have with “my God.” I prayed in Hebrew, God’s ordained dialect, but felt like my prayers
went nowhere. They prayed in English—and sounded like they really connected.
So on that Yom Kippur, two years after my Bar Mitzvah (the milestone that I thought was
supposed to bring me into a personal relationship with God), I decided to get this year’s rendition of
that holy day “right.” I would spend all day in the synagogue and pray all the prayers prescribed for
that day. I would confess all the sins included in the liturgy. And I would deny myself (see Lev.
16:29) many things—food, the luxury of driving in a car, and so forth—to fulfill my need for
atonement. But it didn’t work. I found myself walking home at sunset feeling no closer to God than I
had felt twenty-four hours before.
And then I saw my shoes. I had gotten dressed up for the holiest day of the year in a nice suit and
neatly polished dress shoes. But suddenly I remembered an important lesson from my Hebrew school
education years before. On Yom Kippur, the rabbis taught that you’re not allowed to wear leather
shoes. They’re too much of a luxury for a day of self-denial. That’s why God still seemed distant to
me. I had worn the wrong shoes! The discouragement was palpable.
But then I thought, “That’s the stupidest thing in the world. That’s how you get to know God?
Obey this rule, obey that rule, wear the right shoes?” I do not remember praying but it must have had
the same effect as a prayer when I muttered, “There’s got to be another way.” I now look back at that
moment and see that God began to answer that prayer-like request in unexpected ways.
Shortly after that walk home in fine leather shoes, a friend invited me to his church’s youth
group. He wasn’t particularly religious as far as I could tell, and his invitation appealed to other
motives than spiritual longing. “It’s a lot of fun and the girls are cute,” he told me. So I went. And he
was right!
For the next year, I attended almost every activity the youth group sponsored—roller skating
parties, concerts, game nights, trips to the beach, you name it. Along the way, I heard the gospel.
They always included some kind of “religious” component to every event. We’d sing songs and
listen to a short sermon everywhere we went. Somehow, all that talk about Jesus didn’t bother me too
much. In fact, it intrigued me. Of course, whenever anyone asked what I thought about Jesus, I
repeated what my parents, the entire Jewish community, and my rabbi trained me to say. “Oh, we
don’t believe in Jesus. We’re Jewish. Jesus was just a good teacher. That’s all.”
Over time, people at that youth group (people my own age and their parents) started challenging
me on that “Jesus was just a good teacher” line. More profoundly, I sensed that these people really
did know God. They said they had “a personal relationship with God,” and I believed them. And, as I
think back about it now, I think I got jealous, just as Romans 11:11 says Jewish people will do when
Gentiles know their God better than they do.
On one occasion, we took the church’s minibus to the beach. As we pulled out of the parking lot,
someone stood up at the front of the bus and said, “Hey, everyone! Let’s pray.” He closed his eyes
and prayed, “Thank you, Lord, for this beautiful day and the chance we have to go to the beach.
Please help us to have a good time, to stay safe, and to not get badly sunburned. In Jesus’s name,
Amen.”
How odd, I thought. You don’t pray on a bus on the way to a beach. I thought these people were
lunatics. You don’t bother the Almighty with things like sunburn! But that started me wondering.
Maybe you do! Wouldn’t it be great if you could know God that way and talk to him about anything?
In English! As I interacted with those friends at the youth group, they repeatedly urged me to read the
New Testament and another book called Mere Christianity by some guy named C. S. Lewis. They
even gave me a paperback copy of the New Testament. But I had been warned not to read that book
because of its anti-Semitism. My rabbi repeated many times that the New Testament was responsible
for the Holocaust and other atrocities against our people. So I didn’t read the book and forgot about
that Lewis guy.
I went off to college a short time later and majored in beer. Well, the transcript said I majored in
music, but a casual evaluation of how I spent my time during my freshman year would find more
support of a fascination with Heineken than Haydn. I added some intellectual ingredients to that year
of reading existentialist writers like Camus and Sartre and sprinkled in regular doses of Woody Allen
movies and Kurt Vonnegut novels. If life is absurd, I thought, we might as well laugh about it.
My most serious efforts to find meaning or something transcendent to latch on to came every
Saturday night when I attended concerts of the Philadelphia Orchestra. Music, I thought, was the one
thing in life that was not absurd and had the greatest potential to satisfy. I kept hoping to find the
piece of music that would propel me into the realm of satisfaction, a moment that would sate my
spiritual hunger. But it never happened. Dvořák’s symphonies came the closest for me. But every
piece by every composer disappointed, if for no reason other than that it came to an end and the
concert was over.
My sophomore year picked up at the same taverns and concerts where my freshman year left off.
But on the night before the second semester of that year, a friend of mine died in a tragic accident
that left me desperately wondering if life had any meaning at all. I sat at my friend’s funeral and
achingly realized I needed answers that Camus, Woody, Kurt, Dvořák, and Heineken couldn’t
provide.
I began to read the New Testament—the very paperback version my friends back at home had
given me. (Up until that moment, I had not even cracked the front cover, but I did bring the book
from home to my college dorm room—every semester!) And I went to the university library and took
out Mere Christianity and read it in private places where no one could see me doing so. The gospel
according to Matthew convinced me intellectually that Jesus was the Messiah (not just a mere rabbi).
Lewis convinced me that Jesus was the one I was looking for.
What pulled it all together for me was Lewis’s chapter on hope, where he discussed the many
disappointments we experience in this life. We could try to overcome them by seeking other
experiences that finally satisfy, or we could give up and become hopeless cynics. But Lewis
articulated a third way to handle life’s disappointments, the way of hope. In ways I continue to find
delightful, I read Lewis’s statement, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world
can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”20
Now, here’s a piece of my conversion puzzle I have only recently come to remember. Do you
recall the guy I mentioned in chapter 2, the one who handed me a Christian magazine when I pumped
gas into his car? At the time, that event may have seemed inconsequential. Now, I wonder if it may
have been the most crucial. I took that magazine inside the gas station and, for hours, read every
word. I believe it was on that day that I understood the logic of the gospel, the need for atonement,
the incomplete nature of the law, and the call for an individual response of repentance and faith. I did
not become a Christian until several years later, after reading Matthew and Lewis. But on that day at
the gas station, my intellectual wrestling through some unknown person’s Jesus magazine played a
key role in my conversion.
Did that gas customer pray for me after giving me the magazine? I don’t know. It’s quite likely
that the kind of Christian who traveled around with gospel literature to distribute also prayed for God
to use his efforts in eternally significant ways. Did the Christians at that church youth group pray for
my salvation? I’ve since reconnected with some of them who have assured me that they most
certainly did. Did intercessory prayer pave the way for repentant faith? God assures us in his Word
that “the prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective” (James 5:16).
I return to a question I have raised before. Is anyone really an “unlikely convert”? Was I? In one
sense, we are all impossible converts—lost people, “dead in [our] transgressions and sins” (Eph. 2:1).
But in another sense, no one’s conversion is unlikely. Jesus’s answer to his astonished disciples’
question, “Who then can be saved?” was, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are
possible” (Matt. 19:25–26).
Let us, then, “devote [ourselves] to prayer, being watchful and thankful” (Col. 4:2). Who knows
what God will do? Who can predict what we will see? And who can imagine how thankful we’ll be
for all eternity!
BRAINSTORMS: PRAYING FOR PEOPLE
IT’s good to have a list of nonbelievers you’re praying for. It’s a joy to move them from the list
of “praying for salvation” to the list of “praying for spiritual growth.” In the meantime, here are some
ways to ask god for more than just, “lord, save them!”
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Father in heaven, please open the eyes of my friend. Help her see what she cannot see yet.
Help her understand things she can’t seem to grasp. Remove the blinders so she can
embrace you.
Lord of the harvest, please make my friend dissatisfied with his life as it is right now.
Give him a profound sense of unrest because he has not found his rest in you. Drive him
to his knees as he sees the emptiness of life without you.
Lord Jesus, may the reality of your death on the cross break through to my friend. Help
her to receive what you’ve done as payment for sin. May the cross no longer be a
stumbling block for her. Soften her heart.
Oh Lord, my Shepherd, I’m weary of praying for my relative. It seems like nothing is
happening—except that he’s getting older. Help me to persevere in prayer. Remind me of
how patient you’ve been with me and how tireless people were when they prayed for me.
Almighty God, nothing is too difficult for you. My friend seems so angry and hardened
against you. I really don’t know what to say or how to get through to her. But that’s not
an obstacle for you. Please grant me wisdom in what to say and do, and grant her faith to
receive your salvation.
Discussion Questions
1. We read about revivals that sprung from prayer. Newman quotes scholar Edwin Orr, who says,
“The outpouring of the Spirit effects the reviving of the Church, the awakening of the masses, and
the movement of uninstructed peoples towards the Christian faith; the revived Church, by many or by
few, is moved to engage in evangelism, in teaching, and in social action.”
We know that prayer is important during times of revival, but Orr makes it seem as if revival
starts with reviving the church. He suggests that prayer serves to revive members, who are then
moved to evangelism, teaching, etc. What do we think about that?
2. In the brainstorming section, Newman gives samples of praying for hardened non-Christian
friends and family members. It takes perseverance and commitment to pray for someone long-term,
and we are obviously limited in how many people we can pray for. How do you determine who you
should pray for long-term?
Ole Hallesby, Prayer
What Prayer Is
Jesus said, “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the
door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.” —REVELATION 3:20.
I DOUBT that I know of a passage in the whole Bible which throws greater light upon prayer
than this one does. It is, it seems to me, the key which opens the door into the holy and blessed
realm of prayer.
To pray is to let Jesus come into our hearts.
This teaches us, in the first place, that it is not our prayer which moves the Lord Jesus. It is
Jesus who moves us to pray. He knocks. Thereby He makes known His desire to come in to us.
Our prayers are always a result of Jesus’ knocking at our hearts’ doors.
This throws new light upon the old prophetic passages:
“Before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear” (Isaiah 65:24).
Before we pray, God graciously makes known to us what gift He has decided to impart to us. He
knocks in order to move us by prayer to open the door and accept the gift which He has already
appointed for us.
From time immemorial prayer has been spoken of as the breath of the soul. And the figure is
an excellent one indeed.
The air which our body requires envelops us on every hand. The air of itself seeks to enter
our bodies and, for this reason, exerts pressure upon us. It is well known that it is more difficult
to hold one’s breath than it is to breathe. We need but exercise our organs of respiration, and air
will enter into our lungs and perform its life-giving function to the entire body.
The air which our souls need also envelops all of us at all times and on all sides. God is round
about us in Christ on every hand, with His many-sided and all-sufficient grace. All we need to do
is to open our hearts.
Prayer is the breath of the soul, the organ by which we receive Christ into our parched and
withered hearts. He says, “If anyone opens the door, I will come in to him.” Notice carefully
every word here. It is not our prayer which draws Jesus into our hearts. Nor is it our prayer
which moves Jesus to come in.
All He needs is access. He enters in of His own accord, because He desires to come in. And
He enters in wherever He is not denied admittance.
As air enters in quietly when we breathe, and does its normal work in our lungs, so Jesus
enters quietly into our hearts and does His blessed work there.
He calls it to “eat with us.” In Biblical language the common meal is symbolical of intimate
and joyous fellowship. This affords a new glimpse into the nature of prayer, showing us that God
has designed prayer as a means of intimate and joyous fellowship between God and humankind.
