Prayer
"Whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours." (Mk 11:24)
Verse Observations: Mt 24:20, Mk 13:18, 14:35-36, II Tm 2:25
Why does God say he isn’t like man and doesn’t change his mind, when sometimes he does if you can convince him to? (I Sm 15:29, Gn 18:23-32, Ex 32:10-14)
How did Mary know to ask Jesus for a miracle? And why making wine of all things? Why not a healing, something more necessary? Why did she insist on it even though he said it wasn't his time? And if it WASN'T his time, why did he do it?
Why would God, being omniscient, go down to see if the report of Sodom and Gomorrah was true? (Gn 18:21) Why did he say he was going to check out the city, when he had actually been intending to destroy it all along? (Gn 18:21-32) Furthermore, Abraham pleaded with God concerning the cities as if God truly was going to check out the cities, which we can forgive him for, because he was thinking in a human way, but the funny thing is is that God actually went along with it. God should have just told him from the beginning "Abraham, I already know that there's less than 10 righteous people there, so don't bother with this pleading."
What's the point of praying if 1) God already knows my thoughts and feelings, and 2) God has already planned out all things according to his will and he will do as he sees best? (I Thes 5:17, Ps 139:1-4, II Kgs 19:21-25, Is 14:24, 26-27, 22:8-11, Lam 3:37, Mt 6:10, Acts 2:23, 4:27-28)
Why would Daniel pray for the fulfillment of a prophecy that he already knew had to happen? (Dn 9:1-19)
Well, if we get nothing else from this, it's that you have to pray for things that are already certainly going to happen. For example, at the end of Revelation, John writes, "Our Lord come!" even though we all know for sure that that's going to happen. Not that there's some things that are certainly going to happen and other "lesser" events that may not. We know that everything that happens is in the divine plan, and everything in that plan is equally surely going to happen. So we see we have to pray for everything, big or small. Of course, this isn't an attempt to explain why.
Why would Jesus pray that he not be crucified if he already knew the will of the Lord and his divine plan ordained from the beginning? And wouldn’t the prophecies not be fulfilled (as he himself mentioned)? Then he would be causing God the Father (and himself) to be a liar. (Mt 26:39, 53-54) So my big question is, why would Jesus waste his breath?
I'd also like to note that it's strange that Jesus says, "if possible". There's one other place where he uses that phrase -- when he talks about the devil tricking the elect "if possible" at the end of the age. (Mt 24:24)
This is so weird -- what does it mean that God could take away "this cup" and yet he didn't? And if he could not, what does that mean? And why would Jesus say, "But not my will, but yours"? What was the point of this if he already knew the Father's will? This is especially strange since Jesus said, "Father, all things are possible for you." (Mk 14:36) Then what's the point of praying?
Not that this is going to answer the question, at least not directly, but it reminds me of Dr. Pangloss's maxim "in this best of all possible worlds". Although everyone scoffs at the thought, I mean, how could this possibly be the best of all possible worlds ... what if it is, in a way? Obviously, in absolute terms it's not, since there's heaven, which is definitely the best of all possible worlds, but what if there's something about this world, something inherent not even to this universe, but to any created, and might I add physical universe, that would make it always fall short of being the best (I'm obviously excluding the New Heavens and Earth). While we're on it, perhaps I've said this already elsewhere, but I'm actually kind of shocked that this world isn't worse than it is. Why not have a literal hell on earth at all times, not just say, in Communist Russia or China?
So what are these things that would make this world inherently doomed to be fallen? For one, our free will. Even this hindrance to a perfect world couldn't be avoided in heaven. I'm talking about how the rebellious angels had to be kicked out of heaven. It's like there was no way of preventing it, since they too have free will. The only thing that could be done was to kick them out after the fact.
Well, it turns out that I think there's an even deeper reason for all the sin, both in heaven on earth. Why couldn't it be that free will doesn't have to be so dangerous? Why doesn't every created being choose good over evil? So this made me think -- is this really true? The angels -- did any of the good angels ever sin? I quickly tried to do a little research on this, and found the following article: The Catholic Teachings on the Angels -- Part 5: Why the Angels Remain Loyal to God. While I can't be absolutely sure that this is orthodox or even commonly held teaching, it sure rings true (ie, corroborates everything else I know about theology, at least, the pertinent parts of the article), so I did no further research into the matter. What really caught my attention is 2 things: 1)that the obedience or rebellion of the angels is parallel to our (humans) own final choice at death for or against God, whether you die in a state of grace or mortal sin. It had always seemed to me that this angelic obedience/rebellion is final and irrevocable, but seeing that this is akin to our own human, what I'll call "ultimate" choice, it made more sense why fallen angels can't repent, and why loyal angels can never fall (also akin to the state of the saints in heaven, who have been forever perfected). So this sounds right to me and I think it sheds a lot of light on the question at hand. (This is talked about under the section Why the Loyal Angels Now Cannot Sin.) 2)This explains why there can no longer be second rebellion of angels -- sides have been chosen and this will be the state of things for all eternity. As for the other speculations about the fall of the angels having to do with the rejection of the Incarnation, the salvation of mankind, or the revelation of the Trinity, I don't know. As for the Incarnation, it sounds plausible, but that doesn't mean that that's what really happened. Not that this is really pertinent to what we're talking about, but I thought you'd be interested in my other thoughts on the article.
Anyhow, this actually dramatically complicates the picture. (By the way, if you'd like to read more of my thoughts on this issue [ie, the fall of the angels and how this relates to the fall of man], you can check out the page (About) the Divine Plan/Fate & Free Will. It's in the question that starts off with Eccl 7:14.) It complicates it because we have to ask, why is there this difference between angels and humans, that the human race as a whole has fallen, but (at least according to the interpretation by tradition) 2/3 of the angels didn't? It's true that the "angelic race" isn't completely incorrupt, and in that sense we've both fallen, but that's quite a difference -- 1/3 vs the whole lot. This sprouts up even more questions -- why 1/3? Why not none? Why couldn't humans be more like the angels? Whereas at least 2/3 of the angels made it to eternal beatitude, Jesus sure makes it sound like only 1% of humans are going to make it (about the wide and narrow roads, and about it being harder for a rich man to enter heaven than for a camel to go through the eye of a needle).
Now going back to my "even deeper reason" that I mentioned above, keeping in mind all the complications I brought up above, at least as far as humans go (this wouldn't apply to angels, as we've seen, and this is why I can't universalize my supposition, thus, the complication) at least as far as humans go, and this seems part and parcel with being a created, and therefore limited being, it seems that a creature will always love itself more than anything else. It seems like the default. In a way it makes sense. The creature only lives "through its own being". This makes it biased towards its own existence. I think this is why only God can love with a pure and total love (ie, to love as much as is possible). Although creatures who choose God can love too, it will never match his love, and I think this is on top of the fact that no creature is eternal or boundless like God.
So now going back to this "best of all possible worlds", while I don't think there's any way that I can defend my thoughts on this definitively, I wonder if this is in fact the best of all possible worlds. I mean, the best God could do given restrictions inherent to creating creatures that have free will and that are limited. Furthermore, I can't help but think that the role of sin, pain and suffering in this age is actually essential, to the point that it's actually the point of creation. Strong words, I know, but if you believe, as I do, that God does nothing without a reason, a good reason, then it follows that there is indeed a point to all the outrage and suffering. So you can come at this from 2 different angles. There's the "negative" side, which is that God did the best he could given the circumstances (free will and creaturely limitations) -- in this sense God merely "tolerates" evil in order to gain a greater good (more creatures that love him and each other). So I call this the "negative" side because it "couldn't be helped", it was inevitable. Then there's the positive side, where God not only tolerates evil, but wills it, not in the sense that he enjoys or supports evil, but in the sense that in some mysterious way it plays a vital role in this age, that it's meaningful to live in an imperfect world, even to be imperfect, and to suffer. He even gets personally involved, becoming one of us, living life with us, suffering (unjustly) with us and because of us. God doing things from the negative reason is OK, but it's not victorious. It's making do. This doesn't match my conception of God. Not that it's my right to conceive of God how I want, but to me, God is the one in charge, the one who knows exactly what he's doing, who takes action and sees to it. And I think the scope of his imagination is so wide that he was willing to take on even evil, and do something miraculous and heretofore inconceivable. As it says in I Cor -- "... no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him ..." (2:9). Or as it says in Eph "he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come. And he put all things under his feet and gave him as head over all things ... the fullness of him who fills all in all." (1:20-23) So we see that all things will be subsumed and made subservient to him, even when we had given up hope and were on the verge of despair.
