Words'nTone

My wife, kids, and I are helping an effort to plant a church in our neighborhood, one that is within walking distance from one of our city’s Housing Authority’s apartment complexes. (I hate the words “the projects.”) This Sunday our pastor had invited a local men’s restoration program called Pivot Ministries to come sing and share testimonies. They brought in their choir. The men shared how they had entered the program with lives filled with hurt, destruction, and many on the verge of suicide. Drugs, alcohol, and life on the streets had taken its human toll. They explained how their lives had also ruined family and friends, and especially their children. Some shared how they had tried everything—12 step groups, counseling, and other rehab-programs. But it was the Pivot Ministries’ center emphasis on having a right relationship with God through Christ that made the difference. About a dozen of the men shared their testimonies about how they had found both forgiveness and the strength to change what only God can change--themselves. Almost all cried or were at a loss of words over their emotions to explain how God had helped them. Strong, street-wise men broken down to crying, shedding tears at how God had helped them conquer what had held them captive for so long. One gentleman, barely stammering out his words, eyes weld up with tears, barely able to say, “If you want to see hope…” No words followed, just enough to point his fingers at himself.

Last week at Sunday morning worship, we prayed for and reviewed the persecuted church throughout the world. We reviewed the countries which cause the most persecution of Christians and then we concentrated on two countries on the top ten list: North Korea topped the list (“There is no other country in the world where Christians are being persecuted in such a horrible and relentless way”). When I lived in South Korea back in ’79-’80, I had heard the stories first hand how the church in the Korean peninsula had suffered. Now South Korea is home to five of the largest church congregations in the world. We learned of Eritrea, where persecution of Christians is daily. Have you even heard of Eritrea? I certainly haven’t. It is a small a country in the Horn of Africa. These are the two countries we paused to pray for. Also on the list was the Maldives, an island country in the Indian Ocean, sometimes known as the paradise islands, and is a pure Islamic State.

As we were praying for the Christians and Pastors in North Korea and Eritrea, my heart became heavy, saddened, and wandered to a current movie that just hit the theaters: The Box. This movie is about a small wooden box that shows up on the doorstep of a married couple where they have been instructed that if they open the box, they’d receive $1,000,000. The catch: they have to kill someone they don’t know. Open the box for the million bucks and someone has to die.

Now why in the world did that weird movie come to mind? The connection most likely started when I saw the Maldives on the list of the top ten countries where the church is most persecuted. Back in the mid-1990s my daughter’s mother, Peggy and I were at Teen Mission Boot Camp on Merritt Island, FL as guests, speaking about Prairie Bible Institute to potential future students. One session we were asked to do was on a people-group. We chose the Maldives since Peggy had done some research and even wrote a play about the Islamic State. There is no known church in the Maldives. Christians are in the handful, if that. Mission sending agencies cannot send “missionaries” per se. So they are creative (e.g., wind surfing instructors for the resorts, IT people for the hotels, etc.). But at one point I said to the small band of listening teens sitting on logs and rocks and on the ground, “To really see the church start and grow in the Maldives, where its illegal to be a Christian and Christians are killed out right, what do you think has to happen?” One of the teens said without hesitation, “Someone has to die.”

Wow, right on the mark. I thought I was going to be cleaver; but they got it right away. A Maldivian convert to Christianity most likely would have to die, have to suffer and be killed in order for others to come to Christ. I referred to the early church father saying, “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.” The teens understood. Do we?

This is where my mind went. We were asked to pray and I felt it was like that Box had shown up on my doorstep. Open it (that is pray) and someone has to die. We were asked to pray for the Christians and pastors facing persecution in North Korea and in Eritrea, and I couldn’t help but think my prayer—with all things being equal and typical in God’s economy and way in the world—would actually mean someone would have to die. Then I thought, how safe we are here in this nice church building, in our nice clothes, singing beautiful worship songs to the various instruments in the worship band, and praying for those whose lives are at stake every second. And, I thought, my prayer might actually be answered and that could very well mean some North Korean or Eritrean Christian could die.

