Introduction to Prayer
Prayer is not just a religious practice—it is a relationship. At its heart, prayer is the personal and living connection between the human soul and the living God. As St. John Damascene explains, “Prayer is the raising of one’s mind and heart to God or the requesting of good things from God” (On the Orthodox Faith 3,24). But prayer is more than asking—it is loving, listening, and living in God’s presence.
St. Thérèse of Lisieux called prayer a “surge of the heart,” a simple look toward heaven in love and trust. This image reminds us that prayer does not require eloquence. It begins wherever we are, however we are, when we turn to God.
Importantly, God always initiates this relationship. Prayer is never just our attempt to reach God—it is our response to His invitation. As St. Augustine wrote, “Man is a beggar before God”—not in shame, but in trust and longing for the One who created us in love.
This invitation to prayer runs through all of Scripture. In the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve walked with God in the cool of the day (Genesis 3:8). In the final vision of Revelation, the redeemed behold His face forever (Revelation 22:4). From beginning to end, the story of salvation is a story of relationship—a call to return, to listen, and to walk with God.
The saints and Church Fathers speak of prayer not as a duty, but as breath. St. Gregory of Nazianzus says, “We must remember God more often than we draw breath.” And St. Isaac the Syrian writes, “The highest form of prayer is to stand silently in awe before God.”
Prayer is both natural and transcendent. It arises from the heart of a creature made in God's image, and it is sustained by the grace of the Creator who desires to dwell with His children.
Who Should Pray?
Everyone. Every human being is called to prayer because every human heart is created with a desire for God. This desire is written into our very nature. From the beginning of creation, God has invited humanity into communion with Him. Adam walked with God in the garden. Abraham spoke with Him as a friend. David poured out his heart in the Psalms.
St. Augustine expressed this universal longing when he wrote: “You have made us for Yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” This yearning is not a flaw—it is a reflection of our origin and destiny in God.
Yet many today hesitate to pray. Some feel unworthy or uncertain. Others sense a hunger for something deeper, but do not yet know how to name it. They may not have grown up with prayer, or may feel they’ve wandered too far to return. And still others carry within themselves a quiet, unspoken ache—a longing that nothing in this world seems to satisfy. They may not yet know what they are seeking, but the longing itself is a kind of prayer waiting to be spoken. To them, too, the invitation is extended.
Jesus speaks to these very hearts when He says: “Come to Me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)
Prayer is not reserved for the spiritually elite or the morally polished. It is for the tired, the doubtful, the seeking, and the wounded. In fact, it is especially in weakness that true prayer begins. St. Macarius the Great teaches: “The soul that truly seeks the Lord must be tried and proved by temptations. In weakness is the beginning of prayer.”
This means that weakness is not a barrier—it is the doorway. God uses even our struggles to draw us closer to Himself. And prayer does not have to be complex. St. John Climacus writes in The Ladder of Divine Ascent: “Let your prayer be completely simple. For the tax collector and the prodigal son were reconciled to God with a single phrase.”
In the end, prayer is not about being worthy—it is about being willing. Every heart is invited. Every soul can respond.
Why Should We Pray?
We pray because we were made for communion with God. Prayer is not an optional practice for the spiritually inclined—it is the very heart of our relationship with the One who created us in love. To pray is to return to that relationship, to respond to the God who speaks first.
Prayer draws us into the mystery of God and also into the mystery of ourselves. Through prayer:
- We come to know God—not merely ideas about Him, but His presence, His voice, and His mercy.
- We come to know ourselves—prayer is a mirror that reveals our desires, fears, sins, wounds, and longings.
- We grow in faith—as we pray, trust deepens and love matures.
As the psalmist says: “Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)
In the stillness of prayer, we discover who God is—and who we truly are.
Prayer also changes us. It softens the heart, clarifies the mind, and strengthens the will. Over time, we are conformed to the likeness of Christ. St. Paul writes: “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being changed into His likeness from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.” (2 Corinthians 3:18)
St. Gregory of Nyssa echoes this beautifully: “As painters transfer human features onto canvas by the harmony of many colors, so the soul, through the practice of virtue and prayer, takes on the form of Christ and becomes a reflection of divine beauty.”
Prayer is not only personal—it is participatory. Through prayer, we join in the life of the Church and in the saving work of Christ. As Moses interceded for Israel, and as Mary gave her fiat at the Annunciation, so too our prayers become part of God’s work in the world.
As St. Theophan the Recluse writes: “Prayer is the test of everything; if prayer is right, everything is right.”
Prayer is not about technique or guaranteed results. It is about love—a relationship lived daily. Sometimes that love feels warm and full; sometimes it is dry or hidden. But always, God is near. And through prayer, we draw near to Him.
How Should We Pray?
Prayer is as vast and varied as the human heart. The Church, drawing from Scripture and centuries of experience, teaches us that there are different kinds of prayer, each expressing a distinct movement of the soul toward God:
- Blessing and Adoration – We praise and honor God simply for who He is: holy, mighty, immortal, and full of glory.
- Praise – We rejoice in God not just for His blessings, but for His very being.
- Petition – We bring our needs before Him, beginning with a cry for mercy and continuing with trust in His providence.
- Intercession – We pray on behalf of others, joining Christ who “always lives to make intercession for them.” (Hebrews 7:25)
- Thanksgiving – We give thanks for all He has given—creation, salvation, and the gifts of each day.
These forms of prayer can be expressed in several ways:
- Vocal prayer allows us to speak aloud or silently—using familiar prayers like the Our Father or our own words. Whether alone or with others, this kind of prayer connects heart and voice.