So now I think we're ready to really address the question. -- What does it mean that God could take away "this cup" and yet he didn't? From what we've discussed, God being all-powerful could take away the cup, and yet he didn't, because in the inscrutable mind of God, that was what he wanted. That's what he thought would be best, I think for all the reasons we discussed above. "But not my will, but yours." Again, the "Christian tension". The tension between the God who tolerates, who finds a way, and the God who is victorious and unconquered. God who suffers, really suffers, who finds suffering unpleasant, just as we all do, because that's what suffering is, and the God who finds meaning in suffering.
Now what does this have to do with prayer, since this is the prayer page? It's the struggle. Prayer can be a struggle. Holding the Christian tension in balance, not losing faith, trusting in God's inscrutable will, we who have hardly any privy to it. Is it any wonder that I chose Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, the hour of his final trial, as the image for this page? Was there any prayer that involved more sweat, blood and tears? (No pun intended.) "Therefore ... let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God." (Heb 12:1-2)
Why did Jesus pray the same prayer twice? (Mt 26:44 So, leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time, saying the same words again.)
This probably says something about the nature of prayer. Unlike the way humans speak to each other, in which it's best to be succinct and not repeat oneself if avoidable, apparently prayer doesn't work this way. It reminds me of the parable of the persistent widow. So it makes me wonder why one must be persistent, why letting God know something just once isn't always good enough. Indeed, even telling him one time is superfluous, humanly-speaking, since he already knows everything we need and want. This is the physical way of looking at things, in which the hearer doesn't know what the speaker is going to say until he says it, and where words only need to be spoken once. This is because physical communication serves the purpose of making aware. There can be no awareness without it. But this must be a spiritual way of speaking, in which there is already awareness. But humanly-speaking, why speak except to make aware? But this must be a spiritual way of speaking. But what would that be? That's the real question, and much tougher to answer than this one.
After all this time, I just realized how unrealistic Jesus' prayer was -- Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." I could just as soon say, "Let there be world peace", but what kind of prayer is that? We all know that it is not in God's manifested will (for lack of a better term, [hidden will, will of decree]) that his will of precept/revealed will (Ezk 18, Lk 7:30) be done. So then what does John (I John 5:14) mean by this? What's the use of praying for something that we do not have the assurance of being realized?
Apparently, even if one prays in the Spirit, you may still end up asking for things that are outside the will of God. For example, when Jesus asked that the cup of his passion be taken away from him, though he knew that that wasn't God's will, and which we looked at in an earlier question on this same page. You can explore this aspect of the question in this earlier question.
On a more practical note, we can know that our prayers are never wasted (provided we're praying in the Spirit), as is indicated in Mt 10:13.
However, the point of this question wasn't to be practical. And in any case, knowing intellectually that my prayers won't be wasted has never really inspired me to pray with confidence, as we ought to. Therefore, the question remains. What does John really mean when he says that God will hear us as long as we pray according to his will? In a sense, this is pretty obvious, given that God's will is always done. We could interpret "his will" to mean his manifested will, and then there's no question. But that's not what I sense is behind his meaning. Really, he's only parroting back what Jesus taught him at the Last Supper, that whatever we ask in his name, will be given to us (Jn 14:13, 15:17). This is very strong language. Anybody who really believes these words will reach the heights of prayer. As for me, my questions and doubts and lack of understanding is getting in the way of this. To give another example of why this is, think of the High Priestly Prayer. Jesus prayed for the unity of his church, but sorrowfully, this hasn't happened, and what with the rise of Protestantism, the church has been splintering away exponentially ever since. So even Jesus didn't get what he wanted. And God the Father doesn't get what he wants either, because his will is that all be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth (I Tm 2:4), but Jesus said that few it is who find the narrow road.
If God desires that one who speaks in tongues also interpret what they say, why doesn't he just give both gifts at the start, rather than making the speaker of tongues pray for interpretation? (I Cor 14:13)
Hmmm. Interesting how the will of God works. On one hand we have his perfect will, where he wants the person to be able to interpret tongues. On the other we have his manifested will, in which he makes the person pray for his (God's) perfect will. But I bet that many things in life are like this. In fact, probably almost everything.
It's kind of hard for me to pray when really all I'm doing is asking God to undo what he did. For example, why should I pray that somebody be healed of cancer when I can see that it was God's will that that person get cancer in the first place?
Unless this person got cancer as punishment, in which case I can see how their suffering was meant to be temporary, but if not, you can go to the Good & Evil/Pain & Suffering page to see a discussion on this. Even if these other reasons apply (as discussed on the linked page), because I can't tell which of these reasons apply to a particular person's particular situation, it's hard to have faith and believe that I'm not wasting my time (praying for them) when this person may not be healed.
I was thinking about this question the other day, and I realized something that I think will help my ability (and hopefully also yours) to pray. Up to this point I had particularly had a hard time praying for people to get better (from an ailment), for the reason I state above. Now I see this division between prayers for healing and other types of prayer as somewhat arbitrary. In a way it makes sense, though, because you can see ailments as direct "acts of God", so praying for God to undo what he had previously willed didn't make much intellectual sense to me. Sure, emotionally it did, because you don't want people to suffer, but I'm not really an emotional person, so this failed to motivate me to pray for people in this way. (I'm not saying that this was because I failed to feel sorry for these people, but that intellectual objections always defeated my will.) Other kinds of intercessory prayer didn't present so much of a problem for me, because I saw the problems I prayed for as inevitable, something humanity or the church just had to work through. So I felt less like I was just asking God to undo whatever he had just done. I didn't see it as God "doing" these (bad) things. Of course, this still gave me plenty to pray for, but I still felt bad about not praying for people's health because that is, after all, a major problem that many people face, and having health problems is one of the worst problems a person can have.
So my realization was that this dichotomy of mine really was arbitrary, in that ultimately, everything can be attributed to God. So does this mean that I then treat non-health prayers the way I've treated prayers for health? No, I treat prayers for health the way I treat non-health prayers.
Furthermore, I think this new way of looking at things also bolsters my will to pray for all kinds of things, not just people's health, because it has further solidified my belief in the divine plan. Of course, I mean this in the sense of having faith in God's divine plan, not just intellectually believing that there is a divine plan, which is something I've believed in since I was a kid. The problem was always that though I believed (intellectually) in the divine plan, having faith that it was good, or that God cared, or that God was paying attention or hearing prayers, was a totally different matter. I also realized that this unbelief of mine was a matter of Christian maturity -- I would just have to wait until the day when my faith had grown and this would no longer be such an obstacle. In that sense, I can't say I've really "answered" the question, because faith is something you either have or don't. You could read this answer of mine and it might not do anything for you if the faith and maturity isn't there. That's not to say that this answer is completely useless. I'm attempting to chronicle my growth in faith (something I'm not sure of being successful at conveying), and thinking about the matter, and my realization, have really done a lot for me to sweep away the doubt and discouragement. Basically, a major component of the Christian life is to realize and see all the ways this world is so messed up, in fact, to see it more clearly than anyone else, and still be the most hopeful person. That's a really tough call, and it's not something (for most Christians) that just comes overnight, and the long wait for this kind of faith can be very frustrating and disheartening in itself.
