Imagination and Prayer

For this reason, I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name (Ephesians 3:14-15).

Concerning prayer, there are two questions or complaints that come my way regularly: “I don’t know what to pray for” and “My prayers are short, I think they should be longer.”

My response to the second complaint is to shrug my shoulders saying, “Don’t worry about it.” Then I quote Jesus who specifically said, “God is not impressed by long prayers” (that’s my paraphrase of Matthew 6:7). There are a few longish prayers in the Bible; most, like the one our text is from, are quite short.

In answer to the second complaint, I point people towards the Bible: read the prayers in the Bible as your own. Offer them to God. If you ponder them, they will fuel your imagination.

Consider with me our text which begins “For this reason…” If you have jumped in halfway through this letter, this is your invitation to start at the beginning to discover what Paul is referencing. He has been exploring the great cosmic scope of God’s redemption plan in Christ. Often, we limit this to human souls, suggesting that God offers Jesus as an escape route from this world. But Paul will have none of that. In the cross, God reconciles all people into a new community which we know as the church. This fellowship is the show piece of God’s saving work, demonstrating his wisdom before all the powers of the world.

Here are reasons for praise and adoration, for thanksgiving and delight, for petition and pleading.

Then he says, “I kneel before the father”. Thus, kneeling in prayer has a good Biblical foundation. Of course, it is not the only posture given in scripture. Laying face down gets more press. But the actual posture is not of greatest import. What matters is the posture of the soul, heart and mind. We can start praying with any number of postures: anger, frustration, boredom. Yet, if we are paying attention to what we are doing, namely, addressing God, somehow prayer always brings us to our knees, the work of the Spirit, no doubt. When we address God, we tend to relax into submission.

From this place of submission, we discover ourselves on our father’s lap. He cares for us. He loves us. It matters to him that we are angry, or frustrated, or bored. He holds us until we come to that place of trust and rest again. We discover that despite the negative postures with which we have entered prayer, attitudes which often bring shame, our father has held on to us. He has not turned away from us.

Soon, we discover that we are not the only ones he is concerned about. He loves all his people. So, we look around and see some rejoicing and we share our father’s joy. We see others in pain, having been abused, bodies riddled with disease, carrying the brokenness their own sins have caused. We find ourselves grieving right along with our father. And we pray for them.

We see his church hands raised in adoration, broken by division, puffed up with pride, indifferent to the mission given, and in other places carrying it out gracefully. Some of his children resisting the reconciliation of the cross. We feel his sorrow for these children. We petition and plead for the Spirit to sanctify; to descend in power; to do his work.

We see friends and family running away from our father or indifferent to his invitations. From our place of submission, prayers for them leak out of us. That they would head his entreaties, that they would stop running. Before the father, we discover there is so much to pray for. And we conclude with,

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. (Ephesians 3:17-21).