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8:40am Service | 10:00 Service | 11:20 Service | Sermon Audio

Good morning Chapel family. We’re taking this spring to talk about prayer, and two weeks ago Pastor Paul started our series by referring to the show Downton Abbey. So just to prove that I, too, have a softer side, I’m going to open with a story from Downton Abbey. One of the main characters is a young, British noblewoman named Lady Mary Crawley. And Lady Mary was in love with a young man named Matthew. And Matthew was off fighting in World War 1. So there’s a scene where Lady Mary is kneeling next to her bed, with a picture of Matthew on the bed in front of her. All of a sudden, Mary’s sister Edith unexpectedly enters the room. And Mary quickly hides the picture and stands up, and she says, “What do you want?” And Edith tells her she forgot a book in that room, so Mary gives it to her. And then Edith says, “You were praying.” Which was surprising, because it’s not a very religious family. And Lady Mary says, “Don’t be ridiculous.” And Edith says, “You were praying! What were you praying for?” And Mary says, “Please go. I’m tired.” So Edith leaves, and Mary gets back down on her knees. And this is what she prays: 

“Dear Lord, I don’t pretend to have much credit with you. I’m not even sure that you’re there.” (And the camera focuses on the picture of Matthew in front of her). But if you are there, and if I’ve ever done anything good,” (and now the camera shows the battlefield where Matthew is fighting), “I beg you to keep him safe.”  

It’s a moving scene. But what really caught my attention was Mary’s approach to prayer. I love the fact that it was honest, and that she admitted her doubt, and that she asked for help—those are beautiful things! But there was one really sad part. She assumed that the reason God might listen to her, and the reason God might grant her request was that she had somehow earned it. She says, “If I have any credit with you; if I’ve done anything good, please answer my prayer.” As if she’s cashing in on some good karma that she’s built up. Have you ever found yourself thinking that way about prayer? It does seem kind of logical, doesn’t it? Like God would want to reward you for your good behavior.  

But here’s the problem—with Lady Mary and with us: when we approach prayer that way, we are misunderstanding the whole thing. 

So here’s what I want to talk about today: when we pray, why should we expect that God will listen to us? And how should that change the way we pray? 

Let’s look at today’s Scripture: John 16, beginning in verse 23. This is God’s Word for us today… 

23 In that day you will no longer ask me anything. Very truly I tell you, my Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. 24 Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete. 

25 “Though I have been speaking figuratively, a time is coming when I will no longer use this kind of language but will tell you plainly about my Father. 26 In that day you will ask in my name. I am not saying that I will ask the Father on your behalf. 27 No, the Father himself loves you because you have loved me and have believed that I came from God. This is the Word of the Lord. 

So let’s talk about two things today. First: How Jesus Changes our Status. Those words that I just read were spoken by Jesus to his disciples just after the Last Supper. And he’s obviously talking about something new that’s about to happen. Things are about to change. In verse 24, he says, “Until now you have not asked for anything in my name.” So back then, you would never hear somebody praying, “In Jesus’ name.” That was not a thing yet. But then, verse 26, he says: “In that day you will ask in my name.” So Jesus was saying: “There’s a shift coming in the way that you’re going to relate to God. Something is going to happen that will change the way prayer works.” 

So what is this thing that was about to happen? Well, just before these verses, Jesus says this mysterious thing. He says, “In a little while you will see me no more, and then after a little while you will see me.” And the disciples have a hard time deciphering that. And then in the verse right before our passage, John 16:22, he says: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy. So what is this mysterious thing that would happen that would grieve the disciples? The cross. Jesus was about to get arrested, and put on trial, and beaten, and crucified. But then he says, “I will see you again and you’ll rejoice.” Because Jesus knew that on the third day, he would rise again.  

So the reason that the rules for prayer were about to change had something to do with the cross. Now don’t hear me wrong. Before the crucifixion of Jesus, people obviously prayed. But after the cross, prayer would never be the same. It’s like prayer was about to go from black & white to color. From dial-up to broadband. So what happened at the cross that changed prayer so radically? 

