How is prayer different on the mission field?

I arrived in Salt Lake City last night for our week-long mission trip. As I drifted off to sleep I began to pray for God to protect me. But it hit me. The culture that I'm now surrounded by most likely prays similar prayers, but to a completely different god than the God I worship. So my prayers altered, to a much more Trinitarian version of the same prayer I just prayed. 

Yes, I know the intent of my heart was to pray to the God who inspired our inerrant Scriptures by his breath, but praying rightly isn't just about the intent, is it?

This morning I read Matthew 3:13-17, the baptism of Jesus, a wholly Trinitarian passage. Then, Dr. Mickinions Theology 1 class kicked in, I looked up the Athanasian Creed (I think I'll sit in these all week), and read, "The Catholic Faith is this: That we worship one God in Trinity, and Trinity in Unity.

So back to the above question, how is prayer different on the mission field? Well, it's not, but it is.

It's not different because at all times we should be strikingly aware of the words we are using to pray to the Maker of All. But it is different because I know I've been wrenched from the normal routine and stuck in a place where 2.8% of the people are affiliated with an evangelical church. Out of nearly 1.8 million people that's about 50,000 people who regularly hear the gospel proclaimed in an evangelical church. (statistics taken from NAMB). 

Will Our Laws Hurt Our Christianity?

As I was reading Jonathan Merritt’s post on The Atlantic today I couldn’t help but be faced with the gruesome reality of what we are facing as a Christian community. His article – if you didn’t read it – paints a picture of the laws conservative Christians are supporting eventually being used against us. And this is true. I think he’s right to say that someday somehow laws that are made to protect religious freedoms will, in fact, be used against the ones excited about their possible implementation (even though most of them have failed).

Being a former pastor now professional Tweeter (yea, I’m a tweeter on the Tweeter) I understand the desire to protect the church. I’ve had difficult conversations with people telling them that for the safety of the church they’d have to leave. So here, in this argument of laws initially being in support of religion turning on religion my first thought is how to protect the church? But what about what the Bible says?

Are the authority of Scripture and the possible passing of these laws at odds? If they’re not then are we to protect the Church from the threat of possible future persecution or are we to obey what the Bible says? (For the sake of this post let’s say the laws and Scripture are not at odds – even though may be.)

So what do we, as Bible believing Christians, do when a current biblical trend could possibly be dangerous, and even harmful, for the church?

I really think answering this should be hard for us. In essence become the enemy of the Church, the Bride of Christ, the one for whom he died in order to pass a law that is biblical? Or protect the Bride of Christ from the Law of Land based out of the Word of God?

The trends and poles are pointing to the loss of religious freedoms; I would add the loss of Christian religious freedoms. Dr. Ashford of Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary spoke last Monday at an evangelism conference for North Carolina Baptists on the issue of suffering for our beliefs. Saying things like, “Pastors will go to prison for hate speech.”

So do we aim at passing laws affording us the freedom to speak on while others continue to gnaw away at the base of the church for they are free to do so? Or do we let hate speech become something we will often pay the penalty for? Do we protect the Church from the constant gnawing of her dissenters or do we see our own become our enemies and our leaders go to jail for speaking truth?

As hard as it is to see yourself become the ‘Church's enemy’ we must, as Christians, stick to the authority of Scripture. Not just because that’s what we believe but because that’s what makes us Christians. Yes, ultimately the gospel is what makes us Christians, but penultimately we must believe that God has revealed himself - and his gospel - in Scripture. So if, and when, in the future we are faced with the difficult choice of protecting the Church by deviating from Scripture or hurting the Church by clinging to Scripture we must, for we are bound by who we are, stay close to Scripture.

“Go back, go back to the ancient paths;

            Lash your heart to the ancient mast,

            And hold on, boy, whatever you do.

To the hope that’s taken hold of you,

            And you’ll find your way.

