Archive: Lessons from the School of Intercession

By Stephen Seamands

An “off-the-wall experience” opens the door to a new dimension of spiritual power and authority—

The last thing I heard him say was, “Lord, let the spirit of intercession fall upon your people.” What happened next changed my life.

It was May, 1990. I was in Ypsilanti, Michigan, attending the Allies for Faith and Renewal conference on the Power of the Spirit. Fifteen hundred people were gathered in a gymnasium on the first evening of the conference for a time of worship and ministry. John Wimber of Vineyard Ministries International was leading the service. After he preached, scores of people responded to his invitation, and when they had all gathered at the front, Wimber began to pray.

I was sitting between my father and a close friend, intently observing what was happening, sensing God’s presence in our midst. Then came Wimber’s words: “Lord, let the spirit of intercession fall upon your people.” Up until then the farthest thing from my mind was the seminary where I teach. Indeed, one of my reasons for attending the conference was to get away from the seminary and the end-of-semester busyness. But as soon as John Wimber spoke those words, I found myself thinking about the seminary—particularly about the bitter conflict and division that had arisen among our faculty over a particular issue.

Before I knew it, there were tears in my eyes. I wasn’t just thinking about the situation, I was crying about it. Then I found myself not just crying, but crying out so loudly that people all around could hear me. There was such a deep groaning within that I couldn’t contain myself. “Oh, God,” I kept crying. “Oh, God!” I couldn’t stop. The groaning and crying went on for several minutes.

When I finally quieted down, the Lord seemed to whisper to me, “Steve, I know the conflict at the seminary is upsetting to you, but you have no idea how upsetting it is to me. It’s breaking my heart.”

A Deep Breath

A few days after I returned from the conference, I was talking with several faculty colleagues. They were expressing their concern about a faculty meeting I had missed while attending the conference. During that meeting the underlying conflict and division had erupted again. I took a deep breath and said, “May I tell you about something that happened to me recently?” Then, with considerable hesitation, not sure of what they would think of my “off-the-wall” experience, I described what had happened to me that evening at the conference. When I finished, my colleagues seemed to be taken aback. “Since I’ve come back from that conference,” I pressed on, “God has placed a burden on my heart simply to pray for our situation. Would you like to join with me sometime next week for a time of intercessory prayer for the seminary?”

They all agreed. So we got together—about seven of us—and for more than an hour we prayed. We didn’t analyze the problem or propose solutions—something we seminary professors are so good at doing. We simply prayed about it, like King Jehoshaphat at the point where all he could say was, “We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon you” (II Chronicles 20:12).

Over the summer months I went to about 20 other faculty members, told them about my experience at the conference, and invited them to what became a monthly faculty intercessory prayer meeting that continued for the next two years. In the fall we witnessed a major breakthrough in relation to the conflict that had torn our community. Of course, we still bear some scars from that conflict. But ever since that breakthrough the situation has been noticeably different.

That experience marked my initiation into the school of intercession. Since that time intercessory prayer has taken on meaning and importance it never had for me before. Here are some of the lessons I have been learning.

Co-laboring with Christ

I knew that intercession—prayer which focuses on the needs and concerns of others—was important. So I always made sure that a portion of my prayer time was devoted to it. I prayed for my family and friends. I prayed for our nation. I prayed for the worldwide advance of the gospel. When I was a pastor I prayed for the church I was serving and the individual members of the congregation. But I must confess that most of the time my intercession was half-hearted and usually done from a dry sense of duty. I knew I should do it, so I did it. But I found it much easier to pray for myself than for others. My enthusiasm for intercession was generally quite low.

Now, however, I’ve discovered a scriptural truth that has changed everything. True intercession is simply a participation in the ongoing intercession of the risen and ascended Christ. Having ascended into heaven and sat down at the Father’s right hand, the exalted Christ is now engaged in the ongoing work of intercession. As Paul declares, “It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who intercedes for us” (Romans 8:34, NRSV). Likewise, the writer of Hebrews tells us that Jesus, our eternal high priest, “always lives to make intercession” (Hebrews 7:25, NRSV).

Christ, then, is the principal actor in intercession, not we. The burden of intercession is his, not ours. “Unless he intercedes,” said Saint Ambrose, “there is no intercourse with God either for us or for all saints.” Consequently, we are not called to bear the burden of intercession ourselves, but to piggyback upon Jesus’ intercession—to be co-laborers with him in his ongoing intercession in heaven.

