My new article in Priority! Magazine- Winter 2011

PRAYER POWER Gaining Prayer's Best Dividends by Jack Corbin Getz Font Size	Email this article to a Friend
Given the nature of our distracted and often fragmented lives, praying covenantally usually requires some basic structures: a place, a time, and a practice. … To help with that are three easily remembered prayer types, which, when balanced, will lead to great spiritual gain and effective praying. Share Prayer  Jimmy was driving down the street in a sweat because he was almost late for an important appointment and couldn't find a parking place. At his critical crossroad of crisis, he did what many do, he tossed a Share Prayer God's way: "Lord take pity on me. If you find me a parking place I'll go to church every Sunday for the rest of my life and give up all my bad habits!" Miraculously, a parking place appeared. With that, Jimmy looked up again and prayed: "Never mind Lord, I found one." The upside of Share Prayer is that it's portable and convenient, allowing a running "state–of–the heart" report to God, which in some cases is all the moment calls for. Other times, however, it's not what God has in mind when He asks us to be people of prayer. Far too many make Share Prayer their primary source of spiritual investment, which is akin to thinking that saving pocket change is a wise retirement plan. While convenient, compact, and often comforting, Share Prayer is no substitute for more focused forms of praying.  Subject Prayer  Subject Prayer has both great utility but also notable downsides. Such prayers grow out of hard times when we, or someone we know, need God's immediate help.  Subject Prayer takes two forms: petitions for our needs, and supplications for others' needs. When we make a promise to pray for someone else, it involves us, invests us, and indicates that we care enough pray. But not all prayers carry the same weight. Some are tossed like darts at a heavenly target, in hopes that a few will hit the mark. Others involve painstaking sacrificial intercession that requires incredible commitment and ongoing desire. While both have value, the latter speaks clearly to the level of spiritual integrity and discipline that must accompany our public promises to pray.  Certainly, God cares about everything that concerns us and He enjoins us to tell Him whatever is on our hearts, but assuming He's beholden to jump to our commands or to be our genie in a prayer bottle who ought to make everything fair and level is a disservice to both Him and prayer.  Silent Prayer Here is where great saints discover divine intimacy and mine spiritual power. Silence, more than any other form of prayer, convicts, confirms, calls, and conforms us to Christ's image. In silence, personal interaction with the divine takes place (a possible reason why so many avoid it). Of course, Silent Prayer is the most demanding form of praying to master and sustain. If you have mercenary motives or too little time to pray, don't try it. Remember, God's written promise: "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart" (Jeremiah 29:13). Half–hearted prayers apparently don't help us locate God because, as Ken Gire suggests, "God is not indiscriminately intimate."  Silent Prayer is where serious spiritual formation takes place. Devoting good amounts of time in silence with God yields perspective, inspiration, courage, and spiritual power. It's here where you gain an active relationship with the Lord because in silence, truth always has its way. (See Psalm 46:10.) Brennan Manning writes, "Silence is not simply the absence of noise or the shutdown of communication with the outside world, but rather a process of coming to stillness. Silent solitude forges true speech. I'm not speaking of physical isolation; solitude here means being alone with the Alone, experiencing the transcendent Other and growing in awareness of one's identity as the beloved."  Given the benefits of contemplative or Silent Prayer, it's worth at least half of a healthy prayer portfolio. Granted, other forms of prayer have a necessary and legitimate place, but none, combined or alone, yield the long–term benefits of silent, contemplative, meditational praying. Spiritually, we get what we pay for, and reap what we sow; therefore, why not spend spiritual capital where the dividends are the greatest? (See 2 Corinthians 9:6.) Excerpted and adapted, with permission, from Getz's book Praying When Prayer Doesn't Work: Finding a way back to the heart of God. (Available at. iUniverse.com/bookstore) Priority Magazine Winter 2011 Volume 13 Number 4 http://www.prioritypeople.org

Evolution haunts me.

For some reason I’m drawn to those wonderful nature shows that appear ‘round-the-clock on cable television. The beauty of nature and the wonder of how the animal kingdom works together boggles my mind.

As a Christian, I often feel guilty if I fall for the evolution talk that permeates the scripts of every episode. While I find some of it hard to refute, much of it smacks of an easy linguistic convenience or expedience that satisfies the scientific intelligentsia who won’t consider any other possibilities. Sure, it’s much easier to say that the lemur evolved its long tail over 30 million years than to say, "There sure is a clever and creative mind behind how all these creatures function in their habitats."

