You know those times when you read a Bible passage so familiar that you
barely see it any more? Then a word or phrase jumps out at you, your perspective
shifts, and you see it clearly. It’s like those 3D puzzles where the picture
suddenly comes into focus.
I’ve been leading some studies on Acts. We’re
given an idyllic picture of the first Christians two times over, just in case we
didn’t get it the first time (
Acts
2:42-47;
4:32-37).
They prayed. They listened to the apostles’ teaching. They ate together.
They sold their possessions and cared for those among them who were in need.
Ananias and Sapphira spoil the picture a little (
Acts
5:1-11), but the general impression is of harmonious fellowship.
Then we come to the sixth chapter of Acts, and suddenly things aren’t so
rosy. One bunch of Christians is neglecting another in the distribution of food.
The twelve apostles solve the problem by appointing seven deacons to oversee the
process. But it’s the reason for this that really caught my attention:
And the twelve summoned the full number of the disciples and said, “It is not
right that we should give up preaching the word of God to serve tables.
Therefore, brothers, pick out from among you seven men of good repute, full of
the Spirit and of wisdom, whom we will appoint to this duty. But we will devote
ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word. (Acts
6:2-4)
There are two things that struck me about these verses. The first is how much
I’d like to say, next time I’m asked to cook for a church event, or five o’clock
approaches and I have to pull together a meal for my family, “I’m sorry, I can’t
serve tables, I have to devote myself to the ministry of the word.” (You’ll be
glad to know I haven’t given into the temptation yet; after all, cooking
is one of my responsibilities, and these days I even enjoy it.) The
second is that, when God called the apostles to spread the news about Jesus (
Acts 1:8), they saw this as involving two main tasks:
prayer and
the ministry of the word. They even mentioned
prayer first.
You only have to look at the letters of Paul, that apostle “untimely born”
(
1 Cor 15:8), to see it’s true. He prays for all the
Christians he can, including those he’s never met. He prays for their knowledge
of God, their growth in the faith, their endurance in suffering. He does this
every day, night and day, always, constantly, continually, ceaselessly, without
stopping, whenever he thinks of them (
Rom 1:9-10;
Eph 1:15-23,
3:14-21;
Phil 1:3-11;
Col 1:3,
9-14;
1 Thess
1:2,
3:10;
2 Thess 1:11-12;
2 Tim 1:5;
2 Tim 1:3;
Philem
1:4-7). Of all of us, surely Paul could say, “I’m sorry, I’ve got more
important things to do than to pray. God has called me to the ministry of the
word” (
Acts 9:15;
1 Tim 2:7).
He had enough to do, what with preaching and tent-making and living in peoples’
homes as an itinerant evangelist (
Acts 18:3;
1 Thess 2:9). Yet it’s clear that he spent much time in
prayer, and not just any old prayer. For Paul, praying wasn’t the last item on a
to-do list he never quite got through: it was heartfelt, strenuous, unremitting
work (
1 Thess 3:10 cf
Col 4:12).
What about us? How do our priorities compare to Paul’s? We may be “ministers
of the word” or we may serve in other ways, but do we pray for those we teach
and serve? Do I pray for my children as well as teach them the truth about God,
or am I too busy cooking and cleaning and heading off tantrums? Does the average
pastor give focussed time to praying for the people in his congregation, or is
he too busy writing sermons, visiting people and running church events? What
about Bible study leaders, Sunday school teachers, and youth group leaders? What
about the rest of us, to whom God has given the responsibility of speaking his
word into each others’ lives (
Col 3:16)?
What about those with ministries of evangelism or giving or leading (
Rom 12:4-7;
1 Pet 4:10-11)? Do we pray? Are we
devoted to
prayer? Or do we say, by our actions and choices, that it’s really us running
the show, growing Christians into maturity, helping our friends to know Jesus?
We can do it without God, thank you very much! We don’t need help! People’s
hearts are in our hands, to be changed by us – aren’t they? Well,
aren’t they?
Lest we think that sweaty, struggling, unceasing prayer is only for important
people like apostles, Paul holds us to a similar standard. Our prayers are to be
four kinds of “all”:
all the time,
all kinds of
prayer
, with
all perseverance, for
all believers (
Eph 6:18). But how can we possibly pray in “everything”,
“steadfastly”, “without ceasing”? (
Phil 4:6;
Col 4:2;
1 Thess
5:17 cf.
1 Tim 2:1;
Luke 18:1) Clearly, we can’t pray consciously at every
moment. But we can fall asleep and lie awake at night and get up in the morning
and shower and love our babies and go to work and drive home and wait in traffic
and walk in the door with prayer never far from our minds and our lips. We can
pray our worries and our joys and our anger and our tears. We can keep praying
for people even when our prayers seem to go unanswered. In some ways, prayer is
as natural as breathing: the first expression of our thoughts and the first
outlet for our emotions. But prayer is also earnest, dedicated labour, requiring
attention and organisation and perseverance and, for most of us, the commitment
to pray, with God’s help, for certain people at regular, planned times; not in
obedience to a rule, but in the love that flows from God’s grace.
There will be seasons of life when long disciplined prayers are out of the
question – for example, when we’re depressed or chronically ill or during the
baby years – but we can still get into the habit of praying brief prayers
whenever and however and for whoever. Perhaps we can stick the names of people
to pray for on the wall or write them on a bookmark, associate prayers for
particular people with different daily chores, or make a commitment to pray for
people when we go on Facebook or before we spend time together or after we chat
on the phone. We don’t have to pray in long blocks; we can pause to pray for a
shorter time here and there throughout the day. When we’re really struggling to
pray, we can ask others to pray with and for us. There’s no need to wait until
we’ve got our act together, or we’re in the right frame of mind, or we have a
clear time and space: our Father is there, ready to hear us, and all we need do
is speak to him about the mess and the people and the need.
I know. You’ve heard it before. Prayer matters. God listens to the prayers of
his people (
Prov 15:29;
1 Pet 3:12;
1 Jn 5:14-15). He works powerfully when we pray (
James 5:16-18). He is able to do immeasurably more than
all we ask or imagine (
Eph 3:20 NIV).
We say we know this. But I wonder how many of us, as we think about our
Christian service, should write these two words on our hearts and minds, our
diaries and calendars, and our Bibles and bathroom mirrors:
- ministry (or service: ministry just means service)
- prayer.
How would this change our priorities and shape the way we use our time?
