By chance a priest came along. But when he saw the man lying there, he crossed to the other side of the road and passed him by. A Temple assistant walked over and looked at him lying there, but he also passed by on the other side. [Luke 10:31-32 (NLT)]
Yesterday’s devotion got me thinking more about the movie War Room. Elizabeth is a woman whose marriage is crumbling and Miss Clara is a fervent prayer warrior. Clara could easily have done her “Christian duty” for Elizabeth by offering to pray for the young woman’s marriage in her “war room” of prayer. Instead, Clara asks Elizabeth to give her one hour a week and offers to teach her how to fight for her marriage with the right weapons. With her offer, Clara lays herself open to rejection, being called a busybody (or worse) and the inconvenience and challenges that come whenever we become enmeshed in another person’s messy life. In short, Clara does more than pray for this troubled woman—she takes action.
I saw parallels between Miss Clara’s actions and those of the Good Samaritan in Jesus’ parable. A Judean is attacked by thieves and left naked and half-dead on the side of the road. When a priest sees him, he crosses to the other side of the road and passes by his fellow countryman. When a Levite passes, he goes over to look at the man, and then walks to the other side of the road to continue his journey. Both men heard the man’s groans and yet these supposedly religious men of good character ignored their Jewish brother’s needs. Neither one wanted to be delayed, get involved or dirty his hands. I wonder if either man assuaged his conscience by saying a prayer for the man which would have been faster and easier than getting involved. In this case, however, the dying man needed more than prayers—he needed immediate help and both the priest and Levite were capable of giving him assistance. It was the despised Samaritan who bandaged the man’s wounds, let him ride on his donkey, took him to an inn, nursed him through the night and paid the man’s expenses. It was the Samaritan who, instead of offering prayers, sacrificed his time and money to help a stranger.
Although Jesus’ purpose in telling this story was to answer the question, “Who is my neighbor?” it got me wondering whether the two supposedly pious men might have promised the dying man their “thoughts and prayers” before going on their way. In Letters to Malcom, C.S. Lewis points out that our prayers for others often “flow more easily than those we offer on our own behalf.” But, he adds, that’s not necessarily out of Christian charity. While praying for someone else’s faults is easier than working on our own faults and failures, it also is easier to pray for others than to do something for them! “It’s easier to pray for a bore than to go and see him,” says Lewis. Indeed, offering only our “thoughts and prayers” is far easier that actually offering our time, hands, hearts, or finances as did the Samaritan and Miss Clara. Prayer is not a substitute for action when action is what is needed!
There are many divinely ordained opportunities when more than our prayers are required. I often say, “I’ll pray for you,” but there certainly are occasions when I should be doing far more than that. None of us want to be considered busy-bodies or meddlers but sometimes, like Miss Clara and the Samaritan, we need to offer more than our prayers to someone in need.
Lord, help us discern those opportune moments when you want more than our prayers—when you want us to turn our petitions into exertion and our compassion into action.
God does not need your good works, but our neighbor does. [Martin Luther]
Prayer is calling on God’s power; it’s like calling in the big guns to fight the battle. When doubt in the efficacy of prayer sneaks in, however, it’s more like calling in the big guns but not believing they’re loaded with enough ammunition. I am often like the father in Mark 9 who qualified his request that Jesus heal his son by saying, “If you can.” Like that father, I profess to believe but I need God to help me believe more! Sometimes, the enemy sneaks into my heart and causes me to doubt both the ammunition and God’s aim.
Many stories, novels, operas, musicals, and movies have been based on the theme of selling one’s soul to the devil. In Christopher Marlowe’s 1592 play, The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus, a brilliant scholar who’s sure he’s learned all there is to know by conventional means turns to magic and ends up summoning the devil Mephistopheles. The two agree that, after Faustus has enjoyed twenty-four years of absolute power (with Mephistopheles as his servant), his soul will belong to Lucifer. When the handsome Dorian sells his soul so that he will never age in The Picture of Dorian Gray, he enters into a lifestyle of debauchery. While Dorian remains handsome, his picture changes to reflect the immoral and sinful life he’s led. In the 1968 horror movie Rosemary’s Baby, the naïve Rosemary discovers that her husband sold both his soul and her womb to Satan for riches and career success. As expected, none of those tales end well. The Devil and Daniel Webster, however, does but only because of the eloquence of the famed lawyer and statesman Daniel Webster.
When we pray about a decision, we often set the desired outcome we want rather than ask God to reveal His will to us. Instead of trusting our decision to Him and bending our will to His, we want God to bend His will to our desires. If His response to our pleas isn’t the one we want, we refuse to recognize it or complain that He never answered our prayers! Until we’re willing to step back and say, “Thy will be done,” we can’t truly discern God’s will.
Paul was speaking metaphorically of his thorn and whether it was a spiritual, emotional, physical affliction, or something else entirely, we don’t know. Since Paul dictated his letters, some speculate that that he had poor eyesight: perhaps cataracts or macular degeneration. Then again, severe arthritis in his hands may have prevented him from holding a stylus. Paul may have had a chronic medical problem such as gout, migraines, severe asthma, or spinal stenosis. It may have been a person: perhaps, Alexander the metalsmith who was harming his ministry. Considering the number of times the apostle was arrested, the thorn may have been an old injury from the many beatings inflicted upon him. Paul even may have suffered from bouts of depression or the 1st century equivalent of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. The identity of his thorn (or even thorns) is unimportant to us. It is how Paul dealt with his thorn that matters.
What do you hope to find tucked into your Christmas stocking or deposited under the tree Christmas morning? From the above words, it’s easy to think God is promising something like Christmas morning every day. Although He promises to hear and answer our prayers, let’s remember that He’s not so specific as to how He’ll answer them.
Devotions of the Heart 