The prayer of faith. Or, y’know, not.

There’s a blog I used to follow. He’s a pastor who likes to talk about politics. Over time he’s allowed his politics to corrupt his interpretation of Christianity… although it might be more accurate to say his interpretations were always compromised, and he’s just publicly admitting it. Anyway, once I realized what he was doing, I stopped reading.

One of the articles which made me say, “Whoa, waitaminnit,” was on how he stopped believing in prayer. That is, he doesn’t believe it cures the sick. He tried to cure the sick; as a pastor he’s in thousands of situations where somebody asked Pastor to pray for the sick and dying. He’s led prayer vigils and prayer chains, and begged God time and again to cure people or let ’em live. But he didn’t get the results he asked for. Either God didn’t cure them (or didn’t cure them enough), or didn’t let them live.

So he’s concluded prayer must not work that way. It’s not, he says, about making our petitions known to God, hoping God might intervene in human history and do us a miracle. It’s only about being God-mindful, and letting that mindset transform us and our attitudes.

He’s not the first Christian to claim this. I grew up in cessationist churches, and heard it all the time from Christians who likewise don’t believe God does miracles anymore, so there’s no point in asking for one. To cessationists, the best God will do for you is grant you wise doctors, or keep other things from interfering with the body’s natural healing processes. But praying for miracles is just the act of desperate people who can’t accept reality. You just gotta accept the fact God’s allowing this to happen, and slog it out. Hey, suffering builds character.

I might be inclined to believe this too… but then again I read the bible. Specifically James.

James 5.13-18 NIV

13Is anyone among you in trouble? Let them pray. Is anyone happy? Let them sing songs of praise. 14Is anyone among you sick? Let them call the elders of the church to pray over them and anoint them with oil in the name of the Lord. 15And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up. If they have sinned, they will be forgiven. 16Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.

17Elijah was a human being, even as we are. He prayed earnestly that it would not rain, and it did not rain on the land for three and a half years. 18Again he prayed, and the heavens gave rain, and the earth produced its crops.

Sure sounds like James bar Joseph, brother of Christ Jesus, believed prayers can cure the sick.

Based on what? Duh; based on personal experience—read Acts. In James’s day, Christians prayed for one another and for strangers, and got straight-up cured. Cured like when Jesus cured the sick, ’cause it’s the very same Holy Spirit who empowers the curing. James recommended elders of the church, the mature believers among them. When newbies make these prayers, sometimes they lack the maturity and faith for effective prayer. They’ll learn; give ’em time.

Cured like people got cured back in bible times. For James, “bible times” was Old Testament times—when Elijah performed miracles, which is why he pointed to Elijah in verses 17-18. Well, the same Holy Spirit who empowered Elijah, empowered Christians of his day, and empowers Christians of our day. God never turned off the miracles. They still happen.

I’ve had this same personal experience. I’ve seen sick people get cured, right in front of me. Prayed for them, and the Holy Spirit cured them. They prayed for me, and the Holy Spirit cured me. No I didn’t psyche myself into thinking the Spirit cured me; I was honestly skeptical he’d do anything, and he graciously cured me anyway. Wasn’t my faith that cured me; it was the person praying for me. That’s all the Spirit wants to see.

So why do I have experiences which jibe with the bible, and this blogger doesn’t?

Don’t needlessly provoke your government.

1 Peter 2.13-17.

First I wanna remind you Simon Peter, when commanded by the Judean senate to shut up about Christ Jesus and how they had him killed, informed them, “We ought to obey God rather than men.” Ac 5.29 KJV Then two decades later, he wrote the following passage in 1 Peter:

1 Peter 2.13-17 KWL

13{So} submit yourselves² to every human institution,

because of the Master—

whether to kings,

to authority figures like kings;

14whether to leaders,

to agents sent by them to punish evildoers

and to praise those who do good.

15For this is God’s will:

Those who do good are to silence

the ignorance of foolish people.

16Be like freemen—

not like those looking for an excuse for evil,

but like God’s slaves.

17Treat everyone with respect.

Love the Christian brotherhood.

Reverently fear God.

Respect the king.

There are two ways I’ve seen people tackle this passage. More often it’s the folks who insist, “This passage tells us to obey our leaders, our institutions, and our elders”—and never notice this therefore creates a massive discrepancy between the Simon Peter who write this, and the Simon Peter who stood up to the Judean senate and told them he couldn’t obey them. I’ve pointed this out to these people, and it makes ’em hem and haw for a minute, as they’re desperately trying to think up a quick ’n dirty way out of this new bible difficulty I’ve presented them. Relax; it’s not a bible difficulty. They’re just interpreting 1 Peter wrong.

