Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Do you feel sorry for Pontius Pilate? I do. Sometimes. 

Assigned to a backwater Roman province inhabited by troublesome religious fanatics, keeping a brutal peace with threats and swords and crosses. Despite his troubles and the malcontents he governed, I think Pilate retained some sense of fairness and justice.  

When the religious leaders brought Jesus, he said, “OK. What are the charges?” (18:29). 

They replied, “He’s a criminal, that’s why we’re here.” 

“Then don’t bother me,” said Pilate. “Judge him by your law.” 

“Done,” they said. “Our law condemns him to death. Capital punishment is your department” (18:30-32). 

Pilate interviewed Jesus to assess the problem. 

“Are you king of the Jews?” he asked. I hear in his question a plea for sanity in this insane world. Surely this prisoner is lucid enough to know he’s not a king.

“Me, a king?” said Jesus. “Did you think that up yourself or have you been listening to rumors?” (v 33-34). 

“I’m no Jew,” Pilate said. “You are and your people hate you. What have you done?”

Jesus said, “I’m not king in this world. My kingdom’s from a different place” (v 35-36).

“Ahh,” exclaimed Pilate. “So you are a king!” Can you hear his sigh of resignation. He thought he’d heard it all but this prisoner-cum-king presents a new level of insanity.  

“So you are a king.” 

“If that’s how you put it, I won’t argue,” Jesus replied. “I came into the world to tell the truth. People of truth listen to me” (v 37). 

“What is truth?” asked Pilate. I’m guessing Pilate doesn’t see a shred of truth in this prisoner. Let Jews practice their religion. Let Jesus rule his invisible kingdom. Pilate’s truth is visible, Rome conquering the world. Pilate’s creed is pragmatism. Do something. Solve a problem. Make a judgement. Don’t waste time philosophizing about truth.  

So Pilate announced his verdict. This prisoner can call himself “king of truth” if he wants, or even “king of the Jews.” That’s not in my wheelhouse. That’s no threat to Rome. You religious leaders can go away and debate truth with Jesus. Don’t waste my time.

Let’s pray. 

O Father, what is truth? Does science give a true measure of earth’s age? Is a billion years of evolution your idea or merely our imagination? Are our lives flecks of dust in a cosmic universe, or are we truly children of the most high God?

O Father, when you speak of truth, you don’t point to the stunning vastness of the universe, or the complexity of human history, or the probabilities of quantum mechanics. You explain truth by sending a person. Jesus, who showed up on earth, announced his invisible kingdom, journeyed  through lies and imprisonment and death, and promised freedom and truth to his followers. 

He is our truth. We are citizens of his kingdom. Students of his teaching. Apprentices to his way of life. We are his brothers and sisters, your children on earth.

Teach us to live this truth, for he said, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” 

Amen.

I’m Daniel, on the channel “Pray with Me”.

YouTube channel: Pray with Me – YouTube.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.

When someone writes my biography, I want them to skip the shameful episodes. But Gospel writer John didn’t show that courtesy to his friend Peter. 

In John 18, Peter lied three times, saying he wasn’t Jesus’ disciple. 

John’s gospel is supposed to be good news about Jesus. So why does it publish bad news about Peter? Peter’s hypocrisy sure doesn’t show Jesus as an amazing teacher.

Here’s the story. When Jesus was arrested, Peter was in fighting mode. He pulled his sword and chopped off someone’s ear. The next day, Peter was in full retreat.  “Umm, Jesus? You think I know him? Remind me who he is.” 

For three years, Peter had grown accustomed to miracles–water into wine, lunch for 5,000, storms stilled, walking on water. Exciting times with a powerful Jesus. That was Peter’s life. 

But now Jesus has been arrested, accused, condemned. He could say something to make soldiers back off. He could just walk away from trouble. But no! This time Jesus quietly submits to false accusations and miscarried justice. 

Yesterday Peter used his sword in a story he understood. Today the story has changed, and Peter backs away from a plot that is going wrong.  

Let’s pray. 

O Jesus, we know your story. Miracles. Wine. Free lunch. Storms stilled. Critics silenced. Disciples learning a new way to God. 

But Peter, and we, have come to see another side of you. Walking into trouble instead of on water. Being interrogated instead of controlling the narrative. Risking your life under a corrupt religion and an unjust empire. 

