Power alignment
Commentary
Object:
Fred was a big man with a big heart. His life had been ringed with tragedy, but he had grown through it and chose to spend his last career years as a missionary in Africa. A few years later he was returned to our town near death. A brain tumor had suddenly appeared and quickly robbed him of speech and motor control. He was hospitalized for several weeks and then released to die at home.
We prayed for Fred. We shared the personal and family needs through a wide web of Christian contacts. We held specific healing services and added Fred's condition to our weekly prayer bulletin.
In spite of our best desires, we gradually became aware that only death would bring divine healing. Fred's life this side of eternity was too far destroyed for recovery.
I made regular visits to the small house that Fred's wife purchased. Mostly Fred lay in bed moaning and restless. While his muscles contorted horribly, his skin began to turn unhuman shades of gray. Several times the family members, scattered at some distance, were called together for what appeared to be "the end."
On one of these occasions I stood with them in a circle around Fred's bed. Fred was greatly agitated and moaned incomprehensibly. I read a Psalm and a promise from Paul, and then we prayed together, holding hands, asking God to take Fred home soon. It only seemed, however, that Fred's inner restlessness got worse. I stepped closer to the bed and placed my hand on his forehead. I spoke directly to him the blessing he himself had pronounced over God's people so many times: "The Lord bless you and keep you, Fred. The Lord make his face shine upon you. The Lord smile upon you and give you his peace" (Numbers 6:24-26).
Immediately Fred settled peacefully, his muscles relaxing and his labored breath easing. "You can go home now, Fred," I said. Each family member held Fred's hands briefly, speaking words of care release. I walked out of the house. Before I could drive away Fred slipped into eternity.
Did our prayers succeed? Did they fail? Where was the power alignment in this transaction?
Sometimes the power of heaven works through the medical industries of our culture, and sometimes works in spite of them. There is nothing in the Bible to call into question a Christian's use of doctors and prescription medications. But neither does the Bible tell us that doctors are the true great physician. However we might have wanted things to unfold, Fred was truly healed that day, and so was his family with him. Whenever healing happens, God has smiled. This is the message of power alignment in today's lectionary passages.
Esther 7:1-6, 9-10; 9:20-22
The book of Esther is one of the most fascinating tales ever written. Persian King Ahasuerus (otherwise known in extra-biblical literature as Xerxes, the son of Darius I and son-in-law of Cyrus the Great; he ruled from 485-465 BC) throws a kingdom-wide party. During the drunken carousing, he demands that Queen Vashti appear to be ogled. Vashti refuses, is deposed, and a replacement "Miss Universe" beauty pageant ensues with Esther, a Jew, crowned as winner.
Esther's cousin and guardian, Mordecai, discovers a plot to kill the king and passes the information along to Esther. Haman is made vice-ruler of the realm and grows angry with Mordecai, who will not bow to him. Haman maneuvers to get the king to sign an edict that will destroy Mordecai and his people.
Mordecai brings the matter to Esther, asking her to act on behalf of her people. Esther reluctantly begins the process of petition by holding a special banquet for Ahasuerus and Haman. Haman's antagonism with Mordecai grows, leading him to build a gallows on which to hang Mordecai.
In an ingenious plot twist, Ahasuerus finds out that Mordecai has never been rewarded for uncovering and revealing the assassination plot, so the king gets Haman to publicly honor Mordecai on his behalf. When Haman and Ahasuerus gather for Esther's second banquet, she reveals Haman's genocidal plan. In desperation, Haman pleads physically with Esther for his life, for which he is accused by Ahasuerus of attacking the queen. He is sentenced to die on his own gallows, built originally to wring the life out of Mordecai.
Haman's family is destroyed, his property given to Esther, and Mordecai is honored. Ahasuerus cannot revoke his previous edict, but he signs a new one allowing the Jews to fight back and to take the property of any who are their enemies. The Jews kill multitudes (75,800) on Adar 13-14, and celebrate the great victory on Adar 14-15. These festivities become an annual event known as Purim because Haman cast a pur ("lot") to find the right date for their planned annihilation. Mordecai becomes chief officer of the realm and does much good for his people.
