Prayer Resolutions
resolutions: prayer
Jason Procopio
We’re starting this year in a short series called “Resolutions”. In this series we’re looking at what we often call the “spiritual disciplines”. Simply put, the spiritual disciplines are those practices—like reading the Bible and prayer—which God gives us to help us grow in him.
Last week we spoke simply about the Bible. We saw that God gave us a goal for our Christian lives, and he gives us his Word as the primary means to help us get there. But this relationship isn’t purely utilitarian; God doesn’t give us his Word just to get us to a goal. Instead, he establishes a relationship with us—that of a Father with his adopted children—and he gives us the Bible as (among other things) one the main means of nourishing the Father-to-children relationship he has with us.
But on its own, it is incomplete. If the Bible is one side of the coin, prayer is the other. Prayer isn’t simply utilitarian either. It is our side of the exchange which feeds our relationship with God. That’s why this message is the second part of a two-parter. The first part, we saw last week; the second part is today.
Those of you who are like me probably listened last week and accepted it all pretty easily. I don’t really have a hard time reading the Bible, because I love to read in general, so falling into the Bible comes fairly easily. Where people like me get tripped up is very often the other side of the coin: it’s prayer.
Hearing the Word is one thing; responding to the Word is another.
Every time we open the Bible to read, we are faced with the most glorious truths imaginable. We come to know about the God who created us and sustains us. But he doesn’t teach us the same thing every time; again, his Word is not purely utilitarian. He gives us his Word, not mainly to give us what we need for today, but to allow us to know him, over the whole course of our lives.
So how does that happen? But how do we go from knowing about God to knowing God? How do we go from understanding what we read in the Word to feeling it in our guts? How do we go from knowledge to conviction?
God uses a lot of means to help this happen, but I would argue that God gives us two main ways.
The first is his Word, in which he speaks to us.
The second is prayer, in which we respond to him.
There are many others, including all the other spiritual disciplines we’re going to see in this series. But it starts with these two, and these two must go together—you can’t rightly read the Word without prayer, and you can’t rightly pray without the Word.
So we’re going to do something a little atypical today. I have basically one point for this entire message. So we’re going to look at that point and go back over something we saw a few months ago in the Sermon on the Mount; then after the break, I’d like us to take everything we saw in the first half, and put it in action through a couple of case studies.
Prayer Is for Knowing God (Matthew 6.9-13)
There are always three questions we want to ask when we come to the subject of prayer: What is prayer? How do we pray? Why do we pray?
The first question is easy. What is prayer? Prayer is talking to God. That’s it.
The second question is a little more complex. A lot of people will teach a three-point schema for every prayer, saying that prayer is adoration, thanksgiving and intercession. (Adoration is when we worship God for who he is; thanksgiving is when we thank God for who he is and for what he has done; intercession is when we ask God to do something because only he can.)
That explanation is very helpful—in nearly every prayer you see in the Bible, you’ll see some element of all of these, and we should use Scripture to help us know how to pray—but it can also be limiting. God never told us that if we speak to him and don’t include one of these elements, then it doesn’t count. It can also be limiting because it can tend to reduce prayer to a checklist. Adoration, check; thanksgiving, check; intercession, check. Good—done playing, now I can do something more fun.
We should think about how to pray; we should want to learn how to pray better. But I’d like to suggest that even more important than how we pray is why we pray.
If we’re clear on why we pray, we won’t have to push ourselves to learn to pray better. It won’t be a chore. If we understand why we pray, we’ll want to pray; we’ll want to learn how.
But if we’re not clear on why we pray, we leave one of the two most essential tools for the Christian life in our toolbox, collecting dust.
So I’m going to give a basic, foundational statement for why we pray, and then I’ll explain why I believe it. We can pray for a lot of things, and all of those things can be good. But underneath every individual prayer that we can pray or read in the Bible, there is a foundational reason why prayer exists in the first place, and it is this.
Prayer is not about getting things from God or saying things to God; prayer is about knowing God.