Then there are the folks who ignore it entirely. Most of ’em haven’t even read the letters of Simon Peter, though they will quote ’em to proof-text their favorite End Times beliefs. They might know this passage, but they hand-wave it away, and do as they please—and don’t respect human institutions. Don’t respect the government. Don’t respect federal and state agents, don’t respect cops and the military, don’t respect elected representatives. To them, government is bad, and anyone who works for the government is bad. And they might believe this for religious reasons—iike certain Mennonites, Quakers, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and the Nation of Islam, who believe human governments are forms of treason against God’s kingdom and Jesus’s reign. (Well, not the Muslims, who believe Jesus doesn’t reign till his second coming.) But most of the folks I know, believe this for libertarian reasons: Human governments are usurpations of their reign. They believe they are sovereign, and answer to no one.

Neither of them is correct. Neither misinterpretation, nor no interpretation, is the way to go. The ancient biblical worldview is that God rules all… but God allows humans to set up our own little kingdoms for the sake of law and order. and approves of them when we do right, and doesn’t approve—and sometimes intervenes, and has ’em overthrown—when we don’t. And, contrary to Christian nationalists, God doesn’t need them to be Christian or Israeli to get his approval. You do realize every human government outside of ancient Israel was neither Christian nor Israeli?—and that most governments on earth today are neither? But if they’re just, and stop evildoers from murder and theft and exploiting the weak, God’s usually okay with them. Someday Jesus will overthrow them all, but for now, they can do their thing.

The Roman Empire and Judean senate of Peter’s day were none of those things, and the United States federal government of our day is none of those things. God help us all. But that’s the proper historical context of this scripture. We gotta take that into consideration when we interpret it. Peter’s not writing about obeying a righteous government, nor only obeying a righteous government, nor obeying an unrighteous pagan government. But we do have to take our governments into consideration when we live under them. And that, not blind obedience, is what submission is actually about.

Treasures in heaven.

Matthew 6.19-21, Luke 12.33-34.

In Jesus’s Sermon on the Mount, after he finished objecting to hypocrisy in giving to charity, in types of prayer, and in public fasting, he moved on to talk about wealth and money.

You’ll notice the three verses in Matthew I’m gonna point to today, don’t by themselves nail down precisely how we’re to stash our treasures in heaven. That, we actually have to pull from Jesus’s parallel teaching in Luke: Give to charity. And if you know your Old Testament, you might remember this proverb:

Proverbs 19.17 NKJV

He who has pity on the poor lends to the LORD,

And He will pay back what he has given.

Jesus’s first-century audience would’ve known that one… and Jesus’s 21st-century audience had better learn that one.

Matthew 6.19-21 KWL

19“Don’t hoard wealth for yourselves² on earth,

where moths and corrosion ruin it,

where thieves dig for it and steal it.

20Hoard wealth for yourselves² in heaven,

where neither moth nor corrosion ruins,

where thieves don’t dig for it nor steal it:

21Where’s your¹ wealth?

Your¹ mind will be there too.”

Luke 12.33-34 KWL

33“Sell your² possessions and give to charity.

Make yourselves² a wallet which never wears out.

Infallible wealth in the heavens,

which a thief can’t come near, nor moth destroy.

34“Where’s your² wealth?

Your² minds will be there too.”

This passage has been greatly nullified by our culture. Y’see, we have banks and insurance. Nowadays, if our minds are on our money, it’s only because we don’t have those securities; we have too much cash in our wallets, and fear someone might steal it, or we own valuables in a neighborhood full of thieves. Back then, such things were a constant fear—“Is my money secure?”—because the ancients had to secure their own wealth. Neither financial institutions, nor the government, would do it for ’em. Wasn’t their job. Wasn’t anyone’s job.

Americans tend to take property rights for granted. The ancients weren’t so naïve. If the king wanted your stuff, he’d take it. Land, cattle, wives. You remember Abraham was regularly worried different kings would swipe his wife from him—’cause kings did that. Ge 12.12-13, 20.2 Even though Abraham was powerful enough to muster his very own private army to rescue his nephew.

God mitigated this by having, “Don’t steal” Dt 5.19 apply to kings and commoners alike. True, it’s way harder to get justice when the king’s doing the thievery, like when David ben Jesse stole Uriah’s wife, or Ahab ben Omri stole Naboth’s vineyard. The LORD had to personally intervene, because nobody else could.

