In response to yesterday’s post — the one wherein I asked you to help me define prayer — Royce Ogle wrote this:

Prayer and answers to prayer are linked together like hydrogen and oxygen are in water. Any teaching on prayer that does not include specific answers to specific requests is not wholly biblical. Prayer in the Bible is simply asking. It is no more complicated than that.

Now, I have a ton of respect for Royce, and I believe his comment has a lot of merit. But my spidey-sense tingles whenever I hear anyone say, “It is no more complicated than that.” Maybe he’s just reiterating what Karl Barth once wrote:

It is the fact that [a man] comes before God with his petition which makes him a praying man. Other theories of prayer may be richly and profoundly thought out and may sound very well, but they all suffer from a certain artificiality because they miss the simple and concrete fact, losing themselves in the heights and depths where there is no place for a man who really prays, who is simply making a request.

I don’t remember my first prayer, but I remember certain “authorized” phrases:

Guide, guard and direct us.

Bring us back at the next appointed hour.

May we do this in a manner well-pleasing in Thy sight.

Bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies.

I grew up in a church that did not believe God still did miracles, but we’d gather together for church potlucks, load our plates down with fatty, fried foods and ask God to somehow transform the contents into something nourishing.

No one ever taught me how to pray. I just sort of picked it up as I went along. I don’t remember praying any of those kid’s prayers: “Now I lay me down to sleep” or any of that. As I look back now, I realize that prayer was mostly asking for stuff…and it was mostly about me. Bless me. Help me. Keep me. Give me.

That kind of praying puts you in a tough spot. If you get what you want, then prayer works. If you don’t get what you want, then what? Did I get the sequence wrong? I put the change in the slot, pressed the button and nothing came out. Did God eat my quarter?!

When that happens, some people actually quit praying. I remember a woman in a church where I served. There was a member there battling cancer, and someone arranged a 24-hour prayer vigil. One woman actually said, “Oh, you don’t think I’m going to participate in that, do you? We did that for my husband, and he still died. That stuff doesn’t work.”

I could hear the sadness and the anger behind her words, and it frightened me. I knew what she meant, and I knew she had a valid point.

Still, I’m too religious (or maybe superstitious) to stop praying. I may not be altogether convinced that it works every time, but what if it works this time? Maybe it’s every other request or some other intricate pattern.

For lots of folks, prayer is a good luck charm. How it works or why it works — who knows? But it’s better to have it close by just in case.

One other thing that’s really confusing: Have you ever noticed that God will sometimes answer a small prayer and ignore a large one? I remember having a friend who went without a job for a long time. We prayed and prayed and prayed and nothing happened. But my wife will ask God to help her find her keys, and it always works! Ask God to heal your sick mother, and she might still get worse. Ask him to cure AIDS or end world hunger, and nothing happens. Ask him to help you get a parking spot near the front of the mall, and lo and behold!

What are we to make of all this? Is there some hidden secret? I’ve heard it said that people in wheelchairs are there because they just don’t have enough faith to stand up and walk. That can’t be right, can it? Is it just about saying the right words in the right way with the right feeling?

Here’s a question: What if none of this is the point of prayer to begin with? What if it’s not about trying to get God to do stuff? Or what if that’s just one tiny part of prayer? How tragic would it be to spend your entire life thinking that one tiny part of prayer was all there was to it?

So, I’ve been talking about prayer a bit lately on the old, blog. But my friend Iz has an interesting question, and I’d love to hear your take on it. He writes:

What is prayer? I mean we say we pray through headlines (20 minutes?) or on the morning run (45 min) ? but Jesus spent the night in prayer. asking the Spirit to teach me more about communion with the trinity…maybe this is prayer ? I know my prayers have far too much talking and rarely enough listening.

Jesus did spend the night in prayer — a couple of times that we know of. The Apostle Paul told the early Christians that they ought to “pray without ceasing”. Typically, prayers — especially public prayers — involve one-way communication. One person stands and talks to God — telling him a bunch of stuff he already knows. When someone gets asked to “say the prayer”, they’re not being asked to listen for God’s side of the conversation, are they?

So, what is prayer really?

I like routine. I go through the same routine most mornings. Wake up. Check facebook. Pray through headlines of various newspapers. Check email. Start writing. Aim for 1,000 words or so. Break for lunch. Repeat.

That keeps me at about 2,000 words per day. Not real glamorous or sexy. But it’s worked for me so far, so I’ll probably keep doing it.

When I was preaching, I always aim to be done with my talking points by Wednesday at noon. I spend Thursday refining and memorizing. I take Fridays off. Saturday night I make sure I can remember my opening story and the transitions. I actually tell myself the opening story in the shower on Sunday morning.

I drink two cups of coffee per day. I had been in the habit of going to the gym at 10:30am until the book sort of took over.

My point is, I like routines. I find them comforting. And I’m a little bit obsessive-compulsive. I don’t wash my hands 20 times per day, but I have my little patterns that help me cope with the irregularities that inevitably surface in this life.

And that leads me back to the topic I opened up about recently: prayer.

I just mentioned that I pray through the headlines of various newspapers (should I say “news sources” since I only read them online?). For years now it has also been my practice to pray while in the shower. Sorry for any distasteful visual imagery, but it’s the one place I’ve found that consistently connects me to God.

