:: in.a.mirror.dimly ::

I like it when God offers me an easy choice.

The big decisions regarding our move to Columbus were easy. That is, once we looked at the facts honestly. Ohio State clearly was the best place for my wife Julie to pursue her PhD. We were walking one day back in Connecticut discussing our choices, and I remember when we hit the point where we realized it wasn’t worth being uncertain any longer.

We knew where we needed to go because so many details had lined up in answer to our prayers.

When it was time to look for an apartment we didn’t need a rainbow pouring down from heaven on the right place for us—though that would have pretty awesome.

We found one place and one place only. That place also happened to provide what we’d been praying about.

The big decisions have been easy.

The details rarely are.

But then the details are where we do the heavy lifting of faith and grow. On our first night here I was laying in bed, stiff and exhausted after a full day of driving. Our rabbits were bouncing around in their play pen next to our bed, getting used to the new place and trying to decide whether they’d like to try killing each other or not (see rabbit bonding).

It was hotter than hot. Our air conditioner didn’t seem to be working.

I began to pray. I don’t know what was going through my mind until this phrase came to me, “Trust the process.”

It was a moment of undeserved grace that God poured on me. We had a couple of long, hard days after that night—moving is always a trial—and those words sustained me.

God has a process for us that may well be demanding, painful, and upsetting. And yet, the thing about God is that he’s actually in that process.

I don’t think it’s helpful to speak about God causing pain because he’s actually with us in the midst of hard times, grieving when our hearts break and shaking his head when the smoke detector goes off at 3 AM for no apparent reason. I don’t know how cause and effect works in relation to God, but somehow God is both all powerful and intimately connected to us in the ups and downs of our lives.

I transplanted some perennial flowers from my in-laws to our new place, and I can really relate to them right now.

I’ve been hacked out of what’s familiar and shoved into a place that is totally different. I’m slowly adjusting and sticking my roots in, but I still feel out of place, off-balance, and overwhelmed. I fear that I may wither in this new place.

And yet, transplanting is a process that works. In fact, some perennials need to be broken up and transplanted in order to thrive—or so I’ve been told.

I have to trust that those flowers will take root and bloom next spring. Transplanting is a process that works. By faith, I trust that the same will be true for us.

I was praying this morning, and I had a strong sense to pray for a few people. While praying, I could see that God was preparing them to do something but they didn’t see what it was yet.

That is a tough place to be.

Living in a place of preparation and uncertainty can be stressful, draining, and unfulfilling. You’re always waiting for the next thing. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do each day because you feel like you were made to do something else.

This morning I sensed that God really does have things to teach us and to develop in us at the times when we feel stuck or in between or simply uncertain. He gives us opportunities to grow, and we’ll simply never know how he may use something to shape us.

I’ve learned a lot about that with my writing lately. Things have not followed the path that I’d chosen for myself and planned out, but at the same time, I have what I need and God continues to teach me things I never expected to learn.

I suppose this is part of what faith looks like: we take steps forward each day into the uncertainties of life, trusting that we can hear God today and move forward, trusting him with the results.

At the end of the day, if we can give God the glory for where he has led us, we may also find that we’ve ended up right where we belong.

For more posts on faith, visit Bonnie Gray’s blog post today: Facing What You Fear to Lead a Significant Life.

You haven’t really lived until you’ve sat around the dinner table with a bunch of Catholics in their 50’s and up who braved the ruler-brandishing nuns of Catholic parochial schools. It sounds like they survived a military campaign or a long stint in prison.

“And then the nun slammed that kid’s head smack into the chalkboard…”

I kid you not. That is a real story.

There are lesser offenses, such as the nun who paraded the aisles with a ruler and whacked every single kid on the knuckles because one person talked. Even the Catholic school I attended used the same policy of punishing everyone for the offenses of the few—this was a world where ADD and ADHD remained relatively unknown.

Of course there were some kind nuns about, but they never make it to the dinner time story selection.

