“Prayer’s about changing us.”

From time to time I hear people claim, “Prayer’s not about prayer requests; not about getting what we want from God. Prayer’s about changing our attitudes. About learning to accept, and be content with, our circumstances. About learning to trust God’s will.”

Okay. I don’t disagree that prayer’s gonna change us. I don’t disagree that it’s a good thing for us to develop better, less greedy, less covetous attitudes; that a lot of things we pray for, aren’t really things we should pray for. Like Jesus’s brother James said,

James 4.3 NLT

And even when you ask, you don’t get it because your motives are all wrong—you want only what will give you pleasure.

Obviously that’s not true of our prayer requests in every instance; sometimes we are selfless in our requests. Sometimes we are interceding for others, or are asking for God’s help to be more fruitful and to follow Jesus better.

This changing of our attitudes is a good and noble thing. It’s gonna come as the result of praying God’s will be done. Growing to be more content in our circumstances, or even despite our circumstances, is also gonna come as a result of seeking God’s will. And hopefully we do seek God’s will in every prayer we pray, ’cause that’s how Jesus taught us in the Lord’s Prayer.

However. Most of the time when someone’s teaching us “Prayer’s not about prayer requests,” it’s not about encouraging us to become more selfless, nor to seek God’s will more often, nor to develop good fruit. It’s about discouraging us from expecting results.

Nine times out of ten, the person teaching it does not believe God answers prayer anymore. Either they’re full-on cessationist, and think God stopped doing miracles back in bible times, and because you’re asking for a miracle—because you’re asking for something so improbable it’d take a direct, personal act of God’s intervention, and these people are dead certain God doesn’t do that anymore—get ready for disappointment. He’s not gonna do that. Get used to him not doing that. Get used to an absent God.

Or they’re full-on determinist: They think God’s already got a plan in mind, and things are gonna unfold exactly according to plan. And our prayers, for the most part, violate that plan—and how dare we expect God to deviate from his good and perfect plan for our convenience—or worse, our selfish, fleshly motives? Nope; God’s never gonna change his mind, nor his plan, for us. We have to change our plans for him. Get with the program, and stop asking for stuff.

Or, let’s be blunt, it’s because they don’t really believe in God. They’re not Christian because they seek a personal relationship with our Creator and Savior. They’re Christian because they find it personally useful to be Christian. They like the culture, like the interaction with other Christians, don’t wanna alienate Christian family members, don’t wanna be ostracized from their predominantly Christian culture, don’t wanna outrage Christian nationalists, find they can make more money or gain political ground when they identify as Christian—any other reason than that personal relationship with Jesus. They don’t want that personal relationship with Jesus; not really. They’d have to change far more than they care to. And like I said, they don’t really believe in him anyway.

So when any of these groups talk about prayer, they’re absolutely not talking about any personal interaction with our Lord. It’s ritual. They’re making declarations into the heavens because that’s what Christians do—but they don’t believe anyone’s listening, and certainly don’t believe anyone’s gonna respond. And because all you’re really doing is talking to a heavenly brass wall, you need to adjust your expectations accordingly… and have none.

Nope; don’t expect to get any of your prayers answered. God doesn’t do that. Instead, focus on you. Focus on the attitudes you oughta have, as you pretend you’re actually talking to your heavenly Father. How would he want you to posture? What feelings would he expect you to have? Humility?—yeah, that’s a good one. Submission?—yeah that’s good too. Despair?—well let’s not call it despair; that sounds horrible. How about “surrender”?

Other than the pure faithlessness of it all, the reason I object most to this teaching about prayer is because Jesus clearly tells us to ask the Father for stuff. And to not despair. Persistent Widow Story, anyone?

Luke 18.6-8 NLT

6Then the Lord said, “Learn a lesson from this unjust judge. 7Even he rendered a just decision in the end. So don’t you think God will surely give justice to his chosen people who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? 8I tell you, he will grant justice to them quickly! But when the Son of Man returns, how many will he find on the earth who have faith?”

Well he won’t find faith in the folks who think prayer’s not about prayer requests. Only in the people who, like the widow, keep praying and never give up. That’s the attitude Jesus expects of us. Lk 18.1 Yes humility, yes submission—and yes, determination. Don’t give up!

The Long Ending of 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘬.

As I mentioned previously, the Gospel of Mark ends at verse 8. Maybe Mark wrote more; maybe not. In any event Christians have found the ending a little too abrupt, and tacked on the Shorter Ending and the Longer Ending. I wrote about the Shorter Ending earlier; now here’s the Long Ending. Mark wrote neither of these endings; eager Christian scribes came up with them in the 300s or 400s. Speaking as someone who’s translated all of Mark, I can definitely say the authors don’t write like Mark.

