The Prayer of Jabez

Name after name after name. Fathers and sons, grandfathers and great-grandchildren. A list that goes on for chapters. And then, suddenly, the list stops. And the writer tells us about one man.

The books of Chronicles were written long after the time of the kings. The people of Judah had been taken away to Babylon, and many had later come home to a small, struggling land. They needed to remember who they were. So the writer begins at the very beginning, with Adam, and traces the families of God's people down through the generations. Nine whole chapters of names. For people who had lost so much, these lists said: you belong. Your family is part of God's story. In chapter four, we are in the long list of the families of Judah. Hur, Shobal, Reaiah, Jahath, Ashhur, Koz. And then a man named Jabez.

The writer tells us two things about Jabez before his prayer. First, he was more honourable than his brothers. People respected him. Second, he had a difficult name. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, because I gave birth to him in pain. In Hebrew, his name sounds a lot like the word for pain or sorrow. We are not told what made his birth so hard. Perhaps it was a dangerous labour. Perhaps it was a time of grief in the family. But every time someone called his name, it was as if they were saying: the one who brought pain. Imagine carrying a name like that through your whole life.

And then Jabez did something. He called on the God of Israel. He did not pretend his life was fine. He did not try to fix it all himself. He prayed. And the writer records his words. Oh that you would bless me indeed, and enlarge my border. Let your hand be with me. Keep me from harm, so that it may not bring me pain. It is a short prayer. Four requests. Bless me. Give me room to grow, more land for my family to live on. Stay close to me. And keep me from the evil and the hurt that my very name seemed to promise. It is honest, and it is simple. He asks God for help, because he trusts that God is the one who can give it.

And then comes the last line, the one the writer clearly wanted us to hear. And God granted him what he requested. That is all. No long explanation. No list of how it happened. Just this: Jabez asked, and God answered. Then the list of names begins again, as if nothing had happened. Chelub, Shuhah, Mehir, Eshton. But for one moment, in a book full of kings and battles and temples, the writer paused to remember a man who prayed. Out of all the people in that long list, Jabez is the one remembered for talking to God.

There is a little wordplay here that is lost in English. In Hebrew, the name Jabez and the word for pain share almost the same letters, but in Jabez's name two of them are swapped round. And in his prayer, he asks God to keep him from harm so that it will not pain him, using that same word. The man whose name meant pain asked God to keep pain away. And God did.

The prayer of Jabez. You'll find it in First Chronicles chapter four, verses nine and ten. A man with a painful name, an honest prayer, and a God who answered. So here is a question to carry with you. What could you ask God for today, simply and honestly, trusting that he hears?