Matt Chandler - A Foundation of Prayer

Good morning! Let me just start by thanking you for risking your life and going out in this weather. It’s no small thing for me to acknowledge my gratitude that you love the Lord in such a way that you would put yourself in harm’s way to worship Him in person. If you’re home right now, that’s no slight against you. If you’re in front of a fire and enjoying a drink, that’s perfectly fine—you’re just receiving your reward now. So I want you to enjoy that. Take a sip for me! When we get to glory, come on over to where the bigger houses are, and we’ll hang out then. I’m totally joking! If you have your Bibles, Nehemiah chapter one is where we’re going to be. Let me tell you what the plan was: the plan was to dig into Genesis chapter one and talk about life, what life is, and the implications of our belief in defining life as the Word of God defines it. Our system kind of works like this: that sermon was done, and there was a beautiful video shot of Amber Dion sharing a testimony—all that was done around Wednesday by noon, and then I dropped off the grid. I was filming for Lifeway. Lifeway is taking sections of the John study that we did, which felt like seven years ago, but was actually just a year and a half or so ago. Doesn’t that feel like forever? They planned to take the first three chapters of John and create a small group curriculum. I had to do intros and outros, so I was kind of stuck away, phone put up, just recording when I got back to my phone. There were 60 or 70 text messages. Now, maybe that’s normal for you, but that is not normal for me. I am on some group threads, but if you get too chatty in a group, you’re getting notifications turned off! I started seeing that they were from everywhere. I had 20 from our elders, and all of them were like, «Oh my gosh! The capital! The capital!» I had no clue! So then I started playing catch-up at around 3:30 in the afternoon. I hopped on and saw the madness that was going on, and then I had this moment where I thought, «Okay, Lord, do we proceed with the weekend as planned, or do You want me to step into this space and address the mess unfolding before us?» I don’t make those decisions alone. I literally sent a text message to the elder staff. He responded in like 2.6 seconds, as if he had been waiting for me to say something. I was unsure of what to do; I thought I needed to address this, but man, it was going to be such a powerful weekend. They said, «We’ll pray, but you should address this.» So the elders were like, «You should address this.» Then, on Thursday, I don’t know if you know this, but at noon a bulk of the staff meets right here, and we just pray our faces off. I mean, notice what we do! Several of us fast, and it was amazing on Thursday. After that, I went back, started rearranging things, and penned this sermon that I turned in this morning at around six. I was like, «Here are my notes.» So now I want to dive in and address where we find ourselves. When I heard about Wednesday and turned on the TV, I felt that feeling I’m getting tired of feeling—it’s one I didn’t know was normal in my life until the last three or four years. It’s a feeling of sadness mixed with disappointment, anger, and fear. It is a new kind of emotion for me. I remember feeling it when George Floyd was murdered. Watching that video, I felt sadness, anger, disappointment, and frustration. I thought, «What in the world?!» I felt it again in July when, under the banner of justice, cities burned, and businesses were destroyed. I felt it on repeat during the chaos of a pandemic. I have wondered how our thirteen-year-olds are processing this unprecedented wave after unprecedented wave after unprecedented wave. It’s already scary enough without all this! Then I felt it again in the fall as the political fervor heated up, and division was visible wherever you looked. I felt it again on Wednesday. Here’s what I want to try to do: you and I right now have a front-row seat at what happens when humanity wants the kingdom but not the King. We literally have courtside seats at the devolution of culture, because what they want is the kingdom—freedom, identity, human flourishing—but they just don’t want the King to tell them how that works. When you want the kingdom without the King, you seize things in a way that you shouldn’t, and you take control in ways you shouldn’t. Consequently, culture devolves. The nearly impossible impulse in this moment is to choose a side. I mean, the pull of the air…