On the flipside, sometimes I wonder if being logical and intellectual is actually a hindrance to the spiritual life. I had this one friend who appeared to never have problems praying for anything. I really admired her faith, how she never seemed to think any problem was too hard or hopeless. At the same time, I couldn't help but wonder if she was somewhat deluded, like floating around in some kind of ignorant bliss. While I think it's safe to say that she was unusually optimistic, it's also true that I've always been a pessimist. One could even argue that I'm misattributing my lack of faith to logicalness and intellectualness, when it's really just because of my outlook (which by the way, I don't think is due to my personality -- it's something I deliberately chose one day.) In any case, it seemed to me that this friend of mine was never bothered by the questions that bothered me. I don't think they ever occurred to her. Practically speaking, this seemed to be a good thing, but I still thought it was better to question and doubt than to never even give these issues any thought. I've never been one for blissful ignorance. I also suspected that the person who overcomes their doubt actually comes out having greater faith than the one who never thought things through. Simply put, I thought that if I ever overcame my doubt, I would be the one with an unconquerable faith. But who knows? Maybe her faith was already unconquerable. It's true that faith and reason work synergistically, so if one has faith, the questions and doubts seem to automatically get laid to rest, the mind and emotions calm and are replaced by peaceful confidence. So perhaps my friend had already reached this stage, although I still think she could be very anti-intellectual, something which true faith never is. Just because the mind and emotions calm down, doesn't mean that the brain deflates. Those are 2 different things which the faithless fail to make distinct, and in fact, is a distinction that many religious people fail to make. And insofar as they do that, they're actually faithless.
It's not by happenstance that this prayer page is under the page "Faith in God's Will", which in turn is under the page "(About) the Divine Plan/Faith & Free Will". I know there's others out there who would categorize things differently, perhaps putting prayer under something having to do with communion with God, but me, being intellectual, this is how I see things. I don't think it's a coincidence that the second sentence of the Our Father asks, "thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven", or that Jesus' prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane is mainly about his struggle to accept and do his Father's will. So prayer, faith and the divine plan, these things are inextricably linked in my mind.
Now on a less theological note, I'd like to add something that I'm actually passing on from my priest. Perhaps you've noticed that different priests like to revolve around certain themes in their homilies, and one of this priest's big themes is trusting in Jesus. As in trusting in Jesus and no one and nothing else. It was during one of these homilies that I think I finally got it. We all know that you're only supposed to trust in Jesus, that everyone and everything else is going to let you down. Perhaps I had to hear this message a certain number of times before I really internalized it -- I'm not sure why it took so long or why I saw finally saw it when I did, but it dawned on me that my lack of faith and motivation to pray was because I wasn't trusting in Jesus alone. As my priest said, "I don't trust the pope, or the bishops, or [our political leaders] ... I only trust in Jesus." I think it helped that I knew that this was a big theme of his. Before, if I was praying for someone, whether I knew them personally or not, a family member or corrupt politicians or evil oppressors, a nagging voice would tell me it was useless -- these people, most people in the world, don't want to change, it's not in their best selfish interest to change. Well, now I know that that's me trusting in these people. And if I was discouraged in praying for them, I was right to be discouraged, because humanity isn't something to spark much hope in your heart. So I realized that my trust was misplaced. Sure, I was praying to God, but my hope was in these other people, situations and places. God remains constant, immovable, and everything else swirls around him.
When Jesus speaks of prayer, he makes it seem like you have to beg to be heard. Why would this be if God listens to his children as a father? (Lk 18:2-5, Mt 7:9-11)
similar to the question about Jesus praying repeat prayers in the Garden of Gethsemane in Mt 26 on this page
What’s so important about fasting? I don’t see how it could help you out in your spiritual life. It just seems like a good way of abusing your body and acting like a crazy ascetic. (Mt 4:2, Dn 9:3) (see also Sacrifice & Mortification)
Just to let you know that I really gave this question a fair shot, I've done at least a little research on this, and I have never been convinced of the purpose or necessity of fasting. While I can't say I've researched this deeply, I feel that everything I've read or heard or been taught about it is all I'm ever going to read or hear about it. I feel like I need some deeper insight into this matter.
I guess what really throws me off is that fasting is one of those things that isn't valuable in itself. In other words, fasting alone doesn't make you a holier or more virtuous person. If you fast like crazy but don't practice the virtues, I say you're actually worse off, because now you're a hypocrite, whereas if you didn't fast, at least you might still be called an honest sinner. This is quite different from other religious practices, such as almsgiving or asking for forgiveness from people you've offended. These things are good in themselves. Even if you sin like crazy but still give alms, at least you've given alms and for that you're that much less of a sinner.
And just to clarify, the relationship I described immediately above is such that I think that the 2 (fasting and progress in holiness) can be completely independent of each other. In fact, I think this is often the case. Even God complains about this in Is 58:3-7. I wouldn't even be surprised if this was the norm. I contrast this with reading the bible or going to church. At least with reading the bible, while it may very well turn out to be a complete waste of time if you never remember what you've read by living it out, and while going to church might turn out the same as well, there's at least some correlation between these religious practices and virtuous living. After all, it's hard, if not impossible, to do the right thing if you've never learned what the right thing is. And we learn these things from the church and the word of God. I don't think I can say the same for fasting. Therefore I really doubt its usefulness to the spiritual life.
Furthermore, forgive me if I sound sacrilegious, but I can't help but think it's actually a hindrance to the spiritual life. I once read a study that said that self-control (something which fasting is supposed to build) is much like a muscle -- you have to use it or lose it, but at the same time, it can be exhausted, just like an overworked muscle. So if you're fasting and hungry, while folks like the desert fathers would say that this is helping you to resist sexual temptation, it seems to me that this might very well push you over the edge. You feel deprived and weak, and I think it makes it just that much easier to seek relief some way, whether it's breaking your fast or indulging in sins of the flesh. I know the desert fathers would counter and say, "Oh no. Like you said, it's like a muscle that you have to exercise," sure, this may very well be true, but it seems to me that the best way to practice self-control is to control something that really needs to be controlled, like your temper, your tongue or your illicit sexual urges. As St. Paul said, "These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh." (Col 2:23) Am I saying that St. Paul agrees with me? Yes and no. Yes, we agree that at least not all asceticism is holy, but no in that Paul himself fasted. In fact, it's the first thing he did after he met Jesus on the road to Damascus (Acts 9:9), a rather severe fast, too -- not even water for 3 days.
I know I haven't answered the question here, but at least now you have a better idea of where I'm coming from.
What made Joshua so confident that he would dare command the sun to stand still? Why would this be necessary, seeing that God had already told him that he would give their enemies into his hands? (Jos 10:12-14, 8) And couldn’t they have continued the next day? Was it really so cosmically urgent?
Maybe that's the very reason why Joshua had do much confidence -- because he knew the victory was already his. In fact, prayer really reaches its potential the more confident we are of what we're praying for, ironic is that may sound, humanly speaking, but as I mentioned earlier on this page, this is a spiritual, not a physical, way of communicating, and what makes sense in the physical sense doesn't hold true in the spiritual realm.
As for it being so cosmically urgent, he (Joshua) probably didn't want to give their enemies the chance during the night to run away, especially if he felt a complete victory would be so immanent.
But the question still stands, because the point of this question is really about how do we know (for ourselves) when we're asking rightly and when we're asking for too much? I don't think there's a bolder, more audacious prayer in the whole bible. However, I've discussed this before on this page, so I'll let you read my other attempt at an answer, but this example (of Joshua stopping the sun) just goes to show how bold and even ridiculous (humanly speaking) our prayers are allowed to get.
