With Jesus in Prayer School

Part 1

At the heart of Christianity lies the gift of a personal two-way relationship with the living God in which he speaks to us through his word and we speak to him in prayer. Knowing God is the chief business of life.  

    The chief work of life is likely to be different: as a mother, teacher, carer, businessperson and so on. But the chief business of life is knowing God.  

    It is the greatest imaginable privilege.  Indeed, it would probably have never entered our heads that such a thing was possible.  Until we encountered the Lord Jesus. 

     The daily reality, however, is that Christians often struggle with engaging with God both in his word and in prayer.  Perhaps especially with prayer.  We struggle with both the theory (does it really work? why are my prayers not answered? why pray when according to Jesus God already knows what I need anyway?) and with the practice (what should I say?  why does my mind seem to wander all the time?  how can I factor prayer into an already too busy life?). 

    To help us, let’s join Jesus and his disciples in prayer school

    ‘One day Jesus was praying in a certain place.  When he finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples.”  He said to them, “When you pray, say: “’Father, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come.  Give us each day our daily bread.  Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us.  And lead us not into temptation.’” (Luke 11:1-4)

    Before considering the details of what Jesus taught his disciples to pray, let’s notice the context Luke provides: Jesus was praying. Somewhere.  

    We aren’t told where.  The exact location obviously doesn’t matter. Luke has already told us (5:16) that Jesus often withdrew to deserted places and prayed.  And now once more he was praying.  Somewhere.

    Witnessing him praying (again!) finally provoked his disciples to ask him to teach them how to do the same.  

    And perhaps this is the way it most often should be: that the desire to learn how to pray is fed more by example than it is by being told we should! 

    That’s certainly the way it worked for me.  That occasion when as a boy I just happened to come across my dad on his knees during his lunch break.  The morning I caught my mum sitting praying in her kitchen chair as she waited for the bread to finish baking.  It wasn’t performative.  They weren’t like the religious, both of Jesus’ day and our own, who love to be seen and heard.  Quietly, privately, in the context of daily living, somewhere, anywhere, taking time to talk with their Lord.  

    Later, as a sixteen year old, it was the example of a student friend of my brother, who, thanks to the hospitality of my parents was staying our home house, who after talking to me about what my ideas and hopes for the future, prayed with me.  And then did what no other visitor to our home had done before: he invited me to pray aloud with him.   

    Perhaps prayer is better caught than taught?  Better encouraged by example than by precept?  If that is true, might anyone somewhere catch me praying?