After escaping something like Catholic school, it’s awfully tempting to mock what you once feared. That’s why the scene in the Blues Brothers is so hilarious and over the top. Anyone who has ever cowered before a nun loves the idea of a nun who exchanges her ruler for a sword and who can levitate when angry.

When we move away from the power of someone or something we used to fear, it feels really good to mock it. It’s like you’ve confirmed that it no longer has power over you because you can laugh at it. We swing away from one extreme of fear into another of joy and humor.

A lot of former fundamentalists such as myself have done our fair share of “swinging” as well. We swing in our beliefs over the end times, the nature of truth, judging others on appearance, the authority of the Bible, politics, ethics, and who knows what else.

I have a lot of friends who are swingers—that is, former fundamentalists who have swung away from their former beliefs into  a different notion of Christianity altogether.

One of the problems with swinging, is you alienate yourself so completely from your past, that you don’t understand how it has shaped you. I can call myself a progressive-ish evangelical all I want, but at the end of the day, I’m always going to be tempted to choose the non-fundamentalist path.

When I swing away from fundamentalism, I don’t understand how it impacts me or where its beliefs come from. Swinging leaves me vulnerable to blindsides, especially in my history of theology.

And this is nothing new for Christians. The fundamentalists did their own swinging away from liberalism, not realizing they were operating within the same confines set up by the agenda of the Enlightenment where all knowledge had to be grounded in scientifically verifiable facts—hello inerrancy.

I am pretty happy to swing away from fundamentalism into the relatively undefined world of progressive-ish evangelicalism, but I’m often reminded that swinging brings its own problems. I need to not only understand the impact of fundamentalism on my own life, I need to appreciate the ways God is working among fundamentalists today.

The truth is, if the Gospel I believe in is really true, then God has not swung away from the fundamentalists, evangelicals, progressives, or any other Christian camp. If we’re all devoted to the same God, then he is, in a sense, immovable.

God does not swing and shift with the times. Our perceptions of him will shift because we see in a mirror dimly, but God sees things as they truly are.

The amazing thing is that despite seeing us all as we truly are, God will not swing away from us. And even better yet, God is not afraid of nuns.

I grew up attending several conservative Protestant churches. They weren’t bad places to learn about Jesus.

For the most part the people I met there sincerely loved God, prayed, and read scripture. I don’t have any entertaining stories about tyrannical pastors. My pastors over the years have been friends and mentors.

However, there was this overall vibe or driving force among us in the conservative churches I grew up in. I can’t point to any one enforcer off the top of my head, but then again, perhaps we were all enforcers. In fact, that’s probably what made this vibe so troubling.

The vibe I felt was fear.

We were all afraid of being exposed as sinner, of being unfaithful to scripture, of being condemned for our worship preferences, of being singled out because of our doubts, and a list of other offenses that grew longer the more conservative you became. I attended this one fundamentalist church in my Jr. High years full of kind people, but they had the strangest list of rules against things such as not going to see movies in public since someone may see you in the theater and think you’re there to watch porn or something.

Don’t get me started on the Harry Potter books.

There are thousands upon thousands of Christians like me who grew up in relatively good churches but were surrounded by this vibe of fear and control. The worst churches actively use fear for their agendas or at least incorporate fear-based campaigns from other organizations that mangle the banner of Christ for their own gain.

The consequences of fear can be devastating.

Read the rest of this entry »

I used to work for someone who usually ended the week saying, “Thanks for all you do.”

That used to drive me crazy. What was he thanking me for? Eating my lunch? Getting a project done on time? Checking my personal e-mail while on the job?

I know this wasn’t what he meant, but I interpreted his encouragement catch-all as: “You’re not important enough for me to take the time to find out what you do well.”

Some weeks I wondered if it would have been better if he’d said nothing at all.

Sometimes the wrong kind of encouragement leaves us worse off than we were before.

In order for encouragement to actually work, it needs to be specific.

