Intercession: noun: the act of intervening on behalf of another; the action of saying a prayer on behalf of another.
“But Moses implored the Lord his God…and the Lord relented from the disaster that he had spoken of bringing on his people” (Exodus 32:11-14)
Too many of us are haunted by a sense of defeat when it comes to intercessory prayer.
We look at the reality of the world around us, and find ourselves plagued by doubt. In the face of so much injustice, so much darkness, apathy and hopelessness easily break in to our hardened hearts.
We are perplexed by the same old questions:
“God, are you listening?”
“God, are you working here? I can’t see you.”
“How long, O Lord?”
Immersed in the darkness that we see around us, we lose sight of the power of God to redeem our present reality. To avoid disappointment, we relegate His promises to the future. Isn’t salvation simply something to be enjoyed in a far-off eternity only once we have suffered a lifetime in this godless world?
Standing in the Gap
Prayer is powerful. We believe this, but we don’t live like it. “I believe,” we cry out with the father of the boy with the unclean spirit, “help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24).
Our sense of defeat in prayer is fuelled by a small view of God; a God who is only interested in saving a few individual souls, and not in redeeming and restoring the whole of creation.
We need to reclaim a big-vision theology of prayer fuelled by a big-vision God. Our prayer must be fuelled by a picture of God who is content not merely to save a few forlorn souls from a world doomed to go to hell in a handbasket, but a God who is in the habit of making all things new (Revelation 21:5).
Intercessory prayer has been described as “standing in the gap.” When we pray for the Kingdom to come, we stand in the gap between the reality that is – a world marred by brokenness and sin – and the possibility of the restored and redeemed world that God has promised.
When we intercede, we anticipate a world to come, the day when there will be a new heaven and a new earth. To many of us, the prayer that Jesus taught us – “your Kingdom come, your will be done” – has lost its raw power. When we ask for the Kingdom to come we are not merely dreaming of some abstract, distant future alien to our present circumstances. To pray for the Kingdom to come is to call into concrete existence the rule and reign of God in the here-and-now.
Romans 8:22 tells us that “the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.” In prayer, we participate in the groaning of creation for the redemption of all things. We cry out to God, that he may bring about the transformation of this world.
When John the Baptiser sent messengers to Jesus to question whether he really was the Messiah to come, Jesus answered “The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor” (Matthew 11:5). In other words, he tells them that the rule and reign of God promised by the prophet Isaiah – the Kingdom of God – is being established here-and-now. This Kingdom is not some far-off hope attained only in a foreign future, says Jesus. Your God is on the move now, in this time and this place, bringing about the redemption of all things.
When we intercede, we claim the same reality of God’s redeeming presence for our city, for our nation, and for the world in which we live. We believe that the Kingdom of God is really among us. We believe that we can see the blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead raised, and the poor have good news proclaimed to them, because our Father is on the move here and now.
To pray for the Kingdom to come is to call into concrete existence the rule and reign of God in the here-and-now.
A life of prayer is a life lived in tension. We acknowledge that the redemption of God is yet to come in its fullness, on that final day when Christ returns in victory. Almost paradoxically, we appeal to God to do what He has promised to do here-and-now. We pray in confident faith that we will see the goodness of God in the land of the living (Psalm 27:13). We appeal to the same Father who transferred us from the domain of darkness into the domain of light (Colossians 1:13) to overcome once and for all the darkness that haunts His Creation.
Intercession, then, is full of possibility. It is to stake our existence on the possibility that our Father not only can act, but will act to redeem His Creation. To pray is to believe that God will bring about that which He has promised: the restoration and redemption of all things.
Prayer as resistance
When we intercede, we call the power of the Father who orders all things into the disorder and chaos of this world. We call on our Creator God to speak into the storm of our existence, to bring peace where there is unrest and wholeness where there is brokenness.
To intercede is to stake our existence on the possibility that our Father not only can act, but will act to redeem His Creation.
To bow the knee in prayer is an act of resistance against a culture that continually puts the self at the centre. To pray is to surrender our own priorities for the priorities of our Creator, Redeemer God. Prayer is an act of sacrifice, an embodied statement of our utter dependence on our Father in Heaven. Prayer is a declaration of our commitment to the priorities to the Kingdom.
We are an army waging war on our knees. In prayer, we call upon God to make His power perfect in our weakness. We acknowledge our utter dependence, as creature to Creator, and appeal to His goodness to work for the good of His people and His Creation.
To pray is to wage war in the quiet. When God’s people bow the knee in prayer, we begin a revolution against the tyranny of busyness that plagues our world. When we kneel, we oppose the noisiness of a world starved of solitude, in order that the perfect peace of God may break in.
To pray is to wage war in the quiet.
So we do not lose heart. In prayer we stand together against the apathy and cynicism that pervades our culture and so often pervades our thinking. In prayer we appeal to a big God – the King of Kings and Lord of Lords – not the small God that our imaginations have created.
Our Father is in the business of making all things new, and in prayer He invites us to participate in the redemption of all things. He calls us to “stand in the gap” between the old order of things as He ushers in a new order:
Will you accept the call?
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21:4).