A story this good needs to be told and retold and ought even to be put on stage and screen. But should it find its way into the Bible? For one thing, even if the name of God is never mentioned, it is obvious throughout that there is divine leading and providential care orchestrating all that happens. Esther prays and asks Mordecai to rally the Jews to fasting and prayer as well. Certainly the outcome is as miraculous as that of any story found in Exodus or Joshua.
Furthermore, the story's principal characters show how God can use anyone to accomplish divine purposes. Maybe Ahasuerus was pagan and childish and brutish, but it is God who guides international politics, just as the Jews believed about the edict of restoration issued by Ahasuerus' father-in-law Cyrus in 538 BC. Along with that, why should Mordecai be judged for the name his parents gave to him? Perhaps they were only trying to survive in exile. Certainly his actions show him to be a man of faith, a man of God. And who wants to tarnish Esther? She never does anything wrong in the story. She shows herself to be a devout woman, exuding graces that all girls should emulate. Perhaps, even, she had no choice in the matter of the beauty pageant and was forced, along with thousands of others, to participate against her will. Even her name is more closely related to Ister, which means "star," than it is to Istar. Her Hebrew name is Hadassah, and that means "myrtle," a plant used in Temple cleansing rituals. One might even say that Esther prefigures Jesus, for they both save their peoples through personal sacrifice.
Moreover, the historical details noted in the book, and even its use of language, make it very accurate to its times. Xerxes did indeed throw a huge party following his ignoble retreat from the battlefields of Greece. He had a harem of royal women and both Vashti and Esther might well have been among the unnamed companions of his bed and table. So too with Mordecai: not all government officials made their way into the court records. Even so, it is also true that that name Mordecai has been found among the archaeological relics of that time and place. Again, the details about the music and food at the party, and the locales about Susa, are precisely on target as representations of the times, as is the use of wording and terminology in the writing of the book itself.
Finally, the tale should not be quickly dismissed as having no worthy religious moral. Could it not focus attention on God's providential care that supersedes and trumps all human plans, especially when there is a threat to the community of faith? Might not the marvelous descriptions of Esther's character and actions motivate others to develop similar wonderful values and behaviors? Isn't it possible that Esther does, in fact, stand as a type of Christ, showing what it takes and what it means to give up personal security and high position for the sake of others? Even in a larger context, does not the entire drama restate the eternal struggle of good versus evil, and affirm the ultimate victory of that which is right? In this regard, the book of Esther may well serve as an allegory on the nature of divine-human love, just as Paul would later talk about the symbolic relationship between Christ and the church (Ephesians 5:22-32).
In addition, there might also be another way to look at the drama of Esther and suggest an alternative reason for its inclusion in the covenantally shaped literature of the Bible. This requires revisiting the chronology of the books of Ezra and Nehemiah:
539 -- Capture of Babylon by Medo-Persia (Daniel 5:30)
538 -- Cyrus' first year, "Homelands" edict (Ezra 1:1-4)
537 -- Return under Sheshbazzar and Zerubbabel (Altar rebuilt) (Ezra 2:1--3:7)
536 -- Work on temple begun (Ezra 3:8)
536-530 -- Opposition during Cyrus' reign (Ezra 4:1-5)
530-520 -- Work on temple ceased (Ezra 4:24)
520 -- Work on temple renewed under Darius (Ezra 5:2; Haggai 1:14)
516 -- Temple completed (Ezra 6:15)
515-458 -- Huge gap: no records!
458 (April 8-August 4) -- Ezra travels to Jerusalem (Ezra 7:8-9)
458 (December)-457 (March) -- Ezra calls an assembly and organizes a community assessment (Ezra 10:9-17)
457-445 -- Big gap again: no records!