Be Specific or Else…

I think about this a lot since I volunteer and have managed volunteers for years. A big part of appreciating volunteers and ensuring they continue to help out is to give them specific encouragement. Specific encouragement is the fuel that keeps us going.

Encouragement that affirms something a particular will empower others to keep going. It’s so critical for volunteers and for ministers that I don’t think anyone can continue to serve effectively for a long period of time without it.

I would go so far as saying that encouragement is one of the ways God’s Spirit guides us in our service—it’s an outside validation that we have heard from God correctly.

Without mentioning something specific, our words fall flat and may even communicate that we don’t care.

Critique without Encouragement

I actually have a rule I try to follow, especially in church. I don’t let myself critique anyone unless I have encouraged that person first.

This is a worthwhile goal because many volunteers and ministers don’t hear feedback from people until something bad happens. Back in my worship leading days I’d guess that at least 80% of the feedback was negative—usually critiques of my song choices.

Critique without encouragement tells others that they are probably doing something terribly wrong. Even if someone is serving in the wrong position, look for what that person does well, affirm that, and perhaps suggest that he/she may be more effective somewhere else.

Critique alone could just leave a person feeling lost.

A Practical Step Toward Encouragement

If I could make one last suggestion for a practical way forward, I’ll be teaching a course on equipping volunteers for ministry at Biblical Theological Seminary outside of Philadelphia on August 12-13.

We’ll cover a broad range of topics related to supporting volunteers for ministry, and one of the major topics will be appreciation. You better believe we’ll talk a lot more about what effective encouragement looks like.

For more information, contact the academic office at 800.235.4021 or e-mail academic@biblical.edu.

When I felt prompted to pray for more work a few weeks ago, part of that prompting was a desire to tithe toward God’s Kingdom work in a particular ministry. The new projects that came in were not about increasing our little savings account. The goal was to increase God’s Kingdom, but I benefited as part of God’s provision.

I chose the ironic title “Jesus wants to make you rich” for this series because I think money isn’t that big of a deal for God. So long as we have his Kingdom priorities in place, he can handle the money part.

However, that doesn’t mean everything will be swell and ducky.

I’m often reminded by the “hall of faith” in the book of Hebrews that details followers of God who were both delivered and who suffered terribly. In the end, they were all committed to God’s work and he rewarded them in this world and in the next with his presence.

Material markers are a poor indicator of divine blessing or presence.

God’s ultimate blessing is his presence. That’s the treasure hidden in a field that we sell all to find.

Depending on what he desires to accomplish, we may or may not have money in the bank. Believe it or not, he may want us to pass through tough financial seasons. Perhaps the ministry he calls us to requires having as little money on hand as possible.

There is no chart we can use for this.

We could have everything right with God and have no money. We could have everything wrong with God and have pots of money.

Learning to desire more of God no matter what our finances look like is the key. If we ask him and hear what he desires us to do, he can provide what we need in order to accomplish his Kingdom work.

God’s priority isn’t our comfort, but then again, he isn’t afraid to give us money if we need it to accomplish his purposes.

During the NHL playoffs I watch a lot of games through Canadian web sites that broadcast Hockey Night in Canada. It’s like I’m watching a different sport. The announcers are really into the game, commentators offer unfiltered opinions on the players, and features in between periods share interviews with the game’s best players.

The interviews of players add an element of human interest that makes it feel like HGTV for men. The sport of hockey is glorified, and you feel swept along by this great, amazing game with so many noble representatives.

Part of me wants to drive off to the nearest rink to practice skating backwards.

About a year ago, I spoke with a friend whose talented son considered taking a shot at professional hockey, but he decided against it. He offered a completely different perspective on the culture of hockey that didn’t necessarily spoil my Hockey Night in Canada moments, but revised the way I view the sport.

His angle gave me a dose of reality.

And honestly, why wouldn’t we want a dose of reality? Sometimes it hurts to realize we’ve had something wrong, but in the long run, we are usually better off, even if we’re a bit disillusioned.

