Everything I Needed to Know About Prayer...

I LEARNED IN SUNDAY SCHOOL

Philippians 4:6-7

Okay, strictly speaking that title probably isn’t true, but it’s true enough and certainly truer than a lot of what the “name it and claim it” crowd might say.

Anyway, I don’t recall the Sunday school teacher’s name.  And I’m sure what she shared on that Sunday morning so many years ago wasn’t original with her but it made enough of an impression that I recently found myself thinking about it.  That, in itself, is surprising because even though I attended Sunday school throughout my childhood and teen years, I don’t recall much about the details.  My parents had a picture of me in a Sunday school class and I don’t remember the teacher or any of the other pupils.  I do have a vague memory of wondering how the flannelgraph worked.  But back to the lesson on prayer my Sunday school teacher shared.

On the chalk board—that’s right, chalk board—she put the letters: ACTS.  She then explained that they stood for what should be part of every prayer.   She put the letters on the board; I’m giving the explanation.  Any confusion in the explanation is mine, not hers.

The first component of prayer is Adoration.

Adoration is praise felt at our deepest level.  It is born out of our recognizing who God is.  The psalmist exhibits adoration when he cries out, “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your Name….”  Adoration celebrates God’s nature and character.

Adoration ought to be a component of prayer for at least two reasons. 

First, because it is appropriate:  God is worthy of our adoration.  That is at the heart of worship.  The very word comes from the same root as “worthy.”  Worship says God is worthy of our praise and adoration.

As such, the more we reflect on God’s nature and character, the better we are able to worship.  Psalms—like Psalm 8, 19, 100 and many others—are the products of hearts that have thought about who God is.

There’s another reason for making adoration an element of our prayer.  Adoration inspires hope and confidence as we pray.

With our minds on who God is, we are better able to pray with the hope that he is able and willing to answer our prayers.  There’s a hint of this in the passage.

As Paul writes to the Philippians to help them banish anxiety, he refers to God as “the God of peace.”  He seems to be saying that it is the nature of God to give peace to those who trust him.  When we pray for peace, it makes sense to pray to the God of peace.

Paul does much the same thing in the opening chapter of Second Corinthians.  He is addressing those who have been battered about by life.  Before he speaks to them he offers a prayer of adoration to “the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ”—then he further describes God as “the Father of mercies and the God of all consolation.”  To appreciate that description, look at the Amplified translation:  “the Father of sympathy (pity and mercy) and the God [who is the Source] of every comfort (consolation and encouragement).”

If you need comfort and encouragement, wouldn’t you like to know that’s the God you’re praying to?

When we pray, let’s make time for adoration.

The second component of prayer, according to that Sunday school teacher, is Confession.

Most of us would just as soon skip this bit.  It makes us feel uncomfortable.  You can certainly understand why.  Confession calls upon us, in the words of the classic prayer, to acknowledge that “we have done those things we ought not to have done and left undone those things we ought to have done.”

But we don’t like to admit we’re guilty of either.  Maybe that’s why it’s placed just after adoration.  When we spend time looking on the glory and majesty of God, we become more aware of our own spiritual poverty.

Of course, the clearest example of this in the Bible is found in the story of Isaiah’s vision of God.   We find it in Isaiah 6.

In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple.
      Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew.
     And one called to another and said: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!”
    And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke.
   And I said: “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!”

I like the New Living Translation rendering of “Woe is me!”   Is says, “It’s all over.  I’m doomed.”

Isaiah, who was probably someone you’d like as a neighbor, someone you’d describe as a good guy, was brought to a moment of heart-wrenching confession.

And that prepared him to receive God’s blessing.

When we truly confess, we disavow any notion that we somehow merit God’s gifts.  We reject any claim that we have the right to have our prayers answered.  We experience the humility that is open to receive what God deems best for us.

Confession clears away the clutter that stands between us and God.  It opens our eyes to the goodness of God and prepares us for the next phase of prayer.

The next component of prayer involves Thanksgiving.

We need to understand that this is not simply a call to be polite when we pray.  The wording “with thanksgiving” might suggest the note of gratitude is almost an afterthought.  Rather, I think   the idea is that we should thankfully pray, thankfully supplicate, thankfully request.