445 -- Nehemiah travels to Jerusalem (Nehemiah 1-2)
445 -- City wall completed (Nehemiah 6), assemblies (Nehemiah 7), Feast of Tabernacles celebrated (Nehemiah 8), fast (Nehemiah 9)
432 -- Nehemiah goes back to Persia and returns (Nehemiah 13:6)
When does the story of Esther take place? Surprisingly, exactly in the huge historical gap between Ezra 6 and 7! Ezra 1-6 relates the initial modest return of a small number of Jewish exiles under the leadership of Zerubbabel and the rebuilding of a rather embarrassing temple. Ezra 7 picks up the recitation 57 years later, after the Jerusalem community has almost lost its way and will. Suddenly, out of nowhere and with no warning, Ezra and Nehemiah and a whole host of other Jews show up in Jerusalem and get the community back on the track. Why? Was it perhaps that the events explored in the book of Esther prodded the people back into action?
In reality, during the times of Esther Yahweh's people were in the wrong place. The decree to return to Palestine had been issued half a century before, but many Jews remained in Babylon and Persia because life was easier there. Even Mordecai's name may indicate that he and his family have capitulated to Babylonian and Persian cultural influences.
Esther and Mordecai are themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. Why would Mordecai, as guardian of his cousin, put her into a beauty pageant for a cruel and despotic ruler?
Through Mordecai's irritations of Haman, all Jews (including those who have returned to Palestine under Persian protection) are in danger of being destroyed. It is very likely that the sudden returns of Ezra and Nehemiah to Jerusalem to help rebuild the failing community may well have been precipitated by the crisis of near slaughter that shocked the Jewish community into action and challenged it to recover its roots, its homeland, its identity, and its religious commitments.
Perhaps the theological meaning of the book of Esther includes these ideas:
A word of warning to God's people who forget their identity, and live in the wrong places at the wrong times for the wrong reasons.
A word of comfort to God's people that the God of the covenant is still in control and still cares.
A word of encouragement that no matter where we find ourselves in life, we can make a difference.
James 5:13-20
A friend of mine teaches ethics at a Christian college. Several years ago there was a scare on campus because a student had been raped. Since my friend wanted his students to deal with actual ethical situations, he began the next class session with a question: "If a friend came to your room in tears, telling how her date had just raped her, what is the first thing you would do to help her?"
After a moment's reflective silence one student raised her hand and asked, tentatively, "Pray?"
The whole class broke out in laughter, relieved to have a spot of comic relief to ease the tension. Even my friend found himself smiling and shaking his head slightly. "Of course," he said, "but then what would you do?" For the next hour he led the gathering in an ethical discussion of social care for someone who had been deeply hurt.
When my friend got home that evening he reflected on the class session and began to grow restless. Why, at a Christian college, he thought, should the suggestion of helping someone by beginning with prayer be greeted with laughter? And why should even he, an ordained minister of the gospel and a Christian ethics professor, initially wave off the suggestion of prayer as simply a polite formality to be dispensed with before the real business of helping began? Why should prayer seem so insignificant and powerless?
These are important questions, for in spite of our pious talk we often treat prayer with apologetic skepticism. Does prayer help? Is it more an exercise in placating my uneasy conscience than it is a true "first aid"? I wonder.
Yet when I look back over my years of praying and being prayed over, I realize that there is also a larger picture to paint about prayer. For one thing, as Bishop William Temple said, "I don't know if prayer works, but I do know that when I stop praying, coincidences stop." So too I have found that truth in my life. Although I can't document every exact answer to prayer, I do know that unseen forces have often assisted me and those I've prayed with in ways beyond rational explanation. Even the medical community has recognized the healing power of prayer, as Dr. Lawrence Dossey has reported in several of his books.
Second, I think of the way that help comes best when we are children. I watched a young girl and boy collide while running through a hallway the other day, banging heads and falling backward onto the floor. Each was stunned momentarily, and then each looked around for a nearby parent. It wasn't until they spied caring mothers that each began a mighty and mournful wail. Not only that, but the crying from pain changed its tone when they each rested in the comfort of hugging arms -- wails that earlier seemed edged with torment became whimperings seeking sympathy. A big part of prayer, it seems from scripture, has to do with finding our way into the care of a Father, even when the hurts and pains of life still trouble us.
