i'm Distracted by me

It has somehow become trendy to do away with the capital “I” for the first person pronoun in praise and worship songs, especially if the lyrics are projected on a screen. The goal, I suppose, is to reflect (or promote) personal humility. Apparently if we use a lowercase “i” we will be (or appear to be) more humble. But for me this practice produces the opposite effect. When projected song lyrics use a lowercase “i” my attention is actually drawn to the pronoun rather than turned away from it. It distracts me, and the thing that attracts my thoughts is the very thing the lowercase “i” is supposed to be deflecting!

ironic.

Look, nobody sees a capital “I” and thinks, “How self-centered! That person sure must think highly about himself to be capitalizing the first person singular pronoun!” No, the capitalization of “I” is simply a convention of the English language. To put things in perspective, the German language actually capitalizes all nouns in a sentence, but Germans aren’t thereby saying every person, place, thing, or idea deserves to be worshipped or honored.

I struggle to understand the motive behind using a lowercase “i,” wondering if it may, in fact, actually promote a prideful humility—“Look at how humble i am!” or “You people who use a capital ‘I’ sure are egocentric (unlike us, who use a lowercase ‘i’)!” On the other hand, a desire to be less self-absorbed and me-focused is a noble and needed corrective in contemporary worship. But songwriters and worship leaders who want to pursue this goal can do so in far more effective ways. Let me suggest two.

First, we could use less I and me and more Him and He. How about more song lyrics that just don’t mention “I” or “me” all that often? Instead, let’s tell the story about the Triune God, singing praises to the Father, confessing faith in Jesus Christ, and proclaiming the work of the Spirit. Keeping the focus on Him in our lyrics will remove the necessity to constantly sing about how I feel about God, what I gain from salvation, how I can personally benefit from my relationship with God. Songs that obsess with a lowercase “i” could avoid the problem by ejecting the pronoun entirely.

Second, we could use less I and Me and more us and we. Far too many of our contemporary worship songs are individualistic, emphasizing personal faith, personal problems, personal salvation, personal growth, personal eschatology. How difficult would it be to change some of the lyrics of these songs to a plural pronoun? Often the lyrics of worship songs communicate to the worshippers that they are simply a large mob of individuals engaged in private, personal communion with God. Let’s leave individual worship at home in our prayer closets and come to church to worship in community.

I must clarify, though, that nothing in the Bible suggests that using “I” and “we” in corporate worship is wrong. Many psalms are written in the first person singular. Many of our great hymns and worship choruses have endured as individual poems of devotion. The Christian faith clearly involves both individual and corporate aspects of prayer, study, and worship. To emphasize one over the other would create an unbiblical and unhealthy imbalance. But in a culture like ours, driven by thoroughgoing metheism, it might not hurt to rethink how and what we sing.

Stop Being Teachable!

I have long believed that being teachable is a commendable Christian virtue . . . reflecting, humility, grace, and openness to the maturing work of the Holy Spirit. In fact, I have often published articles encouraging my readers to remain teachable, to continue to learn and grow in their faith, to submit to the guidance of gifted teachers. But after contemplating for several seconds recently, I realized that I was completely wrong. In fact, teachability is no Christian virtue, but rather the antithesis of what it means to be truly Christ-like. I demonstrate how I came to this conclusion through the following logical argument.

1. God is omniscient.
2. Since God is omniscient, He can not learn anything that He does not already know.
3. Since God can not learn, He can not be taught.
4. Since God can not be taught, He is unteachable.
5. Christ is fully God.
6. Therefore, in His deity Christ shares all of the perfect attributes of God.
7. Therefore, Since God is unteachable, Christ is unteachable.
8. Christians are to be like Christ.
9. Since Christ is unteachable, and Christians are to be like Christ, Christians should be unteachable.
10. I am a Christian.
11. Therefore, I should be unteachable.

P.S. Please do not try to change my mind about this. I won’t listen.

The Problem with Prayer

For many, there appears to be a problem with prayer. How many times have you heard (or thought) some of these responses to prayer?

· “It’s a one-way conversation.”

· “It doesn’t seem to work.”

· “God takes too long to answer.”

· “God does what He wants anyway.”

Crushed between the mortar and pestle of life, it’s easy to think there’s a serious problem with prayer: God. When God doesn’t answer according to our will, we can get frustrated. We can feel like our prayers are just floating around the universe like a comet adrift, too insignificant to catch the Creator’s attention. In the midst of this disappointment, we’re often too slow to accept that the problem with prayer is not God, but us.

