“He was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught he disciples.’” [Luke 11:1]

It seems a reasonable request, doesn’t it, “teach us to pray.” Yet, when we look at what prayer is the disciples were almost asking Jesus to teach them how to breathe. I know that sounds odd at first, but I think that’s because most of us have a rather formalized understanding of what constitutes prayer. We often think of prayer in the classical definition of the Western Church as “raising the heart and mind to God.” The only problem with that definition is that it separates and sets God off and away from us, when the truth is that God is very close to us. I think that is why I like what the Puritan preacher Thomas Watson wrote, “Prayer is the soul’s breathing itself into the bosom of its heavenly Father.”

What Watson understands is the reality that the only thing that separates us from God is, well, us. If, as we are taught, God is omnipresent – present everywhere – there is nowhere that God is not. We do not so much call God into our midst – as some hymns have it – but rather we open ourselves to the reality of God already present, we make ourselves aware of the reality that God is here, right here and right now. God’s presence is around us like the air that we breathe.

Tell me, did you ever need to learn how to breathe? No. You just do it. In the same way, other than when it’s cold, we can’t see what we breathe, but we know when it’s absent from us. Taking ourselves out of the presence of God, acting as though God is not present to us, that is the spiritual equivalent of putting one of those plastic bags from the cleaners over our heads – and ignoring the warning on the outside not to do it in the process. Prayer is just opening ourselves to realize God’s presence with us – in us, around us and even through us – that should become as comfortable and as natural as breathing.

So that we can better understand prayer – perhaps learn how to breathe again – let’s talk for a moment about what prayer is not. Sometimes it is helpful for us to understand something by understanding what it isn’t, because then we’ll understand what it really is. First, prayer isn’t just saying prayers; it’s not an exercise in rote memorization. While Jesus may have taught the disciples by saying the prayer he does in today’s Gospel lesson, and while it has much to teach us, it’s not designed to just be rattled off. Yet, how many of us come on Sunday morning and go motoring through the prayer and get to the end of it, sit down and aren’t really conscious of what we’ve said?

It was in reaction to that kind of rote prayer that led our Puritan forebears to say “no dumb prayers,” or no rote prayers. They saw the Lord’s Prayer as a great model for prayer, but they would not pray it, because it was the Lord’s and not their prayer. It was Jesus breathing to the Heavenly Father and not them, so they wouldn’t say it.

I was reminded of several stories told by the Hasidic Jews, specifically about the great Rabbi, the Baal Shem Tov. “The Baal Shem said: ‘Imagine a man whose business hounds him through many streets and across the market-place the livelong day. He almost forgets that there is a Maker in the world. Only when the time for the Afternoon Prayer comes, does he remember: “I must pray.” And then, from the bottom of his heart, he heaves a sigh of regret that he has spent his day on vain and idle matters, and he runs into a by-street and stands there, and prays: God hold him dear, very dear and his prayer pierces the firmament.” “A villager, who year after year prayed in the Baal Shem’s House of Prayer in the Days of Awe, had a son who so dull-witted that he could not even grasp the shapes of the letters, let alone the meaning of the holy words. On the Days of Awe his father did not take him to town with him, because he did not understand anything. But when he was thirteen and of age according to the laws of God, his father took him along on the Day of Atonement, for fear the boy might eat on the fast-day simply because he did not know any better. Now the boy had a small whistle which he always blew upon when he sat out in the fields to herd the sheep and the calves. He had taken this with him in the pocket of his smock and his father had not noticed it. Hour after hour, the boy sat in the House of Prayer and had nothing to say. But when the Additional Service was commenced he said: ‘Father, I have my little whistle with me. I want to sing on it.’ The father was greatly perturbed and told him to do no such thing, and the boy restrained himself. But when the Afternoon Service was begun, he said again, ‘Father, do let me blow my little whistle.’ The father became angry and said: ‘Where did you put it?’ And, when the boy told him, he laid his hand on his pocket so that the boy could not take it out. But now the Closing Prayer began. The boy snatched his pocket away from his father’s hand, took out the whistle and blew a loud note. All were frightened and confused. But the Baal Shem went on with the prayer, only more quickly and easily than usual. Later he said: ‘The boy made things easy for me.’” [From Tales of the Hasidim edited and translated by Martin Buber, p. 69-70] A variation on the ending of the story says, “The Bal Shem Tov, who is officiating at the service, tells the congregation that it was this spontaneous ‘blast from the pipe of the babe’ that brought ‘all their prayers to the throne of God before the gates of heaven were closed.’”

What do those little stories teach us about prayer? That it is not about saying the prescribed words. That it is not about knowing the right words. Rather, prayer happens when the heart engages the words, when the heart flows through the words or even through the sighs – as Paul would say in Romans “groans too deep for words” – and those two things together make a connection with God. John Shea commenting on the second story writes, “One message of this simple yet profound tale is that genuine prayer comes from the center of one’s being (symbolized by the shepherd’s pipe). . . .There is a split between who they [those praying] are and what they are saying. The problem is not the inherited Hebrew words themselves, but the disjunction between these words and the interiority of the people using them. The ‘blast from the pipe of the babe’ is a unified action, bringing together inner awareness and outer expression.” [From The Relentless Widow, p. 212] To put it bluntly, it is when heart and head come together in awareness of God’s presence that prayer occurs and oneness, communion, with God is enabled.