No wonder my heart was heavy. I am at ease. They are suffering. And here I was, in essence, actually praying for their death for the sake of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

After Church my daughter wanted to know why we fast—a subject that came up repeatedly during the service. Actually she wanted to know why people keep telling us they are fasting. I thought it was a good question, primarily (and I said to her) once you tell people you’re fasting, it does not count. Jesus was clear in his Sermon on the Mount I pointed out, “Beware of practicing your righteousness before men to be noticed by them; otherwise you have no reward with your Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 6:1). And regarding fasting itself He warned,

“Whenever you fast, do not put on a gloomy face as the hypocrites do, for they neglect their appearance so that they will be noticed by men when they are fasting Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full. But you, when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face so that your fasting will not be noticed by men, but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you” (6:16-18).

We continued to discuss the matter. I told her that if you tell people you are fasting—even if you couch it within pious terms and prayer requests—there were no exceptions to Jesus’ warning—that’s your reward. The reward is other people knowing and thinking you’re spiritual. If you’re fasting—I don’t want to know about it. If I know, then me knowing is your reward and there is no Christian or spiritual value to your fasting.

But she asked about the 30-hour famine all the teens did just recently. I said that’s different. There are fasts of protest, fasts for making people aware of the needs of others and the wrongs done by others. You know, I will fast until the banks stop red-lining poor people, or I will fast 30 hours to make the world aware of the issue of hunger. These types of fasts are for protest and not for one’s personal, spiritual relationship with God who sees in secret.

There was more to the discussion—like what happens when you have to be around people who are eating. It doesn’t matter—you tell them you are fasting and them knowing is your reward.

It is pretty simple, if you tell me you are fasting, it doesn’t count.

    To do righteousness and justice
       Is desired by the LORD more than sacrifice.
    Haughty eyes and a proud heart,
       The lamp of the wicked, is sin.
    The plans of the diligent lead surely to advantage,
       But everyone who is hasty comes surely to poverty.
    The acquisition of treasures by a lying tongue
       Is a fleeting vapor, the pursuit of death.
    The violence of the wicked will drag them away,
       Because they refuse to act with justice.
    The way of a guilty man is crooked,
       But as for the pure, his conduct is upright.

    He who shuts his ear to the cry of the poor
       Will also cry himself and not be answered.
            ~Proverbs 21:3-8, 13

Now that I have been made aware, once again, that God does not hear the prayers of the sinner (recall postings on Isaiah 59 and Micah 3) I am now more aware of similar warnings in the Bible as I do my reading or study.  In a recent post on the “Cries of the poor” I obviously noticed verse 13:

    He who shuts his ear to the cry of the poor
       Will also cry himself and not be answered.

This being very powerful and straight forward.  Why is it in almost now thirty years of hearing sermons, Christian speakers at Church, and even messages at Christian conventions, retreats, and “deeper life” services, I have never heard once that my prayers could go unheard if I do not “hear the cries of the poor”?  Or that God will turn a deaf ear to my own cries (i.e., prayers) if I even shut out their cries?  Implied in this verse (which I gave a little context, which indicators the cries are related to justice and doing righteously by the poor) is that the one who actively finds ways to disregard the cries of the poor, is in danger of God not paying attention to his or hers.  This is a little scary.  Oh, yes, scary alone that God would not hear our own prayers, but still worse that our lives might intentionally be ignoring the poor by neglect, with purposeful intention, a political view, a bias, a prejudice, a belief that “I have my rights, too, you know,” or through living and seeking the comforts of our upward mobile socioeconomic lifestyles.  I might, after my research on Mark 12 and the public advocacy for the poor, would include things like the desire for personal status and the fight to suburbia (away from the City) as means that “shut” our ears to the cries of the poor.

So, in the midst of such platitudes about prayers and why God will not listen to us, let’s hear a little more about why and more specifically what the Bible actually teaches us regarding our prayer (especially our corporate ones), the church and its relationship to the poor, and our own attitudes and actions toward and for the poor.

      Then they will cry out to the LORD,
           But He will not answer them
           Instead, He will hide His face from them at that time
           Because they have practiced evil deeds (Micah 3:4).

I stand corrected.  Well, sort of corrected.  I was somewhat correct when I stated that Isaiah 59 is the “only” place God indicates to His people that He can not hear their prayers.  I was quickly placed on notice that Micah 3 is also “another” place where God tells His people that He will not answer their cries (v 4).  Now notice I only admit to a partial incorrectness on my part.  You see—or that is you can read—Micah 3 is a parallel text to Isaiah 59, and the passage might very well be that Micah is preaching from the Isaiah 59 context.  In other words, the background and/or text that forms the preaching (really singing) of Micah 3 is most likely the Isaiah 59 context.  A quick reading of the Micah 3 text will yield many parallels to the Isaiah 59 passage, and in particular that the “sins” that are keeping God from hearing Israel’s prayers are those related to justice (cf. v 1).  There is any obvious social problem in that the leaders of Israel are marginalizing certain members of society (cf. vv 2-3). 

