Light Lenten Reflections

Week 4

The Freedom of the Forgiven Forgiver

John was very, very angry with his brother.

Our prayer group was going through a book on forgiveness and had just finished looking at the chapter on forgiving those close to us. Because most of the books and studies we tackled in our group were just an excuse to open up areas we needed to pray about, it was not surprising that John* asked for prayer regarding the situation with his brother.

A few years earlier, after finishing a stint in the military, John's brother had disappeared. None of his siblings had heard from him, and, most troubling to John, his brother, the baby of the family, had not contacted their mother. She was sad and distraught over the long unexplained silence, worried that her youngest child might have come to serious harm. The longer the absence dragged on, the angrier John had become. He was angry at his brother for the pain he was causing their mother, seeing the brother as a thoughtless, immature child with no concern for the feelings of others. During our study on forgiveness, John was convicted of his anger and rotten attitude toward his youngest sibling. John asked for us to pray with him as he waded through the muck of his unforgiveness. As we gathered around John in prayer, he talked to God about his feelings for his brother, both good and bad. As he gave over all the negative feelings to God, asking God to forgive him, John then moved on to talking to God about forgiving little brother. By the end of the prayer time, John had a peace and lightness about him he hadn't felt for a long time. Good, we thought, John has truly received God's forgiveness for his attitude and has finally forgiven his brother. We all went home that night privileged to be witnesses to John's openness and determination to learn to forgive and be forgiven.

Well, as it happens with so many God-stories, this one wasn't over yet. When John returned to prayer group the following week, he was beyond excited. The day after John had prayed for God's forgiveness and the ability to forgive, little brother had called his mother. He told mom he had left the military wanting to find his own way in the world, apart from family. The longer he stayed away, the easier it was for him to remain detached. He had met a girl, married her and had a child. Could they all come home for a visit? Of course, mom-now-suddenly-grandmother said yes. Toward the end of the conversation, mom asked her prodigal why it had taken him so long to call, so long to contact anyone in the family. He acknowledged how much pain he must have inflicted on the family and then said, “I didn't think any of you would be able to forgive me.”

Forgiving and being forgiven, such a powerful twosome. When Jesus was teaching his disciples to pray, the forgiveness part of the Lord's Prayer reflects this duality. “...forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors...” - “...forgive us what we owe to you, as we have also forgiven those who owe anything to us...” - “...forgive us our sins, just as we have forgiven those who have sinned against us...” Choose your Bible translation, but each captures the “and” of being forgiven and forgiving. John had asked to be forgiven of his anger toward his brother. Receiving this gracious gift of God enabled him to forgive his brother. John's forgiveness of little brother, consciously unknown to him but spiritually communicated to him in ways that only God can fully explain, gave little brother the freedom to pick up the phone and call mom. Don't you love the efficiency of God's funny little ways? Two-for-one forgiveness freedom!

Something to think about: Look for any places of unforgiveness in your relationships. How easy is it for you to ask for forgiveness from others or from God? How easy is it for you to forgive others, or even, God, if necessary?

Something to talk (to God) about: If you have found any areas of unforgiveness in your relationships, talk to God about it. You may not be ready to forgive, but that's O.K. Just ask God to move the process along. You may see you are in a chronic pattern of forgiving with a person and feel like you have already exceeded the biblical 7 x 7 of forgiveness. Ask God for His heart for that person and the grace to persevere in the forgiveness process.

*Not his real name.

Light Lenten Reflections

Week 3

Honestly.....!!!

Many years ago I heard a story about a bitter, angry woman who had had a hard life and ignored God, a God she felt wasn’t much of a God at all. This feeling was confirmed when her daughter was seriously injured in a car accident and was in a coma. On the way home from the hospital one evening, she stopped into a bar and had a few too many drinks. As she was driving home, a thunderstorm made it impossible for her to see, and she pulled over to the side of the road to wait it out. Angry at the storm, angry about her daughter’s condition, fueled by the alcohol, she proceeded to curse and yell and scream at God and tell Him exactly what she thought of Him. When she had finally worn herself out, a quietness came over her and she heard the words “This is the first time you have ever talked to me - and I love you”.

