Catch and Release?

I'll be back on the old blogging schedule soon. At present I am in Vero Beach, Florida finishing a three day seminar for that congregation. I must admit that it is exceptionally pleasant to sit on my hotel balcony overlooking the ocean as I read my books and write my lessons. It would be perfect if my wife were here. She is back home in Michigan in temps of 44 with cloud and rain. I don't share much about the glory of Florida with her on the phone. I want to stay married.

My father returned from Guyana safely. He and a friend baptized 16 people and strengthened a few congregations they have established over the years. Dad's health let him down a couple of times on this journey and he fears that, at 75, he might be done with jungles. I know that is a terrible thought for him to consider.

My mother is doing very well. Thank you for your prayers.

Now... to explain the title of this blog. I fear that our times of prayer for our brothers and sisters are too much like the "sport" of fishing (c'mon, how can it be a sport if you can gain weight and get drunk while doing it?) when the rules are "catch and release." Of course, we could collectively craft several columns on "catch and release" as it is practiced by our churches: get them into studies, make them lose the argument on baptism, dunk 'em, and forget 'em. But I want to address prayer this time around...

Two weeks ago on Wednesday we began a new policy on prayer. When I called up a man who is battling cancer, I asked for all to stand who would personally commit to him that they would pray for him every day until he was completely cancer-free. They would also be committing to stay in touch with him, exchangine phone numbers and emails, making contact. having lunch, etc. Several stood, then we all stood and prayed. Next were our elders. I asked for members to stand who would remember them in prayer -- by name -- daily. I told them that by standing they were making a covenant with the elders and with God; take it seriously. Once again, quite a few stood.

Thus passed the whole hour. Hundreds prayed, stood, and made contact -- personal, meaningful contact -- with those we lifted up in prayer. At the end of the evening I asked the congregation to line the walls of the Family Room (what we call the sanctuary) as we sang some hymns. I stood in the middle of the room and asked for all who had prayer needs to come to me. The elders joined me in greeting them and making personal pledges to stand with them in prayer. It was considered by most present to be the most powerful night they had spent in worship.

We're doing it again this week. I want to make sure we are not a catch and release congregation. The only way to do that is to make religion personal; to take seriously our covenant with God and each other.

Try it at your place.