A Prayer of Desperation (Jonah 2:1-10)

From inside the fish, Jonah prayed to the Lord his God:

When I was in trouble, Lord,
I prayed to you,
    and you listened to me.
From deep in the world
    of the dead,
I begged for your help,
    and you answered my prayer.

You threw me down
    to the bottom of the sea.
The water was churning
    all around;
I was completely covered
    by your mighty waves.
I thought I was swept away
    from your sight,
never again to see
    your holy temple.

I was almost drowned
by the swirling waters
    that surrounded me.
Seaweed had wrapped
    around my head.
I had sunk down deep
    below the mountains
    beneath the sea.
I knew that forever,
    I would be a prisoner there.

But you, Lord God,
    rescued me from that pit.
When my life was slipping away,
    I remembered you—
and in your holy temple
    you heard my prayer.

All who worship worthless idols
turn from the God
    who offers them mercy.
But with shouts of praise,
I will offer a sacrifice
    to you, my Lord.
I will keep my promise,
because you are the one
    with power to save.

The Lord commanded the fish to vomit up Jonah on the shore. And it did. (Contemporary English Version)

Desperate (adjective):

  1. reckless or dangerous because of despair, hopelessness, or urgency: a desperate prayer for help
  2. having an urgent need, desire: desperate to stay alive in a watery grave
  3. leaving little or no hope; very serious or dangerous: desperately stuck in the belly of a fish
  4. extremely bad; intolerable or shocking: skin being bleached white inside of a stomach
  5. extreme or excessive: swallowed and puked-out by a fish

Out of all the postures of prayer I have taken in my life, and in every prayer of desperation I’ve ever uttered to God, none of my experiences were ever quite like Jonah’s. Curled up in a fetal position inside the belly of a big fish will tend to bring out a desperate plea for help. And desperate prayers are the sort God wants from us.

I am God Most High!
    The only sacrifice I want
is for you to be thankful
    and to keep your word.
Pray to me in time of trouble.
I will rescue you,
    and you will honor me. (Psalm 50:14-15, CEV)

The Lord says, “If you love me
    and truly know who I am,
I will rescue you
    and keep you safe.
When you are in trouble,
    call out to me.
I will answer and be there
    to protect and honor you.
You will live a long life
    and see my saving power.” (Psalm 91:14-16, CEV)

Anyplace of difficulty, adversity, or overwhelming situation, can be transformed from the acid belly of a fish to a womb of possibility and new life.

In running from God, Jonah chose unwisely, and took the path of separation and death. Being swallowed whole by a great fish, and languishing in such a place of sheer isolation, is also a metaphor mirroring the actual circumstance of Jonah’s great separation from everyone, everything, especially God.

Our own fleeing from what we hate, and searching for safety apart from the Lord, only lands us in a place of horror. Jonah got himself so far from everything that he became entombed in a living death. In truth, God is the only safe and sacred place we have, our only secure refuge. We don’t need to run in order to be protected – not when God has our backs.

The turning point is whenever we come to our senses and make the choice to unmask our actual thoughts, feelings, and intentions before the Lord. The change comes whenever we make an honest cry of desperation in prayer. For prayer is the very breath of life; it is our hope.

What do you do when you are in distress?

Prayer elicits mercy from the heart of God. The value of adopting biblical prayers, like the ones in the psalter and Jonah’s prayer, is that frequent use of praying them fills our minds and hearts with words in times of great distress.

Its when we are in overwhelming need that scriptural prayers and familiar passages reawaken us with fresh hope for deliverance and renewal.

Jonah’s dark watery grave became empty when he decided to voice his desperate prayer to God. It’s one thing to pray because you want something; it’s another thing to pray because your very life is on the line.

Living for God is much more than holding to particular doctrines or making pious statements about God. The spiritual life is one in which we open ourselves to new beginnings and new life – going beyond ourselves and connecting with a transcendent God.

