Move!

"I'll pray for you."

Four powerful words.

Four heartfelt words.

Four controversial words.

My father was a non-denominational preacher and Vietnam era Marine. While he frequently prayed for people under his care and would spend hours in prayer, he rarely said, "I'll pray for you." Likewise, my mother would tell me, "Guard your prayers," or "Take care who you pray for." Why did the two most formative influences in my spiritual life protect promises of prayer so carefully?

I remember spending hours at a rural church listening to my dad and our senior pastor, associated preachers, and visiting evangelists talk about the power of prayer. During the 1970s, these sermons often lasted three and four hours. Preachers would instruct congregants to pray constantly, deliberately, and honestly. They would tell us that prayer isn't some formatted, practiced recitation full of "thee" and "thou." No. Prayer was simply a conversation with God - a communion with the Maker of the universe. When they promised to pray for someone, it was always well received.

That was then.

This is now.

Why, Servant Leader, do so many people in these United States scoff when a Christian says, "I'll pray for you?" Have they not heard the Biblical account of two angels against Sodom and Gomorrah? Have they not read of Daniel sleeping with the lions? Have they not considered the rock that sealed Christ's tomb?

Elevation Worship sings a song called "Rattle!" the premise of which is about the power of God. One verse says simply...

"Just ask the stone

That was rolled

At the tomb in the garden

What happens when God says to move"

And the chorus...

"Open the grave

I'm coming out"

Servant Leader, the rock moved. Whether the angels rolled the stone away or the rock rolled itself at the sound of Christ's breath is known only to the angels and the rock, but it moved nonetheless.

So then, why are our prayers mocked today? Why, when a Christian says, "I'll pray for you" does the world mock us as insincere and unwilling to "actually do anything"? When a Christian hears of a mass shooting or mass devastation from tornadoes or flooding, why is the promise of prayer so easily dismissed?

As I get older, I understand why my parents cautioned me against too frivolously tossing around the phrase, "I'll pray for you." They understood the power in those words and the impact of a world desensitized to them. They understood the commitment a promise of prayer holds. Maybe they understood a little better than we do today what happens when God says "Move."

Then again, maybe more prayer is exactly what we need.

As another Christmas approaches and rings in the changing of a New Year, let's remember as a nation what Sodom and Gomorrah forgot. Let's remember what the lions knew instinctively. Let's remember how the rock reacted when Christ said, "I'm coming out."

And if you need a rock moved, Servant Leader, just ask.

I'll pray for you.

Merry Christmas!

(Photo: courtesy of St. Peter's Church, Toronto)