Let me give you an example of why I believe this. Open your Bibles to Matthew chapter 6. We saw this text just a few months ago, in the Sermon on the Mount, so we’ll have to do a bit of a recap.
In Matthew 6.9-13, Jesus gives what is often called “the Lord’s Prayer.” It is Jesus, teaching his disciples how to pray. Let’s read those verses together:
9 Pray then like this:
“Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
10 Your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
11 Give us this day our daily bread,
12 and forgive us our debts,
as we also have forgiven our debtors.
13 And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
So there are seven basic requests Jesus gives us in this prayer. The first three are entirely focused on God himself (hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done…), and the last four are requests for our needs (daily bread, forgiveness, protection from temptation and evil).
During our series on the Sermon on the Mount, we saw that Jesus did not give us the Lord’s Prayer simply to give us something to say when we pray: he’s telling us what we need more than anything else. And every one of these requests—even those which deal with our needs—is focused on God. The first three are requests that God would show himself as God in the universe he created; and the last four are requests that he would show himself as God in our individual lives. How? By giving us what we truly need, and what only he can give.
Every last point of this prayer teaches us who God is and what he is like—in himself, and in relationship to us. This prayer is not mainly about getting the things we need, but about knowing who God is and what he is like.
If you’re not convinced yet, look at the context. In the verses that come just before the Lord’s prayer, Jesus is telling his disciples not to pray like those who don’t know God, using mantras and catchphrases and imagining that if they just say the right thing, God will listen to them and give them what they need.
Why does he tell them not to do that? Because God’s not that kind of God. V. 8: Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. God is a wise God, who knows better than you do how to take care of you; and God is a good God, who will always and only give you what you need.
So he’s saying, come to God in prayer as he is.
Now obviously we’d like to do that, but what if we don’t know what God is like? Or what if we do know, but we don’t quite believe it?
Well, that’s why he gives us a prayer to pray, and not just a theology lesson. Jesus teaches us how to pray in order to give us a means of reforming our hearts to desire the right things. He teaches us to pray that we might learn what God loves, and train our hearts with the help of his Spirit to love the same things ourselves.
You see, once again, Christ invites us into this unthinkable, paternal relationship with the Father, and in that relationship, as we pursue that relationship, God convinces us that he really is a good Father. That he really does love what is lovely. That he really does take care of his children. That he really does love his children. That he really does deserve glory.
It’s one thing to read those things on a page, to read the Lord’s prayer on the page. But that’s not what Jesus tells us to do. He doesn’t tell us to read the Lord’s Prayer; he tells us to pray the Lord’s Prayer: Pray then like this, he says. It is as we pray that we learn through the prayer Jesus taught us what our Father in heaven is like.
To put it simply, God changes our hearts through the conversations we have. As we listen to what he says in his Word, and as we respond to what he says—not by talking about the weather or our favorite TV show (though we can do that), but by talking about him.
Jesus gives us this prayer, not so that God might provide for our needs, or forgive our sin, or protect us from temptation. He gives us this prayer that we might come to know—not just in our heads but in our guts—who our Father in heaven is, and what he is like.
The point is this: God gives us the Bible to teach us to pray; and he teaches us to pray in order to help us know our God in our hearts as well as our heads. That’s how this relationship begins; if our Christian lives are a building that God is construction, the Word of God and prayer are the foundation which holds the whole thing up. The things we do in our Christian lives don’t stop here, but they always start here.
Case Studies (Psalm 103.1-14, Romans 8.31-39)
So—God gives us the Bible to teach us to pray; and he teaches us to pray in order to help us know our God here (guts), and not just here (head). To not just know about him, but to know him.
That is why I believe that the most important element of prayer should always be the Bible—that’s where we go to learn how to pray. A lot of people get the cart before the horse here. They pray as if their goal is to tell God about them—about what they want and what they need and what they feel. Or when they pray, they’ll talk to God about himself, but because they don’t pray with the Bible, what they say about God is so vague as to be useless, or actually, objectively wrong.