As a growing Christian, I value doses of reality and challenges to my beliefs because I want to be sure I’m placing my faith in something solid. If my faith in Jesus is real, then it should stand testing. If it can’t, then perhaps I’ve had my faith in something other than Jesus.

Growing in Christ means changing our beliefs sometimes. That’s something that Peter, Paul, and John all had to learn. We’re in good company.

Our interpretations of the Bible and our theology may change sometimes, but how do we know we’re making a wise change? Here are some thoughts on how we can revise our beliefs faithfully:

Are We Departing from Tradition and the Global Church?

If we’re aware of what the majority of Christians throughout history and the world believe, then we should find out whether our revisions move us closer or further away from them. While joining the majority doesn’t always lead to the truth, it is proper to recognize the work of God’s Spirit among believers outside of our culture as a critical guide (see my book Coffeehouse Theology for more on this).

If we choose to depart from tradition or the global church, then we should have some really, really good reasons for doing so. Christians have been wrong about slavery, women’s rights, and colonialism, and there’s a chance we’ve made some other mistakes as well.

Are We Represented by a Minority in Christian History?

There are some church fathers who have both laid the foundation for our faith and held to some views that we would find quite disturbing today. Origen is one who preserved the Christian faith at a critical time and suffered for it, while also holding some views that would later be declared heretical.

Beliefs are tricky things, and sometimes our lines between heresy and orthodoxy are not as clear as we’d prefer. There are some church fathers who would probably like to have another shot at reframing some of their beliefs, and if the greatest minds of the church are in that boat, we’re in good company, even if we’re in the minority on a particular issue.

Are We Overreacting?

Christians are really good at swinging too far in one direction. Our latest trend is a movement away from certainty to doubt and questions. The danger is that we’ll embrace doubt, deconstruction, and questions to the point that we’ll never put in the hard work and faith required to find answers and to consequently do anything.

We can do this in our shifts over theology. On Friday I hope to apply some of these questions to our beliefs about hell, who goes there, and why. We’re at a time when perhaps an overemphasis on hell and punishment could be countered by an overemphasis on grace and salvation for everyone.

I’m not particularly interested in landing in the dead center of the two extremes, but I think it’s helpful to remember that in every time of shifting, we’ll be tempted to shift too far.

Friday’s Post: Perhaps we’ve made too much of hell in relation to the Gospel message, but let’s be careful that we don’t make too little of God’s justice, judgment, and the reality that anyone can reject God’s love and forgiveness

I learned one important lesson about Christian unity from sailing and snow camping. Obviously, both were two very different occasions.

Sailing and snow camping are two activities that I do not enjoy.

Stick me in a kayak to bob around, and I’ll be happy. Strap some skis to my feet, and I’ll glide along for miles provided there’s a promise of hot tea and chocolate in my backpack. However, once you introduce the variables of gusting winds or freezing temperatures, there’s something that doesn’t quite click for me about sailing and snow camping.

Perhaps it doesn’t help that I was raised in the flat, warm climate of Philadelphia, never setting foot on a sailboat until I started dating my wife. You see, my wife’s family is totally into sailing, and my wife enjoys snow camping with her brothers—snowshoeing into the woods with a tent and sleeping bags strapped onto their backs.

They are rugged New Englanders.

I don’t join them. And unless someone from my wife’s family leaves an unexpected comment on this post, I’m still recognized as part of the family. Our unity as a family is based on something deeper, mysterious, and spiritual than shared activities or our agreements.

Almost nine years ago Julie and I were married, and that is the foundation that everything else flows from. While I still need to work on our marriage and maintain our unity, there is a lot of room for us to disagree on things like putting yourself at the mercy of high winds or making her watch the NHL playoffs with me.

While I don’t think life gets much better than the NHL playoffs (I mean, did you see the Caps/Lightning game last night?), Christian unity is pretty awesome. Here are a few thoughts about unity for the Rally to Restore Unity hosted by Rachel Held Evans this week:

We Don’t Have to Do Everything Together

Christians don’t have to read all of the same books and blogs. We don’t have to listen to the same preachers, sign the same statements, or go to the same conferences. We don’t have to swim in the same streams of tradition. Our unity is not based on doing all of the same things together.

