Pray!

James 5:13-16; Matthew 6:9-13

To pray is to connect. It is connecting with God so we can be more connected to others and to ourselves. It is connecting to our source of life. It is connecting to the space and time in which to figure out who we are, where we are going, and how we will get there. Prayer is many things, but it is always about the essential connection at its core.

Which begs the question of how most of us pray. 

All too often we practice a sort of reductionism with prayer, diluting it down to its basest form—making a request. We pray asking for something, for some result, for some outcome, and for even a parking spot. We turn prayer into an activity akin to visiting the ATM. We punch in our code and await God delivering the goods.

We turn prayer into a practice of speaking with no silence for listening. We turn prayer into a one-sided speech, filling up the space with our own voice, elevating our wants to unsupportable positions, and missing the presence of God altogether.

Instead, consider the way Jesus taught us to pray.

Jesus’ prayer follows a simple pattern—

praise

perspective

providence

penitence

protection

praise

Six P’s, if you will. 

Consider what that pattern does—

First, it immediately invites God into the moment. It acknowledges that God is the center of all that is, the Holy of Holies, but a holiness that cares about us (“Father”). Then, it establishes the proper perspective—it is not what we want that matters, but attuning to and adhering to the direction of God, for God alone knows what is truly necessary and sustaining. This means that all subsequent requests come with the understanding that those aligned with the being of God will most likely be affirmed—i.e., those that flow from self-emptying compassion will more than likely lead somewhere. Furthermore, it immediately sets us in a place of humility—whatever answer comes (or doesn’t) will be the right answer, even if it in no way, shape, or form meets our expectations. 

Then, having been put in our place, so to speak, we begin to ask for what we need. “Daily bread” is about the basics. God provides what we need to live—and to live fully. We need to orient our requests around this simple understanding of providence. God wants us to thrive. But thriving does not means “more than enough,” but rather the necessities by which we can live securely. We have a hard time grasping this because we have fooled ourselves into thinking we MUST HAVE more than enough to thrive. We convince ourselves that we need 3000 feet for a couple in which to live. We convince ourselves that we need six to seven figures to live. But that is more than “daily bread.” Daily bread leaves the world in balance where every life has enough to live healthy and whole. Daily bread ensures that no one go hungry. Daily bread feeds all humanity with fairness and equity. 

Then, we acknowledge that gratitude does not always come easily. “Debts” is an intentional word, as Matthew recorded Jesus’ prayer (Mt. 6:12)—we are indebted to God for life itself. Yet, God graciously never requires recompense for that debt. Yet we know how often we do. We recall and name every slight, every act, and every word that deserves recompense. We forget that the simple act of breathing is a gift we can never repay. We so readily take the daily bread offered, but so rarely offer thanks for it. We assume we deserve it. We assume we made our own sustenance. I didn’t grow a single thing I ate today. I am grateful for all who do. I know where my bread comes from. So how can I begrudge anything that I give to someone else? It wasn’t mine to begin with! So, for all the ways I assert myself over others, I ask mercy. For all the ways, I separate myself from others because of presumed privilege, I ask mercy. How else can I possible ask for grace from God without being gracious myself?

Oh, but temptation is oh so real. There is great debate over exactly what Jesus meant with this petition, but I think it pretty clear—we are all tempted by whatever will make us the one in control of whatever is before us. All temptation is about gratification, and the most powerful gratification of all is knowing we controlled a context completely, top to bottom, and everyone in it. But such temptation is always false and empty. Remember where the prayer started—there is only One in control and we are not that One and never will be. So, we circle back, and ask God to put us in our place. 

And in so doing, God redeems us. God delivers us from evil. And evil is no less and no more than our own selfish wills. In short, we ask that God keep our vision clear, priorities correct, and perspective proper. God is God, and we are not, thanks be to God. Save us from ourselves, O Lord!

So, of course, the prayer ends with thunderous praise. God responds. God draws near. God saves. All shall be well.

Now at long last, we are ready to consider James’ counsel to his congregation to pray for each other always.

My thought is that James assumed his congregation knew the Lord’s Prayer. Jesus’ sayings began circulating among the churches almost as soon as Paul and the other apostles began founding them. It seems fairly certain this prayer was an early piece of the liturgy. So, assuming this to be the case, James asks his congregation to turn their prayers outward away from their own lives to cover the lives of their neighbors.

To pray for another is to take their life into your own. Their concerns become your concerns. Their needs become your needs. Their person becomes your concern. We call that “empathy,” and prayer for others is one of the purest forms of empathy there can be.

It is also a sure and certain by which to ensure our prayers match God’s own self-emptying compassion because we are no longer the central focus, but someone else. We seek their benefit, their hope, their redemption, and their fulfillment, regardless of what we might get—in fact, that becomes totally irrelevant. 

Instead, we see that what we need is also what someone else needs. And in that recognition comes the possibility of peace because we see what binds us together instead of what separates us, or leads us to compete with one another. We see our mutuality. We see our commonality. We see our interdependence. We see we truly need one another. 

That is the foundation for community. It mitigates the impulses toward conflict, tempering our own selves so we might all flourish. We realize that what we have is meant to be shared. We recognize that we live by the grace of others, so we share what we receive. 

Prayer, then, becomes the avenue through which we enter the love and presence of God who is love. We connect. We delve deeply into the being of God. We connect to one another as fellow travelers. That is the connection that saves and makes life livable.