Fists (Pentecost - Day 3)

(Based on 1 Timothy 1:18-2:8)

A long time friend called me last night with heartbreaking news. He called to let me know that he was homeless and was deep in the grips of pills. He had no way out. Earlier this week, he had tried to kill himself by taking as many pills as he could, but woke up realizing that he just couldn't hit bottom. There was more digging to do. He's been traveling from hotel room to hotel room, living with heroin addicts and alcoholics with no place to go but the streets. As I listened to my friend unload all this information, my mind started racing with possible solutions. It took everything in my ability to not jump up and race to San Antonio. I wanted him to get better, and I wanted it to happen now. 

Several times he has asked for money, and several times he's stayed with me, but this time was different. He didn't ask for any of that, and I would have been glad to help him. He seemed to know that there was nothing anyone could do for him. His doctor and family have spread the word to everyone they know to not take him in. They have closed the door, and know that the only thing that's going to save my friend is an act of God. 

When I got off the phone, I felt helpless. I remembered back to when I was in his shoes. I remembered how scary it was to feel cut off from society. I remembered how delusional I was thinking I could just try something different and the problem would go away. I remembered not wanting to drink but doing it anyways. I remembered wanting to die, but being too scared to. I remembered feeling stuck with no way out of the hole I had dug myself into. 

There was, however, one request my friend asked of me: to pray. I was so busy banging my head against the wall trying to figure out what I could really do for him that I forgot he even asked me to pray. When I see an obvious problem in front of me, especially with a close friend, my first reaction is to figure out how to solve it. Even though my buddy didn't ask for shelter, food, or money, I was trying to figure out what was best for him. I wanted to put on my Superman cape and fly out there to save him, to rescue him, to be his God. 

I didn't remember to pray for my friend until this morning. 

He is at the point to where he's staring down the edge of the cliff. He's either going to jump or turn around. What can any human power do in this situation? 

In today's passage, Paul is telling Timothy what my friend told me to do last night. Pray. The church in the city where Timothy lives is getting overrun by people with alterior motives, and Paul has commissioned this kid to work at restoring it back to its proper place. But instead of giving Timothy a list of tangible to-do's like going to meet with the people in question, becoming the pastor, or raising a campaign, he simply tells him to pray. He tells him to pray every way he knows how, to pray for everyone he knows, and to pray for the rulers and their governments.

What Paul says at the end of the passage gives us a hint as to why he would give Timothy the first directive of prayer. He says he doesn't want men and women who are "shaking angry fists at their enemies, but raising holy hands to God." I don't know about you, but when it comes to problems being solved, my first reaction is not to pray. My first response is to start brainstorming, moving, and rallying the troops. Prayer is an afterthought most of the time. 

As I was reading the passage, I thought of all the ways I'm trying to influence my church, my friends, and my coworkers. I thought of how I've been struggling just to spend five minutes on editing the book I've written. I thought about how I've been drawing up a manifesto to present to anyone who would care to read about how the church "should" be. I thought about how I've been spending a lot of time in conversation about how beurocracy has infiltrated the church, and how a few control the whole flock. I thought about how I'm trying to make the voices of my coworkers heard, and how to find out what they're passionate about so it can be incorporated into the work environment. I thought about how I'm trying to be a good boyfriend and a good friend in general. I thought about all these "mission impossibles" and how very little time I spend in prayer about any of them. Instead, I shake my angry fists at what I dislike and work on ways to change them and myself, leaving prayer as the last resort. 

Paul makes it clear to Tim that prayer has to be at the root of the work he's about to do. If it's not, he'll just be another pawn in the system of us vs. them. He tells him to pray in every way he knows how - verbally, silently, with friends, laying down, while fishing, etc. He tells him to pray for everyone he knows - church members, church leaders, friends he knows, friends he doesn't know, family, neighbors, people on the street, people he works with, etc. He tells him to pray for rulers to run the government well so Paul and Timothy can continue to go about their business effectively and quietly.

Prayer has become an irrelevant afterthought for me when it comes to responding to the needs around me. It's become a last resort for things I believe need to change. Even in the situation that Timothy was about to face as a youngster, about to put himself in a position where he would be looked down upon by the elders and leaders of the church, Paul's first instruction was to pray hard. When there were so many things to be done on the chore list, so many problems to be turned around, prayer was the first thing on the agenda. 

This is what prayer does. It turns our attention away from the things and people we're against, and turns our attention to the things and people we're for. It makes our efforts and our missions about loving God, and turns us away from simply reacting to the injustices happening right before our eyes. When we react without prayer, our motives can be to use prejudice to fight prejudice. It just doesn't work. 

Just as Paul knew what Timothy was about to get into, we know what we are into or about to get into. We are all on different journeys, and we all have different conflicts. Are we trying get through our conflicts with angry fists, or are raising "holy hands to God?"

Today's Action: Think of all of our personal "missions." Whether they be trying to love a hurting friend or family member, trying to implement changes where we see injustice happening, or trying to follow through on something we're passionate about, are we praying? For each of these "missions," pray for: every person involved and in every way we know how.