We all have been given something from God. Some have moved from Catholicism to evangelicalism, while others have done the opposite. While there should be a family resemblance and some common points of unity in the work of the Spirit among us, there’s nothing wrong with Christians from different perspectives working parallel to one another.

Personal Unity Means More Than Unity on Paper

I’ve studied quite a bit of theology, and I’m less and less impressed these days with common doctrinal statements about what makes someone an evangelical, or whatever. I think truly useful unity is what we experience with the people we actually know, not what we can write up, post online, and then leave a comment on.

Commenting online is an inferior form of unity.

When I get together with my Reformed or Catholic friends and pray with them, I’m experiencing real unity that is far more powerful and meaningful than anything online or on paper. For people who serve an incarnate God, meaningful unity is also incarnate.

Whether or not someone signs a document doesn’t do much for unity. When we can pray for one another, share the Gospel with a  united front, and encourage one another to draw near to Jesus, we are practicing true Christian unity that trumps statements made by national leaders or people who seem important.

Unity Requires Faith

I don’t know why there are so many different branches of Christianity or why God shows up to certain people in certain ways, but that’s what requires faith. I was chatting one day with a guy who used to be Arminian who felt that the Bible finally made sense from the Reformed perspective of Calvinism.

I had the exact opposite experience.

We both need faith to trust that God is working in each us, revealing himself in ways that communicate with each person. There is a huge uncertainty gap, and perhaps we may sometimes find it unsettling that our theological views didn’t work for someone else. All I can say is that I trust where God has led me, and I trust that God will lead others as they require.

Unity Commits to a Larger Shared Purpose

What I like about the Rally to Restore Unity is that we’re not just sitting around trying to agree on “how” to be united. We’re stepping back from our bickering with a bit of humor and committing to raise $5,000 that will fund clean water for a community. Everyone needs water and God wants no one to die from a lack of clean water, and I think we can all agree on that.

Let’s all chip in to make this Kingdom work happen!

Make sure you swing by Rachel’s blog today for links to other posts and some hilarious pictures. Also check out the Twitter hashtag: #restoreunity.

A popular Christian author recently stated: “If we embrace universalism however it is cloaked, then we’re free to live our lives however we want, to sit back as easygoing Christians in comfortable churches, because in the end all these masses are going to be OK.”

I have two things to say.

1. I don’t think universalism is true.

2. I think the above statement makes a critical error about why we follow Jesus.

The author who made this statement made a bloomer, dropped the ball, and missed the boat. That statement makes the mistake that no one supposedly wants to make. That statement reduces Christianity to something that we all say it isn’t.

That statement reduces Christianity to nothing more than a ticket to heaven.

That statement asks, “If Jesus can save everyone in whatever way they want, then why follow him as sold out disciples?” Thankfully, the Bible has a good deal to say in response.

Avoiding hell as an eternal destination is not a major point in Christianity or in the Bible. Separation from God is certainly serious, but Jesus doesn’t make avoiding hell the pivot point of his message or speak of avoiding hell as our reason for being here. He speaks of separation from God, but if avoiding hell was the point, the major pivot upon which everything turned, then Jesus failed us. Jesus pointed to something else as far more important than merely avoiding hell.

When Jesus was asked how to get eternal life, he stated, “Love the Lord your God…”

The greatest point, the reason why we’re here, is to love God. That’s it. If you want life, love God. And when you love God, you’ll have faith in him, trust him, and begin to act like him. You’ll end up having compassion on the poor, the imprisoned, and the sick. When it’s time to pass from this life, you’ll either be on your way to turning into one of God’s children who loves him, trusts in him, and has been changed by him or you’ll resist him. If you love God first and trust in him, then you are saved because of the cross, resurrection, and indwelling Spirit.

