As you can tell from this
poem called Prayer, written by a minister and poet called George Herbert, with
which I begin this talk, it is not at all easy to explain how Christians
understand prayer. Prayer is communication between human beings and God, and
this communication comes in many forms, whether spoken or silent, painted or
danced or lived, and in the end is much more than I can possibly put into
words.
Of course, prayer is not
restricted to Christians, or even to people of faith. For many more people than
would care to admit it in public, there are sudden moments in life, whether of
joy or sorrow, where they may suddenly be impelled to exclaim to a greater
power than themselves, ‘Thank you!’ or ‘Help me!’ For Christians, specific formal
prayers are part of our public worship; there are also less formal prayers by
which we express our own thoughts and feelings to God in the midst of ordinary
life; and for some there are the raptures of the mystics, who experience God’s
presence in a way words cannot describe.
But coming back from those
dizzy heights of prayer, one of the most common understandings in the Hebrew
Bible is that prayer is asking God for something we greatly desire to happen.
Women with no children pray for a child; kings pray for a victory; the great
king Solomon prays for wisdom. The technical word used for praying for
something for oneself is supplication; if we ask on behalf of someone else,
that is intercession. Because Christians believe that Jesus is perfectly human
as well as perfectly God, and therefore understands human need from the inside,
we believe he is constantly bringing human needs to God in prayer. It is
therefore part of a Christian’s choice in following Jesus to remember before
God all those in need: people who need food or shelter or work, who are sick
and need healing, who are troubled and need peace, or who are oppressed and
need justice. Sadly there is never any shortage of people and situations to
pray for in this way, both in public worship and in our private prayers.
Maybe it’s part of human
nature, but it’s often easier to ask God for things in prayer than to thank
God for needs that have already been met, so Christians, like everyone else,
need to practise being grateful to God. Recently I lived through a prolonged power
cut, which has made me appreciate the running water, heating and light I
normally take for granted. The beauties of nature, the joys of friendship and
the pleasure of food also move people in general and Christians in particular
to want to express gratitude to God. But while Jewish people have set prayer
words for many different occasions, blessing God for God’s many gifts,
Christians generally restrict themselves in formal prayer to thanksgiving before
meals, which is known as ‘saying grace’, and to public worship, on Sundays and
sometimes on other days.
Within that worship the
greatest Christian prayer of thanksgiving is said by the minister celebrating
Communion, the service in which Christians remember Jesus as he shared bread
and wine with outcasts and with his friends before he was betrayed and killed, as
well as with his friends after God raised him from death. Another word for that
whole service is ‘eucharist’, which is a Greek word meaning ‘thanksgiving’, and
the Eucharistic or thanksgiving prayer at the heart of that service thanks God
for all God’s gifts and particularly for the gift of Jesus’ presence, experienced
through God’s Holy Spirit. Some churches celebrate Communion daily or weekly,
some every few months, but for all it is crucial.
But thinking about both intercession
and thanksgiving has taken us right into the middle of that communication with
God that is prayer. The beginning of every
such conversation acknowledges the great difference between the almighty and perfect
God and us limited and fallible human beings. And that takes us in two
directions of prayer: adoration and confession. God, greater than the greatest
we can imagine, is most worthy of praise and adoration, so formal Christian
worship often begins, as we approach God in prayer, in describing who God is
and the wonderful things God has done. But considering God’s greatness also helps
us to remember our own need for God’s forgiveness.
When someone becomes a
member of a Christian church for the first time, they are baptised: washed with
water, to symbolise washing away all the spiritual dirt of the things they have
done wrong and the things they have failed to do right. At that point, Christians
will pray, asking for God’s Spirit to strengthen that person. But because we
human beings are not yet perfect, even after we have been baptised we go on
making mistakes, and we go on needing to admit those mistakes with sorrow in
God’s presence, so that we can be forgiven and start again with God and with
one another.
So every week in our formal
worship prayers approaching God are followed by prayers of confession. In some
Christian traditions these prayers have been handed down through generations
and exactly the same words are said every week. In other traditions people
speak spontaneously to tell God what is on their mind. Whichever way is chosen,
though the spoken words of prayer in a service are aids to help worship, the
real prayer, the real communication, is happening between each believer and
God, and it must be honest. The Hebrew Bible gives us many examples of prayer,
especially in the book of Psalms, many of which are addressed directly to God.
They contain inspired words of praise, of confession, of thanksgiving and of
intercession which we can use to fit our own need. But they also contain
expressions of anger, frustration, lament and accusations of betrayal when God
seems far away or uncaring. And this is also an important aspect of prayer: God
is interested in the whole of our lives, not just the pious part of us, so our
prayer should express what we really feel and believe, not what we think we
should.