I'm not sure where I heard the story – a Christian radio station, probably – and I don't know how true it is, though it does ring with the authenticity of someone's conversion experience, but there are two takeaways from this story that have served me well in my times of talking to God. First, the woman's story shows that God seems to credit very unprayerlike rantings as prayer, as long as they're honest rantings, directed toward Him. I had always believed this to be true, but, still, it was good to hear that someone else talked to God honestly in a less than pious manner. Like the woman in the car, I've had my moments when my talking to God seemed anything but holy, but it was honest and real and directed toward Him. There have been prayer times when I've been angry at God and told Him as much, pointing out how I would have done things much differently in a certain situation if I were God. At other points in my life, a real “just do it” prayer time may have resembled two people sitting across the room from one another, one not unlike a belligerent 15 year old, sulky, silent and slouching, and the other, God.

The second takeaway from the woman's story has to do with the wonderfully awesome combination of the immensity and the holiness of God. Yes, God is a holy God, one deserving of our honor and praise and worship and respect and awe, but He is also a big and mighty God who created us and knows us in all our brokenness and sinfulness and imperfections. In the times we approach Him in that brokenness, sinfulness and imperfection, He is big enough and mighty enough to handle it – graciously, lovingly, tenderly, with His signature mercy. The reason I feel the woman's story rings true is God's response to the woman's rantings - “This is the first time you have ever talked to me - and I love you”. He acknowledges her first real attempt at talking to Him, fraught with all its anger and honesty and brokenness, and still can speak out His love for her. And so it is with us. When we approach Him in a less than “holy” way, He acknowledges our focus on Him and loves us through it.

In his book Walking with God Through Pain and Suffering, Timothy Keller takes a close look at Job, the biblical model of undeserved suffering. Job doesn't always express his feelings in a spiritually noble way, but God is very affirming of Job. Keller says:

But why would God be so affirming of Job? Job cursed the day he was born, challenged God's wisdom, cried out and complained bitterly, expressed deep doubts. It didn't seem that Job was a paragon of steady faith throughout. Why would God vindicate him like that?' The first reason is that God is gracious and forgiving. But the crucial thing to notice is this: Through it all, Job never stopped praying. Yes, he complained, but he complained to God. He doubted, but he doubted to God. He screamed and yelled, but he did it in God's presence. No matter how much in agony he was, he continued to address God. He kept seeking him. And in the end, God said Job triumphed. How wonderful that our God sees the grief and anger and questioning, and is still willing to say “you triumphed” - not because it was all fine, not because Job's heart and motives were always right, but because Job's doggedness in seeking the face and presence of God meant that the suffering did not drive him away from God but toward him. And that made all the difference. As John Newton said, if we are not getting much out of going to God in prayer, we will certainly get nothing out of staying away.*

Job sounds not unlike the woman in the car, his talking to God brutally honest, but nevertheless, directed toward God. Job and the woman in the car share, along with us, the acknowledgment of a sovereign God, the One we perceive could/should do something about our messy, broken, painful lives and our messy, broken, painful world. When He doesn't act, or when we can't see His actions, often so different from our expectations, we can bring our confusion and frustration to Him, and He will love us through it all anyway. Really. Honestly...

Something to think about: How comfortable are you with being honest before God? Can you go to Him in the midst of your anger and confusion, or do you avoid Him and wait until you feel “holy” enough to talk to Him? Are there any issues in your life right now that you are avoiding bringing before God?

Something to talk (to God) about: Talk to God about any of those areas you may have been avoiding or that you feel anger about because God hasn't acted the way you had hoped. Ask for the grace to be wholely/holy honest in your talking to God. If you are already an honest talker to God, thank Him for the freedom and love He has given you in this area.