Third, I think that James is reminding us that we are not alone in the universe and that times of trouble are times of returning to our truest human condition of spiritual need. James does not promise that all our fortunes will change because a magical prayer has been offered. Rather, he indicates that precisely when we are so troubled the natural place for us to turn is outside of ourselves and to God. As M. Scott Peck put it in his powerful book A World Waiting to Be Born, either we know the truth of our spiritual need or we spend our lives playing games with ourselves and others that steal the best of who we are away from us.
Mark 9:38-50
It is interesting that the gospel reading begins with a note of confession. Confession helps us find ourselves. Dostoevsky explored our need to confess in his powerful novel Crime and Punishment. We all tempt fate, as Rodya did in that story, pretending that we can get away with stuff we know is harmful to ourselves or others. Rodya keeps his public masks in place, all the while shrinking and shriveling on the inside. When he finally confesses to Sonia, she tells him he must take it a step further and confess to the whole world. His soul needs to connect with his tongue, and his life has to come back together through confession.
Confession, as Jesus moves the conversation in this passage, helps us see God through the soiled tapestry of life. Walter Wangerin Jr. remembers throwing a stone as a boy and breaking a terribly expensive light. That night at supper Walter couldn't look his father in the face and hated it when his dad called him by name. It sounded like blasphemy to his ears. Whimpering in bed that night, Walter turned away from his father's blessings.
The next day, when the story would no longer hide, Walter stood before his father expecting the spanking he knew he deserved. So he was totally unprepared for what happened next -- his father knelt in front of him, hugged Walter like a precious treasure, and in his ear whispered over and over again the secret name only his father ever called him, "Ah-vee... Ah-vee... Ah-vee..."
In that moment, said Walter, "I saw the face of God." This is where Jesus wanted his disciples to be. Rather than separating ourselves from others, and in so doing causing little ones to stumble, we need to be looking toward heaven and aligning ourselves with the one who wants to gather all of us in a loving hug.
Application
In Hendrik Ibsen's famous drama Peer Gynt, the hero of the story tries to find the meaning of his life by traveling and interviewing others. At one point he visits an asylum where "lunatics" are kept. Their craziness, thinks Peer Gynt, must arise from the condition that they are, as he puts it, "outside themselves."
Not so, says the director of the asylum.
Outside themselves? Oh no, you're wrong.
It's here that men are most themselves --
Themselves and nothing but themselves --
Sailing with outspread sails of self.
Each shuts himself in a cask of self,
The cask stopped with a bung of self
And seasoned in a well of self.
None has a tear for others' woes
Or cares what any other thinks.
We are ourselves in thought and voice!
That is the tendency within each of us -- to become swallowed up with ourselves. Jesus' disciples certainly proved this, as did Esther and Mordecai in their earlier world. Perhaps it is for that very reason that James says the first sign of true mental and spiritual health is this: If anyone is in trouble he should pray.
An Alternative Application
James 5:13-20. In the context of exhortations about prayer, James points to the mighty pleadings of Elijah. Although Elijah was able to do many special and seemingly miraculous things, he is never portrayed as a wizard or some kind of superhuman figure. In fact, all of the miracles that happen when Elijah is around point only to God as the one who brings life and promotes healing. It is in this manner that James raises up Elijah as an example for us to follow when praying. Elijah wields no power; rather, he understands what God is all about, what God's goals for his world are, and where to find the imprint of his creative and restoring fingers.
Elijah understood the covenant stipulations that when God's people broke faith with God, he would withhold the needed rains until they finally came to their senses. Elijah was well-versed in the promises of God's covenant that he would make the world blossom for the good of his people when they trusted him. His prayers were not secret codes that moved the tumblers of heaven's resources vaults. Rather, his prayers were God's own speech become audible again in an age that had forgotten how to listen.
