His joy — my joy

This last day of August seems to have arrived too soon (August is my favorite month). I didn’t get outside enough, didn’t ride my bike enough, didn’t travel enough. Nevertheless, my heart is filled with joy; not my joy, but the joy of Jesus.

Oswald Chambers asks, “What was the joy that Jesus had?” His answer is that we insult truth when we use the word happiness in connection with Jesus Christ. Jesus does not merely make us happy; He fills us with joy.

Chambers says His joy was absolute self-surrender, the self-sacrifice of Himself to His Father. He was filled with joy by doing what the Father sent Him to do. He said, “I delight to do Thy will.”

Have I allowed Jesus Christ to introduce this kind of joy to me?

That question makes joy a matter of choosing obedience, choosing to give up my I-wants and yield to His will. Even in the simple things, that kind of obedience may not look like it will produce joy, at least not up front, but it does.

He teaches me this is so in the smallest of things. For instance, I dislike talking on the phone, but He nudged me to call two people this week. I resisted for a couple days, then obeyed and was surprised by two long and delightful conversations. His joy.

I’m uncomfortable talking with people I barely know, but He nudged me to follow my hubby’s lead and invite some neighbors over for tea and pie. I mildly didn’t want to, but agreed and was blessed by more delightful conversation. His joy.

Jesus prayed that our joy might go on fulfilling itself until it was the same joy as His. “These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.” (John 15:11)

He also said, “Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full.” (John 16:24)

This joy floods in when I move toward God in obedience without concern about external happenings, physical circumstances and discomforts, or even my emotional state. As Chambers says, “the first thing that will hinder this joy is the captious irritation of thinking out circumstances.”

He is right. Jesus said the cares of this world will choke God’s word. Before we know what we are doing, we so easily get caught up in whatever is in our face, rather than remembering the wonderful promises of God, including the promise of His joy. It is there for the taking; it goes hand in hand with totally trusting Him and simply doing what He says.

Chambers adds this bonus: “Be rightly related to God, find your joy there, and out of you will flow rivers of living water. Be a center for Jesus Christ to pour living water through. Stop being self-conscious, stop being a sanctified prig, and live the life hid with Christ. The life that is rightly related to God is as natural as breathing wherever it goes.”

Then he reminds me that the lives that bless others the most are those who are unconscious of what they are doing. I know this is true because I’ve dear friends who are like that to me. Their godly and delightful lack of self-focus makes me want to be just like that to others, focusing on Jesus, doing what He says, blessing others because of Him, and being full of His joy.

If I don’t ask, I will not have . . .

James wrote to struggling Christians about their quarreling. He rebuked them for it and for their selfish desires. He said, “You have not because you do not ask.” (James 4:2)

What is the secret to an abundant life, to spiritual health and fruitfulness? What is the key to obtaining the blessings of God? I watch people trying to obtain all the good things of life and never finding satisfaction. They do not pray. I have been in churches where there seemed to be no life, no power, no blessing from God. They do not pray.

A friend once said, “When I miss a day of prayer, God takes note. When I miss two days, I notice it. When I miss three days, everyone notices.” She was right. Missing prayer does something to my days also. I’ve no quickness of mind, no steadiness, no calm spirit in those small or large calamities that happen. Sin more easily overtakes me. I’m grumpy as the joy of the Lord becomes elusive. I’m like an appliance unplugged, a flashlight with a dead battery. I have not because I do not ask.

The Bible instructs God’s people to do many things, but the constant is prayer. “Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.” (Romans 12:12–13) Constant prayer is listed with the attitude fruit of the Holy Spirit, like hope and patience, but also with action fruit like generosity and kindness to others. Without prayer, the Spirit leaks out and my motivation pales. I cannot be a blessing to others.

The Old Testament gives the same advice: “Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually!” (1 Chronicles 16:11) Prayer is not just for Sunday morning, grace at the table, and dire situations. It is for all the time, all day, continually.

It is also the way to resist temptation. Jesus told His disciples, “Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” (Matthew 26:41) They were in the Garden of Gethsemane and He was soon to be crucified. They cared. They wanted to support Him. They were also tired and could not stay awake to pray, even at this crucial time.

That sounds so familiar. Last night I went to bed with the enemy dangling a particular sinful idea in front of me. I was too tired to pray and fell asleep almost instantly. That idea woke me up four or five times in the night and even before my alarm rang. It would not go away without prayer, prayer that acknowledges the weakness of my flesh and my need for the power of the Holy Spirit.

Persistent prayer is also a challenge. I’ve prayed many requests for years. God has not said ‘no’ but the answers are still unseen. I’m encouraged by the parable Jesus told “to the effect that they ought always to pray and not lose heart.” It was about a widow who kept bothering a judge as she asked for justice against an enemy. The judge was annoyed and finally said to himself, “Though I neither fear God nor respect man, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will give her justice, so that she will not beat me down by her continual coming.”

Jesus said if an unrighteous judge will give in because of persistence, what about God? Will He not give justice to His people who cry to Him day and night? Of course God cares about His people and about justice far more than a worldly judge, but Jesus asks one more question: “Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” (Luke 18:1–8)

Not asking God, not persisting in prayer, are signs of small or little faith. This indicates an “I can do it myself” attitude. It may also indicate that I really don’t want whatever it is anyway, or that I think whatever temptation I should be praying about seems interesting and I want to think about it — even though I know that all temptation eventually turns around and bites me.