What about you? Do you have a specific place where you pray? Is location an important part of prayer?

I’m assuming you pray. After all, studies have been done (and I could cite statistics if I weren’t too lazy to do the research right now) that show virtually everyone prays now and then. But you’re reading this blog which means you’re probably a Christian. You probably go to church and do other Christian things, and I’m willing to bet you pray.

But I have some questions.

Prayer changed for me a while back. It went from being a set time with a start (“Dear Heavenly Father”) and a finish (“In Jesus’ Name…Amen”) and became more of a running conversation. I don’t mean to give you the impression that I’ve ever heard God speak in an audible voice. But God spoke to me, nonetheless. He spoke in quiet ways. He spoke quite loudly on a very few occasions. Usually, he was subtle and soft-spoken, but I can tell you this: I had a conversational relationship with God for a while.

And then it stopped.

And I mean stopped.

Now, prayer feels like dropping stones from a bridge and waiting to hear them land in the water…and waiting…and waiting…and…nothing….

Professional Christians like me love to tell stories of when prayer works. Someone prayed for something very specifically, and — miracle of miracles — they got exactly what they asked for. Or someone prayed for protection and peace, but things got kind of dicey and they were scared, but when they remembered that prayer they were flooded with a sense of calm that could only be explained as “supernatural” and then things worked out after all!

We love stories like that.

We don’t tell many stories of when someone prayed and got nothing in return.

So, let’s open up this can of worms with a few questions, shall we?

When you pray, what do you pray for?

Perhaps a more foundational question is this: Why pray at all?

I believe it matters where a person goes to church. I know that terminology is considered clunky and inaccurate in many circles, but I trust you all understand what I mean. It makes a difference which congregation you join. Churches, like people, have distinctive personalities. Hang around with this church, and they’ll influence you in this way. Hang around with that church, and they’ll steer you in that direction.

The Obama family has an interesting choice this week: Where will they attend Easter services?

This will probably be an indication of which church in the DC-area will be there default church home for the next few years. And, as I said, I believe it matters. Will they go High Church and WASPy? Will they identify with one of the many vibrant and healthy African-American churches there? Will they choose someplace theologically liberal (as they did in Chicago) or more biblically conservative?

These things matter, and I believe it’s important to pray for them as they make this decision.

And…think of this…pray for whoever it is who will be preaching there this Sunday. Words matter, and our current President has a good appreciation for the power of rhetorical speech. There will be a lot of pressure placed on the shoulders of the Presidential Preacher.

I’ve preached for some impressive and important people before. I’ve spoken for churches filled with powerful and wealthy, influential folks. And I’ve asked those people to do some difficult things. I’ve challenged them to become more generous, to value life, to be truthful and ethical, to demonstrate their love for God and others in practical ways.

But I’ve never preached for the Leader of the Free World.

Think of what might happen. Then pray for the President. And pray for the President’s Preacher.

Would you rather get everything you ask for in prayer or get to know God better than you do now?

Your current prayer life reveals your true priority.

Most of you know that I love to read. And I’ve got a pretty good library in my home office.

Still, I’m always on the lookout for more great books, so here’s your chance to make some recommendations. What are your favorite books on the subject of prayer?

I’ll start with two of mine:

Hearing God: Developing a Conversational Relationship With God by Dallas Willard

Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer by C.S. Lewis

“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.’”

This version of the Lord’s Prayer comes from Luke 11. If Jesus wanted us to pray his exact words from the previous version in Matthew 6, why does he misquote himself here? There are parts missing, and some of the phrases are just different. Doesn’t Jesus know the Lord’s Prayer?

Or maybe it’s not about the specific words.

There are three things — three big themes — in both of them. I think they’re what we’re supposed to concentrate on.

First, declare God’s greatness (“hallowed be your name”).

Second, surrender your will (“your kingdom come”).

Third, acknowledge your dependence (“give us”, “forgive us”, “lead us”).

Too often we want to sing just the first and last stanzas of that song. “God, you’re great and powerful. Now, here’s all the stuff I need.”

But I think the crux of the matter is found in that second stanza — the one about surrendering our will.

That second verse — where you surrender your will and ask for God’s kingdom and agenda to come before your own — that’s where God really shapes you. That’s where real intimacy with your heavenly Father begins.

“This, then, is how you should pray:

“‘Our Father in heaven,

hallowed be your name,

your kingdom come,

your will be done,

on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us today our daily bread.

And forgive us our debts,

as we also have forgiven our debtors.

And lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from the evil one.’”

Anne Lamott has said that there are basically only two prayers that most people pray:

“Help me! Help me! Help me!”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Most of our prayers can be summarized with those two two-word phrases. But when Jesus takes time to teach us how to pray, he says we ought to start with two other words: “Our Father”.

Think through the implications of just those two words.

“Our” — I’m not an only child. God is not merely my Father; he’s our Father.

“Father” — I’m not an orphan. God’s not just way out there beyond the azure blue concealed from human sight. He’s right here. He’s invited me into an intimate relationship with him. He’s not content to remain at a distance. He’s a loving Father.

Our Father.

So much depth contained in those two words. Here’s a challenge for you: This weekend, pray these two words. Pray them over and over — not in a “vain repetition” sort of way. Concentrate on them. Meditate on them. Focus more on who God is than on what he can do or has done. See what happens when you pray two words at a time: Our Father.