If you reject God, fail to love him, fail to have faith, and fail to trust him, then you will not be ready to transition into a life with God. I can’t tell you who goes where or what happens because the Bible uses a lot of symbols and imagery. Christians have proven fantastically able at misunderstanding the language of the Bible.

But here’s the thing that gets to me: Even if God could one day figure out a way to save everyone and universalism proved to be true, I believe that Christianity still stands strong. While I don’t think universalism is correct, we don’t follow Jesus for our ticket out of hell. We don’t pick up our crosses just to save souls.

Every Christian I meet says that we don’t follow Jesus just to get a ticket to heaven.

And yet, if we agree with this author that Christianity with universalism is meaningless, we prove that we’ve really been in this all along to save our skin and to just provide tickets to heaven. We can do what we want because it really wasn’t all about loving God, loving others, and joining God in his advancing Kingdom.

God’s love is beyond our comprehension.

God’s ways are not our ways.

God’s thoughts are not our thoughts.

What makes us think we can understand the things of eternity?

What makes us think we can limit the love of God?

What makes us think we can stand as judges over anyone else?

I have dedicated myself to following Jesus, loving God and loving others. There is nothing in theology that can change my commitment to Jesus—whether universalism is true or false, nothing changes for me. Honestly, I don’t need to know. When I experience the love and joy of God, it’s an incredible moment of ecstasy, unspeakable and wonderful. It’s a little taste of heaven.

The love of God is that precious pearl for which I sell everything.

When I’m used by Jesus to pray for a prison inmate or to share a word of encouragement to a struggling friend, I get a taste of his invading Kingdom. I drive home from a prison meeting with tears in my eyes because I’ve been part of God’s healing work in this world, bringing his freedom to the here and now, while making an eternal impact. I’d give up anything to feel God’s presence more, to be wrapped in his love, and to share that love with others.

That incredible love is what makes Christianity so compelling for me.

I can sense God’s Kingdom pressing in like a wave on a warm summer day, and I want to ride it as far as it will carry me. When I feel God’s love, I want to pass it on to as many people as I can so that they can know him and his love too in this world and in the next.

God’s Kingdom infects me, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything.

Woe to me if I let anything or anyone deter me from that simple calling. Woe to me if I reduce the expansive love of God into a self-serving ticket that spares my life from hell.

Whether God saves a few or saves us all, I won’t give up my commitment to Jesus. However he sorts out the sheep from the goats, I’m not concerned about protecting my personal ticket to heaven. I have a calling to commit myself to the Kingdom and to make disciples.

The love of God compels me, not an exclusive calling.

When I think about God as a protector, I want someone who will shield me from the hardships of life. I want him to protect me from flat tires, heartbreak, cancer, persecution, and, just being painfully honest here, the Tea Party.

It’s tempting to read the verses in the Bible of God as a protector with a kind of absolute interpretation—applying these verses to myself directly as true for all times and places. If I read about God as a shield, I want him to be a shield in all situations.

Such a line of interpretation is tough to sort out. In one sense, we’ll never know how many times God actually protected us. However, in a world with free will to one degree or another, we can’t get around the fact that hardships await us—Jesus promised us as much.

If we want to preserve our relationships with God and avoid the crushing disappointment of misplaced expectations, it will help to examine some ways that God’s protection may work. I understand that my experiences may not be normative for everyone, nor could this post be exhaustive, so I welcome your feedback and stories in the comments.

God Guides Us

God speaks to his people who are willing to listen—Jesus said my sheep hear my voice. That doesn’t mean he reveals everything to us—not even Jesus knew when God’s Kingdom would be fully restored to earth. Nevertheless, we can benefit by the guidance and wisdom of God in certain situations. That may result in our protection and will certainly help us accomplish God’s work on earth.