Participation, Not Initiation

What I experienced that evening at the conference brought this truth home to me in a dramatic way. In reflecting on what happened, I realized that as I cried out I was caught up in something much bigger than I was, in something that I hadn’t initiated. For just a few moments I had experienced a measure of the intensity of Christ’s intercession. In some mysterious way, I was caught up in the intercession of the Son at the Father’s right hand.

Of course I don’t usually experience the reality of Christ’s intercession in such a dramatic fashion. Often when I intercede for others, I feel very little. That doesn’t discourage me as it once might have done. Realizing that my intercession is a participation in Christ’s intercession, I find myself simply inviting Jesus to pray in and through me for that particular person or situation. I also invite the Holy Spirit to come as the spirit of intercession to show me how to pray for others and to pray in me on their behalf (see Romans 8:26-27). And he does!

Too often we take the burden of intercession upon ourselves—as if we, ourselves, must make it happen. We feel guilty because we don’t care enough and pray enough for others. “Lord,” we plead, “help me to pray more for so-and-so.” When we realize that we are called to intercede with Christ rather than for him the burden is no longer heavy, but light.

Amy Carmichael, who worked among the temple girls of South India, tells about a time when the opposition to her work became so intense, and the evil which bound the girls seemed so strong, that she wondered if she could carry the burden any longer. She writes:

At last a day came when the burden grew too heavy for me; and then it was as though the tamarind trees about the house were not tamarind, but olive, and under one of these trees our Lord Jesus knelt alone. And I knew that this was His burden, not mine. It was He who was asking me to share it with Him, not I who was asking Him to share it with me. After that there was only one thing to do; who that saw Him kneeling there could turn away and forget? Who could have done anything but go into the garden and kneel down beside Him under the olive trees?

Christ is looking for those who will join him in his great work of intercession. Realizing this fact has changed my whole attitude toward intercession. What a privilege it is to be able to join him!

Identification

Intercession not only joins us with Christ in his intercession, it also joins us with those we are praying for. We identify ourselves with them even to the point of being willing to suffer and sacrifice on their behalf.

There are many illustrations of such identification in Scripture. For example, when Nehemiah heard the news that the walls and gates of Jerusalem were in ruins, he “sat down and wept” and for days he “mourned and fasted and prayed” (Nehemiah 1:4). Although he was a righteous man, in his prayer of confession he acknowledges the sins of his people as if they were his own: “I confess the sins we Israelites, including myself and my father’s house, have committed against you. We have acted very wickedly toward you” (Nehemiah 1:6b-7).

Daniel’s intercession is similar. He also pleaded with God on behalf of the people “in prayer and petition, in fasting, and in sackcloth and ashes” (Daniel 9:3). Few were more righteous than Daniel, yet he prays, “We have sinned and done wrong. We have been wicked and rebelled” (Daniel 9:5). Both these great intercessors identified themselves with the people they were praying for. They didn’t pray, “Lord, forgive them,” rather they said, “Lord, forgive us. “

Following my experience at the conference when God placed a burden upon my heart for the situation at the seminary, I often found myself doing the same thing. I could no longer point my finger at other members of the faculty and blame them for the conflict. I saw as never before that the very attitudes I despised in others were lodged in my own heart as well. At one prayer meeting in particular, I suddenly found myself weeping and confessing the sins of the seminary on behalf of the seminary, even while I confessed them as my own sins.

On another occasion, I was praying for one of my teenage sons. He had said, in relation to some persons who were in authority over him, “I’ll submit to them outwardly, but never with my whole heart.” His attitude disturbed me and so I began to pray that God would change it. But one day while I was praying the Lord said to me, “Where do you think he learned that attitude? Your son is just like you! You do the very same thing in relation to certain people in you life. Outwardly you go along with them, but your heart is seething with anger and rebellion. Before I change that attitude in your son, I first want to change it in you.”

Fasting

Like Nehemiah and Daniel, I have also found God moving me to fast for persons and situations for which I am praying. In fact, it was during the summer following the conference that I first began to fast.

I knew there were numerous references in Scripture which commended fasting. As a United Methodist, I also knew what an important part fasting played in the life of John Wesley and the early Methodists. When I was ordained, I had affirmed the 19 historic questions which Wesley had put to his lay preachers. The 16th question reads, “Will you recommend fasting and abstinence, both by precept and example?” Yet, I must confess, I had never done either.

In the past few years that too has changed. As I pray for persons and situations, I find God often puts within me a desire to fast for them. I don’t understand how it works, but I believe that when we are willing to identify with others even to the point of sacrificing on their behalf (whether through fasting or some other means), God’s power is released in their lives and circumstances.

