Threads from Henry's Web

Category: Prayer

  • Dutch Sheets and Dominionism

    I have previously written about the term “dominionism,” one which I don’t find very helpful as a label for a political position. So I was very interested to hear Dutch Sheets, one of those called (by some) a dominionist, make reference to the term.

    I was invited as a Christian leader to hear Dutch Sheets speak at Kingsway Church in Pensacola, Florida (I was unable to locate a web page for Kingsway). I’m thankful for the invitation to this session for pastors and leaders. This post isn’t a critique of that talk, but rather deals with just a few moments of his presentation that relate to the term “dominionism” which has been very controversial. I will need to mention some of my own political views in delineating the various positions.

    The bulk of the presentation dealt with the role of the church. Sheets is anxious (as I am) for us to get away from the idea that “church” is a building or a gathering at which we babysit the pew-sitters. That’s an incredible simplification of what he was saying, as he has some very specific points to make about just how we do it, but I think disagreements over details of strategy shouldn’t make us miss the main point.

    He says that the church has elevated just one of the offices (or better, gifts), pastor, over all the others, and thus has gotten unbalanced. By nature, pastors nurture people. But a group that wants to get something done needs leaders who will also get people moving. Pastors may do that to some extent, but we’ve emphasized the care and nurture part.

    He builds the way in which this happens around a broad scope of biblical history, starting with creation and the fall. Humanity is created and given dominion, then loses that dominion at the fall. Christ comes and restores what was lost. He takes the specific meaning of “legislative assembly” for the Greek word “ekklesia,” and uses it as an example of what the church is to do—act with authority. One might debate his extension of that particular meaning of the word to the New Testament, but nonetheless it gives the flavor of what he means by the church taking authority.

    It was in this context that he brought up the term “dominionist.” He indicated that he didn’t like the label, but at the same time, he noted that if it’s defined as noted above—that humanity had dominion, lost it, that Christ came and restored it, and that the church carries on that mission—then in those terms he’s a dominionist.

    I can see this term from a theological point of view. His view places a strong emphasis on the word “dominion.” You’ll hear him use that word much more than your average speaker. And if you make differences of emphasis central, then you could say his view is somewhat different from what is usually preached on this point. How frequently do you hear the word “dominion” in a discussion of the atonement? But as I mentioned earlier, I’m not writing to critique his presentation, but to clarify what he means.

    What that dominionism, as he (reluctantly) accepted the term, means in politics became clear when he discussed specifically what it would mean for the church to be “ekklesia” as he defined it. In politics, he used the example of the young man who is interested in changing education. He said that as Christians we do not use force (he repeated this a number of times). What we want, he said, is for a young man to go out, get a PhD, become the superintendent of schools, and then we would be able to do things about prayer in schools. (Prayer was the specific example he used.)

    Since it is currently quite legal for students to pray in school in the United States, despite some school boards’ overreactions, but not legal for school officials or teachers to lead or prescribe prayer, I’m going to assume that what Sheets wants here is for officially led or prescribed prayer. That would seem to be the one thing a school superintendent could work on regarding prayer in public schools. Of course, one would need to have lawyers educated and on the Supreme Court, legislators at various levels of government (a constitutional amendment might be required), and so forth.

    This was the example Sheets used of the impact of the church acting as a legislative assembly (ekklesia as he defined it) for the world. So there is a particular political strategy that comes out of the church behaving as he is calling on it to do. Understand that the presentation was only about two hours, so he did not have time to flesh it out. I have used the most fleshed out example I heard.

    So how much different is this from the basic idea that Christians should live their values in the public sphere? (I’m avoiding the “seven mountains” terminology, though that did come up.) I would simply note that there are a variety of views on how a Christian acts as part of one of the “kingdoms of this world” while being a citizen of the kingdom of heaven. For some, being part of the kingdom of heaven means no political participation at all. We witness for the kingdom of heaven, but we do not become part of the political structures. At the other extreme would be Christians who believe that we will successively take over the world’s governments until, by that means, the rule of Christ will extend to the entire world. In addition, there would be variations on just what methods are justified in pursuing those goals. Sheets specifically rejected the idea that Christians would take over the whole world; he said God would come in and finish it in a sweep.