God Wants Us to Ask

Jesus makes it clear that we should persistently ask God for what we need, but that doesn’t mean we’ll always ask God for what is good for us, what is realistic, or what is God’s best for us. In fact, I’ve sometimes asked God for things that weren’t good for me—things that would have only continued my dependence on idols. It is good to ask for God’s protection sometimes, but only after we have listened for God’s direction and have said, “Your Kingdom come, your will be done.”

God Does Not Follow Formulas and Incantations

Tim mentioned yesterday in a comment that there is no magic formula or prayer that binds God to act in a certain way. In addition, God’s deliverance in one situation does not mean it will be replicated. There were prophets who were both delivered from their enemies and prophets who were attacked.

God Can Protect Us

All of this points to the fact that God can protect us, but his first goal is to shape us into his chosen people who know him intimately and who can bring his Kingdom’s loving rule to earth. That means our protection is more of a by-product of God’s Kingdom coming than a perk we get in return for our allegiance. The more we embrace the Kingdom, the more we can enjoy the healing and restoration it brings, even if we may face trials and hardships at the same time. 

God Can Use Hardships

This sounds like a terrible Christian cliché, but I’m pretty sure I can say that each hardship in my life has been used by God in one way or another to help someone else or to draw myself and others closer to himself. Perhaps this is because pain shocks us out of our routines and forces us to encounter God in fresh ways, breaking the hold of bad habits or false perceptions.

God’s Perspective on Tragedy is Different from Our Own

As much as I like the idea of the world having an Ed Cyzewski around, the reality I’ve had to confront is that God has work for me to accomplish, I need to seek him and his Kingdom first (asking God what I can do for him), and then God will call me to himself when my time is up. Paul writes about being absent from the body and present with God, which certainly makes death seem more like a transition into something better than the end of something good.

In fact, I’ve had to accept that God’s perception of pain and tragedy is a bit different from my own. While the Bible consistently reveals God as compassionate and mourning with us, he also sees the many good things that we cannot. I want God to give me a long life, but then again, I’m here to love God first and foremost. If my purpose in life is to love God, then it’s not exactly a tragedy if I leave this world to be with him.

God’s Ways are Hard to Understand

We’ll never really know how free will and God’s sovereignty work. The Bible offers us glimpses of both at work. I don’t know why certain prayers are answered and others are not. I don’t know how God’s protection works. One friend of mine asked whether God even protects us in the first place. Perhaps that’s a matter of perspective. I don’t know. Any time we try to say, “I know God is just like this…” I get nervous.

At best we have approximations and informed opinions based on scripture, tradition, and experience.

We know that God wants us to pray, to ask for things, and to trust him as our shield. It sure seems like he wants us to trust him for his protection, but not before we’ve sought him out and made his Kingdom our primary concern.

I think that’s why folks with Stephen, Paul, Aquilla, and Priscilla were able to face mobs and executioners. They saw God as their mighty deliverer and protector, but they also understood that they needed to lay their lives on the line for his Kingdom and not count their lives as anything worth protecting. The Kingdom came first, God’s protection either followed or didn’t follow.

However, in a more eternal sense, God does protect and deliver his people from sin and the power of death. That is the ultimate victory.

Shane Claiborn writes that the beauty of Christianity is that even if we are killed, God will resurrect us. In a sense, God’s people are unstoppable. Even in the seeming loss of death, we’ve actually taken another step toward our victory.

What This Means for Us

There is a lot at stake when we pray. We have very good reason to listen, to wait on God. If we want to ask for God’s protection, we’d better make sure we’re on the same page as God, moving in step with his Kingdom.

We can misunderstand and misrepresent God if we always expect him to deliver us from pain or hardship or if we always expect him to answer our prayers precisely. It’s far more important to seek his Kingdom and his Spirit’s leading voice. That will lead us to safety and security in him, even if our life circumstances seem anything but safe.

For those seeking first God’s Kingdom, Jesus promises trials and hardships, but he also promises healing, protection, restoration, and provision. Until we wrap our minds around what God’s Kingdom means for us, we’ll probably never quite understand what that healing, protection, restoration, or provision will look like.