Praying the Names of God for 52 Weeks

What if somebody came along with a grab bag and offered you a chance to pull something out of it for free? Instead of being filled with trinkets or candy, this bag holds something priceless, something transformational. He calls it a Virtue Bag, because it contains every virtue to which a human being can aspire.

He lets you look inside. You see patience, humility, kindness, wisdom, justice, hope, charity, and more. You realize that these are the building blocks of a good life–perhaps even a great life– because you believe that virtue is the framework for human flourishing. Suddenly, effortlessly, you have the chance to simply reach in and pull out one of these gleaming treasures. Which would it be?

For me it would be courage. Why? Because in the face of conflict, I often wobble. Also because, as C.S. Lewis put it, “Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point.”

It seems evident that we are at a testing point of some sort in which boundaries are being blurred and wildly stretched. While some react with outrage, many others are content to keep their heads down and say nothing. Why risk the noxious labels that might be pasted on your forehead like so many scarlet letters should you disagree with the cultural orthodoxies prevalent in your circles and even, perhaps, in your church?

Peer pressure is squeezing the life out of us. But why does it rule us so?

I came upon a bit of wisdom recently, after reading a rather brave essay about African slave traders by the Nigerian writer Adaobi Tricia Obinne Nwaubani.¹
I was curious to know more about her and discovered this quote from A.W. Tozer tucked into her website and described as one she “finds most instructive.”

Think for yourself whether much of your sorrow has not arisen from someone speaking slightingly of you. As long as you set yourself up as a little god to which you must be loyal there will be those who will delight to offer affront to your idol. How then can you hope to have inward peace? The heart’s fierce effort to protect itself from every slight, to shield its touchy honor from the bad opinion of friend and enemy, will never let the mind have rest. Continue this fight through the years and the burden will become intolerable. Yet the sons of earth are carrying this burden continually, challenging every word spoken against them, cringing under every criticism, smarting under each fancied slight, tossing sleepless if another is preferred before them.”

As I continued to explore Nwaubani’s website, I found a fascinating article² she had written for the New York Times about her remarkable father, Chukwuma Nwaubani, who, though running an accounting firm by day, would “embroil himself in one fight for justice after another, causes that were technically none of his business.”

His battles and victories so infuriated the authorities that they retaliated by pushing his wife out of her job in local government.”

Adaobi Tricia goes on to say that her father’s fearless crusade against injustice had angered so many people that “by the time the dead cats, monkey paws and severed heads of chickens started appearing on our front porch, no one was sure exactly who was trying to get rid of him.”

Though a native doctor prescribed using juju* to fight juju, Adaobi Tricia says that her grandmother had another idea. A founding member of the local Assemblies of God church, she simply “stretched her palms over our heads and spoke in strange tongues, interjecting in Ibo to ask Jesus to protect their children, and their children, and their children’s children, forever.”

The jujus were quickly piled up and burned, and the native doctor died the following Tuesday. Since he was the one who had rounded up the items hidden in the yard, everyone believed that the evil forces he’d unearthed had struck him down in revenge.

What a story and what an amazing heritage! And what a reminder of the kind of courage we need to face the cultural moment we’re in.

I’m not pushing for any of us to begin shouting down voices we dislike. There’s already a profusion of bullies on the left and the right. Instead, we need curious, courageous, and principled people, with varying perspectives, who refuse to twist the truth in order to prop up a particular narrative or score a point over the opposition. In other words, we need all hands on deck, including you, no matter the size of your social circle.

Remember that “little god,” Tozer speaks of? As one of my pastors used to say, “If you can’t say, ‘Amen,’ say, ‘Ouch!’” Recognizing our tendency to shrink back when God is calling us to step forward, can open the door for us to lean further into grace so that we can know ourselves and God better.

Though we can’t extract courage from a grab bag, I’m confident we’ll have more of it as we begin to recognize we are children of a very big God. If we know who our Daddy is, we’ll stand taller. So what if we have to swim upstream for a while in a great river of peer pressure. At least most of us will never need to wade through a bunch of juju chicken heads and monkey paws piling up on the porch.