The other night while watching a program about how all big cats are part of the same genus, we heard that their amazing diversity came about from eons of adaptation to their unique environmental needs. For example, according to the guy on TV, because the black panther hunts exclusively at night, one old panther way back millions of years ago decided to change his family’s fur color to black. Wow. How smart was he to make that happen?

They also say that all the big cats, as well as a bunch if other night stalkers, changed the pigment in their eyes to allow them to see in the dark. Somehow, that special fluorescent stuff that coats the back of their eyeballs started working. So tonight, they will easily see all the other edible night creatures whose lazy ancestors fell down when it came to evolving enough defenses to keep them from being run down and consumed by panthers, leopards, tigers, lions and hyenas.

My favorite part of the show related to the great Bengal tigers that are so invincible as well as beautiful. The narrator said they were once tan like lions, but because they hunted in the forests, they needed to break up their evolved orange fur with stripes so they are invisible while they stalk the less-evolved prey they call dinner. What’s funny about that is they tried to tell me that the tiger was invisible, but I saw him without any trouble. His stripes helped, but his orangeness made him stand out like ... an 800 pound orange tiger standing in the bushes.

Something didn’t make sense as my restless mind wandered away from the narrative for a few minutes. The it hit: if tigers evolved stripes (or leopards spots) to hide in the forest, why didn't they go ahead and evolve themselves green? That way they would really be invisible. But if they did that, they would be creepy, ugly and probably much fatter, not majestic, muscular and orange.

And what about sharks evolving as the top predator of the ocean? Did the rest of the ocean's stupid creatures (prey) not bother to travel that far? They say dolphins have almost human level intelligence and speak a special dolphin language, but apparently sharks liked being dumb as rocks.

It seems that each creature evolved from something less to something more, but some weren’t as clever as others when it came to evolving. Many species chose to survive by simply creating multitudes of offspring so at least some of the family would escape the dolphins and sharks. "Hey Fred. How do you think we can change ourselves to avoid being eaten?" "That's simple Barney, make more babies!"

That reminds me of the old joke about the two back-packers who were wary of bears in the woods so they planned their survival techniques. One of them said "I'll just take off and run like crazy." The other said "That's foolish. A bear can run you down in no time," to which the first responded, "I know that, but all I need to do is outrun you!"

If the evolutionists can get by with explaining the mysteries of nature by saying every animal if perfectly self-adapted to survive and reproduce, why do so many still get eaten by tigers, leopards, lions, panthers or sharks or sneaky snakes?

If an animal 10 million years ago was eaten by another one, how does that hard lesson or congenital weakness get genetically transferred to the next generation who also gets eaten? If stinks bugs evolved an awful smell to survive, why don't all bugs evolve some stink? And if one species of fish was clever enough to develop wings, why didn’t other fish do the same? Obviously, evolution doesn't explain why every group stops short of becoming impregnable or invisible to the Genghis Kahn's of their world.

Simplistic as it seems, the food chain appears to be less about random self-generated chance and more about an actual plan that works great for everyone. The little critters reproduce so many offspring that their species survives, and the big dudes make just enough of themselves to control their area but not too many to strip it bare. Sometimes the big guys win, but sometimes the little meerkat scampers back to his hole only to emerge a minute later to see an ugly green tiger slinking back to the jungle. (That's metaphorical, because I clearly don't know enough about meerkats to know if green tigers eat them.)

Oaky, I admit, it's easier for my brain to say this was all well-planned, not the result of millions of years of self-generated mitosis. (Or is that bad breath?) I think I’ll leave it right there for now.

Thomas Aquinas on debating with others

"[I]t is to be borne in mind, in regard to the philosophical sciences, that the inferior sciences neither prove their principles nor dispute with those who deny them, but leave this to a higher science; whereas the highest of them, viz. metaphysics, can dispute with one who denies its principles, if only the opponent will make some concession; but if he concede nothing, it can have no dispute with him, though it can answer his objections. Hence Sacred Scripture, since it has no science above itself, can dispute with one who denies its principles only if the opponent admits some at least of the truths obtained through divine revelation; thus we can argue with heretics from texts in Holy Writ, and against those who deny one article of faith, we can argue from another. If our opponent believes nothing of divine revelation, there is no longer any means of proving the articles of faith by reasoning, but only of answering his objections — if he has any — against faith. Since faith rests upon infallible truth, and since the contrary of a truth can never be demonstrated, it is clear that the arguments brought against faith cannot be demonstrations, but are difficulties that can be answered."
— Thomas Aquinas

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I have a good friend in England who is reading my book as his Lenten devotionals. I appreciate that. He's a deep thinker, a globally minded man who probes both small things yet thinks universally.

