Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary

By Anne Ferguson, PhD Program and Dean of the Chapel

Jesus’ Baptism by John. Chapel of the Unnamed Faithful. Photo by Al Caldwell.

Therefore, my friends, since we have confidence to enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus,20 by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, (that is, through his flesh),21 and since we have a great priest over the house of God,22 let us approach with a true heart in full assurance of faith with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. 23 Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful..24 And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds. Not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some; but encouraging one another and all the more as you see the Day approaching.
(Hebrews 10:19-25)

Have you ever considered how very bizarre intercessory prayer is?

First of all, why on earth would God listen to our requests? Presumably, God has a plan for this world and for all of the people in it. Also, presumably, that plan is working itself out by God's own power, and will inevitably end in the way that God has in mind. So what makes us think that our endless pleas will make any difference?

Second, where do we get the nerve? Who are we to suggest that perhaps God ought to arrange things differently from the way they now are? Do we not trust in God's providence? Do we really think that we know better?

And yet, scripture advises us to pray. We are invited to bring our cares and concerns and needs to God, and to ask that they be addressed, notwithstanding all of our theology about God's omniscience and omni-benevolence. The church has always prayed for the needs of the world, and for hundreds of years that ministry of prayer has been the central feature of the church's worship on Good Friday. On this day, we kneel "at the foot of the cross," and voice the pleas of the poor, the sick, the imprisoned, the oppressed, the victimized of every nation.

In his incarnation, his ministry, and certainly in his death, Christ revealed that God stands with the victims of this world: with the poor, the outcast, the forgotten, the prisoners, the subjugated, the wounded, the refugees. We do not pray to a God who is loftily above the pain and squalor of this world, but to a God who was incarnate, and experienced nearly every humiliation that human life has to offer.

The author of Hebrews says that we enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus, and that the way was opened for us through his flesh. Christ did not stand at some antiseptic distance from the mortifications that flesh is heir to, he entered into them fully, and drank the cup of suffering to its dregs.

There is so very little that most of us can actually do to relieve the suffering of the world. We do not hold power in the councils of nations; we do not control vast amounts of wealth; we cannot stop a hurricane or an earthquake. But, for reasons beyond our understanding, God has promised to listen to our pleas. Never forget that you have a ministry of intercession, and never doubt that the One who hears the needs of the world from your lips understands the pain of which you speak.