1. https://www.wsj.com/articles/when-the-slave-traders-were-african-11568991595
2. https://www.nytimes.com/2012/06/17/opinion/sunday/reform-in-the-name-of-the-father.html

If you liked this reflection, come join me over at Substack, where I write about gaining perspective and avoiding common pitfalls as we respond to each other and the world around us: https://annspangler.substack.com/

*Juju is the belief that certain objects (called”juju”) can be infused with magical powers. It is practiced in certain West African countries, including Nigeria.

Scripture uses various metaphors to describe God’s people—a temple, a body, a bride, a garden, a vineyard, or a flock of sheep. Shepherding, in fact, was an important occupation in ancient Palestine, practiced by such biblical notables as Abel, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, and David. The role of the shepherd was to provide three things for the flock in his care: food, protection, and guidance.

Just as God’s people are sometimes described in Scripture as a faithless bride, they are also sometimes pictured as a scattered flock. At such times, their leaders are portrayed as false shepherds who care little for the well-being of the flock entrusted to them. Without a shepherd to watch over them, the sheep scatter, becoming easy prey for wild animals and thieves.

Out of love for his wayward people, God promises to become their Shepherd. The book of Isaiah paints one of the most poignant images of God in the Hebrew Scriptures:

Like a shepherd he takes care of his flock.
He gathers the lambs in his arms.
He carries them in his arms.
He gently helps the sheep and their lambs. (Isaiah 40:11)

Jesus shows us the lengths to which he as the Good Shepherd, or Poimen Kalos, will go in order to protect his sheep. Unlike those who merely work for pay, Jesus will never abandon his sheep. Instead, he will defend them with his own life. After his resurrection, Jesus exhorted Peter to follow his example by feeding his sheep. Leaders of the early church were referred to as “pastor,” another translation of the Greek word poimen.

Praying to the Good Shepherd

I met Judith Fain when she was a doctoral candidate at the University of Durham. As was her habit at the time, she was spending several months of the year in Israel. One day, while walking on a
road near Bethlehem, Judith spotted three shepherds approaching each other with their separate flocks of sheep. When the three men stopped to converse, their flocks began to intermingle. Judith couldn’t imagine how the shepherds were ever going to sort out which sheep belonged to them
since by now they had melted into one large flock. Several minutes later, as the men said their goodbyes, she learned the trick. Magically, as the shepherds called out to their sheep, the one large flock sorted itself into three separate flocks, with each sheep following the voice of its shepherd.

Her experience illustrates why the land of Israel has often been called the fifth gospel. Two thousand years after the death of Christ it still testifies to his words and teachings. Hadn’t Jesus assured those who had flocked to him: I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep
know me? Hadn’t he promised to go after the one sheep that strayed? Hadn’t he identified himself as the shepherd who would give his life so that his sheep might be safe?

One after another, the promises of our Good Shepherd are intended to communicate who we are and who he is. We are weak, vulnerable, and beloved, and he is our strong, protecting Shepherd.

Thank God for a shepherd to lead us and help us lie down in peace, assured as we are of his ability to care for us and to guide us safely home.

Prophet, priest, and king—these were the three major offices in Israel, titles also ascribed to Jesus. While the king governed as God’s representative on earth, the priest’s role was to represent the people to God by offering sacrifices, prayers, and praise on their behalf.

Moses’ brother, Aaron, was the first Jewish priest. Thereafter priests were drawn from among his descendants and they were given charge of worship, which eventually became centralized in the Jerusalem temple. Jewish worship primarily consisted not in singing songs and listening to sermons but in offering sacrifices as prescribed by the Mosaic law. The priest’s role was to offer sacrifices for his own sins and for the sins of the people.

