Meanwhile, Back in the Intercessory Room
If you were reading this blog a few years back you might recall that I began volunteering in an intercessory prayer circle at church. During each service, a small group meets behind the stage in a tiny dressing room. The church is actually an historic building that, the other 6 days of the week, is a venue for concerts and even the occasional wrestling match. From 1929-1989, it was a Presbyterian church. It sat empty for over a decade before it was restored as The Harriet Himmel Gilman Theater. The neighborhood around it, which had fallen on some serious hard times, was razed in the late 90s and a new outdoor shopping plaza (also with condos around and atop the business tenants) was built. Christ Fellowship uses the Harriet as a worship center every Sunday. Its placement among a consumer paradise and constant foot traffic is ideal.
My wife and I have attended this campus since 2005. The services are geared mainly to younger folk, with a contemporary band and some well produced (if often too produced) videos preceding an always insightful message from the pastor, John Poitevent, who is around my age. His preaching is unpretentious and free of the sort of slick and polished styles I grew up with in a Baptist church. He cuts to the marrow with relatable examples, all backed up biblically. His messages are not some shallow feel-good pap designed to let congregants off the hook. Any believer listening to John will be challenged and squirm more than once. As it should be.
The remainder of the services sometimes get a bit flashier (and louder) than I would prefer, but the meat is there.
I have spent one Sunday a month for the last 4 years joining 1-4 others praying over the service, the church staff, congregations, missionaries, local missions, and also for those who submitted prayer requests. My first week, I was stunned at how open people were with their problems. The things people wrote were honest, painful truths that we often shy away from. Four years later, this has not changed.
This past Sunday was a first - I was the only person who came to pray (2 others were scheduled to join me). It was not odd to me. After a few minutes, I dug right in. I even spoke aloud a few times. There on the familiar table was a stack of requests from the last month - most asking for prayers for ill family members, bruised marriages, employment. Some were very specific, including one for a young man who was considering a sex change operation.
That last one got me to thinking - if he went through with it, would he be welcome at our church? Would security try (politely) to escort him away? Our services are filled with folks of all ages in all manner of dress; some are homeless. But I still wonder. I grew up in a church where those who didn't look or smell right were asked to leave; don't want to offend the big tithers! It was always convicting (and remains so) when someone who is loud, inappropriate, or unkempt shows up. We espouse agape love yet still put unspoken conditions upon it.
As I prayed I was also convicted of my attitudes toward other Christians who I feel are close minded and bigoted. Nothing like staring into the face of your own prejudices while calling out others on theirs. It was a good thing for me to pray solo this past week. I was amazed I was able to do this for nearly an hour without much pause. At times, I did not use words. I aspire to the model of prayer in Daniel Chapter 9. So should any believer.
I am a far from perfect Christian, and I feel more and more isolated from others who share my faith as I get older (and hopefully wiser) for reasons I've covered here before. I'm having trouble relating to most of them, usually in our incompatibility of political and social views. Plus, sometimes hard, deductive, evidence-based thinking seems incompatible with faith, and many Christians are unwilling to go beyond a bumper sticker slogan like "The Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it." in their paradigms.
I cringe at the behavior of many Christians; it leaves little doubt as to why faith is so often ridiculed. If "we're the only Jesus" others see, there's little hope. I am reminded of that line in the Godley & Creme song, "Punch Bag":
To Jesus I pray
For strength to survive
Your Christian soldiers
Ouch.
But what did I say about judging? I am just as guilty.
Back to the dressing room: to sit and "hear" the still small voice was some of the most powerful worship I've experienced lately. And it was a solitary action. Prayer is as necessary as breathing for me. I look forward to others praying with me, for more intercession, the next time.
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.
-Romans 8:26
My wife and I have attended this campus since 2005. The services are geared mainly to younger folk, with a contemporary band and some well produced (if often too produced) videos preceding an always insightful message from the pastor, John Poitevent, who is around my age. His preaching is unpretentious and free of the sort of slick and polished styles I grew up with in a Baptist church. He cuts to the marrow with relatable examples, all backed up biblically. His messages are not some shallow feel-good pap designed to let congregants off the hook. Any believer listening to John will be challenged and squirm more than once. As it should be.
The remainder of the services sometimes get a bit flashier (and louder) than I would prefer, but the meat is there.
I have spent one Sunday a month for the last 4 years joining 1-4 others praying over the service, the church staff, congregations, missionaries, local missions, and also for those who submitted prayer requests. My first week, I was stunned at how open people were with their problems. The things people wrote were honest, painful truths that we often shy away from. Four years later, this has not changed.
This past Sunday was a first - I was the only person who came to pray (2 others were scheduled to join me). It was not odd to me. After a few minutes, I dug right in. I even spoke aloud a few times. There on the familiar table was a stack of requests from the last month - most asking for prayers for ill family members, bruised marriages, employment. Some were very specific, including one for a young man who was considering a sex change operation.
That last one got me to thinking - if he went through with it, would he be welcome at our church? Would security try (politely) to escort him away? Our services are filled with folks of all ages in all manner of dress; some are homeless. But I still wonder. I grew up in a church where those who didn't look or smell right were asked to leave; don't want to offend the big tithers! It was always convicting (and remains so) when someone who is loud, inappropriate, or unkempt shows up. We espouse agape love yet still put unspoken conditions upon it.
As I prayed I was also convicted of my attitudes toward other Christians who I feel are close minded and bigoted. Nothing like staring into the face of your own prejudices while calling out others on theirs. It was a good thing for me to pray solo this past week. I was amazed I was able to do this for nearly an hour without much pause. At times, I did not use words. I aspire to the model of prayer in Daniel Chapter 9. So should any believer.
I am a far from perfect Christian, and I feel more and more isolated from others who share my faith as I get older (and hopefully wiser) for reasons I've covered here before. I'm having trouble relating to most of them, usually in our incompatibility of political and social views. Plus, sometimes hard, deductive, evidence-based thinking seems incompatible with faith, and many Christians are unwilling to go beyond a bumper sticker slogan like "The Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it." in their paradigms.
I cringe at the behavior of many Christians; it leaves little doubt as to why faith is so often ridiculed. If "we're the only Jesus" others see, there's little hope. I am reminded of that line in the Godley & Creme song, "Punch Bag":
To Jesus I pray
For strength to survive
Your Christian soldiers
Ouch.
But what did I say about judging? I am just as guilty.
Back to the dressing room: to sit and "hear" the still small voice was some of the most powerful worship I've experienced lately. And it was a solitary action. Prayer is as necessary as breathing for me. I look forward to others praying with me, for more intercession, the next time.
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.
-Romans 8:26
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