Well, it’s interesting: if you listen to Jesus praying all through the Gospels, he always refers to God as…what? Father. That’s the term Jesus always used. Except for one time. As he hung on the cross, in his agony he cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me.” Why didn’t he call God “Father,” like he always did? Because he was carrying our sins, and being judged for our sins. And that judgment tore Jesus apart from God. Which means for the first time in eternity, Jesus lost his Father-Son relationship with God. At that moment, he couldn’t call him “Father.” It was an unspeakably tragic moment. But his loss was our gain. Think about it like this: on the cross, Jesus lost the privilege of calling God Father so that you and I could have that privilege. Isn’t that awesome?  

So here’s what this means: every time we pray the words “in Jesus’ name,” we are declaring—we are acknowledging to God—that the only reason we get to call him Father—the only reason we have this intimate, Father-child relationship where he hears our prayers and cares about the details of our lives—the only reason we can run into his presence like my kids, when they were little, would burst into my office and run into my arms, and no matter what I was doing I would drop it and embrace them—the only reason any of that is possible is because of what Jesus did. We come in his name. We don’t try to leverage our own name; we don’t appeal to our own good behavior; we appeal to the name of Jesus. Because he gave up his privilege to call God “Father,” you and I will never lose that privilege. Amen? 

Now: I realize that for some of you, there’s a barrier here. Because when you hear the word “father,” you can’t help but think of your own father, and that’s a painful thought. Because your father was absent. Or he was harsh. Or he was abusive. Or maybe you never even knew your father. So when you hear about having God as your father, it doesn’t resonate with you. In fact, that could be why you’ve struggled to pray and be close to God—because you associate Him with the disappointment of your earthly father. Don’t get stuck there. The bad father that you had doesn’t have any right to define fatherhood for you. God will re-define fatherhood for you, if you allow him to do that. 

There’s a professor of journalism at the University of Illinois named John Fountain. And a few years ago, he was on a radio program where they asked well-known people what their beliefs are. And I want to read you a portion of what John Fountain said: 

I believe in God. Not that cosmic, intangible spirit-in-the-sky that Mama told me as a little boy "always was and always will be." But the God who embraced me when Daddy disappeared from our lives—from my life at age four—the night police led him down the stairs, away from our front door, in handcuffs… 

The God…who claimed me when I felt like "no-man's son," amid the absence of any man to wrap his arms around me and tell me, "everything's going to be okay," to speak proudly of me, to call me son. 

I believe in God, God the Father, embodied in his Son Jesus Christ. The God who allowed me to feel his presence…telling me (even when I was told I was "nothing") that I was something, that I was his, and that even amid the desertion of the man who gave me his name and DNA and little else, I might find in Him sustenance. 

I believe in God, the God who I have come to know as father, as Abba—Daddy. 

It wasn't until many years later, standing over my father's grave for a conversation long overdue, that my tears flowed. I told him about the man I had become. I told him about how much I wished he had been in my life. And I realized fully that in his absence, I had found another. Or that he—God the Father, God my Father—had found me. 

That’s powerful, isn’t it?  

You know what the truth is? None of us had a perfect father. And that includes my kids. So really all of us need to let God re-define what fatherhood is. Was your earthly father absent? Your heavenly Father is fully present. Was your earthly father harsh? Your heavenly Father is compassionate. Was our earthly father unfaithful to your mother, or to you? Your heavenly Father is faithful, always. This is the God that we get to call “Father.” And every time we pray “in Jesus’ name,” we’re reminding ourselves that it’s only because Jesus hung on the cross and lost his Father, that we get to approach God as Father. Aren’t you thankful for that? Jesus has permanently changed our status.  

And the more we understand that, it will lead to this second thing: let’s talk about How Jesus Changes our Prayers. I see three big ways that approaching God in the name of Jesus changes our prayers. 

First, Confidence. Look with me at Hebrews 10, starting in verse 19: 19 Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, 20 by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, 21 and since we have a great priest over the house of God, 22a let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings… That’s a fancy way to say: since Jesus died for us on the cross, there’s nothing that blocks us from entering the presence God. We can have complete confidence and assurance that when we approach God, he’ll respond to us like a loving father. 

