Tag: return

Raising Lazarus

Raising Lazarus

Adapted from a sermon by Fr Elijah Iskander

There are so many characters with varied roles in the story of the raising of Lazarus that we can learn from.

Two of the characters we meet are Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus. Martha runs to the Lord and says, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21). She had some understanding of who Christ was, but she didn’t have a complete understanding. She knew Jesus was powerful and had authority over death but she also had a misunderstanding that His power was limited by distance. IF You were here, perhaps she didn’t know the number of miracles He did when He healed from a distance. The centurion’s daughter for example.

When Jesus tells her that he will rise, she responds with theological insight when she says, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day” (John 11:24). Jesus clarifies that He meant beyond this.

Her sister, Mary, comes to the Lord with the exact same sentence, word for word. Jesus doesn’t seem to engage with Mary theologically as He did with Martha but simply completes the miracles.

Regardless of if I am Mary, coming to the Lord broken-hearted with no understanding or if I come to Him with questions, concerns and debates, He still comforts me in the language I understand best and is for my benefit.

Another character that is easily missed in this story is Thomas. The one known as, “doubting Thomas,” has a powerful role in this story. When Jesus informs the disciples that Lazarus had died and they must go to him, Thomas replies, “Let us also go, that we may die with Him” (John 11:16).

Earlier in the Gospel, Jesus makes a bold claim of divinity, saying that He is the Son of God. The Jews hearing this want to kill Him for making Himself equal to God. And now the disciples see that Lazarus has died, that the Jews are surrounded in the area after they had just escaped from them. It would natural for the disciples to think that if they went to the Jews, they would kill Jesus. Thomas concludes the same but sees this is an opportunity to follow the Lord even unto death.

Are we like Thomas, ready to follow the Lord regardless of the cost and consequences? For Thomas, this became an accidental prophecy of his own martyrdom. Doubting Thomas, in this instance, proved to be brave and courageous. What can we learn from Thomas’ example today? Even if I must sacrifice for you, Lord, I am ready. Let us also go that we may die with Him. Let us aspire to have the courage of Thomas.

The compassions of our Lord are magnified in the shortest verse of the Bible which reads, “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). When He saw His beloved weeping, He also wept. How can we perceive the depth of this verse? He groaned in the Spirit and was troubled. The Comforter, the Counsellor, weeps and is troubled. This gives us an insight into the compassion of the Lord and how much He loves us. We call Him, “Abba, Father” which is to say, “Dad.” This is a real mystery, a compassionate father or mother carry the burden of their children’s needs, even if it is nonsense, even if it is not a big deal. Jesus does not take humour in our requests but He shares with us every feeling that distresses us.

Can I bear the burdens of others? Can I share in the joy and sorrow of others? The Creator wept, groaned and was troubled.

We see a final group that responds saying, “Could not this Man, who opened the eyes of the blind, also have kept this man from dying?” (John 11:37). Does this not sound like those who mocked Christ on the Cross saying, “He saved others; Himself He cannot save. If He is the King of Israel, let Him now come down from the cross, and we will believe Him” (Matthew 27:42). Do I see myself in this group? Lord, if You are so powerful then why did I fail my exam, why did I endure such hardship, where were You in my struggles?

This brings about the second groaning within the Spirit of our Lord, perhaps this was not sharing in grief but in the hardness of their hearts, their utter lack of faith.

Which of these characters am I like?

  • Mary, who approaches the Lord in broken-heartedness
  • Martha, who approaches the Lord with a question and incomplete understanding
  • Thomas, who was ready to die for the sake of the Lord
  • The Jews, who questioned why Jesus would not save Lazarus from dying
  • Jesus, who we are called to like. Full of compassion and sharing the burdens of others. Groaning and weeping for those that are pained
  • Lazarus, the one raised from the dead

St Augustine describes the difference between the raising of Christ and the raising of Lazarus. When Jesus rose, the woman found the linen folded and left behind. Lazarus rose while still bound in linen. Simply because Lazarus will need those again, but Jesus will not. In whatever earthly things we receive from the Lord, we will eventually lose. If I am healed, I will be sick again. If I have a job, a time will come when I don’t have a job. Whatever earthly things we have, will be taken.