And in Jesus’s day, Israel wasn’t ruled by a proper king. It was ruled by Roman puppets. You could appeal to the Romans, but good luck getting justice if you didn’t have citizenship; the Romans would treat you just like Americans treat illegal aliens. (Well okay, crucifixion is way worse than how ICE treats foreigners. But still.)

So if you had wealth, you had to secure it. Just like paranoid people do today. Better build a strongroom in your house, or find a clever way to disguise or hide it. Lots of people simply buried it in a hole in the ground, just like the worthless steward in Jesus’s story of the talents. Mt 25.25 Or that buried treasure in Jesus’s other story. Mt 13.44 Hey, if nobody knows where your hole is, thieves can’t dig it up. (The KJV decided to translate διορύσσουσιν/diorýssusin, “dig through” as “break through”—a common enough way to get into a flimsy wooden house in the 17th century, but much harder to do with the solid stone houses of the first century.)

And even so, after all the precautions they took to make sure nobody could find or get at their wealth, the wealthy would worry. ’Cause any disaster could destroy it. Invading armies, or some covetous noble, could grab your land. Earthquakes could flatten your buildings. Determined looters, or even just a fire, could gut your house. Any possession could be lost. Easily.

It’s the very reason we invented insurance. Pay a little each month or year, and your possessions are protected and guaranteed? Brilliant. Now the only thing we need worry about is whether we have enough money.

So we need to climb into the first-century mindset about money before we can really understand Jesus. Imagine you’re in a really bad neighborhood, you’re not carrying a gun or taser or pepper spray, and for some crazy reason you’ve got a roll of $10,000 on you. How secure are you gonna feel about that money?

Got that mental picture? Good. Now imagine having that worry all the time.

God’s existence. In case you don’t consider it a given.

Since Christian creeds usually begin with “I believe in God,” people think the existence of God—and proving it—is a theology subject. It’s not really. It’s an apologetics subject.

Theology, the study of God, takes God’s existence as a given. As does the bible.

Genesis 1.1 NASB

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.

John 1.1 NASB

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

The authors of the scriptures never bother to explain God’s existence. (They do have to explain Jesus’s existence, but never God’s.) Because he’s just there. Existing. Creating. Interacting with humanity.

Not battling the universe, nor Titans and other gods, so he could reign over them and control the elements. He’s not at all like the creator-gods or king-gods of pagan mythology. He alone created the universe; he alone rules it. Humans and devils and lowercase-g “gods” might stand against him from time to time, but there’s absolutely no contest as to who’s right, who’s mightiest, and who’s gonna win.

So why do most theology books have to start with a chapter on God’s existence? We never have to convince fellow Christians of such a thing; Christians already know he exists.

Well… okay, fair, there are some Christians who have their doubts about God’s existence. They’re not as rare as they oughta be; I’ve met plenty. They’re usually children or teenagers, or new believers, or longtime Christians who never bothered to take Jesus seriously until recently. The reason they’re Christian is someone told ’em about Jesus, and they believed that evangelist. But they have yet to experience God for themselves. Haven’t seen a miracle. Haven’t heard the Holy Spirit talk to them. Might not even know there is a Holy Spirit; they go to one of those cessationist churches which swap out the Holy Spirit for the Holy Bible, and worship that instead. Those folks claim God turned off the miracles—and tell these poor newbies they can’t have any God-experiences till Jesus comes to get ’em, either in the rapture or when they die. In the meanwhile, the newbies gotta take God’s existence on faith. Well, they’re not wholly sure they have that much faith!

I suspect those initial theology-book chapters on God’s existence are written for such doubters, to remind ’em, “No really; as Christians we gotta believe in God. Makes no sense to call Jesus ‘the son of God,’ or ‘God incarnate,’ if there’s no God!” When you look at cessationist churches, and look at the effects of their assumption God won’t interact with humanity till the End Times, it’s so disturbingly hollow, fruitless, and hypocritical. We got plenty enough of those problems in continuationist churches, but at least we acknowledge the Spirit’s among us to correct us, and we might actually heed his corrections! They don’t, and when he tries, they’re apt to reject him as a devilish trick. Yikes.

But I digress. Ordinarily we don’t have to prove God’s existence to fellow Christians. It’s a given that Jesus is God and comes from God. It’s as silly as going to a physician who doesn’t believe in science, or using the GPS in your car when you believe in a flat earth. God’s a foundational belief, and you can’t very well built a house without a foundation.

