It has been quite some time since my last "Articles of the Week" installment. In truth, by midday Wednesday, I had been thinking I should pick a topic to highlight at the week's end, because I had come across a number of good articles on several different topics of personal interest (for some of those, see my re-Tweets).
But then Wednesday midday rolled around, and the news of the election of a new pope. Here are a few of the thoughts I have read this week about it all:
On Wednesday morning, Timothy C. Morgan at Christianity Today shared his thoughts on why Protestants should care about the papacy (the piece also appears in the April print issue).
Thursday morning, the Chicago Tribune editorial board shared its thoughts on the reputation of "Father Jorge," and James Weiss of Boston College offered his predictions about the Francis papacy.
The Economist had to effect a quick turn-around, but its report on the Francis election, with editorial thoughts on the new pope's opportunities (and likelihood) to effect great change, made it to press.
Back at Christianity Today, Ruth Moon outlined the (many positive) implications of the Francis papacy for the evangelical Christian world, and Melissa Steffan interviewed evangelist Luis Palau on his friendship with and thoughts on Francis I.
"As our body cannot live without nourishment, so our soul cannot live without prayer," St. Augustine said.
I thought I would share how I conduct my daily prayers.
(First, though, I should note that I pray more than once a day. What follows is a description of my extended, end-of-the-day personal time of prayer.)
When I was in junior high, I was introduced to the ACTS method of prayer: Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, and Supplication. About a year ago, though, I switched to a somewhat different method, that of praying through the day just finished and the day about to come.
As I think back on the day that is ending, I offer praises, confessions, and petitions to God based on the events, in the sequence they occurred. For example, I will thank God for a safe commute to work. I may then repeat prayers offered during the morning staff prayer time. If a particular student was struggling with something (or particulalry successful with something, also), I will then pray for him or her. And so on. The reason I find this method a bit more helpful than ACTS is that some events in a given day merit some combination of the four types of prayer in ACTS, and thus I can spend extended time on one event/concern without feeling like I have to wait to talk to God about it in a different way.
Then I move on to tomorrow, praying through everything I have planned for that day. From there, I move onto less time-specific concerns, such as praying for family members, friends, colleagues, institutions, and current events.
Naturally, I may abandon this method if on one day something is weighing very heavily on my heart, but thinking about each specific request I make to God within the context of "praying through the day" helps me keep perspective on what is on my heart and mind, and that perspective in turn helps me see how God is working through everything I experience.
Do you have a certain way you structure your prayer time? Share your ideas in the comments section below!
The passage has the heading "Jesus Heals a Man Born Blind" in the English Standard Version, and while John does chronicle such an event in this passage, as Todd points out, the passage is about so much more than that miracle. In the conversations that happen after the miraculous healing, we find an exposition on Jesus' mission in the world - and with it a challenge to the church for all ages. Listen to this exciting sermon for more!
Many alumni, including me, regularly read the confessions
made via the Wheaton Confessions page. Many of the posts have made me roll my
eyes, shake my head, and think, “Only at Wheaton…” And I am not judging at all
when I say that – I love Wheaton’s uniqueness, and I am eternally grateful to
have been part of it!
Other confessions, though, have broken my heart. The
revelations that someone has deeply hurt the confessor. The confessor who made
up a reason for not going to the President’s Ball to avoid speaking the real
reason. The cynical, the depressed, the bitter, the frustrated, the
disappointed, and the lonely. Those on the receiving end of harsh, senseless,
thoughtless judgment. Those young men and women struggling with same-sex
attraction who fear seeking counsel. Those longing for a hug.
Some may wonder, what is the root cause of all this
suffering beneath the surface of the quick wit, good looks, and full course
load of the typical Wheaton student?
Friends, it is not unique to Wheaton. The church at large
struggles with hiding its brokenness beneath the surface. For it is simply this
– our broken, sinful, fallen state – that is the cause of many of the
confessions. I say this not to blame or judge anyone, but to acknowledge the
reality of our condition. I think the “beneath the surface” phenomenon is
magnified at Wheaton because it is a small community that lives together during
one of the most precarious times of life – that time when you are first free
from your parents’ ubiquitous influence and you have to (begin to) decide who
you are. It is also the first time most students have been in a residential,
explicitly Christian community, and the shock of discovering all the brokenness
is painful after all the wide smiles in admissions office brochures. Much has
been written and said about this phase by wiser and more verbose people than
me.
The point, to put it bluntly, is that every single member of
the Wheaton community is a sinner. Every one has broken the Covenant – and I do
not mean “breaking” in the sense of purposefully disregarding the prohibitions
against, e.g., alcohol. In the section “Living the Christian Life,” the Community
Covenant affirms several marks of the Christian lifestyle, based on Scripture.
These include “show evidence of the Holy Spirit,” “love and side with what is
good in God’s eyes and abhor what is evil,” and “be people of integrity.”
I fell short of these marks when I was a student at Wheaton.
But truthfully, if I could have chosen anywhere to be when I fell short, it
would be Wheaton.
I agree fully with Confession #48 and later ones like it: “I
actually really like Wheaton. I’ve been blessed by my professors and have grown
incredibly in my faith. Wheaton is a broken place full of sinners, but I’m so
glad I’ve been here.”
That was my experience, and the experience of countless
other alumni. Many of us alumni pray for you all – every day. We pray that God
would be your strength in times of weakness and your joy in times of sorrow. We
pray that God would fill you with the Holy Spirit as you sharpen your minds and
soften your hearts to reach this lost and broken world that He loves so much.
In even the two years since I graduated, I have cried out to God many times
to cover the college community with His Spirit.
And so, Wheaton, if I may, let me offer you but one
challenge. Run to the Cross. Run. To. The. Cross. Fall prostrate at the feet of
Jesus. His endless grace has covered all your stains, and made you whiter than
the first beautiful, pristine snowfall that covers the campus every winter. His
death has made the way for you to be reconciled with God. His resurrection
changed the course of human history, and it can change your life, and those of
your roommates, classmates, teammates, lab partners, chapel buddies, CFAs, and the people you see at Sunday brunch,
dressed in their Sunday best but hurting so much on the inside.
This is not an easy fix. There is no easy fix to all that
plagues us in the already but not yet. C.S. Lewis noted that nowhere does
Scripture promise the Christian an easy life. The exact opposite is a better
reading of Christ’s words. Christ Himself suffered beyond all we can
comprehend. But Christ, just before He ascended into heaven, promised the
disciples His everlasting presence and help in time of need. That is what I
(and many, many other alumni) pray for you every day – that you would stop
relying on your own strength, but rather reach out and grasp the hand that reaches
down from heaven. It is the hand of the Lord Jesus, who died not just so that
you would live, but that so you would flourish. That you would find healing and
restoration beyond your wildest dreams.
I say this not as someone who has “figured it all out.” Far,
far from it. But I hope my words may be of some encouragement to you all as you
approach each new day at Wheaton.
Run to the Cross, Wheaton! Find there all you need and so
much more.
