At the Feet of Jesus
“Lord, Teach Us to Pray”
“And it came to pass, that, as he was praying in a certain place, when he ceased, one of his disciples said unto him, Lord, teach us to pray…” —Luke 11:1 (KJV)
There are few requests in Scripture as tender, humble, and instructive as this one. The disciples had seen Jesus perform miracles, calm storms, heal the sick, and confound scholars—but it was His prayer life that stirred in them a longing. “Lord, teach us to pray.” Not teach us to preach, or perform miracles, or organize a movement. But to pray. For in His prayer, they saw the heart of His power and the soul of His relationship with the Father.
A Place, A Person, A Pattern
Luke tells us Jesus was praying “in a certain place.” He often sought solitude for prayer—not to escape, but to commune. George Müller, known for his life of radical dependence on God, wrote: “The first great and primary business to which I ought to attend every day is to have my soul happy in the Lord.” He believed that prayer was not simply petition but communion—dwelling in the presence of God until the soul finds rest.
This longing for continual communion was at the heart of Brother Lawrence’s practice. He said, “There is not in the world a kind of life more sweet and delightful than that of a continual conversation with God.” For him, every act—washing dishes or walking through the market—could become prayer if done in love.
Prayer as Transformation, Not Technique
Andrew Murray insisted that prayer was the “pulse of the spiritual life.” He wrote, “Prayer is not monologue, but dialogue. God’s voice in response to mine is its most essential part.” In other words, to pray is not merely to speak, but to be still and listen. It is to be shaped by the One to whom we pray.
Richard Foster echoes this in Prayer: Finding the Heart’s True Home, noting that “Real prayer comes not from gritting our teeth but from falling in love.” When we fall in love with God, prayer becomes the most natural thing in the world.
Dallas Willard described prayer as “talking with God about what we are doing together.” Not just requests, but relational engagement—co-laboring with God in the quiet and in the chaos. For Willard, prayer was formation: we become more like Christ as we spend time with Him.
The Ancient Witnesses
John Chrysostom, the great preacher of Antioch, wrote: “Prayer is the root, the fountain, the mother of a thousand blessings.” For Chrysostom, the praying life was the rich soil out of which all virtue grows. Similarly, Theodoret observed how the Psalms were both model and fuel for prayer: “They both teach and stir the soul to pray.”
St. Bernard of Clairvaux, the Cistercian monk and mystic, taught that prayer arises from love: “True prayer is born of love, and it leads back to love.” The goal of prayer is not just a changed situation but a changed heart.
Even the historian and theologian J. Jeremias pointed out that the word Abba, used by Jesus in prayer, reflected an intimate, childlike trust—revolutionary for His day. It showed that Jesus’ prayer life was not a ritual but a relationship, something He longed to pass on to His followers.
“Teach Us…” — The Cry of Every Generation
The disciple’s request is still ours today. We do not know how to pray as we ought (Romans 8:26), and so we ask again: “Lord, teach us to pray.” Not once, but again and again, as the Spirit draws us deeper.
Robert Moffat, the missionary to Africa, once said, “A man is what he is on his knees before God, and nothing more.” If this is true, then learning to pray is not optional—it is the foundation of a faithful life.
A Closing Invitation
May we find a “certain place” to be with God—whether it’s a corner of a room, a garden bench, or a walk through a quiet field. And there, may we whisper the ancient, simple prayer: “Lord, teach us to pray.” He will. And in the learning, we will discover not only how to speak, but how to listen, how to love, and how to live.
A Prayer: “Lord Jesus, Teach Me to Pray”
Lord Jesus Christ,
Son of the Living God,
You who withdrew to solitary places to commune with the Father,
You who rose early to pray and lingered long through the night,
You who wept, interceded, gave thanks, and surrendered in prayer—
Teach me to pray.
I come not with eloquence or formulas,
But with a heart that longs to draw near.
I do not know how to begin, what to say, or how to wait—
But I know that You prayed, and that Your disciples asked,
“Lord, teach us to pray,”
And so I ask the same.
Teach me to pray not as duty but as delight,
Not to perform but to participate
In the mystery of communion with the Father,
In the fellowship of the Spirit,
In the intimacy of Your love.
Teach me to be still before You—
To quiet the whirlwind within,
To listen more than I speak,
To trust even when words fail.
Teach me to bring my whole self to You—
My brokenness and beauty,
My fears and longings,
My doubts and desires.
Let nothing be hidden from Your gaze,
For You already see and love me as I am.
Teach me to pray when I’m weary—
When the answers don’t come,
When my soul is dry,
When I feel alone in the silence.
Remind me that even then,
You are interceding for me with groans too deep for words.
Teach me to pray in joy—
To laugh with You, to sing praise,
To overflow with gratitude for every gift:
The breath in my lungs,
The food on my table,
The faces of those I love,
The cross that redeems me.
Teach me to intercede—
To carry others before Your throne,
To weep with those who weep,
To rejoice with those who rejoice,
To stand in the gap for a world in need.
Teach me to surrender—
To say, “Not my will, but Yours be done,”
As You prayed in Gethsemane.
Let my prayers not be demands but offerings,
Poured out like fragrant oil,
Precious because they are given in love.
Teach me to pray when I fail,
To come to You not in shame but in trust,
Believing that Your mercy is greater than my sin,
That Your grace meets me even when I have no words.
Teach me to pray always—
When I’m walking or working,
When I’m silent or speaking,
When I’m alone or among others.
Make my whole life a prayer,
A living conversation with You.
And Lord, when I grow distracted, when I forget,
When I rely on my strength instead of Yours—
Call me back.
Whisper again, “Come away with Me.”
And may my heart respond like a child,
Running home to love.
Jesus, teach me to pray—
Not just with words,
But with my life.
Make me a person of prayer,
Formed in the quiet,
Fed in the secret place,
Transformed by Your presence.
Amen.
Supporting Scripture for prayer and meditation :
- Luke 11:1 – “Lord, teach us to pray…”
- Romans 8:26 – “The Spirit helps us in our weakness…”
- Psalm 27:8 – “My heart says of you, ‘Seek his face!’ Your face, Lord, I will seek.”
- John 15:7 – “If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish…”
Suggested Hymns for meditation :
- “Sweet Hour of Prayer” – William Walford
- “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” – Joseph Scriven
- “Take Time to Be Holy” – William D. Longstaff
No comments:
Post a Comment