The Mystery of Intercession

Frequently I am asked to pray for those with illnesses or personal (or family) troubles, and I count it a privilege to do so. But, I also must admit to being a bit conflicted about the nature of such prayers. Often the one requesting prayer is quite specific: “Pray that [name] might be completely healed from his [affliction],” or “Pray that the results of the test for [disease] might be negative,” or something similar. These requests reflect very real and very appropriate human concern for those we love and are quite honorable for precisely that reason. But, are they fully proper in a theological sense? That is my dilemma and the nature of my conflict: For what should I pray?

Part of my conflict is personal. I have a dear friend who, for some time, has experienced severe and debilitating pain. On one level I want to pray – and have repeatedly done so – that God might relieve his suffering and restore him to a healthy and normal life. For over one year, that did not happen. Instead, I have watched his suffering become a vehicle of grace, producing maturity, humility, patience – so many of the fruits of the Spirit – in his life. He is not now the person he was or the person he might have been but for the illness. Was the illness from God? How would I know? Was the illness used by God for his good purposes and for welfare of my friend? That I do know: yes, certainly. So what of my prayers for relief and healing – all well-intended, all offered in love and compassion? God, in his wisdom, knew better. God answered not the prayer I offered, but the prayer I would have offered had I but known his mind and his purpose. As another friend reminds me, God has four answers to prayer: Yes, no, not yet, and I have something better in mind. A bit more poetically, God speaks through Isaiah:

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

So, what am I to do when asked to pray for relief or healing or other specific intent, knowing not the particular thoughts and ways of God in the matter? The answer depends, in large part I think, on our understanding of the purpose of prayer. If the purpose of prayer is to advise God on the proper course of action or to persuade God that my will should be done on earth, it matters very much that I “get it right,” that I know precisely what to pray for. But certainly, this understanding of prayer is a misunderstanding of prayer. If, instead, the purpose of prayer is to enter into the pain of a brother or sister and to carry that pain to the mercy seat of the throne of God, to take up not only my brother or sister’s cross but the cross of Christ who bore all our pain on his cross, then it matters little that I “get it right.” What matters is that I pray, that I commend my brother or sister to God’s care, that I, in my prayer, come alongside another and walk with the other in company with Christ, led by the Holy Spirit, unto the throne of God. Let God “get it right;” my privilege is simply to pray, and to pray as I can, in my ignorance, but in my trust in God’s merciful wisdom. My forebears have thought more and better about all this than I ever will, and I treasure their Godly wisdom as preserved in the following collect from the Book of Common Prayer.

For a Sick Person
O Father of mercies and God of all comfort, our only help in time of need: We humbly beseech thee to behold, visit, and relieve thy sick servant N. for whom our prayers are desired. Look upon him with the eyes of thy mercy; comfort him with a sense of thy goodness; preserve him from the temptations of the enemy; and give him patience under his affliction. In thy good time, restore him to health, and enable him to lead the residue of his life in thy fear, and to thy glory; and grant that he may dwell with thee in life everlasting; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Amen, indeed.

Catholic Stew

I receive a daily email message from the Society of St. John the Evangelist, a monastic community of the Episcopal Church. I generally find these messages -- excepts from sermons preached by the brothers -- quite helpful. But, occasionally one leaves me scratching my head, not quite certain. The snippet for 22 August 2013 reads:

God’s vision is expansive. God’s loving-kindness is expansive. The net is cast wide to catch fish of every kind. We come to celebrate God’s infinitely expansive catholicity, the wide-reaching embrace of his love. It’s a mystery! And, here we all are, in the midst of this most savory, this most delectable stew.

Well, yes. And no. I've been fishing enough to know that some fish are quite unsavory, some are quite dangerous, and some are poisonous. I began to wonder what the sermon from which this was excerpted was all about. If you would like to read it in its entirety, it may be found at Catholic Stew. Some aspects of this sermon should wave caution flags, I think.

There seems to be a shift away from thinking of church as having to do mainly with individual salvation and toward seeing the church as agent of global transformation. Transformation of the economy, transformation of political systems, transformation of the environment. Even evangelicals appear to be moving in this direction in their very recent engaging of ecological concerns. The church is embracing a global, comprehensive perspective, which is to say, a catholic perspective.

Well, yes. And no. The Gospel is certainly broader than individual salvation. It is true to say that "Jesus died for your sins," but it is not quite the Truth. The truth is that Jesus died for the sins and restoration of the cosmos: "Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world." But, because that is the truth, it is therefore true that Jesus died for your sins. Take the whole and get the part for free. So while it is the truth that the church -- actually the Holy Spirit acting in and through the Church -- is an agent of global transformation, it is also true that such large scale endeavor begins with individuals being baptized into Christ, having their individual sins forgiven, and being indwelt and empowered by the Holy Spirit. There is danger in focusing too intently on either end of the spectrum: individual salvation to the exclusion of global/cosmic restoration or social activism to the exclusion of personal salvation. Perhaps this is what our brother meant in his sermon.

We see this impulse alive and well in the energy for ecumenical and interfaith relations. Although it’s hard to see how Christian truth claims can be reconciled with those of other world religions, there is, generally speaking, a curiosity about “the other”, a growing generosity of spirit toward those who understand God differently, a growing willingness to engage in conversation. A growing desire to collaborate in works of justice and compassion. A growing concern for the whole.