You’ll find your way;

            If love is what you’re looking for;

            The old roads lead to an open door,

            And you’ll find your way back home.” - Andrew Peterson

            

A Moment to Write

My professor, Dr. Greenham, spoke well against reincarnation. He said, “We are made to go on.”

Lewis says something similar. Something of how time is an odd thing and that because we view time as odd that this points to our not being made for the temporal but the eternal. That our terms of how, “Time has flown,” or how, “Time has slowed down to a crawl,” are hints at our eternality. We are not made for reflection or the entropy of reliving parts of life, no, we’re made to go on. Now and now and now, we’re made to go on and on and on, but never made to go back to how things once were. God himself will not return us to the Garden, he, rather, will create a city for our dwelling. Lewis does well to say, “Further up and further in.” For indeed this is what we are created for.

Something of this is freeing. Nostalgia seems such a happy place until compared to reality, then we spiral into the hope of how things were, never thinking of how things are let alone how things will be. But if creation longs to be made new (Rom 8) then ought’n we too? Should we not long for the consummation of all things in the enveloping arms of Christ the King? Yet here Lewis’ voice plays in my ears once more, “News from a country you’ve never visited… echoes of a tune you’ve not heard… the scent of a flower I’ve never smelled.” Indeed our longing for completion is evident in our nostalgia, but we cannot go backward to gain it, we must go on.

I’m finding more and more that I truly only know two things, that I am a great sinner and Jesus is a greater Savior (as Newton would say it). My feelings betray me. My heart is deceitful. My mind is a labyrinth of these's and those's, this’s and that’s. Even reality holds little to know, because I’m certain that just behind it’s frail curtain a war rages - a war of cherubim and seraphim fighting devils and demons - of light defeating darkness for the Dawn has come. There is comfort in seeing my ignorance.

Andrew Peterson has a song that has been capturing me, “Carry the Fire.” He sings, “We dream at night of city descending with the Son in the middle and a peace unending… Where joy writes the song and the innocent sing them…” The more I learn, the more those same two things are all I know. In some form or fashion all things are tied to the sinfulness of my soul and Christ’s redemption.

Sadly Sobering

Today was the first day of orientation for seminary - lots of beginnings and meeting new people and neat professors/VP fellas. In so many ways this has been the point I’d looked forward to so many years ago when I graduated high school.

I remember dreaming about becoming a pastor while cleaning the offices of the church my family went to, almost longing for the day to come when I could start seminary. Thinking I could make a case for them to let me in early without a bachelor’s degree (young and dumb). It was an exciting day, having those thoughts run through my brain from years ago.

But it was a sobering day.

As my wife and I got home, we went to check our mailbox. One of the cooks from my two-month table-waiting job who lives in our complex was there. I asked how things were going there… He stuttered and stumbled and choked on his words to say the chief killed himself on Monday.

I know that guy. I knew that guy. He smiled and helped me a ton… My fumbling, ignorant, naivety he forgave and would say, “Don’t worry about it, it happens,” with a compassionate smile. I can’t tell you how many times in those two months I felt forgiveness and kindness from that in the kitchen or how often I thought I could do my job confidently because there was a guy willing to be forgiving of my waitering faults.

All day long I heard about the weighty beauty of the studies to come. All night long I’ll think of the reality of death and absolute necessity the kindness of the gospel is for broken people. “A bruised reed he will not break and smoldering flax he will not quench.” “Come to me all who are heavy laden, for my burden is light and my yoke is easy.” “All things work together for the good of those who are called according to his purposes…”

This is why we do ministry. To minister - shepherd and serve - those who are destitute and afflicted, storm tossed and heavy laden, shattered and broken, depressed and despairing, to love those only Christ in us could love, to have compassion on the wounded and destitute.

This is what we proclaim: certain hope in the salvation of Jesus and the coming redemption of our frailties, the perfect man in the place of our imperfections, the grace of God and the mercy of our Lord.

This is a sadly-sobering day.