Although, of course the wealthy can be treated unjustly, the wider context still affirms that it is the marginalized poor and outcasts that are the targets of the injustice that gets in the way of God’s hearing.

      “In that day,” declares the LORD,
            “I will assemble the lame
           And gather the outcasts,
           Even those whom I have afflicted.
      “I will make the lame a remnant
           And the outcasts a strong nation,
           And the LORD will reign over them in Mount Zion
           From now on and forever” (Micah 4:6-7).

Eventually, in Micah, we get to the familiar verses that urge God’s people to walk humbly with God (6:8).  But we must throw them back into the context of Micah’s preaching.  As in the Isaiah 59 text, Micah is speaking to people who are carrying out the orderly (weekly, monthly) worship.  Although outwardly they look pious and cry out to God, it is their social life—their socioeconomic life—that is askew, crooked, unjust.

Funny thing is that there is a tendency among evangelicals to “personalize” Micah 6:8, moving from the obvious community referent that demands repentance of the whole community regarding their aversion to justice, and in particular the justice in caring and providing for the poor.  Again, even noting the surrounding verses, we see it is the worshipping community that is spoken of, not the individual (although of course the individual is implied as well).

      With what shall I come to the LORD
           And bow myself before the God on high?
           Shall I come to Him with burnt offerings,
           With yearling calves?
      Does the LORD take delight in thousands of rams,
           In ten thousand rivers of oil?
           Shall I present my firstborn for my rebellious acts,
           The fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?
      He has told you, O man, what is good;
           And what does the LORD require of you
           But to do justice, to love kindness,
           And to walk humbly with your God? (6:6-8).

It is the worshipping community “in worship” that God does not hear as a result of their sins and iniquities, namely turning a deaf ear toward justice.  It is while the community of God (feel free to read local congregation) is at worship, offering up worship songs and praise and then their corporate prayers that God does not hear their prayers, their cries.  This offers a radically different view (a more biblically and contextually accurate view) of the Micah 3 text, as well as Isaiah 59.  Privatizing these texts—telling the individual Christian that their prayers are not heard because of sin in their life—allows the congregation and its leadership (who are the actually ones being charged with this guilt, by the way, in both Isaiah 59 and Micah 3) to walk free of guilt.  Applying these texts to individuals and their so-called private sins allows the leadership to escape culpability in their own injustice, whether by overt action or neglect.  Both the Isaiah 59 text and this Micah 3 text call the congregation to be mindful of their own attitudes and actions toward justice, and in particular actions that continue to marginalize the poor.

See my comments on the Isaiah 59 text, “Confessing sins, looking all pious, feeling forgiven, but still separated from God.”

A number of years ago—too many to count—when I was a college student, I told Eric Marx, my good friend, “I’ll pray for you every day until I die or I hear you have gone on to be with the Lord.” Although, I wasn’t looking for it, he replied, “I’ll do the same for you.” Accept for a few days here and there (I am sure), I have been praying for Eric Marx everyday since 1982.  Shortly afterward, Donice, another good friend, had heard of my prayer-pack with Eric and asked for the same.  I have been praying for her as well, everyday, for 25 years.  Thus began my first “Top Ten Prayer List.” I added the remaining eight very shortly…my family, other friends, co-workers, and of course missionaries.  The list has expanded from time to time; some remain as part of a covenant of prayer I have made like with Eric and Donice.

My top ten prayer list idea—years ago now—was shortly affirmed as both a good idea and a blessing.  During a Crown College (it used to be St. Paul Bible College) chapel, a Bank President’s wife shared her testimony about a crisis that had occurred in her life and how God had protected her from harm.  She had been kidnapped—obviously because she was the wife of a Bank President.  She had been locked in a car trunk for—now I strain my old brain cells—for a few days.  I don’t remember all the details, but I do remember what she thought about:

Locked in that trunk, for hours, not knowing when I’d get out or of my fate once it was opened, I thought about the friends whom I knew had prayed for me that day.