Notice how graciously prayer has been designed. To pray is nothing more involved than to let
Jesus into our needs. To pray is to give Jesus permission to employ His powers in the alleviation
of our distress. To pray is to let Jesus glorify His name in the midst of our needs.
The results of prayer are, therefore, not dependent upon the powers of the one who prays.
Our intense will, our fervent emotions, or our clear comprehension of what we are praying for
are not the reasons why our prayers will be heard and answered. No. Praise God that the results
of prayer are not dependent upon these things!
To pray is nothing more involved than to open the door, giving Jesus access to our needs and
permitting Him to exercise His own power in dealing with them.
He who gave us the privilege of prayer knows us very well. He knows our frame; He
remembers that we are dust. That is why He designed prayer in such a way that the most
impotent can make use of it. For to pray is to open the door to Jesus. And that requires no
strength. It is only a question of our wills. Will we give Jesus access to our needs? That is the
one great and fundamental question in connection with prayer.
When Israel had sinned against the Lord in the wilderness, He sent among them exceedingly
fiery serpents. In their distress the people humbled themselves and cried to God for mercy. And
the Lord had mercy upon His rebellious people. But He did not take away the serpents. What He
did was to tell Moses to raise up a serpent of brass in the midst of the camp, that all might see it.
And He ordained it so in His mercy that they who had been bitten by the serpents needed but to
turn and look to the serpent of brass, and they would be given the power which would heal them
from the death-dealing poison of the serpents’ bites.
This was indeed a gracious ordinance. By this all could be saved if they so willed.
If the Lord had ordained that those who had been bitten by the serpents must drag themselves
over to the serpent of brass and touch it, most of them would never have been saved, because the
poison took effect almost immediately, and those who had been poisoned were unable to walk
more than a few steps. All that was required of them was to turn their heads, look to the serpent
of brass, and they would be healed!
Just so has the Lord in mercy ordained help also for the serpent-bitten Israel of the New
Covenant: “And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of man be
lifted up; that whosoever believes may in him have eternal life” (John 3:14-15).
No matter in what distress we may be, distress of body or of soul, we need but look to Jesus
who is always near with that healing power which can immediately overcome the death-dealing
poison of sin and its terrible consequences both to body and soul.
To pray is nothing more involved than to lift the eye of prayer to the Savior who stands and
knocks. Indeed, he knocks through our very need, in order to gain access to our distress,
fellowship with us and glorify His name.
Let us think of patients who are ill with tuberculosis.
The physicians put them out in the sunlight and fresh air, both in summer and in winter.
There they lie until a cure is gradually effected by the rays of the sun. The recovery of these
patients is not dependent upon their thinking, in the sense of understanding the effect of the sun’s
rays or how these rays work. Neither does their recovery depend upon the feelings they
experience during the rest cure.
Nor does it depend upon their wills in the sense of exerting themselves to will to become
well.
On the contrary, the treatment is most successful if the patients lie very quietly and are
passive, exerting neither their intellects nor their wills. It is the sun which effects the cure. All the
patients need to do is to be in the sun.
Prayer is just as simple.
We are all saturated with the pernicious virus of sin; every one of us is a tubercular patient
doomed to die! But “the sun of righteousness with healing in its wings has arisen.” All that is
required of us, if we desire to be healed both for time and for eternity, is to let the Son of
righteousness reach us, and then to abide in the sunlight of His righteousness.
To pray is nothing more involved than to lie in the sunshine of His grace, to expose our
distress of body and soul to those healing rays which can in a wonderful way counteract and
render ineffective the bacteria of sin. To be a man or woman of prayer is to take this sun-cure, to
give Jesus, with His wonder-working power, access to our distress night and day.
To be a Christian is in truth to have gained a place in the sun!
Permit me to use still another illustration to show how simple the Lord has made prayer.
The man sick of the palsy, mentioned in the second chapter of Mark, had some very good
friends. They knew that Jesus could help him. So they carried him to the house where Jesus was.
But they could not get in because of the multitude. Undaunted, they lifted the sick man to the
roof, made a hole in it and lowered him to the very feet of Jesus.
There these good friends undoubtedly stood and waited for the authoritative word from Jesus
by which their sick friend would immediately become well. But, strange enough, no such word
was forthcoming from Jesus. Instead they heard these words spoken with authority: “Son, your
sins are forgiven!”
Another prayer had been crying louder to Jesus. It was the sick man’s plea for the forgiveness
of sins. And yet he had not spoken one word to Jesus. He was lying quietly on his bed. It is easy
for me to think that he lay there looking to Jesus, only looking to Jesus.
And Jesus heard the unuttered prayer for the forgiveness of sins which arose from the sick
man’s heart. And He answered this prayer first. Afterward He answered the other prayer also and
restored the man to physical health.
Helplessness
This helps us to get a little deeper insight into the secret of prayer.
Prayer is something deeper than words. It is present in the soul before it has been formulated
in words. And it abides in the soul after the last words of prayer have passed over our lips.
Prayer is an attitude of our hearts, an attitude of mind. Prayer is a definite attitude of our
hearts toward God, an attitude which He in heaven immediately recognizes as prayer, as an
appeal to His heart. Whether it takes the form of words or not, does not mean anything to God,
only to ourselves.
What is this spiritual condition? What is that attitude of heart which God recognizes as
prayer? I would mention two things.
In the first place, helplessness.
This is unquestionably the first and the surest indication of a praying heart. As far as I can
see, prayer has been ordained only for the helpless. It is the last resort of the helpless. Indeed, the
very last way out. We try everything before we finally resort to prayer.
This is not only true of us before our conversion. Prayer is our last resort also throughout our
whole Christian life. I know very well that we offer many and beautiful prayers, both privately
and publicly, without helplessness as the impelling power. But I am not at all positive that this is
prayer.
Prayer and helplessness are inseparable. Only those who are helpless can truly pray.
Listen to this, you who are often so helpless that you do not know what to do. At times you
do not even know how to pray. Your mind seems full of sin and impurity. Your mind is
preoccupied with what the Bible calls the world. God and eternal and holy things seem so distant
and foreign to you that you feel that you add sin to sin by desiring to approach God in such a
state of mind. Now and then you must ask yourself the question, “Do I really desire to be set free
from the lukewarmness of my heart and my worldly life? Is not my Christian life always
lukewarm and halfhearted for the simple reason that deep down in my heart I desire it that way?”
Thus honest souls struggle against the dishonesty of their own being. They feel themselves so
helplessly lost that their prayers freeze on their very lips.
Listen, my friend! Your helplessness is your best prayer. It calls from your heart to the heart
of God with greater effect than all your uttered pleas. He hears it from the very moment that you
are seized with helplessness, and He becomes actively engaged at once in hearing and answering
the prayer of your helplessness. He hears today as He heard the helpless and wordless prayer of
the man sick with the palsy.
If you are a mother, you will understand very readily this phase of prayer.
Your infant children cannot formulate in words a single petition to you. Yet the little ones
pray the best way they know how. All they can do is cry, but you understand very well their
pleading.
Moreover, the little ones need not even cry. All YOU need to do is to see them in all their
helpless dependence upon you, and a prayer touches your mother-heart, a prayer which is
stronger than the loudest cry.
He who is the Father of all that is called mother and all that is called child in heaven and on
earth deals with us in the same way. Our helplessness is one continuous appeal to His fatherheart. He is forever occupied with hearing this prayer of ours and satisfying all our needs. Night
and day He is active in so doing, although we as a rule do not even notice it, not to speak of
thanking Him for it.
If you are a mother, you will understand this, too, better than the rest of us. You care for your
little ones night and day, even though they do not understand what you are doing, sacrificing and
suffering for them. They do not thank you, and often they are even contrary, causing you not a
little difficulty. But you do not let that hinder you. You hear and answer incessantly the prayer
which their helplessness sends up to your mother-heart.
Such is God.
Only that He does perfectly what human love can only do imperfectly. As a true mother
dedicates her life to the care of her children, so the eternal God in His infinite mercy has
dedicated Himself eternally to the care of His frail and erring children.
Thus God deals with us all.
Also with you, my unconverted reader. Most likely you think that God does not love you. At
times you even think that He pays no attention to you whatsoever. At other times again you feel
as though God is pursuing you with vengeance and retaliation, as though He were seeking to
upset your plans and destroy your happiness.
Listen, and I will tell you what God is like: “He makes his sun to rise on the evil and on the
good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust” (Matthew 5:45). Christ spent His last strength
and His last moments in prayer for His enemies. “Father, forgive them; for they know not what
they do” (Luke 23:34). When Jesus returned to Jerusalem for the last time and had no further
means of saving the ungodly and rebellious city, He stood on the Mount of Olives and wept for
the city. His prophetic eye saw the terrible doom which would befall the city and from which
there was no escape.
Such is God.
He loves His enemies. When He sees the distress of the ungodly, their empty joys and their
real sorrows, their disappointments, their sufferings and their anxieties as they are irresistibly
swept along by the stream of time toward the everlasting anguish of hell, their distress and
helplessness cry to His heart. And He hears their cry and stoops down to helpless mortals in
order to help them.
The unconverted accepts His help when it pertains to temporal things. But as soon as God
offers spiritual help the helpless person turns away and often flees from God in great terror. Such
a person refuses to be converted!
Prayer is for the helpless.
Behold sinners who no longer flee from God. They stand in the light of heaven. More or less
gradually they begin to see their former sins, the boundless depths of impurity in their heart, their
impenitent coolness, indifference and rebelliousness toward God, their dislike of the Bible and of
prayer and the permanent desire of their weak will towards sin.
What do they do now?
Like everybody else they cry in their distress to God.
They cry more or less intensely, more or less often, more or less regularly. But they receive
no answer from God. They feel that they are forsaken, that they are like someone being driven
along on an upturned keel out on the open, raging sea. They cry with all their strength. They
cannot stop even though not a soul can hear them.
Then these helpless souls say to themselves, “God does not answer me because I do not pray
right. Can my prayers really be called prayers? Are they anything but words, empty words? Do
they reach higher than the roof? If I do not put more holy zeal and more decided determination
into my prayers, they will not be prayers which God can hear.”
My helpless friend, your helplessness is the most powerful plea which rises up to the tender
father-heart of God. He has heard your prayer from the very first moment that you honestly cried
to Him in your need, and night and day He inclines His ear toward earth in order to ascertain if
there are any helpless mortals turning to Him in their distress.
Now listen again. It is not your prayer which moves God to save you. On the contrary, your
prayer is a result of the fact that Jesus has knocked at your heart’s door and told you that He
desires to gain access to your needs. You think that everything is closed to you because you
cannot pray. My friend, your helplessness is the very essence of prayer.
To pray is to open the door to Jesus and admit Him into your distress. Your helplessness is
the very thing which opens wide the door to Him and gives Him access to all your needs.
“But why doesn’t He answer me?” you ask perplexed.
He has answered your prayer.
He has entered into your life, through the door which you in your helplessness have opened
for Him. He is already dwelling in your heart. He is doing the good work within you.
As yet you have not really understood His answer. But in this respect you are like all the rest
of us who pray. We pray, and our prayers are answered; but we do not see the answer
immediately, often not until a long time afterward.