I used to think that life would be a lot easier if God answered a few more strategic prayers—just a couple key petitions to remind us that He’s listening. I was convinced that a profound healing here and there would add spice to the life of the church.

Then God healed Karen.

Our Sunday school class gathered for desperate prayer the night before the surgery scheduled to remove a tumor from Karen’s brain. The surgery would probably render her unable to speak for a long time. Leading the prayer, I asked God to comfort her husband, daughter, and family at this time of crisis, to help the surgeons, to speed her recovery, and—if He willed—to miraculously heal her.

Of course, that last part was just to satisfy the expectations of the group. Although I believed God could instantly heal Karen, I was certain He would use less glorious means. As we drove home, I even told my wife, “Karen will probably never be the same again.”

The next morning the tumor had disappeared.

I assumed Karen’s response would be just as profound as God’s answer to prayer. After all, when a person experiences the awesome intervention of the Almighty God, we should expect an explosive revival, right?

Less than a year later, Karen left the church and divorced her husband.

I had always thought answers to prayer would strengthen faith and ignite thanksgiving. Disappointed in Karen’s life choices in light of her healing, I was reminded that even the Israelites grumbled and rebelled in the midst of powerful answers to their requests (Numbers 11:1-4).

You see, the problem with prayer is not God, but us.

There’s also a problem of abusing prayer. When I was a new Christian, I mistakenly followed the “prosperity gospel,” the “name it-claim it” theology that overwhelms Christian television and bookstores. “Don’t make negative confessions,” I was told. “If you’re sick, confess that you’re healed!”

On one occasion I mentioned to a self-proclaimed “prophetess” that I was going bald. Instantly, she placed her hand on my head and shouted, “No you’re not—in the name of Jesus!” That “prophetess” treated prayer like a gift card she could whip out at any time to make major purchases.

We may not be as extreme as that woman, but we can all fall into the trap of abusing prayer. While we may tack on a halfhearted “Thy will be done,” deep down we think, “No! My will be done!” Yes, Christ said, “Ask, and it will be given to you” (Matthew 7:7), but his brother James reminds us, “You ask and do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives” (James 4:3).

Once again, the problem with prayer is not God, but us.

How do we correct the problem with prayer? After a dozen years in Bible college, seminary, and Ph.D. studies, I’d hoped to finally have a handle on prayer. I don’t. In fact, the more I pray, the less I understand its profound mysteries. However, I’ve come to several conclusions that might help correct our perceived problems with prayer.

First, we need to understand that the purpose of prayer is not for God to please us, but for God to change us. If a father constantly gives in to a little child’s whiny demands, we’d take him for a lousy parent. Why, then, do some think God’s a stubborn God when He doesn’t give us everything we want? We need to trust that God is wise and powerful enough to answer rightly—and right on time. First John 5:14 says, “This is the confidence which we have before Him, that, if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us.” That is, God won’t jump at every loose-lipped confession. Prayer offered up in true faith submits to His will—our sanctification (1 Thessalonians 4:3). God’s will is to change us, not please us.

Second, we need to accept that the power of prayer is perceived in even the smallest response. I’m convinced that humans don’t fully comprehend how little we deserve God’s love and grace. Consider that what we regard as “crumbs” of answered prayer may really be bountiful feasts once we realize that God owes us nothing (Genesis 32:9-10; Luke 7:6-9). When we adjust our attitude about our own unworthiness to receive God’s favor, we’ll never regard “small” answers to prayer as insignificant.

Finally, we need to acknowledge that the process of prayer is not as important as the attitude of prayer. When God chose in His sovereignty to heal Karen, He did so even though none of us expected it. Our feeble prayer was a simple act of faith—turning our worries over to God’s care (Philippians 4:6; 1 Peter 5:6-7). Christians can get hung up on method, worried that they haven’t said the right words, haven’t prayed hard or often enough, or haven’t believed deeply enough. That’s hocus-pocus, not prayer (Matthew 6:5-8). If you’re concerned about not praying with the right words or for the right things, memorize Romans 8:26—God’s Spirit even helped Paul pray!

Of course these reminders are easy to read, but they’re not easy to live. To our finite human minds, we’ll always perceive “problems” with prayer. Are you struggling with your prayer life, not seeing results, wondering if God is listening? It might be time for an attitude change. It might be time to finally accept that the problem with prayer is not God, but us.

[This essay is adapted from my article, “The Problem with Prayer,” Insights (October 2005): 1–2, (c) 2005, Insight for Living, and used with permission.]