"I'll pray for you" part 2

“I’ll pray for you.”

Yesterday, I considered the statement “I’ll pray for you.” We say it. Yet too frequently we don’t follow through. I suggested that we make and then break this commitment for a variety of reasons: perhaps the words were never truly meant; perhaps it was merely the platitude we felt we should say; perhaps it was well intentioned but quickly forgotten by the press of other things; perhaps we simply never have put a plan in effect to pray for these things.

Today, I would like to offer a few suggestions for how you might (for how I might) get better at this, so that my ‘yes’ will be ‘yes’ when I say, “I’ll pray for you.”

Pray in the moment. When someone comes to you with a prayer request, or when someone is relating their circumstances and you feel that this is something that should be prayed for, pray. Just pray. Rather than offering a commitment to prayer in the future, pray at that very time. In most (all?) circumstances where you would feel it appropriate to say, “I’ll pray for you,” it would also be appropriate to pray immediately. If the person sharing the prayer concern is unable to pray at the time, or uncomfortable with it, then pray immediately after the conversation. So, instead of “I’ll pray for you,” try out the phrase, “Let’s pray about this right now.”

Commit to praying for a specific time. When you tell someone “I’ll pray for you,” this is often an open-ended statement. When will you pray? How much will you pray? How often will you pray? How many times will you pray? None of these are specified or in any way clear. Wouldn’t it be better to commit to praying for a specific period of time? “I’ll pray for you this week.” “I’ll pray for you these next few days.” Even if you don’t divulge the specifics to the individual, but keep the time limit to yourself, by the very act of setting a specific time on it you are more likely to do it.

Commit to praying at a specific time. This works best if the prayer request is time specific or if you have a regularly scheduled prayer time, whether alone or with others. When the request is time specific (e.g. a surgery on Thursday), then you can commit to praying on that Thursday. Once again, the more specific you are in your commitment, the more likely you are to follow through. Or, also, if you have a time regularly set aside for prayer, then you can commit “I’ll pray for that at the prayer meeting on Wednesday.”

Use technology to your advantage. If you use a digital calendar, or a task management software, you can set up reminders for yourself. I’m new at this, and trying to figure out what the best way will be for me, but I know that these tools can be used for good. If you have advice, let me know.

Encourage people when you pray. Instead of offering the encouragement that you will pray, especially if your follow through is limited like most of us, encourage people when you pray for them. If someone has come to you with a request on a Sunday, and you pray about it on Wednesday, consider sending them a text message, or a Facebook message, or something else. Don’t feel the need to do this with everyone, or every time you pray, but on occasion simply tell people “I prayed for you today.” The specificity of the comment adds weight and encouragement.

What other ways can we get better at following through on our prayer commitments? Do you have any suggestions or strategies?

"I'll pray for you"

“I’ll pray for you.”

How often have we uttered those words? How frequently do we assure someone of our prayers, encourage them with a commitment to present this request to God? How commonly—dare I ask this?—do we fail to follow through on this simple, four word statement?

At our staff meeting yesterday, Shane gave a devotional on Matt 5:33-37, focusing on the last verse. NIV: “Simply let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No,’ ‘No’; anything beyond this comes from the evil one. Shane stressed the importance of truthful speech, and emphasized that following through with our commitments is one crucial aspect of this. He related how, in the course of building his house, some contractors would commit to doing something by a deadline, but would then prefer to do bigger money projects first, pushing Shane back. Thinking about this, I noted that one of the ways that we frequently fail to keep our word is by stating we will pray, and then not doing so. I’d like to reflect today on why we do this, and then tomorrow suggest how we might do better.

Why do we do this?

I think we can safely assume that we’re not offering to pray and then failing to follow through out of an evil intention. We’re not deliberately misleading people. We’re not trying to be deceptive. So why do we do this? Why do we make the commitment? Why do we break our commitment?

Why do we make the commitment? I believe we often make the commitment with good intentions. We honestly recognize that the given situation should be prayed for, and we want to do that. We acknowledge that we have a Christian duty to pray, and we want to fulfill it. We have also heard enough other Christians say it that we know we should say it. And there are times when someone asks us to pray for them, and so we say we will.

Why do we break the commitment? Can I suggest that one reason is that we never really intended to keep it in the first place? That we said it because we’re supposed to say it, but we never had any plan to follow through? Is that too painful, too direct, to admit?

Assuming better intentions, what reasons might there be for breaking our commitment? I think most of us don’t have any system of keeping track of prayer requests or prayer commitments. We say “I’ll pray for you,” and then go back to watching the news, cooking dinner, talking with whoever may be next, reading an article, etc. In a few minutes, we’ve forgotten our commitment. Perhaps in a couple of days, we’ll remember, feel a twinge of guilt for not praying, offer up a 30 second prayer, and assuage our guilty conscience. We don’t purposefully and deliberately plan to pray, and the result is that we don’t pray. Come back tomorrow and I’ll offer some suggestions to improve this.

What do you think? Is this something you struggle with? Is this a common problem? Why do we do this?

What Hath Ferguson to Do With Meadow Lake?

What hath Ferguson to do with Meadow Lake?

