The Prayer of Relinquishment

The Concept

The Prayer of Relinquishment is an ongoing process. A daily (even moment-by-moment!) sacrifice of our own will to the will of God. We are changed little by little by the daily crucifixion of our will. Once we have abandoned our own agendas and acknowledged our hopelessness, we are in a position to fully receive what the Father has for us in abundance. New graces emerge: joy at the success of others, freedom from the burden of having to get our own way. Deeper intimacy with God overflows from our deeper dependency on God.

Such surrender will involve inner struggle. Foster explains: “to applaud the will of God, to do the will of God, even to fight for the will of God is not difficult … until it comes at cross-purposes with our will. Then the lines are drawn, the debate begins, and the self-deception takes over.” But struggle is part of the process. Struggle acknowledges that we are not fatalistically resigned to God's superior power, but that God actually invites us into true dialog with him. His desire is that we accept his will out of our trust in his love and wisdom and goodness.

Relinquishment knows the burden of unanswered prayer, but lays down (even distrusts) our own desires in favor of complete submission to God's will and timing. In the Bible, we see model figures with this same struggle of wills. Abraham relinquishes his son, Paul his desire to be free of his “thorn in the flesh,” and Jesus relinquishes his right to life in the garden of Gethsemane.

Sometimes, as with Isaac, God asks us to relinquish something, then gives it back to us. But this is not always the case. Still, what we relinquish, we can relinquish with the assurance of hope. Crucifixion always has resurrection tied to it. By default, “we hold on so tightly to the good that we do know that we cannot receive the greater good that we do not know." But we have to release our tiny vision in order to experience God's complete picture.

In formal practice, this prayer can be asking the Holy Spirit to apply relinquishment to the specifics of your day, asking the Father to make his will our consuming concern, asking Jesus to specify the areas of your heart that need to be laid at his feet. All day, “wait quietly, listen carefully, obey immediately.” The end result of relinquishment (certainly not the process) is a restful abiding in the Lord, a settled peace in the certainty of his control.

The Experience

At first I thought this would be an easy exercise. I have had spontaneous moments of relinquishment in my walk with God, and each stands out as an altar moment when I look back. I thought I would write about those, but instead I felt the Lord asking me to pray it now, and I protested. For almost a week, I kept putting it off, making excuses, literally resisting entering into a position of relinquishment.

I learned from that very resistance why this prayer needs to be a daily attitude. I am not talking about liturgically entering into “I surrender x, I surrender y, etc.” as a daily recitation, for then that very powerful exercise loses its punch. But certainly, when you feel that rebel flag going up at the knowledge of God's will, you best hit the deck!

I realized the truth in the prayer Foster put at the end of this chapter:

Oh, Lord, how to I let go when I'm so unsure of things? I'm unsure of your will, and I'm unsure of myself. … That really isn’t' the problem at all, is it? The truth of the matter is I hate the very idea of letting go. I really want to be in control. No, I need to be in control. I am afraid to give up control. Heal my fear, Lord.

So yesterday I knelt on the floor and approached a very intentional prayer of surrender. Once I made the choice to do so, my heart opened, words just flowed, and I was filled with an overwhelming sense of freedom. For me, the struggle was the choice, not the execution. I surrendered specific things in my life and named him Lord over them. I surrendered my desires for productivity and named him Lord of my schedule. I surrendered anxiousness over lost family members and named him Lord of the gospel. I surrendered my self-righteous excuses and named him Lord over my salvation. I surrendered the prayer itself, and named him the Truth behind the words.

Such a prayer is cleansing. It is deliverance, not from oppressive spirits or forces, but from idols I have set up in my heart and deliverance from the constraints of my own mind that keep me from true life and true intimacy with Abba, Father.

Healing Prayer

The Concept

These key basics struck me while reading about Healing Prayer:

1) Praying for healing (physical, mental, emotional, spiritual) is a regular act of Christian life. Because miraculous healing is inherently sensational, Christians tend to either falsely elevate the gift of healing or shy away and undervalue it. But the truth is that Christ is a healer and Christ is in u, so nothing should keep us from sharing Christ's compassion with those in need. Though some have been given a greater share in the spiritual gift of healing, it is God who heals, and our confidence is to be placed in him and not in man.

