“I pray because it’s a Halacha to pray.”

Photo by Gianna Trewavas on Unsplash

This post is part of my ongoing project ‘Talking with God’, focused on the religious practices and beliefs of Jews, Christians, and Muslims. Names have been changed to protect their privacy, and all quotes are given with permission. For more information or to get involved, contact me at: meli.solomon@hebrewcollege.edu.

Prayer is undoubtedly at the center of a relationship with God for many observant people. As part of the cluster of observance including ritual, study, and moral living, the nature of a prayer conversation is extremely varied. In contrast to proscribed communal prayers, solitary prayers are conversations with God, often done in silence—a time to pour out one’s fears, hopes, and emotions directly and personally. How and when this happens is the question.

Most of the participants in my ‘Talking with God’ project have a practice. Some, especially the more conservative, have a daily practice while others often aspire to more regularity. The Orthodox Jews and Muslims follow the proscribed three- or five-daily prayer regimen, respectively. However attentive they are, Daniel expressed a common attitude in saying: “the fact that I’ve decided to bend my will to what I perceive of as God’s will, the fact that I am a person who doesn’t only think of myself but also is willing to put out X amount of time every day” is very meaningful.

Beyond that, the amount and intentionality of practice is quite varied. As with other practices, attentiveness proves rewarding. One participant, Bradley, is a long-time Anglican, and he and his wife have a lovely evening practice that helps them connect with God and one another. They start by reviewing what has happened that day and what is coming up, then he will say prayers for their concerns, and she will add anything missed. “We begin with something by way of praise, then we usually move on to requests, and then we look to things that we can thank God for.” For those with a regular practice, setting aside a time in the day when they can slow down and pay attention—to tune into themselves, their partner and God—is key. While a deep spiritual connection is not guaranteed, they are creating the “arena for God’s stuff to happen” as Daniel said.

Unfortunately, busy schedules or lack of community are frequent challenges, foiling the best intentions to have a daily routine. Fatima, a Muslim college student, admitted sheepishly: “I’m not very proud of this, but I don’t pray five times a day. It’s been a while since I’ve done that.” Now studying in America, she is away from her community and family routine in Somaliland. Others use traditional times of rising, meals, and bedtime as natural prompts for gratitude, if not always expressed in traditional words. My own practice reflects this organic flow, and though my prayers have varied in attentiveness over the years, the built-in structure of daily activities offers opportunities to bring some holiness into a secular activity. The more I manage to integrate observance into my days—however modest the effort—the more attuned I am to the holy in the world and within me. The structure may be externally created, but the results are felt internally.

Even within a committed practice, a few Christians mentioned using the Rosary or acronyms to structure their prayers, a practical and effective response to our tendency toward distraction or praying only with requests. One acronym that some people use is PRAY: Praise, Repentance, Ask, and Yield. Another is ACT: Adoration, Contrition, and Thanksgiving. Outside of such structures are more eclectic approaches, with practices developed over the years. Lydia, an American Seventh-day Adventist, commented that she’s become less structured. “I used to pray a lot more formally, and with an agenda—and for many years a huge part of that agenda was for my marriage to heal.” When her marriage ended in divorce, her belief in prayer shifted, along with her stance toward her church’s conservative views on marriage. “Real life is messier.”

Spontaneous prayer can happen anywhere, anytime—while exercising, being in nature, or sitting in the kitchen or a café—in response to the day’s events. “[Prayer] is a very fluid activity for me,” Susan commented about her internal dialogue. Similarly, though more publicly, Ilsa talked about praying with people at her favorite ice cream parlor, or if praying with them seemed inappropriate, gathering their pain and praying for them at home. This interweaving of prayer into the day is not the case for all. Natalie uses her commute, as it is the only time she is alone. The thirty-minute drive between family and hospital is precious time for reflection and sorting through the day.

Peggy, an American Born-Again Christian, sends ‘arrow prayers’ to God as needed. She describes her practice in this way:

In one of the Epistles in the New Testament [1 Thessalonians 5:17], there’s a verse that says “pray without ceasing.” It’s about being aware that God is there. When I read Scripture, hear a great teaching, or as I sing, gratitude often wells up in me. Sometimes I become overwhelmed by God’s character or His love for me, which then leads me to prayers of praise, adoration, repentance or surrender, as well as intercessions for people.

Maintaining an ongoing dialogue with God is common, though some do not think of it as prayer. For Harold, an observant Jew, it is a meditation, while Julie, a Reform Jew, is less sure: “I don’t think I pray. I think and I hope, and I direct some of that hope and thought to places and people that need some of that energy, or who are hurting in some emotional or physical way. I don’t know, is that praying?” Similarly, Fatima remarked on the language: “I feel like in the English language, a lot of things are meant in the name of prayer, so in that definition, [I’m] praying every night. But in ours, I’m not since I’m saying the informal Dua not the obligatory Salat.”

An aspect of this flow that touched me was the sense of God’s immediacy and accessibility that some people feel. Marina, a devout Jehovah’s Witness, compared personal prayers to calling a friend on the telephone. She added that although God is the Almighty, He is always available, and you don’t need to make an appointment. Another Christian feels similarly toward Christ: “Jesus is my friend and I can talk with Him as I would to a friend.” This influences her speech as well because she chooses personal language rather than reading formulated words. In contrast, a Jew and Muslim each noted the value of using their holy language. For Carolyn, the language of prayer is a divine language and using the ancient honed language is best.

Among all the practices, the sheer range of experience and evolution of practice stands out. However settled someone’s prayer practice might be now, each is unique and the product of experimentation and change. Striving toward nearness to God is an ongoing process.