    I personally believe that Christians should participate in a secular, pluralistic society as moral and ethical people, but not in a way that would make the society less friendly to those of other beliefs. In fact, because of the freedom I believe God gives us, I think we should make society more friendly. If the Muslims in my community want to build a mosque, I’m there to back them up. At the same time, this means I disagree on the issue of prayer in public schools. My imaginary Christian young man would grow up, get a PhD, and be the person who makes life more comfortable for an atheist student, rather than the one who requires that the atheist student hear a prescribed prayer or do Bible study.

    Sheets emphasized that he does not believe in force. I appreciate that. It distinguishes him from some extremists, and it’s a critical distinction. At the same time, my concern is that, as soon as we as Christians have the power of the state behind us, we are, by nature, employing force. I think Christian history suggests that when we bring the power of the state to bear in religious issues, the results are not good either for the church or the state. Sheets explicitly said “no separation of church and state,” though it’s important to note he said that from the church’s point of view, i.e. the church doesn’t separate itself from the state.

    At this point I see “dominionism” as a possibly useful theological label. I’m still not convinced it’s useful as a political label, and hearing Sheets speak only further convinced me of this. His position on political issues, and on the church’s action in the political sphere, is essentially the dominant position of the Christian right. They wish to get elected and enact laws that favor Christianity in the public sphere. It’s no secret. I don’t see the need for a separate label. In Escambia County Florida, where I live, that’s pretty much the definition of a conservative Republican, with the note that there’s hardly any other kind of Republican around these parts.

    Theologically, there is a greater difference, because Sheets has tied theology and the action of the church much more closely to this specific agenda. But it’s specifically of that usage that he acknowledged the term “dominionist” in the first place. And I want to note that I see his theology as a different emphasis on various elements of existing theology, and not something created out of whole cloth.

    My concern is that the more detailed of a political strategy we pursue, the more opportunities we have for division over things that are not central. That could be further illustrated by how very American both Sheets’ presentation and my response are. How does this relate to various countries in Africa? What about to Christians living in the Muslim world? How does our tying Christianity to American political goals impact the gospel message worldwide?

    I know there are dangers working from memory on hearing someone talk. As a writer and speaker myself, I generally prefer people to work from my written works, and I’d prefer my views to be taken from my books rather than my blog, if there’s a conflict. At the same time, what someone says in a more informal setting may well reflect one’s views more accurately.

    So take this as my impressions. It didn’t really shift my view on the application of the term “dominionism.” It reinforced and clarified my existing position.

     

  • On Praying for My Country

    Some time ago I was teaching a Sunday School class and the topic of prayer at public events came up. Now I would have a serious problem offering prayer at a public event. Though I support the idea of separation of church and state, my major objection is not based on the constitutional principle. After all, courts have allowed prayers in congress.

    My opposition is simply that I believe public prayer is prayer offered for a group. If it is just a ritual, or if it cannot reasonably be expected that the group joining in the prayer actually does join, then to me it is empty. I could sit out in my car and pray for a blessing on the activities of government, but I could not stand up in the group and offer a prayer as though God and the governmental meeting were on the same program.

    In my private prayers for the government, I pray largely that God will give wisdom to political leaders. I do not make the assumption that those political leaders and the political system under which I live are somehow more on God’s program than any other.

    I think that prayers at government events are not designed to invoke God’s favor, nor are they designed to seek God’s will. They are designed to give the impression that those who are doing the government’s business are, in fact, blessed, and are somehow blessed. It’s the whitewash on the sepulcher.

    In any case, to get back to the story, my explanation of my own view didn’t get through. One gentleman raised his hand and said, “I think you just don’t have the courage of your convictions.”

    “No,” I told him, “I don’t have the courage of your convictions.”

    In the discussion that followed, it became clear that he simply could not conceive of a reason for not offering a public prayer, other than that I was afraid of offending people in the audience. He (and many in the room) were so certain that this was an appropriate activity that they simply couldn’t see any reason not to. To them, America is God’s country, a Christian nation, and there’s no problem with Christian prayers.

    I was reminded of this when reading this post by Arthur Sido (HT: Dave Black Online via Christian-Archy.com). This is a topic that will shock many, many American Christians. Why not wear a “God Bless America” T-Shirt? It’s not something they’ve ever considered. The conviction that God is on our side runs very deep. Often it erupts in the claim that American policy carries out God’s will, either knowingly or unknowingly. That claim in turn can lead us to give up the church’s mission and ministry to the world.