Like Peter, we follow because you are powerful, not weak. We come for truth, not for the lies and conspiracies that now circle round you. We follow because we thought justice would win, but today’s headlines are partisan religion and corrupt politics.

O Jesus, help us find our place with you, wherever your story leads. In this confusing life, may we walk with you. In good times and bad, may we follow faithfully. 

Teach us to walk with you.

Amen.

I’m Daniel, on the channel “Pray with Me”.

YouTube channel: Pray with Me – YouTube.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Who was in charge of Jesus’ arrest, trial, and crucifixion? Was it the religious leaders who concocted charges? Pilate who had Jesus whipped and crucified? Maybe God who seemed to be watching from afar? 

John’s gospel gives the answer. 

After the Last Supper, Jesus went across the Kidron Valley, near Jerusalem, with his disciples. Judas was waiting there, with soldiers and religious officials to arrest Jesus and shut down his irksome program of miracles, disciple-making, and religious subversion. 

Jesus said to them, “Who do you want?” 

“Jesus of Nazareth,” they replied (v 4-5).

“I am,” Jesus said, echoing an Old Testament name for God. The arresting party didn’t get it, but John did. 

At Jesus’ words, the soldiers fell down. Really? Soldiers, accustomed to strong language and stronger weapons, tripped over Jesus’ words? Just because he spoke God’s name?

After they got themselves back up, Jesus asked again, “Who do you want?” 

“Jesus of Nazareth” (v 8). 

“I already told you! That’s me,” said Jesus, sounding annoyed. “Take me if you want. But let my disciples go” (v 9). 

Peter, who had recently promised he would die for Jesus (John 13:37), drew a sword and chopped off a man’s ear. Maybe it was a miracle, or maybe his incompetent sword-play that kept him from cutting off the man’s head.

Jesus told Peter, “Put your sword away. My Father is giving me this cup to drink” (v 11). 

Jesus doesn’t play victim. He doesn’t lawyer up to protect himself. He doesn’t want his disciples to act like security guards. In this play, Jesus has the lead role and the main speaking parts. 

Judas, the betrayer, made a brief appearance, but John shooed him offstage to put Jesus in the spotlight. Jesus is also the director, giving orders, keeping soldiers on script, telling Peter how to act his part.  

Let’s pray. 

O Jesus, how easily we get off script in the play of lives. We write our own lines, speak our own thoughts, choreograph our own moves.  

Teach us to be actors in your play. Like the soldiers, may we bow down at the name of God. Like Peter, may we drop our swords at your command. Like you, may we drink the cup the Father gives us. 

As we play our part in your great drama, help us obey your directions. May we say the lines you write for us, and play the role you script for us. May our story be the story where you are in charge. 

Amen.

I’m Daniel, on the channel “Pray with Me”.

YouTube channel: Pray with Me – YouTube.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.

What is the most difficult chapter in John’s gospel? For me, chapter 17, Jesus’ prayer for himself, his disciples, and future believers. 

I have three difficulties with that prayer. 

First, John describes Jesus being “lifted up” on the cross as a sign of glory, but I cringe at the brutal execution. Move along, folks, too gory and no glory here. 

But John sees otherwise. Act one of Jesus’ glory: he’s lifted up on a cross to become the savior of the world. Act two: he’s lifted up higher, into heaven, to resume sharing God’s glory. 

A second difficult thing is the lack of story. So far in John, Jesus has been busy interacting with many people: a wedding party at Cana, foreign exchange tellers at the temple, a puzzled Nicodemus, a woman at a well, hostile religious leaders, Lazarus’ grieving family, disciples. But chapter 17 is a monologue. Jesus talks to his father, and doesn’t tell us if his father responds. 

A third difficult thing is the vast and deep curriculum Jesus covers. I can’t wrap my head around much of his thinking. Consider: 

   “Make them holy through your truth. Your word is truth” (v 17). What would my life be if I understood the truth and became holy? I’m not sure. 

   Jesus prayed, “I’m not of this world, and neither are my disciples; but don’t remove them from the world. Protect them” (v 14-15). Again, I’m not sure I get it. What is my relationship to the world? What do I need protection from?

   Jesus prayed, “May all believers be one, like I am in you, Father, and you are in me” (v 20-21). All believers one? For 2,000 years we’ve argued about doctrine and practice and what Jesus meant. Who’s in charge of Jesus’ church today? The pope? The Southern Baptists? The Pentecostals? How can we all become one? 