We must abandon ourselves to God. We are in no position to negotiate or make deals with the Lord. There needs to be a radical letting go of hatred and bigotry, injustice and unrighteousness, and especially our bent toward wanting things our way.

It is from the empty places of life that we find possibility. It was from the grave of the fish’s belly that set up Jonah’s experience of being vomited out in a spiritual resurrection.

Jonah was in the stomach of a big fish for three days and nights, just as the Son of Man will be deep in the earth for three days and nights. (Matthew 12:40, CEV)

Abandoning the false self, forsaking the old life, and coming to the end of ourselves, puts us in a position to pray desperate prayers which God delights to answer beyond what we can even ask or think.

Most holy and merciful God, I am in your care. Help me know that I need not face my troubles alone. May you grant me consolation in my sorrow, courage in my fear, and healing in the midst of my suffering. Fill me with the grace to accept whatever lies ahead for me; and strengthen my faith. Thank you that I have a living hope, through Jesus Christ my Lord, who with you and the Holy Spirit are one God, now and forever. Amen.

Evicting Complaints (Exodus 16:1-8)

On the fifteenth day of the second month after the Israelites had escaped from Egypt, they left Elim and started through the western edge of the Sinai Desert in the direction of Mount Sinai. There in the desert they started complaining to Moses and Aaron, “We wish the Lord had killed us in Egypt. When we lived there, we could at least sit down and eat all the bread and meat we wanted. But you have brought us out here into this desert, where we are going to starve.”

The Lord said to Moses, “I will send bread down from heaven like rain. Tell the people to go out each day and gather only enough for that day. That’s how I will see if they obey me. But on the sixth day of each week they must gather and cook twice as much.”

Moses and Aaron told the people, “This evening you will know that the Lord was the one who rescued you from Egypt. And in the morning you will see his glorious power, because he has heard your complaints against him. Why should you grumble to us? Who are we?”

Then Moses continued, “You will know it is the Lord when he gives you meat each evening and more than enough bread each morning. He is really the one you are complaining about, not us—we are nobodies—but the Lord has heard your complaints.” (Contemporary English Version)

Every person on planet earth knows what a complaint is. That’s because we’ve all complained about something and we’ve all been the brunt of someone else’s complaining. To handle grumblers, we need to first deal with our own complaining spirit. 

Early in the book of Genesis, Adam and Eve disobeyed God. That caused their attitudes to change. Whereas their original reflex responses in the Garden of Eden were to enjoy God and be open, their automatic emotional reflexes after the fall were to hide, blame, and guard themselves. 

Adam’s first response to God after his disobedience was to point the finger at Eve: “The woman you put here with me – she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.”  And Eve’s initial reflex attitude was to shift the blame, as well: “The serpent deceived me, and I ate” (Genesis 3).

Ever since, people have had an automatic attitude of blaming, quarreling, and complaining. The heart drifts toward complaint as if by some gravitational pull because grumbling seems a reasonable response to disappointing events.

Generally, complaints show up as an uninvited guest. You return home from a frustrating day to discover that complaint has moved into your guest room, unpacked its luggage, started a load of laundry, and is rooting through your fridge.

Even as you work to evict complaint—as you move its bags to the curb and change the locks on your doors—it somehow crawls back into the guest room window. Complaint is highly resistant to eviction. 

Before you know it, over time, complaint becomes familiar, even right. With every struggle, we become like the Israelites murmuring in the desert (Exodus 16-17). Although God wants to prepare our faith for works of service in the world, we are hunkered down with complaint, watching TV together, and grumbling through every show and each conversation.

We can discourage complaint’s residency in our lives by inviting another guest to move in with us. That new guest is a prayerful attitude of trust and gratitude. When we choose to trust God and give thanks in the face of deep disappointment, complaint has less space to maneuver.

While attempting to unpack for an extended stay, complaint discovers that trust and gratitude have taken all the drawers in the guest room and already occupy the empty seat at the supper table. Faith and gratitude evict complaint because faith and a grumbling spirit are not able to live in the same house together. One inevitably pushes the other one out.