Recently, as part of an ongoing dialogue about things he may or may not agree with in the book, he about why I suggested that canned prayers don't lead to great personal spiritual depth. In the book I compare such systematic prayer practices to telling Barbara I love her versus an exclusive diet of Browning poems. The poems may work well on occasion, but if they are all I can muster, she may begin to wonder if I have my own feelings for her.
I also say that a scribbled home made Father's Day card from my grandsons, Isaac or Will, is far better to me than the most beautiful Hallmark card. Nothing against Hallmark at all, but that piece of colorful paper from them may hang on my wall for years. Brennan Manning says “A little child can not do a bad coloring; nor can a child of God do a bad prayer.”  

So, this morning while praying, I thought about my friend, Alan, and want to offer the following thoughts:



1) Prayer must be most of all a personal expression from me to my Maker. It doesn't have to be formal, poetic, profound or even logical, just as long as it's honest, honoring and humble. Since the Spirit makes intercession on our behalf, sometimes a simple groan or a one word prayer is enough to do the trick. (I especially enjoy the way I have fun with this process in the book.)



2) Prayer must always have a context. I believe that the focus of today's urgent need often provides all the context we need to pray purposefully. Sometimes, however, we have no urgent need and the microscope that moves us to pray with urgency becomes a telescope that causes us to simply ponder. The further away the moment is from urgent, the more we tend to wander and need some form of contextual structure.



3) "Canned" prayers and prayer structures/systems often provide such context. I say in the book that we often feel like sailors who hit the doldrums and have no wind to move the ship so they have to get down and row until the wind returns. Using the words of others or following closely to a liturgical prayer system is fine when it's needed, but, it's not the best for developing an ongoing personal relationship with the Almighty.


I included a number of prayer systems in the book's appendices, including one of my own that I call "A Cognitive Approach To Praying." There's also reference to the ancient system called Lectio Divina, and the system used by St. John of the Cross to prime the pump when his spiritual experience got dry. 

A good way to think of prayer systems is that they provide a framework for us to speak our minds and open our hearts to God. If, however, they dictate everything we say, they can become crutches that lead to ritual, not relationship.



I hope this stirs some good thoughts.
Jack

A Soul Mate!

"Contrarian thinking at it's best simply asks Is this true? It speaks up when the politically correct answer or conventional answer doesn't match reality - when things simply don't work the way everyone says they should."

