Newsletter #103
On Seeking God Through Prayer
Today’s brief newsletter shares a few insights from a recent sermon.
Starting on the Right Foot (We Hope!)
Each January, my sermon series revolves around the theme that has been prayerfully and carefully selected for the year. In recent years we have had themes as varied as “Excellence,” “Focused,” “Behold: Seeing and Serving Christ,” and “Not Ashamed!” Some are of a slightly more general nature, in terms of being a quality to be applied widely. Some are tailored much more to a specific need in the ministry that needs to be addressed in a very particular way. This year, our theme is “Back to Basics.” The subtitle (if you want to call it that), are four key words: Study (Dig Deep), Seek (Draw Near), Serve (Step Up), and Speak (Speak Up).
Many will be able to intuit a type of logical, spiritual progression from Scripture to prayer to service to evangelism. This was intentional. As I surveyed the condition of our church, including perceived strengths and weaknesses, I ultimately felt that a renewed focus on four fundamental tasks or disciplines of the Christian life would serve our people best. I can only pray that my judgment will be proven correct over time.
Seek = Prayer
Of the four disciplines/tasks mentioned, “seek” may be the one less obvious in its meaning. In everyday speech the word can simply mean “looking for” or “pursuing.” Yet I am using this word—a word that does appear in Scripture quite a lot—to associate with drawing near to God through prayer.
I don’t think any of us have a hard time asking God for things, at least not specific things we want: healing, getting a new job, seeking a problem with our child improve, or seeing someone converted. The petition or supplication aspect of prayer comes quite naturally! However, seeking prayer as a vehicle for seeking after God—His heart, His will, His ways—that’s a different type of praying.
First, let me be very clear on my main assertion. I believe that nearly all of the times when the Bible speaks of seeking the Lord, it almost invariably has prayer in view. (Even when it doesn’t explicitly, prayer isn’t unrelated in terms of being a means by which we seek God.)
Two examples come to mind. The first is Jeremiah 29:11-13. It clearly connects seeking God with prayer:
For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart.
The important old covenant example shows how prayer is a means by which one seeks after God and, in some sense, “finds” him. Admittedly, one must do so “with all [their] heart.” But in so doing one discovers fellowship with the Lord afresh and anew.
A second example is helpful because it is straight from the mouth of Jesus (Matthew 7:7-8):
Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.
These verses don’t explicitly mention prayer, only some kind of pursuit of God. However, the language of “asking” as well as the surrounding context can only lead one to conclude that Jesus is speaking about an active communication with Him. What else should we call this except prayer?
Seek = Heart Hunger
Thus far I’d anticipate very little dissent from readers. However, many of us (me included) begin to feel conflicted when we realize that we have to go a bit deeper: does our prayer life reflect a heartfelt hunger for God?
Let me assert that our prayers both reflect the degree to which we hunger for God—His presence, power, purposes, character—and our prayers reinforce such a hunger.
We want to avoid a one-dimensional picture of this spiritual dynamic. That picture looks something like this:
Hunger for God = Prayer (“Seek”)
Without question, a hunger for God will manifest itself in prayer. It’s difficult not to think of the first eight verses of Psalm 63:
O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
2 So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,
beholding your power and glory.
3 Because your steadfast love is better than life,
my lips will praise you.
4 So I will bless you as long as I live;
in your name I will lift up my hands.5 My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food,
and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips,
6 when I remember you upon my bed,
and meditate on you in the watches of the night;
7 for you have been my help,
and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.
8 My soul clings to you;
your right hand upholds me.
Envision the typical psalm as part prayer, part song. The psalmist here takes us not only into the assembly of saints crying out in worship; he takes us down to our knees crying out in prayer, an equally important form of worship.
However, as I say above, we must reject the one-dimensional picture which says that only prayer like this comes from a hungry heart. What happens when our hunger isn’t so obvious? What happens when we have filled ourselves on other things, but realize this is a problem? To put it very directly, what happens when I realize that I’m not seeking God like a spiritually hungry and thirsty person should?
The only answer I have is … pray.