When I come to the Lord, let me ask for the imperishable. For any worldly concern, I bring forth before the Lord, He cries with me, He shares my suffering with me. Let me ask of something that is fitted for the Giver. Lord, teach me to pray.

Pope Kyrillos would wake up at 2am for his formal prayers would end at 10am and he has a constant dialogue with God. When people asked how he had such great insight, his response was simple, if you spend time speaking with God more than anyone else, He will speak to you. Lord teach me to imitate Pope Kyrillos.

For any wrongdoing, help me to let is go. Teach me to sacrifice, to love, to be humble. We pray for things worthy of the Giver.

Filling the Gaps

Filling the Gaps

by Bethany Kaldas

‘When You said, “Seek My face,”

My heart said to You, “Your face, Lord, I will seek.”’

Psalm 27:8

I know a lot of regular people who think they are terrible human beings—I’m sure you do too. You might even be one of them. It’s easy to understand why. After all, we get front row seats to our own misdeeds, every cutting remark, every envious thought or impure desire. If we look at humanity in general, we see selfishness and greed sown into almost every action, every word, and when we dare to look within, we can see the monstrous weeds those seeds grow into.

Lately, I find myself asking: Why do people do evil in the first place? If I’m being perfectly candid with you, it was my own sin that inspired such a question. I constantly find myself in the dilemma Paul captured so perfectly, of doing what he willed not to do and not doing what he willed to do, but in my own life. I follow impulses I know will end badly, boarding trains of thought destined for ruin. And I find myself asking—why? Why do I do these things?

I know, I know—we’re selfish. I’ve asked this question before and that’s the answer I most commonly receive. Humans are innately selfish, we’ve evolved to put ourselves first. But even if that’s true, I still don’t think that can fully explain sin. After all, some—perhaps most or even, all—sins are really sins against ourselves more than anyone else. Especially in modern times, we’re constantly doing things we know are bad for us. We are not only enemies to each other, but our own worst enemies too. And a lot of the time, we know that very well.

So…why? And Where does it come from?

‘Where do wars and fights come from among you? Do they not come from your desires for pleasure that war in your members? You lust and do not have. You murder and covet and cannot obtain. You fight and war. Yet you do not have because you do not ask. You ask and do not receive, because you ask amiss, that you may spend it on your pleasures.’

James 4:1-3

We have a desire that is not sated, a longing not fulfilled. This verse from James implies it is a desire for pleasure—and I do not deny that at all—but if pleasure really is the missing piece, then why are we not fulfilled by sin? Why does the glutton not stop once he has cleaned out his fridge? Why don’t the proud content themselves with the admiration of their loved one, instead of continuing to demand it of strangers? If pleasure was what we needed, then sin should be self-defeating—once we have sinned, we should sin less. So why does reality tell us the opposite?

‘You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.’

St Augustine of Hippo

I want to say that every human who ever lived has been seeking God their whole lives—every single one. Just wait—hear me out.

We were made in the image of God—in the image of Love Himself. Naturally, all those made in His image seek love. Surely that is easy enough to accept—there’s not a person out there who doesn’t need to be loved, it’s just part of what we are.

But we are fallen—we are broken. We are full of cracks and holes and we want nothing more than to fill them—but our image is distorted, deformed. We are filled with a desperate need…but we do not remember what it is for.

And so, we search.

 

‘And out of that hopeless attempt has come nearly all that we call human history—money, poverty, ambition, war, prostitution, classes, empires, slavery—the long terrible story of man trying to find something other than God which will make him happy.’

C.S. Lewis (Mere Christianity)

We seek to be filled, so we overeat, or eat the wrong things, or abuse the planet and each other in the hopes of finding something that will satiate our empty hearts.

We seek to be strong, so we demean others, or force ourselves over them, or spit on them, we hate them, we murder them with words and works.

We seek to be happy, so we act rashly for short-term gain and long-term loss, we follow our instincts and impulses, blind guides that promise a thrill but leave us empty and more broken than we began.

We seek to be loved and to love, and so we lust, we lie, we flirt and demand attention—wherever we can find it, even if we know it will end in heartbreak and even deeper loneliness.

We seek to be valuable, so we puff up, we focus on ourselves, we neglect our kin, we envy others, we sabotage them, we sabotage ourselves and then expect pity and wallow in the dread that nobody cares.