If adoration is inspired by who God is, thanksgiving is inspired by what God does.  It involves thinking beyond our immediate need.  It calls upon us to think about something else for a moment.  The old admonition, “count your blessings,” may seem simplistic.  But counting anything demands you pay attention, focus on the task.  It means setting what’s happening to you right now in the larger context.  It isn’t always easy but we can do it.  Finding cause to be thankful may keep despair and panic at bay.

It’s easy to forget to be thankful.  The word “supplication” implies intensity.  It can imply someone who is crying out, pleading, even begging.  That kind of feeling can cause us to forget to pause and say thank you.

Practicing gratitude is important because it reminds us that God is still watching out for us.  He is still on our side.  Thanksgiving fills us with hope as we enter the next phase of prayer.

Finally, we get to what some seem to think of as the defining component of prayer, Supplication.

Paul defines it for us by saying that supplication is simply “making your requests known to God.”

The language Paul uses is encouraging.  It implies definite requests.  We’re not limited to vague generalities when we pray.

Knowing we may bring every concern to God can calm the anxious heart.  As a consequence we know the “peace of God.”  Such peace may puzzle those who observe the Christian who is facing a situation that ought to inspire panic.  It is truly a peace that defies understanding or explanation.

Knowing God cares and hears allows us to calm our minds.  We can begin to discipline our thinking in a way that forestalls anxiety and helps us clarify our real needs.

Which List is Longer?

I’m going to spend the remainder of my time talking about these final two components of prayer:  Thanksgiving and Supplication.

If the first part of my sermon was inspired by something a Sunday school teacher said decades ago, this part of the sermon is suggested by two more recent conversations.

In a recent Friday night Bible study, where a group of twenty-somethings met at our house, we discussed how to face financial crisis.  Naturally, the issue of praying about our needs came up.  The matter of balancing giving thanks to God and asking about our needs was raised.  Only a few days later, Pat was in a conversation with our daughter-in-law Kelly and the topic turned to the same subject.

In each case, it was suggested that we have two lists.  One list enumerates those things for which we are thankful.  The other list enumerates our needs and wants—the concerns we bring to God.  In each case (the Bible study and the phone call), the question was raised “Which list is longer?”

It’s a good question.  Of course, not everyone who prays comes before God with two lists.  Many people come with only the one list—the list of what they want from God.  So recalling that we ought to have two lists is important.

At the same time, I don’t want to be misunderstood.  I would never judge a person’s spiritual condition by the relative lengths of their thank-you and their request lists.  Neither should you.  That broken-hearted person whose life is in shambles just may not be able to produce a lengthy gratitude list at a moment’s notice.  Because of this maybe we would all be wise to always begin our thanksgiving list with “Thank you, Lord, for the many anonymous and secret ways you bless me every day.”

Spending time on our thanksgiving list is good discipline.  We need to be like detectives looking for clues pointing to God’s activity in our lives.  Jesus once told a crowd that both sunshine and rain are God’s blessing.  We sometimes forget that.  Years ago, I heard an Amarillo DJ complain that the rain predicted for the upcoming weekend would spoil plans he had made for an outing.  The region that depends so much on agriculture was in the midst of a long-standing drought.  The DJ failed to see there would be other picnics and that his temporary disappointment would lead to greater prosperity for his neighbors and job security for him.  May we have the wisdom to put together a good thanksgiving list.

If we spend time on our thanksgiving list, maybe we need to spend time on our request list.  That would be good discipline too.  We need to understand why we need what we believe we need.

It will help us to pray more intelligently.  It may help us to see when God is beginning to answer our prayers through the back door, rather than answer them in a way that is obvious to everyone watching—including us.

Whether these two lists ever exist anywhere outside your mind, they will help you keep a balance to your praying.  They will sharpen your insight into what God is doing in your life.  And you will be encouraged as a matter that was once on your request list finds its way to your thank-you list.

Conclusion

Of course, as I said, my title is not entirely true.  My Sunday school teacher’s effort to simplify prayer didn’t cover everything.  Her teaching device was helpful but didn’t cover those aspects of prayer that remain mysterious.

Still, if we practice adoration, confession, thanksgiving, and supplication we may come to that place where we can trust God for what can’t be easily put on the chalkboard or in an Elmo presentation.