My friend Peter Kirk has a good post over at Gentle Wisdom entitled ‘Should All Christians Speak in Tongues?’ He has some good things to say about the experience of being filled with the Holy Spirit, the place that ‘speaking in tongues’ has had in that for some people, and so on. He seems to have touched a nerve, as the comments are quite lively. This is evidence for me of the hunger people have for a genuine experience of God rather than for more and more theories.
One thing Peter mentions is that his church, Meadgate Church, which apparently is a lively charismatic Anglican church near Chelmsford (not far from my old home of Southminster), makes a practice of praying for people to be filled with the Holy Spirit. I found this a very challenging comment, because, for one reason or another, I do not make this a practice in my own ministry. I realised as I was reading scripture and praying this morning that over the years I have probably allowed my faith to fall into routine too much. I’ve more or less stopped expecting the Holy Spirit to surprise me.
But there’s actually more to it than that. A few years ago when I was at Regent College on a pastors’ workshop I had an ‘epiphany moment’ that I haven’t especially done anything about. We were in an evening group, praying for one another, and God started to give people words of knowledge about other people in the group. The ‘words’ were very concrete and specific, and one after another, other people in the group (unknown to the speakers) said, ‘That’s me – that word is for me’. This led to prayer and the laying on of hands. It was obvious that God was touching the lives of people in a deep and wonderful way that night.
But I was bothered by this, and went back to my room wrestling with why that might be the case. As I thought and prayed about it, I didn’t like the answer I was getting. It wasn’t just the obvious potential for abuse (one had heard so many stories of people who pretend to have a ‘word from the Lord’ which turns out to be nothing of the kind). No, I realised that down below all the superficial reasons for my discomfort was a much more basic reason: fear. I’m afraid to step out in faith and trust God. I’m much more comfortable with activities in which I can depend on my own skill. I’m a pretty good preacher (I flatter myself), but, sad to say, I almost don’t need to depend on God for that activity. So I’ve emphasized the teaching and preaching aspects of my ministry, and played down as much as I can those activities in which I would have to depend on God – praying for healing for instance. Why? Because I’m afraid he won’t come through for me, and I’m afraid of what that might do, both for my faith and for the faith of those with whom I’m praying.
Funnily enough, at that week at Regent there was a little Iona Community song that was being sung over and over again; it goes like this:
I came home from that conference with the thought that I needed to work on this issue of faith and fear, but I find I haven’t done that. Reflecting on my own story as I did in my earlier post, and reading what Peter has to say (and also the comments of others), have served to bring all this to the forefront again for me. I know I need to pray about it, and to take the risk of stepping out in faith and trusting that God will indeed come through for me.
One thing Peter mentions is that his church, Meadgate Church, which apparently is a lively charismatic Anglican church near Chelmsford (not far from my old home of Southminster), makes a practice of praying for people to be filled with the Holy Spirit. I found this a very challenging comment, because, for one reason or another, I do not make this a practice in my own ministry. I realised as I was reading scripture and praying this morning that over the years I have probably allowed my faith to fall into routine too much. I’ve more or less stopped expecting the Holy Spirit to surprise me.
But there’s actually more to it than that. A few years ago when I was at Regent College on a pastors’ workshop I had an ‘epiphany moment’ that I haven’t especially done anything about. We were in an evening group, praying for one another, and God started to give people words of knowledge about other people in the group. The ‘words’ were very concrete and specific, and one after another, other people in the group (unknown to the speakers) said, ‘That’s me – that word is for me’. This led to prayer and the laying on of hands. It was obvious that God was touching the lives of people in a deep and wonderful way that night.
But I was bothered by this, and went back to my room wrestling with why that might be the case. As I thought and prayed about it, I didn’t like the answer I was getting. It wasn’t just the obvious potential for abuse (one had heard so many stories of people who pretend to have a ‘word from the Lord’ which turns out to be nothing of the kind). No, I realised that down below all the superficial reasons for my discomfort was a much more basic reason: fear. I’m afraid to step out in faith and trust God. I’m much more comfortable with activities in which I can depend on my own skill. I’m a pretty good preacher (I flatter myself), but, sad to say, I almost don’t need to depend on God for that activity. So I’ve emphasized the teaching and preaching aspects of my ministry, and played down as much as I can those activities in which I would have to depend on God – praying for healing for instance. Why? Because I’m afraid he won’t come through for me, and I’m afraid of what that might do, both for my faith and for the faith of those with whom I’m praying.
Funnily enough, at that week at Regent there was a little Iona Community song that was being sung over and over again; it goes like this:
Don't be afraid, my love is stronger,You’d almost think God was trying to tell me something!
My love is stronger than your fear.