God delights in us anytime we speak to him, no matter how limited or self-centered our prayers might be—but that kind of prayer doesn’t do us much good. It won’t get us very far. If the goal of prayer is to know God, our usual, self-centered prayers will get us no closer to that goal.
We need the Bible for that.
So I’d like to simply talk about how we do that, in two case studies. For the first, I’d like us to go to Psalm 103.
While you’re finding it, let me just say that we all know how to do this. It’s not completely natural, but it’s not something that takes a lot of work. We do this all the time, in discussion with other people. One person says one thing, and you want to make sure you understood correctly, so what do you do? You reformulate what they said, to make sure you’re both on the same page. It clarifies things, and it helps you understand the other person better by putting it in your own words.
Praying the Bible is very similar. We go to a passage of Scripture, and we pray it back to God, reformulating it to help ourselves feel it differently, because we’re saying it in our own words.
As I was thinking about which examples to give today, I thought about the conversation I had with that brother I mentioned earlier—because I know he is far from the only person in this room who has had that experience. I know many of you have difficult relationships with your fathers.
So for our examples, I want to look at two texts that we can pray to help us train our hearts to know that our Father in heaven is a good Father—not just a good Father, a perfect Father: the Father that even the best dads in the world can’t come near.
So the first example: Psalm 103.1-14.
We start by doing what we saw last week: by reading the Word. We ask God to help us realize that as we reading, that’s the voice of our Father, speaking to us. (That’s what we saw last week.)
Then we read. And as we read, we don’t just read: we pay attention. We take note of what God says about himself, what he says about us. And we think about it. We reflect on it.
You can do this however you want—I underline things and make notes in the margins of my Bible to help—but it is helpful to take some kind of note, to clarify your thoughts.
1 Bless the Lord, O my soul,
and all that is within me,
bless his holy name!
So David isn’t just writing a song; he’s encouraging his own soul to bless God, when it might not want to. And he doesn’t just want to praise God with his mouth or with his mind; he wants to praise God with everything in him.
2 Bless the Lord, O my soul,
and forget not all his benefits,
3 who forgives all your iniquity,
who heals all your diseases,
4 who redeems your life from the pit,
who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy,
5 who satisfies you with good
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
Our Father forgives us, even though we don’t deserve it. Our Father preserves us, healing us from sickness in this life, and when he decides to take us to himself, he gives us perfect healing and eternal life in him. He pulls us up from the darkness in which we found ourselves, and crowns us with faithful love and mercy: he adopts us as his children and treats us as his sons and daughters. Our Father gives us good things, and whatever our Father gives us is good; when we know that what we have is good (no matter how it may feel), we are renewed, invigorated, refreshed. When you know that everything you are getting is a treasure, you see the things you have in a different way.
6 The Lord works righteousness
and justice for all who are oppressed.
7 He made known his ways to Moses,
his acts to the people of Israel.
Our Father’s heart is peace for the hurting and justice for the oppressed; and we know this, because this is how we see him deal with his own people in the Old Testament. When they are oppressed, he fights for them. When they are hungry, he feeds them. When they are lost, he guides them. It is the same for us.
8 The Lord is merciful and gracious,
slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
9 He will not always chide,
nor will he keep his anger forever.
10 He does not deal with us according to our sins,
nor repay us according to our iniquities.
Our Father knows what we deserve, but that’s not what he gives us. We deserve punishment for our sin. We deserve wrath for our rebellion against him. But God’s wrath is slow, and it is not forever. He doesn’t base his treatment of us on what we do, but rather on who he is: slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.
11 For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
12 as far as the east is from the west,
so far does he remove our transgressions from us.
13 As a father shows compassion to his children,
so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him.
14 For he knows our frame;
he remembers that we are dust.
Our sins, which kept us from our Father’s love, are gone. They were placed on Christ, who was punished for those sins, and on the cross, they died with him. Our sins could not possibly be farther from us than they are right now—as far as east is from west. And why? Because he considers us his children. He knows who we are; he knows that we are in need of him; and as a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him.
So you see? All that is just reading and taking note of what the text says.
Now, we could simply close the Bible and say, “That was good.” (It’s hard for us to feel any different about Psalm 103.)