Let me take you through a few more negative definitions of prayer. Prayer is not a means to get signs. The scripture tells us again and again that God’s ways are not our ways and that looking for signs is not the way to discern God’s will or God’s way. Prayer is our opening up to God, acknowledging our need for God. Seeking signs turns prayer from worship into manipulation which goes along with yet another negative definition – prayer is not causing God to change because of what we ask. Far too often prayer is reduced to request time or an attempt to tell God how to run the world God has made. I’ve sometimes likened this to turning God in a celestial gumball machine: we put in prayers and out come answers and the things we want. However, that is not the point of prayer, which is thanksgiving and adoration, and not primarily petition. As Soeren Kierkegaard said, “Prayer doesn’t change God; it changes the one who prays.” Our prayer should be about being more and more conformed to God’s will and God’s way – and not our own. When we come to experience communion with God, when we learn to practice the presence, we can “ask…search….knock” with abandon, because we’ll be asking, searching and knocking for the things of God. That’s why Paul tells the Colossians, “As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.”

Prayer can’t be isolated from the activity or the culture in which it is made. John Newton, who wrote Amazing Grace, knelt on the deck of his slave ship everyday to pray. For some odd reason he found prayer unfulfilling. Could it be that looking for the freedom of God while selling other human beings into captivity just might be a contradiction in terms? Let me further add the words of John the Apostle, “Those who say, ‘I love God’, and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen.”

[1 John 4:20] Prayer, our communion with God, emerges from where we are and reflects our situation. That is why sometimes, as I said earlier, all we can manage is a groan, an “Ohhhh Godddd!” and that is enough. After all, as the German mystic Meister Eckhart wrote, “If the only prayer you say in your entire life is ‘Thank You,’ that would suffice.” [Meditations with Meister Eckhart, tr. by Matthew Fox, p. 34]

Now that we know what prayer is not, what is it? Prayer is the practice of the presence of God. Prayer is understanding that God is all around us and that every breath we take, every thing we do, and every thought we think is done in God’s presence. Our Puritan ancestors understood this and tried to live God-like, holy lives by the manner in which they lived each day. What they did here in the meeting house on Sunday was important, indeed they thought it not a good thing to miss (and I wish more of our folks thought like that, but I’m preaching to the choir). However, they understood that it was in the home, the workplace, the school, the places where we shop and socialize that really become places of worship. Holiness, beloved, is to be found in the ordinary. God has spoken God’s Word into our flesh in Jesus Christ so that we could come to that understanding and live that life.

So, how do we learn to breathe again? My favorite definition of prayer comes from a Russian Orthodox bishop and saint, Theophan the Recluse. I’m sure that you’ve heard this from me a ton of times, but repetition is the mother of learning after all. He said that prayer is placing the mind in the heart and then standing/resting there before God. In the wonderful little nineteenth century Russian spiritual book The Way of the Pilgrim we read a method for this prayer: “He opened the book [The Philokalia], found the instruction by St. Simeon the New Theologian, and read: ‘Sit down alone and in silence. Lower your head, shut your eyes, breathe out gently and imagine yourself looking into your own heart. Carry your mind, i.e, your thoughts, from your head to your heart. As you breathe put, say “Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.” Say it moving your lips gently, or simply say it in your mind. Try to put all other thoughts aside. Be calm, be patient, and repeat the process very frequently.” This is sometimes called ‘breath prayer,’ ‘the prayer of the heart,’ or ‘centering prayer’ and the little prayer is called ‘the Jesus Prayer.’ There are many variations or ways of doing this, but it is one way we can come to practice God’s presence.

In a few moments we’re going to take a minute for silent prayer; we do every week and that is a good and holy thing. However, I want to take a few moments now to learn this method of prayer. If it doesn’t work for you, that’s ok, as one wise monk said, “pray as you can, not as you can’t.” However, first try it before you decide it doesn’t work. Now, sit up straight, shoulders back, hands either in your lap or at your sides, head in a comfortable position, and feet flat on the floor. Eyes closed. Take a deep, cleansing breath. Now, consciously focus on placing your mind in your heart – center yourself in God’s presence. One way to say this prayer is to breathe in as you say, “Lord Jesus Christ” and exhale as you say “Have mercy on me.” Good, regular breaths. Now let’s enter into a few moments of silence and then I’ll call us back together. [Allow time for prayer.]

With every breath you take realize that God is with you, that God, who made the heavens and the earth, loves you and wants to share life with you. Breathe in every moment, thought and action of the day and know the truth of what Jesus said: “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” Pray, learn to breathe and to be blessed.