Bret Hammond

I was driving home the other day when I noticed it again. As the utility poles passed by, I couldn't help but catch the shape of the cross. Has that happened to you? Maybe you see the cross in the panels of a door, the mast of a ship, or just two pieces of wood that happen to fall together right. Something within us seems drawn to the cross; its image is ever before us.

In a moment of wry humor, we might even call it our "cross-eyed view." I believe it's born out of our desire to see Jesus at the center of everything in our lives. As we draw near him, the story of the cross and his resurrection pull at us, changing how we view our world, the people around us, and ourselves. We see hints of his presence everywhere.

We're spending a few weeks looking at Easter Stories as we lead up to our celebration of the resurrection, finding stories that point to the cross and new life in the Bible and the lives of our friends. All the while, the image of Jesus comes into sharper focus for us.

A friend of mine called to tell me of a possible cancer diagnosis he was facing. He said he felt far from God and wondered if he should read through the book of Job in the Bible. Of course, when we think of Job, we think of his suffering and patience. But what of Job's hope? And what of his Easter?

As a child, I never understood what the fuss of Easter was about. I simply accepted that once a year, we colored eggs, there was chocolate, and a basket with a few gifts showed up. Oh, and there was that Easter grass . . . that stuff got everywhere!

As I grew into faith, Easter took on meaning. I remember the first Easter after I said "yes" to Jesus. I attended all the services: Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, even Sunrise (I had no idea God got up that early)! Then, after I came home, I opened my Bible and read each Gospel's resurrection story. I remember thinking, "This changes everything."

I believe it still does. The Easter story changes our stories. As we lead up to Easter, we're looking through the Bible to find Easter stories in unusual places (not just at the ends of the Gospels). We're also going to be hearing our own stories and seeing how the Easter story has brought new life to us.

I never realized the phrase "thoughts and prayers" was viewed with disdain by some people. But, of course, it's easy for me to get defensive about that—prayer has become my first response to tragedy. The problem is, for many of us, prayer is also our last response. We're seldom moved beyond prayer to sacrifice, give, and reach out to those who are hurting. We don't give "thoughts and prayers" a second thought. I feel the conviction of that.

And, of course, some question what good prayer does anyway. Does prayer change anything? While we can tell stories of miraculous answers to prayer, we honestly have to tell the stories of when we prayed, and nothing changed. In fact, we need look no further than the Bible and the story of Jesus pleading with the Father to let the cross pass him by, to realize that prayer doesn't always change things. So what do thoughts and prayers do?

C. S. Lewis once wrote, "I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God. It changes me." I think that's the place for all of us to begin with our "thoughts and prayers." If we plead with God to change our circumstances, we should be willing to receive his grace when he chooses to change us.

One of the first things I remember being taught as a child was my home address. I could rattle it off perfectly long before I started school. My parents thought it was vital to know my address if I ever got lost.

Chances are someone who loved you taught you The Lord's Prayer a long time ago. They wanted you to know it by heart for those moments when you needed to pray and even needed to find your way back home. The Lord's Prayer gave you a place to begin a lifelong conversation with your Heavenly Father.

It's been a tough week for me. First, some difficult decisions have led to significant changes at Lincoln Christian University, a place I dearly love. Lincoln has been a massive part of my life and faith, and I find myself grieving. On top of that, the news from Ukraine has me praying for peace but anticipating the worst and concerned about those who find themselves in harm's way.

I recognize within myself a tendency to pretend everything is ok. I anticipate that, at some point today, someone will ask, "How are you?" and I will very likely say, "Fine!" But I'm not fine. What makes it so hard for us to be honest with each other? Are we any better at being honest with God?

When Jesus taught us how to pray, he included confession as a vital part of the way we communicate with God. "Forgive us our debts." Or is it, "Forgive us our trespasses?" When we tell God we have deficits in our character, and that we have stepped into places we didn't belong, we recognize all the more our need for his grace. Confession truly is good for the soul.

Norwegian preacher, teacher, and theologian Ole Kristian Hallesby was not known as a man who backed down from his beliefs. He spent two years in a concentration camp for speaking out against the Nazi occupation of Norway. The strength that sustained him was not found in his intellect or personal convictions. Instead, it was found in the time he spent in prayer.

He wrote, "Prayer is the conduit through which power from heaven is brought to earth." I think it's essential to see that downward flow of prayer—from heaven to earth. It isn't only about us making our requests known to God; it's about how the conduit of prayer reveals the character of God within us.

Before prayer changes our circumstances, it changes us.

6.5 million dollars will buy you a thirty-second commercial during tonight's Super Bowl. You can bet that at 6.5 million, every word has been carefully chosen for impact and engagement. We will talk about some of those ads for weeks to come.

In Matthew 6:7, Jesus warns of those who, in their prayers, believe they will be "heard for their many words." While they would not have understood the value of 6.5 million dollars, they did believe their words were valuable, and the more words used, the better chance they had of getting Gods' attention.

Jesus instead reminds us that God's attention is already on us. "The Father knows what you need before you ask him" (Matthew 6:8). So take heart; you are worth more than many Super Bowl ads.

The word for the day is “Labyrinthine.” It is the tendency to make things overly complicated or convoluted. I love that “Labyrinthine” does exactly what it defines! It’s quite anfractuous, don’t you think?

Preachers tend to make things far more labyrinthine than necessary (See what I mean?). We add unnecessary complications to faith and following Jesus. We even have ways to complicate prayer! But, when the disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray, he didn’t confuse them or overload them with information. Instead, he gave them a prayer and told them some stories.

Jerry Seinfeld once noted that most people's number one fear is public speaking. Number two is death. This means that the average funeral attendee would feel more comfortable being the person in the casket than the person delivering the eulogy.

Moses would have preferred the casket. In Exodus 4:10, he cries out to God, "I am not eloquent, either in the past or since you have spoken to your servant, but I am slow of speech and of tongue." There's something familiar to me in Moses' words. I've heard many people tell God what they can't do, but I've also witnessed what happens when they overcome that fear and serve anyway. I've listened to amazing messages from people who told me they couldn't speak, heard heartfelt prayers from those who told me they couldn't pray out loud, and seen God's grace poured out on those who simply said "yes" to him.

Before we tell God what we can't do, we should take note of what he can do through us—any of us. That's what God confronts in Moses before he leaves the burning bush. If we listen carefully, we can hear his call for us and his promises as well.