You have imagined that you would receive an answer from God according to your own
thinking, and that you would receive either peace, assurance or joy in your soul. Not receiving
these things, you thought that God had not answered you. Jesus has many things to tell us and
much to accomplish within us which we do not understand at the time. We are impatient and
think that He ought to do something else for us or say something else to us than what He does,
just as Peter did when Jesus washed the disciples’ feet (John 13;1-10). But Jesus does not permit
Himself to be disturbed by our impatience. He proceeds calmly, saying, “What I do you know
not now; but you shall understand hereafter” (John 13:7).
Do not be anxious because of your helplessness. Above all, do not let it prevent you from
praying. Helplessness is the real secret and the impelling power of prayer. You should therefore
rather try to thank God for the feeling of helplessness which He has given you. It is one of the
greatest gifts which God can impart to us. For it is only when we are helpless that we open our
hearts to Jesus and let Him help us in our distress, according to His grace and mercy.
From the heavenly perspective many things look different than they do here on earth. I think
that our prayers, too, look different when viewed from above.
There is, for instance, the prayer meeting. One after another prays. First they pray who are
accustomed to pray aloud in the presence of others. They pray well, and their prayers edify.
When they say, Amen, everybody acquiesces quietly in the fact that it was a good prayer.
But at the same prayer meeting there may also be another believing soul who would like very
much to lift his or her voice in prayer at the meeting. This individual feels a greater need,
perhaps, than any of the others. However, being not accustomed to it, the person does not
succeed very well in the effort. Thoughts become disconnected, and the speaker stumbles.
Finally the person becomes bewildered and even forgets to say, Amen. After the meeting the
speaker is so downcast because of the prayer offered and because of the condition of his or her
heart that he or she scarcely dares to look anyone in the face.
But I know that a new song of praise has already been sung by the saints in glory, rejoicing
because they have heard someone pray to God who in his or her helplessness did not know what
else to do. Such prayers make an impression in heaven.
Let me say one more word about helplessness in prayer.
It can be experienced in various ways. Especially may it result in widely varying reactions in
our emotional life. As a rule we will feel our helplessness most, it will make the deepest
impression upon our emotional life, in the beginning of our Christian life.
During the time when the Lord is making us humble of spirit and contrite of heart (Isaiah
57:15), when He is crushing our self-conceit and self-sufficiency, our emotional life will no
doubt be stirred most profoundly. Not because it is all so new and strange, but mostly because it
is so incomprehensible.
God is such that we cannot fully understand Him. He is so great that none of His creatures
can comprehend Him completely. No one can meet God without discovering that he or she can
not understand God fully.
As mentioned above, it does not take long before an awakened sinner realizes that some of
God’s ways are past finding out. “Why do I not receive peace, assurance and joy? Why does not
God help me out of the distress which I can no longer endure? Why does He let me sink into
eternal punishment when He sees how earnestly I desire to be saved? Why does He not answer
with a single word any of the distressing cries which arise from my soul?”
We can endure a great many things with a calm mind if we can see the reason for, or the
purpose of, our suffering. It is that which we cannot understand and which therefore seems
meaningless that irritates us and makes us rebellious more than anything else. For that reason no
aspect of God becomes a stumbling block to us more easily than His inscrutability. It reminds us
of the poignant words of Jesus, “Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me”
(Matthew 11:6).
For this reason no aspect of God breaks down our self-conceit and our self-sufficiency more
quickly than this. For the first time we come to a point where we do not know what to do. We are
unable to go back to our former life, and we cannot find the way to God. We have not learned as
yet to surrender to a God whose ways are past finding out. As a result our whole being is in a
state of rebelliousness. That which is incomprehensible always fills us with paralyzing fear.
All of us who continue in this fear and do not flee from God or our own conscience, and who
wait in the presence of the inscrutable God, experience a miracle, God breaks down our selfconceit and self-sufficiency. Without knowing how, we helpless souls are drawn into the
fellowship of our incomprehensible God. God Himself in Christ enables us to humble ourselves
beneath the inscrutability of God, to endure it, and to rely upon and rest in the God whose way
we cannot fully understand.
Thereby a thing of decisive importance has taken place in the lives of us sinners.
We have become reconciled not only to the inscrutability of God but also to our own
helplessness. While up to this time this has put our whole being into a state of rebelliousness and
anxiety, now we have experienced the fact that helplessness is a sinner’s proper plea in the
presence of God.
Not by reflection, but by the certainty of experience, we know now that an infant is no more
helpless in its relation to its mother than we are in our relation to God. At all points we are
equally helpless: whether it be in connection with the forgiveness of sins, the conquest of sin, the
new life in our souls, growth in grace or faithfulness in our daily life with God and other people.
Our helplessness now becomes a new factor in our prayer life.
Before, our helplessness was the storm center of our prayer life, either driving us to
supplicatory cries of distress, or stopping our mouths so effectively that we could not find a
single word with which to give utterance to our needs.
Our helplessness has now become the quiet, sustaining power of our prayer life. A humble
and contrite heart knows that it can merit nothing before God, and that all that is necessary is to
be reconciled to one’s helplessness and let our holy and almighty God care for us, just as an
infant surrenders itself to its mother’s care.
Prayer therefore consists simply in telling God day by day in what ways we feel that we are
helpless. We are moved to pray every time the Spirit of God, which is the spirit of prayer,
emphasizes anew to us our helplessness, and we realize how impotent we are by nature to
believe, to love, to hope, to serve, to sacrifice, to suffer, to read the Bible, to pray and to struggle
against our sinful desires.
It often happens that we slip out of this blessed attitude of helplessness before God. Our
former self-conceit and self-sufficiency reassert themselves. The result is that we fail again to
grasp the meaning of helplessness. Once more it fills us with anxiety and perplexity. Everything
becomes snarled again. We are not certain of the forgiveness of sins. The peace of God
disappears from our lives. Worldliness, slothfulness and lack of spiritual interest begin to choke
our spiritual lives. Sin gains the victory again in our daily lives, and an unwilling spirit works its
way into the service we render toward God.
This continues until God again can make us humble and contrite of heart and we again
become reconciled to being helpless sinners, who can do nothing but this one thing: to permit the
infinite God to have mercy on us, to love us and care for us. Then our helplessness reestablishes
us in our right relationship both to God and to others. Above all it restores us to the right attitude
in prayer.
Helplessness in prayer resembles in a striking way the condition of a person who is lame or
sick of the palsy. At first it is painful, almost unbearable, to be so helpless that we cannot hold a
spoon to our mouth or chase a fly from our face. It is easy to understand why persons thus
afflicted cannot experience this without strong inner revulsion and protest, at the same time as
they put forth the most intense efforts to use their limbs as before.
But notice these same persons after they have become resigned to their illness and reconciled
to their helplessness. They are just as helpless as they were before, but their helplessness no
longer causes them any pain or anxiety. It has become a part of them and has set its stamp upon
all their movements and all their attitudes.
Such persons must be helped in everything. It feels very humiliating. Notice, too, how this
humiliation has set its stamp upon them. When they quietly and humbly ask for help, they do so
as though they were apologizing for doing so. Notice, too, how grateful they are for the least bit
of assistance that they receive.
All their thinking and all their planning have been conditioned by their helplessness. They
are, of course, dependent in all things upon those who care for them. We notice, too, that this
feeling of dependence develops into a peculiar bond of sympathy between the afflicted person
and the caretaker, the strongest bond by which human beings can become attached to one
another.
Thus our helplessness should make us attached to God and make us more strongly dependent
upon Him than words can describe. Recall to mind the words of Jesus, “Without me you can do
nothing” (John 15:5). In one single line He tells us here what it takes us a whole lifetime to learn,
and even when we reach the portals of death we have not learned it fully.
I never grow weary of emphasizing our helplessness, for it is the decisive factor not only in
our prayer life, but in our whole relationship to God. As long as we are conscious of our
helplessness we will not be overtaken by any difficulty, disturbed by any distress or frightened
by any hindrance. We will expect nothing of ourselves and therefore bring all our difficulties and
hindrances to God in prayer. And this means to open the door to Him and to give God the
opportunity to help us in our helplessness by means of the miraculous powers which are at His
disposal.
Discussion Questions
1. What is your reaction to this chapter? What spoke to you?
2. Hallesby emphasizes the importance of helplessness in our prayers. But how does this fit
with the biblical teaching that we need to “labor” in prayer (Col. 4:12)?
What is the difference between being helpless and being passive when it comes to prayer?
3. How do you react to this quote from Hallesby? He writes, “The results of prayer are,
therefore, not dependent upon the powers of the one who prays. Our intense will, our fervent
emotions, or our clear comprehension of what we are praying for are not the reasons why our
prayers will be heard and answered… To pray is to open the door to Jesus. And that requires no
strength. It is only a question of our wills. Will we give Jesus access to our needs? That is the
one great and fundamental question in connection with prayer.”
4. How do you react to this quote from Hallesby? He writes, “Try to thank God for the
feeling of helplessness which He has given you. It is one of the greatest gifts which God can
impart to us. For it is only when we are helpless that we open our hearts to Jesus and let Him
help us in our distress, according to His grace and mercy… Prayer therefore consists simply in
telling God day by day in what ways we feel that we are helpless.”
Rick Warren, Purpose Driven Life
BECOMING BEST FRIENDS WITH GOD
Since we were restored to friendship with God by the death of his Son while we were still his
enemies, we will certainly be delivered from eternal punishment by his life. ROMANS 5:10
(NLT)
GOD WANTS TO BE YOUR BEST FRIEND.
Your relationship to God has many different aspects: God is your Creator and Maker, Lord and
Master, Judge, Redeemer, Father, Savior, and much more. 1 But the most shocking truth is this:
Almighty God yearns to be your Friend!
In Eden we see God’s ideal relationship with us: Adam and Eve enjoyed an intimate friendship
with God. There were no rituals, ceremonies, or religion — just a simple loving relationship between
God and the people he created. Unhindered by guilt or fear, Adam and Eve delighted in God, and he
delighted in them.
We were made to live in God’s continual presence, but after the Fall, that ideal relationship was
lost. Only a few people in Old Testament times had the privilege of friendship with God. Moses and
Abraham were called “friends of God,” David was called “a man after [God’s] own heart,” and Job,
Enoch, and Noah had intimate friendships with God. But fear of God, not friendship, was more
common in the Old Testament.
Then Jesus changed the situation. When he paid for our sins on the cross, the veil in the temple
that symbolized our separation from God was split from top to bottom, indicating that direct access to
God was once again available.
Unlike the Old Testament priests who had to spend hours preparing to meet him, we can now
approach God anytime. The Bible says, “Now we can rejoice in our wonderful new relationship with
God — all because of what our Lord Jesus Christ has done for us in making us friends of God.”
Friendship with God is possible only because of the grace of God and the sacrifice of Jesus. “All
this is done by God, who through Christ changed us from enemies into his friends.” The old hymn
says, “What a friend we have in Jesus,” but actually, God invites us to enjoy friendship and
fellowship with all three persons of the Trinity: our Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Jesus said, “I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business.
Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known
to you.” The word for friend in this verse does not mean a casual acquaintance but a close, trusted
relationship. The same word is used to refer to the best man at a wedding and a king’s inner circle of
intimate, trusted friends. In royal courts, servants must keep their distance from the king, but the
inner circle of trusted friends enjoy close contact, direct access, and confidential information.
