1 Thess. 5:12-22 Luke 11:1-4

“Lord, teach us to pray.” The disciples make this request to Jesus even though they have probably heard him pray often. He did go into the wilderness alone sometimes to pray, but we know he prayed with his companions as well. But they still want to learn from him the rules – perhaps have him tell them the right ways and wrong ways to speak to God.
In Matthew we hear Jesus tell his disciples not to be ostentatious in their praying, but to be private, to go into their closets to pray, but we get little else from Jesus on the how to's of prayer. When the disciples ask him to teach them to pray he offers what we call The Lord's Prayer, which gives us wonderful words, but still no rules. And so often that is what folks seem to ask of me when we speak about prayer. “Is there a right way – or even a wrong way to pray?”

I've been asked if it's OK for Presbyterians to pray a certain way and some have wondered if one way of praying is more acceptable than another. “Should I kneel – stand – sit?” “Will God hear my prayers if I fall asleep in the middle of them?”
All questions about prayer are reasonable and legitimate questions, because there is always concern about getting it right with God and praying is, I believe, the way we are most intimate with God.
And there are also questions about God answering back – mostly about knowing for sure if it's God you're hearing, and not another voice – perhaps your own ego, or that parental voice that can often intrude, or even the voice that can so easily tempt us away from God's will.
“Teach us to pray,” is a request that has been voiced through the ages. And books and dissertations have been written in response, and trust me, neither you nor I want to hear a dissertation on prayer this morning.

But what I do want to do is take our two scripture readings and talk about what they say about prayer, because they do not say the same thing. In Luke, and also in the parallel in Matthew, Jesus gives a very disciplined answer. Here are the rules; here's what you say. Pray like this.
But in Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians he tells his hearers to pray without ceasing. No telling what to say or where to say it. You are to pray without ceasing. None stop prayer.
And these two examples are the basis for two of the most common ways that spiritual advisors suggest for a faithful prayer life.
The first is that of disciplined prayer.
So often we hear or read about the spiritual disciplines – those focused and intentional activities that bring us into a deeper relationship with God. And prayer is one of, if not the most important of these disciplines. Many who know about these things advise that prayer should become a part of our daily routine – as routine as brushing our teeth or eating our meals.

Mother Teresa prescribed a full hour of contemplation for the sisters in her order. They rise at 4:30 AM and take a cold-water bath before morning prayers.
Most monastic orders scheduled prayer eight times a day – Matins (midnight), Lauds (3 AM or dawn), Prime (6 AM), Terce (9 AM), Sext (noon), Nones (3 PM), Vespers (6 PM), and Compline (9 PM or dark). These were fully developed during medieval times, but today most orders do not interrupt the night's sleep for prayer.
Many, many folks are faithful about beginning and ending the day with prayer, and there is always the prayer before meals. Like anything else we might want to include into our daily schedule, these times of prayer often need intentional discipline in getting the practice started and keeping it going. You just do it until you do it without a second thought.

And often these scheduled times of prayer include specific prayers. The Presbyterian Church has a Book of Daily Prayers that has certain prayers that are prayed in the morning, at noon, and evening. And there are prayers for each day of the week as well. This develops a rhythm that does become as routine as any other daily activity.
Such a prayer routine provides order and consistency that can often give needed structure in days and lives that too often feel hurried and chaotic. A disciplined prayer life can be a firm foundation that can get one centered for the day ahead or allow one to let go at day's end. Prayer becomes the beginning and ending of days that, without such bookends, can often feel bereft of the holy or sacred. To be perfectly honest I admire those followers of Islam who stop and pray five times a day – no matter what they are doing. That is a disciple I respect, but one I know I'm not disciplined enough to follow.

But a disciplined prayer life – even if it's only five minutes in the morning and a “Good-night, God” at bedtime is a good way to become more intentional about including prayer as a regular part of your daily living.
“Lord, teach us to pray.” A prayer routine gives us the time to pray, often with words that are familiar and reassuring.
And then there is Paul's admonishment to pray without ceasing. Not surprisingly there are religious orders that follow his directive. There are orders of contemplative nuns who are at prayer day and night. Some sleep while others are praying, but there are always sisters on their knees at prayer.
I'm not sure if that's exactly what Paul meant, but it is good to know that there are those who are continually at prayer for God's creation and creatures.
But for me, to pray without ceasing means to be in an attitude where I am living and praying at the same time. It all becomes one.