The priesthood consisted of three groups: the high priest, ordinary priests, and Levites. The Levites occupied the lowest rung of the ladder, taking care of the temple service. The priests, who alone could offer sacrifice, were next. At the pinnacle stood the high priest, the only one authorized to enter the Most Holy Place on the Day of Atonement. On his ephod (a garment attached to the breast piece) were stones that bore the names of the twelve tribes of Israel, a physical reminder that the high priest was bearing the people into God’s presence.

The New Testament identifies Jesus as a priest according to the order of Melchizedek (Melchizedek, a priest who was a contemporary of Abraham, predated the Levites). This was a way of indicating that his priesthood was both different and superior to that of the Levitical priesthood. The book of Hebrews, emphasizing Jesus’ role as High Priest, may have been aimed primarily at priests who became believers after the resurrection. The Greek word for “priest” is hierus.

Jesus is our great high priest—the one who faithfully bears us into God’s presence by virtue of his self-sacrifice. Because of his work, those who believe in him are part of a kingdom of priests who in Christ Jesus offer ourselves on behalf of others.

Praying to Jesus, Our Priest

Imagine for a moment that you’ve taken out a mortgage for a house you can’t afford. This house is magnificent, more beautiful than any other house on earth. It’s so expensive that the seller won’t take money for it. He wants something far more valuable—your life. Now imagine that you have come to an agreement. You agree to pay him twenty thousand dollars each year. For that amount of money, he’ll let you stay in the house. But, no matter how much money you pay, you will never be able to pay off the debt, because it can only be retired with the currency of your life.

That’s a rough analogy of our position pre-Christ. Our sin incurred a debt we could not pay, for as Scripture says, “the “payment for sin is death” (Romans 6:23).

To deal with this debt, the Jewish people observe Yom Kippur, also known as the Day of Atonement. In biblical times Yom Kippur was the day on which the sins of the nation were laid on the head of a goat (called a scapegoat). The goat was then driven into the wilderness. On that same day, the high priest would enter the Most Holy Place of the temple, symbolically carrying the people into God’s presence and then asking forgiveness for the sins of the nation. Since the payment for human sin is human life not animal life, the forgiveness obtained was only partial and the ceremony had to be repeated year after year.

Not wanting this situation to continue forever, God sent his Son, who paid our impossible debt with the currency of his perfect life. Jesus is the only high priest who can truly bear us into God’s presence, obliterating the debt we owe.

The Jewish people at the time of Christ longed for a coming king who would be descended from their great king, David. In Matthew’s Gospel (21:1-9), Jesus fulfills the messianic prophecy of Zechariah 9:9 by riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, an animal that symbolized both peace and humility.

Though Jesus is mightier than any earthly sovereign and more powerful than the unseen powers of the universe, he entered the world humbly, as an infant born in Bethlehem. Despite this, Magi from the east still recognized the newborn king.

When you think about what it means that Jesus is the King of Kings, call to mind his mastery, not merely over human beings, but over nature, disease, and death itself.

The passage from Revelation 19 presents Jesus riding not on a lowly donkey but on a magnificent white horse, as befits the greatest of all kings. Throughout the New Testament Jesus is variously referred to as “King,” “King of the ages,” “King of the Jews,” “King of Israel,” and “King of Kings”—this last one translated from the Greek phrase Basileus Basileon. Even today some Christian churches are called “basilicas,” a phrase meaning “the hall of the king.”

Praying to the King of Kings

Turn on any news channel and it would be hard not to conclude that the nation is obsessed with politics. We have succumbed to what some have called the “political illusion,” believing that every human ill has a corresponding political solution. No wonder our divisions have become so bitterly entrenched. A lot is hanging in the balance.

Of course, political divisiveness is not limited to our era. Jesus himself was born into a highly divisive political environment. It was into this environment that he began speaking of his kingdom. Jesus performed miracle after miracle, each of which was designed to pull back a curtain of sorts, revealing God’s power over death, disease, and darkness. Every miracle exposed a hidden reality, one that many of us still miss—that despite appearances, God and no one else is in charge of the universe.