That God would want me for a close friend is hard to understand, but the Bible says, “He is a
God who is passionate about his relationship with you.”
God deeply desires that we know him intimately. In fact, he planned the universe and
orchestrated history, including the details of our lives, so that we could become his friends. The Bible
says, “He made the entire human race and made the earth hospitable, with plenty of time and space
for living so we could seek after God, and not just grope around in the dark but actually find him.”
Knowing and loving God is our greatest privilege, and being known and loved is God’s greatest
pleasure. God says, “If any want to boast, they should boast that they know and understand me. . . .
These are the things that please me.”
It’s difficult to imagine how an intimate friendship is possible between an omnipotent, invisible,
perfect God and a finite, sinful human being. It’s easier to understand a Master-servant relationship
or a Creator-creation relationship or even Father-child. But what does it mean when God wants me as
a friend? By looking at the lives of God’s friends in the Bible, we learn six secrets of friendship with
God. We will look at two secrets in this chapter and four more in the next.
Through constant conversation. You will never grow a close relationship with God by just
attending church once a week or even having a daily quiet time. Friendship with God is built by
sharing all your life experiences with him.
Knowing and loving God is our greatest privilege,
and being known and loved is God’s greatest
pleasure.
Of course, it is important to establish the habit of a daily devotional time with God, 13 but he wants
more than an appointment in your schedule. He wants to be included in every activity, every
conversation, every problem, and even every thought. You can carry on a continuous, open-ended
conversation with him throughout your day, talking with him about whatever you are doing or
thinking at that moment. “Praying without ceasing” 14 means conversing with God while shopping,
driving, working, or performing any other everyday tasks.
A common misconception is that “spending time with God” means being alone with him. Of
course, as Jesus modeled, you need time alone with God, but that is only a fraction of your waking
hours. Everything you do can be “spending time with God” if he is invited to be a part of it and you
stay aware of his presence.
The classic book on learning how to develop a constant conversation with God is Practicing the
Presence of God. It was written in the seventeenth century by Brother Lawrence, a humble cook in a
French monastery. Brother Lawrence was able to turn even the most commonplace and menial tasks,
like preparing meals and washing dishes, into acts of praise and communion with God. The key to
friendship with God, he said, is not changing what you do, but changing your attitude toward what
you do. What you normally do for yourself you begin doing for God, whether it is eating, bathing,
working, relaxing, or taking out the trash.
Today we often feel we must “get away” from our daily routine in order to worship God, but that
is only because we haven’t learned to practice his presence all the time. Brother Lawrence found it
easy to worship God through the common tasks of life; he didn’t have to go away for special spiritual
retreats.
This is God’s ideal. In Eden, worship was not an event to attend, but a perpetual attitude; Adam
and Eve were in constant communion with God. Because God is with you all the time, no place is
any closer to God than the place where you are right now. The Bible says, “He rules everything and
is everywhere and is in everything.” 15
Another of Brother Lawrence’s helpful ideas was to pray shorter conversational prayers
continually through the day rather than trying to pray long sessions of complex prayers. To maintain
focus and counteract wandering thoughts, he said, “I do not advise you to use a great multiplicity of
words in prayer, since long discourses are often the occasions for wandering.” 16 In an age of attention
deficit, this 350-year-old suggestion to keep it simple seems to be particularly relevant.
The Bible tells us to “pray all the time.” 17 How is it possible to do this? One way is to use
“breath prayers” throughout the day, as many Christians have done for centuries. You choose a brief
sentence or a simple phrase that can be repeated to Jesus in one breath: “You are with me.” “I receive
your grace.” “I’m depending on you.” “I want to know you.” “I belong to you.” “Help me trust you.”
You can also use a short phrase of Scripture: “For me to live is Christ.” “You will never leave me.”
“You are my God.” Pray it as often as possible so it is rooted deep in your heart. Just be sure that
your motive is to honor God, not control him.
Everything you do can be “spending time with God”
if he is invited to be a part of it and you stay aware
of his presence.
Practicing the presence of God is a skill, a habit you can develop. Just as musicians practice
scales every day in order to play beautiful music with ease, you must force yourself to think about
God at different times in your day. You must train your mind to remember God.
At first you will need to create reminders to regularly bring your thoughts back to the awareness
that God is with you in that moment. Begin by placing visual reminders around you. You might post
little notes that say, “God is with me and for me right now!” Benedictine monks use the hourly
chimes of a clock to remind them to pause and pray “the hour prayer.” If you have a watch or cell
phone with an alarm, you could do the same. Sometimes you will sense God’s presence; other times
you won’t.
If you are seeking an experience of his presence through all of this, you have missed the point.
We don’t praise God to feel good, but to do good. Your goal is not a feeling, but a continual
awareness of the reality that God is always present. That is the lifestyle of worship.
Through continual meditation. A second way to establish a friendship with God is by thinking
about his Word throughout your day. This is called meditation, and the Bible repeatedly urges us to
meditate on who God is, what he has done, and what he has said. 18
It is impossible to be God’s friend apart from knowing what he says. You can’t love God unless
you know him, and you can’t know him without knowing his Word. The Bible says God “revealed
himself to Samuel through his word.” 19 God still uses that method today.
While you cannot spend all day studying the Bible, you can think about it throughout the day,
recalling verses you have read or memorized and mulling them over in your mind.
Meditation is often misunderstood as some difficult, mysterious ritual practiced by isolated
monks and mystics. But meditation is simply focused thinking — a skill anyone can learn and use
anywhere.
When you think about a problem over and over in your mind, that’s called worry. When you
think about God’s Word over and over in your mind, that’s meditation. If you know how to worry,
you already know how to meditate! You just need to switch your attention from your problems to
Bible verses. The more you meditate on God’s Word, the less you will have to worry about.
The reason God considered Job and David his close friends was that they valued his Word above
everything else, and they thought about it continually throughout the day. Job admitted, “I have
treasured the words of his mouth more than my daily bread.” 20 David said, “Oh, how I love your
law! I meditate on it all day long.” 21 “They are constantly in my thoughts. I cannot stop thinking
about them.” 22
Friends share secrets, and God will share his secrets with you if you develop the habit of thinking
about his Word throughout the day. God told Abraham his secrets, and he did the same with Daniel,
Paul, the disciples, and other friends. 23
When you read your Bible or hear a sermon, don’t just forget it and walk away. Develop the
practice of reviewing the truth in your mind, thinking about it over and over. The more time you
spend reviewing what God has said, the more you will understand the “secrets” of this life that most
people miss. The Bible says, “Friendship with God is reserved for those who reverence him. With
them alone he shares the secrets of his promises.” 24
In the next chapter we will see four more secrets of cultivating a friendship with God, but don’t
wait until tomorrow. Start today by practicing constant conversation with God and continual
meditation on his Word. Prayer lets you speak to God; meditation lets God speak to you. Both are
essential to becoming a friend of God.
DEVELOPING YOUR FRIENDSHIP WITH GOD
He offers his friendship to the godly.
PROVERBS 3:32 (NLT)
Draw close to God, and God will draw close to you.
JAMES 4:8 (NLT)
YOU ARE AS CLOSE TO GOD AS YOU CHOOSE TO BE.
Like any friendship, you must work at developing your friendship with God. It won’t happen
by accident. It takes desire, time, and energy. If you want a deeper, more intimate connection
with God you must learn to honestly share your feelings with him, trust him when he asks you to
do something, learn to care about what he cares about, and desire his friendship more than
anything else.
I must choose to be honest with God. The first building block of a deeper friendship with
God is complete honesty — about your faults and your feelings. God doesn’t expect you to be
perfect, but he does insist on complete honesty. None of God’s friends in the Bible were perfect.
If perfection was a requirement for friendship with God, we would never be able to be his
friends. Fortunately, because of God’s grace, Jesus is still the “ friend of sinners.”
In the Bible, the friends of God were honest about their feelings, often complaining, secondguessing, accusing, and arguing with their Creator. God, however, didn’t seem to be bothered by
this frankness; in fact, he encouraged it.
God allowed Abraham to question and challenge him over the destruction of the city of
Sodom. Abraham pestered God over what it would take to spare the city, negotiating God down
from fifty righteous people to only ten.
God also listened patiently to David’s many accusations of unfairness, betrayal, and
abandonment. God did not slay Jeremiah when he claimed that God had tricked him. Job was
allowed to vent his bitterness during his ordeal, and in the end, God defended Job for being
honest, and he rebuked Job’s friends for being inauthentic. God told them, “You haven’t been
honest either with me or about me — not the way my friend Job has. . . . My friend Job will now
pray for you and I will accept his prayer.”
In one startling example of frank friendship, God honestly expressed his total disgust with
Israel’s disobedience. He told Moses he would keep his promise to give the Israelites the
Promised Land, but he wasn’t going one step farther with them in the desert! God was fed up,
and he let Moses know exactly how he felt.
God doesn’t expect you to be perfect, but he does
insist on complete honesty.
Moses, speaking as a “friend” of God, responded with equal candor: “ ‘Look, you tell
me to lead this people but you don’t let me know whom you’re going to send with me. . . . If
I’m so special to you, let me in on your plans. . . . Don’t forget, this is YOUR people, your
responsibility. . . . If your presence doesn’t take the lead here, call this trip off right now!
How else will I know that you’re with me in this, with me and your people? Are you
traveling with us or not?. . .’ God said to Moses, ‘All right. Just as you say; this also I will do,
for I know you well and you are special to me.’ “
Can God handle that kind of frank, intense honesty from you? Absolutely! Genuine
friendship is built on disclosure. What may appear as audacity God views as authenticity. God
listens to the passionate words of his friends; he is bored with predictable, pious clichés. To be
God’s friend, you must be honest to God, sharing your true feeling, not what you think you ought
to feel or say.
It is likely that you need to confess some hidden anger and resentment at God for certain
areas of your life where you have felt cheated or disappointed. Until we mature enough to
understand that God uses everything for good in our lives, we harbor resentment toward God
over our appearance, background, unanswered prayers, past hurts, and other things we would
change if we were God. People often blame God for hurts caused by others. This creates what
William Backus calls “your hidden rift with God.”
Bitterness is the greatest barrier to friendship with
God.
Bitterness is the greatest barrier to friendship with God: Why would I want to be God’s friend
if he allowed this? The antidote, of course, is to realize that God always acts in your best interest,
even when it is painful and you don’t understand it. But releasing your resentment and revealing
your feeling is the first step to healing. As so many people in the Bible did, tell God exactly how
you feel.
To instruct us in candid honesty, God gave us the book of Psalms — a worship manual, full
of ranting, raving, doubts, fears, resentments, and deep passions combined with thanksgiving,
praise, and statements of faith. Every possible emotion is catalogued in the Psalms. When you
read the emotional confessions of David and others, realize this is how God wants you to
worship him — holding back nothing of what you feel. You can pray like David: “I pour out my
complaints before him and tell him all my troubles. For I am overwhelmed.”
It’s encouraging to know that all of God’s closest friends — Moses, David, Abraham, Job,
and others — had bouts with doubt. But instead of masking their misgivings with pious clichés,
they candidly voiced them openly and publicly. Expressing doubt is sometimes the first step
toward the next level of intimacy with God.