2) God employs an infinite variety of means to bring health. God will use doctors, encouraging friends, medicines, psychological therapy, divine miracles, etc. to provide healing, and God has the ability to do this with or without prayer. It is spiritual pride (and dangerous) to reject medicine as a gesture of faith. But it is short-sighted (and equally dangerous) to turn to medicine exclusively and pray only when everything else has been exhausted. Both extremes deny gratitude to God for the truth that all things, including the efficacy of medicine, are gifts of God.

3) Healing by prayer is not magic nor formulaic. Prayer for the sick is an extension of the love of Christ; it is a compassionate plea to the Living God on behalf of one who is suffering. There is no right combination of words, right confession of sin, right shedding of tears, right amount of faith, that will “get the prayer heard” any better, because healing comes through God not through our ritual. I felt Foster's approach here was a bit too systematic, as he seemed to suggest that though the factors are labyrinth, there may be a way to perfectly pray for healing. I remain skeptical on that point.

Reading this chapter, my faith was challenged, but Foster writes: “We may have thousands of arguments and skepticism against this type of prayer, and only one argument for it. But that argument is God, and isn't he enough?”

The Experience

This week, I walked around just looking for an opportunity to lay hands on a person with illness or a boo-boo. Though I felt many times that I should pray for my own infirmities, I never had an opportunity to pray for another. Still, healing was frequently on my mind. The thought of prayer healing requires faith, so this prayer exercise became an exploration of faith for me.

Admittedly, I've been struggling with faith this year, specifically with the seeming frivolity of it. I held that belief is a state of being and cannot be willfully changed, so why should our relationship with the divine - even our eternal judgment - hinge on something so trivial...something we don't even have control over? But I am seeing more and more that faith is a purposeful act, a decision to abandon self-reliance and self-confidence. My opinion is shifting towards accepting that we are all able to believe, but not all of us are willing.

"I believe, help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24) is such a simple and effective cry for help,in fact the cry itself, acknowledging helplessness, is its own answer. Earlier this week I found that Isaiah 30:19-22 spoke directly to me about faith, help, and God's will to first and foremost heal our eyes and ears to see and hear.

Unceasing Prayer

The Concept

Isaac the Syrian: “When the Spirit has come to reside in someone, that person cannot stop praying; for the Spirit prays without ceasing in him. No matter if he is asleep or awake, prayer is going on in his heart all the time. He may be eating or drinking, he may be resting or working—the incense of prayer will ascend spontaneously from his heart. The slightest stirring of his heart is like a voice which sings in silence and in secret to the Invisible.”

This constant praying by the Spirit within us is the lifeline we tap into when we are in communion with God. Awareness of this steady stream of prayer is what Unceasing Prayer practices to make our natural state. It is more subconscious than Praying the Ordinary, though they are closely related and are both truly a result of new creation and not human effort. But they do start as unnatural and intentional discipline, to the end, as Foster writes, that “in time these holy habits will do their work of integration so that praying becomes the easy thing, the natural thing, the spontaneous thing – the hard thing will be to refrain from prayer.”

We learn from fellow saints who have gone before us in this type of prayer, from Brother Lawrence, Frank Laubach, Madame Guyon, and Francis of Assisi of whom it was said he was “not so much a man praying as a prayer itself made man.” Practical exercises we can learn from them are:

• Breath Prayer – A prayer you can repeat in one breath (for example, "The Jesus Prayer": “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”) Quotes from Scripture will work, or ask the Lord himself to give you a personal prayer. Select something, then pray it as often as possible, allowing it to be planted deep within you.
• Practicing the Presence – It's not impossible to order our mental life on more than one level at once. While going about daily business, we can retire to the private chapel of our heart at any time. This is how we can act in God's will, because we have sought his will! Laubach says, “That is my task, to hold my will to the current of power, and let You sweep through endlessly.”
• Graduating Intensity: 1) Begins as conspicuous, even artificial. Find a way to remind yourself to pray in every moment. 2) Aim to be unaware of having said the prayer, like a tune you suddenly realize you've been humming. 3) Center it in the heart, bringing sentiment and reason in accord, so you think with love. 4) As it consumes you, prayer becomes your very personality.

Today we are a distracted people, and Unceasing Prayer is a way of speaking peace into the chaos, of focusing our fragmented legion activities around a constant Center of Reference. Theophane the Recluse says, “Thoughts continue to jostle in your head like mosquitoes. To stop this jostling, you must bind the mind with one thought, or the thought of One only.”