However. Even though Mark didn’t write them, both endings are still valid, inspired scripture. Still bible. No, not because of the King James Only folks; they have their own reasons for insisting it’s still bible, namely bibliolatry. Nope; it’s bible because it was in the ancient Christians’ copies of Mark when they determined Mark is bible. It’s bible because it’s confirmed by what Jesus’s apostles did in Acts and afterward. It’s bible because it’s true.

Here’s the Long Ending.

Mark 16.9-20 KWL

9Rising at dawn on the first of the week,

Jesus first appears to Mary the Magdalene,

out of whom he threw seven demons.

10Leaving, this woman reports

to the others who were continuing with Jesus,

to those mourning and weeping,

11and they’re hearing that Jesus lives—

and was seen by Mary!—and don’t believe it.

12After this, as two of them are walking,

Jesus is revealed in another form, going with them,

13and leaving, they report to the rest.

The rest don’t believe them either.

14Later, as the Eleven are reclining at table,

Jesus appears, and rants against

their unbelief and hard-heartedness,

for people saw him as resurrected,

and they didn’t believe it.

15Jesus tells them, “Go into the world

and proclaim the gospel everywhere to every creature.

16Those who believe and are baptized will be saved.

Those who don’t believe will be judged.

17Miracles will accompany the believers:

In my name, people will throw out demons.

People will speak in new tongues.

18People will pick up snakes in their hands,

and if anyone drinks poison, it won’t injure them.

People will lay hands on the sick,

and they will be well.”

19So after Master Jesus’s speech to them,

he’s raptured into heaven and sits at God’s right.

20Leaving, these apostles proclaim everywhere

about the Master they work with and his message,

confirming it through the accompanying signs. Amen.

Some bibles put the Short and Long Endings in brackets; some put the Long Ending in brackets and the Short Ending in the footnotes; and some don’t display the Short Ending at all and just present the Long Ending as if it’s the only ending Mark has. That’s irresponsible; they have no business depriving Christians of the Short Ending.

Orthodox Easter.

Today, 12 April 2026, is Easter in the Orthodox Church.

Which is admittedly weird. Orthodox churches have the very same rule for figuring out the date of Easter as the rest of Christendom: It’s the first Sunday after the first full moon of spring. Therefore the Orthodox celebrations of Easter should fall on exactly the same day as Catholic and Protestant and nondenominational churches. Same as they do every other year.

Here’s why they don’t: Orthodox custom insists Easter has to take place after Passover. It can’t do it before; it can’t do it during. Last week’s Easter observance was in the middle of the Passover festival.

Now, when Easter falls before Passover—like it did in 2024, when it was nearly a whole month before Easter—I’d say the Orthodox have a valid point. If Easter is the Christian Passover, shouldn’t they happen at the same time, or at least very near the same time?

Most of the reason they don’t, has to do with ancient Christians intentionally trying to disconnect the two holidays. Some of those Christians were most definitely antisemitic. (How you can be antisemitic when our Lord is a Jew still makes no sense to me, but since when have antisemites made sense?) That’s why they chose our formula for determining Easter, instead of scheduling it right after Passover. That way they wouldn’t be dependent on the Hebrew calendar.

But… why be independent of the Hebrew calendar? After all, we’re not independent of the Hebrew scriptures: We still read and revere the Old Testament. We’re not independent of the Law and Prophets; they point us to God’s will for our lives. The Hebrews’ Messiah is our Messiah. You can’t divorce Jesus and Christianity from their historical background without getting weird… and, most of the time, dangerously heretic.

Ordinarily I’d agree with the Orthodox, but this year I think they’re being too particular. Jesus died 14 Nisan, the day before Passover, and rose 16 Nisan, the second day of the festival. Easter happened during Passover. No reason it can’t still happen during Passover, like it did last week. (Following the usual formula, sometimes this happens.) But there shouldn’t be any disconnect at all between Passover and Easter. Jesus is the world’s Passover lamb.

(As for all the other Christians who celebrated Easter last week: You realize it’s still Easter until Pentecost, right? Oh, you forgot. Well, no problem. Here’s your reminder.)

Happy Easter, folks.

Sanctus.

The name Sanctus comes from the first word of the Latin translation of this prayer. The first three lines come from Isaiah 6.3, where the seraphs are shouting in praise of the LORD; the last three come from Matthew 21.9, where the people shout in praise as Jesus entered Jerusalem on a donkey.

