Jesus and His Prayers

September 24, 1961
Rochester

There are at least two thought provoking aspects to the prayer life of Jesus: First, that he would be totally out of sympathy with people repeating traditional prayers in his name and assuming that these prayers were authentic religious experiences. Second, there is no doubt that prayer was the vital act of worship that Jesus cultivated and from which there came the marvelous moral courage and abundant spiritual reserves which Jesus possessed.

At first glance, these two propositions may seem contradictory, but I would offer the proposition that not only was the heart of Jesus’ religion a deep prayer experience, but also that he was plainly critical of most of the prayers which were repeated by the group at worship. If this is as I believe then there exists a religious obligation to face up to what prayer should be.

First of all, there are many difficulties in the way of discovering the authentic words and acts of Jesus. The only existing records are the gospels of the New Testament. The gospels were not written before the last three decades of the first century. Not one author had been a personal witness to anything Jesus did or heard one syllable from his lips. The gospels were compiled by men who believed Jesus to have been the Messiah who was momentarily to return in the glory of his second coming. Consequently the gospel writers were not biographers intent on writing an authentic portrait of a person and his times, but rather they were witnesses to a fervid belief that Jesus was the Christ. Therefore, the gospels were not so much historical or biographical, but rather theological. It was important to the early Christians to be able to convince prospective converts that the supernatural Christ could not have been shamefully executed as though he had been a criminal and that his second coming could be immediately expected to redeem all evil times.

Then, too these theological explanations were filtered for centuries through many editors. The oldest copy does not date before 375 a.d. Not only late first century beliefs and expectations are present in the New Testament, but also far later beliefs and explanations have found their imprint or made their revision.

Thus, most scholars will readily admit that there can be no successful effort to capture completely the historical Jesus – Jesus as he really was and the words he really said. But this loss does not mean that it is impossible to know anything about the real Jesus. We can have some confidence that there are nuggets in the gospels, particularly if the captivating reason might seem out of character for a developing church with an increasing body of liturgy and ritual. As Morton Enslin and other scholars have pointed out, if the saying of Jesus is hostile to the accepted practice of a young, growing, organizational church, we can feel some assurance that the real Jesus is speaking. Such an attitude would not be a likely fabrication, but rather might be the original Jesus.

The consideration of Jesus and his prayers present some vivid illustrations of what obviously are additions to the original core and also some fleeing impression of the difficult, but glorious way of Jesus’ personal religious life. Let’s look at some of the contrasts.

Consider that portion of the gospel of Mark which tells of the cursing and withering of the fig tree followed by a brief homily on prayer.

On the way from Bethany, Jesus is hungry. Although it is not the season for fig trees to bear fruit, Jesus curses the fig tree for not providing him with food, “may no one ever eat fruit from you again.” The gospel says that the next morning when the disciples passed by again and the tree was found to be withering away, Jesus said, “Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask in prayer, believe that you receive it and you will.” Then a sentence which is incorporated in the Lord’s Prayer is added.

Why question this strange anecdote as being an authentic happening? First of all, it is not true in Jesus’ experience, or yours or mine that if one believes that one receives a favorable answer to prayer, he will. It’s just not so. Then too, the destruction of a fig tree because it did not bear fruit out of season is hardly the act of a good, reasonable person, let alone a redeemer. But, if one was attempting to convince a disbeliever of the magical powers of a supernatural savior, such a legend might be impressive if received thoughtlessly. However, theological bragging is not the equivalent of historical validity.

The more one reads the gospels thoroughly, the more strengthened is the conviction that prayer for Jesus was the height of spiritual experience is not what has generally been taught in the Christian Church.

Perhaps you have noted how many times that for Jesus, prayer was a solitary experience, not a group ceremony. We all have been taught that at Gethsemane, Jesus prayed apart from his sleepy companions. Luke’s gospel (29) tells the story of the Mount of Transfiguration. Again Jesus prays alone while his disciples doze. The references to prayer are surprisingly few and the most intriguing conclusion is that Jesus consistently withdraws to a private place for prayers (Matt. 14/23; Luke 5/16; 9:18)

This is an insight we too frequently neglect. We live group lives, do things as groups – everything from government parleys to business conferences, to labor-management panels, to church buzz-sessions to psychiatric therapeutic groups. With no intention of denigrating the values of group interchange and the achieving of group consensus, attention can be called to Jesus; attitude as one we should not ignore. we are so swallowed up by the busyness of our lives, battered by immediate externals, that we need the experience of solitary reflection. We will benefit by the occasional healthy practice of facing up alone to the larger problems of life.

Call it prayer or what you will, to be alone and honest with ourselves and our God is one of the great disciplines and inspirations of living.

In the account of his solitary prayers, we are catching a glimpse of the real Jesus. This aspect of the prayer life of Jesus should not be forgotten when we consider the most widely used and most misunderstood of all the prayers of the Christian Church – the “Lord’s Prayer.”

Parenthetically, this is always an item for discussion in a Universalist Church. If the prayer is used regularly in the worship service, the question will surely be raised, “Why do we say the Lord’s Prayer?” Those taking this position will make the following case: Although freedom from creed is well-established in our church, most Universalists believe Jesus [was] human. Therefore he is not Lord and God. If, as some of our churches practice, the prayer is named “the prayer of Jesus,” the difficulties remain, because as we shall see, this is not a prayer of Jesus.