The Experience

This is definitely not something to be "mastered" in a week. Though, just being intentional about repeating a prayer every time I remembered to was a blessing in itself. It is astonishing actually how many minutes of the day can be spent outside the awareness of eternal divine communion!

I believe God gave me a short personal prayer at the beginning of the week, one I can repeat until it becomes my character, and then I spent the whole week trying to change it! But I have accepted it now as my heart's refrain for a season... too personal to share here.

There is not much to add to what was stated above, except that I do feel I learned a bit more about what it means to be in God's presence. Being in God's presence is a position - a position not dependent on my broadcasting to him, not dependent on my hearing from him, not even a feeling of peace or of spiritual ecstasy. Being in God's presence is the assurance of faith, a position where we find ourselves based on faith alone.

Hebrews 10:22 "Let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water."

The Prayer of Tears

The Concept

The Prayer of Tears: “Being cut to the heart over our distance and offense to the goodness of God. It is weeping over our sins and the sins of the world. It is entering into the liberating shocks of repentance. It is the intimate and ultimate awareness that sins cut us from the fullness of God's presence.” It is penthos in the Greek or compunction in seldom-used English.

But rejoice! This is no morbid thing. The early church writers called this inner turmoil “a deep joy.” For joy is the result of a heart humbled in perpetual contrition. “May those who sow in tears reap with shouts of joy!” (Ps. 126:5)

Tears touch the emotive center of our lives, an outward sign that an inner fuse has been lit. This prayer is not a purposeful act, not some conjured emotion, it is the truth of brokenness. Foster suggest we pray for it as a gift: the gift of repentance, the gift of mercy, the “charism of tears.” And he suggests it is a result of confession, not just the confession of sinful actions but of a distance from God, a reality all mortals occupy (Rom. 7:21-25) - wretched men that we are! The tears that begin in grief become tears of joy at the assurance of Christ's forgiveness.

Foster ended the chapter with a prayer from my own heart:
“Gracious Jesus, it is easier for me to approach you with my mind than with my tears. I do not know to pray from the emotive center of my life or event how to get in touch with that part of me. Still, I come to you just as I am. I am sorry for my many rejections of your overtures of love. Please forgive all my offenses against your law. I repent of my callous and insensitive ways. Break my stony heart with the things that break your heart.... Amen.”

The Experience

God has been so patient with me, and so intentional. This experience was just what I have needed, and everything has fallen into place like ordered choreography. At the beginning of the year, the Lord began speaking to me about watering dry ground. The story of 2 Kings 3 changed my life and I've been waiting for the deep digging of trenches to fill my sandy heart with abundant, blood-red-in-the-light water. I've also been reading the gospel of John, so rich in water language, and I've been waiting for a cleansing and a quenching (John 4:14).

Yet in the past few months, my heart has become an even drier desert: a waning of prayer life, a numbing of emotion, a crisis of faith, a tragedy of apathy. But I made a decision to push on with this prayer journey - even when I didn't "feel it," and I came upon the Prayer of Tears. Tears naturally fit with the water-desert imagery God has been giving me.

This past week, how I longed to cry, like I've never longed before! How I prayed to be broken – no, not to be broken, to be made aware of my brokenness! I confessed; I saw my wretchedness and claimed the beautiful righteousness of Christ. I saw my coldness and claimed the love of Christ who loves through me. Admittedly, much of this was mental exercise though I longed so much for it to be true. There is a real disconnect between my mind and my heart, but I have been forcing myself to pray as though I were whole.

Sunday, Pastor J. preached about Ephesus' first love. His focus was not on personal relationship, but on loving the brethren. He spoke about our tendency of gorging on knowledge and gorging on solitude and thus neglecting our call to love one another. This was the shock I needed back to life. Then Sunday night there was a conference on our identity in Christ. The speaker warned about the dangers of self-sufficiency and I recognized it so in my life. He called us away from a life of behavior-based acceptance because we have been re-born righteous, we have been re-born into God's love, we cannot earn it more than we have it already. As a result, we are moved to acceptance-based behavior and utter dependency. Everything just fell into place for me (though reading this, I see it is less a logical progression than a revelation beyond words). But just to clench it, my sisters, unaware of this project, have been crying around me constantly this week - even during grace over a meal - showing me how beautiful this gift of brokenness is.

No, I am not there. I have not cried. I remain deceived by self-sufficiency, but I believe I am not incurable and I have not been abandoned. I am moving away from over-thinking about it and committing to living it, by the grace of God.