She told of that thought itself had brought her comfort and the strength to know God had His plan.

This is why we prayer, not because it is Christian law, but out of the overflowing grace that we are even allowed to approach the thrown of grace and offer anything before a holy and righteous God.  Prayer and prayers ought to be from grace, not law.

Tuesday Morning Ladies Bible Study in Rome, NY—thank you for praying for me each week.  All my family who knew me as “Chippy” and prayed for me everyday when I was a child—those prayers guarded me more than you or I will ever know.  To grandma Brodock, now in heaven for many years, Jesus, let her know her daily prayers of salvation for Judy (my mom) and “Chippy” have been answered.  Aunt Tudy, your prayers are much appreciated, still.  Mom—for being my advocate before the father.  Eric—I wonder what battles I would have lost if you hadn’t been praying for me each day.

It’s been a long time, but I heard a reference that sparked the memories of my more fundamentalist and very privatized personal piety days:

“God can’t hear your prayers if your not right with him; if there is sin in your life, God can’t hear your prayers.”

Wow.  I actually couldn’t believe my ears.  It was like déjà vu all over again.  Some would say I grew cold toward the Lord if I don’t believe that anymore.  I say I matured out of such silliness.  (Oh, I can hear the judging now.) Anyway, it just sort of freaked me out.  I was actually speechless, not knowing what to say.  (They wouldn’t have listened anyway.) The words leaped out of this rather nice, well-meaning Christian’s lips as a matter of fact—this is just the way it is—words that couldn’t be argued with—even with Scripture.  Don’t even try.  It’s simple spiritual logic.  Sin is evil and separates you from God.  God doesn’t hear sinners, even Christian sinners.  Therefore, since sin makes you a sinner, God can’t hear you. Well, I did offer one foolish thought, asking, “Then you have to be perfect to have God hear your prayers?” Stupid, I know.  I was quickly met with, “Perfect before the Lord.” I didn’t bother to explain that was semantics and sinless means perfect.  I refrained from throwing out Scripture (pearl before you know what), but I did think of I John:

“If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar and His word is not in us” (1 John 1:8-10).

I hate making God out to be a liar.  Frankly, the miracle of it all is that I have faith in Christ’s atoning death and have been born again (yes, that means receiving and asking Jesus into my life) and that’s pretty much as perfect as I am ever going to get before God on earth.  Somehow, despite my imperfection (didn’t Paul even say something about not being perfect yet?) God enjoys developing a relationship with me.  Man, I am glad I don’t live under law!

Okay.  Enough of my sarcasm, now a look at the one—yes only one—text that actually says anything close to the idea that God doesn’t hear the prayer of sinners.  I quoted this verse, too, when I was a young and immature Christian.  I know full well it’s there in the arsenal of the fighting fundy.  I was one.  Here’s the verse, lifted from its context, just plain and simple:

    Isaiah 59
    (1)Behold, the LORD’S hand is not so short
             That it cannot save;
             Nor is His ear so dull
             That it cannot hear.
    (2)But your iniquities have made a separation
         between you and your God,
             And your sins have hidden His face from you
                  so that He does not hear.

Seems straight forward:

“your (read my) iniquities (read unconfessed sins) have made a separation between you (again read me) and your (my) God, and your sins (read, my individual unconfessed sins) have hidden His face from you (yes, again read me) so that He does not hear (me).”

I used to believe that—for sure.  I used to read this text this way.  In fact Isaiah 59:1-2 was a memory verse—I gather to keep me on the straight and narrow.  But I did mature—and hopefully sin less, but certainly I am not sinless even at my most spiritual.  In fact its hard for me to find that such a concept and proof text is anything more than law and nothing the resembles grace.  Plus it doesn’t take into consideration spiritual growth (but that’s for another post).  And then I looked at the actually text of Isaiah 59 and, now, I see something I didn’t see before when I read verses of the Bible that I thought were always to be taken personally and applied to my privatized, singular life.  Boy, was I wrong.

Let me start there: the problem with the concept that only a perfect person’s prayers are heard is merely a form of privatized Christian faith that is really no faith at all.  As Harry Blamires in his Highway to Heaven points that, a concentration on my individual sins allows me to concentrate, still, on the one thing that is most important to me: me! But the context of Isaiah 59 moves us away from me and sets up a broader, more corporate identifying feature to consider.  Let’s just start with the verses following verse 2.  Listen.  Read it out loud.