Jesus desires that I ask, not only that I have whatever is needed, but in the asking I discover how powerful He is and how much He loves me. He says, “Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full.” (John 16:24) He also wants me to be totally happy, even continually filled with joy.

Praying in Jesus’ name

My husband was asked by a Jewish friend to pray for the nations at his daughter’s bat-mitzvah. He agreed and soon received a phone call from the rabbi with the outline of the ceremonies and some special instructions. He said, “And please do not add anything, any words, to the end of your prayer.” My husband told the rabbi that he understood and assured him he would not embarrass the synagogue.

Since then, I’ve noticed how often Christians add “in Jesus’ name” to the end of prayers, sometimes without seeming to notice they are doing it. I’ve done it too. Because we are told to pray in the name of Jesus, we do it. But do we know what it means? Today’s devotional verse offers a major clue…

Therefore I did not presume to come to you. But say the word, and let my servant be healed. (Luke 7:7)

This centurion was not praying, but he had the right attitude about approaching Jesus. Other versions of the Bible translate this as, “I did not even consider myself worthy to come to you” which is also correct and shows how this man knew he was a sinner and had no merit or worth in himself to approach the Lord Jesus Christ.

The devotional says, “You are much more sinful than you think you are, much more unworthy than you know yourself to be.”

My pride does not want to think about this, but it is true. Apart from Christ, I am a hopeless case. My sin is deep and permeates far too much of what I try to do. Without Jesus, I have no power to escape sin’s power and I am not worthy to approach Him, in prayer or even in worship.

Yet the centurion’s attitude is the very attitude that gives me access. Because I am a sinner is actually the very reason I can claim His grace and come into His presence. He came to seek and save the lost. He came to die for the ungodly, for sinners such as me.

For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die— but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:6–8)

The centurion wanted healing for his servant, but knew he had no right to ask for it. A sinner wants healing for his soul, his sinful blight, but only by knowing and admitting our lack of worth do we have claim to His grace and healing power. Jesus Christ is able and willing to save those who come to God through him, but we must come just as we are.

By doing that, I discover some amazing things. My emptiness does not affect his fullness, but releases it. My weakness does not alter his power, but makes it available. My inability does not diminish his omnipotence, but gives it freedom to work. My undeserving does not restrain his love, but opens the door for it to rush in and change my life.

This applies to that day when I was saved, but also every day when I pray. I have no merit, no special place where I can stand before God and suppose that He should hear my cries. Yet He bids me come, not representing myself and my needs, but representing Him and His large heart, His deep concerns, His love for me and for sinners like me. I can pray in His name because He tells me to do it, but I cannot assume that I have a right to pray in any other way.

Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full. (John 16:24)

While my large and often painful burdens press me to Jesus, my unworthiness is not a barrier to His hearing and acting on my behalf. Instead, it is the very reason that He allows me the privilege of asking. This is one small part of what it means to pray in His glorious name.

Joy when the lost are found

When Jesus finds the sheep who are lost (souls that are spiritually wandering far from God), He must be like the shepherd described in His parable:

And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ (Luke 15:5–6)

How do I know that? Because when a lost sheep is found, they will tell someone their good news, and when I hear about it, I rejoice. My response is spontaneous and far greater than my delight over human accomplishments. 

For instance, my granddaughter wanted chickens and fresh eggs for her family. In her town, it was against the law to have chickens, so she went to city council and somehow got the law changed. She now has chickens, even made the pages of the local newspaper for her spunky efforts. This story delights me, partly for what she did and partly that she did it legally instead of simply breaking the law as many others do. However, should she or anyone else in my family hear the call of Jesus and be “found” by Him, my joy would be deeper, richer and perhaps louder! That kind of joy stretches from the bottom of the heart all the way into eternity.

Why is that? What makes the friends and neighbor of the shepherd rejoice over found sheep? Perhaps it is because in actual sheep situations, they have had the same experience of losing and looking for the lost. They also know the delight of finding and can share in that delight. 

In the spiritual realm, my delight parallels the depth of my understanding of “lost” — the more aware I am of the peril of being lost, the more excited I am to hear that a lost person has been found. 

That delight also parallels the love I have for those sheep. If I care about someone who is lost, then I will be praying that Jesus will bring them to the path that leads to God and eternal life. I’ve noticed that the more I pray for anything or anyone, the more I feel invested in the outcome. That is, when Jesus rescues someone I love and have had on my prayer list, my joy almost puts me in orbit. 

My delight also parallels the “lostness” of the sheep. While ‘lost’ is lost, some are only just outside the fence yet others are on the edge of a cliff. In both, spiritual lives are in grave danger. However, in some cases the choices the sheep make puts their physical well-being in danger also. So when Jesus pulls one of those sheep off the edge of a cliff, my heart (that has been in my throat) rejoices to see that sheep being tenderly placed on a safer path.

Lately as I pray, I think about these words from Jesus: “Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full” (John 16:24). Full joy is fine with me, but because of His promises, my prayers are focused more on those lost sheep.