By Father Casey

It can be hard to pray sometimes. That may sound like a strange thing for a priest to say, but it's the truth. Sometimes the tragedies and cruelties of the world can work their way inside us, spreading like a shadow over our souls, until we can't remember where the Light is, let alone try to direct our prayers toward it.

Or perhaps we never really felt like we were "doing it right," and then when life got hard and our little efforts to pray didn't seem to make much difference, we just stopped.

For all sorts of reasons, it can be hard to pray sometimes, which makes this weekend's gospel story so important.

One day Jesus returned from praying by himself, something he did quite often, and one of the disciples asked him to teach them to pray, too. Keep in mind that they had been traveling with Jesus for months, hearing him teach with authority about God and witnessing him wield divine power. They were Jesus' closest companions, and while imperfect, they possessed a capacity for faith big enough to one day sacrifice their own lives for it. And yet, here they are, wondering what Jesus is doing when he goes off to pray.

If you ever have a hard time praying, or if you ever feel like you aren't sure what you're supposed to do when you close your eyes and clasp your hands, you are in good company. The disciples were there, too. They weren't sure where to start or what to say, either, and thanks to their honest admission of inadequacy, Jesus taught us how to pray.

Rivers of ink have been used to unpack the Lord's Prayer, and for good reason. In fewer than forty words, Jesus gets to the very heart of our relationship with God. It is the purest crystallization of how to come to God in faith, hope, and need, and if we only ever prayed these words – not merely reciting them, but prayingthem – it would be enough to open the door to the mystery of God. This is why the Lord's Prayer is said at every single liturgy in the Episcopal Church. It's why, after all the words of our Eucharistic Prayers, and after we say the "Great Amen" at the end, we then add one more prayer: the Lord's Prayer.

Considering how much has been written about this prayer by people much wiser than me, I want to share only a few thoughts, with an eye toward those who find it hard to pray sometimes. First, it's simple. It mainly focuses on food, forgiveness, and protection. Each of these petitions has deeper layers of meaning, too, but even the most profound encounters with God start with the basics. Don't ever think praying for your daily necessities, your struggling relationships, or your need for safety is "beneath God." Simple is a fantastic place to start.

Second, it's honest. Right after he teaches us his prayer, Jesus invites us to imagine prayer like going to a neighbor's house and banging on the door to ask for something you need. I love this analogy, because as anyone who's knocked on a neighbor's door knows, it's a humbling thing to ask for help. Humbling and honest. To get help, you have admit you need it. As Episcopalians, we are devoted to crafting pretty and poetic prayers, but when we're having a hard time praying, we need to remember that what matters most is that we're honest. Tell the truth. Ask for what you need, share how you really feel, and don't waste energy on posing or pretending.

Lastly, and this is the hardest one when we're struggling, prayer is based on trust. By this I don't mean that if we would only trust in God, we would get exactly what we ask for. That's not trust, that's a vending machine. Rather, trust has to do with believing God really is listening and interested in our well-being. Prayer is a mystery. How it works on God and how it affects our circumstances – these are mysteries. But the people I know who have the most life-sustaining prayer lives don't talk about God giving them everything they ask for. They talk about trusting God to answer the door when they knock, which gives them confidence to keep returning even when the answer to their prayer is not what they hoped for or expected. This sort of trust is less about getting what we want than having faith in the bigger purposes and possibilities of a loving God.     

This gospel comes at just the right moment, if you ask me. A lot of us are struggling with prayer these days, as we carry the weight of disasters and disappointments, hardships and worry. But we mustn't give up. Prayer is the lifeblood of the Christian. It is how we pump the goodness of God into our soul's veins. So make the disciples' request yours, too: Lord, teach me to pray. And then embrace his teaching to come back to God's door one more time and knock.