But we don’t stop there. We take all those things we saw, and we go back over them. We ask God to help us. (Don’t close your eyes; follow along with me in the text.)
Lord, I want my soul to praise you, to bless you, even when I don’t feel like it. I want everything in me to praise you. Please help me praise you. Help me to praise you for everything you give to me, which I don’t deserve. Thank you for forgiving my sin, for keeping me alive and promising me eternal healing in the new heavens and the new earth. Thank you for pulling me out of the darkness in which you found me, and crowning me with love and mercy. Thank you for the good things you’ve given me; help me to believe that because you are a good Father, the things you give me are really good things.
Thank you for always taking care of your people. Help me to trust that you will always take care of me in the same way. Thank you for your mercy and your grace, which I don’t deserve. You have every reason to be angry, because I have sinned against you. But you are good: your love is steadfast. Thank you for not dealing with me according to my sins. Thank you for removing my sin from me and placing it on your Son. Thank you for punishing my sin on the cross of Christ. Help me to believe that it is finished: that as far as the east is from the west, my sin is that far from me. Thank you for adopting me as your son, and for being my Father, a better Father than my own father could ever be; thank you for the compassion you have shown me, that I only find in you. Thank you for knowing who I am, for knowing that I need help…and for coming to my rescue.
Let’s look at one more example, a shorter one. Go to Romans 8.31-39.
This example is a little different, because the one we saw before was a psalm, and psalms are easy to use as prayers (many of them are actually prayers).
The book of Romans is a letter that Paul wrote to the church in Rome. So he’s not writing a prayer here; he’s teaching the Romans something. But the same principle applies. We read, knowing that even if this is Paul speaking to the Romans, this Scripture is inspired by God and profitable to us, so it is still the voice of our Father, speaking to us. And we take note of what we see—what he says about himself, what he says about us. We think about it. We reflect on it. Let’s read:
31 What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? 33 Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. 34 Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died—more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? 36 As it is written,
“For your sake we are being killed all the day long;
we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.”
37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
We read, we pay attention, and then we go back over them. We ask God to help us.
Let’s pray again:
Lord, as hard as it is for us to believe sometimes, I know that you are for us—and if you are for us, no one can be against us. Help us to believe this is true, to look at what you did to save us. You didn’t spare even your own Son, but gave him up for us; help us to believe that if you would do that, you will absolutely take care of us!
Help us to know and to believe that no one can condemn us—you are the one who declared us righteous! Christ himself, who lived, died and was raised for us, he is praying for us at this very moment! Thank you for sending your Son and listening to his prayers.
Thank you God for this glorious truth that your love is so perfect, so faithful, so complete, that nothing can separate us from it. Let us repeat to ourselves every day that nothing—not tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword, can separate us from your love. Thank you that no matter what comes against us—because these things may well come against us—in these things, we are more than conquerors in you, because you conquered FOR us. Thank you for this glorious truth, and help us to believe with our brother Paul that nothing—neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation—will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Can you see how different this is from just opening the Bible, reading the passage, then closing the Bible again? It takes more time, sure, but can you see how much better that is? How much more enjoyable? it’s not just riding the mechanical horsey at the supermarket; praying Romans 8 is getting on a stallion and galloping through the mountains.
Some texts are a lot harder to pray than others. Story texts are difficult to pray. The books of the Law are hard to pray like we just prayed Romans and the Psalms. But it’s not difficult to take note of what you learned about God in those texts, and pray to God in response to what we learned.
I don’t think I’m overstating it to say that every time we read the Bible, we should be praying it, and every time we pray, we should have the Bible in sight or in mind. (This is why Bible memorization is so helpful.) If we do one without the other, we’re riding the horse at the supermarket: moving, but not going far.
Because the goal, once again, is not getting what we want from God, but knowing the God who gives us everything.
So, brothers and sisters, read the Word, and pray the Word. Don’t just talk: speak to your own hearts through your prayers, as David did, and let the Holy Spirit teach your heart to love the God to whom we pray.