That’s what I find difficult about Jesus’ prayer. 

On the other hand, here are three things I like. 

First, Jesus calls God “Father” six times. There’s a friendliness, an intimacy, a shared life, a sense of safety in the close relationship Jesus has with his Father. I wonder if I could have a relationship like that with God, my father? 

Second, Jesus mentions the world 17 times in his prayer. As a Jesus follower, I’m glad he recognizes that my life is firmly rooted in a place and in a cultural system called the world. Theologian Deitrich Bonhoeffer said we should be “worldly” Christians. It’s not just a place in heaven we’re looking for, but a place on earth.

Jesus knows the world poses dangers for his followers, so he prays protection from the evil one who rules the world, and he prays that we will become holy while living in the world. 

Third, I like Jesus’ relationship with his followers. “I in them, and you, Father, in me.” Fortunately, my religion is not just a distant God telling me how to live. It’s a nearby God, making his home in me, changing me from the inside out.  

Let’s pray. 

O Jesus, I do not understand but I repeat your prayers to your father, who is also my father. 

   Make me holy through your truth, Father. Your word is truth (v 17). 
   Help me to be in the world, not of the world (v 14-16). 
   Help me share the full measure of Jesus’ joy (v 13). 
   Protect me from the evil one (v 15). 
   Give me the glory that you gave Jesus (v. 22).
   Bring all Jesus’ followers to unity (v 23). 

But most of all, make your home in me and change me from the inside out. 

Amen.

I’m Daniel, on the channel “Pray with Me”.

YouTube channel: Pray with Me – YouTube.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Does God give you everything you pray for? In John 16 Jesus said, “Whatever you ask in my name, my Father will give you ” (v. 23). 

Eight years ago, my first podcast was, “The Problem Jesus Created for People Who Pray.” My problem? Jesus promised whatever I asked for, but that didn’t work, so why bother praying?

Think about it. There are two ways to pray. The first is with a shopping list. God has everything. I don’t have much, so when I pray, I read him my shopping list and head for the check-out counter. 

That’s a transaction-driven prayer life. Measured by tangible results and by stuff God gives me. Sometimes God answers my shopping list prayers. Usually, not so much.  

Another way of praying doesn’t ask, “What do I want God to give me?” but “How can I spend time with God?” That sees prayer as a relationship, not a transaction. 

A friend had a leg operation, followed by six weeks at home with her leg in a cast. “I’m looking forward to an extended time of intimate fellowship with God.,” she told me.

I visited after three weeks to see how she and God were doing. The operation had gone well, the cast was fine, and she was getting better. But life with God? Not so good. She hadn’t found much time for God. And when she did, she didn’t experience the quiet, rewarding intimacy she anticipated. 

I sipped her tea and didn’t offer advice.

In my experience, it’s difficult to have a satisfying relationship with God. When I show up to pray, he seldom shows up at all. Maybe he has a different schedule or maybe has different ideas than I do about how our relationship should work. 

Author Henri Nouwen said, “Why should I spend an hour in prayer when I do nothing but think about people I am angry with, people who are angry with me, books I should read,  books I should write, and thousands of other silly things that happen to grab my mind for a moment?” (The Road to Daybreak, (New York: Image Books, 1989), p. 29).

My problem exactly. 

Nouwen’s answer? “I might think that each hour is useless, but after thirty or sixty or ninety such useless hours, I gradually realize that I was not as alone as I thought; a very small gentle voice has been speaking to me far beyond my noisy place” (ibid., p. 30).

Let’s pray. 

O Father, Jesus promised you would give us whatever we ask in his name. But you don’t. When I need comfort, you are distant. When I want intimacy, you are absent. When I need support and encouragement, you are silent.

So why do I pray, and what can I make of Jesus’ black and white promise? 

I pray because I believe you listen. 
I pray because I need to hear your voice.
I pray because you have answers, even if I can’t hear them yet.  

Take my prayers, born in anxiety, marred by distractions, afflicted with impatience.  

Be with me in my useless hours of prayer. Hold me in your arms. Turn my restless thoughts to you. Hear the prayers I cannot pray. 

Thank you that you live in me, and that I live in you. Help me grow in our life together. 

Amen.

I’m Daniel, on the channel “Pray with Me”.

YouTube channel: Pray with Me – YouTube.