Don't be afraid, my love is stronger,
And I have promised to be always near.
I came home from that conference with the thought that I needed to work on this issue of faith and fear, but I find I haven’t done that. Reflecting on my own story as I did in my earlier post, and reading what Peter has to say (and also the comments of others), have served to bring all this to the forefront again for me. I know I need to pray about it, and to take the risk of stepping out in faith and trusting that God will indeed come through for me.
8 comments:
Good post, I think a lot of us deal with fear of loss of control but thankfully the Holy Spirit is better at control than we are, no?
I think one can be perfectly sane and not weird and still be charismatic/pentecostal - I hope the we can be a church here on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon where those who come here have some encounter with the Holy Spirit in some way while they are here (either as seasonal workers or other).
It is just such a life changer and something that empowers people to overcome many problems in life (not problem free to be sure - but the ability to work through them in healthy ways that they may not have been able to do before).
Interesting - I read your testament post and thought we were coming at things from poles apart, and I read this and think we are running closely parallel!!
Hi Tim,
Thanks for sharing this. I do not have any experience with speaking in tongues so it is interesting to read your posting on it. It's good to be exposed to a broader range of religious experience than any one person's. It can help us look beyond our own limited range and personal comfort zone. And so many decisions boil down to a choice between fear and faith.
So I’ve emphasized the teaching and preaching aspects of my ministry, and played down as much as I can those activities in which I would have to depend on God – praying for healing for instance. Why? Because I’m afraid he won’t come through for me, and I’m afraid of what that might do, both for my faith and for the faith of those with whom I’m praying.
This is why I don't pray for specific outcomes. Call me heretical, but I will not believe in a God who could heal people and chooses not to. I simply cannot find it in me to believe that there is some Divine "tapestry" that I cannot see, which demands that God allow little children to die of brain tumors, or thousands to perish because of natural disasters.
I guess, in some sense, I am a Deist---I believe that God set the rules of the universe in motion, and gave us free will. To preserve the integrity of creation, God cannot interfere in what happens now.
But God can come to us if we call. God can show up in the guise of our family, our neighbors, or even total strangers who see our cries for help over the Internet and pray for and with us.
Now I pray only for peace, comfort and strength for those who need it. Because I know for a fact that God can and does grant those. Quite often "in person."
Pax,
Doxy
Thanks for dropping by, Doxy. You won't be surprised to discover that I disagree with you.
In granting 'peace, comfort and strength to those who need it' in answer to your prayers, is God not ignoring the millions of others who need 'peace, comfort, and strength' and either do not pray or have no one to pray for them?
Your God is still selectively interfering, he's just doing it in a different way.
I think the only way you can be consistent is to ask absolutely nothing of God. But I don't find this lines up very well with the teaching of Jesus about prayer.
In granting 'peace, comfort and strength to those who need it' in answer to your prayers, is God not ignoring the millions of others who need 'peace, comfort, and strength' and either do not pray or have no one to pray for them?
No, I don't think God EVER ignores us. I think God is always there, offering those things--almost pleading with us to take them.
Maybe what I should have said is that I pray that we are open to God's offers. That we can find a way to recognize God's presence, even in our darkest hours.
I think that prayer is ultimately about ME, not about God. Because I believe that God is never absent from us, though we often fail to perceive God's presence because of too much "interference" from this broken creation.
The trick is remaining open to God's presence...a Presence I believe to be one of love, mercy, and grace. Always.
What do you do with "failed" prayers, Tim? What do you do when you are faced with parents whose child has succumbed to a fatal illness? What do you say when someone's beloved family member has to be taken off the ventilator?
Do you tell them that their loved one's suffering/death is "God's will"?
I know it will sound as if I'm setting you up by asking that question, but I don't mean to. I ask to understand how you understand the power of prayer.
Pax,
Doxy
I came across your blog via Peter Kirk's, and really enjoyed this specific post of yours. Keep up the good work :-)
Thanks for dropping by, Rhea.
Doxy, I'm as baffled by the mystery of unanswered prayer as anyone else. I know this is a broken world and that for some reason some things don't get fixed.
But I find the Deist solution problematic too, because to me it seems to go against the whole biblical story, which is all about a God who intervenes in history - all through the story of Israel, and supremely, in coming among us in Jesus. And we are specifically told by Jesus to ask for things. He himself asked for things (although he didn't always get the answer he wanted), and so did the early Christians.
Furthermore, some specific prayers are answered - sometimes in dramatic ways. So the story isn't entirely one of failure.
It's a mystery and I'm not in charge. The Gospel says God is a wise parent and I'm a dependent child. Dependent children don't always get what they ask for. But it would be a sad day if they stopped asking.
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