The late William Barclay, longtime professor at the University of Glasgow in Scotland whose publications were widely read, and are till being read, in the United States, had a consummate interest in prayer. He published several volumes of The Plain Man's Book of Prayers which included morning and evening prayers, along with Bible readings. He not only authored prayers for festival days throughout the church year, but for such special occasions in the home as the birth of a child, when a child first goes to school, marriage, in time of illness, in time of sorrow, when bad news comes, when good news comes, after a quarrel, when we retire. He has prayers for many professions — the soldier and the school teacher, the doctor and the lawyer, the farmer and the writer.
Petitions from a morning prayer:
Grant that,
Nothing may cause us to lose our temper;
Nothing may take away our joy;
Nothing may ruffle our peace;
Nothing may make us bitter towards any man.
A few lines from that prayer reads: "There is so much for which we need forgiveness. For the time we have wasted; for the opportunities we have neglected; for the strength we have given to the wrong things; for all the mistakes we have made. Forgive us, O God."
Anyone who has given so much thought to prayer, even composing hundreds of them, has earned the right to be heard when it comes to the "know how" of prayer. In one of his prayer books he provides an introduction titled "Ourselves And Our Prayers" in which he reveals some of the conclusions he has reached after decades of study of the subject. I now share some of these with you, along with some of my own observations..
Barclay believed that prayer should not be a monologue in which we do all the talking, but also a time for listening for the voce of God. As he puts it: "The highest form of prayer is silence when we wait on God and listen to God." We have a low view of prayer, he insists, if we view prayer as telling God what we want him to do. We should rather listen to God to see what he wants us to do. Prayer is not making use of God, but giving ourselves to God. We are to linger in prayer in silence, enjoying the peace of God's presence, and feel the serenity of perfect security.
I don't think the professor meant that we are to expect God to speak to us audibly as he did to Christ and the apostles and prophets. We are not to look for modern-day revelations in our prayers. But we can petition God, as did a psalmist, "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me and know my anxieties, and see if there is any wicked way in me" (Psalm 139:23). Then we are to listen to our heart, to our conscience, for the "voice" of God. Barclay didn't mean that we are to listen and God will tell us what house to buy. God also speaks to us through common sense!
Prayer is not an acquired art, Barclay tells us, but an instinct. At one time or another we cannot help but pray, and it is noteworthy that in the most primitive of societies people are found to pray to such gods as they have. We all pray, even those who profess no religion, when life becomes more than we can bear. When we face utter helplessness and hopelessness we pray. This being the case, if prayer is natural, why do we need to learn how to do it? Breathing is also natural, as is eating and sleeping, and yet we can learn techniques whereby we do these things better.
There is technique to everything, Barclay reminds us, including prayer. The disciples asked Jesus to teach them but one thing, how to pray. The Lord responded, giving them what we call the Lord's Prayer. He realized we need to learn how to pray more appropriately. Paul insisted that "We do not know what we should pray for as we ought," (Romans 8:26), noting that the Spirit helps us in our weakness, making intercession for us. We can also learn from those who are gifted in prayer, from those who have lived prayerful lives, through tragedy and triumph alike.
The fact that God is more ready to hear our prayers than we are to pray, and more willing to give than we are to receive, should make prayer easier for us, and more of a joyous experience than an act of duty. Barclay references two parables about prayer that he believes have been interpreted so as to leave the wrong impression about God hearing prayers. One is the Parable of the Unjust Judge (Luke 18:2-7) which tells how a poor widow finally got justice in a court of law by hounding the judge. Persistence! The other parable is about the Friend at Midnight (Luke 11:5-8) that tells about a man, desperate to borrow food from a neighbor who doesn't want to be disturbed at midnight, but at last relents at the man's continual knocking at the door. Again, persistence!
These parables have been made to teach that God, like the unjust judge and the reluctant neighbor, may have to be cajoled and badgered — "Bombard God with prayer" we sometimes hear — before he responds to us. Persistence! Barclay says such teaching has done much harm, for God is not like the unjust judge or the reluctant neighbor at all, for he is eager to hear our prayers and more than willing to respond. The parables are teaching contrast, not likeness. If an irascible judge would at last show justice to a nagging widow, how much more will God show mercy to those who call upon him. If a sleepy neighbor is at last aroused to act by persistent knocking, how much more will God respond to those who eagerly petition him. We may be persistent in prayer, and in emergencies we are likely to be, but it isn't necessary, God being the eager-to-show-mercy God that he is.
That is what the parables are teaching, Barclay believes, that God is a loving Father who is rich in mercy, and who does not have to be badgered into bestowing his grace. "Prayer warriors," they call themselves, who gang-up on God and storm the gates of heaven to persuade God to act in behalf of their cause might do well to heed these prayer parables.
The professor ventures that there are laws to prayer. The first law, he says, is that prayer must be honest, emanating from a sincere heart. He quotes Martin Luther to the effect that the first law of prayer is "Don't lie to God." We may pray as if we want to be changed, when in fact we have no intention of changing. Barclay charges that most of us want to stay the way we are. The peril of prayer, he warns, is pious and meaningless platitudes.
The second law is that prayer is to be definite and precise, avoiding generalities. We are not simply to ask for forgiveness. Barclay says that is easy and comfortable. We are to name and confess the sin before God. So with thanksgiving. We are to name the blessings for which we are thanking God. Nor are we to pray generally for God to make us a better person, but to name the ways in which we know we are lacking. It may difficult for a woman to admit she has been mean-spirited and jealous, or for a man to confess his lust or sexual fantasies. Rather than pray for others in a general way, we should call their names, one by one.
Even if we get all this right, the professor insists, there are still other laws, such as remembering that God cannot grant a selfish request, and that he will not do for us what we can do for ourselves. And that God always knows best. In our ignorance we may pray for what, in the end, would not be for our good. Too, we must realize that prayer moves through the natural laws that govern life. Someone who accidentally falls from a high ladder or window who asks God to keep him from falling prays in vain, as does the one who chooses to smoke all his life, and then asks God not to allow his habit to affect his lungs.
We teach the wrong lesson about prayer to our youth when we pray that the weather will not disturb their outing. And we can pray until we are blue in the face about our debts — and the trillions of our national debt — but debts will be reduced only as we follow the frugal principles of economics that God himself has put in place. We can pray for the wisdom and the courage to follow such principles.
Finally, the professor references what he sees as the most fatal error in our prayers, the notion that prayer is an escape from an untoward situation when it is rather a conquest of the situation. We cannot escape the storms of life, nor should we pray to do so, but we can pray for strength and steadfastness to endue the storms. When we or our loved one become terminally ill, it is time to pray for peace of heart and mind, and to praise and thank him that we have a hope that sustains us to the end.
Barclay believes that there is no such thing as an unanswered prayer. God hears and responds to all our prayers. The answer is not always Yes, for it may be No or Wait. He thinks it significant that in Gethsemane Jesus prayed that he might not have to drink the bitter cup of the Cross, and yet it was "not my will but yours be done." While the answer was No, he received the strength to endure torture, even unto the salvation of the world. Barclay sees that as a great lesson for us on the purpose and meaning of prayer.