One formal prayer that all Christians
hold in common is the Lord’s Prayer, so called because when Jesus’ friends
asked him how to pray, this is what he told them to say: Our Father in
heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done on earth as
in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. Forgive us our sins as we forgive
those who sin against us. Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from
evil. Ironically, while Jesus warned people against saying prayers for the
sake of it, this prayer is so familiar to most Christians that we can be in
danger of repeating it without thinking what we are saying.
Much of what Jesus said about
prayer is not easy, even for Christians, to follow. He told us we should pray
not just for those who love us, but also for those who hurt us; for God is
generous in giving sun and rain to wicked as much as to good people, and we
should imitate God’s goodness. He also advised his friends not to make a great
show of praying in public so everyone would admire them for being so holy.
Instead, he said, we should go into our rooms alone and pray, and God, who sees
what we do when we’re alone, will know about it if no one else does.
Much of Jesus’ advice about
how to pray came in the stories or parables he told. He talked about a family
all settled for the night when someone turns up at midnight, asking for a loaf
of bread, because a friend of his has suddenly turned up. This visitor won’t
take no for an answer and makes the poor householder disturb the whole
household in order to give him what he needs and make him go away again. Jesus
talked about a crooked judge who didn’t want to settle a poor widow’s law case
in her favour, but was persuaded to do so in the end, because she wouldn’t stop
nagging. Isn’t God more fair than that judge? he asks. Isn’t God more ready to
give us good things than that sleepy householder? Isn’t God more like a good
father, someone who will give his children bread and eggs, not stones and
scorpions? So don’t give up, Jesus urges us, don’t lose heart – go on praying!
But Jesus also followed the
prophets of the Hebrew Bible in reminding Christians that prayer has to be
truthful. We can pray in the most beautiful words possible, but if there is
injustice outside the church, and particularly if we are involved in it, our
prayer is worse than useless. Jesus underlined this with a story about a religious
man who’d kept all God’s laws praying alongside a tax collector who’d broken
most of them. Because the tax collector was honest and admitted what he’d done
wrong, God heard his prayer; but the religious man wasn’t really praying at
all, just patting himself on the back for being so good, and he went away
unheard. That’s something we religious people, whether we’re Muslim or
Christian, need to take into account if we are tempted to think God likes us
more than the people outside our communities who don’t do all the things we
think they should!
For himself Jesus found
prayer vitally important. He went off on his own in the early morning to pray,
though his friends or the crowds usually found him before long. But he also
prayed to God in public, when he was about to heal someone, when he was thanking
God for food and when he blessed children people brought to him. Maybe his own
most difficult prayer came the day before his crucifixion, when, seeing what
was going to happen to him, he asked God, if it were possible, to take this
painful death from him. But having been honest with God, he ended his prayer by
submitting his own will to God’s will.
So Christians use the
prayers of the Hebrew Bible, follow Jesus’ example and teaching in prayer, and
ask for God’s Spirit to pray in them when they don’t know what or how to pray. Since
the time of Jesus, however, though Jews and Muslims have kept to regular prayer
times, there is no one way, beyond regular Sunday worship, that most Christians
have been expected to regulate their prayer life. Monks and nuns, Christians who
have chosen to live in community and centre their lives on God, have developed
patterns of spoken and silent prayer at set times throughout the day, and ministers
from some Christian churches have followed that tradition. But going back to my
original definition of prayer as communication with God, prayer is not only a
matter of words.
Imagination can be a form of
prayer, as we listen to one of the stories about Jesus and wonder what our part
in the story might might have been, if we had been there. Painting can be a
form of prayer: the ikons of the Orthodox Church are meant to be windows onto
heaven. Even dance can be a form of prayer – as I do not need to tell Muslims,
from whose tradition whirling dervishes come! St Benedict, the founder of one
worldwide community of monks, who lived in the sixth century of the Common Era,
believed that all human work, when it is done to please God, can be prayer. The
Benedictine monks and nuns who still live by the rule of life he wrote spend
their days working in the fields and praying in the chapel, and see both as
part of their prayer.
I should like to end this talk by sharing with you again the poem with which I began, with its pile of images trying to describe what prayer is all about. For prayer is so much more than I or anyone can express; but maybe poets like George Herbert get close.
PRAYER the Churches
banquet, Angels age,
Gods breath in man returning to his birth,
The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
The Christian plummet sounding heav’n and earth ;
Engine against th’ Almightie, sinner's towre,
Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
The six daies world-transposing in an houre,
A kinde of tune, which all things heare and fear ;
Softnesse, and peace, and joy, and love, and blisse,
Exalted Manna, gladnesse of the best,
Heaven in ordinarie, man well drest,
The milkie way, the bird of Paradise,
Church-bels beyond the stars heard, the souls bloud,
The land of spices, something understood.