Intercessory Prayer

The Concept

We are called to serve others, but through physical service we realize that the real needs of others are beyond our capacity to give, so we must turn to God in prayer. We are made to be a kingdom and priests (Rev. 1:6), and Intercessory Prayer is part of our priestly ministry. Of ourselves, we have no place in the heavenly court, but through Christ we are given the authority of his name, so that we may approach God in freedom and with confidence (Eph. 3:12). And we have the beautiful promise that when we pray in Jesus' name, i.e. in accord with his nature – “if you remain in me and my words remain in you – ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you” (John 15:7). In this way, Intercessory Prayer, is learning to become an abiding branch on the Vine.

As poetic and beautiful this exchange is, the reality is that often we are discouraged when our intercessory prayers seemingly effect no change. Foster says “this is because we are entering the strange mix of divine influence and human autonomy.” God does not force men into compulsory obedience (Ps. 32:9), but Jesus did tell his disciples to pray always and not lose heart (Luke 18:1). There is a reason to persist. I believe that faithful repetition does not force God's hand, but it does grows our heart toward that person, and it stirs up the cosmos, where our struggle is located (Eph. 6:12).

A good part of this prayer, and all prayer!, is the silent listening for and inviting of the Spirit to guide the content of prayer, to bring people to your attention and, often, to intercede with sighs to deep for words (Rom. 8:26). Because the Holy Spirit relates to people differently, it is often enlightening and encouraging to pray with others. Corporate intercessory prayer, in agreement and with the support of others, is an important component of praying for others. Meetings with Christians should naturally and easily turn towards prayer.

1 Samuel 12:23: “As for me, far be it from me that I should sin against the LORD by failing to pray for you. ”

The Experience

So far in this prayer blog experience, there has been a lot of inward focus in prayer. At this point, I am truly thrilled to turn that focus on others. However, ultimately, I have learned and will ever be learning – though it seems obvious – the focus of all prayer is Christ.

I have recently joined a new women's group in my church. There are only four of us, and none of us knew each other just two months ago. It can be hard for me to really open up and connect with people. But this week I focused especially on praying for each of those women, and when I saw them again, I felt closer to them, as if their lives were truly intertwined with mine. I believe the unity of the Church that Jesus, Paul, John, etc. insisted upon will only be possible when the Church prays for each other ceaselessly, in accord with the nature of Christ.

Quite timely for this topic, Osama bin Laden's death was announced this week. A year ago at a prayer conference, we were asked to pray for the salvation of a famous person, and my group chose Osama bin Laden. In praying for him that day, and on and off since, a place in my heart has grown for this man. In the face of so much celebration over his death and a mission accomplished, I truly grieved for the end of the hope that he might live a redeemed life, and I did mourned the human loss of a wicked misguided destructive man who once laid innocent in his mother's arms.

Love is the power of intercessory prayer, and love's increase is its result. Amen!

Written Prayer

So, I took a break from this blog exercise last week ... at the same time that I took a vacation and really flip-flopped my schedule ... not to mention, at the same time that I finished reading Love Winsby Rob Bell, which really threw me for a loop. Here is not the place to discuss my opinions of the book, but this intro is just a way to explain my topsy-turvy spiritual limbo state this week. I've been finding it difficult to open up in prayer - I am first resistant, and then easily distracted, and often quite tongue-tied. So I made myself sit and write what I knew I needed to express.

*~'`^`'~*-,_.-*~'`^`'~*-._,-*~'`^`'~*

Heavenly Father, I am thrilled by my recent paradigm shift, by finding a whole Christian community across the globe and across the ages who share this shifted world view. What I am learning is what I have always wanted to be true. I do not, and maybe cannot ever, truly know what is true; it is not for me to know but for me to trust your will. Yet I cannot go back from this point. What I am learning matches up with reason – though I know your reason is not just superior to but even perpendicular to man's reason – but it also matches up with my understanding of your being. I should be ecstatic and full of praise, yet instead I am feeling like an anathema.

You have put me into a loving community, an accepting and attentive community. And I love your for that blessing! Rather than keeping my new insights and new feelings in the dark, I bring them to the light, and I am always surprised by the gentle reception I receive from even those who do not agree with me. Yet, I feel like an anathema because I do not feel your pleasure, Lord.