Battle

Like it or not, all Christians are engaged in spiritual warfare—a violent battle with Satan in which we seek to reclaim enemy territory that rightfully belongs to God. As Paul reminds us, “our struggle is not against flesh and blood” but against “the powers of this dark world” and “the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12). Intercessory prayer is our primary offensive weapon. Engage in it with any degree of seriousness and you will soon find yourself in the heat of battle.

From the world’s point of view, intercession appears weak and ineffective. If you want to change a person or situation, doesn’t it make more sense to take a direct, hands-on approach? But again, as Paul points out, the weapons of our warfare are spiritual, not worldly. They have divine power to demolish strongholds, arguments, and pretensions, and to take every thought captive to make it obedient to Christ (see II Corinthians 10:3-6).

What makes intercession such a powerful spiritual weapon? Earlier, I said that when we intercede we are united with the ascended Christ in his great work of intercession at the Father’s right hand. Understanding this relieves us of the burden of intercession. It also reveals why there is such power in intercession. Throughout the Scripture the right hand of God is synonymous with God’s power and authority. For example, following God’s deliverance of his people from Pharaoh’s army at the Red Sea, Moses sang “Your right hand, O Lord, was majestic in power. Your right hand, 0 Lord, shattered the enemy” (Exodus 15:6).

The fact, then, that Jesus is ascended and seated at the Father’s right hand signifies that he possesses all divine power and authority. The power and authority to carry out the work of redemption and to bring it to consummation are now in his hands.

A young boy said to his father as they were watching a breathtaking sunset, “God must have painted that with his left hand.”

“Why do you say that?” asked his father. “Why do you say God painted it with his left hand?”

“Well, he must have used his left hand,” answered the boy. “After all, every week in church we say that Jesus is sitting on his right one!”

No, Jesus is not sitting on the Father’s right hand. But because he is ascended and sitting at the Father’s right hand, all power and authority has been given to him. The Father has said to him, “Sit at my right hand, until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet” (Psalm 110:1; Hebrews 1:13). His enemies are being scattered. They are being fashioned into a footstool for his feet!

Seated in the Heavenlies

Because we are in Christ, we too have been raised up and seated in the heavenlies with him (see Ephesians 2:6). His power and authority have been conferred upon us. As I have begun to engage in serious intercession, I have discovered the power and authority I have as a believer in Christ who is seated in the heavenlies with him. As I intercede, I reaffirm my position in him, and from that position I exercise the power and authority that has been given to me. Christ’s enemies are being shattered. They are being fashioned into a footstool for his feet. Through intercession I am privileged to wage war alongside the Lamb and hasten the outworking of that process.

But Christ’s enemies are stubborn and resistant. They submit and yield territory only when they are forced to do so. So as we engage in the battle of intercession, we must be patient and persistent. Often, as we pray for persons or situations, there is no apparent change in them. Sometimes they even seem to get worse! After a while it is easy to stop praying. But if we keep praying for them on the basis of faith in what the Spirit of God is doing, eventually it begins to make a difference.

I have been challenged and encouraged as I engage in the battle of intercession for others by a statement of Oswald Chambers:

When we pray for others the Spirit of God works in the unconscious domain of their being that we know nothing about, and the one we are praying for knows nothing about, but after the passing of time the conscious life of the one prayed for begins to show signs of unrest and disquiet. We may have spoken until we are worn out, but have never come anywhere near, and we have given up in despair. But if we have been praying, we find on meeting them one day that there is the beginning of a softening in an inquiry and a desire to know something. It is that kind of intercession that does most damage to Satan’s kingdom. It is so slight, so feeble in its initial stages that if reason is not wedded to the light of the Holy Spirit, we will never obey it, and yet it is that kind of intercession that the New Testament places most emphasis on.

So I am learning not to lose heart, and to persist in spite of what I see. As I patiently engage in prayer through the power of the Holy Spirit, I am amazed at how God works. When we intercede, he intervenes!

Stephen Seamands is professor of Christian Doctrine at Asbury Theological Seminary in Wilmore, Kentucky, and author of A Conversation with Jesus: Renewing Your Passion for Ministry (Victor). Reprinted with permission of Faith & Renewal.

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Join Our Mailing List!

Click here to sign up to our email lists:

•Perspective Newsletter (weekly)
• Transforming Congregations Newsletter (monthly)
• Renew Newsletter (monthly)

Make a Gift

Global Methodist Church

Is God Calling You For More?

Blogs

Latest Articles: