🙏 Grace as the Ultimate Affirmative Prayer (Deep Dive)
From Vision Boards to Grace: A Confession
I just started trying something new. I'm sharing shorter, more accessible reflections over on Medium—a sort of wide front door for anyone curious about this work. Here on Substack, you'll always find the full deep dive: more personal, theological, and yes... Geeky. Think of this space as the living room, where we can really get into the fun stuff. I'm grateful you're here.
This week, I shared a shorter reflection on Medium (you can read it here if you’d like - but we’ll get into the fun stuff below) about how Lutheran preaching reminded me of affirmative prayer—both proclaiming God's unconditional "Yes." The basic idea was that grace isn't something to earn, but something to receive. But here in our Substack living room, I want to dig deeper. Because while God's "Yes" is absolutely true, it's only half the story.
The Problem Wasn't Affirmative Prayer. The Problem Was Me.
I genuinely loved affirmative prayer when I discovered it in the New Thought world before finding my way back to Christianity. Finally, a way to pray that didn't involve begging some cosmic tyrant for scraps! No bargaining. No groveling. Just alignment with God's nature, which is pure love, wisdom, and abundance.
For a while, my prayers felt clean. I'd affirm peace when I was anxious. Love when I felt separate. Forgiveness when I was bitter. It was beautiful, actually. I was learning to pray from God's perspective instead of my ego's panic.
But over time, my prayers subtly shifted. I went from aligning with God's qualities to trying to manifest material excess. My vision board went from "inner peace" to... well, let's just say it included a mansion on a golf course.
The technique wasn't bad. But my ego was still in charge. I was still trying to control outcomes, just with a spiritual vocabulary.
This is the thing about the ego: it can hijack anything. Even prayer. Even grace.
Law and Gospel: The Two Words That Changed Everything
When I landed in the Lutheran world, I kept hearing this phrase: "law and gospel." At first, it sounded harsh. Legalistic. Like we had to beat people up theologically before we could offer them grace.
But that's not what it means at all.
"Law and gospel" is a divine diagnostic.
The law reveals the blockage in our hearts before grace can feel like balm.
See, the ego wants to earn. It wants to control the outcome. It wants to be your god. And the things it wants you to desire are things that leave you empty. This way, like the drug dealer keeping you chasing after that perfect hit, you keep coming back to it. And it wants to keep you as-is. Disillusioned. Insecure. Desperate.
We have to see this before we can truly rest in God's action in our lives. Through the Law, God disavows the ego from its attempt at control. Through the law, God effectively says, "You'll never live up to divine perfection. Your ego will never give you wholeness. You think you earned the things you're asking me for? Uh, no, pumpkin. Look how far short you've actually fallen."
Here's what I mean: if I tell you "God loves you unconditionally" while you're convinced you're basically a good person who deserves it, that's nice but not life-changing. But if I tell you "God loves you unconditionally" after you've honestly faced how much of your life is driven by fear, control, and ego... Well, that's the difference between a greeting card and a resurrection.
The law isn't condemnation for its own sake. It's the necessary work of calling out the ego's tendency to twist everything—even prayer—into a control mechanism.
But here's the other half of the good news... God has another Word - an even louder one. That's grace. In this part of the dialectic, Jesus says, "And that's the good news... You haven't earned it. You can't earn it. And it's never been about earning it. I am your God because of my decision, my volition, and my perfect love. Not yours. I love you. Right where you are. And I'm moving in your life. Just as I am."
My New Thought self soooooo needed to hear this. And I'm so grateful I eventually found it.
Forde and the Death of the Old Self
The late Lutheran theologian Gerhard Forde puts it bluntly: the old self doesn't need improvement. It needs to die.
This cuts against everything our culture tells us about spiritual growth. We're supposed to upgrade ourselves, optimize our consciousness, manifest our best life. But Forde is saying something more radical: the self (lowercase-s egoic self) that wants to control God through prayer—even affirmative prayer—has to go.
Grace isn't about satisfying the ego. It's about crucifying it so something new can rise.
I think about all those manifestation workshops I attended. The premise was always the same: you can learn to use spiritual principles to get what you want. But what if what you want is the problem? And what if the "you" who wants it is the problem?
Forde's insight is that grace doesn't give the ego what it wants. Grace kills the ego so Christ can live in us instead. It's not self-improvement. It's self-replacement.
