How Not to Pray

By Ted Georgian

The Lord’s Prayer is recorded twice in the Gospels, in Matthew 6 and Luke 11. In Matthew’s account the Lord’s Prayer is part of a section in which Jesus teaches about core spiritual disciplines: giving to the poor, prayer, and fasting. He begins by warning his disciples not to pray as hypocrites or as the Gentiles do. Instead, pray as children of a heavenly Father. I’m approaching this text in a rather odd way, using three negatives. But I’m counting on you to turn them into positive lessons on prayer.

I. Don’t pray like a hypocrite

“When you pray,” Jesus told his disciples in Matthew 6:5, “do not be like the hypocrites…” He then painted a word picture that his listeners would have found very familiar, although it seems odd to us, of Jewish men standing up in the Synagogue and even on the street corners, praying aloud. At this point in Jewish history, prayer had become highly formalized. There were established times of prayer (you’ll remember this from the story of Daniel, over 500 years before). The Jews had formal prayers for every occasion. A commentator, Robert Deffinbaugh, says that “in spite of what no doubt began with noble aspirations, prayer [had] deteriorated to a mere ritual. Lest we become too critical, let us think of some of our meal-time prayers.” It’s an old joke to have someone, when asked to “say grace” before a meal, say just that – “grace”, and dig in. But many of our blessings before eating are almost as formal and thoughtless. Jesus is not just warning us against prayers that are formal and thoughtless. His real targets are those who pray in order “to be seen by men.” Deffinbaugh helps us understand how the Jews fell into the trap of praying for the approval of men: a Jewish man would be going about his daily affairs and “suddenly realize that the time of prayer was at hand. Either he would fail to fulfill his obligation or he must do it right where he was. If he was in the marketplace or on the street corner, he would simply stand there and pray.” So far, so good. But then others present might “nod to one another, noting this man’s devotion to his religious duties,” and that sort of praise, overheard or even surmised, always pleases our self-centered hearts. Then the slippery slide into hypocrisy begins: “One would [just happen to] ‘find’ himself in a public place at the appointed time for prayer, and so the purpose of the prayers would subtly change, from a religious activity to one that promotes one’s status with one’s peers.” The word “hypocrite” that Jesus used referred to actors in Greek plays who often appeared on stage in a mask. Hypocrisy is playing to an audience while hiding who we are in reality. And, let’s admit it, we’re all hypocrites. There’s a story that a woman ran into Robert Redford in a hotel lobby and asked him, with great excitement, “Are you the real Robert Redford?” “Only when I’m alone,” he replied, as he disappeared into the elevator. We’re all like that – we carefully edit our thoughts and lives, letting others see only what we think will please or impress them. As Mark Twain said, “We’re all like the moon – we have a dark side that we don’t want anyone else to see.” This putting on of a mask, this hiding of our true selves, may be a social necessity at times, but it is deadly when carried into our relationship with God. We make two mistakes when we pray hypocritically: first, we use our religion to impress our peers, and second, we misunderstand what sort of religious practice pleases God. While the first mistake is the more obvious, it’s the second, our misunderstanding of what pleases God, that is the most fatal. Jesus’ teaching on prayer comes in the middle of a section of the Sermon on the Mount in which he warned against hypocrisy in any part of our religious practice: verses 1-4 talk about doing good deeds to impress others, 5-8 address prayer, and 16-18 deal with fasting. The point throughout is plain: those who practice the Christian religion in order to impress others have totally missed the point. When we pray in order to be seen by others, we demonstrate that we’ve misunderstood or forgotten two key points. First, humans are easily deceived and their approval is short-lived and fickle. Not so our God, who is all-seeing and all-knowing. As Jesus put it, we are praying to a God “who sees what is done in secret.” How in the world do we manage to forget this? You remember the story of God sending the prophet Samuel to Bethlehem to look for a king to replace Saul (I Sam. 16). Seven of the sons of Jesse appeared before him, strong and tall young men, and each time Samuel thought, “Surely this is the one the Lord has chosen.”But it wasn’t any of them. God said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” That’s the God who is listens in secret when we pray. In Luke 11:1-3, Jesus warned his disciples to "Be on your guard against the yeast of the Pharisees, which is hypocrisy.” Then he said, “There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. What you have said in the dark will be heard in the daylight, and what you have whispered in the ear in the inner rooms will be proclaimed from the rooftops.” How would we like to have a loud speaker hooked up to our brains while we pray, with our true thoughts broadcast for everyone to hear? It reminds me of the public fuss that occurs every now and then when a politician says something honest out loud, not realizing that a nearby microphone is on. Children, with their candor and lack of social polish, often do the same. There’s a story about a mother who asked her 4-year old son to return thanks one blistering hot day when they had guests for dinner. “But I don’t know what to say!” the boy complained. “Oh, just say what you hear me say” his mother replied. Obediently the boy bowed his head and mumbled, “Oh Lord, why did I invite these people over on a hot day like this?” I’m painfully aware of the temptation toward hypocrisy: when I was a young teenager, I made a profession of faith and joined the church, even though I knew I didn’t have true faith, in order to please my parents and perhaps just to avoid “rocking the boat.” Even after my conversion, while I believe that God the Spirit has made me a true child of God, I still struggle with the temptation to put on a show of religion. To make my spiritual life look better than it is in reality. Perhaps we all tend to do this: there’s an old joke about a man who said to a pastor, “I’d never join your church – it’s full of hypocrites.” “Oh, not quite full,” replied the pastor. “There’s always room for one more!” How, at a practical level, can we combat this tendency to pay more attention to people, whom we see, than to God,who sees us but who is “in secret”? Philip Ryken, in his book on the Lord’s Prayer, suggests an “iceberg” rule for our prayers. Icebergs are slightly less dense than water, so they float with 90% of their volume under water and 10% sticking up. Our prayers should be the same: 90% of our prayers should be in private, just us and God. That 90% will support and give reality to our public prayers. But there’s a second, even deeper thing that we forget when we direct our prayers to people rather than to God: we forget the reason for prayer in the first place. Prayer is not meant to be a religious show, or even a religious duty. It’s central purpose and meaning is to put us in touch with God. I think that this is the “reward” that Jesus spoke of in verses 5-6 of the Matthew 6. I sometimes find myself putting off prayer, puttering and doing other things, and then when I do get down to it, the experience is wonderful. Have you experienced that intimacy with God, that wonderful knowledge that he’s with you and listening, covering you with his love as you pray? If we’ve known that sort of prayer, why would we ever go back to praying just for other people to hear?