I must choose to obey God in faith. Every time you trust God’s wisdom and do whatever he
says, even when you don’t understand it, you deepen your friendship with God. We don’t
normally think of obedience as a characteristic of friendship; that’s reserved for relationships
with a parent or the boss or a superior officer, not a friend. However, Jesus made it clear that
obedience is a condition of intimacy with God. He said, “You are my friends if you do what I
command.”
In the last chapter I pointed out that the word Jesus used when he called us “friends” could
refer to the “friends of the king” in a royal court. While these close companions had special
privileges, they were still subject to the king and had to obey his commands. We are friends with
God, but we are not his equals. He is our loving leader, and we follow him.
We obey God, not out of duty or fear or compulsion, but because we love him and trust that
he knows what is best for us. We want to follow Christ out of gratitude for all he has done for us,
and the closer we follow him, the deeper our friendship becomes.
Unbelievers often think Christians obey out of obligation or guilt or fear of punishment,
but the opposite is true. Because we have been forgiven and set free, we obey out of love —
and our obedience brings great joy! Jesus said, “I have loved you even as the Father has
loved me. Remain in my love. When you obey me, you remain in my love, just as I obey my
Father and remain in his love. I have told you this so that you will be filled with my joy. Yes,
your joy will overflow!”
Notice that Jesus expects us to do only what he did with the Father. His relationship with his
Father is the model for our friendship with him. Jesus did whatever the Father asked him to do
— out of love.
True friendship isn’t passive; it acts. When Jesus asks us to love others, help the needy, share
our resources, keep our lives clean, offer forgiveness, and bring others to him, love motivates us
to obey immediately.
We are often challenged to do “great things” for God. Actually, God is more pleased when
we do small things for him out of loving obedience. They may be unnoticed by others, but God
notices them and considers them acts of worship.
Great opportunities may come once in a lifetime, but small opportunities surround us every
day. Even through such simple acts as telling the truth, being kind, and encouraging others, we
bring a smile to God’s face. God treasures simple acts of obedience more than our prayers,
praise, or offerings. The Bible tells us, “What pleases the LORD more: burnt offerings and
sacrifices or obedience to his voice? It is better to obey than to sacrifice.”
Jesus began his public ministry at age thirty by being baptized by John. At that event God
spoke from heaven: “This is my beloved Son, and I am fully pleased with him.” What had Jesus
been doing for thirty years that gave God so much pleasure? The Bible says nothing about those
hidden years except for a single phrase in Luke 2:51: “He went back to Nazareth with them, and
lived obediently with them” (MSG). Thirty years of pleasing God were summed up in two words:
“lived obediently”!
I must choose to value what God values. This is what friends do — they care about what is
important to the other person. The more you become God’s friend, the more you will care about
the things he cares about, grieve over the things he grieves over, and rejoice over the things that
bring pleasure to him.
Paul is the best example of this. God’s agenda was his agenda, and God’s passion was
his: “The thing that has me so upset is that I care about you so much — this is the passion of
God burning inside me!” David felt the same way: “Passion for your house burns within me,
so those who insult you are also insulting me.”
What does God care about most? The redemption of his people. He wants all his lost children
found! That’s the whole reason Jesus came to earth. The dearest thing to the heart of God is the
death of his Son. The second dearest thing is when his children share that news with others. To
be a friend of God, you must care about all the people around you whom God cares about.
Friends of God tell their friends about God.
The more you become God’s friend, the more you
will care about the things he cares about.
I must desire friendship with God more than anything else. The Psalms are filled with
examples of this desire. David passionately desired to know God above all else; he used
words like longing, yearning, thirsting, hungering. He craved God. He said, “The thing I seek
most of all is the privilege of meditating in his Temple, living in his presence every day of
my life, delighting in his incomparable perfections and glory.” 13 In another psalm he said,
“Your love means more than life to me.” 14
Jacob’s passion for God’s blessing on his life was so intense that he wrestled in the dirt all
night with God, saying, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” 15 The amazing part of that
story is that God, who is all powerful, let Jacob win! God isn’t offended when we “wrestle” with
him, because wrestling requires personal contact and brings us close to him! It is also a
passionate activity, and God loves it when we are passionate with him.
Paul was another man passionate for friendship with God. Nothing mattered more; it was the
first priority, total focus, and ultimate goal of his life. This is the reason God used Paul in such a
great way. The Amplified translation expresses the full force of Paul’s passion: “My determined
purpose is that I may know Him — that I may progressively become more deeply and intimately
acquainted with Him, perceiving and recognizing and understanding the wonders of His Person
more strongly and more clearly.” 16
The truth is — you are as close to God as you choose to be. Intimate friendship with God is a
choice, not an accident. You must intentionally seek it. Do you really want it — more than
anything? What is it worth to you? Is it worth giving up other things? Is it worth the effort of
developing the habits and skills required?
You may have been passionate about God in the past but you’ve lost that desire. That was the
problem of the Christians in Ephesus — they had left their first love. They did all the right
things, but out of duty, not love. If you have just been going through the motions spiritually,
don’t be surprised when God allows pain in your life.
Pain is the fuel of passion — it energizes us with an intensity to change that we don’t
normally possess. C. S. Lewis said, “Pain is God’s megaphone.” It is God’s way of arousing us
from spiritual lethargy. Your problems are not punishment; they are wake-up calls from a loving
God. God is not mad at you; he’s mad about you, and he will do whatever it takes to bring you
back into fellowship with him. But there is an easier way to reignite your passion for God: Start
asking God to give it to you, and keep on asking until you have it. Pray this throughout your day:
“Dear Jesus, more than anything else, I want to get to know you intimately.” God told the
captives in Babylon, “When you get serious about finding me and want it more than anything
else, I’ll make sure you won’t be disappointed.” 17
Your Most Important Relationship
There is nothing — absolutely nothing — more important than developing a friendship with
God. It’s a relationship that will last forever. Paul told Timothy, “Some of these people have
missed the most important thing in life — they don’t know God.”18 Have you been missing out on
the most important thing in life? You can do something about it starting now. Remember, it’s
your choice. You are as close to God as you choose to be.
Discussion Questions
1. Warren writes, “Bitterness is the greatest barrier to friendship with God.” Bitterness is
notoriously difficult to detect both in our relationship with people, let alone with God. What
dashboard warning lights will you see if you have unresolved bitterness toward God?
2. Meditation is increasingly difficult in a world filled with so much noise and distractions.
What are practical things you can do to meditate?
Chuck Smith, Effective Prayer Life
Prayer can be expressed in three basic forms: worship, petition, and intercession, with variations
within each form.
Worship
The first form of prayer is worship. It is a spontaneous result from the conscious awareness of
God. As I realize the greatness of God and His nearness to me and His love for me, I naturally
respond with deep, inner worship of Him. One day I watched a little gnat flying around. I was
amazed at how small it was, and yet so wonderfully designed. He was able to defy the laws of
gravity, suspending himself in the air and then darting around rapidly. I thought, “God you are so
wise in the design of even small forms of life.”
Worshipping God for His creative genius is a form of prayer - that consciousness of who He
is and what He has done inspires worship. When I recognize the wisdom and power of God, I
stand in awe of Him. Thanksgiving and praise arise spontaneously as I become conscious of the
goodness of God to me that I know I do not deserve.
Christians should engage in this form of communion and prayer constantly. We should
become more conscious of Him as He speaks to us through nature. We see His power in the
storm and lightning. We smell His loveliness in a rose. We see His design in a daisy. “In the
rustling grass, I hear Him pass, He speaks to me everywhere.” Sometimes we verbalize our
worship; often we don’t. It’s simply an overwhelming feeling within our hearts as God manifests
Himself to us in a thousand different ways. We just say, “Ohhh, God is so good!” We worship
Him and commune with Him in the recognition of His love and grace.
Petition
The second form of prayer is petition, that is in the narrow sense, as I bring my personal needs
before God and ask Him for the help that I need so desperately. Day by day I cry out to the Lord
for His wisdom, guidance, strength, and provision. There are some people who dismiss personal
petition prayer as selfish. They say that it’s wrong to pray for anything for yourself because you
ought to be thinking more of others.
[poem clip]
It is beautiful poetry that expresses truth. I should pray for others and be concerned with their
needs. Nevertheless, I must also be concerned in prayer with my own needs. Call it what you
want, but I have certain definite needs that must be met before I can be of benefit to others.
The Bible says, “Hardworking farmers should be the first to enjoy the fruit of their labor” (II
Timothy 2:6). In other words, you can’t give what you don’t have. Like measles, you can’t give
‘em unless you got ‘em. Therefore, I must first be a partaker of God’s grace, love, strength, and
power. Then, as I partake, I have something to share with others.
One of Jesus’ disciples said, “Lord, teach us to pray just as John also taught his
disciples.” 2And He said to them, ‘When you pray, say: Father, hallowed be Your name. Your
kingdom come” (Luke 11:1-2). The first part of the prayer is addressed to God - worshipping
God for what He is: “Father, hallowed be Your name.” Then comes the prayer for the kingdom
of God: “Your kingdom come.” We are to seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness.
The very next petition is “Give us day by day our daily bread and lead us not into temptation;
but deliver us from evil” (Luke 11:3-4). These are personal petitions for my own needs. I do
have needs, and God wants me to bring those needs before Him. There’s nothing wrong with
praying and asking God to supply my rent money or whatever else I might need.
Intercession
The third form of prayer, intercession, is the type of prayer that can be considered work.
Worshipping God is not work –that’s glorious! It’s spontaneous, beautiful communion and
fellowship with God. Petition isn’t too much work because I’m so interested in what I need that I
can become involved in it very easily. But when I begin to intercede, then I must labor.
Paul, in his closing remarks to the church at Colossae, makes mention of one of his fellow
laborers, Epaphras. “Epaphras, who is one of your number, a bondslave of Jesus Christ, sends
you his greetings, always laboring earnestly for you in his prayers” (Colossians 4:12). Here
prayer is described as work.
Through intercessory prayer I reach out beyond myself and pray, not for my own needs, but
for the needs of those around me. I pray for my family, friends, and neighbors who don’t yet
know Jesus Christ. I pray for the needs of those in the Body of Christ. I bring before God all the
various needs of others that have come to my attention.
It is during intercessory prayer that I become aware of what prayer actually is: a spiritual
battle.
The Battle
There’s a conflict taking place around us continually, a spiritual conflict. Invisible to our
physical eyes is the spirit world which is divided into two categories: the forces of good and the
forces of evil. These are in constant combat with one another and diametrically opposed to each
other. When I enter into intercessory prayer I step right into the battle and begin to fight in this
spiritual warfare.
Paul the apostle said, “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers,
against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of
wickedness in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12). Therefore, we’re to put on the whole armor
of God. Paul then goes on to list the armor of God that should clothe a Christian for battle.
For, the apostle said, the weapons of our warfare are not “flesh and blood,” because we’re
not in a physical battle. If we were, then we’d have worldly weapons. But because we’re in a
spiritual battle, the weapons and armor of our warfare must be spiritual. They have divine power
to pull down the strongholds of the enemy (II Corinthians 10:4).
Once you’re fully equipped with all this spiritual armor of Ephesians 6, what are you to do?
Just stand there? No! Get into the fight! How do you get into the fight? “With all prayer and
petition pray at all times in the Spirit, and with this in view, be on the alert with all perseverance
and petition for all the saints” (Ephesians 6:18). You’ve been girded for the battle - now go to it!
