Essay :: The Sincerity of a Fool's Prayer

Having spent these recent nights immersing myself in the faithful accounts of a few notable missionaries, I find the peculiar circumstances of our present station less disconcerting and altogether more comforting. It is a sweet solace to know, in spite of all uncertainty, that we are fixed squarely within the centre of God's will concerning the advancement of His holy Gospel.

Previously, I devoted much anxious thought and effort toward steering our work into conformity with those accepted standards which modern society terms the "Church". I sought, with great diligence, to attain formality and official recognition. But what is this recognition, in its simple essence, if not merely to invite souls to sit in the pew, hear a Sabbath sermon, and confine themselves to acceptable "Christian" fellowship and activities? Twice have I pursued this well-trodden path, and twice have I met with a frustrating and unyielding wall. It is now abundantly clear that the Lord was guiding my steps toward a different course. I surrendered my human ambition and resolved instead to wait upon Him. Yet, after these evenings spent considering the matter of Missiology, I have come to a clearer and more profound understanding: that I was never called to embody that which I have long held to be the chief failing of the Church in our current age. 

My distinct summons is to Evangelize—without the impediment of earthly financial support or the constraint of formal ties and boundaries. Indeed, what greater testimony can we offer the world regarding God's faithfulness than to rely upon Him as our sole benefactor? Thus relieved of all human obligation, He is free to transport us wherever He pleases, in whatever manner His sovereign will determines.

Regarding the sacred act of Evangelizing, I receive no opposition from the community; yet, sadly, I find no corresponding personal interest in participation either. All men readily agree that the Great Commission stands, and that the advance of the Gospel is a virtuous thing—but most appear content to petition the Lord to dispatch other laborers to the harvest. As for my own soul, I cannot, in good conscience, abide in idleness while immortal souls perish without hearing the blessed tidings of Christ. 

Let us hold this truth fast: the Kingdom of Christ was never advanced by the cowardly silence of its devoted believers.

The very existence of the Church in this present day stands as a perpetual monument to the selfless giving of our Savior's Life, and the subsequent sacrifice of blood shed by her saints.

Let us be clear: Sacrifice, and not the pursuit of transient success or earthly security, constitutes the sole, immutable foundation of the New Testament Church. It is blood that seals our testimony and bears witness to our faithfulness, encouraging us to follow closely in the shadow of Christ's perfect example.

It is with heavy heart that we must observe how formalities have lamentably watered-down the vitality of the New Testament church. We are engaged in a stewardship concerning human souls, not the management of mindless objects or the ordering of temporal affairs. While creeds and confessions serve a solemn and commendable purpose in solidifying our standards of belief, they tragically also possess the power to lull the believer into an undisturbed spiritual slumber. Of what ultimate utility is a perfectly recited creed to the separated sinner who hath yet to hear the blessed name of Christ?

The Gospel truth does not advance by the measure of what we know, but by the earnest conviction and action borne of that knowledge. What men most desperately need is Christ. What we, as believers, possess is Christ. Yet, what we offer in His stead are often mere formalities, conferences, and sterile academics—thus denying from them the Living Christ, the reality of His transforming power, and the profound blessedness of sharing in His suffering. We commit this grave error whenever we are content to merely congratulate ourselves upon the correct recitation of our confessions, whilst simultaneously steering our lives clear from those very Biblical truths that inevitably place us in the path of suffering.

Our sacred duty is twofold, and requires action: We must plead with the Lord for the eternal souls of the perishing sinner. And we must likewise plead with the sinners themselves, for the sake of the Lord who purchased them with His own blood.

It was upon a early evening in 2017 that I vividly recall appealing to a brother, with whom I shared a long and trusted intercessory companionship, to come and visit me. My earnest object was to share with him a pressing spiritual concern: the grievous and increasing burden laid upon my soul to publicly proclaim the Gospel. Having no clear apprehension of the difficulty ahead, I dearly hoped he might consent to join my new endeavor. I invited him to accompany me, but his reply troubled me, and his words to me were: "That's fine. Why not? If I really wanted to I could do that. But, would I not be throwing pearls before swine?" The rest of his long excuse I forgot swiftly. In the end, I could but ask him to join me in humble prayer. The conviction of taking the Gospel into the public square rested upon me with such an unbearable weight that my soul was in grievous agony. To think that, of all the sons of men, the Almighty would appoint one who harbored such a deep aversion and fear of public attention. I confess I loathed the very notion, yet it was already too late; God hath already arrested and commandeered my will.

I remember the words of my prayer: "If you are indeed sending me, then be with me. If this is not from you, take this away from me. But if this is from you, give me no rest until I go; else I will pull you down from where you are until you show me it was you who sent me." 

I see now that saying such a thing was irreverently stupid of me. But that prayer was answered, and my conditions met. It seems God does understand the sincerity of a fool's prayer, and is only pleased to answer such who is willing to obey. 

I can truly avow that a former self perished upon that significant night. From that very moment, every circumstance that divine providence has permitted to befall me has served but one glorious purpose: to steadfastly draw my soul away from the vain pursuit of man's approval. My heart is now set, fixed like a flint, and wholly immersed in the absolute conviction of this heavenly call.