How do you feel when you see the word prayer in a sermon title, or when the preacher announces that today’s sermon is about prayer? Oh no. Here we go.

Not many of us feel like we pray enough. We might even pray a good deal, and even earnestly, and still feel a gnawing sense of guilt when the topic comes up, just like when the subject of evangelism comes up. Preachers know this. Do you want to make people feel guilty? Talk about prayer and evangelism. Few of us feel instinctively like we do enough of either.

Added to this, we have the pervasive secular assumptions of modern life — that all that matters is the seeable, hearable, touchable, tastable. The otherworldly, especially the divine, is unwelcome and even out of bounds in polite company. We’re bombarded with the secular vision and its effects daily, through screens and through relationships with people influenced by screens, and through people influenced by other people who have screens. You can’t escape the influence of secularism without totally withdrawing. The question is not whether you’re being influenced, but whether some other, greater influence is getting and keeping traction in your soul.

God will not have the prevailing influence in your life if his practical means of influence mainly feel obligatory. But God himself doesn’t intend for his means to be obligations. They are not means of duty but means of grace. As J.C. Ryle says,

The “means of grace” . . . such as Bible reading, private prayer, and regularly worshiping God in Church . . . are appointed channels through which the Holy Spirit conveys fresh supplies of grace to the soul.

I did not come to Oakhurst this weekend to make you feel guilty, nor did I come just to visit family (nice as that is); I came mainly because I want you to enjoy “fresh supplies of grace to your soul” through hearing God’s voice in his word, having his ear in prayer, and belonging to the covenant fellowship of the local church. In the Sunday school hour, we focused on God’s word; tonight, we’ll focus on fellowship. Now in these moments, we turn our attention to prayer.

Three Wonders of Prayer

My specific prayer this morning is that the Spirit of God, dwelling in you, might be pleased to begin or renew a shift in your perspective on prayer — a shift in your mind and in your heart from prayer as obligation to prayer as opportunity, from prayer as duty to prayer as delight, from prayer as burden and dread to prayer as blessing and joy.

In that hope, I’d like for us to linger over three wonders of Christian prayer, and close with a few ideas for practical prayer habits in our lives.

1. Our Father Not Only Speaks But Listens

We start here with a summary of our focus in the Sunday school hour: our God is a speaking God. The preamble to Christian prayer is that God speaks. Prayer is responsive. Prayer is talking to God, but it’s not a conversation we start. God initiates. He is communicative. He is talkative. He speaks first, and oh does he love to speak!

• He reveals himself in his creation (Romans 1:19–20).
• He reveals himself climactically in his Son (Hebrews 1:1–2; John 1:1, 14).
• He reveals himself in the God-breathed words of Scripture (2 Timothy 3:16; 2 Peter 1:20–21).

Then, amazingly, this Great Speaker himself stops and stoops. He cups his ear, and motions to us to speak. “What do you think? What do you feel? What do you need?” Our Father wants to hear from his children. He wants us to pray to him in view of who he’s revealed himself to be.

So, in prayer, we his creatures and his children respond to our Father’s words in our own words. Prayer is speaking to the God who has spoken first, responding to the God who has initiated the relationship and conversation. And we pray to God as our Father. The true God is not a distant, distracted deity. We don’t need cheat codes, flailing arms, or repeated phrases to seize his attention.

Amazingly, God himself loves his people, smiles on us, and is gladly attentive to our needs. He wants to hear from his children and make them happy forever in him. He wants us to pray to him as “our Father” — which is an especially Christlike way to pray.

Call Him ‘Father’

Ancient Israelites knew God’s covenant name (Yahweh) and approached him in worship and prayer in view of his covenant love and faithfulness, but they did not dare to call him “Father.” Calling God “Father” is new in the human life and ministry of Jesus. And when Jesus taught his disciples (and us) to pray, he began with “Our Father . . .” Repeatedly, particularly in the Gospel of John, Jesus calls the God of Israel “Father.” Especially memorable is his own extended prayer to his Father in John 17, on the night before he died:

Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you. . . . And now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had with you before the world existed. . . . Holy Father, keep [the people you have given me] in your name, which you have given me, that they may be one, even as we are one . . . just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. . . . Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world. O righteous Father, even though the world does not know you, I know you, and these know that you have sent me. (John 17:1, 5, 11, 21, 24, 25)

Jesus calling God “Father” is not only modeling for us how to pray, but this is also an invitation for how to draw near to God — as our loving, gracious, generous heavenly Father.