Yet Christian apologists insist we should start every theology discussion, every theology class, every theology textbook, with an obligatory lesson on what a God is, and how we know such a being exists. The better-written books do as I did, and point out the scriptures take God’s existence for granted, with no preliminary explanation. And tell us how we know he exists: Special revelation. People throughout history, including today, have God-experiences. He talks to people and performs the occasional miracle, and many of us Christians have witnessed this for ourselves. He may be invisible, but his presence among believing Christians is so blatantly obvious, we never had to deduce him from nature or logic.

So why do apologists persist on using logical deduction to prove God’s existence? Well… they’ve been convinced they really oughta learn how to. By whom? By the sucky Christians I described a few paragraphs ago. Despite the scriptures repeatedly talking about personal experiences with God, and encouraging us to do likewise, 1Jn 1.1-3 they claim we can’t have any such personal experiences; we gotta depend on reason. They don’t believe they can have an interactive relationship with God (or, bluntly, don’t actually want one), and have adopted a belief system which justifies an absent God. Really, logical deduction is all they have left.

You wanna prove God’s existence? It’s super easy when you can point to God-experiences. And I still find it bonkers when I meet a Christian who claims they’ve had God-experiences… yet whenever they talk to skeptics about God’s existence, the very first thing they turn to are apologetics arguments based on logical deduction.

Dude, you could simply give them a word of knowledge, like Jesus did to Nathanael!

John 1.47-50 NASB

47Jesus saw Nathanael coming to Him, and said of him, “Here is truly an Israelite, in whom there is no deceit!” 48Nathanael said to Him, “How do You know me?” Jesus answered and said to him, “Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you.” 49Nathanael answered Him, “Rabbi, You are the Son of God; You are the King of Israel!” 50Jesus answered and said to him, “Because I said to you that I saw you under the fig tree, do you believe? You will see greater things than these.”

Didn’t take Jesus three hours in a coffeehouse to at least convince Nathanael he was somebody worth listening to. It took Jesus two statements which peered directly into Nathanael’s soul, and the lad believed. Beat that with a stick.

But I digress. You wanna know about the logical arguments for God’s existence? Fine. Let’s talk.

Jesus is the way, truth, and life. [Jn 14.6]

John 14.6 KJV

Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.

After his Last Supper, Jesus spoke with his students about leaving them to go prepare a place for them, so he could take ’em there and they could be with him. Jn 14.1-4 His student Thomas expressed concern that he and the others had no idea which way Jesus was going.

So in this verse, Jesus tells Thomas he’s the way. It’s not so much a path the students were on; it’s a person they follow. They follow Jesus. As did Christians throughout history; as do Christians today. He’s the way.

There’s a number of reasons this Jesus quote is such a useful memory verse to meditate upon. That’s one. We really oughta consider what it means that we follow Jesus—not a program, a system, an agenda, steps to enlightenment, ranks and classes and levels. Our religion isn’t practices and ritual. Our religion is Jesus. We follow him. He’s the way.

Think of our religion like a body—and Jesus like the spirit. A body without its spirit is dead. Well, Christianity without Jesus is dead: All we’d have left are the practices. And plenty of people are just fine with that!—the practices are familiar, comfortable, meaningful, and make ’em feel spiritual instead of actually being Spirit-led. But it’s like that old movie Weekend at Bernie’s, where they’re propping up a corpse and making it appear alive. Gruesome. But commonplace.

Not everybody recognizes this. Even longtime followers who think they get it—who are eager to tell everybody within earshot, “It’s a relationship, not a religion!”—don’t get it. ’Cause they’ve prioritized their religious activities over Jesus. Prioritized their favorite Jesus-experts and rituals. Experts and rituals are fine when they actually do further our relationship with Jesus, but when they’re just spinning our wheels, they’re just dead religion—sometimes even bad religion—and need to be ditched in favor of following Jesus.

Saying grace.

The most common type of prayer—the one we see most often, and probably the type taken the least seriously—is the prayer before meals. We call it “grace.” Not to be confused with God’s generous, forgiving attitude.

Why don’t people take these prayers seriously? Bluntly, it’s a type of dead religion.

Living religion is what we do to further an authentic, healthy relationship with God. And we can do that when we pray for meals: We can be authentically grateful to God for providing us food. We can ask that he bless the food and keep it healthy, bless the cooks who made it, maybe bless the restaurant which serves it and keep ’em profitable. (I really don’t know why Christians don’t think to pray for the restaurants they’re in.) But more often, Christians say grace before meals because that’s just what Christians do in our culture. It’s custom. It’s tradition. It’s habit. That’s all.