Why did God grant Jabez what he asked for when what he asked for were selfish requests? Also, life is full of pain, it's the way of this world, and we must pick up our crosses if we want to follow Jesus. I mean, it sounds like this guy just got it too easy. I'm sure Job must have prayed this same prayer! (I Chr 4:9-10)
I can see this issue from both sides -- what are we to want? The good life, or the hard life? It seems that either way you can be virtuous, although with the good life, I think you have to be very careful. However, I discuss this on another page (Grace vs Work -- please search for the question "Why must we suffer in order to gain higher virtue?"), so you can read about it there. (And just to warn you, it's an essay-long answer.) Nevertheless, I still don't see anything inherently wrong with wanting the good life. Maybe an easy life, yes, I don't think we should ever ask for that, but I don't think the good life and an easy life are the same thing, although I think there's a lot of overlap. Even Jesus asked that he might not suffer (although he didn't get what he wanted, but at least he tried). Asking for a peaceful life, again, I think that's something we're supposed to pray for, although Jesus promises otherwise. On the other hand, Jesus also said he would give us his peace, and that he has overcome the world. ("In this life you will have troubles, but take heart, I have overcome the world." Jn 16:33 in my own words) As I said earlier, prayer, faith and the divine plan (ie, God's will) are inextricably linked, so in order to know what to pray for we have to know what to have faith in, and in order to have faith we have to know what God's will is. So this question is all about -- what kind of life are we supposed to want? From what we've talked about, it should be obvious by now that it's not wrong, in fact, it's good, to ask for things like not having to suffer, for peace, etc, although I'm still skeptical about asking for prosperity (I specifically mention this because so many people have been sucked up by the prosperity gospel.)
But as I said before, I can see this question from both perspectives -- and I'm sure we Catholics can think of all sorts of saints who asked not for a good or pleasant or peaceful life, but for one of hardship, suffering and sacrifice. Me personally, I can't bring myself to pray for those things, but I can see the logic, as I discuss on the recommended page that I linked to earlier in this answer. I've mentioned the monks in that same answer on that page, and I'll bring them up again. These are folks who go out of their way to live an austere life. I myself don't think I could bring myself to voluntarily adopt that kind of lifestyle, but I can see how it makes sense -- it's like joining the spiritual Olympics.
Does it all come down to different strokes for different folks? Furthermore, why does God give one person an easy life (I don't mean a life of ease here, but easy in the sense that it's easy to handle), and another person a life of torment? Even among saints this is true. There was Job, who probably had it the worst of any of them, and then you have saints like Brother Lawrence (although he's never been canonized; famous for writing The Practice of the Presence of God, a Christian classic), who appears to have lived a life of rare tranquility, simplicity and free of cares. This is different from saying he lived in luxurious ease, which he certainly didn't, but in his own way he lived a life that many would envy for its easiness. That didn't stop him from reaching the heights of virtue, but for some, maybe it would. Maybe some people can "handle" an easy, cushy life, and some people can't. If they get a cushy life, they start to slide into sin. But I think I can safely draw the conclusion that a simple easy life is far more conducive to virtue than a prosperous easy life. And if you're living in luxury, I would say that by that very fact you've already forsaken virtue.
God is more gracious than Moses, so why was Moses the one pleading for mercy for the people? (Ex 32:7-14 is just one example of this)
Strange as this might sound, I think this goes to show just how important prayer is, and how necessary. God was willing to forgive the Israelites, but if no one had begged for forgiveness, would he have given it? Good question. We have instances where people went wrong, not caring at all to repent, and God showed up and set them straight. First and foremost we have the example of the crucifixion ("while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Rm 5:8), there was David when he sinned with Bathsheba, God sought him out first, but didn't forgive him until he reprimanded him and he confessed. There were other cases in the history of the Israelites where the people backslid, got into trouble with their enemies, and then cried out to God for mercy, and he delivered them, but only after they promised to forsake their idols. There's even been cases where God saved the people even when they didn't deserve it, but at least he told them they didn't deserve it (like when God saved King Ahab and Samaria [I Kgs 20:13-28], or God's parable about the 3 sisters Jerusalem, Sodom and Samaria [Ezk 16, esp vv 61-63).
So going back, would God have forgiven the Israelites if Moses hadn't been there to intercede on their behalf? Who knows? All we know for sure is that Moses was the tool God used to bring mercy to the people. I can't help but speculate that this is actually the whole point of prayer -- not that God really needs our prayers to work in history, but to give us a chance to do good. Think about the time Abraham interceded (or tried to intercede) for the 5 cities of the plain (his intercession proved useless in the end). (Gn 18:16-23) Especially since his intercession turned out to be for nought, I think it makes it easier to see what God's intention was in bringing up the issue with Abraham in the first place. Of course I can only speculate, but it sure looks like God wanted to reward Abraham for interceding for the wicked cities, or at least this is partially the reason (I can think of many others). This is because God can do whatever he wants, without our help. He can have mercy if he wants, he can punish if he wants. His plan goes on with or without us. That he includes us is only for our own benefit. So if you pray for something, and it happens, God could have done that good thing without you or your prayer. But he kindly allows us to pray for things in his divine plan and will, so that we also get the credit. At the same time, I think that although God isn't limited by our prayers, I think he makes it so that he is, in the sense that if Moses hadn't interceded, there'd be an alternate history. But God has his will always, and so he put it in Moses' heart to intercede for the faithless Israelites. I know this sounds very confusing and complicated, and I'm not pretending that I fully understand it. I can only point it out and say it's true, just like we can only point to gravity and say it's true, without understanding exactly how it works.
Mt 14:28-29 Wouldn't some consider this testing God? And why would Jesus comply with Peter's wish to walk out to him on the water? Where did Peter get the idea to do this?
Why did Mary ask Jesus to do something about the wine? Not only that, it sounds like she actually went around behind his back and pretty much forced him to do a miracle. He says it's not his time, she just ignores him and tells the servants to expect instructions from him. (Jn 2:1-5, 1:47-50)
Why did Satan even bother tempting Jesus, since he knew that Jesus could not sin, having a perfect nature? (Mt 4:1-11) And when would this "opportune time" be? (Lk 4:13) How could any time be opportune if you're dealing with someone who can't sin? You may think this question doesn't belong in this category, but if you think about it, the temptation of Jesus is the opposite of prayer. That is, why do we pray when God's will will be done anyway? Likewise, why did Satan tempt Jesus if nothing would come of it? Both are seemingly futile actions, unless ... something else is going on here between the spiritual and physical. That is, the physical is not redundant, but has some necessary role to play in the drama of this present age.
OK, so I realize that last sentence is really cryptic. Let me explain, and then I'll see if I'm inspired to attempt an answer.
The physical here means Jesus going through the temptation. It's easy to see it as physical because it's hollow, and by that I mean there's seemingly no purpose to it, since Jesus can't fall. In this way, it looks like Jesus is just going through the motions. So since there's (seemingly) no meaning, it lacks a spiritual component. Therefore we have to look for the spiritual component elsewhere. This probably requires looking at a much bigger picture. Actually, it's kind of like when Jesus got baptized. John the Baptist protested, saying it made no sense. Perhaps Jesus agreed, but he also said that it was "appropriate". Not sure what that means. He kind of made it sound like he agreed with John in that it wasn't necessary, but that it should be done, not had to be done. That's how I perceive it.
So was Jesus tempted so that it could be claimed, as in Hebrews, that "he was tested in all things, yet without sin"? (Heb 4:15, in my own words) And this, so that he could be a compassionate high priest, "able to sympathize with our weaknesses"? (same verse, in my own words) So then once again, Satan unwittingly cooperated in the divine plan, to God's glory? This is surely a valid interpretation. Whether it's the only reason is a different matter.
How are things made holy through prayer? (I Tm 4:5)
Verse Observations: Mt 24:20, Mk 13:18, 14:35-36, II Tm 2:25
Why does God say he isn’t like man and doesn’t change his mind, when sometimes he does if you can convince him to? (I Sm 15:29, Gn 18:23-32, Ex 32:10-14)
How did Mary know to ask Jesus for a miracle? And why making wine of all things? Why not a healing, something more necessary? Why did she insist on it even though he said it wasn't his time? And if it WASN'T his time, why did he do it?
Why would God, being omniscient, go down to see if the report of Sodom and Gomorrah was true? (Gn 18:21) Why did he say he was going to check out the city, when he had actually been intending to destroy it all along? (Gn 18:21-32) Furthermore, Abraham pleaded with God concerning the cities as if God truly was going to check out the cities, which we can forgive him for, because he was thinking in a human way, but the funny thing is is that God actually went along with it. God should have just told him from the beginning "Abraham, I already know that there's less than 10 righteous people there, so don't bother with this pleading."
What's the point of praying if 1) God already knows my thoughts and feelings, and 2) God has already planned out all things according to his will and he will do as he sees best? (I Thes 5:17, Ps 139:1-4, II Kgs 19:21-25, Is 14:24, 26-27, 22:8-11, Lam 3:37, Mt 6:10, Acts 2:23, 4:27-28)
Why would Daniel pray for the fulfillment of a prophecy that he already knew had to happen? (Dn 9:1-19)
Well, if we get nothing else from this, it's that you have to pray for things that are already certainly going to happen. For example, at the end of Revelation, John writes, "Our Lord come!" even though we all know for sure that that's going to happen. Not that there's some things that are certainly going to happen and other "lesser" events that may not. We know that everything that happens is in the divine plan, and everything in that plan is equally surely going to happen. So we see we have to pray for everything, big or small. Of course, this isn't an attempt to explain why.
Why would Jesus pray that he not be crucified if he already knew the will of the Lord and his divine plan ordained from the beginning? And wouldn’t the prophecies not be fulfilled (as he himself mentioned)? Then he would be causing God the Father (and himself) to be a liar. (Mt 26:39, 53-54) So my big question is, why would Jesus waste his breath?
I'd also like to note that it's strange that Jesus says, "if possible". There's one other place where he uses that phrase -- when he talks about the devil tricking the elect "if possible" at the end of the age. (Mt 24:24)
This is so weird -- what does it mean that God could take away "this cup" and yet he didn't? And if he could not, what does that mean? And why would Jesus say, "But not my will, but yours"? What was the point of this if he already knew the Father's will? This is especially strange since Jesus said, "Father, all things are possible for you." (Mk 14:36) Then what's the point of praying?
Not that this is going to answer the question, at least not directly, but it reminds me of Dr. Pangloss's maxim "in this best of all possible worlds". Although everyone scoffs at the thought, I mean, how could this possibly be the best of all possible worlds ... what if it is, in a way? Obviously, in absolute terms it's not, since there's heaven, which is definitely the best of all possible worlds, but what if there's something about this world, something inherent not even to this universe, but to any created, and might I add physical universe, that would make it always fall short of being the best (I'm obviously excluding the New Heavens and Earth). While we're on it, perhaps I've said this already elsewhere, but I'm actually kind of shocked that this world isn't worse than it is. Why not have a literal hell on earth at all times, not just say, in Communist Russia or China?
So what are these things that would make this world inherently doomed to be fallen? For one, our free will. Even this hindrance to a perfect world couldn't be avoided in heaven. I'm talking about how the rebellious angels had to be kicked out of heaven. It's like there was no way of preventing it, since they too have free will. The only thing that could be done was to kick them out after the fact.
Well, it turns out that I think there's an even deeper reason for all the sin, both in heaven on earth. Why couldn't it be that free will doesn't have to be so dangerous? Why doesn't every created being choose good over evil? So this made me think -- is this really true? The angels -- did any of the good angels ever sin? I quickly tried to do a little research on this, and found the following article: The Catholic Teachings on the Angels -- Part 5: Why the Angels Remain Loyal to God. While I can't be absolutely sure that this is orthodox or even commonly held teaching, it sure rings true (ie, corroborates everything else I know about theology, at least, the pertinent parts of the article), so I did no further research into the matter. What really caught my attention is 2 things: 1)that the obedience or rebellion of the angels is parallel to our (humans) own final choice at death for or against God, whether you die in a state of grace or mortal sin. It had always seemed to me that this angelic obedience/rebellion is final and irrevocable, but seeing that this is akin to our own human, what I'll call "ultimate" choice, it made more sense why fallen angels can't repent, and why loyal angels can never fall (also akin to the state of the saints in heaven, who have been forever perfected). So this sounds right to me and I think it sheds a lot of light on the question at hand. (This is talked about under the section Why the Loyal Angels Now Cannot Sin.) 2)This explains why there can no longer be second rebellion of angels -- sides have been chosen and this will be the state of things for all eternity. As for the other speculations about the fall of the angels having to do with the rejection of the Incarnation, the salvation of mankind, or the revelation of the Trinity, I don't know. As for the Incarnation, it sounds plausible, but that doesn't mean that that's what really happened. Not that this is really pertinent to what we're talking about, but I thought you'd be interested in my other thoughts on the article.
Anyhow, this actually dramatically complicates the picture. (By the way, if you'd like to read more of my thoughts on this issue [ie, the fall of the angels and how this relates to the fall of man], you can check out the page (About) the Divine Plan/Fate & Free Will. It's in the question that starts off with Eccl 7:14.) It complicates it because we have to ask, why is there this difference between angels and humans, that the human race as a whole has fallen, but (at least according to the interpretation by tradition) 2/3 of the angels didn't? It's true that the "angelic race" isn't completely incorrupt, and in that sense we've both fallen, but that's quite a difference -- 1/3 vs the whole lot. This sprouts up even more questions -- why 1/3? Why not none? Why couldn't humans be more like the angels? Whereas at least 2/3 of the angels made it to eternal beatitude, Jesus sure makes it sound like only 1% of humans are going to make it (about the wide and narrow roads, and about it being harder for a rich man to enter heaven than for a camel to go through the eye of a needle).
Now going back to my "even deeper reason" that I mentioned above, keeping in mind all the complications I brought up above, at least as far as humans go (this wouldn't apply to angels, as we've seen, and this is why I can't universalize my supposition, thus, the complication) at least as far as humans go, and this seems part and parcel with being a created, and therefore limited being, it seems that a creature will always love itself more than anything else. It seems like the default. In a way it makes sense. The creature only lives "through its own being". This makes it biased towards its own existence. I think this is why only God can love with a pure and total love (ie, to love as much as is possible). Although creatures who choose God can love too, it will never match his love, and I think this is on top of the fact that no creature is eternal or boundless like God.
So now going back to this "best of all possible worlds", while I don't think there's any way that I can defend my thoughts on this definitively, I wonder if this is in fact the best of all possible worlds. I mean, the best God could do given restrictions inherent to creating creatures that have free will and that are limited. Furthermore, I can't help but think that the role of sin, pain and suffering in this age is actually essential, to the point that it's actually the point of creation. Strong words, I know, but if you believe, as I do, that God does nothing without a reason, a good reason, then it follows that there is indeed a point to all the outrage and suffering. So you can come at this from 2 different angles. There's the "negative" side, which is that God did the best he could given the circumstances (free will and creaturely limitations) -- in this sense God merely "tolerates" evil in order to gain a greater good (more creatures that love him and each other). So I call this the "negative" side because it "couldn't be helped", it was inevitable. Then there's the positive side, where God not only tolerates evil, but wills it, not in the sense that he enjoys or supports evil, but in the sense that in some mysterious way it plays a vital role in this age, that it's meaningful to live in an imperfect world, even to be imperfect, and to suffer. He even gets personally involved, becoming one of us, living life with us, suffering (unjustly) with us and because of us. God doing things from the negative reason is OK, but it's not victorious. It's making do. This doesn't match my conception of God. Not that it's my right to conceive of God how I want, but to me, God is the one in charge, the one who knows exactly what he's doing, who takes action and sees to it. And I think the scope of his imagination is so wide that he was willing to take on even evil, and do something miraculous and heretofore inconceivable. As it says in I Cor -- "... no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him ..." (2:9). Or as it says in Eph "he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come. And he put all things under his feet and gave him as head over all things ... the fullness of him who fills all in all." (1:20-23) So we see that all things will be subsumed and made subservient to him, even when we had given up hope and were on the verge of despair.