Philip Yancey, in his new book entitled, Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference, says this:
“I'm learning the difference between saying prayers, which is an activity, and praying, which is a soul attitude, a 'lifting up of the mind to God.' Praying in that sense can transform every task, from shoveling snow to defragmenting a computer's hard disk.”
Yancey calls this a “'God-ward orientation,' to a God is close by, if only we tune in.” As I said at the beginning of this sermon, prayer is the way that we are most intimate with God – the way we can best live out our relationship with the Divine. When we think of prayer this way then praying becomes less of a demand, and more a conversation between friends.
And you know that the most honest and real conversations you have with a friend, is when it is spontaneous and spoken from the heart.

When you're with someone whom you really trust you aren't guarded about what you have to say, you talk about the Big things, but also about even the most mundane happenings in your life.
You laugh and cry together, get angry and easily forgive, ask hard questions, and share the real you. If you can do that with a human friend, why not with God – who loves us perfectly and faithfully and wants what is best for us? I don't think God wants prayers with stilted language and censored thoughts. God wants us to be real about the real things in our lives.

Have you ever listened to a child pray? They tell God everything, whether it's a worry about a sick grandparent or wanting snow and a day off from school. They thank God for pretty flowers and best friends, and will complain about a rained out ball game or a grumpy mom.

Now, I've read that God doesn't want to be bothered with such stuff – but why not? Why isn't it OK to give a long sigh at 3 o'clock in the afternoon and pray, “God, I'm having a hard day. Can you help me get through it?” Or when you see one of our great sunsets to simply say thanks. Or to just sit in silence for a few minutes and listen for God.
Because any good conversation is both talking and listening. Have you ever been with someone who wouldn't let you get a word in edge-ways? They might even ask you a question, but just as you start to answer, they launch off on something else. I think we often use our prayers like that. We give God our monologue without ever letting there be a time of silence for God to respond. God just might have answer for us if we be quiet long enough to listen.

Sometimes sitting with the silence can be the most profound form of prayer. I was riding with a friend a few weeks ago and she said, “You're the kind of friend I don't have to talk to all the time, I can just be silent.” What a great compliment. So it is with God. Sometimes we are most intimate with God in the stillness, in the quietness of no words at all. We can listen for God's voice, or just be with God. Just be with God – no agendas, no expectations, only you and God – together, just to be together.
That too is prayer, the kind, I think Paul is talking abut when he says to pray without ceasing. – prayer that allows one to sit with God and enjoy God's company. Thomas Merton says, “Prayer is not just a formula of words, or a series of desires springing up in the heart – it is the orientation of our whole body, mind and spirit to God in silence, attention, and adoration. All good meditative prayer is a conversation of our entire self with God.”

To pray without ceasing is to let yourself be in communion with God in all you do and all you are. It is living in and acknowledging the awareness of God's faithful presence with you all the time. And sometimes that is best expressed in words – and sometimes in silence.
We Presbyterians are very verbal, I think, because we claim to be people of the Word. God's word is the center of our worship. We gather together and prepare to hear the Word. We hear and respond to God's word, and then take it out into the world. But we don't often let the Word come to us or even go back to God in silence.
So, as I mentioned last week, before the prayers of the people we will all pray a unison prayer and then there will be time to be in the presence of God in silence. To let our souls speak, to hear, and to be with God.

For some silence is uncomfortable. We don't think we're “doing anything” if there something's not happening. But in silent worship a lot may be going on – if only we let ourselves be still enough to hear and experience God coming to us, speaking with us, praying for us.
Many churches are growing, not because they have rock bands and great production numbers, but because their worship services include intentional times of silence, when the congregation can let go and be present to God's presence.
“Lord, teach us to pray.” Writer Richard Rohr has said, “When the church is no longer teaching the people how to pray, we could almost say it will have lost its reason for existence.”
Those are powerful words – and ones I don't want to forget, nor do I want you to forget them either. We pray – at set times, with familiar words, in structured ways. And we pray with our work, our breaths, our whispers, our tears, our laughter, with hugs and warm handshakes, with eyes closed and wide open, drinking in creation.

We pray with shouts of praise and sighs of silence. We pray because – just because. Because God is God, and that's enough.