Holy holy holy Lord

God of power and might

Heaven and earth are full of your glory

Hosanna in the highest

Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord

Hosanna in the highest

The form comes from St. John Chrysostom. Earlier English translations, as found in the Book of Common Prayer, have for the second line, “God of Sabaoth.” The Roman Missal has “God of hosts.” These are all translations of the Hebrew יְהוָ֨ה צְבָא֜וֹת/YHWH Chavaót, “LORD of vast numbers” (KJV “LORD of hosts”). Christians have variously translated chavaót as hosts, armies, “power and might,” troops, “angel armies” if you’re gonna make assumptions about what his armies consist of (and why can’t God mobilize his billions of human followers?), or “Sabaoth” Ro 9.29 if, like Paul, you don’t care to translate it. Me, I tend to go with “LORD of War,” because whenever YHWH Chavaót appears in the bible, the author usually expects God to kick some ass.

Most people nowadays assume hosanna (Syriac ܐܽܘܫܰܥܢܳܐ/wošánna) either means “rejoice,” or is a word used to rejoice. It’s not. It means “Oh, save [us].” Saying “Hosanna in the highest” properly means, “By the Most High”—either in his power or his name—“save us.” There’s some expectation Jesus has come to save—which is true, though they might’ve been expecting Jesus to save them from the Romans, not so much from sin and death. But yeah, this isn’t a praise word like people imagine. It’s a prayer request.

Musical bonus: A song by a friend of mine, James Thomas La Brie. Big instrumental first part; and of course his version of the Sanctus in the “Hosanna in the Highest” part. YouTube

Many of these ancient prayers have of course been set to music. That’s the way most Protestants know of them: When I first wrote about the Sanctus years ago, one of the more common responses I got was, “I thought this was a worship song.” Well it is. But first it was a rote prayer. Musicians rediscover rote prayers all the time, and set ’em to music. If they don’t rhyme, chances are they began their existence as a prayer.

And like many a rote prayer, we can use this prayer to help us meditate. You wanna get your mind off the things around you, and concentrate on God? You tap those rote prayers. Repeat them to yourself, focus on the words, focus on the Lord, and praise him.

Jesus’s resurrection, in 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘬.

Mark 16.1-9.

The following is everything Mark has to say about Jesus’s resurrection.

Seriously, everything. If it seems short to you, that’s because your average bible includes the Long Ending, which—though wholly accurate—wasn’t written by Mark. It was written later by Christians who felt the Gospel of Mark ended much too abruptly; that it’s not enough to just say Jesus is risen and alive, you gotta talk about what he did after he arose.

Anyway let’s just look at the scriptures:

Mark 16.1-9 KWL

1Sabbath having passed,

Mary the Magdalene,

Mary mother of James bar Alphæus,

and Salomë

buy fragrances so they can anoint Jesus.

2Very early on the first day of the week,

at sunrise,

the women go to the sepulcher.

3The women are saying to themselves,

“Who will roll away for us

the stone at the sepulcher door?”

4Looking, they see the stone was rolled away,

for it’s very big.

5Entering the sepulcher,

they see a “young man” sitting at the right,

clothed in a white robe.

They’re alarmed.

6The “young man” tells them, “Don’t be alarmed.

You seek the crucified Jesus the Nazarene.

He is risen! He’s not here.

Look at the place he was put.

7But go; tell Jesus’s students and Simon Peter this:

‘He goes before you to the Galilee.

You’ll see him there, like he told you.’ ”

8Coming out, the women flee the sepulcher,

for they’re shaking and ecstatic.

They say nothing to no one, for they’re afraid.

And that’s how the gospel ends: With καὶ οὐδενὶ οὐδὲν εἶπαν· ἐφοβοῦντο γάρ/ke udení udén eínan—efovúnto yár, “and nothing to no one they say, for they be afraid.” Done. The end.

Since it’s kind of a sucky ending, Christians came up with two better ones. Probably the first one they came up with was the Short Ending, which I’ll include here. The Long Ending merits another article.

Yes, I realize there are gonna be people who don’t know about either the Short Ending or Long Ending, think the Long Ending is bible, and are horrified that it might not be. Relax; it’s bible. So’s the Short Ending. Both are scripture; both were inspired by the Holy Spirit; both are canon; both are true; doesn’t matter that Mark didn’t write ’em. Now lemme just take the Short Ending out of your bible’s footnotes, and here it is:

Mark 16.9 KWL [Short Ending]

Everything the “young man” commanded about Peter

the women concisely proclaimed.

After these things, Jesus himself sent them east to west

with the holy and immortal message of salvation

in the age to come. Amen!

Easter.

On 5 April 33, before the sun rose at 5:23 a.m. in Jerusalem, Jesus of Nazareth rose from the dead. Executed less than 48 hours before, he became the first human on earth to be resurrected.