So now I think we're ready to really address the question. -- What does it mean that God could take away "this cup" and yet he didn't? From what we've discussed, God being all-powerful could take away the cup, and yet he didn't, because in the inscrutable mind of God, that was what he wanted. That's what he thought would be best, I think for all the reasons we discussed above. "But not my will, but yours." Again, the "Christian tension". The tension between the God who tolerates, who finds a way, and the God who is victorious and unconquered. God who suffers, really suffers, who finds suffering unpleasant, just as we all do, because that's what suffering is, and the God who finds meaning in suffering.
Now what does this have to do with prayer, since this is the prayer page? It's the struggle. Prayer can be a struggle. Holding the Christian tension in balance, not losing faith, trusting in God's inscrutable will, we who have hardly any privy to it. Is it any wonder that I chose Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, the hour of his final trial, as the image for this page? Was there any prayer that involved more sweat, blood and tears? (No pun intended.) "Therefore ... let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God." (Heb 12:1-2)
Why did Jesus pray the same prayer twice? (Mt 26:44 So, leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time, saying the same words again.)
This probably says something about the nature of prayer. Unlike the way humans speak to each other, in which it's best to be succinct and not repeat oneself if avoidable, apparently prayer doesn't work this way. It reminds me of the parable of the persistent widow. So it makes me wonder why one must be persistent, why letting God know something just once isn't always good enough. Indeed, even telling him one time is superfluous, humanly-speaking, since he already knows everything we need and want. This is the physical way of looking at things, in which the hearer doesn't know what the speaker is going to say until he says it, and where words only need to be spoken once. This is because physical communication serves the purpose of making aware. There can be no awareness without it. But this must be a spiritual way of speaking, in which there is already awareness. But humanly-speaking, why speak except to make aware? But this must be a spiritual way of speaking. But what would that be? That's the real question, and much tougher to answer than this one.
After all this time, I just realized how unrealistic Jesus' prayer was -- Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." I could just as soon say, "Let there be world peace", but what kind of prayer is that? We all know that it is not in God's manifested will (for lack of a better term, [hidden will, will of decree]) that his will of precept/revealed will (Ezk 18, Lk 7:30) be done. So then what does John (I John 5:14) mean by this? What's the use of praying for something that we do not have the assurance of being realized?
Apparently, even if one prays in the Spirit, you may still end up asking for things that are outside the will of God. For example, when Jesus asked that the cup of his passion be taken away from him, though he knew that that wasn't God's will, and which we looked at in an earlier question on this same page. You can explore this aspect of the question in this earlier question.
On a more practical note, we can know that our prayers are never wasted (provided we're praying in the Spirit), as is indicated in Mt 10:13.
However, the point of this question wasn't to be practical. And in any case, knowing intellectually that my prayers won't be wasted has never really inspired me to pray with confidence, as we ought to. Therefore, the question remains. What does John really mean when he says that God will hear us as long as we pray according to his will? In a sense, this is pretty obvious, given that God's will is always done. We could interpret "his will" to mean his manifested will, and then there's no question. But that's not what I sense is behind his meaning. Really, he's only parroting back what Jesus taught him at the Last Supper, that whatever we ask in his name, will be given to us (Jn 14:13, 15:17). This is very strong language. Anybody who really believes these words will reach the heights of prayer. As for me, my questions and doubts and lack of understanding is getting in the way of this. To give another example of why this is, think of the High Priestly Prayer. Jesus prayed for the unity of his church, but sorrowfully, this hasn't happened, and what with the rise of Protestantism, the church has been splintering away exponentially ever since. So even Jesus didn't get what he wanted. And God the Father doesn't get what he wants either, because his will is that all be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth (I Tm 2:4), but Jesus said that few it is who find the narrow road.
If God desires that one who speaks in tongues also interpret what they say, why doesn't he just give both gifts at the start, rather than making the speaker of tongues pray for interpretation? (I Cor 14:13)
Hmmm. Interesting how the will of God works. On one hand we have his perfect will, where he wants the person to be able to interpret tongues. On the other we have his manifested will, in which he makes the person pray for his (God's) perfect will. But I bet that many things in life are like this. In fact, probably almost everything.
It's kind of hard for me to pray when really all I'm doing is asking God to undo what he did. For example, why should I pray that somebody be healed of cancer when I can see that it was God's will that that person get cancer in the first place?
Unless this person got cancer as punishment, in which case I can see how their suffering was meant to be temporary, but if not, you can go to the Good & Evil/Pain & Suffering page to see a discussion on this. Even if these other reasons apply (as discussed on the linked page), because I can't tell which of these reasons apply to a particular person's particular situation, it's hard to have faith and believe that I'm not wasting my time (praying for them) when this person may not be healed.
I was thinking about this question the other day, and I realized something that I think will help my ability (and hopefully also yours) to pray. Up to this point I had particularly had a hard time praying for people to get better (from an ailment), for the reason I state above. Now I see this division between prayers for healing and other types of prayer as somewhat arbitrary. In a way it makes sense, though, because you can see ailments as direct "acts of God", so praying for God to undo what he had previously willed didn't make much intellectual sense to me. Sure, emotionally it did, because you don't want people to suffer, but I'm not really an emotional person, so this failed to motivate me to pray for people in this way. (I'm not saying that this was because I failed to feel sorry for these people, but that intellectual objections always defeated my will.) Other kinds of intercessory prayer didn't present so much of a problem for me, because I saw the problems I prayed for as inevitable, something humanity or the church just had to work through. So I felt less like I was just asking God to undo whatever he had just done. I didn't see it as God "doing" these (bad) things. Of course, this still gave me plenty to pray for, but I still felt bad about not praying for people's health because that is, after all, a major problem that many people face, and having health problems is one of the worst problems a person can have.
So my realization was that this dichotomy of mine really was arbitrary, in that ultimately, everything can be attributed to God. So does this mean that I then treat non-health prayers the way I've treated prayers for health? No, I treat prayers for health the way I treat non-health prayers.
Furthermore, I think this new way of looking at things also bolsters my will to pray for all kinds of things, not just people's health, because it has further solidified my belief in the divine plan. Of course, I mean this in the sense of having faith in God's divine plan, not just intellectually believing that there is a divine plan, which is something I've believed in since I was a kid. The problem was always that though I believed (intellectually) in the divine plan, having faith that it was good, or that God cared, or that God was paying attention or hearing prayers, was a totally different matter. I also realized that this unbelief of mine was a matter of Christian maturity -- I would just have to wait until the day when my faith had grown and this would no longer be such an obstacle. In that sense, I can't say I've really "answered" the question, because faith is something you either have or don't. You could read this answer of mine and it might not do anything for you if the faith and maturity isn't there. That's not to say that this answer is completely useless. I'm attempting to chronicle my growth in faith (something I'm not sure of being successful at conveying), and thinking about the matter, and my realization, have really done a lot for me to sweep away the doubt and discouragement. Basically, a major component of the Christian life is to realize and see all the ways this world is so messed up, in fact, to see it more clearly than anyone else, and still be the most hopeful person. That's a really tough call, and it's not something (for most Christians) that just comes overnight, and the long wait for this kind of faith can be very frustrating and disheartening in itself.