Battle Scenario
The scene of the spiritual conflict is right here on the earth. The purpose of the conflict is the
control of the earth and the individual lives upon it.
The earth rightfully belongs to Jesus Christ. He created it and gave it to man. But man
forfeited it to Satan. Jesus came and purchased it back for Himself. He redeemed us and the
world through His blood at Calvary. For a while as Jesus hung on the cross, Satan thought he
was the victor. But on the third day Jesus rose again, triumphing over death, hell, the grave, and
Satan.
John tells us in I John 3:8 that Jesus was manifested to destroy the works of the devil. This
He did through His death on the cross (Hebrews 2:14). He conquered Satan’s forces –spoiled the
principalities and powers that were against us, nailed them to His cross, triumphed over them,
and made an open display of His victory (Colossians 2:14,15). Though the world rightfully
belongs to Jesus Christ now, Satan seeks to maintain control and power over it by force. Much as
when God had rejected King Saul from reigning over Israel and had the prophet Samuel anoint
David in his stead, Saul, by force, tried to hold on to that which was no longer rightfully his, and
sought to drive David from the kingdom. So Satan seeks to hold on to that which is no longer
rightfully his.
Jesus Christ also has a method of winning the world, but not by force. Jesus seeks to draw
men to Himself and into His kingdom through love. Thus, the warfare continues in this world for
the control of lives. Satan applies tremendous force and pressure to keep people in his camp.
Jesus, wooing and drawing through gentle love, seeks to persuade men to submit their lives to
Him.
As you enter into intercessory prayer, you rush into the thick of the battle. It becomes work
because you’re engaged against the forces of darkness and hell. You’re going against the
enemy’s strongholds with prayer. You witness the grip of power that Satan has on the lives of
those around you. Through prayer you can advance with the battering ram and demolish the
strongholds the enemy has on those individual lives –freeing them from the power that holds
them captive.
This kind of prayer, the warfare praying in the Spirit, becomes real work. You begin to
understand what Paul meant when he said that Epaphras was “laboring earnestly” in prayer. But
it’s glorious to realize that prayer is the deciding factor in this spiritual warfare.
Satan is a very stubborn enemy and an obstinate fighter. He yields only what and when he
must. Therefore, your prayers must be very specific. Vague, general prayers like “God, save the
world” won’t even dent the enemy. But when you bring before the Lord an individual life and
lay claim to that person for Jesus Christ, you begin to be specific in prayer, Satan must yield.
“Lord, my friend, John, is bound by the power of Satan. His life is being ruined and twisted. I
come against that work of Satan in the name of Jesus Christ and in the victory of the cross of
Jesus Christ. I ask you, Father, to free him from this power of Satan that’s holding him today.
Loose him now, that he may know the love of Jesus Christ. Lord, let your Spirit speak to his
heart and bring an end to the work of Satan that’s binding him, and blinding him.” We thus
recover them from the snare of the devil that is holding them as captives.
Realize that Satan is persistent. Even after you begin to see a bit of victory, you must
continue in prayer to hold the ground that you’ve gained. The minute you win ground, Satan will
turn right around and counterattack to regain it. Your prayers must be persistent. The ground we
have taken from the enemy through prayer, must be held by prayer. Many times we make a
serious mistake when we begin seeing signs of victory in the life of one for whom we have been
interceding. Maybe they have gone forward to receive Christ and have started to read their
Bibles, so we quit praying for them. Often the seed has not had a chance to take root yet and the
enemy comes to take away the seed. We need to continue to pray long after we begin to see
initial signs of victory.
The beautiful truth is that Satan has already been defeated. As we go into battle the outcome
has already been determined. Jesus triumphed over Satan and, thus, Satan must yield when we
come against him in the power and in the authority of Jesus Christ. Lay claim to the victory in
Jesus Christ - and life after life will be set free as you come against the strongholds of Satan and
tear them down with this powerful weapon of prayer!
God has made prayer available to the weakest of His children. It’s something that every
Christian can exercise, regardless of his spiritual state. You don’t have to be a spiritual giant to
get into spiritual warfare. And you don’t have to be afraid of the enemy as you enter in, because
he’s already been defeated.
Satan knows that prayer spells his defeat. He’ll fight you more to keep you from prayer than
any other thing you do. Sometimes, he even encourages you to other specific activities because
he knows how fruitless they are.
You’ll be amazed at the disturbances that come your way when you kneel down and start
praying. The telephone will ring. Or someone will be at the front door. Or you’ll suddenly
remember something you’ve been wanting to do. When I pray I usually take a notepad with me
so I can jot down those thoughts of the forgotten things that need attention. Otherwise I’m
tempted to get up and do them immediately. Satan will do anything to get you away from prayer.
Intercessory prayer is a real labor. It’s a real conflict in the battle against Satan. It’s the
deciding factor, and that’s why Satan fights it so hard.
Suppose that someone attacked you on a dark street and started wrestling with you. If he
were to pull a knife, the whole battle would suddenly be centered on one thing –control of the
knife. All of a sudden, you’d forget about punching him in the nose. You’d be grabbing for his
wrist and trying to knock that knife out of his hand for you realize that it is the deciding factor in
this battle.
Satan knows that prayer brings you victory and spells his defeat. He knows it’s the deciding
factor in this spiritual warfare. That’s why he concentrates all his efforts against prayer. He’ll do
all he can to upset your prayer time, and keep you from praying.
Persistence
If the answers to your prayers don’t come immediately, don’t give up! Paul speaks of Epaphras
“laboring earnestly” in prayer for the Colossians (Colossians 4:12). I don’t believe that Epaphras
said, “O Lord, bless the Church in Colossae, in Jesus’ name. Amen.” Rather, he waited upon
God, diligently sought after God for the welfare and the benefit of that church, and continued the
practice of prayer day after day. James 5:16 speaks of effective fervent prayer availing much.
Many times we give up a little bit too soon. Whenever Satan begins losing his grip he makes a
last, desperate lunge. This is when we all too often become tired and give up, quitting just short
of victory.
In his book, How to Win Friends and Influence People, Mr. Carnigie tells of a Mr. Darby, a
wealthy insurance broker from the East, was caught up with gold fever and headed out to
Colorado. He did some prospecting and discovered a very rich vein of gold in the Rockies. He
returned to the East and convinced all his friends to invest their money in a mining venture. They
formed a corporation, bought a great deal of equipment, and mined this very wealthy vein of
gold ore in Colorado.
About the time that the corporation paid off all its debts, the vein of gold ran out. The
investors kept digging until they ran themselves into debt again. Finally one day, a discouraged
Mr. Darby ordered an end to the digging. He closed the mine, went into Denver, and sold the
mine and equipment to a junk dealer for a few hundred dollars. Mr. Darby headed back home.
The junk dealer hired a geologist to study the mine and the area. The geologist came back
with a report: “If you’ll dig three feet past the point where Mr. Darby quit, you’ll find that same
vein of gold.” The junk dealer became the wealthiest mine owner in the state of Colorado. Just
three more feet! I wonder how many times we, too, stop three feet short of victory.
Claim The Promises
There are many fantastic promises given to us about prayer through Jesus Christ.
“Truly I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall have been bound in heaven; and whatever
you loose on earth shall have been loosed in heaven. Again I say to you, that if two of you agree
on earth about anything that they may ask, it shall be done for them by My Father who is in
heaven” (Matthew 18:18-19).
The number in prayer: any two of you. The place of prayer: on earth. The scope of prayer:
any thing. “It shall be done for them by My Father who is in heaven.” That is a broad and
glorious promise!
Jesus also promised:
“Have faith in God. Truly I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and cast
into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says is going to happen, it
will be granted him. Therefore I say to you, all things for which you pray and ask, believe that
you have received them, and they will be granted you” (Mark 11:22-24).
What a fantastic promise!
Also, Jesus said,
“Whatever you ask in My name, that will I do, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son.
If you ask Me anything in My name, I will do it” (John 14:13-14).
Any thing!
Another promise: “Truly, truly, I say to you, if you ask the Father for anything in My name,
He will give it to you. Until now you have asked for nothing in My name; ask [the Greek is
intensive- “please ask”] and you will receive, so that your joy may be made full” (John 16:2324).” Here the Lord is begging you to ask Him anything and He said He will do it.
These are extremely broad promises to prayer. But to whom were the promises made? Jesus
wasn’t talking here to the multitudes. In every case Jesus was talking to His disciples.
Who qualifies as a disciple? Jesus said, “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself,
and take up his cross, and follow me” (Matthew 16:24). A person who has denied himself, taken
up the cross, and is following Jesus Christ can take these promises and lay claim to them.
Anything he asks, desires, or wishes will be done.
But, by the very virtue of the fact that a disciple has denied himself, he is not seeking the
things that would glorify his flesh. The very fact that he’s taken up his cross, he’s not seeking his
own glory but reckoning himself to be dead with Christ. He is now identified only in the things
that God wants: committing himself, his ambitions, and his life totally to Jesus Christ. The true
thrust of prayer is always, “Nevertheless, not what I will, but Your will be done.”
Only by denying yourself, taking up your cross, and following Jesus Christ do you receive
access to the powerful promises of God regarding your prayers.
When The Answer Is No
The Lord may not give us what we ask when He has a higher purpose in mind for our lives.
Moses prayed that God would allow him to go into the Promised Land. God said, “No, Moses.
For the sake of the people you can’t go into the land. You misrepresented Me before those
people. Now they must learn the lesson of obedience.” Moses, that mighty spiritual giant who
communed face to face with God, wasn’t allowed to go into the Promised Land (Numbers 20:712).
Throughout the centuries since then, parents have told their children the story of Moses, the
man of God, who was used by God to deliver the children of Israel from Egypt and bring them to
their own land. They tell of Moses who went up into the mountain and received the law of God
in the midst of the fire and rolling thunder; whose face shone so that he had to cover himself with
a veil; who stretched forth the rod and the Red Sea parted. Then with whispered tones they
would say to their children, “But Moses could not go into the land because he disobeyed God.”
In order to teach the future generations of the nation of Israel the lesson of the importance of
complete obedience, God did not answer Moses’ prayer.
I think of Paul’s thorn in the flesh. He said, “Concerning this I implored the Lord three times
that it might leave me.” But God didn’t deliver him. Why? God had given Paul an abundance of
revelations, and that thorn in the flesh was necessary to keep him humbled. “Because of the
surpassing greatness of the revelations, for this reason, to keep me from exalting myself, there
was given me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me--to keep me from exalting
myself!” Paul said, “Therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of
Christ may dwell in me” (II Corinthians 12:7-10). Actually, Paul learned to rejoice over that
rotten thorn, because he experienced the mighty power of God as a result of the infirmity.
Consider the prayer of Jesus that wasn’t answered. Though He prayed three times - “Father,
if it be possible, let this cup pass from me” (Matthew 26:39) - He drank the cup. Why? Because
God wanted to bring salvation to each one of us. It should be noted that Jesus, though offering
His prayer to the Father, added what is so important to every prayer: “Nevertheless not my will,
but your will, be done” (Luke 22:42). That is the key to obedience and prayer. “Lord, here’s
what I want. Here’s my desire. Nevertheless, not my will, but Your will be done.” You can’t
improve on that! For the real purpose of prayer is never to get my will done, but His.