    (3)For your hands are defiled with blood
             And your fingers with iniquity;
             Your lips have spoken falsehood,
             Your tongue mutters wickedness.
    (4)No one sues righteously and no one pleads honestly
             They trust in confusion and speak lies;
             They conceive mischief and bring forth iniquity.
    (5)They hatch adders’ eggs and weave the spider’s web;
             He who eats of their eggs dies,
             And from that which is crushed a snake breaks forth.
    (6)Their webs will not become clothing,
             Nor will they cover themselves with their works;
             Their works are works of iniquity,
             And an act of violence is in their hands.
    (7)Their feet run to evil,
             And they hasten to shed innocent blood;
             Their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity,
             Devastation and destruction are in their highways.
    (8)They do not know the way of peace,
             And there is no justice in their tracks;
             They have made their paths crooked,
             Whoever treads on them does not know peace.

My first observation is that the “you” and “your” are plural and refer, most likely, to the nation of Israel, or at least the people of Judah, and more unlikely the individual Israelite.  This text applies to the corporate body called the people of Israel, the outward worshiping community of faith.  Verses 1 and 2 should not be read as individualistically, that is verses that apply to you and me as individuals, but to a group, first to Israel who had wandered away from God, and second to any group that has the characteristics (i.e., the iniquities) described here in the context.

American Christianity seems to make us read “iniquities” and the “sin” that separates from God individualistically, privatizing our sin—narrowing it down to the smallness of ourselves, my sin, your sin.  But Isaiah defines the sin here that makes for that separation which causes God not to hear the corporate prayers—probably the prayers in the context of worship—of Israel.  Let me re-read the first two verses for you—with my (Isaiah’s really) emphasis:

Behold, the LORD’S hand is not so short; that it cannot save [Isreal]; nor is His ear so dull that it cannot hear [Israel’s prayers during worship].  But your iniquities [i.e., your national sins] have made a separation between you [that is, your nation] and your [nation’s] God, and your [that is, your people’s] sins have hidden His face from you so that He does not hear [you all during worship].

Now that’s more like it.  More like the context.  Reads a little differently and opens us up to a wider range of possible applications.  So, what sins, what iniquities…anything in particular?  Read on…

    (9)Therefore justice is far from us,
             And righteousness does not overtake us;
             We hope for light, but behold, darkness,
             For brightness, but we walk in gloom.

We read further their corporate confession:

    (12)For our transgressions are multiplied before You,
             And our sins testify against us;
             For our transgressions are with us,
             And we know our iniquities:
    (13)Transgressing and denying the LORD,
             And turning away from our God,
             Speaking oppression and revolt,
             Conceiving in and uttering from the heart lying words.
    (14)Justice is turned back,
             And righteousness stands far away;
             For truth has stumbled in the street,
             And uprightness cannot enter.
    (15)Yes, truth is lacking;
             And he who turns aside from evil makes himself a prey
             Now the LORD saw,
             And it was displeasing in His sight that there was no justice.

What is interesting is that we can take verses 1 and 2 individualistically, confess our personal and hidden sin and still be in the condition described here by Isaiah—and that means still separated from God.  We can go ahead, feel better about God and ourselves, and even be called upon to share a break-through testimony, but then we would be in no better position before God than before when we confessed our “individual” sin.  Just makes us look good and keeps the attention on me, me, me. 

While I agree that we need to confess…which, by the way, is never before adoration and worship and acknowledgement of Whom we have approached…what is it that we are to confess in order for God to hear our corporate prayers in worship?  The sins, here in Isaiah, that separate from God, where the community of believers (so-called) are no longer in a place to have God hear their prayers, are related to justice.  (And justice in the prophets is almost always about how the community treats the poor—can’t escape it.) We know from the liturgical nature of the text, plus its corporate setting, it is the community’s corporate prayers during worship that are not heard.  Even earlier Isaiah chides the worshiping community about their fasting and celebrating of feasts, but yet don’t care for justice—that is, caring for the poor.