However, we sinners need more than Jesus’s example and invitation. Being sinners, rebels, undeserving of God’s riches — in fact, deserving of his punishments — how can we, in honesty and not utter naivety, call the living God “Father”? God may indeed speak to sinners like us, but does he listen? And listen as a Father? That leads to a second wonder.

2. God’s Son Secures and Certifies Our Access to God’s Ear

Now let’s go to two passages in Hebrews: Hebrews 4:14–16 and 10:19–23. Perhaps you looked at these this week, or even this morning, and thought, Huh, these seem very similar. They are. And they are structurally and conceptually central for the epistle to the Hebrews.

“God will not have the prevailing influence in your life if his practical means of influence mainly feel obligatory.”

You could see all of Hebrews 1–4 as an extended introduction, chapters 11–13 as the extended conclusion, and chapters 5–10 as the heart, the main body and message. And of those middle chapters, 5–7 portray Jesus as the great and final high priest, and 8–10 show him to be the great and final sacrifice. That’s the heart of Hebrews: the person of Christ as our priest, and the work of Christ as our sacrifice.

These two parallel passages in chapters 4 and 10 are like the entrance and exit to the heart of the letter, and they express the main pastoral burden of the letter: Draw near to God, hold fast to Jesus. Don’t coast, don’t drift, don’t fall away. Don’t stop believin’, but cling to Jesus, and draw near to God in him.

So, I want to read both passages to you, back to back, and as I do, listen for six emphases they have in common:

1. the mention of the great high priest,
2. whose personal name is Jesus,
3. who has passed through the heavens (the curtain) into the very presence of God, and therefore
4. the call to hold fast our faith in him,
5. to draw near to God through him, and
6. to do so with confidence

And to be clear, this relates to more than prayer, but no less than prayer — and for now, prayer is perhaps the signature expression of our drawing near. Hebrews 4:14–16 says,

Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Now, here’s Hebrews 10:19–23:

Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, the first note struck here is that we have the great and final high priest! We have him already, right now. He has come at long last. He died as the great and final sacrifice for our sin. He rose in triumph over sin and death, and he ascended, going through the heavens, through the curtain, into the very presence of God Almighty, where he sat down, his work complete, at the right hand of Majesty.

We have him. This is no longer a future promise. This is a present reality! So, hold fast your trust in him, and your confession of him as Lord. And with confidence, with boldness, with surety, draw near — with your whole life, drawing near to him through his word, and drawing near to him with his church, and in particular drawing near to him in prayer. That’s the joint message of the two passages.

Boldness to Approach

Now, there are a couple of additions in Hebrew 10. The first is in Hebrews 10:19–20:

We have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us.

This is new with the coming and ascending of Jesus. The old way of the temple and its priests and rituals and escalating spaces of holiness, from the court of the Gentiles to the common Jews, to the Holy Place, to the Holy of Holies — that whole temple cultus — wasn’t the real thing. It was symbolic (Hebrews 9:9); it anticipated the real thing, which didn’t come until Jesus came and rose and went into heaven as our pioneer. In Jesus, we have a new and living way into the very presence of God that was not available to Abraham, not available to Moses, not available to David, not available to Isaiah and Jeremiah and Ezekiel, but now new to us who are in Christ. What an opportunity!

A second added detail is Hebrews 10:22:

let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.

What does Hebrews mean by “our hearts sprinkled clean” and “our bodies washed with pure water”? And how does that lead to our being able to draw near to God with confidence, especially in prayer?

This mention of sprinkling goes back to Moses and the people of Israel who had escaped slavery in Egypt. At Mount Sinai, God makes his covenant with them, and to enter the covenant, the people offer sacrifices in Exodus 24, and Moses takes the blood (“the blood of the covenant”) and throws half against the altar, representing God. The other half, he throws — that is, he sprinkles — on the people.

In this physical act of flinging animal blood on the people, something more than the mere physical is happening. In and of itself, the sprinkled blood doesn’t do anything to change the people or deal finally with their sins. But by this act, this memorable act, the people enter into covenant with God.

And if you were to ask an Israelite a few months later, “Hey, how do you know you’re in covenant with God?” one answer he might give is, “I remember the blood sprinkled on us. A drop landed on my left shoulder. It was real; it happened. I can assure you I’m part of the people in covenant with God. I had the blood of the covenant on me.”

Washed and Sprinkled

But now Hebrews 10 takes this to a new-covenant level. Hebrews 10:22 says that in Christ we have had “our hearts sprinkled clean.” How did that happen? Through faith. Faith in the heart trusts that when Jesus died on the cross, and shed his blood — objectively, publicly, unquestionably, indisputably — his life was standing in for mine. His death was the death I deserved.