Many people misinterpret Jesus’ words about entering the kingdom of heaven. They think he was talking about going to heaven when we die. But his words in this regard were not primarily about the afterlife. Instead, Jesus was issuing an invitation to live the greatest life possible beginning right now and extending into eternity. We become great only as we advance the cause of the greatest of all kings. We enter Christ’s kingdom by believing in him and by living under his reign through the power of grace. Our loving obedience acts like a catalyst to advance his kingdom as more and more people embrace the gospel and begin living by his standards. And, get this. Christ’s kingdom is composed of people we sometimes despise—both Democrats and Republicans, liberals and conservatives. It might even contain a few lobbyists and lawyers! Anyone who is primarily aligned with Christ’s purposes through the power of his Spirit is living in and advancing his kingdom.

Maybe it’s time we drop the mistaken idea that the political world is capable of delivering everything we long for. Instead of letting political commentators erode our respect for each other, perhaps it’s time to realize a more primary allegiance, an allegiance to the one we call King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Only he can establish a world in which peace and justice are the norm by which we all live.

To understand the significance of this title, it’s important to realize how gates functioned in the ancient world. One of the worst tragedies that could befall a walled city was to have its gates breached. Once that happened, the city was left defenseless against marauders. Hence, when Samson carried off the gates of Gaza after its citizens tried to kill him, he was demolishing the city’s defenses (Judges 16:1-3). Sizeable cities had more than one gate and all had to be defended.

City gates also functioned as the locale for various social and administrative activities. Elders would gather at the gates, where judgment would be rendered and business would be conducted. Even prophets used the gates to announce their divine messages to the people of the city.

The Hebrew word for gates is sa’ar. In addition to referring to cities, it was also used of the temple gates. Psalm 118 referred to these as the “gates of righteousness,” indicating that by entering the temple, the Israelites were entering into a place where they would have access to God’s presence. Even heaven was pictured with gates. When Jacob dreamt of angels ascending and descending a ladder, he awoke to exclaim, “How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven” (Genesis 28:17).

Two primary Greek words are used for “gate” in the New Testament. Pyle can be translated “gate” or “city gate.” Jesus used this word when he told his followers in Matthew 7:13 to “Enter through the narrow gate.” He used it again in Matthew 16:18 when he assured Peter that the gates of hell would never overpower the church. Though many Christians have assumed this passage indicates that the church will never be overcome by evil, it has a far more positive thrust, implying that the church itself is advancing against the gates of hell, which will not hold out against it.

The second Greek word is thrya, which can be translated “door,” “gate,” or “entrance.” This is the word Jesus used when he told his followers in John 10:9, “I am the gate. Those who enter the sheep pen through me will be saved.”

Praying to Jesus, Our Gate

“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.” If the ancient world had been exposed to the poetry of Robert Frost, they would surely have scoffed at this line, concluding that the poet could not possibly have been serious when he penned it.  Of course Frost wrote the poem “Mending Wall” not in the ancient past but in modern times, when walls had long gone out of fashion as a method for defending a city.

When Jesus told his followers that he was the gate, he wasn’t speaking of city walls but about an enclosure in which sheep were penned. The enclosure was far different than what we might imagine. It wasn’t a white wooden fence surrounding green patches of grass on which sheep could spend their days contentedly grazing. Shepherding in Israel was a rugged profession, especially when a shepherd had to lead his sheep out onto the hillsides for pasture. Since it wasn’t practical to bring the sheep home every night, he would stay outside with them. At night, he would lead them into an enclosure with walls but no gate. Once all the sheep were in, the shepherd would simply lie down across the opening. He became the gate, using his body to keep the sheep from getting out or predators from getting in.

By using this imagery, Jesus is telling us that he will keep everyone who belongs to him safe, even at the cost of his life. Whatever tragedies may afflict us, Jesus will not let anything or anyone snatch us from him.