*If any of this sounds familiar, I've quoted this passage before in another blog post about how to whine to God: https://marynapier.blogspot.com/2020/03/lightlenten-reflections-week2.html I'll probably quote it again. It's definitely worth repeating.

Light Lenten Reflections

Week 2

Nike Praying – Just...Do...It

Confession: There are times I like the idea of being a praying person more than I like praying...

Prayer is not without its challenges, and spending time talking to the living God is not something the world, the flesh or the devil is eager to have me do. All three, at times, will conspire to keep me too busy, too tired or too distracted to pray as I would like. I've had to learn to not over think the time, place and specifications of what my talking to God looks like.

There is much written about setting aside time to be with God, to pray, to read the Bible, to “have devotions”. It is often recommended that one set apart some time in the early hours of the morning to spend talking to God, giving God the best part of your day. But if you are like me, those early morning hours may not be the best part of your day. I had to let go of the wisdom of the sages and talk to God about when to talk to God. When is the best time for me and you to get together, Lord? Where should I be when I talk to you? The answers to that question change with the different stages and places of my life. In my college days, I'd sit in the dark on my dorm room bed, silently worshipping, silently talking to God about my day, my room mate asleep in the next bed. In my night owl lifestyle, I was giving God the best part of my day. As a young mother, I spent nap times sitting on cinder blocks in the basement talking to God, while keeping an eye on a toddler through a small hole in the wall to the next room, listening for a napping infant two floors above through the heating duct. In that basement I was giving God my only “free” time of the day and, strangely (or not), He always seemed to multiply the little time I had to give. As a stay-at-home mom with kids in school, my time with God was mid-afternoon, just before they came in the door, just before the daily whirlwind of sports, activities, dinner, and homework began it's long journey toward bedtime. It may not have been the best or only part of my day, but it was the time I most needed to be “prayed up”, to have had sat with God and allowed Him to give me what I needed for the end of day in those years of active mothering.

Over the years I've adopted what I call the Nike attitude toward prayer – “Just do it.” There are times I'm overwhelmed with all I have to do, convincing myself I don't have the time to talk to God today, but I just do it. There are times when I feel the spiritual feng shui just isn't right among the undone housework to sit down and have a rational chat with God, but I make room amidst the clutter and just do it. And there are those times I like the idea of being a praying person more than I like praying, and I just don't feel like it at the moment, but I just do it.

I find in my retirement years having settled into a new time and place for my talking with God. Late afternoons are usually a good time to give to God now, mornings still not being the best part of my day. I sit in a sunroom surrounded by plants so the wrong spiritual feng shui is rarely an excuse. I find I have more time to spend with God than in the college, toddler or school age kids years. But I still have “just do it” days, just as those dorm room nights, basement nap times and end of school day pre-onslaught times all had their “just do it” days. I didn't always come to my time of talking with God with a perfect attitude, but I did come...well, most of the time...and I still come most of the time. The best part? No matter how or when I come, even on my “just do it” days, I find God already there...

Something to think about: What kind of struggles do you have with making time to talk with God? What are the things most likely to sidetrack you from having a consistent time of talking with God? What are some things you can choose for now, this stage of your life – a time, a place – that would facilitate a daily prayer time?

Something to talk (to God) about: Bring the answers to the above questions to God today. Tell Him about the struggles and the things that sidetrack you. Ask Him what He wants your prayer time to look like in this stage of your life. Spend some time in His presence quietly listening as well as talking to Him.