     “Is this not the fast which I choose,
             To loosen the bonds of wickedness,
             To undo the bands of the yoke,
             And to let the oppressed go free
             And break every yoke?
     “Is it not to divide your bread with the hungry
             And bring the homeless poor into the house;
             When you see the naked, to cover him;
             And not to hide yourself from your own flesh?”
                    (Isaiah 58:6-7)

While personal piety is important—don’t get me wrong, I believe it is—however proof-texting Isaiah and other similar verses to stress such a view misses the point and leaves us in our sins no matter how much personal sins we confess.  If we approach Scripture or God this way, while we might look good on the outside (joyously feeling forgiven and all pious and thinking we’re all that), we have yet to actually deal with the sin that separates us from God as a community and with what keeps Him from hearing our prayers, as a community of worshippers.  We are then no better than the Israel Isaiah first preached to.  We might like to think ourselves “perfect” and “sinless” and heard by God, but we only fool ourselves and our reward is just looking spiritual, not being spiritual truly in God’s sight—or should that be in God’s hearing?

One would think that Jesus actually meant it when He said we should pray, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” As followers of Jesus, we are to be praying for what is real in heaven where God reigns to be realized on earth now.  Given the rest of Jesus’ teaching, I might not know everything that is real in heave, but I know God’s sovereign reign and expression of His kingdom is real in heaven.  Jesus’ prayer to His heavenly Father was a summary, not just of person and private prayer, but of His eschatology.  He expected His followers to be disciples of realized eschatology; obedience to Christ is to mean that discipleship intentionally does on earth what is in heaven, namely allowing, pleading, and realizing God’s sovereign reign right here on earth, in our lives, in our public sphere.  The portrait of the future, that is, the eschatological reality placed before the believer in the text of scripture, demands a discipleship that seeks to bring that future into the imagination and obedience of the follower of Christ.  If anything, prayer opens up our imagination to see God’s rule and reign.  And then, plead for it in the life of those around us.  For a while now, along with grant writing and other personal writing projects, I am researching and exploring the relationship between eschatology and its impact on Christian obedience as it relates to justice and activities that serve, assist, and provide for the economical and disenfranchised vulnerable populations that surround the church.  Frankly when we pray, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” we are praying for God’s rule in heaven to be experienced here on earth.  If our prayers focus on our private lives, whether it be a self-introspective of our sins and weaknesses or our one-on-one, special relationship with God, we’ll not be obedient disciples who realize the prayer Jesus taught us to pray.

“The king’s heart is like channels of water in the hand of the LORD; He turns it wherever He wishes (Proverbs 21:1).

“Whatever you ask in My name, that will I do, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son” (John 14:13).

“If you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.” (John 15:7).

“You did not choose Me but I chose you, and appointed you that you would go and bear fruit, and that your fruit would remain, so that whatever you ask of the Father in My name He may give to you” (John 15:16).

I joined a Christian Yahoo discussion group not too long ago.  Over the past week a long and rather heated thread on God’s sovereignty and foreknowledge, Calvinism and man’s free will has ensued as the chief topic.  I only joined in the discussion because someone said that the Calvinist’s God is an insecure God and is afraid that His will would not be accomplished.  I thought this was a curious argument or premise.  I entered the fray only at a minimum to address the fallacy in that logic.  But, to no avail.  I am not equipped to define Calvinism (I suspect that long standing theological framework will outlast us and this Yahoo Group discussion).  It was thrown out that if God predestines at all why does He have us pray?  I do not have a sift answer, nor a new theological twist to explain God’s sovereignty and man’s (apparent) free will.  I am not that cleaver, nor theological astute.  But one cannot escape that we have verses in the Scripture, especially on prayer, that demands that we place confidence in an all-powerful, self-willed, sovereign God who is not subject to the will of men.  Like the verse from Proverbs that gives me confidence that even our rulers are in God’s hands to turn whichever He chooses, prayer promises me a God who is capable of delivering answers and can make good on promises.  I found it an ironic thing that John 15:16 linked being chosen by God, appointed by God, and the promise of “whatever you ask.” I understand Christian’s reluctance in accepting the Calvinistic theological framework, but attacking Calvinism or those who find Scripture supports a God who is all-knowing and all-sovereign with a straw-god (one who is insecure and afraid) seemed to me a bit much.  From Genesis to Revelation, I am commanded to pray and have confidence that God is able to answer based on His character.  If one thinks God is limited by human will and cannot or will not bend it, or is limited in His knowledge (foreknowledge), that God is too small and undermines the confidence we are to have in the God of Scripture.