I say these of myself first and foremost, but I believe most, if not all, of us can sympathise.

If you take any sin, and you look at it hard—you dig deep down to the roots, I think you’ll find that sin is not, in fact, a desire for evil. It is hamartia—it is ‘missing the mark.’ It is a misplaced, misremembered, deformed desire for the only One Who can fulfil that desperate yearning…it is a desire for all God is, but without God Himself. It is a failure to remember that He is what we need—that He is our Beloved, that He is our satisfaction, our strength, our joy, our love and value. He is everything—He is oureverything. But we forget, we seek Him without Him—we seek after gifts, forgetting the Giver, forgetting that it was Him, and nothing else, that we actually need.

‘Man is a hungry being. But he is hungry for God. Behind all the hunger of our life is God. All desire is finally a desire for Him.’

Alexander Schmemann (For the Life of the World)

Consider even the very first sin of man. Was the great crime of Eden disobedience? Was it gluttony? Lust for power? Was it the desire to be like God?

No, it could not be—we are calledto be like God—it is the goal of a Christian life. That wasn’t the problem. The desire to be like God is only an issue when you want to do it apart from God Himself.

Alexander Schmemann goes on to describe the forbidden fruit as such in his book, For the Life of the World:

‘Not given, not blessed by God, it was food whose eating was condemned to be communion with itself alone, and not with God.’

Alexander Schmemann (For the Life of the World)

The nature of sin has not changed. The brokenness of humanity is not only the holes we now bear, but our desperation to fill them with all the wrong things. Our hearts are all fractured—if someone says otherwise, they are in the worst denial. Sin is like trying to fix a broken mirror by shoving a wooden plank into the cracks—it only makes the holes bigger, it only distorts the image further.

We all desire to be whole, but it is not possible to be whole without Him—because He is the piece of us that is missing. Perhaps, if we recognise this, we will be one step closer to actually searching for Him. And when we do, we find Him waiting, with open arms, full of all those things we need to be whole again…because it was always Him.

 

‘O Lord, You are the portion of my inheritance and my cup;

You maintain my lot. The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places;

Yes, I have a good inheritance.’

Psalm 16:5-6

Find your Moment

Find your Moment

Transcribed sermon by Fr Daniel Fanous

Passage: Luke 1:5-20

Zechariah was an interesting figure. Our Lord Christ at another point in the gospel mentions somebody by the name of Zechariah the son of Berekiah who was murdered between the horns of the altar and the temple (Matthew 23:35). This was somebody that was murdered literally as he was holding onto the altar.

Origen, one of the early church fathers said that perhaps this was Zechariah of our story today. It is theorised that when Herod went to kill all the infants under the age of two, Zechariah was unwilling to give up his son, John the Baptist and so instead, Herod had him murdered between the temple and the alter.

But what is the story of his son?

Zechariah was a priest of the Aaronic priesthood. The Aaronic priests were the descendants of Aaron. For almost a thousand years, there was a generational priesthood. No one became priest unless they were part of this specific family, there were no other ways into the priesthood.

Over this period of time, every son that was born into this family became a priest so over the course of thousands of years, there would have been thousands of priests. The worship in Israel was very different to how it is now, there weren’t multiple churches or synagogues, there was only one temple in Jerusalem and so, there wasn’t enough room for the priests to perform the sacrifices.

They divided them into 24 orders, each order would take one week a year. Then each order would take one week and of the seven days of the week, there would still be hundreds of priests allocated to a certain day. They would then cast lots to determine which priests were worthy of praying on that day. This meant that offering incense was a once in a lifetime gift. On this day, Zechariah was given his moment.

Zechariah and Elizabeth were both, “righteous before God, walking in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless” (Luke 1:6). BUT they were barren. They were unable to have children.  Their infertility had nothing to do with their sin as they was wrongly inferred by the people.

It is one of the most painful things to see someone that cannot have a child. It’s easy then to think that any kind of barrenness, whether physical emotional or spiritual, is a punishment of some kind. But here we see that it wasn’t, instead, it was part of God’s plan.

This is not to say that anyone who is barren will eventually have a child. But regardless God still has a plan. His plan may not be our plan, but He always has a plan. Any kind of failure or barrenness, whatever the cause, was always part of God’s plan, but only if we hold on to God.