 

Light Lenten Reflections

Week 1

Talking to God

My earliest memories of praying take place at the foot of my mother's bed. It is here my brother and I would kneel at bedtime along with my mother and grandmother and say our prayers. It was at the foot of that bed I learned the Lord's prayer, the Hail Mary and an informal personalized family prayer that included asking God for specific things for individual family members. When Mom and Grandma would go out for the evening, it was left to Grandpa to supervise our nightly prayer time. Grandpa, who learned his formal prayers as a child in German, would let my brother and I lead the prayer time, asking us to pray the Lord's Prayer and the Hail Mary so he could learn it in English. We took this task very seriously, though, looking back, I think Grandpa did know his prayers in English and just didn't want to say them aloud, being a somewhat private pray-er.

We'd also said grace before meals, and sometimes grace after meals. When I started Sunday school as a first grader, I was viewed as a superstar because I came to class already knowing the trifecta of prayers that we would be learning that year – the Our Father, the Hail Mary and Grace before Meals. What more to praying was there? Already I knew prayer could be memorized words written by other people, prayers we made up ourselves to fit our family needs, prayer to bless our food before we ate it and thanks for food after we ate it. And thanks to Grandpa's reluctance to pray out loud, I knew prayer could be silent and private as well.

In second grade, as my class prepared to receive first communion, we were required to memorize 25 catechism questions, which we practiced reciting everyday in class. Sometimes the memorized questions opened up second-grade-level theological discussions that Sister Joan Bernadette did her best to moderate with a straight face. The subject of prayer must have come up for I remember her response to it being simple and firm and, for me, life-changing. “Prayer,” she said, “is just talking to God.”

Just talking to God...

I've experienced a lot of spiritual growth and adventures in various spiritual disciplines over the years, but I've never been able to get beyond the truth and simplicity of a second-grade teacher's explanation of what prayer is. After her pronouncement, I added talking to God to my growing list of what types of prayer I practiced. I still acquired “prayers” as was wont in the Catholic Church in the 1960s, laying in bed at night and saying the Act of Faith, Hope and Charity, the Act of Contrition and random other memorized prayers that parochial school had required me to learn. But I also talked to God. The “prayers” became rote, though I occasionally made myself concentrate on the words and appreciated what they were saying. Talking to God, though, never became rote, but was always fresh and real and often desperate. When I was a senior in high school I had my significant moment of knowing God differently. I already “knew” about Jesus's death on the cross and that it meant I got to go to heaven when I died. It was, after all, the answer to one of those long-ago-memorized catechism questions. But as an eighteen-year-old, I suddenly found myself taking God seriously, was saved, born-again, redeemed, or whatever theological label might be put on my renewed experience with the God I talked to. Now my conversations with the living God began in a new way.

I thought I'd focus this year's Light Lenten Reflections on talking to God, a.k.a. prayer. I won't attempt to write a definitive work on the subject here. (Light Lenten Reflections, remember?) It's not my style, and there are centuries of writers who have covered the topic in far more detail than I ever could. There are a lot of great books out there for those who want to delve deeper into prayer this Lent.* What I want to encourage us to do this Lent is to look at and practice how we talk to God. We all have some some concept of what prayer is or what we think it's supposed to be. We may feel we are good at it, or not so good at it at all. But if we believe that we were created to walk with God in a garden,** then we were also created to interact with Him on that walk. Let's put on our spiritual Nikes and just...do...it....

Something to think about: What are your earliest memories and understanding of prayer? How has your concept of prayer changed since childhood? Do you feel you can talk to God or are there any barriers to easy conversational prayer?

Something to talk (to God) about: Most of us feel we don't pray enough or pray “good” enough. Spend some time talking to God about your prayer life or lack there of. Be honest about how you feel about growing in your prayer life and tell God of your fears, hopes and expectations of what you'd like your time of talking to Him to look like this Lent.

*My favorite is Richard J. Foster's Prayer: Finding the Heart's True Home. Timothy Keller's Prayer: Experiencing Awe and Intimacy with God is good, too. The Foster book is more practical, the Keller book more theological, but both are encouraging.

**We were! I wrote about our garden relationship with God in The Angle for Light Lenten Reflections 2020.