I live to bring you pleasure. I long for my life to be a source of delight for you. I know this is possible! Zephaniah says “He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with love, he will rejoice over you with singing!” Almighty God, I crave your song over me!

But I do not feel your pleasure over my new direction, nor do I feel your displeasure. Somehow, I don't feel you at all this past week. Only a few weeks ago, I found your presence in every daily activity. I was almost playful in seeking you out at all moments of the day, reminding myself by reciting “God is here!” whenever I thought to say it.

Yet now to do so feels forced and shallow. What was playful and earnest has now become legalistic and empty. I don't know what to do to find you again, Lord. In fact I know that there is nothing I can do. That it is not me, but you, who draws near. I need you to show me what blockage, what plank in my eye, what stopper in my ears, is keeping me from realizing you.

I have discovered a freedom that is almost scary, and I don't know how to cope. I am in a position to follow you not from fear of eternal destruction but because I love you and you alone can give true life. This freedom requires, not obedience, but passion. A passion that needs to be unlocked because, truth be told, I am very scared, Lord, so scared I don't even know of what.

Please God, keep me in your truth, lead me in the ways of righteousness that restore me to your pleasure, do not let me slip away.

Amen.

Sacramental Prayer

The Concept

A sacrament is a physical vehicle of God's intangible grace; it is the mundane infused with the Holy, the created infused with the Creator. God repeatedly chooses to present himself to us through physical realities, through sensual experience: we see symbols throughout creation, we hear the praises of his people and the word of his apostles, we taste his body, we feel water on our skin in baptism and touch others as we serve, and even the smell of incense should remind us of prayers. In the ultimate sacrament, Christ came to dwell with us in our physical realm, taking on the form of a man (Phil 2:6-7).

In Foster's sense of Sacramental Prayer, then, he is referring to rituals and words created by others that we adopt and lift up to the Creator ourselves. The modern church often chafes against liturgy, seeking to avoid self-righteous or forced displays of outward piety. But both liturgical sacrament and spontaneous intimacy can be inspired prayer. “We come before God in liturgical dignity and charismatic jubilee. Both are vital to an unabridged experience of prayer.” It is not good for us that we would reject one for the other. Our God should be encountered in both familiarity and in reverence. Yes, we may approach God with confidence through Christ (Eph 3:12), but throughout the scripture, righteous men fall on their faces in his presence. The Lamb of God holds seven flaming stars in his right hand, the same hand he uses to comfort us in our fear (Rev 1:16-17).

We know the Old Testament is full of detailed religious ritual, but the New Testament also teaches the sacraments, and Paul included well-known hymns in his epistles. Liturgy connects us with the wider body of Christ; speaking the words of the early church over our lives today is an act of unity. Relying on another's words to speak our heart undermines our pride while at the same time providing us outside encouragement.

There are pitfalls of course. There is “going through motions.” There is the archaic language that may have lost meaning over time. However, the idea of vain repetition that Jesus criticized in Matt 6:7 is a criticism of the heart not the action. The heart of Sacramental Prayer joins the worship - in spirit and in truth (John 4:24) - of the church across continents and through the ages.

To practice this type of prayer, Foster suggests starting by singing the psalter, approaching Communion with the awe of its mystery, or praying attentive to body position.

The Experience

I'm a bit torn on this one. Yes, I believe sacramental prayer is an integral part of a healthy prayer life, but spending a week on it alone felt stilted.

The first day I read Oswald Chamber's My Utmost for His Highest, which was wonderful. It was freeing to let go of the responsibility for my own devotional “syllabus,” and I was fed by this man's word of God. The next day I explored the Book of Common Prayer and was frustrated by it. Many of the prayers did not feel applicable to me or my experience. I found I could not stay on the words written by others, but prayed around them (which may be the point?). Maybe it would be richer if they were memorized prayers, as they serve in the orthodox churches. Often reciting the Lord's Prayer or the Apostle's Creed moves me. There is definitely something awe-inspiring in speaking today the same words of the church centuries ago.

I had a sweet moment where I prayed at the foot my bed before climbing in for sleep. Though intentional body positions feel awkward at first, they awaken the whole self into the moment and act of prayer. It is similar to physically raising ones arms while singing a worship song. This definitely requires more exploration.

Ultimately, however, I constantly struggled this week with feeling too "scripted" and unnatural. I will probably take a week off from these blog exercise to recover some spontaneity and the freedom of responsiveness in my prayer life.