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6th Sunday after Trinity

IN LUKE 11.1-13, Jesus teaches his disciples how to pray. Yet, even before they ask him to teach them, he has already begun his teaching: by showing them. So his guidance on how to pray begins with practising what he preaches — he who, as Matthew reminds us (23.10), is the one true teacher.

Inspired by this Gospel, we, too, can say to Jesus, “Lord, teach us to pray.” Prayer, after all, is something that every Christian needs to learn. As a Church, we are not always good at teaching people how to pray; so, this text should be treasured as a pearl of great price.

Imitation is the first way in which we learn to pray together, whether through the example of Jesus (as here) or that of other Christians. Fellow-worshippers exemplify what praying looks and sounds like. Then, with practice and repetition, the words of corporate prayer close the divide between public and private: they become personal words, springing to mind and mouth whenever they are needed.

Luke says that Jesus began by “praying in a certain place”. That makes it sound as if the place was carefully selected. But we could also translate, “in some place”, which would indicate the reverse — that the location was irrelevant to his praying. All we can say for sure is that Luke does not confirm beyond doubt that the location is “special”.

Who was present? Again, Luke does not say. But, given the context — teaching how to pray — I suspect that the disciples were with Jesus while he prayed. If so, they would have been onlookers, not participants. Otherwise, their request for teaching on prayer makes no sense, or would be more specific (“Lord, teach us to pray better”).

Jesus had chosen a place to pray in: perhaps the disciples, eager to learn from him, paid attention to the nature of that place. Was it quiet? isolated? lofty? Or was it irrelevant to the example that the Lord was offering? Then “he prayed”: one word in Greek, encapsulating so much. Was he speaking aloud? Or was he “speaking” in the silence of his heart? Did he eschew verbal expression completely, instead enjoying a moment of wordless contemplation in his Father’s presence?

Jesus starts praying, and he finishes praying. This Gospel gives no support for pious beliefs that the whole of life is a continuous prayer. Prayer, as Jesus embodies it, is an action and a state of being, recognisable as such to those who observe it, and bounded in space and time. Because it has a beginning and an end, we enter into times of prayer, knowing, as we begin, that we must end them, too.

If this Lord’s prayer is our model, our exiting of prayer will happen speedily; for it is very brief. It is not fuelled by scripture, or music, or enhanced by complex language. It simply expresses human faith and need in the divine presence.

I was once in Lambeth Palace chapel for worship, as part of an event. The Archbishop was present, sitting apart but in full view of everyone else. If this was to embody exemplary praying like Jesus, how uncomfortable for him, I thought, projecting my own imagined awkwardness at being so scrutinised. But all of us must accept some scrutiny if it helps other to learn. Jesus may have focused easily, completely, on God: we must work hard to shut out self-consciousness, as well as more obvious distractions such as noise, or movement, or other people’s attention.

We set Luke 11.2-4 apart, label it “the Lord’s Prayer”, and use it daily. Embedded in the Gospel, though, it is a prayer that the Lord prays for himself, and one that he bestows on us; so it is our example, by imitation and gift, as much as it was to the first disciples.

The prayer comes in two parts, in both grammar and subject-matter. It begins with the second person: “Hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come”. Then, once the Father has been honoured, it changes to the first person, and to human needs: “Give us each day our daily bread . . . forgive us our sins . . . do not bring us to the time of trial.”

We honour God first. Then we tell him our needs: bread; forgiveness; not to be tested beyond our strength. He has taught us what to say. Only we can live it.

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