    If we truly believe that the Gospel is “God’s power for salvation to everyone who believes” then we ought to act that way. But over and over again our solutions for economic problems, crime, moral issues, and even family relations is to get the government to solve it for us. I don’t doubt that the government needs to have its eye on such things, but how much of our effort as Christians needs to be used in that way?

    Would we not change more people and make more of a difference in our world by living and proclaiming (and I believe proclaiming without living is no proclamation at all) the good news accomplish more than all the political activism we can do as a church?

    I don’t know this, but I think most of us simply don’t believe that the Gospel will transform people’s lives. I don’t think we really believe the Gospel will work. I suspect that, throughout Christian history, our resort to the sword of the state results from a lack of faith.

    The separation I’m most concerned about is the separation where the church says, “We cannot compromise the gospel with the state’s structures of power. We need to stay away to maintain the integrity of the gospel.” The theological separation is more important than the constitutional.

     

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  • Keep Prayer and Advocacy Separate

    Downtown Pensacola sign, taken by me.
    Image via Wikipedia

    I was deeply troubled a few years back when attending a meeting of Christians called to pray for our city (Pensacola, FL). One pastor who was asked to pray for our political leaders offered a prayer that was more of a Republican agenda of things he hoped God would accomplish through our government. I was profoundly troubled by that prayer, especially in an interdenominational setting, but I would be concerned anywhere.

    Yesterday, I received an e-mail from Sojourners, and it led me to this page calling for fasting and prayer regarding a moral budget.

    Now let me be clear here. I do see my vote as a moral issue, i.e., I should advocate for things I regard as morally right. I should pray about the way I act in the public square. Further, I have no problem with praying for those in government.

    What I have a problem with is combining prayer and my political advocacy. There are things I believe should be done about our budget. These result from my best understanding of how one should implement good government. I have prayed about them and will continue to do so. But I don’t ask God in prayer to do things my way, and I try never to use my prayer life or my fasting as a way to influence others in their decision making.

    To a certain extent I see this as running afoul of the early verses of Matthew 6. But being well aware of the Sermon on the Mount, I must also ask if I’m being too critical.

    What do you think?

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  • Bruce Epperly on Prayer Changing Things

    I wrote recently that I prefer “prayer changes you” to “prayer changes things” but I don’t deny that prayer changes things. But how?

    Bruce Epperly contributes a post to Ponderings on a Faith Journey that looks at this along with the idea of human freedom. I know that any form of open theism tends to make some people crazy, but I think many of us talk and behave as though something like this is true, even while affirming God’s eternal plans. In fact, I might suggest that living with such tensions is something God intended us to do! Nonetheless I find this discussion challenging and useful.

    For my own notes on prayer, which come to a somewhat less firm conclusion, see my essays The Hand of God, The Hand of God – Miracles, and The Hand of God – Prayer. They date from ancient times, or rather 2003.

  • Respect for Other Prayers

    According to the Christian Post:

    About a dozen delegates did not attend the prayer of Johari Abdul-Malik.

    “I’m going to be somewhere else saying the Lord’s Prayer,” Delegate John Cox (R-Ashland) told CBN News. “It’s just not something that I feel like I can condone as an individual.”

    Yet when I get into conversations on the topic of public Christian prayers, I’m regularly told that other people shouldn’t be bothered. They can just observe a moment of silence.

    Concerns surrounding the prayer were not driven by the fact that it was a Muslim prayer but by the troubling associations the imam has.

    Sorry, but I don’t believe it. The explanation given, that two of the 9/11 hijackers attended the same mosque, at a time when Johari Abdul-Malik wasn’t there, just doesn’t wash for me.

  • Prayer in a Public Meeting

    If I were invited to offer the invocation at a government event at which people of any faith should be welcome, I would have to refuse. This is a stand that has been misunderstood by both supporters and opponents of separation of church and state. I have been told that I lack the courage of my convictions because I would not go and utter a purely Christian prayer under those circumstances. Of course, I must note that it is not the courage of my convictions that is lacking, but rather I don’t have the courage of someone else’s convictions. On the other hand I have been told that I am intolerant because I will not offer an interfaith prayer.

    I was reminded of this issue today when Wesley Elsberry linked to this story about a council member in Tampa who chides speakers for offering too sectarian of prayers, which she believes violates the separation of church and state.

    I have an initial issue that I’m not going to address in detail, and that is how it can be that a prayer in general doesn’t violate church and state separation, yet a prayer in the name of Jesus does. The first would seem to exclude all those who either do not believe in God at all or do not believe in a way that includes the validity of prayer.