II. Don’t pray like a Gentile

In the next verse of Matthew 6, Jesus warns us not to pray “as the Gentiles do." At the time Gentiles were the godless ones who did not know the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob revealed in the Scriptures. The way that such people pray reveals the sort of god they believe in – a god a lot like themselves. Their god is a busy god, occupied with his own problems and affairs, and inclined to ignore them unless they kick up a real fuss. If you’ve ever watched a young parent trying to care for a baby and shop for groceries, simultaneously, while a 3-year old whines and cries for candy, you’ve got the picture. If you imagine God like that, Jesus says, you’re inclined to “heap up empty phrases” or “babble” when you pray. Pagans pray to a god they know doesn’t really care about them, but they think somehow that “they will be heard for their many words.” It’s like a nest full of baby birds, each certain that their parents will forget to feed them unless they open their mouths wide and make as much noise as possible. Over and over again. It reminds me of the priests of Baal, in I Kings 18. “And they took the bull that was given them, and they prepared it and called upon the name of Baal from morning until noon, saying, ‘O Baal, answer us.’” That’s their prayer, over and over again. Don’t you hate it when someone steps up to a mic’ and says, “Testing, testing, testing, testing…”? But this babbling went on for hours. Then, with great humor, Elijah steps in with some ‘helpful advice’: maybe your god is thinking, or traveling, or perhaps he’s asleep. So, they cry louder. Contrast all that racket with Elijah’s simple prayer in verses 36-37: O LORD, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, let it be known this day that you are God in Israel, and that I am your servant, and that I have done all these things at your word. Answer me, O LORD, answer me, that this people may know that you, O LORD, are God, and that you have turned their hearts back. Why the difference? Elijah knows who he’s praying to. Not a pagan’s god, formed in the image of man, but the Sovereign God, the great “I am.” He’s the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, a God who has made covenant promises to his people and will keep them. Don’t pray like a gentile. Pray to a God you know, a God who has revealed himself in the Scriptures, a God of covenant faithfulness. Pray like someone who knows the God of all power.

III. Don’t pray like an orphan

My final point is from Ryken’s book as well. He bases the idea on Matthew 6: 8, where Jesus says, “for your Father knows what you need.” Not only do we pray to an all-knowing and all-powerful God, we are also encouraged to consider him our Father. The Old Testament almost never refers to God as father. Fourteen times in about 1200 pages. Yet Jesus spoke constantly of God as our Father – 10 times in the first 18 verses of Matthew 6 alone. Jesus wants us to think about who we’re praying to: a loving Father who knows what we need before we even ask, because he knows all that ever was or ever will be. It’s like this business of Christmas lists. They certainly help with distant aunts and uncles, who might otherwise send Big Bird pajamas to a 12-year old. But Christmas lists for loving parents, who were paying close attention while you were ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ over your friend’s 21-speed, alloy frame mountain bike? No need to tell them what you want for Christmas. The message of Jesus is that God considers us not just citizens or servants, but beloved daughters and sons. John tells us this early in his Gospel (1:11-13): He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God. In Reformed theology this idea is called the “doctrine of adoption.” The Westminster Confession of Faith, chapter 12, describes adoption as an act of the grace whereby all who are justified by the work of Jesus Christ are taken into the number, and enjoy the liberties and privileges of the children of God; have His name put upon them; receive the Spirit of adoption; have access to the throne of grace with boldness; are enabled to cry, Abba, Father; are pitied, protected, provided for, and chastened by Him as by a Father; yet never cast off, but sealed to the day of redemption, and inherit the promises, as heirs of everlasting salvation. These are powerful promises to all who have received the Gospel of Jesus Christ in faith.

Now, some have been ignored or even abused by their fathers, and many today are growing up without a father at home. They need to understand that we are praying not to that sort of father, but to a heavenly Father. If you know that heavenly Father, don’t pray like you’re an orphan – pray to a Father who loves you more than you can imagine. We should have great confidence in our prayers, then. We don’t have to persuade God to answer them – he already knows what we need before we ask and is anxious to give us all good things. We pray not to a distant king or bureaucrat but to a loving Father. And we know that the oldest Son, Jesus, has won for us the right to call God our Father (to call him “Daddy,” as a matter of fact, Paul says in Romans 8). He’s busy praying with us and for us. As you pray this week, don’t pray like a hypocrite or a pagan; and remember that you’re not an orphan. Invest time in your relationship with God; spend time in private with him. The promise is that your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.

-Ted Georgian

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