But faith like this isn’t quite as cut-and-dried for the Christian as blood on the shoulder was for the ancient Israelite. There’s still some subjectivity here with faith. Jesus’s sacrifice is objective, but how do I know I’m included? My heart was sprinkled, not my shirt. And so, Hebrews draws in the new-covenant inauguration ritual, baptism, to help: “. . . and our bodies washed with pure water.” Baptism represents the washing away of sin in our hearts, in the inner person, but baptism is also external and objective and memorable. If you were baptized as a believer, and baptized in a faithful church community of reasonably diligent and discerning Christians (who were saying, in effect, through baptizing you, “We believe you truly believe and Jesus’s blood covers you”), then remember that baptism as support for your assurance, and pray with confidence.

Baptism is not just a drop on your shirt, but your whole body submerged in water, saying, “This one belongs to Jesus. This one has saving faith.” Remember that event, and draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith. How precious is a good believer-baptism! It didn’t save you, but God means for it to help assure you that you’re saved through faith in Jesus — and help you to come confidently in prayer.

So, the Father not only speaks but listens. And the Son secures and certifies our access to God’s ear in prayer. That’s it, right? Should we pray to close?

Well, not so fast. If only our lives were so simple! They are not. We have our ups and downs, our seasons of dullness and doubt, our struggles, our indwelling sin, our weaknesses — oh so many weaknesses, no matter how much we try to project ourselves as strong. And so, there is one more critical wonder of Christian prayer.

3. God’s Spirit Helps Us in Our Weakness

Let’s finish with Romans 8:26–27, and this is so precious for the wonder and power of prayer, and it is perhaps often overlooked in our day. Romans 8:26–27 says,

The Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, when you pray, you pray as one who has the Holy Spirit of God dwelling in you. God himself has taken up residence in you. This is almost too good to be true. In a way that was not part and parcel of God’s first covenant with Israel, the risen and glorified Christ has poured out and given his Spirit to dwell in new-covenant Christians (John 7:38–39).

Now, our having the Spirit (Romans 8:9, 23) does not mean we own or control him. He also has us too. He is in us, and we are in him (Romans 8:5, 9). He is “sent into our hearts” (Galatians 4:6), given to us (Romans 5:5; etc), supplied to us (Galatians 3:5), and not just once but ongoingly (Ephesians 1:17; 1 Thessalonians 4:8). Through faith, we receive him (Romans 8:15; etc). And so, as the New Testament makes plain in several places, the Spirit dwells in us (Romans 8:9–11; etc) and prompts, empowers, and guides our prayers (Romans 8:26–27; Ephesians 6:18; Jude 20).

For Christians, there is a special relationship between our prayers and our having the Holy Spirit. Ephesians 6:17–18 says to “take . . . the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication.” And Jude 20–21 says, “You, beloved, building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in the love of God.” God doesn’t just want to hear from us and open the way to him, leaving it in our court. He gives us his own Spirit, in us, to prompt our hearts to pray, to enable us to pray, and as Romans 8 says, to pray for us when we don’t know what to pray.

Getting Practical

So, as men and women of the gospel, fed by God’s word, flanked by our fellows in Christ, we cultivate habits of prayer in three main spheres: secret (Matthew 6:5–6), with company in our marriages, families, and churches, and as regular anchor points in our lives (1 Thessalonians 5:17; Romans 12:12; Colossians 4:2). We have the opportunity to punctuate our lives with prayer and take the seams of our days as prompts to pray.

We turn general intentions into specific plans. We find our regular times and places. Our prayers are scheduled and spontaneous — in the car, at the table, in bed. We pray through Scripture, in response to God’s word. We adore, confess, give thanks, and petition. We learn to pray by praying, and by praying with others.

And we end on this note. Lest you think of prayer as simply asking God for things, let’s clarify what is the great purpose of Christian prayer: that God himself would be our joy. C.S. Lewis says this so memorably:

Prayer in the sense of petition, asking for things, is a small part of it; confession and penitence are its threshold, adoration its sanctuary, the presence and vision and enjoyment of God its bread and wine. (“The Efficacy of Prayer,” 7)

Brothers and sisters in Christ, in light of the Father’s listening ear, the Son’s securing and certifying achievement, and the Spirit’s amazing indwelling and prompting and help, I hope that you would not leave here this morning feeling guilty or under obligation, but that a shift might begin or continue in you — from obligation to opportunity.

Prayer is an opportunity to enjoy “fresh supplies of grace” to your soul, the best of which is the enjoyment of God himself.