    And that does relate to my problem a little bit. Personally I think prayer is largely personal. Now I don’t mean it can’t be public. Matthew 6:5-6 has been cited ad nauseum as a prohibition of all forms of public prayer, but I think that verse has been asked to bear an excessive weight. Jesus is addressing making a show of one’s piety. When might one pray publicly and not be making a show of one’s piety? In my view, that would be a case of corporate prayer, when a group of people join together in prayer.

    Corporate prayer involves a certain amount of agreement, a certain commonness of purpose in worship. When I am asked to pray publicly, I do not feel that I need to preach a sermon in prayer. I’m sometimes a bit amused when someone informs God of all the things that the congregation needs to know, normally while saying something like “you know Lord …”

    My conviction is that if I am offering my prayer publicly, but it is not a corporate prayer, it automatically becomes a show. I should not pray something corporately that I cannot fully invite everyone to participate in, as I would in a pastoral prayer, or an invocation in a Sunday School class, or in a group offering the blessing over a meal. I have even left out praying before a meal when meeting with non-believing friends. They know my convictions, and I don’t think God will miss the meal because I chose not to impose my beliefs on a group.

    I do think that invocations at governmental meetings are a public show. The council (or congress) as a whole is not going to seek God’s will. The meeting should be welcoming to all citizens, not just those who pray, and the prayer cannot be offered in real unity nor in any sort of expectation of obedience. I believe that a critical part of prayer is listening, something that should be included in our acts of prayer as congregations.

    Are there any ecumenical or interfaith circumstances under which I do believe I can pray? Yes, I believe so. I can do so in practically any ecumenical setting, though I will shape my prayer to the best of my ability so as to make it truly corporate. I can and have engaged in prayer in an interfaith setting where all believe in God and all believe in prayer.

    The latter is a bit difficult for me, as my view of both ecumenism and interfaith dialog is that it is a conversation between strongly held beliefs, not a least common denominator collection. I think that continuing constructive conversation is much more important than is some sort of structural unity.

    So I would say that the council member in the story is only half right. Were I invited to pray at that council, or any other, I would just say no. I’d pray for them at home or with others of like mind. I’d be happy if the individuals prayed according to their conscience and understanding of God.

    The public display? No.

  • How to Keep Religion in the Public Square

    Every so often there’s another outburst of complaints about how religion is being suppressed in this country, and how it no longer has its place in the public square. And there are the occasional really silly incidents that actually support such a claim. I note, for example, that our local public library here in Pensacola, Florida refuses to permit religious groups to conduct meetings, which is simply a lawsuit waiting to happen.

    On the other hand, many, and I suspect most, of the complaints arise more from inconvenience, and the legitimate requirements that people use some kind of etiquette in the way in which they use the public square. The complaint of suppression is frequently actually a complaint that one is not getting the proper strokes, or that the government is not funding one’s favorite religious cause.

    WorldNetDaily has an article complaining that a clause forbidding the use of stimulus money to build buildings whose main use is religious. For example, you can’t build a seminary with the money. (HT: Dispatches.) They do this with the ridiculous headline, Stimulus to ban religious worship. Yeah, right. Either from the church or the state side, I very much do not want the government constructing buildings for religious purposes.

    But if we Christians do not have what we think is our proper place in the public square, why is that? Is it because of suppression? Christianity is, after all, the majority religion. I do note, however, that when this is limited to True ChristiansTM, no matter who gets to make the definition, the number drops substantially.

    But it seems to me that we’re so busy complaining about the opportunities we don’t have (and I’m not prejudicing the issue of what privileges we should have) that we aren’t really taking advantage of the privileges and opportunities we do have.

    If you are a parent who complains that children can’t pray at school, let me ask a couple of questions. Did you take the time to pray with your children before you sent them out to the bus stop? Will you pray with them when they get home? Will you take time out of your schedule today to pray for your children during their time at school? And even more, have you investigated just where and when at school your children can pray? Have you taught them how to pray for themselves?

    If you are complaining that our young people aren’t getting enough Biblical education, again let me ask you a few questions. Have you read your Bible today? Have you chosen a passage and really studied it, so that if someone referenced it in literature you’d “get” it? Have you or will you take time with your children to study the Bible or something about your faith? Do you encourage your children to read the Bible? Do you see to it that they know something about their church community?

