Posts Tagged ‘Holy Week’

Lord, Hear our Prayer.

Lord, Hear our Prayer

on earth as in heaven

In my study and prayer time this morning it came to me how little Jesus had to say about what happens to us after we die. He says a few things, but not a lot of things. And it also struck me how much Jesus had to say about how we live in this life. He said, “The Kingdom of Heaven has drawn near to you this day.” His teachings were all about living a life of heaven in this life…heaven’s economy, heaven’s ethics, heaven’s priorities. He prayed, “…on earth as it is in heaven.” His message was about God’s Kingdom at work in the world that we can participate in, and invite others to participate in with us. So…as I eat my “fat Tuesday” pancakes tonight (actually, no carbs for me right now ), I’m going to think on those words, “…on earth as it is in heaven”. Lord, hear our prayer…


In the Mind of John, the Mind of a Fisherman


In the Mind of John, the Mind of a Fisherman

Jesus said to us, “Anyone who has faith in me will also do the works that I do. And even greater works will they do because I am going to the Father.” And he said, “I will do whatever you ask as I would have asked it – in my name, so that the Son might bring glory to the Father. You can ask for anything as I would have asked it, and I will do it.” At least I am pretty sure that’s what he told us.  That’s what I remember, anyway.  I have been really sweating over these words.  I just didn’t understand them when he was with us two days ago in that upper room.  I thought it was the Seder…another Seder.  I didn’t realize he would be giving us his last will for us…that that would be the last time we’d break bread together.   If I did, I would have listened more closely.  I need to go back and remember what he said.  I need to write these things down before I forget.  I just didn’t see any of this coming.

(Entering into prayer) Teacher, I have seen you do amazing things…how could I NOT believe in you.  I am covered in your dust.  But, me?  Who am I? I’m…nobody.  I am just James’ little brother…I am just the son of Zebedee…not the Son of God. If it wasn’t for you, Jesus, I’d still be dragging nets with my dad.  “Whatever you ask as I would have asked it, I will do.”  You’re dead and gone from us. They murdered you.  And I ran away like a coward.  Look at me! I am still hiding. How am I supposed to do what you did?  You are the Messiah…and I?…I am just an out-of-work fisherman.

Jesus, I don’t know if you can hear me or not, But I DO believe in you.  I just don’t believe in me.  I saw you feed five thousand people with a mere arm-full of bread and a couple of fish.  I saw you stare down demons and chase them out of people…they ran from you like frightened children.  I tried that once. Remember? And I couldn’t do it.  You had to come and do it for us.  For Heaven’s sake, I saw you raise Lazarus out of the stink of death’s decay to life.  That alone left me speechless for a week.  You prayed to your Dad…to God…and then you just told him to come out.  You just said his name and commanded him, and he obeyed.  That’s impossible…and yet, I saw it with my own eyes.  So, are you saying that all I have to do is to go to a dead person, pray to God for this person to be raised, and then as you would say it – in your name, call them by name and command them to rise?  I have not seen that done before you did it.  And I cannot believe that I could ever do that.  I cannot…believe.  Has my lack of faith failed you?  What am I missing here? Oh, Lord Jesus, don’t let me fail you. I WANT to believe.  I want to believe more than anything in this world.

Maybe I’m not thinking about this the right way.  It wasn’t really you that raised Lazarus.  It was God.  So if I am to be obedient…to believe in you…I am to do what you did.  You prayed.  You knew Lazarus’ name and called him by it…not just after he died, but every day.  Lazarus was a nobody, and yet you knew him.  You knew his name.  You knew all of our names.  I saw you cry the day we came into his family’s gathering.  You knew him so well that you couldn’t help but weep at his passing.  It wasn’t a stranger you commanded to come out.  It was a man you knew like a brother and loved like a brother.  I might never see a person raised from the dead because I called them out of the crypt.  But I can love like that.  You taught me to.  I can get out among the nobodies and really know them. And I can pray for them. I can cry out to the Lord as you did on their behalf.  You taught me how to do that, too.

Maybe that’s what you mean.  Maybe that was the real miracle…that you cared enough about Lazarus to pray for him not just that day, but every day…that you loved him and let his pains and woes and joys into your heart…and you knew his name.  Okay, Jesus, if you can hear me, I will start there…just as you started there.  I will lay my hands on the sick.  I will love the least of these.  I will know the people that nobody cares enough to know.  I will ask you to heal them, to set them free, to raise them out of death.  I can do that.  And then the rest is up to God…right? The rest is up to God, just as it was always up to God when YOU did these things.  Maybe out of that tiny mustard of faith you can make something big grow.  Maybe…if you put your own Spirit inside of me…maybe then…maybe then.  Oh Lord, is that possible?  Well, we’ll see.