On the flipside, sometimes I wonder if being logical and intellectual is actually a hindrance to the spiritual life. I had this one friend who appeared to never have problems praying for anything. I really admired her faith, how she never seemed to think any problem was too hard or hopeless. At the same time, I couldn't help but wonder if she was somewhat deluded, like floating around in some kind of ignorant bliss. While I think it's safe to say that she was unusually optimistic, it's also true that I've always been a pessimist. One could even argue that I'm misattributing my lack of faith to logicalness and intellectualness, when it's really just because of my outlook (which by the way, I don't think is due to my personality -- it's something I deliberately chose one day.) In any case, it seemed to me that this friend of mine was never bothered by the questions that bothered me. I don't think they ever occurred to her. Practically speaking, this seemed to be a good thing, but I still thought it was better to question and doubt than to never even give these issues any thought. I've never been one for blissful ignorance. I also suspected that the person who overcomes their doubt actually comes out having greater faith than the one who never thought things through. Simply put, I thought that if I ever overcame my doubt, I would be the one with an unconquerable faith. But who knows? Maybe her faith was already unconquerable. It's true that faith and reason work synergistically, so if one has faith, the questions and doubts seem to automatically get laid to rest, the mind and emotions calm and are replaced by peaceful confidence. So perhaps my friend had already reached this stage, although I still think she could be very anti-intellectual, something which true faith never is. Just because the mind and emotions calm down, doesn't mean that the brain deflates. Those are 2 different things which the faithless fail to make distinct, and in fact, is a distinction that many religious people fail to make. And insofar as they do that, they're actually faithless.
It's not by happenstance that this prayer page is under the page "Faith in God's Will", which in turn is under the page "(About) the Divine Plan/Faith & Free Will". I know there's others out there who would categorize things differently, perhaps putting prayer under something having to do with communion with God, but me, being intellectual, this is how I see things. I don't think it's a coincidence that the second sentence of the Our Father asks, "thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven", or that Jesus' prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane is mainly about his struggle to accept and do his Father's will. So prayer, faith and the divine plan, these things are inextricably linked in my mind.
Now on a less theological note, I'd like to add something that I'm actually passing on from my priest. Perhaps you've noticed that different priests like to revolve around certain themes in their homilies, and one of this priest's big themes is trusting in Jesus. As in trusting in Jesus and no one and nothing else. It was during one of these homilies that I think I finally got it. We all know that you're only supposed to trust in Jesus, that everyone and everything else is going to let you down. Perhaps I had to hear this message a certain number of times before I really internalized it -- I'm not sure why it took so long or why I saw finally saw it when I did, but it dawned on me that my lack of faith and motivation to pray was because I wasn't trusting in Jesus alone. As my priest said, "I don't trust the pope, or the bishops, or [our political leaders] ... I only trust in Jesus." I think it helped that I knew that this was a big theme of his. Before, if I was praying for someone, whether I knew them personally or not, a family member or corrupt politicians or evil oppressors, a nagging voice would tell me it was useless -- these people, most people in the world, don't want to change, it's not in their best selfish interest to change. Well, now I know that that's me trusting in these people. And if I was discouraged in praying for them, I was right to be discouraged, because humanity isn't something to spark much hope in your heart. So I realized that my trust was misplaced. Sure, I was praying to God, but my hope was in these other people, situations and places. God remains constant, immovable, and everything else swirls around him.
When Jesus speaks of prayer, he makes it seem like you have to beg to be heard. Why would this be if God listens to his children as a father? (Lk 18:2-5, Mt 7:9-11)
similar to the question about Jesus praying repeat prayers in the Garden of Gethsemane in Mt 26 on this page
What’s so important about fasting? I don’t see how it could help you out in your spiritual life. It just seems like a good way of abusing your body and acting like a crazy ascetic. (Mt 4:2, Dn 9:3) (see also Sacrifice & Mortification)
Just to let you know that I really gave this question a fair shot, I've done at least a little research on this, and I have never been convinced of the purpose or necessity of fasting. While I can't say I've researched this deeply, I feel that everything I've read or heard or been taught about it is all I'm ever going to read or hear about it. I feel like I need some deeper insight into this matter.
I guess what really throws me off is that fasting is one of those things that isn't valuable in itself. In other words, fasting alone doesn't make you a holier or more virtuous person. If you fast like crazy but don't practice the virtues, I say you're actually worse off, because now you're a hypocrite, whereas if you didn't fast, at least you might still be called an honest sinner. This is quite different from other religious practices, such as almsgiving or asking for forgiveness from people you've offended. These things are good in themselves. Even if you sin like crazy but still give alms, at least you've given alms and for that you're that much less of a sinner.
And just to clarify, the relationship I described immediately above is such that I think that the 2 (fasting and progress in holiness) can be completely independent of each other. In fact, I think this is often the case. Even God complains about this in Is 58:3-7. I wouldn't even be surprised if this was the norm. I contrast this with reading the bible or going to church. At least with reading the bible, while it may very well turn out to be a complete waste of time if you never remember what you've read by living it out, and while going to church might turn out the same as well, there's at least some correlation between these religious practices and virtuous living. After all, it's hard, if not impossible, to do the right thing if you've never learned what the right thing is. And we learn these things from the church and the word of God. I don't think I can say the same for fasting. Therefore I really doubt its usefulness to the spiritual life.
Furthermore, forgive me if I sound sacrilegious, but I can't help but think it's actually a hindrance to the spiritual life. I once read a study that said that self-control (something which fasting is supposed to build) is much like a muscle -- you have to use it or lose it, but at the same time, it can be exhausted, just like an overworked muscle. So if you're fasting and hungry, while folks like the desert fathers would say that this is helping you to resist sexual temptation, it seems to me that this might very well push you over the edge. You feel deprived and weak, and I think it makes it just that much easier to seek relief some way, whether it's breaking your fast or indulging in sins of the flesh. I know the desert fathers would counter and say, "Oh no. Like you said, it's like a muscle that you have to exercise," sure, this may very well be true, but it seems to me that the best way to practice self-control is to control something that really needs to be controlled, like your temper, your tongue or your illicit sexual urges. As St. Paul said, "These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self-made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh." (Col 2:23) Am I saying that St. Paul agrees with me? Yes and no. Yes, we agree that at least not all asceticism is holy, but no in that Paul himself fasted. In fact, it's the first thing he did after he met Jesus on the road to Damascus (Acts 9:9), a rather severe fast, too -- not even water for 3 days.
I know I haven't answered the question here, but at least now you have a better idea of where I'm coming from.
What made Joshua so confident that he would dare command the sun to stand still? Why would this be necessary, seeing that God had already told him that he would give their enemies into his hands? (Jos 10:12-14, 8) And couldn’t they have continued the next day? Was it really so cosmically urgent?
Maybe that's the very reason why Joshua had do much confidence -- because he knew the victory was already his. In fact, prayer really reaches its potential the more confident we are of what we're praying for, ironic is that may sound, humanly speaking, but as I mentioned earlier on this page, this is a spiritual, not a physical, way of communicating, and what makes sense in the physical sense doesn't hold true in the spiritual realm.
As for it being so cosmically urgent, he (Joshua) probably didn't want to give their enemies the chance during the night to run away, especially if he felt a complete victory would be so immanent.
But the question still stands, because the point of this question is really about how do we know (for ourselves) when we're asking rightly and when we're asking for too much? I don't think there's a bolder, more audacious prayer in the whole bible. However, I've discussed this before on this page, so I'll let you read my other attempt at an answer, but this example (of Joshua stopping the sun) just goes to show how bold and even ridiculous (humanly speaking) our prayers are allowed to get.
