Kick Down the Dividing Wall of Prayer

Reciting prayers can enrich our improvisation.

Personal photo, 2024.

Pray Like This?

One of my first memories of someone praying freely and expressively was the night I got saved. You might say it left an impression.

Growing up Catholic, I was familiar with what I’ll call recited prayers. You know at least one of them:

Our Father in heaven,

hallowed be your name,

your kingdom come,

your will be done

on earth as it is in heaven.

Matthew 6:9b-10

Although my youthful assessment surely wasn’t fair, I didn’t think I’d seen a lot of fervent faith in Catholicism. So as I dove into New Calvinist evangelicalism in the early 2010s, I embraced the party line: recited prayers were suspect. They were wooden, probably lifeless, maybe even legalistic. Spontaneous, heartfelt prayer was our aim.

As such, we took note of how Jesus introduces the Lord’s Prayer in the ESV translation:

Pray then like this:

Matthew 6:9a

“See,” I can recall a friend saying, “it says, ‘Pray like this.’ It doesn’t say to recite it word-for-word.” Young and restless, perhaps, but surely never rehearsed.

In the years since, I’ve encountered God’s presence many times in improvised prayer. I’ve seen the Lord answer requests I’ve brought to him this way. There’s something wonderfully raw and even exhilarating about this kind of prayer. After all, you start a conversation with the Almighty with no idea how you’ll end it. All of that said, there are also downsides when a group of Christians concludes that improvised prayer is the preferred—or the only—option.

We Designate a Select Few as “Good at” Prayer

How we think about prayer is strongly shaped by the examples we hear. Anyone listening to a recited prayer will conclude, I could do that too. Now think of the person you know who offers the most stirring improvised prayers. Most believers, hearing that, will come to the opposite conclusion: I could never pray like that.

Of course, the quality of a prayer’s delivery in no way determines its power. And Jesus emphasizes private prayer for the very reason that it offers no opportunity to impress others (Matthew 6:5-6). Nonetheless, in public settings, we lean on the same prayer “specialists” again and again. Meanwhile, many believers quietly conclude that talking to God well requires a rare gift of eloquence.

Men Can Be Especially Reluctant to Improvise Prayer

It’s often guys in particular who are reluctant to pray this way. Men tend to speak directly and concisely. But if you’ve spent any amount of time in evangelical circles, you know this isn’t the prayer style we prize. The reluctance this produces in many guys can be masked by the fact that men, especially pastors, offer many of the prayers we hear. But pay attention to how few are usually appointed to this role. Again, it’s the prayer “specialist” phenomenon.

Women have outnumbered men in church for generations, and our prayer preferences are far from the only explanation for this. But if we’re serious about trying to draw more men into Christian community, we’d do well to at least become aware that improvised public prayers may not be helping.

The Best of Both Worlds

While modern evangelicalism tends to value spontaneity in prayer, centuries of Christian tradition offer recited prayer as a vital alternative. This is not only true for Catholics and Orthodox, but also for Protestants. The Anglican Book of Common Prayer is the best-known example.

Maybe the Church of England is still a bit too Rome-ish for your liking. Look into the case that Baptists like Morrow Patrick Morrow and David Stone are making for prayer books. Why? In their words, “Common prayer directs attention away from the self and to God.”

I’d suggest that if you lean too heavily on improvised prayer, you might end up in a self-absorbed loop. What you intend as prayer might actually land closer to talking to yourself about your wants and needs.

Don’t hesitate to bring those desires and needs to the Lord. But let Scripture reshape your mind and words as you do. This is one reason I urge people to sing psalms. As you internalize psalms and other Scripture, directing your attention in prayer “away from the self and to God” will become more instinctive.

An Advent Prayer for the Whole Year

Mary’s song in Luke 1 is a powerful example of a prayer that could only come from a person steeped in God’s Word. It also happens that we’re about two weeks from Christmas as I write this, and Advent is on my mind.

Although the text doesn’t state it, because the prayer resembles a psalm, many assume Mary sang it. I think it’s a great example of the overlap that between psalms, songs, and prayers.

With the exception of the line “all generations will call me blessed,” any believer could pray (or sing) her words from a personal perspective.

You can pray it (nearly) word for word. Or you can use it as a starting “melody” for improvising your own prayer.

Either way you lean, read it. Reflect on who God is and what he did to bring salvation through Jesus Christ, the Son of God who took on flesh.

Then get praying.

And Mary said:

“My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant.

From now on all generations will call me blessed,

for the Mighty One has done great things for me—holy is his name.

His mercy extends to those who fear him,

from generation to generation.

He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;

he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.

He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble.

He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty.

He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful

to Abraham and his descendants forever,

even as he said to our fathers.”

Luke 1:46-55

However you pray this Christmas season, pray to the Lord, the one to whom all Scripture points. And may you and yours come to know Jesus Christ more deeply as we celebrate his birth.