This is a picture of a woman named Bilquis Sheikh. She was a Muslim woman, born into a wealthy Pakistani family. And years ago she was sitting at her grandson's bedside in the hospital, waiting for some test results to come back. The doctor came into the room, and she was surprised to see this Muslim grandmother holding a Bible. So they started to chat, and Madame Sheikh admitted to the doctor that she was searching spiritually, and she had seen the Bible in the room, so she just picked it up. And the doctor, who happened to be a Christian, said, "Why don't you pray to the God you are searching for? Ask him to show you his way. Talk to him as if he were your friend." For a Muslim woman, that was an absolutely foreign concept. And then the doctor said something that was even more shocking. She said: "Talk to him as if he were your father." So later on that night, she was alone in her room, and she got on her knees and tried to call God "Father." But she couldn't get the word out of her mouth. It seemed disrespectful. 

But then she started thinking about her own father. She thought, “When I was a little girl, my father didn't mind if I bothered him. Whenever I had a question or a problem, no matter how busy he was, he would put his work aside and devote his full attention to me.” And all of a sudden, she felt flooded by hope. And she thought, “What if God is really like that?” She actually starting shaking with anticipation. And she got out of bed, and sank to her knees, and she looked up and started praying, “My Father.” And her life would never be the same. 

In the days that followed, she learned that it was Jesus’ work on the cross that enables us to call God “Father.” So she gave her life to Christ, and she lived in the tiny minority of Christians in Pakistan. And she wrote this book, called I Dared to Call Him “Father,” which has influenced hundreds of thousands of people.  

Probably not many of you come from a Muslim background, although maybe some. But I would guess that many of you come from a religious background that’s very formal and very liturgical, and they presented God in a way that made him sort of hard to reach. Like he was a little too holy for us regular people. Maybe you thought that going directly to God was a little presumptuous, so you got into the habit of asking a deceased saint to pray for you. And this truth should be so freeing for you! You are invited to come directly to the Father. Not because you’ve earned it! But because Jesus earned it for you. Go boldly to the throne of grace.  

Secondly, understanding this enables us to pray with Confession. Do you know those times in life when you do something stupid or selfish, or you say something that hurts another person, and you feel bad about it? That’s called conviction of sin. And at those moments, our instinct is to assume that God is made. Have you ever felt that way? Like, “Oh—I sinned. God’s mad.” And just like Adam in the garden, our instinct is to hide, and just kind of let it blow over, and maybe by tomorrow God will have forgotten about it, and I can pray then. And that is exactly the wrong way we should respond to our guilty conscience. So how should we respond? 

There’s a passage in the book of First John that explains this really clearly. Look at 1 John 1:9-10…9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. 10 If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word is not in us. So it’s inviting us to come to God and confess our sins. And there’s something that’s so easy to miss here. Look what it says: “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and…” would you expect it to say “merciful”? Like, God has so much mercy and pity for you, that he forgives. But it doesn’t say that. It says when we confess, God is faithful and…what? Just. Which means, he doesn’t just wink at our sin, or sweep it under the rug. So how does God maintain his perfect justice, and still forgive us? 

Look what he says next: 1 John 2:1-2: My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have an advocate with the Father—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. 2 He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world. So here’s the picture: it’s a courtroom scene: any time we sin, and we come to God and confess, we have the world’s best defense attorney on our side. Because Jesus, our advocate, is able to say to the Father something like this: “Father, I know Dave messed up. But remember—I went to the cross and spilled my blood for that sin. You’ve already judged me for that sin—and it would be unfair of you to punish two people for the same sin.” And God the Father—who’s not a cranky judge who’s hoping to condemn me, because He planned out this whole system in the first place—is able to joyfully say, “Exactly right. He stands forgiven.”  

Now: does that conversation actually take place every time I sin? Probably not. But that’s the spiritual reality that’s going on: God takes my sin really seriously…but he’s completely satisfied by the payment of Jesus. And therefore, my first instinct should be to go straight to my Father. Right? And just confess the sin to him. He knows I did it already. God’s not up there going, “You’re kidding me!! You did that??” He knows! He just wants me to acknowledge it. The Greek word for “confess” is “homologeo” which literally means, “To say the same thing as.” So God says that was sin, and I’m saying the same thing—that was sin, and I confess it, and I plead the blood of Christ. I come in his name, and I ask forgiveness in his name. And I walk away cleansed and restored. 

Someone has said that you can tell if someone understands the gospel by how they act when they have sinned. When you don’t understand the gospel, your sin makes you avoid God; when you do understand the gospel, your sin makes you run to God. I like that. So because of the cross of Christ, confession should be a regular part of our prayer life. You don’t look at confession as a scary, condemning thing; you see it as a freeing thing. 

And then finally, praying in Jesus’ name brings Child-likeness. In his book The Praying Life, Paul Miller reminds us that over and over again, Jesus tells his disciples to become like little children. But he says the problem is, when we become adults, we forget how to come to God like a child. We feel like we need to be super-spiritual, and sort of clean up our act before we pray. And the result is, we can be kind of phony when we approach God in prayer. I love this quote: 

Jesus does not say, “Come to me, all you who have learned how to concentrate in prayer, whose minds no longer wander, and I will give you rest.” No, Jesus opens his arms to his needy children and says, “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28, NASB). The criteria for coming to Jesus is weariness. Come overwhelmed with life. Come with your wandering mind. Come messy. 

The same way that a young child comes to his father, with complete openness and trust.  

When my son Jonny was around a year old, we were sitting at the table, and he pointed to the container of apple juice and he said, “appa doo.” It was one of the first things he ever said. So I looked at him and said, “Now Jonny—first of all, you should say, ‘Please.’ Secondly, it’s not ‘appa doo’; it’s ‘apple juice.’ And besides that, I’m feeling a very self-centered vibe coming from you, and that’s a dangerous way to approach life.’” You know what Norma Jean and I actually did? We laughed and poured some more apple juice into his bottle. Because we loved him, and we delighted in his messy imperfection. Guys, our Father loves us, and he delights in our messy imperfection. Don’t try to be someone you’re not. Come as you are, confident of your Father’s love. When you pray and your mind wanders, don’t beat yourself up and think, “God must be so disappointed with me!” Just get back to praying, knowing that God has so much love and grace toward you, just like any good parent has with their children.  

There are so many more angles to this, but here’s the bottom line: every time we pray in Jesus’ name, it should remind us of the awesome truth that because Jesus lost the fatherhood of God on the cross, we get the fatherhood of God forever. And that changes everything. 

I’ll close with this. There was a famous American preacher named R.A. Torrey, who was preaching once in Australia. He was standing on the stage, getting ready to preach, and someone handed him an anonymous note. The note said this: 

Dear Dr. Torrey: I am in great perplexity. I have been praying for a long time for something that I am confident is according to God’s will, but I do not get it. I have been a member of the Presbyterian Church for thirty years, and I have tried to be a consistent one all the time. I have been Superintendent in the Sunday school for twenty-five years, and an elder in the church for twenty years; and yet God does not answer my prayer and I cannot understand it. Can you explain it to me? 

So Torrey read this note, and he realized it was an opportunity to make a point So he decided to read it out loud to the audience. And then here’s what he said:  

This man thinks that because he has been a consistent church member for thirty years, a faithful Sunday school superintendent for twenty-five years, and an elder in the church for twenty years, that God is under obligation to answer his prayer. He is really praying in his own name. We must give up any thought that we have any claims upon God…But Jesus Christ has great claims on God, and we should go to God in our prayers not on the ground of any goodness in ourselves, but on the ground of Jesus Christ’s claims. 

And then he went on with his talk. 

And after that session was over, he came down from the stage, and a man walked up to him. And he said, “I’m the one who wrote that note. And you have hit the nail on the head.” 

So…how about you? Do you find yourself approaching God in your own name…or are you learning to approach him in Jesus’ name? See, those aren’t just words that you that you tack on to the end of your prayers! Every time you say it, you get reminded of the one who died for you so you could have the privilege of calling God “Father.”