If I’m correct, then our one-dimensional, ideal picture of the sincere seeker becomes enlarged. It starts to look more like this:
The spiritually hungry seek after God in prayer. And those who aren’t yet knowingly hungry, but know something is wrong, give themselves over to prayer. Prayer reflects and cultivates hunger.
Study as You Seek
We’d be remiss if we leave what Don Whitney calls “Bible intake” out of the equation. Reading, hearing, meditating on, memorizing, studying, and applying Scripture is fuel for our prayer life. After all, I may just need to read Psalm 63 above before I fully realize how off my spiritual appetite is. I need to hear Jesus command me to ask, seek, and knock before I am stirred by my lack of asking, seeking, and knocking.
Thus, I am hoping (praying) that I am correct in beginning this series with Study and Seek, seeing those as interlocking spiritual disciplines that reinforce one another. Moreover, they provide a sturdy and logical foundation for serving and speaking.
Follow-Up:
In last week’s newsletter I wrote about weather—winter weather in particular. In recent days Jonathan Rogers has written about C. S. Lewis and his love of all sorts of weather. Take a look.
As an aside, Rogers’s work over at the Habit Weekly is often enjoyable to read, especially if you value writing, creativity, imagination, literature, and the like.
What I’m Reading or Rereading:
Matthew Barrett, The Reformation as Renewal: Retrieving the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church.
Jim Davis and Michael Graham, The Great Dechurching: Who’s Leaving, Why They Are Going, and What Will it Take to Bring Them Back?
Donald Whitney, Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life.
Quote of the Week:
Many who read this book are folk who hear much of the Bible at church and perhaps again in a midweek Bible study. You may often listen to recorded Bible teaching and Christian music as well. You may read the Scriptures almost every day, and possibly other Christian books like this one. As a result you encounter a torrential amount of God’s truth (not to mention the river of all the other information that rushes through your eyes and ears) each week. But without absorbing some of the water of the Word of God you encounter, you will be little better for the contact. Hearing and reading the Bible is the exposure to Scripture—that’s needful, but it’s only the starting place. After the exposure to Scripture we need to absorb it. Meditation is the absorption of Scripture. And it’s the absorption of Scripture that leads to the experience with God and the transformation of life we long for when we come to the Bible.
Donald Whitney, Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life.
Common Grace Wisdom (CGW): On Criminal Justice, Journalism, and Race
On May 25, 2020, Most Americans were united in horror when they saw the footage of Minneapolis officer Derek Chauvin with his knee on the neck of George Floyd. The sight sparked national protests and even riots. More importantly, it appeared to set the tone of discourse around race and policing (and race relations more generally) for the next generation.
However, after Floyd’s death, there were some unresolved questions that appeared to be muted or even suppressed in the coverage. Some of these concerned Floyd’s actual physical condition at the time of the encounter (He was extremely high) and some concerned what happened in the moments leading up to the now-infamous footage of Chauvin restraining him.
Many have rejoiced that the ubiquity of smartphones and police bodycams would promote “transparency” and “accountability. I have always remained skeptical of this due to how easily footage can be selectively released (or not released). As it turns out, thanks to a new documentary entitled “The Fall of Minneapolis,” the public is learning much more about what happened during that fateful May encounter between Chauvin and Floyd.
Coleman Hughes, an excellent young writer and podcaster, summarizes the new and troubling aspects surrounding Floyd’s death and Chauvin’s conviction. You can read about it here at “What Really Happened to George Floyd?” Because this piece may be behind a paywall, if you’re not keen to give The Free Press a brief trial, you can watch an interview with the documentary filmmakers over at this episode of The Glenn Show.
Parting Shot
How do you know if you’re in a cult, since one of the hallmarks of being in one is being brainwashed (practically), and not being allowed to question the leader? How do you know if you’re in the grip of idolatry, especially since idols make us blind, according to Isaiah 44? What if the only way out is (1) admitting that you might be wrong, and (2) listening to someone who is willing to point that out? So, what if you’re wrong about X, Y, or Z? How would you know unless you’re willing to consider the possibility, as well as the messenger?