    And more importantly, have you let that life of prayer and Bible study impact the way you act in the public square? When you ask “what would Jesus do?” does it come out to something other than your own inclinations? Do people who meet you know you’re a Christian? If they find out you’re a Christian will their opinion of Christians improve?

    If you don’t relate to many of the things I’m suggesting, I think you should reconsider complaints about being restricted in your religious activities. You aren’t taking advantage of the many opportunities that are available.

    If you or your children aren’t praying enough or studying the Bible enough, is it the fault of the much maligned ACLU? Or is it a result of your desire to have somebody else take care of your children’s religious education because you don’t actually care enough to take the time to do it yourself?

  • The Difficulty of Appropriate Public Prayer

    MSNBC.com reports that there is a bit of a kerfuffle over whether Rick Warren will use the name of Jesus in his prayer at Barack Obama’s inauguration. At the same time we have a group of atheist and humanist groups suing to prevent any prayer at all at this public event.

    I confess to mixed emotions about the public prayer, largely because I think that the event reflects not only the public, but also the person who has been elected to that office, and Barack Obama is a believer. I could quite easily regard the prayer as relating more to him as a person than as something that is intended to reflect the country as a whole. While I may have mixed emotions, I would suspect that the lawsuit is doomed to failure, except in producing publicity, because we still have military chaplains and prayers to open the houses of congress, and the courts have shown no inclination to stop them.

    But I have more problem with a public prayer as a Christian than I do as a political matter, something that has only been stirred up and sharpened by discussions with a friend of mine who is a pastor and who gets invited to pray at public events. There are two major points involved. First, for most trinitarian Christians, prayer in the name of Jesus (or in a trinitarian formula in some cases) is the way to pray–it is prayer. Second, just what is it that we expect a pastoral prayer at a public event to accomplish? As my friend has pointed out to me, and I agree, the public bodies over which prayer is offered are not going to actually seek God’s guidance and blessing as a group. They’re going to go right on doing whatever they were going to do anyhow. And it’s difficult to expect a public body that is diverse in beliefs to do so.

    So in that case the public prayer becomes, in many ways, an act of idolatry. It is a pretense at worship, but not the reality. A critical part of the Lord’s prayer is “thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Show me the public body here in the United States that intends to behave in that particular way. And with acute awareness of my atheist and other non-Christian friends, that is not a prayer that can be prayed collectively by a public body, expected to act in a secular way to govern a diverse body of people.

    Were I an elected individual, I could individually pray that God guide me, even though I must express my viewpoint in non-religious terms in public debate. And note here that I can only express my viewpoint in non-religious terms if it is honestly supportable in non-religious terms. That means that I can pray the Lord’s prayer for myself, but that collectively prayed, it becomes an outright lie. Any prayer prayed in the name of Jesus is similarly supposed to be “under the authority of” as well as “in the name of” and thus, in my view, becomes idolatrous if prayed corporately on behalf of those who do not consent.

    Given that there will be prayer at the inaugural event, I think the explosion of hostility over the selection of Rick Warren to offer that prayer is at best overdone. President-elect Obama, in my view, thinks he’s secure in his liberal credentials and wishes to reach out to a block of voters. That’s the political view. Thinking of it as a Christian I am much less comfortable, not because I don’t think Rick Warren can pray for, with, and on behalf of Barack Obama, but because I think it’s somewhere between difficult and impossible for him to pray on behalf of the inaugural crowd and certainly on behalf of the nation as a whole.

    I understand pastoral prayers in congregations to be collective, that is that the pastor prays both for and on behalf of the people. Those who are more theologically and liturgically oriented than I am may argue this. I don’t see how this can be transplanted to the public square.

    Yet we do so constantly in this country. I’m not sure where my conscience would lead me if I were a pastor. My friend doesn’t want to pray at public events (not in church), a position with which I sympathize. The only compromise position I can see is praying in public, but seeing this as praying solely on one’s own behalf, and for the gathered audience. Trouble is, unlike pastoral prayer in which I believe all participate, I think this sounds a great deal like a violation of the principle expressed in Matthew 6:1-6. The prayer becomes a public show, or perhaps a political show.

    I like interfaith dialogue, but I like interfaith prayer much less. I prefer the idea that in interfaith dialogue all sides maintain their distinctives honestly and openly, yet celebrate the diversity. In my view too much interfaith dialogue involves homogenization and blandness rather than actual celebration of diversity, combined with robust but respectful discussion and debate.