Ferguson, Missouri, is a place of turmoil and rage these days. And the anger and resentment and bitterness is not just in Ferguson, but throughout the United States and beyond. Some of it has been justified, some not. Some of the actions taken and the words spoken or written have been justified, some not. Perhaps no more needs to be said about Ferguson, because seemingly every possible position has already been articulated, probably by better spokepersons than I. Yet, I want to address Ferguson, not just from the perspective of a US citizen, not just from the perspective of a white male with all the accompanying cultural benefits and baggage, not just from the perspective of a pastor, but from the perspective of a pastor in a small, northern city in Saskatchewan, a city with its own ethnic mix and challenges. Hence the title: What hath Ferguson to do with Meadow Lake? (HT: Tertullian, c. AD 160 – c. AD 225)

For those who are not familiar with the story of Ferguson, here are some basic details. On 9 August 2014, Officer Darren Wilson, 28, was on patrol and asked Michael Brown, 18, and his friend Dorian Johnson to move onto the sidewalk. An altercation ensued, Brown struggling with Wilson through the window of Wilson’s police car. Wilson fired his gun, and Brown fled. What happened next is open to dispute and the witnesses disagree. What is not disputed is that Brown was hit six times, and died from his wounds. On 24 November 2014, this last Monday, a grand jury declined to indict Officer Darren Wilson. Chaos and riots broke out in Ferguson, and many took to social media and other media outlets to express outrage.

From the beginning, this story achieved notoriety. For some, this was clearly and undeniably another example of white-on-black killing, even and especially blue-on-black killing; the white police officer must necessarily be in the wrong and have acted from racist motives. For others, Ferguson was another example of the outrage machine, fueled by ‘unbiased’ media and social networks; the officer must be innocent. Quickly, various sides picked the facts or reports that fit their preferred narrative, and dismissed any alternatives. Some of my friends, whom I love and respect, seemingly believed that Officer Wilson must be punished, let the facts be damned. Others were quick to assign blame to Michael Brown, as being the aggressor.

As a white male, in and from the middle class, I have not had the experience of being a threatened minority. When I see the police, I assume the best. I know from my African-American friends and from those whom I have read, that this is tragically not their experience. When they see the police, they expect suspicion and even aggression. A former Starbuck co-worker was pulled over for DWB (Driving While Black); official reason: his music was too loud. When these dear brothers see the images of Ferguson, they immediately remember many, many other instances of blacks being killed for being black. This necessarily affects them. I am sorry for the sins of my culture and my heritage, and for the way too many whites are indifferent and callous toward the hurt.

But what does all this have to do with Meadow Lake? Here, things are different, but oh! so much the same. We don’t have a large black population with a history of slavery. But we do have a large aboriginal population with a history of injustice. And they have great grievances. Promises made and broken. Children abducted from parents to be raised in a residential school system, which was far too often abusive. Saskatoon police who dropped natives off outside of the city to freeze. The large numbers of missing and abducted and murdered aboriginal women. It is easy for whites like me to dismiss some of these things. They didn’t affect the people around me directly, we tell ourselves. Why can’t they let these things go? we ask ourselves.

To my aboriginal friends and neighbors and brothers and sisters in Christ, I am sorry. I am sorry for how you have been treated, and I am sorry for how frequently your thoughts are dismissed.

To my fellow whites: Will you join me in seeking justice and peace? Will you be quicker to listen and slower to speak? Will you be willing to listen without speaking? Hear their words, and listen intently to their message. Seek out people who are not like you. Choose to care, rather than to dismiss.

Where Have All the Good Men Gone?

Where have all the good men gone?

Why is it that we wake up, day by day, only to hear again, to discover again, to be reminded again and again, that many men have abused their power, their position, and abused and degraded women?

How can we hear about Bill Cosby, the respected father figure and celebrated comedian, now facing numerous allegations of sexual assault, and not be outraged? And, of course, he is not alone. Here in Canada, the CBC radio host Jian Ghomeshi has been revealed to be a violent sexual predator. It is affluent men and poor men, conservatives and liberals, religious and irreligious. Time and again, over and over, we are reminded of the horrible ways that men treat women.

And yes, there is plenty of blame to share. When nudity is a publicity stunt, when Hollywood actresses bare all and are rewarded by awards, when sexting is a common phenomenon, there is plenty of guilt to go around. But right now, I want to focus on men.

Where have all the good men gone?

I don’t know. Maybe there never were as many as we imagine. Maybe the rise of sexual liberation coupled with the decline of chivalry explains it. Maybe the declining Christian influence in our culture helps explain the rise of this behavior. Maybe the empowerment of women with the accompanying larger public voice has simply done a better job of revealing the horrible problem of sexual abuse.

Where have all the good men gone?

I don’t know. But I do know where good men can be made again. We’re not going to accomplish it by creating affirmative consent laws. We’re not going to accomplish it by exposing to ridicule or public disgrace those who act horrifically. Not by empowering women. Not by issuing renewed calls to chivalry. Not by giving our children clear and emphatic instruction on how to treat each other, and especially giving our sons instructions on how to treat women. These steps will not accomplish the task. Some good may come by at least some of these measures. But they will fail at the ultimate task.

Good men (and good women, but I’m focusing on men) are made by being transformed by God. We men are sinners, and we need the grace of God to transform us. And so we Christians must spread the gospel, sharing how God redeems sinners and transforms lives by his grace, extended to us by the death of his son.

Christians must be involved in rectifying public abuses, must be involved in stemming the tide of sexual assault and violence, must be involved in training up our boys to treat women well and our girls to expect respect and take prudential measures for their safety, must be involved in bringing to justice those who have assaulted the dignity of women. But this is not all we must do; we must also bring the gospel into this equation. Because we know that merely changing behaviors is not enough. Hearts must be transformed by God.