“It’s not magic words,” he said. “It’s not a phrase that you say at the end of your prayer that somehow gives the prayer power or makes God do something.”

 

“Right,” I said, “that’s why you’ve got the first commandment: no other gods, and then a whole separate second commandment against idolatry.”  

 

“Yes, idolatry is about procedures, special words, or actions that we use to try to manipulate God. At Sinai, for instance, God is saying he’s the only real God, manipulation doesn’t work on him, and that you don’t need to manipulate him, because he’s already committed to doing what’s good for you. That was totally new for a bunch of people raised under paganism. Paganism is all about having to do the rain dance just right so that you can obligate the gods to do stuff for you. Beside just being a lie, it’s exhausting. God is opening up a way out of that misery – they can’t manipulate him, and he’s good so they don’t need to.”  

 

“Ok, so, when we say ‘in Jesus’s name’ at the end of prayer, it’s not magic words.” I said.

 

“That’s right. It doesn’t give us power over God. It just a way of saying, ‘here’s my prayer, answer it according to your story.’”

 

“What do you mean ‘according to your story’?”  

 

“Well, think of the way that you edit a story that you might be writing. You decide what to keep or leave out depending on its relevance to what you’re trying to say through the narrative, right? Do you remember learning about topic sentences in Jr. High English? The topic sentence sets up your editing principle. You decide what to keep in your story or essay, by the degree to which it can connect back and support your topic sentence.”

 

“I do remember that, even though I fell asleep a lot in English class. In fact, one time, I woke up and the whole classroom was empty and the lights were off; everyone, including the teacher, had left for lunch without waking me.”  

 

“And look how well you’ve turned out?”

 

“I know, right?”  

 

“So, “in Jesus’s name” is kind of like asking God to provide your topic sentence. And the topic sentence is the story revealed by God in the Scriptures and especially in Jesus.”  

 

“Interesting, so, in a way Jesus himself does this when he’s tempted in the desert, or at Gethsemane. Some desire or opportunity or alternate choice comes along and he holds it up to the story God is telling to see whether it fits. The temptations don’t fit, so they get edited out or rejected. In Gethsemane, he kind of says, “if there’s some way to keep from drinking this cup that’s still in keeping with the story you’re telling, let me know – but I don’t want to tell any other story than the one you’re telling, Father.”  

 

“Yeah, that’s the idea. If something I’m praying doesn’t line up with what you’re about, Lord, answer my prayer accordingly. Or another way of thinking about it might be that when I say “In Jesus’s name” I’m saying ‘if this is something Jesus is praying for too, then that’s what I want to be about.’”

 

“Because when we pray we’re entering into a conversation that God is already having within the Trinity.” I said.

 

“Yes, when we pray we’re participating in whatever God is already doing. We’re being invited into the Life of the Trinity. That’s why prayer changes us, because through prayer we are shaped for participation and we learn ways that we can be a part of telling the story,” he said.  

 

“That reminds me of a time when I had two flat tires in the middle of Kansas. I posted a video online and asked people to pray, and within a few hours some friends sent enough money to cover the tow truck, two new tires, and all the repairs. It was incredible!”  

 

“Yes! What happened was that those friends joined God’s conversation about your situation and were given an opportunity to go do with God what he wanted to do for you. And little more of the story got told. When we pray we’re asking God to make a place for us in whatever he’s doing.”

 

“Right, and if we’re praying for something that he’s not doing, or we aren’t sure, we practice submitting to the story he’s telling, by saying, ‘in Jesus’s name’.”  

 

“Yeah, I think that’s a way of putting it.”  

 

“Another way of putting it could be in musical terms.”  

 

“That’s interesting.”  

 

“Yeah, Lewis says at the beginning of Mere Christianity that all of our desires are like keys on a piano. The keys or notes aren’t right or wrong in themselves – it’s all about context. Any key, any human desire, could be right or wrong depending on the song the composer is trying to play. The way you know what notes to play, is by learning the tune.”  

 

“So what you’re saying is that God is singing a particular tune. That means there’s such a thing as harmony and disharmony, being offbeat or onbeat, in or out of tune, etc.?”

 

“Yes, but remember to be a person is to be relational, so how does music work?”

 

“Well, it’s a richly complex interplay of all kinds of things. But it definitely has a communal reality at the root.”

 

“That’s right. Think of a symphony or even just a garage band. Several people, playing different instruments, all trying to make their parts combine into one whole thing that’s beautiful. What makes a good concert possible? What makes a band or symphony good?”  

 

“Well, the members have to listen really closely to all the other members. They have to get on the same page. They can’t all be playing different songs, different tunes. Like, if the violin section decided to just play some other song, it would wreck the whole thing.”  

 

“But if everyone follows the conductor, follows the same tune, has put in the hours to get some expertise on their instrument – they can make incredible music together. The violins can’t say to the trumpets – we don’t need you, and the cellos can’t say to the oboes – we don’t need you. There’s a place for all kinds of totally different instruments to all play parts of the same song together and make one, rich, complex, and beautiful thing come to life in the world.”  

 

“But none of that can happen without listening – to each other, but especially without listening closely to learn the song itself.”

 

“Yeah. And there’s a lot of competing noise and competing songs.”  

 

“That’s right. Some of it’s just bad acoustics – just noise. Some of it’s instruments that have been damaged. Some of it’s composers who are usurping the podium and sowing discord. Discord is deception.”  

 

“But what’s exciting is that, the better we know the song, the more deeply we’ve absorbed the tune, and the more we’ve tuned and cared for our instruments – the better we get at playing along. And I mean playing as in playfulness too. I mean we can improvise on a theme.”  

 

“Think about how music works – when it’s at its best, music is like a realm or a world we can inhabit and explore. That’s what improvisation is – it’s playing on a vast playground. Once you’re in the boundaries of the song – you can explore, you can play. The band leader can point to you and say “gimme eight bars”, and you can let loose.”  

 

“So learning the tune, even if its takes a lot of hard work and discipline, is ultimately about the joy of playful participation?”

“That’s right, it’s kind of about jamming in the band. And the band members know how to practice hospitality; they take turns, trade licks. It gives them joy to see the music coming to life – to support the song, and play a part.”  

 

“Alright, then, praying ‘in Jesus name’, is like saying help me learn to play in the band or the symphony. I want to be a part of this music you’re making, Lord!”  

 

“Yeah, we’re always listening for the tune, the rhythm, the words, the narrative, the context. Think of the writer of Psalm 119 – this guy is desperate to get this tune or this storyline to sink right down into his marrow. The word he uses is ‘law’, which sounds stuffy to us, but he’s talking about the the ways of God that he wants to move inside of. He wants to hide God’s law inside of his heart. He wants to know this story, this tune backwards and forwards. He doesn’t want to sin – to play out of tune – and he doesn’t want to follow some fake storyline. This song is the grain of reality. It’s the only story that will endure death. The only song that will last through the fire. Only God’s story will endure forever.”

 

“And, back to the question we started with, that story is kind of summarized in the name of Jesus.”

 

“It is. Jesus’s name is how we test competing tunes and stories. Is this what Jesus is singing or telling? It’s a gift; a way to keep from wasting our lives. It reminds us who we belong to, what tune we’re listening for, what’s the story we’re in. Jesus’s is the heartbeat of reality; I want to keep my ear pressed against that chest, till his music becomes mine.”