Getting into the habit ....

No I haven't decided to become a monk...

Like many people last week, I ended up preaching on prayer, specifically on the reading from Luke 11:1-13, the shorter and considerably less flowery version of the Lord's prayer.

The thing is, I’m not actually very good at praying. I just can’t seem to get into the sort of routine that seems to be expected and encouraged. I've tried, but getting up early is not a thing. My mornings are cat-assisted, and I don't think "Tiffy get off my chest" counts as prayer. (although how does four kilos of cat feel so much heavier?)

Four Kilos of sleeping cat

I've always felt slightly guilty about my apparent lack of a "regular" pattern of daily prayer. Now, don’t get me wrong, I pray every day, often multiple times a day, but never at set times and not normally in a way that feels planned. My prayers often feel conversational and even a little argumentative, so if you ever see me walking down the street, headphones on and muttering to myself, I'm likely in the middle of a conversation or argument with God. Not what I have always assumed "proper" prayer looks like. I know from Church what that is supposed to be like, and when I am leading or taking part in worship, I really enjoy a lot of the liturgical language, even as I sometimes get frustrated by the formality of it, it looks and feels nothing like the way I pray when I am on my own.

So I have a lot of sympathy for the disciples needing to ask Jesus how to pray. There are a lot of parallels. They were Jewish men, brought up within their faith tradition. They knew what prayer was supposed to look like. They were all used to a pattern of regular daily prayer, which fit the formulas and traditions they had grown up with. Yet it is clear that when they saw Jesus praying, they realised that maybe they were missing something.

From scripture, we know that Jesus had a regular pattern of daily prayer; in fact, Jesus prays all the time. The Gospel of Luke contains more references to Jesus praying than any of the other Gospels. There are seven references in Matthew, four in Mark, five in John, and eleven times in Luke. In total, there are about 27 mentions of Jesus praying in the Gospels.

So seeing Jesus praying was clearly not unusual and in itself would likely not have led to the disciples asking him to teach them to pray. Jesus must have been doing something different, something that stood out.

I think that two things which likely stood out to the disciples were: the way in which Jesus regularly prayed to God as "Father", and the highly conversational way in which Jesus seemed to pray, even when he was praying in public. My favourite example of this latter point is probably his prayer in John 11 following the death of Lazarus:

“Father, I thank you for having heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.”

or possibly in Luke 10:21, where we read:

“I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise… Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.”

For me, there is a very real sense of a two-way conversation, and I would love to be able to hear the other side of this. The language Jesus used in prayers was personal and reflected a close relationship with his father. Now I know this is tricky because not everyone has that type of close personal relationship with their fathers. I know I don't talk to mine nearly as much as I should. I'm going to blame ADHD and object permanence, I am lousy at remembering to talk to people, especially when they are not nearby or I don't see them regularly .... it is something I need to work on.

However, and this is the bit which I think is really important. When the disciples ask Jesus to teach them to pray as he does, he does not teach them a formula (ironic that we have turned it into one) but instead invites them (and us) to approach the Father with the same intimacy and expectation that he does, with the confidence that we can take everything to God, all our joys, our fears, our pain and hurt and all of our hopes and know that we will not be rejected.

For me, this means that my conversations and arguments with God as I walk down the street are part of a pattern of prayer. Albeit a somewhat messy pattern that somehow fits in around the more formal prayers I lead or take part in as part of worship. Now I am going to keep trying to form a more regular pattern of prayer, ... after all, Jesus did it. However, perhaps I can stop beating myself up when I find that difficult and remember that prayer isn't about getting it right or trying to convince or bargain with God to do what I want, but is about a relationship with God who is genuinely pleased and excited to talk with me.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to make a phone call ....