Everett Ostrom was the pastor when I was confirmed. There were only three of us in the class, but he was faithful to teach us and pray for us. I didn’t known until years later that every Saturday after Confirmation Class, Pastor Ostrom would fall on his face on the study floor and weep over me and pray for me. He kwew I was pretending to be a Christian and he yearned to see me make a true decision for Christ.

A year later, the Lord answered his prayers (Warren Wiersbe, Be Myself, Wheaton [Victor Press, 1994], 20).”

God is not looking for people to work for him, so much as he is looking for people who will let him work for them. The gospel is not a Help Wanted ad. Neither is the call to Christian service. On the contrary, the gospel commands us to give up and hang out a Help Wanted sign (this is the basic meaning of prayer). Then the gospel promises that God will work for us if we do. He will not surrender the glory of being the Giver.

In Desiring God, page 146.

Just because “Oh my God!” is abused in our culture—a case of taking great God’s name lightly and in vain—doesn’t mean we should refrain from the vocative “O my God!”

Note in the Bible how often . . .

Read the rest here.

We are taught to pray “our Father.”  “Our” is plural.  “Father” implies siblings.

James M. Grier:

To approach God as Father implies the whole shared relationship of family. The stress seems to fall on the relationship of God to the church with secondary emphasis on the individual and relationship to God.  James M. Grier

See also Christianity is against individualism quote from Cornelius Plantinga.

James M. Grier:

Prayer is an exercise of faith. It is based on need . . . not need with demand for personal security and fulfillment, but need enlightened by faith and subordinated to the will of God. God’s grace must intervene to meet the need.

Quoted from, Toward a Theology of Prayer, 10.

I asked God for strength that I might achieve.

I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey.

I asked for health that I might do greater things.

I was given infirmity that I might do better things.

I asked for riches that I might be happy.

I was given poverty that I might be wise.

I asked for power that I might have the praise of men.

I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God.

I asked for all things that I might enjoy life.

I was given life that I might enjoy all things.

I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for.

Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.

I am, among all men, most richly blessed.

This qualification in mind, let me suggest a couple of constructive uses of a bowl of urine.

Use #1 – When we pray for people in nursing homes it would be a good thing for us to get on our knees and pray next to a bowl of urine. A graphic reminder of the smells that many people live with might give a greater sense of urgency in our intercession.

Use #2 – Maybe if you’re considering skipping church in the near future, or if it has been some time since you invited someone into your home, then put a bowl of urine on your kitchen table for a little bit and consider the fact that there may be a time very, very soon when you would give everything in your possession to sing with God’s people, or hear the Word preached in person, or invite someone over for hot apple pie and ice cream.

Or, you could just skip the bowl of urine exercise and make an apple pie and invite someone over or go to church and soak in the sights and sounds of being with God’s people.

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Today when I was at the nursing home, I mentioned in passing that I had called in my sermon title and text to our administrative assistant.  The lady I was visiting stopped me right there in the conversation.

“Pastor,” she asked, “What is your sermon title and text for this Sunday.”

I stopped, read the text to her, and talked about Philippians 4:10-20.

You or I can’t imagine how much this lady in the nursing home would like to be in church this Sunday.  Or, how much she would love to be able to invite someone over to her home.

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While I’m at it, I should mention, an improper use of a bowl of urine. Don’t live in fear of the future.

As a pastor, I read Psalm 23 to one elderly person in the nursing home.  She was too confused to even talk much.  But, I assured her as I prayed for her that the Lord is her shepherd.  And, God will give her the grace to walk this tough stretch of road.

And, if you have trusted Him as Lord and Savior, then He will give the strength to follow Him wherever He calls you in life.  When you consider the sights and smells that you may face in the future, don’t be afraid.  God is our refuge and strength, an ever present help in trouble.

Read this and pray that your pastor would be most passionate about the Gospel, especially if you are a brick in the Valley.

I have learned a very important lesson over the years: those I have the privilege to teach are not usually most affected by the general content of my teaching; they are often most affected by what I am most passionate about.

I am still learning this, and it’s all too easy to forget.

When I teach, my passion must be theologically informed, and proportional to the content or point I am making in the sermon. This insight is not original with me (no insights are original with me!), and I have found this point better articulated by Dr. Don Carson in a lecture he delivered last year at the CBMW Different by Design Conference (Feb. 2, 2009, Minneapolis, MN). While speaking of those who are passionate for social justice, he delivered this caution:

There are some wonderful instances of ordinary Christians, not least the young, who are concerned to preach the whole gospel unabashedly and do good first to the household of God and then, as much as is possible, outside as well [Galatians 6:10]. That has got biblical mandate behind it.…

My warning would be to those who are coming along and talking a lot about, “I want to be faithful to the gospel, but I also want to do social justice of good works.” My warning would be: it is not just what you do, it is what you are excited about.

And the implications are broader than social justice. All manner of topics can capture our excitement, like church methodology, parenting style, or any other point of application. Carson continues,

If I have learned anything in 35 or 40 years of teaching, it is that students don’t learn everything I teach them. What they learn is what I am excited about, the kinds of things I emphasize again and again and again and again. That had better be the gospel.

If the gospel—even when you are orthodox—becomes something which you primarily assume, but what you are excited about is what you are doing in some sort of social reconstruction, you will be teaching the people that you influence that the gospel really isn’t all that important. You won’t be saying that—you won’t even mean that—but that’s what you will be teaching. And then you are only half a generation away from losing the gospel.

Make sure that in your own practice and excitement, what you talk about, what you think about, what you pray over, what you exude confidence over, joy over, what you are enthusiastic about is Jesus, the gospel, the cross. And out of that framework, by all means, let the transformed life flow.

Seminary professors and preachers will transfer to others what they are most passionate about. And those we serve should see a difference between our passion for the gospel and our passion for other issues. It’s worth asking ourselves regularly: Is it clear to others that nothing excites me more than the gospel of Jesus Christ and him crucified?