When we look back to Zechariah, he was well advanced in years, well beyond the time of children, while his wife was postmenopausal. For many years, they tried for a child, they laid their lives before God walking blamelessly and obeying the commandments. At their age, there was no hope left to hold on to. The much easier scenario would have been to walk away from the God that seemingly ignored their prayers.

It would have been extremely easy for them to think that God doesn’t exist. He didn’t stick to their plan and He didn’t give them the desires of their heart. After this suffering that lasted many years, after this total loss of hope, Zechariah’s moment came.

His lot came, after he had lost all hope and thought there was no chance of conceiving a child. His lot was taken and his once in lifetime chance came for him to go to Jerusalem to worship. Zechariah lived Hebron; Hebron is about 30 kilometres south of Jerusalem. Roughly the distance between Cronulla to the middle of Sydney CBD.

Zechariah could have easily thought in this moment, what is the point? He served his entire life, yet his one request was not answered by God. Instead, he took his moment. Each one of us in our lives will have a series of moments. Some quiet moments, some very subtle moments, some of them very, very dramatic moments. God at certain points in our lives will reach into our lives and touch us. Sometimes when we expect other times when we don’t expect it.

Perhaps then like Zechariah, God has left us barren. Our lives have not gone according to our plans. But still God reaches out and touches us. And in these moments, we must respond. It may be simply an awakening to sin – a realisation of something I have done, something I’m doing is afflicting me and obstructing my spiritual life. It may be a gentle niggling feeling that I’ve been avoiding confession. It may be a moment of inexplicable joy that I received joy that God touches my heart during prayer or when I listen to a word or when I’m in church.

It may be an awareness that something is far greater than me. It may be an overwhelming sense that God wants me to do something. When you feel these moments, your lot has been cast.  Your moment has come. How then do we react to these moments?

Do we ignore? Do we push it? Do we continue to distract ourselves so we don’t hear it? We must understand these are our moments.

We must discern these moments and cease them before they pass. There was a lady that came who had left the church for a long time that came for a baptism. After the baptism she to me to say goodbye. And as she came up to me, she tried to rush away from me and she began to cry.

I said, “are you alright?”

She replied, “No, no, it’s just something in my eye.”

I said, “Okay, that’s fine, something always goes in my eyes as well.”

And then she left. I messaged her after and I said to her, “There wasn’t something in your eye, is everything alright?”

She replied, “Sometimes whatever happens in church, I just miss it. And I thought you know; this is the chance. This is the chance.”

She didn’t come to church and I didn’t see her there again, but she had a moment. She walked into church and she felt something deeply touched her, but she ignored it. Her moment came, and we can only pray that God gives her many more moments.

The opposite scenario presented itself when I met a young monk in Egypt. He told me that he never entered a church his entire life. He had nothing to do with church, but that wasn’t because he had anything against God, he just didn’t know Him, and was never exposed to church.

One day, a friend of his invited him to play soccer, and the soccer field happened to be in the field of the church. As he walked into the church’s gates thinking only of soccer, a priest walked past him and the priest must’ve mistaken him for someone else, walked to him and said, “I have missed you so much,” and gave him a big hug. In that moment, he began to cry, and he didn’t know why. He said that in that moment it was the first time he felt he had a father. That was all it took, and from then on, he attended every church service for a year and then entered the monastery.

St Anthony the Great heard one verse – “If you would be perfect, give up all you have and follow Me,” and that was enough. He paid attention to his moment. He left and became the greatest monk of the church.

Zechariah had more reason than all of us to ignore his moment. He was a priest, he was blameless, he walked righteously, he obeyed the commandments, and yet for 40 years his prayer was ignored. Despite all logic, he walked 30 kilometres across hill country to Jerusalem, where unbeknown to him, he would receive his moment.

He drew near to God, and God drew near to him, as He revealed His plans that Elizabeth’s barrenness was only for a period to prepare the way for the birth of John the Baptist. While this is not God’s plan for everybody, God always has a plan. He has a plan for you and me, but in the right moment.

Zechariah almost missed his moment, but the nine months of muteness that followed was almost God’s way of forcing him to reflect upon this moment. God wanted him to discern, to stop, to think, to reflect, to perceive the gravity of that moment. When your moment comes, don’t ignore it, but come to God so that He may move your heart.

Five Minutes

Five Minutes

by Marc Bastawrous 

“If you had just 5 minutes with God, what would you say to Him? What would you do?”

That was the silly question posed to me by a close friend of mine once; a question I admit I paid very little attention to on the basis that it was extremely flawed. For starters, God is not limited by time, so by restricting His time to mere ‘minutes’ bothered me. Furthermore, what could I possibly do or say to God in a short 5-minute period that would effectively change Him or change the way He looks at me? I wouldn’t even entertain the thought of responding to such a scenario. It was an ignorant, thoughtless question that no one could realistically answer and I let my friend know it (we’re still close don’t worry).

That was until passion week some years later, when I finally came across someone in a position suitable to reacting to this very scenario. This person is the beloved disciple and friend of Christ, Peter. Let me explain. Following the death of Christ, the disciples were in apparent hiding for 3 days. Not much is said about this time spent in secrecy and even less is said about their thoughts and feelings regarding the events that had transpired. However, one thing is for certain. Each disciple carried with them a level of guilt and anguish over their actions on the Lord’s last day (all but John). They all bore a sense of responsibility for what had happened to their Master. Of the 10 who remained in hiding (John was probably caring for Mary, and Judas, well, he was ‘out of the picture’), 9 of them carried an equal amount of accountability for forsaking Him in the garden. The other one, was Peter. Peter’s forsaking of Christ was a much deeper betrayal. The wound he carried with him post-crucifixion was one of denying His Master and best Friend. And now, he was left in a wilderness.

Often when you lose someone close to you, the one thing you value above all else are the last words you shared with each other. Let’s explore the last words Peter and Christ shared before the Crucifixion:

 Then Jesus said to them, “All of you will be made to stumble because of Me this night, for it is written: 

‘I will strike the Shepherd,
And the sheep of the flock will be scattered,’

But after I have been raised, I will go before you to Galilee.”

Peter answered and said to Him, “Even if all are made to stumble because of You, I will never be made to stumble.”

 Jesus said to him, “Assuredly, I say to you that this night, before the rooster crows, you will deny Me three times.”

Peter said to Him, “Even if I have to die with You, I will not deny You!”

And so said all the disciples.

– Matthew 26:31-35

His last words to Christ were a promise. “Even if I have to die with You, I will not deny You!” There is no doubt that these words haunted Peter in the days after Golgotha. And when I put myself in his shoes all I could imagine him thinking was: “If only I could take those words back – if only I had 5 more minutes with Him.”

Peter is the ideal candidate to answer this question because his time with Christ was ‘up’ as far as he was concerned. But what exactly was his answer?

I imagine Peter didn’t arrive to a conclusive answer immediately. After all, what would you say to Someone you had just denied? Perhaps in the days after the Lord’s death, Peter went back to Golgotha where the Cross may still have been raised. “If I had 5 more minutes with Christ, I would sit in silence at the foot of His Cross,” he may have thought to himself.

Or maybe Peter wandered away from the disciples and went to the Garden of Gethsemane. “If I had 5 more minutes with Christ, I would watch,” he may have contemplated. It’s all speculation but one thing is for certain, Peter yearned for 5 more minutes with his Lord. He desired it above all else and probably, above all others. How can we say this for sure?

On the third day post-crucifixion, Mary Magdalene returned to the place where the disciples were staying and shared the news of the empty tomb. Peter’s response is as follows:

“Peter therefore went out, and the other disciple, and were going to the tomb. So they both ran together, and the other disciple outran Peter and came to the tomb first.”

-John 20:3-4 

He ran. He didn’t wait to hear any more details, he didn’t ask any questions, he just ran. He was in a rush to see Him. Three days of agonising over what he could have said differently, what he could have done differently, and now, a glimmer of hope. “Maybe now is my chance to change everything.” The other disciple who ran with him is thought to be John and, being the younger of the 2 of them, outran Peter to arrive at the tomb first. Although, in spite of his age, I can still picture Peter running to the point of gasping for air. No pain or hurt could compare to the anguish he had just gone through and, even if he had to do it through wheezing breaths, he would tell the Lord exactly what was on his mind. Alas, the tomb was empty, and the Lord was nowhere to be found. Peter would have to wait for his 5 minutes.