- Meditation engages our minds and hearts, often by slowly reading Scripture or sacred texts, allowing the Word to shape us.
- Contemplation is silent, loving presence before God. It asks nothing, says little, and simply abides. As St. Symeon the New Theologian wrote, “Let us seek silence above all things, for in silence we hear the Spirit’s whisper.”
Jesus Himself guides us into this interior life, saying: “When you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret.” (Matthew 6:6)
Prayer does not require performance. It requires presence. It is not measured in eloquence but in sincerity. The Fathers often repeat: to pray is not merely to speak to God—it is to stand before Him.
St. Evagrius of Pontus teaches: “If you are a theologian, you will truly pray. And if you truly pray, you are a theologian.”
This means that true prayer is both the foundation and the fruit of spiritual understanding.
What matters most is not the form, but the heart: humility, trust, and love. Whether in the beauty of liturgy, the quiet of a morning chair, or the cry of a soul in distress, prayer remains a living conversation with the God who calls us by name.
As St. Isaac the Syrian encourages: “Make peace with yourself, and heaven and earth will make peace with you. Be diligent in prayer, and your heart will be enlightened.”
How Do I Pray?
Begin simply. Prayer is not a performance, but a relationship. You do not need special knowledge or perfect words—only a willing heart. Set aside a few quiet minutes each day. Stand, sit or kneel - perhaps before the Cross or an icon of Christ. Take a breath. And speak honestly to God.
If you don’t know where to begin, begin with the Lord’s Prayer. Or open the Psalms and read one aloud. Let their words become your own. You can also speak to God in your own words, just as you would to a trusted friend—offering thanks, asking questions, expressing sorrow, or simply being still.
A particularly beloved and ancient form of prayer is the Jesus Prayer: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” This simple, rhythmic prayer can be repeated throughout the day, allowing the heart to rest in the presence of Christ.
One helpful practice is lectio divina, or “divine reading.” Choose a short passage of Scripture. Read it slowly. Let a word or phrase sink into your heart. Pause. Reflect. Let the silence become prayer. The goal is not analysis—it is encounter.
St. Theophan the Recluse advises: “Stand before God with the attitude of a beggar, stripped of all things, waiting for mercy.”
This posture of humility and dependence is the beginning of real prayer.
Consistency matters more than length. Let prayer become a rhythm in your day—morning and evening, or in quiet moments throughout. Even short, simple prayers—“Lord, have mercy,” “Thank You,” “Stay with me”—can open the heart to grace.
And when you don’t know how to pray, take heart: you are not praying alone. As St. Paul reminds us: “The Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” (Romans 8:26)
Prayer is not about getting it right. It is about showing up—and letting God meet you there.
What Should I Expect When I Pray?
Expect God’s presence—but not always in the way you might imagine. Prayer is not always emotional, and God’s nearness is not always felt. Sometimes prayer feels dry, unrewarding, or silent. These moments are not signs of failure. They are invitations to deeper trust.
The early Church Fathers often remind us: have no expectations in prayer. God is faithful, but He is also free. He may remain hidden. He may speak without words. He may answer in ways we do not understand. Like Job, we may cry out in pain and receive no reply. The Lord may never speak in the way we desire. He may never speak or we may never hear Him. Yet this silence is not absence—it is the mystery of a God who acts beyond what we can see or understand.
St. Isaac the Syrian writes:
“When God wishes to show His mercy, He does so not according to our expectations, but according to the measure of His wisdom.”
Do not be discouraged by silence. Prayer bears fruit, often invisibly. Over time, it humbles us, teaches patience, and forms us in peace.
St. Isaac the Syrian also says:
“The sign of true prayer is not consolation but compunction.”
Consolation is the sweetness or peace we sometimes feel in prayer—a sense that God is near. Compunction is deeper. It is sorrow for sin, a longing for mercy, a tear that wells up seemingly from despair but really from love. A person may never feel anything in prayer and yet grow more gentle, patient, or forgiving. That, too, is the work of grace.
The reward is not always comfort. It is sometimes clarity, sometimes peace, and sometimes simply the knowledge that we are not alone. And sometimes nothing. Often, we bring very real and painful needs to God—requests for healing, restoration, guidance, or help—and find that they are not answered in the way we hoped, or not answered at all. We may never know why. Even in our pain, God may remain silent. These moments do not mean that prayer has failed. Rather, they lead us deeper into the mystery of God's will, where faith does not rest on outcomes, but on trust in His love. What God gives in prayer is always Himself—even if we do not yet recognize Him.
Prayer is not a technique to master or a spiritual reward to earn. It is a gift. In prayer, we show up. We stand before God—even in darkness. And we trust that the One who sees in secret will meet us, even if we do not yet recognize Him.
Conclusion
Prayer is both gift and journey. It is not something we master, but a relationship we grow into. It begins with God’s invitation and continues with our response—whether through words, silence, tears, or trust.
There is no perfect formula. Only the offering of the heart. We pray not to impress, but to be present. We pray not to achieve something, but to receive Someone. We pray not because we are strong, but because we are in need.
Whether you are full of faith or struggling to believe—begin. Begin again. Let prayer become your turning toward the One who has already turned His face toward you.
The path of prayer is not always easy, but it is always open. And at the end of that path is not a feeling, or a result, or even an answer—but God Himself.
"Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner."
This article borrows heavily from the Church Fathers and the Cathechism of the Catholic Church (the section on prayer is excellent).