Prayer is becoming quite a big part of my life now. I help out as an intercessor on one of Greg Beckenham’s teams, and it occurs to me that belief is a big part of prayer. Greg’s ministry is called “Dare to Believe Ministries”, so me being me, I’ve been thinking a bit about how we believe, what we believe, how it relates to our relationship with God, which is pretty much defined by our prayer life.

It seems to me that there has been a deliberate attack on our capacity to believe. Pretty obviously, our language has evolved over time, and words take on different meanings. Let me give you a few other examples.

  • “I was at SG Friday night, it was unbelieveable!”
  • “You should come to our connect group … it’s incredible!”
  • “This morning’s service was fantastic!”
  • “Ollie’s coffee is unreal!”

By using exaggeration, we talk about our experiences using words that rob them of their reality.

  • Unbelieveable … self-explanatory.
  • Incredible … not credible, not believable. Impossible to believe.
  • Fantastic … a fantasy, not real. Imaginative or fanciful; remote from reality.
  • Unreal … again, not real. Imaginary or illusory.

Hang on, Phil’s just going all pedantic on us. We all know what we mean when we use these words, right? Just hold that thought, because we’ll come back to it in a moment.

Has anyone heard the expression “the willing suspension of disbelief”? It was actually coined by Samuel Taylor Coleridge who suggested that if a writer could infuse [a] “human interest and a semblance of truth” into a fantastic tale, the reader would suspend judgement concerning the implausibility of the narrative. What does this mean? It means that, if the story is good, we suspend our disbelief, and, for an hour or two, we accept that an overdose of gamma radiation will turn an angry man into a big green monster; that good guys never run out of ammo; that cars will explode if shot the right way; and that Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy can be romantically involved. We shunt aside our native skepticism, and for the duration, we believe.

So I started wondering … Do I suspend my disbelief (or my unbelief) for a period of a couple of hours on Sunday? Do I believe for the duration of a church service? Is it possible that I go back to my ground state of unbelief when I drive of this environment and go home, just as I set aside the adventures of Tony Stark when I leave the cinema?

I’d suggest that our culture trains us to do this. Yes, it says, believe and enjoy the story, but just for this period of time. Because … you know it’s not real. Come on, it’s just not believeable. It’s not credible. It’s a fantasy. And these are the very words we use to describe our experiences with our God.

How can you pray if you don’t believe? Why would you?

But you know what? IT’S ALL REAL!

God is real! He exists! And He exists on a Tuesday at 10am, and on a Friday afternoon at 3pm!

John Eldgredge wrote:

“Right above my bed I think I shall hang a sign that says, GOD EXISTS. You see, I wake most mornings an unbeliever. It seems that during the night, I slip into forgetfulness, and by the time the new day comes, I am lost. The deep and precious truths that God has brought me over the year and even just yesterday seem a thousand miles away. It doesn’t happen every morning, but enough to make it an ongoing reality. And I know I am not alone in this.”

Do you believe? If you believe in Him, you have to accept the lot. You have to believe that Jesus died for you because He loves you. That He rose from the dead and is seated at the right hand of the Father, interceding for us. And that love … that love calls forth a response, a desire to talk to Him. Not necessarily reading prayers out of books, but communing with him, heart to heart.

So stoke the fires of your belief. Have you ever made a deliberate confession of faith out loud since you were saved? A real one, not something that was the result of someone saying “repeat after me”? Try it. Go up to someone during the week and say “You know what? I believe that Jesus died for me.” Or “I believe that Jesus was raised from the dead.” Or “The Holy Spirit is my comforter.” Set an alarm on your phone that will go off on Wednesday at lunch time, and ask you … “Do you believe right now?” I hope you can answer “Yes.”