That same evening, the Lord appeared to the disciples and revealed to them His risen body. He encouraged them and told them of the Promise of the Father (the Holy Spirit) that would come and endow them with Power. He appeared a second time 8 days later because Thomas was whining that “Unless I see in His hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe” (John 20:25). Still Peter could not find the opportunity to speak to Him. Maybe it was during this time that he second guessed himself. “What could I even say to Him?” Peter would still have to wait for his 5 minutes.

And then finally, a few days later while the disciples were out fishing, the Lord reveals Himself (miraculously) to them once more. This time, Peter would have his 5 minutes one way or another. Being out at sea, “he put on his outer garment (for he had removed it), and plunged into the sea” (John 21:7). Picture it. A man of old age, diving into the ocean and swimming to shore like a maniac. I don’t think Peter even knew what he would say to Him, but he would have his 5 minutes with the Lord. He would have the chance to right the wrongs of the last words they shared with each other. It’s what he had been longing for all this time. It can’t wait anymore.

When Peter arrives at shore, the Lord asks him the one question capable of driving a sword into his heart, “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me?” (John 21:15)

I guess this needs a little explaining. In the Greek language, there are three words used to define ‘love’ – and each word carries with it a specific connotation. The word not often seen in the bible is “Eros”, used to describe a lustful type of love (which we know is not really ‘love’ at all). The word most commonly used in the Gospels is “Agape,” which refers to the self-sacrificing, unconditional type of love that the Lord Himself showed on the Cross – the type we should all aspire for. Then there is another commonly used word, “Philio” – this is the type of love that is used between friends. It describes a fondness more than a feeling of deep affection.

When Christ asks Peter, “Do you love Me?” He uses the word “Agape,” the type of love that is ready to lay its life down. So, what He is really asking him is, “Simon, are you ready to lay your life down for me? Do you love Me enough to sacrifice everything?”

Imagine the shame Peter felt in that moment. The agony of his final words to Christ coming back to haunt him once more. “Even if I have to die with You, I will never deny You!”

“What do I say to that? I can’t make the same mistake. What if these are my last 5 minutes with Christ?”

And so Peter, probably through tears, probably through a voice that has cracked from the heavy emotions weighing on him in this very moment, looks into the eyes of the Lord and says to Him:

“Yes, Lord; You know that I love (Philio) You.” – John 21:15

Philio, not Agape. For the first time, Peter pours out his heart to the Lord, in truth. This time, there is no deceit, no lies. Peter, in his 5 minutes with the Lord, uses it, not to cunningly express his boundless love for Him, but to express just how little he has for Him. He uses his 5 minutes with Christ to give Him his heart.

Peter tells Him, “Lord, I can’t give you the love You’re deserving of. I can’t promise that I would lay down my life for You. I can’t even tell You that You’re the most important part of my life. But what I have I give You. Here’s my heart and all it’s truths. It’s not much but I want You to have it.”

Peter decided that if this was to be his last 5 minutes with his Lord, then he would be honest with Him. In psalm 15, King David asks: “Lord, who may abide in Your tabernacle?”And a single verse later answers with: “He who walks uprightly, And works righteousness, And speaks the truth in his heart.” In psalm 51 he also writes to God, “behold, You desire truth in the inward parts.” But perhaps, most beautifully, Jeremiah writes in Lamentations 2:19:

“Arise, cry out in the night,
At the beginning of the watches;
Pour out your heart like water before the face of the Lord.”

Pour out your heart in truth to Him. No matter what garbage exists in there, no matter how little love – pour it out like water before Him. It was no coincidence that the Lord chose these 5 minutes to restore Peter. It was this scene that corrected my ignorant understanding of the question posed to me by my friend. Yes, while God is not limited by time, I am. And while nothing I say or do will change Him, it will change me and the relationship I have with Him. It paints the picture of true prayer.

“Prayer does change things, all kinds of things. But the most important thing it changes is us. As we engage in this communion with God more deeply and come to know the one with whom we are speaking more intimately, that growing knowledge of God reveals to us all the more brilliantly who we are and our need to change in conformity to Him. Prayer changes us profoundly.”

– R.C. Sproul (The Prayer of the Lord)

So, after all, it’s not the most unreasonable question in the world. And no doubt this is not the only reasonable answer out there. But it’s mine. What’s yours?

+ Glory be to God. Amen +