Jesus died the day before Passover. This was deliberate. This way his death fulfilled many of the Passover rituals. Because of this relationship to Passover, many Christians actually call this day some variation of the Hebrew פֶּסַח/Pesákh, “Passover.” In Greek and Latin (and Russian), it’s Pascha; in Danish Påske, Dutch Pasen, French Pâques, Italian Pasqua, Spanish Pascua, Swedish Påsk.

But in many Germanic-speaking countries, including English, we use the ancient pagan word for April, Eostur. In German this becomes Ostern; in English Easter. Because of the pagan origins of this word, certain Christians avoid it and just call the day “Resurrection Sunday.” Which is fine, but confuses non-Christians who don’t realize why we’re acting like a bunch of snowflakes.

Easter is our most important holiday. Christmas tends to get the world’s focus (and certainly that of merchants), but it’s only because Christmas doesn’t stretch their beliefs too far. Everybody agrees Jesus was born; we only differ on details. But Easter is about how Jesus rose from the dead, and that’s a sticking point for a whole lot of pagans. They don’t buy it.

They don’t even like it: When they die, they wanna go to heaven and stay there. Resurrection? Coming back? In a body? No no no. And we’ll even find Christians who agree with them: They’ll claim Jesus didn’t literally return from death, but exists in some super-spiritual ghostly form which returned to heaven. And that’s where we’ll go too: Heaven. No resurrection; not necessary. Yes it’s a heretic idea, but a popular one.

So to pagans, Easter’s a myth. It’s a nice story about how we Christians think Jesus came back from the dead, but they insist it comes from ancient times, back when people believed anyone could come back from the dead if they knew the right magic spell. Really it’s just a metaphor for spring, new life, rebirth; just like eggs and baby chicks and bunnies. They’ll celebrate that. With chocolate, fancy hats, brunch, and maybe an egg hunt.

But to us Christians, Easter happened. It validates Jesus; without his resurrection we’d have no clue whether he was just one of many great moral teachers, or someone to seriously bet our lives upon. It proves he’s everything he said he is. Proved it for the first Christians, who risked (and suffered) fearful deaths for him. Proves it for today’s Christians, some of whom do likewise.

The harrowing of hell.

According to the creeds, when Jesus died he descendit ad inferos. Inferos is the plural accusative form of inferus, which properly means “places of the dead,” the afterlife. When Jesus died, he didn’t bypass the afterlife and go straight to heaven, to the Father’s throne room. He went where the dead go. He went to paradise, as he told the thief crucified next to him:

Luke 23.43 KJV

And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in paradise.

But popular Christian mythology says Jesus went to the other part of the afterlife. He died, they argue, with all humanity’s sin on his soul; with every single wicked thing every human has ever done. (And have yet to do. Trillions more sins have yet to be committed before the end of the world. That’s a whole lot of human depravity!) So where does such a wicked being go? Well, if you believe in karma not grace, where do you think they go?—the bad part of the afterlife. The place Dives went in the Lazarus story. The place we call hell.

This is a long, old Christian myth. It’s been around since the fourth century. Christians ever since that time have been casually swapping out infernos, “hellfire,” for inferos—and some of ’em think it means the same thing, and some think infernos is correct. It’s why they spread the idea that on Holy Saturday, the day after Jesus died, the day his body was resting in the sepulcher, he did go to hell. Not to be tormented though; to bring salvation to the Old Testament saints who’d been there since the beginning of death.

Seems none of these saints had been to paradise; certainly not heaven. Instead they were in some form of limbo, “border”—a shadowy place wedged between heaven, where they didn’t deserve to go; and hell, where they also didn’t deserve to go. (“Deserve” is the operative word here—again, grace isn’t part of this story.) Supposedly these “fathers” of our faith—nothing about the mothers—sat around at the border of hell, waiting for Messiah to die for their sins and free them from this limbus patrum, “limbo of the fathers.” As opposed to the limbus infantum, “limbo of infants”—where unbaptized babies go ’cause they neither merit heaven nor hell—a myth the Roman Catholics formally rejected in 2007 as inconsistent with God’s grace. Really all supposed “limbos” are inconsistent with grace, and not biblical; hence mythological.

As the myth goes, after Jesus died he went straight to hell and proclaimed the gospel to these saints. As is implied in 1 Peter:

1 Peter 4.6 KJV

For for this cause was the gospel preached also to them that are dead, that they might be judged according to men in the flesh, but live according to God in the spirit.

I firmly believe “them that are dead” is a metaphor, about sinners who are as good as dead in their sins, whom God can still save. But obviously Christians have been using this as a proof text for this myth. Jesus shared the gospel with them, and if they believed and followed Jesus, he led ’em to heaven. If they rejected Jesus, hell was right there, and off they went. And that is how all the Old Testament saints are now in heaven.