The ancient Israelites experienced a miraculous deliverance from harsh slavery in Egypt. The Lord parted the Red Sea so that they could walk across on dry ground and escape the Egyptian army’s pursuit. It’s easy to praise God when great things happen, and the Israelites had a whopper of a praise and worship service after that deliverance. Yet it’s quite another thing to praise and trust God when trouble happens – and when it keeps happening over and over again. 

Immediately after the praise and worship, Moses led the people into the desert. There was no water. God deliberately led the people into a difficult situation to test their faith. The Israelites quickly forgot the blessings and began grumbling about their situation. 

Their reflex response was to complain and ignore God’s direct commands. Maybe they did so because they spent four-hundred years of slavery in Egypt, and complaint had made such a home with them that it was second nature to murmur about their situation.

I keep a small c-clamp in my office to remind me that I am not in control, but God is. It isn’t my job to hold the universe together. The c-clamp also reminds me that I need to keep a clamp on my tongue when it comes to grumbling and complaining. Sins of the tongue are some of the most dominant forms of disobedience to God throughout Holy Scripture. 

All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles, and sea creatures can be tamed and have been tamed. But our tongues get out of control. They are restless and evil, and always spreading deadly poison. (James 3:7-8, CEV)

I wonder, can any of us go 24 hours without complaining about something or someone? 

Those who cannot answer “yes” must recognize that’s a real problem. If you cannot go 24 hours without drinking liquor, you are addicted to alcohol. And if you cannot go 24 hours without grumbling about something or someone, then you have lost control over your tongue and you are addicted to murmuring and have an adulterous relationship with complaint.

We must invite everlasting life to take up permanent residence. We need to evict the squatter of complaint. 

God is with us. Difficult circumstances, trouble, hard situations, problem people, and the seeming impossibility that things will not change doesn’t mean God moved out of your house. Instead, it’s evidence that the Lord wants us to exercise our faith.

Let God do it.

O God:
Give us all strength to live another day without grumbling, arguing, or complaining;
Let us not lose faith in other people and withdraw from them, or you, out of spite;
Keep our hearts tender in spite of the ingratitude, treachery, or meanness around us;
Help us to maintain purity of heart, and to live in faith and confidence, so that failure cannot dishearten us;
Open wide our spiritual eyes so that we may see the good in all things;
Inspire us with the spirit of joy and gladness;
and make us worthy and competent servants to suffering souls;

Crisis and Care (1 Kings 19:1-8)

Prophet Elijah by Mykhailo Boychuk, 1913

Now Ahab told Jezebel everything Elijah had done and how he had killed all the prophets with the sword. So Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah to say, “May the gods deal with me, be it ever so severely, if by this time tomorrow I do not make your life like that of one of them.”

Elijah was afraid and ran for his life. When he came to Beersheba in Judah, he left his servant there, while he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness. He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, Lord,” he said. “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.” Then he lay down under the bush and fell asleep.

All at once an angel touched him and said, “Get up and eat.” He looked around, and there by his head was some bread baked over hot coals, and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down again.

The angel of the Lord came back a second time and touched him and said, “Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you.” So he got up and ate and drank. Strengthened by that food, he traveled forty days and forty nights until he reached Horeb, the mountain of God. (New International Version)

In a typical week, I see a variety of people. Here are just a few persons I’ve encountered recently:

  • A man who went for a routine doctor’s visit and was examined, then rushed to the hospital where he had his left leg amputated.
  • A woman who witnessed her son attempt to kill his wife by stabbing her multiple times.
  • A pastor’s spouse who is overwhelmed with the depth of human need and emotional trauma she sees every Sunday in her urban congregation.
  • A man who is bitter, refusing any sort of spiritual care or assistance at the end of his life.
  • A family who watches on, while their beloved mother and grandmother is slowly slipping into eternity.
  • A pregnant mother who is on total bed rest, downright frightened by not knowing what will happen, and if her baby will live or die.

We live in a fundamentally broken world. Everything is askew and awry, with people feeling the brunt of the things which are neither right, nor fair. The examples I highlighted are all, like the prophet Elijah of old, good people who have found themselves in the crosshairs of circumstances beyond their control. 

Their situations left them feeling a range of emotions: abject horror, terrible sorrow and sadness, shocking denial, sheer panic, and crippling shame. The sense of confusion, fragility, and powerlessness are palpable.

So, what in God’s name do we do when we are faced with trauma, either in ourselves or in people we care about? How do we keep going when it seems as if it takes far too much energy just to be myself and do the things I need to do?

A crisis or trauma turns our world upside-down. Things will never be the same again. Yet, it’s a unique opportunity for healing and growth. Whether you care for someone, or need care yourself, there are three questions that have arisen for me as I have gone through my own crises and talk with folks facing traumatic experiences.

Who are you?

It’s only human to question who we are whenever a crisis situation hits. Who is a man if he doesn’t have a literal leg to stand on? Who is a mother when her son commits an atrocity? Who is the pastor’s wife when she seems unable to meet needs? Who is the bitter man when his expectations are not met? Who is the family when their matriarch is gone? Who is a woman if she doesn’t have a child?

It’s not a simple question. And it can’t be quickly answered. Trauma throws doubt on who we thought we were before the crisis. It can expose the shadowy parts of our lives we didn’t know were there, or bring light to the reality that our lives were built on things which don’t last.

Suppose you are a caregiver, trying to offer help. If your goal is to make the person feel better, you’ll quickly find out that you are not God. You cannot fix people’s pain. Who are you if you can’t repair broken people and solve their problems? 

What do I do?

If you’re a caregiver, you take action – not by changing feelings – but through attending to the basic needs of the one in trauma. A crisis situation isn’t the time to explore emotions; it’s the time to feel them. 

While a person is experiencing grief on a monumental scale, offering thoughtful assistance with decision-making, organizing the mundane things of life, and handling necessary details, can be a loving way of bringing care and concern.

In our Old Testament lesson for today, God, the ultimate caregiver, was attentive to Elijah’s immediate needs by ensuring that he was able to rest and be well-fed.

For those facing a crisis or dealing with trauma, your task is to grieve. Allow compassionate people to do things for you. There’s no need of offering an apologetic for your emotions, tears, and troubles. If you’re the kind of person that’s been there for others, let them now be there for you.

How can I move on?

We move on through hope. We continue the journey of life with the confident expectation that it can be good again, even though it might not look like it now.

“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying,

“See, the home of God is among mortals.
He will dwell with them;
they will be his peoples,
and God himself will be with them;
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.”

And the one who was seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.” Then he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life. Those who conquer will inherit these things, and I will be their God and they will be my children. (Revelation 21:1-7, NRSV)

Hope comes from a place of genuine care and not from the posture of trying to hurry yourself or another person along in their emotions because we are unsettled with such grinding grief.

Some people are uncomfortable with seeing their loved one or friend in a state of vulnerability. So they withdraw, or try and get them to short-circuit their grief and get over it sooner than they should. 

There is strength in weakness, and power in vulnerability. True love is a mystery. There are times when we must give up our analysis of events and people, and simply appreciate what is right in front of us. Letting go of control can open to us a whole new world of possibility, creativity, and hope.

Faith is the ability to look ahead and see hope on the horizon. When a community of people strengthen faith in one another through the spiritual means of listening, prayer, active compassion, thoughtful words, and healing presence, then that group of persons has discovered what it means to share the human condition and be a caring presence.

Faith Helps Us Take the Long View of Life (Hebrews 11:23-28)

Moses is saved from the water by Pharaoh’s daughter, by Marc Chagall, 1966

It was by faith that Moses’ parents hid him for three months when he was born. They saw that God had given them an unusual child, and they were not afraid to disobey the king’s command.

It was by faith that Moses, when he grew up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter. He chose to share the oppression of God’s people instead of enjoying the fleeting pleasures of sin. He thought it was better to suffer for the sake of Christ than to own the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking ahead to his great reward. It was by faith that Moses left the land of Egypt, not fearing the king’s anger. He kept right on going because he kept his eyes on the one who is invisible. It was by faith that Moses commanded the people of Israel to keep the Passover and to sprinkle blood on the doorposts so that the angel of death would not kill their firstborn sons. (New Living Translation)

Sometimes we can’t see beyond the end of our nose. We get lost in the here-and-now worries of the moment. We need a better view.

Taking a long view of life happens whenever we place our faith in permanent and ultimate realities, and not merely live by what feels good or drives our anxiety in the temporal moment.

To have faith is to possess an indefatigable and unflagging trust in someone’s ability to achieve a desired outcome. The author of Hebrews describes it this way:

No one can please God without faith, for whoever comes to God must have faith that God exists and rewards those who seek him.

Hebrews 11:6, GNT

Faith looks ahead and sees as clearly as whatever is right now in front of your face. People of faith have the ability to take the long view of life, knowing that God has their backs. The mature person of faith can set aside temporary pleasure to attain a future hope. 

Moses, held up by the writer of Hebrews as an example of such faith, refused to identify himself as the daughter of Pharaoh. He chose to be mistreated in solidarity with his fellow Israelites, instead of having a good time with his high position in the most powerful empire of its day. Moses knew that the treasures of Egypt were not as wonderful as what he would receive from suffering for the sake of Messiah, and he looked forward to his reward.

It’s an understatement to say that our contemporary society embraces instant gratification. We want to feel good, and we want it now. Impulse control may just be one of the best life skills that kids (and adults!) need to learn in society. And one of the most effective ways to distract ourselves from a tempting pleasure we don’t want to indulge, is by focusing on another pleasure.

For the Christian who desires to follow Jesus in all things, looking ahead to better days is a confidence booster, namely because Jesus is better and superior to all things. This isn’t some wistful fanciful notion of positive thinking; this faith is based in the person and work of Christ. Spiritual endurance and perseverance through difficulty will have a reward – and it will be shared along with all of God’s people. 

But if we only consider today and what’s in it for me right now, there are scant resources for responding to the temptations and fluctuations of life. We must put some planning and energy into clarifying and embracing our most cherished values. Then, those values shall inform everything we do, or not do. In the scope of eternity, suffering a bit now is nothing compared to what Christ has yet in store for his people.

Deferred gratification causes us to live differently. In a twist of irony, folks who orient themselves toward the unseen world to come are able to effectively impact and change the visible world they currently reside within – whereas those who focus solely on this present world find themselves falling woefully short with their truncated view of life. We need the wisdom which faith provides us:

We are always confident, because we know that while we are living in the body, we are away from our home with the Lord. We live by faith and not by sight. We are confident, and we would prefer to leave the body and to be at home with the Lord. So, our goal is to be acceptable to him, whether we are at home or away from home. We all must appear before Christ in court so that each person can be paid back for the things that were done while in the body, whether they were good or bad. (2 Corinthians 5:6-10, CEB)

Future hope, fueled by faith, gives shape to how we live today. It enables us to live in solidarity with those who suffer and are mistreated. It ennobles us to live above short-sighted desires and act on behalf of the common good of all persons in the here-and-now.

Lord God Almighty, the One who is and was and is to come, may we, along with your servant Moses, see the plight of all those who suffer in our midst. Give us courage and compassion to live in solidarity with the poor, the oppressed, the forgotten, and all who live with misfortune and misery. May our hearts, burning with love, bear the burdens of all in our care. And may our loving example ignite the hearts of others to accompany the vulnerable in their affliction. We ask this in the gracious name of Jesus through the power of your Holy Spirit. Amen.