Nope, it’s not said out of gratitude. Nor love. Nor devotion. Nor even as a reminder of these things. We say grace because if we didn’t say grace, Grandma would slap the food out of our hands and say, “You didn’t say grace!” We say grace because Dad would take his seat at the table, fold his hands like you’d do for prayer, and give us kids dirty looks until we stopped eating, noticed what he was doing, and mimicked his behavior. We say grace because it’s how people wait for everyone to be ready before the meal starts. Beyond a minor acknowledgment, God has nothing to do with it.

Y’notice in these scenarios, it’s because Grandma or Dad insisted upon saying grace. Not because anybody else did, or thought to, or even cared. It’s enforced religion: Everybody’s gotta participate in Grandma or Dad’s spiritual practice, which might be a valid part of their relationships with God, but not ours. And probably wasn’t even a valid part: They did it because they were likewise raised to do it. They felt it wasn’t proper to eat before a ritual prayer. So it’s just a formality.

And in many cases it’s a superstition: If you don’t bless the food, it’s not blessed; it’s cursed. Eat it you’ll get sick. Supposedly God is spiteful like that. (But really the superstitious Christians are spiteful like that.)

As a result of all this Christianist junk behind saying grace, we wind up with people who treat it as an annoyance. Or even passive-aggressively mock it with silly rote prayers.

Good bread, good meat.

Good God, let’s eat.

Rub a dub dub

Thanks for the grub

Yea, God!

At one children’s ministry I worked with, we had a rote prayer we used for grace. Actually it was an old hymn, suitable for thanking God for food. And since each line was eight syllables long, it meant it perfectly fit a whole lot of tunes. Old TV show theme songs were popular, like The Flintstones and The Addams Family. The adult leaders would have the children sing the prayer to these silly songs… then wonder why the kids didn’t take grace all that seriously. Well duh: They weren’t being taught to! Obviously.

Okay, so let’s take a more serious look at saying grace. And, believe it or not, whether we oughta drop the practice. Yeah, you read right.

The new people of God.

1 Peter 2.9-12.

Passages like the section of 1 Peter I’m analyzing today, tend to get quoted by people who wanna preach replacement theology, the belief Israel is no longer God’s chosen people, ’cause he ditched them because they rejected their Messiah. It’s not a belief consistent with the scriptures, ’cause God never ditched ancient Israel. He may have let the Assyrians and Babylonians conquer them, but he stuck with them regardless. Yes, after they rejected Jesus, he let the Romans conquer them. Yet he still hasn’t ditched them. Still wants to save them. Still wants to be their God, and they his people.

But—so long that we continue to abide in Christ, y’know, Jn 15.4 God also considers us Christians his people. A new people, bonded to him by his new covenant. Simon Peter applies some of the covenant-language of the Old Testament, previously applied to Israel, to us Christians. Not because those Old Testament passages were prophesying about Christendom; they weren’t. They’re absolutely about ancient Israel. But when we come out of the darkness and into God’s light, we become like ancient Israel, and discover our relationship with God looks like everything he promised their relationship with him coulda been—and could still be!—had they only followed him.

1 Peter 2.9-12 KWL

9All of you² “chosen generation,” Is 43.20

you² “kingdom of priests

and holy nation,” Ex 19.6

you* “people I preserve” Is 43.21

exist so the virtues might be made known

of the One calling you² out of darkness

into his wonderful light.

10 Previously not a people,

and now God’s people.

Previously not shown grace,

and now you² were shown grace.

11Beloved, I encourage you² all,

like foreigners and refugees,

to stay away from fleshly desires—

whatever wages war with the soul—

12having your² way of life among the gentiles

be better so that,

though they speak ill of you² like criminals,

yet still seeing your² good deeds,

might glorify God on Judgment Day.

There are a lot of similarities between Christians and the ancient Hebrews. Previously they lived in darkness; they weren’t really a people-group; they were slaves in Egypt until the LORD rescued them. Christians, in comparison, before we turned to Jesus, were slaves to sin. God had to rescue us, same as he rescued the Hebrews—and wants to lead us towards a glorious destiny, same as he intended for the Hebrews.

If only we’d continue to follow him. Too many of us really don’t, give in to our fleshly desires, 1Pe 2.11 and hypocritically pretend that’s okay; we’ve got grace now! That’s gonna have consequences. Peter doesn’t get into that, but I remind you to learn the lesson from Israel’s bad example. There but for God’s grace go we.