Ineffective Prayers
Many prayers are ineffective, they seemingly, produce nothing. They go up and yet they bring
nothing down. God does answer prayer. That’s the inspiration behind all prayer; for if God never
answered prayer, no one would be praying anymore. But why have so many prayers been offered
without achieving any results?
Certain things can actually hinder your prayers from being effective. First of all, if you
harbor sin within your life your prayers are hindered. Isaiah declared, “Behold, the LORD’S
hand is not so short That it cannot save; Nor is His ear so dull That it cannot hear. But your
iniquities have made a separation between you and your God, And your sins have hidden His
face from you so that He does not hear” (Isaiah 59:1-2).
So many times when my prayers aren’t answered I want to blame God. In reality, the fault is
mine. There’s sin at my door. David said that if I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord does not
hear me when I pray (Psalm 66:18).
Sin, as Isaiah said, breaks your connection with God. It’s like cutting the telephone cord. You
may dial the number all you want. You may speak in eloquent and very persuasive terms. Yet,
you’ve cut the cord. The message is simply going into the ground and not getting anywhere.
At that point prayer becomes deceptive. Many people say, “I know I’m not living as I should
be, but I still pray.” But their prayers are of no value. Their relationship with God has been
severed because of the sin within their lives. Their sins have made a separation between them
and their God.
Another cause for ineffective prayers is an unforgiving spirit. Jesus taught so much about
forgiveness. When He gave us the model prayer He emphasized one point at the end. If you
won’t forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father in heaven forgive you your
trespasses (Matthew 6:15). It’s important to forgive, for you cannot come to God harboring a
grudge against a brother without hindering your own prayers to God.
Ineffective prayers can also be a result of selfish motivation. James said, “You do not have,
because you do not ask” (James 4:2). It’s true that in many cases you just haven’t prayed. Many
times a person will pour out their horrible tale of woe to me. I’ll ask, “Have you prayed?” “Well,
no.” But that’s where you start! You have not because you ask not.
Then James went on to say, “You ask and you do not receive” - here comes the rub –
“because you ask with wrong motives, so that you may spend it on your pleasures” (James 4:3).
Behind so many prayers are selfish desires.
When I was in high school I prayed that God would give me a beautiful little 1936
customized Ford. Oh, how I lusted after that car! I told God all the good things I’d do for Him all the kids I would pick up for Sunday school - if He’d just give me that car. How could He
miss?
I didn’t get it, and I know why. God could see that in the back of my mind I was cruising
around the high school rapping those Smitty mufflers and getting the attention of all those goodlooking girls on campus. God knew that a customized ‘36 Ford would have puffed me up with
pride.
So He gave me a Model-A.
So many of our prayers are self-oriented. As I mentioned earlier, there are needs that I have
and God wants to supply them. I should pray for them, but I must be careful lest all my prayers
have only self as the underlying motive.
Helpful Hints
Here are a few rules for prayer that I have found to be effective. First of all, make the will of God
your prayer. How? Discover the will of God through the Word of God. God has declared to you
His will, purpose, and plan in the Bible. Give place to the Scriptures in your prayers. Too many
times prayer is only a monologue - and you’re doing all the talking. But that isn’t communion.
Communion is a dialogue, talking and listening while God speaks to you in His Word.
Tell God your needs and the needs of others around you. Express to Him what you see, what you
feel, and what you desire. Then turn to the Word, and God will speak to you. He’ll minister to
you and show you His will and plan for your life.
Then come again to Him: “Well, Lord, here it is in Your Word. I can see this is what You
desire so I claim it in the name of Jesus Christ.” Listen and learn to hear the voice of God as He
speaks to you by His Spirit. In Genesis 32 when Jacob heard that his brother Esau, who had
vowed to kill him, was coming to meet him with four hundred men, he feared for his life. He was
driven to pray and as he prayed he reminded God of His promise. He said, “O God of my father
Abraham and God of my father Isaac, O LORD, who said to me, ‘Return to your country and to
your relatives, and I will prosper you,” (Genesis 32:9). Jacob was praying on the basis of God’s
word to him.
Prayer is to be addressed to the Father, in the authority of the name of Jesus. Actually, you
have no right to an audience with God on your own. There’s no way you can earn such a
privilege. The only way you can have an audience with the Father is through Jesus Christ. Jesus
said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through Me”
(John 14:6).
Ask the Father for your needs, but ask Him in the name of Jesus Christ. It’s through Jesus
Christ that you have the right to come, that you have a hearing, and are received. When you
knock, use the name of Jesus. If I knock on His door and say, “Father, it’s Chuck here, wanting
to talk to you.”
He is apt to respond, “Who’s Chuck, what right do you have to knock on My door?”
But if when I knock I say, “Father, this is Chuck and I come in the name of Jesus.” The
response will be, “Come on in Chuck, good to hear from you.”
Use Your Weapons
More victories are wrought through prayer than any other means. It’s shocking that, though God
has given us such a powerful weapon, we are defeated again and again - The problem is, though
we possess the weapon we seldom use it.
As Christians, we’re so often trying to defend our weapons. For instance, when people argue
against the Bible, we begin to defend it. The Bible is a great weapon, a sharp two-edged sword.
Don’t defend it, use it! If you’re in a duel, you don’t say: “You had better watch out, this sword
has the sharpest steel in town. It’s been honed to a super-fine edge.” You don’t defend your
sword. You use your sword!
Likewise; we’re always talking about our weapon of prayer. Don’t talk about prayer. Pray.
Use the weapons that God has given you and triumph over the enemy!
Discussion Questions
1. Smith wrote, “Whenever Satan begins losing his grip he makes a last, desperate lunge.
This is when we all too often become tired and give up, quitting just short of victory.”
In what areas do we tend to give up in prayer? How does Satan persuade us to give up?
2. What does it look like to respond well when God’s answer to prayer is a “no”?
3. What implications does this chapter have for how we approach corporate prayer (i.e. HC
prayer meeting)?
Tim Keller, Prayer: Experiencing Awe & Intimacy With
God
For this reason, ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all
God’s people, I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. I keep
asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of
wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray that the eyes of your heart may
be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his
glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. –
Ephesians 1:15–19
The Supremacy of Prayer
A quick comparison of this prayer from Ephesians 1 with those in Philippians 1, Colossians
1, and later in Ephesians 3 reveals that this is how Paul customarily prayed for those he loved. At
the grammatical heart of Paul’s long sentence is a striking insight into the greatness and
importance of prayer. In verse 17 he writes: “I keep asking that . . . you may know him better.”
It is remarkable that in all of his writings Paul’s prayers for his friends contain no appeals for
changes in their circumstances. It is certain that they lived in the midst of many dangers and
hardships. They faced persecution, death from disease, oppression by powerful forces, and
separation from loved ones. Their existence was far less secure than ours is today. Yet in these
prayers you see not one petition for a better emperor, for protection from marauding armies, or
even for bread for the next meal. Paul does not pray for the goods we would usually have near
the top of our lists of requests.
Does that mean it would have been wrong to pray for such things? Not at all. As Paul knew,
Jesus himself invites us to ask for our “daily bread” and that God would “deliver us from evil.”
In 1 Timothy 2, Paul directs his readers to pray for peace, for good government, and for the
needs of the world. In his own prayers, then, Paul is not giving us a universal model for prayer in
the same way Jesus did. Rather, in them he reveals what he asked most frequently for his
friends—what he believed was the most important thing God could give them.
What is that? It is—to know him better. Paul explains this with color and detail. It means
having the “eyes of their hearts . . . enlightened” (Ephesians 1:18). Biblically, the heart is the
control center of the entire self. It is the repository of one’s core commitments, deepest loves,
and most foundational hopes that control our feeling, thinking, and behavior. To have the “eyes
of the heart enlightened” with a particular truth means to have it penetrate and grip us so deeply
that it changes the whole person. In other words, we may know that God is holy, but when our
hearts’ eyes are enlightened to that truth, then we not only understand it cognitively, but
emotionally we find God’s holiness wondrous and beautiful, and volitionally we avoid attitudes
and behavior that would displease or dishonor him. In Ephesians 3:18, Paul says he wants the
Spirit to give them “power . . . to grasp” all the past, present, and future benefits they received
when they believed in Christ. Of course, all Christians know about these benefits in their minds,
but the prayer is for something beyond that—it is to have a more vivid sense of the reality of
God’s presence and of shared life with him.
Paul sees this fuller knowledge of God as a more critical thing to receive than a change of
circumstances. Without this powerful sense of God’s reality, good circumstances can lead to
overconfidence and spiritual indifference. Who needs God, our hearts would conclude, when
matters seem to be so in hand? Then again, without this enlightened heart, bad circumstances can
lead to discouragement and despair, because the love of God would be an abstraction rather than
the infinitely consoling presence it should be. Therefore, knowing God better is what we must
have above all if we are to face life in any circumstances.
Paul’s main concern, then, is for their public and private prayer life. He believes that the
highest good is communion or fellowship with God. A rich, vibrant, consoling, hard-won prayer
life is the one good that makes it possible to receive all other kinds of goods rightly and
beneficially. He does not see prayer as merely a way to get things from God but as a way to get
more of God himself. Prayer is a striving to “take hold of God” (Is 64:7) the way in ancient times
people took hold of the cloak of a great man as they appealed to him, or the way in modern times
we embrace someone to show love.
By praying in this way, Paul was assuming the priority of the inner life with God.30 Most
contemporary people base their inner life on their outward circumstances. Their inner peace is
based on other people’s valuation of them, and on their social status, prosperity, and
performance. Christians do this as much as anyone. Paul is teaching that, for believers, it should
be the other way around. Otherwise we will be whiplashed by how things are going in the world.
If Christians do not base their lives on God’s steadfast love, then they will have “to accept as
success what others warrant to be so, and to take their happiness, even their own selves, at the
quotation of the day. They tremble, with reason, before their fate.”31
The Integrity of Prayer
If we give priority to the outer life, our inner life will be dark and scary. We will not know
what to do with solitude. We will be deeply uncomfortable with self-examination, and we will
have an increasingly short attention span for any kind of reflection. Even more seriously, our
lives will lack integrity. Outwardly, we will need to project confidence, spiritual and emotional
health and wholeness, while inwardly we may be filled with self-doubts, anxieties, self-pity, and
old grudges. Yet we won’t know how to go into the inner rooms of the heart, see clearly what is
there, and deal with it. In short, unless we put a priority on the inner life, we turn ourselves into
hypocrites. The seventeenth-century English theologian John Owen wrote a warning to popular
and successful ministers:
A minister may fill his pews, his communion roll, the mouths of the public, but what that
minister is on his knees in secret before God Almighty, that he is and no more.32
To discover the real you, look at what you spend time thinking about when no one is looking,
when nothing is forcing you to think about anything in particular. At such moments, do your
thoughts go toward God? You may want to be seen as a humble, unassuming person, but do you
take the initiative to confess your sins before God? You wish to be perceived as a positive,
cheerful person, but do you habitually thank God for everything you have and praise him for
who he is? You may speak a great deal about what a “blessing” your faith is and how you “just
really love the Lord,” but if you are prayerless—is that really true? If you aren’t joyful, humble,
and faithful in private before God, then what you want to appear to be on the outside won’t
match what you truly are.