What does this mean, "a growing generosity of spirit toward those who understand God differently"? Is Islam, for example, a different understanding of God, or do Muslims worship a different God than do Christians? I do believe that many devout Muslims would be incensed if we insisted that Allah is simply another name for Father, Son, and Holy Spirit -- a different understanding of the same God, if you please. Quite to the contrary: a devout Muslim will insist vehemently that God is one, to the exclusion of Son and Spirit. Jesus is a prophet, yes, but he is not and was not God. Muslims understand that we do not understand God differently, but in fact worship different gods. William Willimon was correct when he said that a Christian has not said God until he has said Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Anything else is not merely a different understanding, but a different god. I do agree with our brother that "a growing generosity of spirit...a growing willingness to engage in coversation...[and] a growing desire to collaborate in works of justice and compassion" are important. But even this is problemmatic. Justice looks very different when comparing sh'ria law to Western democratic notions. And they both fail to bear much resemblance to the restorative justice -- the putting of things to right -- of the Gospel. Again, is this a different understanding of justice or a fundamentally different justice? If our concepts of justice and compassion are based upon the nature and person of the God we worship, then they will be as different as the gods we worship. "A growing concern for the whole" is important, but not at the expense of the part we believe to be most true.

Fish of every kind are being gathered in the church’s nets. And the parable reminds us that we don’t need to sort it out—angels will do that at the end of time. Our job is to be the bouillabaisse. And to realize and appreciate that the delightful complexity and subtlety of the stew depends on a wide variety of fish—fish like us, and fish not like us.

This sounds so darned nice on the face of it: keep 'em all, let God sort 'em out. So ... well, so non-judgmental. But, is it not, in reality, a failure to be discerning, a failure to say that while God accepts us all as we are, he leaves none of us in that sorry state? Is it not, in reality, a failure to proclaim the most basic message of the Gospel -- the message Jesus first proclaimed -- "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand"? Somewhere, there is a need for repentance, for realizing and saying that not all fish are savory, that some are dangerous or even poisonous. In fact, we probably need to say that all of us fish are unsavory, dangerous, and poisonous and in desperate need of the grace of God to transform us into the likeness of Christ. I'm not sure I hear that message clearly in our brother's sermon.

Egypt and the Beatitudes

Ruins of a Coptic Church Razed in Egypt's Protests

Sunday last, as our parish reflected upon the challenges and blessings of life in the Kingdom of God -- living as resident aliens amidst the rebellious earthly kingdoms (cf Ps. 2) -- as described in the Beatitudes (Mt 5:1-12), our rector pointed toward our Christian brothers and sisters in Egypt as examples of those persecuted for righteousness' sake -- reviled and persecuted and spoken evil of falsely. We joined with them in the solidarity of prayer and in the communion of saints at the Table of our Lord. And all this is good and right and our bounden duty. And yet.

This morning -- two days later -- a local newspaper featured a photograph of Egyptian Coptic Christians in Nashville, TN protesting the coup d'etat that ousted President Morsi. Both the photograph and article's headline were disturbing. The caption of the photograph read in part: "Egyptian Christians from Coptic Churches demonstrate Monday in Nashville to show their support of the Egyptian military and denounce violence against Christians." The most prominent sign held by any protestor read: WE SUPPORT EGYPTIAN MILITARY. The headline of the article declared: Egyptian Christians hold Nashville Protest.

 My mind returned to Sunday and to the Beatitudes. How, I wonder, does this response of Nashville's Coptic Christians fit with the Beatitudes?

Blessed are those who protest, for the loudest voice will be heard.

Blessed are those who support the military, for God's kingdom comes with tanks and bombs.

Blessed are those who look to the rulers of the earth to usher in the Kingdom, for the means of man accomplish the ends of God.

The truth of the matter -- the hard truth of the matter -- is that the Beatitudes paint a picture of life in the Kingdom of God -- here and now -- as a life salted with poverty of spirit (and the powerlessness that goes with it), sorrow, meekness (and not demonstrations), mercy, purity, peacemaking (not dependence on or support of the military and its violent means), persecution, and suffering. To the extent that the newspaper article and photograph reflect the reality in Egypt -- and not just in Nashville -- the actions of these our brothers and sisters seem bound up more in the politics of the world than of the Kingdom. And while it is right that we pray for an end to all persecution, while it is right that we show solidarity with our persecuted brothers and sisters through prayer, worship, and material support, we dare not accept their actions uncritically as representative of the ethics of the Kingdom. We all are, and must be, challenged by Christ's most basic message: "Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is at hand."

Of course, I write all this from the safety of a land in which, for the moment, Christians are not violently persecuted based either upon faith or politics; what I write can be dismissed -- and perhaps justly so -- on just that basis. Were our churches being razed and my family being harmed, I can only pray that I would cling to the truth of Jesus' vision and to the hope of God's Kingdom already but not yet here. I pray, but I also wonder. Lord, have mercy upon our persecuted brothers and sisters and bring them peace. Lord, have mercy upon me, a sinner.