When this “Lord’s Prayer” is not used regularly in Universalist worship, then the parallel question is raised, “Why don’t we say it?” The case is made that for years it has been used and nobody has been hurt. Furthermore, that many public schools begin the school day with it, and that it is one of the liturgical and spiritual treasures of any group which had its origin in the historic Christian Church.

Whether or not regular congregational use of the Lord’s Prayer is both consistent with our tradition and desirable for our religious growth should be considered in the context of its origin and development.

The Lord’s Prayer as a part of group worship is not a prayer of Jesus, but a prayer which developed in the Christian Church and had not reached its present form when the gospels were completed. But we need to see what the gospels assert.

Most scholars agree that the basic core of this prayer is found in the first three verses of the 11th chapter of the gospel of Luke, “Jesus was praying in a certain place, and when he ceased, one of his disciples said to him, ‘Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.’ And he said to them, ‘When you pray, say: Father, hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread, and forgive our sins, for we ourselves forgive everyone who is indebted to us; and lead us not into temptation.”

You will note the brief, prose style. It would seem to indicate that John had taught his disciples a certain specific prayer and that Jesus’ disciples, observing him praying apart, asked him for a form prayer that they might use.

But when we move to Matthew’s gospel, an entirely different situation confronts us. The prayer is poetic and is part of the Sermon on the Mount, which scholars agree is a compilation of sayings attributed to Jesus. It was not a sermon delivered at one time. The context is entirely different from that of Luke. Instead of being a prayer taught for group use, it is precisely and specifically the opposite. Jesus is sternly candid in warning his listeners that this is not a public prayer (Matthew 6:5 ff.)

“Beware of practicing your piety before men in order to be seen by them; for then you will have no reward when you give alms, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites in the synagogues and in the streets that they may be praised by men. Truly, I say to you they have their reward....

“And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by men. Truly I say to you, they have their reward. But when you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.

“And in praying do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard for their many words. Do not be like them for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. Pray then like this:
Our Father who art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done,
On earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread;
and forgive us our debts
As we have also forgiven our debtors,
And lead us not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil.”

If we would follow Matthew, we would not say this prayer publicly at all. If we followed Luke, very little of what is thought of as the Lord’s Prayer would be used. In neither case would we ever use the doxology ending, “for thine is the power and the glory for ever and ever,” for this is in neither version. Almost surely it was a late liturgical doxology added by the Christian Church.

Then, too, many would call attention to Matthew’s version which is unlike Luke’s. Matthew’s gospel says “Pray then like this,” or “after this manner pray,” which would indicate that Jesus was not giving a set of words but a manner of approach. In other words, Jesus might have said, “use my method, but fashion your own prayers.”

People will continue to respond favorably, unfavorably, or neutrally to the group use of the “Lord’s Prayer.” This much seems assured, Jesus would mightily oppose the vain repetition of words. He had nothing but scorn for those who said prayers publicly because it was the thing to do or the acceptable practice to follow.

Furthermore, it should not be forgotten that Jesus was beloved by the poor people and rejects of society. He was hated by those who were rich and powerful and who defended the status quo or Roman occupation. Jesus was crucified, as Morton Enslin says well in his new book, not because he was misunderstood, but because he was understood. Society’s rulers could not abide what he was teaching and could not abide him. Aldous Huxley commended (Devils of Loudun, 767), “the corollary of ‘thy kingdom come’ is ‘our kingdom go.’” So don’t pray “Our Father thy kingdom come,” unless you are conscious that you are praying that our kingdom of war, waste, pride, selfishness, inertia and greed must go. You are praying for drastic, revolutionary change.

Above all, this prayer should not be a badge of conformity for public schools or religious institutions. Jesus was a prophet of God in his own time, believed as did his own age and spoke to his own age. There is much to be learned from Jesus and his prayers, not so much the words for there is no assurance that they were his. But shining throughout the layers of doctrine and liturgy is the purpose of Jesus’ prayers. Jesus prayed for communion with his Father God, to apprehend the conjunction with the great universal source of life and love. In Gethsemane, his agony was great – at first perhaps, he prayed that torture and execution would not strike, “let this cup pass from me, yet not as I will but as Thou will.”

When he had prayed, he received his reward. This was not a reversal of his doom, but a strengthening of his will to continue on the course he believed right.

It has been reported that he said to his sleeping disciples who would not stay awake to watch with him, “watch and pray that you may not be exposed to trial, one’s spirit is eager, but flesh and blood are weak.”

Prayer for Jesus was not only for communion with Father God, or with the reality which is at the heart of everything, but his prayers – note again the solitary nature of the agonizing prayers of hard decision – his prayers were also for the purpose of giving the human spirit command over the fears of the flesh, giving the best part of our nature the upper hand over the temptation to yield to the forces which destroy high values.

The famous preacher, Washington Gladden, once commented, “he who prays only for himself and his immediate family and friends must make his own prayer; the Lord’s prayer will not serve his purpose ... He who thoughtfully takes these words upon his lips takes it at the same time all human wants ....” (told by Robert Luccock, “Daily Meditations,” Christian Herald.)

If we would understand Jesus in his prayers, we must remember that he spoke to his own times and the needs of his times and we cannot be certain of his specific words. But if we would consider this prayer more than a trite convention, we must think of our times, not his, and reach out for that which we hold precious and renew our faithfulness to a world not yet realized, but for which we must acquire the courage and strength so that we may help to make it come true.