That's why affirmative prayer felt so good to my ego but ultimately left me empty. I was trying to use God to get stuff instead of letting God move in the ways that only God could. I became secure in my createdness knowing I was not my own creator. I could stop trying to steer the roller coaster and I could start putting my hands up in the air and enjoying where God took me.
Mannermaa: Christ as Our Life
This is where Finnish Lutheran theologian Tuomo Mannermaa's work becomes crucial. He argues that faith isn't just mental assent to doctrines about Christ. It's actual participation in Christ. Union with Christ.
When Paul says "it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me," Mannermaa takes that literally. Faith means Christ's life becomes our life. His death becomes our death. His resurrection becomes our resurrection.
This isn't just nice theology. It's a completely different way of being human.
Instead of using prayer as a technique for controlling outcomes, prayer becomes the space where we die to our need to control and rise into Christ's life. We don't pray to get cash and prizes from God. We pray to remember we are one with God.
The difference is everything. In my New Thought days, I was trying to align with God's abundance so I could have abundance. But Mannermaa is saying something wilder: we don't just access God's qualities. We participate in God's life.
That huge house I was affirming? That wasn't about abundance. That was about ego. It came from deep insecurity and not-enoughness. Real abundance is being so united with Christ that you don't need a bigger house - or anything more than the breath in your lungs - to realize your abundance.
The Real Confession
Here's my confession: I still love affirmative prayer. But now I always begin with confession.
My prayers sound more like this:
Lord, I want your Yes, but on my terms.
Help me want what you want.
Help me see where I'm still trying to be in charge.
Let me die and rise with you.
The confession isn't self-flagellation. It's honesty. It's admitting that even my prayers can become ego projects. It's acknowledging that I still want to use God instead of being used by God.
But here's what I've discovered: confession is the doorway to truly receiving grace. When I stop pretending I'm spiritually evolved and admit I'm still trying to control everything, grace stops being a concept and becomes a lifeline.
The law—the honest naming of my ego's games—doesn't disqualify me from grace. It prepares me to receive it.
Just last week, I caught myself mid-prayer asking God to help me get more newsletter subscribers. Not because I wanted to serve people better, but because I wanted to feel successful. I had to laugh. Even my prayers about prayer can become ego projects.
But that's the beauty of this practice. The moment I confess "I'm still trying to be in charge," grace rushes in. Not as a reward for good confession, but as the natural result of creating space for God to be God.
Grace as the Ultimate Affirmative Prayer
So yes, grace is still the ultimate affirmative prayer. God's answer is still "Yes." But it's only after law, confession, and surrender that we can hear it properly.
The pattern is essential: law before gospel, death before resurrection, confession before affirmation.
I want to be super clear here...
This isn't about earning grace through confession. It's about creating space for grace to be grace instead of ego-fuel.
When I pray now, I'm not trying to align with God's abundance so I can have more stuff. I'm asking to die to my need for stuff so I can have more God.
That's the real affirmative prayer: not "God, give me what I want" but "God, make me want what you want."
The Yes is still there. It's just bigger than my ego ever imagined.
How do you navigate this tension in your own prayer life? I'm genuinely curious about your experience with the law/gospel dynamic, whether you'd call it that or not. Hit reply and let me know—I read every response and often they spark future posts.
I have been a Catholic since birth and travelled for 31 years as a flight attendant.
When I stumbled upon St. Augustine's: "The world is a book, and those who do not travel have read only a page," I felt validated for reading beyond Catholicism, opening my mind to other philosophical concepts like Buddhism, Taoism, Stoicism, etc
Listening to podcasts hosting modern-day philosophers and psychologists who often quoted Carl Jung, Freud & Nietzsche also introduced me to the shadows lurking in my subconscious. It was what you call a "deep-dive" into "Know thyself."
Got to know more about my Ego from reading Eckhart Tolle. I gave my ego a name, I call him King Philip. I say it to let him know that I recognize his subtle ways.
When I read about you saying that Jesus unconditional love could come across as a greeting card or a resurrection to different listeners, I was reminded of the story of the sinful woman crying at Jesus feet (Luke 7:38). That did hit me like a "resurrection", particularly v.47.
By God's grace, I was made fully aware of the depth of my sinfuness, my aversion to the Cross (Mt 16:21-22), my difficulty with the utter complexity of truth, biases that clouded and compromised my objective thinking, etc.... I remember Bishop Robert Barron saying "pride is the capital of all capital sins." And none of us is spared from the remaining 6.
I have one shirt printed with these words: "The Good, The Bad and The Whole" --- the O in whole features the Yin Yang logo.... Construction ongoing