We often want prayer to be our magic potion that will force God to do our bidding. "Look to Elijah," James would caution us. "Pray like him!" No one can move the fingers of God until they have first absorbed his covenant and his character and his vision, struggling like Elijah to understand the mind of God and living in a way that has put God's priorities first.
We prayed for Fred. We shared the personal and family needs through a wide web of Christian contacts. We held specific healing services and added Fred's condition to our weekly prayer bulletin.
In spite of our best desires, we gradually became aware that only death would bring divine healing. Fred's life this side of eternity was too far destroyed for recovery.
I made regular visits to the small house that Fred's wife purchased. Mostly Fred lay in bed moaning and restless. While his muscles contorted horribly, his skin began to turn unhuman shades of gray. Several times the family members, scattered at some distance, were called together for what appeared to be "the end."
On one of these occasions I stood with them in a circle around Fred's bed. Fred was greatly agitated and moaned incomprehensibly. I read a Psalm and a promise from Paul, and then we prayed together, holding hands, asking God to take Fred home soon. It only seemed, however, that Fred's inner restlessness got worse. I stepped closer to the bed and placed my hand on his forehead. I spoke directly to him the blessing he himself had pronounced over God's people so many times: "The Lord bless you and keep you, Fred. The Lord make his face shine upon you. The Lord smile upon you and give you his peace" (Numbers 6:24-26).
Immediately Fred settled peacefully, his muscles relaxing and his labored breath easing. "You can go home now, Fred," I said. Each family member held Fred's hands briefly, speaking words of care release. I walked out of the house. Before I could drive away Fred slipped into eternity.
Did our prayers succeed? Did they fail? Where was the power alignment in this transaction?
Sometimes the power of heaven works through the medical industries of our culture, and sometimes works in spite of them. There is nothing in the Bible to call into question a Christian's use of doctors and prescription medications. But neither does the Bible tell us that doctors are the true great physician. However we might have wanted things to unfold, Fred was truly healed that day, and so was his family with him. Whenever healing happens, God has smiled. This is the message of power alignment in today's lectionary passages.
Esther 7:1-6, 9-10; 9:20-22
The book of Esther is one of the most fascinating tales ever written. Persian King Ahasuerus (otherwise known in extra-biblical literature as Xerxes, the son of Darius I and son-in-law of Cyrus the Great; he ruled from 485-465 BC) throws a kingdom-wide party. During the drunken carousing, he demands that Queen Vashti appear to be ogled. Vashti refuses, is deposed, and a replacement "Miss Universe" beauty pageant ensues with Esther, a Jew, crowned as winner.
Esther's cousin and guardian, Mordecai, discovers a plot to kill the king and passes the information along to Esther. Haman is made vice-ruler of the realm and grows angry with Mordecai, who will not bow to him. Haman maneuvers to get the king to sign an edict that will destroy Mordecai and his people.
Mordecai brings the matter to Esther, asking her to act on behalf of her people. Esther reluctantly begins the process of petition by holding a special banquet for Ahasuerus and Haman. Haman's antagonism with Mordecai grows, leading him to build a gallows on which to hang Mordecai.
In an ingenious plot twist, Ahasuerus finds out that Mordecai has never been rewarded for uncovering and revealing the assassination plot, so the king gets Haman to publicly honor Mordecai on his behalf. When Haman and Ahasuerus gather for Esther's second banquet, she reveals Haman's genocidal plan. In desperation, Haman pleads physically with Esther for his life, for which he is accused by Ahasuerus of attacking the queen. He is sentenced to die on his own gallows, built originally to wring the life out of Mordecai.
Haman's family is destroyed, his property given to Esther, and Mordecai is honored. Ahasuerus cannot revoke his previous edict, but he signs a new one allowing the Jews to fight back and to take the property of any who are their enemies. The Jews kill multitudes (75,800) on Adar 13-14, and celebrate the great victory on Adar 14-15. These festivities become an annual event known as Purim because Haman cast a pur ("lot") to find the right date for their planned annihilation. Mordecai becomes chief officer of the realm and does much good for his people.
A story this good needs to be told and retold and ought even to be put on stage and screen. But should it find its way into the Bible? For one thing, even if the name of God is never mentioned, it is obvious throughout that there is divine leading and providential care orchestrating all that happens. Esther prays and asks Mordecai to rally the Jews to fasting and prayer as well. Certainly the outcome is as miraculous as that of any story found in Exodus or Joshua.
Furthermore, the story's principal characters show how God can use anyone to accomplish divine purposes. Maybe Ahasuerus was pagan and childish and brutish, but it is God who guides international politics, just as the Jews believed about the edict of restoration issued by Ahasuerus' father-in-law Cyrus in 538 BC. Along with that, why should Mordecai be judged for the name his parents gave to him? Perhaps they were only trying to survive in exile. Certainly his actions show him to be a man of faith, a man of God. And who wants to tarnish Esther? She never does anything wrong in the story. She shows herself to be a devout woman, exuding graces that all girls should emulate. Perhaps, even, she had no choice in the matter of the beauty pageant and was forced, along with thousands of others, to participate against her will. Even her name is more closely related to Ister, which means "star," than it is to Istar. Her Hebrew name is Hadassah, and that means "myrtle," a plant used in Temple cleansing rituals. One might even say that Esther prefigures Jesus, for they both save their peoples through personal sacrifice.
Moreover, the historical details noted in the book, and even its use of language, make it very accurate to its times. Xerxes did indeed throw a huge party following his ignoble retreat from the battlefields of Greece. He had a harem of royal women and both Vashti and Esther might well have been among the unnamed companions of his bed and table. So too with Mordecai: not all government officials made their way into the court records. Even so, it is also true that that name Mordecai has been found among the archaeological relics of that time and place. Again, the details about the music and food at the party, and the locales about Susa, are precisely on target as representations of the times, as is the use of wording and terminology in the writing of the book itself.
Finally, the tale should not be quickly dismissed as having no worthy religious moral. Could it not focus attention on God's providential care that supersedes and trumps all human plans, especially when there is a threat to the community of faith? Might not the marvelous descriptions of Esther's character and actions motivate others to develop similar wonderful values and behaviors? Isn't it possible that Esther does, in fact, stand as a type of Christ, showing what it takes and what it means to give up personal security and high position for the sake of others? Even in a larger context, does not the entire drama restate the eternal struggle of good versus evil, and affirm the ultimate victory of that which is right? In this regard, the book of Esther may well serve as an allegory on the nature of divine-human love, just as Paul would later talk about the symbolic relationship between Christ and the church (Ephesians 5:22-32).
In addition, there might also be another way to look at the drama of Esther and suggest an alternative reason for its inclusion in the covenantally shaped literature of the Bible. This requires revisiting the chronology of the books of Ezra and Nehemiah:
539 -- Capture of Babylon by Medo-Persia (Daniel 5:30)
538 -- Cyrus' first year, "Homelands" edict (Ezra 1:1-4)
537 -- Return under Sheshbazzar and Zerubbabel (Altar rebuilt) (Ezra 2:1--3:7)
536 -- Work on temple begun (Ezra 3:8)
536-530 -- Opposition during Cyrus' reign (Ezra 4:1-5)
530-520 -- Work on temple ceased (Ezra 4:24)
520 -- Work on temple renewed under Darius (Ezra 5:2; Haggai 1:14)
516 -- Temple completed (Ezra 6:15)
515-458 -- Huge gap: no records!
458 (April 8-August 4) -- Ezra travels to Jerusalem (Ezra 7:8-9)
458 (December)-457 (March) -- Ezra calls an assembly and organizes a community assessment (Ezra 10:9-17)
457-445 -- Big gap again: no records!
445 -- Nehemiah travels to Jerusalem (Nehemiah 1-2)
445 -- City wall completed (Nehemiah 6), assemblies (Nehemiah 7), Feast of Tabernacles celebrated (Nehemiah 8), fast (Nehemiah 9)
432 -- Nehemiah goes back to Persia and returns (Nehemiah 13:6)
When does the story of Esther take place? Surprisingly, exactly in the huge historical gap between Ezra 6 and 7! Ezra 1-6 relates the initial modest return of a small number of Jewish exiles under the leadership of Zerubbabel and the rebuilding of a rather embarrassing temple. Ezra 7 picks up the recitation 57 years later, after the Jerusalem community has almost lost its way and will. Suddenly, out of nowhere and with no warning, Ezra and Nehemiah and a whole host of other Jews show up in Jerusalem and get the community back on the track. Why? Was it perhaps that the events explored in the book of Esther prodded the people back into action?
In reality, during the times of Esther Yahweh's people were in the wrong place. The decree to return to Palestine had been issued half a century before, but many Jews remained in Babylon and Persia because life was easier there. Even Mordecai's name may indicate that he and his family have capitulated to Babylonian and Persian cultural influences.
Esther and Mordecai are themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. Why would Mordecai, as guardian of his cousin, put her into a beauty pageant for a cruel and despotic ruler?
Through Mordecai's irritations of Haman, all Jews (including those who have returned to Palestine under Persian protection) are in danger of being destroyed. It is very likely that the sudden returns of Ezra and Nehemiah to Jerusalem to help rebuild the failing community may well have been precipitated by the crisis of near slaughter that shocked the Jewish community into action and challenged it to recover its roots, its homeland, its identity, and its religious commitments.
Perhaps the theological meaning of the book of Esther includes these ideas:
A word of warning to God's people who forget their identity, and live in the wrong places at the wrong times for the wrong reasons.
A word of comfort to God's people that the God of the covenant is still in control and still cares.
A word of encouragement that no matter where we find ourselves in life, we can make a difference.
James 5:13-20
A friend of mine teaches ethics at a Christian college. Several years ago there was a scare on campus because a student had been raped. Since my friend wanted his students to deal with actual ethical situations, he began the next class session with a question: "If a friend came to your room in tears, telling how her date had just raped her, what is the first thing you would do to help her?"
After a moment's reflective silence one student raised her hand and asked, tentatively, "Pray?"
The whole class broke out in laughter, relieved to have a spot of comic relief to ease the tension. Even my friend found himself smiling and shaking his head slightly. "Of course," he said, "but then what would you do?" For the next hour he led the gathering in an ethical discussion of social care for someone who had been deeply hurt.
When my friend got home that evening he reflected on the class session and began to grow restless. Why, at a Christian college, he thought, should the suggestion of helping someone by beginning with prayer be greeted with laughter? And why should even he, an ordained minister of the gospel and a Christian ethics professor, initially wave off the suggestion of prayer as simply a polite formality to be dispensed with before the real business of helping began? Why should prayer seem so insignificant and powerless?
These are important questions, for in spite of our pious talk we often treat prayer with apologetic skepticism. Does prayer help? Is it more an exercise in placating my uneasy conscience than it is a true "first aid"? I wonder.
Yet when I look back over my years of praying and being prayed over, I realize that there is also a larger picture to paint about prayer. For one thing, as Bishop William Temple said, "I don't know if prayer works, but I do know that when I stop praying, coincidences stop." So too I have found that truth in my life. Although I can't document every exact answer to prayer, I do know that unseen forces have often assisted me and those I've prayed with in ways beyond rational explanation. Even the medical community has recognized the healing power of prayer, as Dr. Lawrence Dossey has reported in several of his books.
Second, I think of the way that help comes best when we are children. I watched a young girl and boy collide while running through a hallway the other day, banging heads and falling backward onto the floor. Each was stunned momentarily, and then each looked around for a nearby parent. It wasn't until they spied caring mothers that each began a mighty and mournful wail. Not only that, but the crying from pain changed its tone when they each rested in the comfort of hugging arms -- wails that earlier seemed edged with torment became whimperings seeking sympathy. A big part of prayer, it seems from scripture, has to do with finding our way into the care of a Father, even when the hurts and pains of life still trouble us.
Third, I think that James is reminding us that we are not alone in the universe and that times of trouble are times of returning to our truest human condition of spiritual need. James does not promise that all our fortunes will change because a magical prayer has been offered. Rather, he indicates that precisely when we are so troubled the natural place for us to turn is outside of ourselves and to God. As M. Scott Peck put it in his powerful book A World Waiting to Be Born, either we know the truth of our spiritual need or we spend our lives playing games with ourselves and others that steal the best of who we are away from us.
Mark 9:38-50
It is interesting that the gospel reading begins with a note of confession. Confession helps us find ourselves. Dostoevsky explored our need to confess in his powerful novel Crime and Punishment. We all tempt fate, as Rodya did in that story, pretending that we can get away with stuff we know is harmful to ourselves or others. Rodya keeps his public masks in place, all the while shrinking and shriveling on the inside. When he finally confesses to Sonia, she tells him he must take it a step further and confess to the whole world. His soul needs to connect with his tongue, and his life has to come back together through confession.
Confession, as Jesus moves the conversation in this passage, helps us see God through the soiled tapestry of life. Walter Wangerin Jr. remembers throwing a stone as a boy and breaking a terribly expensive light. That night at supper Walter couldn't look his father in the face and hated it when his dad called him by name. It sounded like blasphemy to his ears. Whimpering in bed that night, Walter turned away from his father's blessings.
The next day, when the story would no longer hide, Walter stood before his father expecting the spanking he knew he deserved. So he was totally unprepared for what happened next -- his father knelt in front of him, hugged Walter like a precious treasure, and in his ear whispered over and over again the secret name only his father ever called him, "Ah-vee... Ah-vee... Ah-vee..."
In that moment, said Walter, "I saw the face of God." This is where Jesus wanted his disciples to be. Rather than separating ourselves from others, and in so doing causing little ones to stumble, we need to be looking toward heaven and aligning ourselves with the one who wants to gather all of us in a loving hug.
Application
In Hendrik Ibsen's famous drama Peer Gynt, the hero of the story tries to find the meaning of his life by traveling and interviewing others. At one point he visits an asylum where "lunatics" are kept. Their craziness, thinks Peer Gynt, must arise from the condition that they are, as he puts it, "outside themselves."
Not so, says the director of the asylum.
Outside themselves? Oh no, you're wrong.
It's here that men are most themselves --
Themselves and nothing but themselves --
Sailing with outspread sails of self.
Each shuts himself in a cask of self,
The cask stopped with a bung of self
And seasoned in a well of self.
None has a tear for others' woes
Or cares what any other thinks.
We are ourselves in thought and voice!
That is the tendency within each of us -- to become swallowed up with ourselves. Jesus' disciples certainly proved this, as did Esther and Mordecai in their earlier world. Perhaps it is for that very reason that James says the first sign of true mental and spiritual health is this: If anyone is in trouble he should pray.
An Alternative Application
James 5:13-20. In the context of exhortations about prayer, James points to the mighty pleadings of Elijah. Although Elijah was able to do many special and seemingly miraculous things, he is never portrayed as a wizard or some kind of superhuman figure. In fact, all of the miracles that happen when Elijah is around point only to God as the one who brings life and promotes healing. It is in this manner that James raises up Elijah as an example for us to follow when praying. Elijah wields no power; rather, he understands what God is all about, what God's goals for his world are, and where to find the imprint of his creative and restoring fingers.
Elijah understood the covenant stipulations that when God's people broke faith with God, he would withhold the needed rains until they finally came to their senses. Elijah was well-versed in the promises of God's covenant that he would make the world blossom for the good of his people when they trusted him. His prayers were not secret codes that moved the tumblers of heaven's resources vaults. Rather, his prayers were God's own speech become audible again in an age that had forgotten how to listen.
We often want prayer to be our magic potion that will force God to do our bidding. "Look to Elijah," James would caution us. "Pray like him!" No one can move the fingers of God until they have first absorbed his covenant and his character and his vision, struggling like Elijah to understand the mind of God and living in a way that has put God's priorities first.