Why did God grant Jabez what he asked for when what he asked for were selfish requests? Also, life is full of pain, it's the way of this world, and we must pick up our crosses if we want to follow Jesus. I mean, it sounds like this guy just got it too easy. I'm sure Job must have prayed this same prayer! (I Chr 4:9-10)
I can see this issue from both sides -- what are we to want? The good life, or the hard life? It seems that either way you can be virtuous, although with the good life, I think you have to be very careful. However, I discuss this on another page (Grace vs Work -- please search for the question "Why must we suffer in order to gain higher virtue?"), so you can read about it there. (And just to warn you, it's an essay-long answer.) Nevertheless, I still don't see anything inherently wrong with wanting the good life. Maybe an easy life, yes, I don't think we should ever ask for that, but I don't think the good life and an easy life are the same thing, although I think there's a lot of overlap. Even Jesus asked that he might not suffer (although he didn't get what he wanted, but at least he tried). Asking for a peaceful life, again, I think that's something we're supposed to pray for, although Jesus promises otherwise. On the other hand, Jesus also said he would give us his peace, and that he has overcome the world. ("In this life you will have troubles, but take heart, I have overcome the world." Jn 16:33 in my own words) As I said earlier, prayer, faith and the divine plan (ie, God's will) are inextricably linked, so in order to know what to pray for we have to know what to have faith in, and in order to have faith we have to know what God's will is. So this question is all about -- what kind of life are we supposed to want? From what we've talked about, it should be obvious by now that it's not wrong, in fact, it's good, to ask for things like not having to suffer, for peace, etc, although I'm still skeptical about asking for prosperity (I specifically mention this because so many people have been sucked up by the prosperity gospel.)
But as I said before, I can see this question from both perspectives -- and I'm sure we Catholics can think of all sorts of saints who asked not for a good or pleasant or peaceful life, but for one of hardship, suffering and sacrifice. Me personally, I can't bring myself to pray for those things, but I can see the logic, as I discuss on the recommended page that I linked to earlier in this answer. I've mentioned the monks in that same answer on that page, and I'll bring them up again. These are folks who go out of their way to live an austere life. I myself don't think I could bring myself to voluntarily adopt that kind of lifestyle, but I can see how it makes sense -- it's like joining the spiritual Olympics.
Does it all come down to different strokes for different folks? Furthermore, why does God give one person an easy life (I don't mean a life of ease here, but easy in the sense that it's easy to handle), and another person a life of torment? Even among saints this is true. There was Job, who probably had it the worst of any of them, and then you have saints like Brother Lawrence (although he's never been canonized; famous for writing The Practice of the Presence of God, a Christian classic), who appears to have lived a life of rare tranquility, simplicity and free of cares. This is different from saying he lived in luxurious ease, which he certainly didn't, but in his own way he lived a life that many would envy for its easiness. That didn't stop him from reaching the heights of virtue, but for some, maybe it would. Maybe some people can "handle" an easy, cushy life, and some people can't. If they get a cushy life, they start to slide into sin. But I think I can safely draw the conclusion that a simple easy life is far more conducive to virtue than a prosperous easy life. And if you're living in luxury, I would say that by that very fact you've already forsaken virtue.
God is more gracious than Moses, so why was Moses the one pleading for mercy for the people? (Ex 32:7-14 is just one example of this)
Strange as this might sound, I think this goes to show just how important prayer is, and how necessary. God was willing to forgive the Israelites, but if no one had begged for forgiveness, would he have given it? Good question. We have instances where people went wrong, not caring at all to repent, and God showed up and set them straight. First and foremost we have the example of the crucifixion ("while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Rm 5:8), there was David when he sinned with Bathsheba, God sought him out first, but didn't forgive him until he reprimanded him and he confessed. There were other cases in the history of the Israelites where the people backslid, got into trouble with their enemies, and then cried out to God for mercy, and he delivered them, but only after they promised to forsake their idols. There's even been cases where God saved the people even when they didn't deserve it, but at least he told them they didn't deserve it (like when God saved King Ahab and Samaria [I Kgs 20:13-28], or God's parable about the 3 sisters Jerusalem, Sodom and Samaria [Ezk 16, esp vv 61-63).
So going back, would God have forgiven the Israelites if Moses hadn't been there to intercede on their behalf? Who knows? All we know for sure is that Moses was the tool God used to bring mercy to the people. I can't help but speculate that this is actually the whole point of prayer -- not that God really needs our prayers to work in history, but to give us a chance to do good. Think about the time Abraham interceded (or tried to intercede) for the 5 cities of the plain (his intercession proved useless in the end). (Gn 18:16-23) Especially since his intercession turned out to be for nought, I think it makes it easier to see what God's intention was in bringing up the issue with Abraham in the first place. Of course I can only speculate, but it sure looks like God wanted to reward Abraham for interceding for the wicked cities, or at least this is partially the reason (I can think of many others). This is because God can do whatever he wants, without our help. He can have mercy if he wants, he can punish if he wants. His plan goes on with or without us. That he includes us is only for our own benefit. So if you pray for something, and it happens, God could have done that good thing without you or your prayer. But he kindly allows us to pray for things in his divine plan and will, so that we also get the credit. At the same time, I think that although God isn't limited by our prayers, I think he makes it so that he is, in the sense that if Moses hadn't interceded, there'd be an alternate history. But God has his will always, and so he put it in Moses' heart to intercede for the faithless Israelites. I know this sounds very confusing and complicated, and I'm not pretending that I fully understand it. I can only point it out and say it's true, just like we can only point to gravity and say it's true, without understanding exactly how it works.
Mt 14:28-29 Wouldn't some consider this testing God? And why would Jesus comply with Peter's wish to walk out to him on the water? Where did Peter get the idea to do this?
Why did Mary ask Jesus to do something about the wine? Not only that, it sounds like she actually went around behind his back and pretty much forced him to do a miracle. He says it's not his time, she just ignores him and tells the servants to expect instructions from him. (Jn 2:1-5, 1:47-50)
Why did Satan even bother tempting Jesus, since he knew that Jesus could not sin, having a perfect nature? (Mt 4:1-11) And when would this "opportune time" be? (Lk 4:13) How could any time be opportune if you're dealing with someone who can't sin? You may think this question doesn't belong in this category, but if you think about it, the temptation of Jesus is the opposite of prayer. That is, why do we pray when God's will will be done anyway? Likewise, why did Satan tempt Jesus if nothing would come of it? Both are seemingly futile actions, unless ... something else is going on here between the spiritual and physical. That is, the physical is not redundant, but has some necessary role to play in the drama of this present age.
OK, so I realize that last sentence is really cryptic. Let me explain, and then I'll see if I'm inspired to attempt an answer.
The physical here means Jesus going through the temptation. It's easy to see it as physical because it's hollow, and by that I mean there's seemingly no purpose to it, since Jesus can't fall. In this way, it looks like Jesus is just going through the motions. So since there's (seemingly) no meaning, it lacks a spiritual component. Therefore we have to look for the spiritual component elsewhere. This probably requires looking at a much bigger picture. Actually, it's kind of like when Jesus got baptized. John the Baptist protested, saying it made no sense. Perhaps Jesus agreed, but he also said that it was "appropriate". Not sure what that means. He kind of made it sound like he agreed with John in that it wasn't necessary, but that it should be done, not had to be done. That's how I perceive it.
So was Jesus tempted so that it could be claimed, as in Hebrews, that "he was tested in all things, yet without sin"? (Heb 4:15, in my own words) And this, so that he could be a compassionate high priest, "able to sympathize with our weaknesses"? (same verse, in my own words) So then once again, Satan unwittingly cooperated in the divine plan, to God's glory? This is surely a valid interpretation. Whether it's the only reason is a different matter.
How are things made holy through prayer? (I Tm 4:5)