Larry Osborne - "A Contrarian's Guide to Knowing God" Multnomah Press

MY TAKE Trusting in Tough Times by Jack C. Getz Font Size

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In these tough economic times, when almost everyone’s focus is on the sinking dollar and rising employment rates, Christians are hard–pressed to find the financial means to vigorously pursue their mission. That challenge is especially daunting for a movement like The Salvation Army, whose mission is to “…preach the gospel of Jesus Christ and to meet human needs in His name, without discrimination.” How can the Army achieve those lofty goals when even its most faithful supporters find themselves facing financial meltdown? The story of George Müeller, who lived in even more troubled economic times than ours, provides an answer to that question that is also a challenge to deeper faith. Born in 1805 in Prussia, Müeller immigrated to England as a young man. As a seminary student, he was a playboy who had no time for the things of God, much less any notion of spending the next 70 years of his life in spiritual warfare on behalf of homeless street waifs. But by 1843, Müeller had turned his life over to God, and he responded to a sense of calling to feed and educate the masses of orphaned children who roamed the mean streets of Bristol, England. This was the era of the Industrial Revolution, whose dark side Charles Dickens painted vividly in his novels. The sad reality for thousands of children in that day was a life of poverty, thieving just to survive, and general hopelessness. Müeller began his outreach ministries with free meals and Bible stories for a few dozen children. Soon, demand grew to a point that his resources were strained, but his faith never wavered. As a young pastor and new husband, George and his wife tested God’s promises and refused to accept a salary. He learned that he could not trust himself and God at the same time, so he chose to put himself in a position to depend completely on God for all his needs and the needs of the children in his care. A few decades later, General William Booth of The Salvation Army demonstrated a similar faith when he said: “The promises of God are sure, if only you will believe.” Müeller accomplished his work in relative silence. He didn’t use mail campaigns, Christmas kettles, or development professionals. Amazingly, his only method was fervent prayer. For years the Müellers lived by just two principles: One, live completely by faith. Two, never tell anyone but God about financial or physical needs. Yet in the multiple facilities Müeller ran, no child ever missed a meal. The numbers associated with Müeller’s ministry are staggering by any standard. It is estimated that during 50 years of providing critical daily services to children, he raised the equivalent of about $180 million and touched the lives of more than 120,000 orphans. In his 1898 obituary in The Daily Telegraph, Müeller was called “the robber of the streets,” not because he was a thief, but because he was said to have “robbed the cruel streets of thousands of victims, the gaols [jails] of thousands of felons, and the workhouses of thousands of helpless waifs.” Like Müeller, The Salvation Army has always trusted God to provide. The record of how God has blessed and multiplied the Salvation Army’s “loaves and fishes” is nothing short of miraculous. And it is humbling to think that even though Army polices discourage paid advertising, the Army has always had enough, and usually more than enough, to accomplish what is needed most. Some might believe the current financial crisis is God’s way of cleansing the church from pride and self–reliance so that we will learn to trust Him more. That may or may not be the case, but in such times, everyone is forced to re–evaluate their priorities and realign their methods. Perhaps this is a good time, possibly the best time, to adjust the balance of trust that will allow God to do what He has always done: provide for His work through the ministry of those who trust Him, especially in tough times. The expanded work of George Müeller continues today through The Müeller Charitable Trust in Bristol, England. This article was published in Priority! Magazine. Read my latest article in the current issue.  Google it!

My Hero

There's no doubt in my mind that Jesus is my ultimate contrarian hero. The next in line for me is C.S. Lewis, a man of incomparable gray-matter who was voted the most influential Christian writer of the 20th century. (That was the last one, right?)

One of the things I like best about Lewis is his disarming way of being brilliantly and charitably contrary. Most people see things one way but he invariably points out a better, or bigger way to think about virtually any subject. I have read him so long that I'm allowing my similar nature to thrive, not that he and I ought to be compared. As I said in my book about another hero, Brennan Manning, my squeak compared to his roar is laughable, none-the-less, I keep squeaking.

(I'm extremely happy to report that someone very dear to me told me this week that reading my book (see link) reminded them of reading Lewis! They meant they had to take it in small portions and think about it before proceeding. I don't understand that completely but I'll take it, believe me!)

Here is a good example of how Lewis thought and why he wins yet another Contrarian of the Day Award:

"Strictly speaking, there are no such things as good and bad impulses. Think ... of a piano. It has not got two kinds of notes on it, the 'right' notes and the 'wrong' ones. Every single note is right at one time or another.... The most dangerous thing you can do is to take any one impulse of your own nature and set it up as the thing you ought to follow at all costs. There is not one of them which will not make us into devils if we set it up as an absolute guide. You might think that love of humanity in general was safe, but it is not. If you leave out justice you will find yourself breaking agreements and faking evidence at trials 'for the sake of humanity', and become in the end a cruel and treacherous man." Mere Christianity

In my book, Praying When Prayer Doesn't Work, I take some time to make the same point about the many impulses that come to us daily. Some of them may feel seamy when they arrive while others appear to be full of divine sanctity. Regardless of their condition, or the nature of their arrival, we have the time and the responsibility to examine each to discern their potential for good or evil.

Response (Response - Ability) is completely different than reacting. We get in trouble when we react to impulses, and most likely stay pretty clean when we respond to them - according to our values, commitments and covenants. Is lust evil? It is when it wins our hearts and minds. Is laughter good? Not when looking into a former business partner's casket for the first time. (Play that out with any impulse you can think of and see how right Lewis is.)

In my book, I call those impulses prayer triggers. That is to say, anything that comes to us can immediately be used to create a moment of prayer. If it's troublesome, turn it into a moment of discernment by asking hard questions about what it means or where it plans to take you if you follow it. On the other hand, if it feels like it is something good, use it as a moment of gratitude and praise to bring yourself into the presence of God. (Psalm 100:4)

Don't fall for everything you hear. Be a little contrary with some of the dogma that wants to devour your mind. Heck, if you tell me about it, you may end up winning an award from this desolate blogger.

Blessings.

Jack