Just prior to giving his disciples the Lord’s Prayer, Jesus offered some preliminary ideas,
including this one: “When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing
in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. . . . But when you pray, go into
your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen . . . in secret” (Matt 6:5–6).
The infallible test of spiritual integrity, Jesus says, is your private prayer life. Many people will
pray when they are required by cultural or social expectations, or perhaps by the anxiety caused
by troubling circumstances. Those with a genuinely lived relationship with God as Father,
however, will inwardly want to pray and therefore will pray even though nothing on the outside
is pressing them to do so. They pursue it even during times of spiritual dryness, when there is no
social or experiential payoff.
Giving priority to the inner life doesn’t mean an individualistic life. Knowing the God of the
Bible better can’t be achieved all by yourself. It entails the community of the church,
participation in corporate worship as well as private devotion, and instruction in the Bible as well
as silent meditation. At the heart of all the various ways of knowing God is both public and
private prayer.
A pastor and friend of mine, Jack Miller, once said he could tell a great deal about a person’s
relationship with God by listening to him or her pray. “You can tell if a man or woman is really
on speaking terms with God,” he said. My first response was to make a mental note never to pray
aloud near Jack again. I’ve had years to test out Jack’s thesis. It is quite possible to become
florid, theologically sound, and earnest in your public prayers without cultivating a rich, private
prayer life. You can’t manufacture the unmistakable note of reality that only comes from
speaking not toward God but with him. The depths of private prayer and public prayer grow
together.
The Hardness of Prayer
I can think of nothing great that is also easy. Prayer must be, then, one of the hardest things
in the world. To admit that prayer is very hard, however, can be encouraging. If you struggle
greatly in this, you are not alone.
The Still Hour, a classic book on prayer by nineteenth-century American theologian Austin
Phelps, starts with the chapter “Absence of God, in Prayer” and the verse from Job 23:3—”Oh
that I knew where I might find him!” Phelps’s book begins with the premise that “a
consciousness of the absence of God is one of the standing incidents of religious life. Even when
the forms of devotion are observed conscientiously, the sense of the presence of God, as an
invisible Friend, whose society is a joy, is by no means unintermittent.”33
Phelps goes on to explain the numerous reasons why there is such dryness in prayer and how
to endure through that sense of God’s unreality. The first thing we learn in attempting to pray is
our spiritual emptiness—and this lesson is crucial. We are so used to being empty that we do not
recognize the emptiness as such until we start to try to pray. We don’t feel it until we begin to
read what the Bible and others have said about the greatness and promise of prayer. Then we
finally begin to feel lonely and hungry. It’s an important first step to fellowship with God, but it
is a disorienting one.
When your prayer life finally begins to flourish, the effects can be remarkable. You may be
filled with self-pity, and be justifying resentment and anger. Then you sit down to pray and the
reorientation that comes before God’s face reveals the pettiness of your feelings in an instant. All
your self-justifying excuses fall to the ground in pieces. Or you may be filled with anxiety, and
during prayer you come to wonder what you were so worried about. You laugh at yourself and
thank God for who he is and what he’s done. It can be that dramatic. It is the bracing clarity of a
new perspective. Eventually, this can be the normal experience, but that is never how the prayer
life starts. In the beginning the feeling of poverty and absence usually dominates, but the best
guides for this phase urge us not to turn back but rather to endure and pray in a disciplined way,
until, as Packer and Nystrom say, we get through duty to delight.
We must beware of misunderstanding such phrases, however. Seasons of dryness can return
for a variety of causes. We don’t spend a discrete amount of time in dryness until we break
through permanently into joy and feeling. Instead, the vivid reorientation of mind, and the
overall sense of God on the heart, comes more frequently and sometimes in startling ways—
interspersed with times of struggle and even absence. Nevertheless, the pursuit of God in prayer
eventually bears fruit, because God seeks for us to worship him (John 4:23) and because prayer
is so infinitely rich and wondrous.
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How We Encounter: The Mediator
Jesus is the mediator between us and God (1 Tim 2:5; cf. Heb 8:6; 12:24). All ancient lands
and cultures had temples, because human beings once knew innately that there was a gap, a
yawning chasm, between us and the divine. God is great and we are small—God is perfect and
we are flawed. Temples were places where an effort was made to bridge that gap. Sacrifices and
offerings were made and rituals observed by professional “mediators” (priests) who sought to
bring the remote divinity near. All such efforts were understood to be partial and fragmentary.
No religion claimed that the gap could be closed. Aristotle, for example, said that while it might
be possible to venerate and appease the gods, actual intimate friendship with a god was
impossible. The philosopher reasoned that friendship requires that both parties share much in
common as equals. They must be alike. But since God is infinitely greater than human beings,
“the possibility of friendship ceases.”151
Now, however, we have the ultimate mediator and priest to end all priests (Heb 4:14–15). He
eliminates the gap so that we can know God as friend (cf. Ex 33:11). It is because the Son of God
was “made like them, fully human in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and
faithful high priest” (Heb 2:17). And because “we do not have a high priest who is unable to
sympathize with our weakness, but . . . has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet
without sin,” we are able to “approach God’s throne of grace with confidence” (Heb 4:15–16).
Here, then, is a claim that Aristotle—indeed, all the other philosophers and religious teachers of
the world—would find outrageous. How could God be our intimate friend? How could we
approach him with complete confidence? It is because God became like us, equally mortal and
subject to suffering and death. He did it so we could be forgiven and justified by faith apart from
our efforts and merits. That is why we can draw near.
Because in Jesus God became human, he is not only the God on the other side of the chasm,
he is the bridge over the gap. Thus he is the mediator of a new relationship with God that cannot
fail because it is based on his faithfulness, not ours (Heb 9:14–16).
Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the
blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and
since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart
and with the full assurance that faith brings. (Heb 10:19–22)
Prayer in Jesus’ Name
This leads us to an important related directive of the New Testament regarding Christian
prayer—Jesus taught his disciples that they must always pray in his name (John 14:13–14; 15:16;
16:23–24). “Prayers in his name are prayers . . . in recognition that the only approach to God . . .
the only way to God is Jesus himself.”152
This is essentially about qualification and access. I remember how as a student in graduate
school, I anxiously approached a well-known speaker after a lecture. He seemed distracted as he
greeted other students with perfunctory pleasantries. I, however, was able to mention that I knew
a friend of his. When I said the name, he immediately snapped to attention and spoke to me with
warmth and interest. I got this kind of access to him not in my own name but in the name of our
mutual friend. That is a very dim hint of how we have access to God the Father. Because we
know Jesus, because we are “in Christ,” God focuses his almighty love and attention on us when
we pray.
Paul’s version of this guidance from Jesus is found in his deeply Trinitarian formula for
prayer found in Ephesians 2:18: “Through him [Christ] we both have access to the Father by one
Spirit.” The word access was commonly used when an ancient king granted someone an
audience. No one could simply walk into the presence of a powerful monarch. The consequences
could be imprisonment or even death (cf. Esther 4:9–16). That, however, describes the power
differential only between an ancient oriental king and a commoner. The gulf between a holy God
and sinful human beings is infinitely greater (1 Sam 6:20; Ps 130:3; Na 1:6). No human being
can look upon God and live (Ex 33:20). Paul’s claim that we now have access to God’s very
presence “through him” is therefore quite astounding. We always have an audience because of
what Jesus Christ has done. His death on the cross reconciled us to God (Eph 2:16) and made
him our Father.
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The Importance of Thanks
Many people talk about “praise” and “thanksgiving” as being two kinds of prayer, and there
certainly are important distinctions that should be kept in mind so that we can be careful to do
each one. Ultimately, however, thanksgiving is a subcategory of praise. Thanksgiving is praising
God for what he has done, while “praise proper” is adoring God for who he is in himself. Psalm
135 calls us to praise the Lord, and Psalm 136 to give thanks, and yet close inspection shows
how the two tend to overlap. Psalm 135 praises God for having delivered Israel from slavery in
Egypt, and Psalm 136 thanks God for being loving and good. Thanksgiving for a blessing
automatically draws our mind toward the attributes and loving purposes of the God who has
done the blessing. Praise for God’s love and goodness transforms effortlessly into thanksgiving
for all the examples of his goodness in our life.
If we are going to make headway in the work of praise and thanksgiving, we need to know
what we are up against. Confession and repentance are often driven by circumstances. We fall or
fail and we are burdened with guilt and shame—so we pray fervently. Supplication and
intercession are also driven by circumstances. A friend or family member gets a diagnosis of
cancer, or our career looks like it is about to take a bad turn—so we pray fervently. In these cases
the prayers are fueled by the external circumstances and our sense of helplessness.
When good things happen to us, we would expect that they would provoke thanks and praise
in the same way that bad things cause petition and supplication. Yet that is not the case. In
Romans 1:18–21, Paul is describing the character of human sin. He writes: “For although they
knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him.” That sounds rather
anticlimactic. That’s the essence of sin—that we don’t “give thanks”? Is that such a big deal?
Yes, it is.
Think about plagiarism for a moment. Why is plagiarism taken so seriously? It is claiming
that you came up with an idea yourself when you did not. It is not acknowledging dependence,
that you got the idea from someone else. Plagiarism is a refusal to give thanks and give credit
and is, therefore, a form of theft. It not only wrongs the author of the idea—it also puts you in a
vulnerable position, because you are not capable of producing such ideas yourself in the future.
Do you see, then, why God takes this seriously? Cosmic ingratitude is living in the illusion
that you are spiritually self-sufficient. It is taking credit for something that was a gift. It is the
belief that you know best how to live, that you have the power and ability to keep your life on
the right path and protect yourself from danger. That is a delusion, and a dangerous one. We did
not create ourselves, and we can’t keep our lives going one second without his upholding power.
Yet we hate that knowledge, Paul says, and we repress it. We hate the idea that we are utterly
and completely dependent on God, because then we would be obligated to him and would not be
able to live as we wish. We would have to defer to the one who gives us everything.
Therefore, because the sin in our hearts makes us desperate to keep control of our lives and to
live the way we want, we cannot acknowledge the magnitude and scope of what we owe him.
We are never as thankful as we should be. When good things come to us, we do everything
possible to tell ourselves we accomplished that or at least deserve it. We take the credit. And
when our lives simply are going along pretty smoothly, without a lot of difficulties, we don’t live
in quiet, amazed, thankful consciousness of it. In the end, we not only rob God of the glory due
him, but the assumption that we are keeping our lives going robs us of the joy and relief that
constant gratitude to an all-powerful God brings.
We have a problem with thanks and praise, and yet praise is the alpha prayer—the one kind
of prayer that properly motivates, energizes, and shapes the others. What will we do about our
problem?
Discussion Questions
1. What did you think about Keller’s point that failing to give God thanks is a form of
plagiarism? Do you view this as a valuable way to frame ingratitude?
2. Let’s answer Keller’s question at the end of the reading: What are some practical steps
toward gratitude and praise?
3. Keller states, “The infallible test of spiritual integrity...is your private prayer life” and
quotes Jack Miller who says, “A minister may fill his pews...the mouths of the public, but what
that minister is on his knees in secret before God Almighty, that he is and no more.” What do
you think he meant by these statements?
4. Keller mentions “seasons of dryness” in his section on “The Hardness of Prayer.” What
does this look like in your life and what are some things that have helped you break out of them?