    Readers are free to see this as a modification or even a partial repudiation of my view expressed here, where I considered the invitation solely from the political point of view.

  • When Prayer is Depressing

    One of the depressing things about prayer is just what will catch media attention. In this MSNBC.com article, we’re told about Stuart Shepard of Focus on the Family praying that it would rain on Barack Obama’s speech at the Democratic National Convention. I had seen this at the time, but it came back to my attention in the last couple of days as we discussed praying about hurricanes. I’ll get back to the hurricanes in a moment.

    The article notes:

    A couple of weeks before August 28th—the night that Barack Obama accepted the Democratic nomination for President, in a Denver football stadium—Stuart Shepard, the digital-media director of the lobbying arm of Focus on the Family, one of the most powerful organizations on the religious right, posed a question to his Internet viewers. “Would it be wrong,” he asked, “to pray for rain?” Shepard’s answer, apparently, was no, because he proceeded to do just that. He prayed for there to be rain—abundant rain, torrential rain, “rain of Biblical proportions”—in Denver on August 28th. “I’m praying for unexpected, unanticipated, unforecasted rain that starts two minutes before the speech is set to begin,” he said, adding, “I know there will probably be people who will pray for seventy-two degrees and clear skies, but this isn’t a contest.”

    It’s a good thing for him that he said it wasn’t a contest, because if it was a contest, he would have lost. But it also presents a depressingly bad picture of prayer. Is it any wonder that prayer has a bad reputation with many people. Praying is for kooks and bigots. It is supposed to serve to get us what we want and to make sure our enemies don’t get what they want. It’s supposed to provide us with special information from God so that we can be one up on our neighbors.

    And while I’m at it, let me detour to the silly response of many to Barack Obama making a speech before 75,000 (and actually more) people. If it was a Christian gathering, we wouldn’t think the speaker was crazy, or over the top, or egotistical (at least any more than is required for becoming president.) Barack Obama speaks well. He attracts large crowds. It was the logical action to take. There was no particular reason God should send rain on his crowd any more than any other.

    But the problem I want to address is the picture of prayer that all this type of talk presents. Prayers that curse certain people, prayers that wish harm on others, prayers that are simply said in order to get one some material benefit, are not really the kind of prayers that Jesus presented. Yes, I know he talked about faith and moving mountains, but one has to ask just how his disciples heard such things. We note that they neither moved any mountains nor did they complain that they couldn’t. People deride “spiritualizing,” but sometimes spiritual statements are, for some reason, spiritual.

    All this came back to me as Hurricane Gustav approached the Gulf Coast. Of course I would prefer that the hurricane not come to Pensacola. In my own very selfish way I like comfort. But at the same time, is there any conceivable reason I should pray that God send a hurricane over to New Orleans, which is largely below sea level, in order to spare Pensacola, which is largely above sea level, merely to spare my precious (to me) body, which is incidentally parked there?

    I think it’s silly, and even beyond that, nasty and thoughtless. Of course, I don’t actually believe my prayers steer hurricanes in any case. I think hurricanes follow God’s natural laws and go where they’re supposed to go. It would be much more constructive for me to pray that my own attitude toward other people would be changed, and that I would, in turn, change the attitude of many other people.

    In fact, I believe that change of attitude is the primary benefit of prayer. Somebody, somewhere is going to accuse me of not believing in the power of prayer because I said that. They’ll say I don’t believe in a supernatural God. I can always answer that I do believe God performs miracles sometimes. But that’s not the main point. I’m more interested in God performing the miracle of changing my attitude, which is continually in need of adjustment, and doing so on a regular basis. Personally I think that’s power!

    Yet many Christians in places that don’t get hit by a hurricane will be praising God that it missed them, while ignoring the people who got hit. I really don’t think most of the folks who do it actually have any bad attitude. They’re just thankful, and that’s good. But I think we need to be more conscious of the times when our good fortune means hardship for someone else.

    I recall one hurricane, though I can’t remember the name, that we thought might come to the gulf coast. Lots of folks were praying that it would go somewhere else. Well, it missed us, where it would have most likely killed a few dozen people, and it went to Central America where it killed a few thousand.

    Perhaps we should take greater consideration of the Lord’s prayer, praying for God’s will on earth, rather than our own, and of Paul’s admonition in Philippians 2:4, to look not after our own interests, but after the interests of others. That is, after all, what Jesus would do.