Long prayers in public probably have a use —they serve to display a preacher's vocabulary. If that be a proper purpose in prayer, then long prayers are justified. I cannot think of any other justification. We preachers often fail to understand what public prayer is, and for what purpose it is intended. We sometimes get to look upon it as an oration, in commencing which we must not fail to bring in the thought of "omnipotence, omnipresence, and eternity," and must close with "the kingdom, the power, and the glory forever and ever." Public prayer thus becomes a fluent speech, with sonorous and impressive phrases, a formal address upon everything in general and nothing in particular.
But eloquent, pompous speeches and long-drawn-out prayer orations are scarcely in harmony with the model that has been given us. Our Lord taught us how to pray. The prayer He composed is so short that we would finish it before we get fairly started on the introduction of some modern prayers. And some of us scarcely ever use it except as an appendix to a prayer of our own. Is it impertinent to ask whether we know so much more about praying than Jesus did that we must attempt to improve on His instructions? Five minutes would be sufficient for the reverential utterance of any prayer recorded in the Bible. The Lord's prayer is less than half a minute in length. The most effectual prayers recorded in the Scriptures are astonishingly short and direct.
Peter would have sunk a hundred fathoms beneath the waves before he could have gone through the introduction of the average ministerial prayer. But his "Lord, save me!" brought him instant help. About to perish in the surges of Galilee, with no time for stately forms of speech, the disciples' cry, "Lord, save us; we perish," reached the Saviour's ear and called forth the command that hushed the tempest to quietness.
"Help Thou mine unbelief" was a short prayer, but it brought results. "God be merciful to me a sinner" was not one fifth as long as the Pharisee's pompous speech, but he who uttered it went down to his house justified, while the Pharisee's prayer was in vain. "Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy kingdom" was a short prayer. But I know of none more effective or more gloriously answered. It opened the doors of eternal life to the thief.
In the face of these impressive examples, what wastes of dreary platitudes men traverse under the guise of offering prayer. What whines some affect, what sobbing tones, what stereotyped forms, when asking our heavenly Father for the things they need. Much that is called prayer, if addressed to any other being, would not only amaze but disgust whoever heard it.
One trouble is that many persons do not pray their own prayers. They employ phrases they have heard others use. One expression may be part of an old father's prayer. It meant something when that dear man used it, but it does not mean much on another's lips. Another expression is perhaps taken from old Elder —'s prayer. And so bits of prayer, sacred odds and ends, have been strung together until we are reminded of Joseph's coat. And when a man undertakes to go through with all these phrases and forms, never missing one, it is not surprising that the prayer is long. It may embody the prayers of ancestors to the third and fourth generation, and yet have no vital relation to the present needs of the heart and soul. We should remember that vain repetitions are the mark of heathen prayers. Anciently, long prayers were a pretense that covered the devouring of widows’ houses.
The best prayers are those that bring answers. No matter how brief, only let them be the honest cries of broken hearts. Let us rid ourselves, brethren, of all this wearisome circumlocution and cumbersome formality, and come to an honest statement of our present needs before the Lord. Let us make our own requests in our own language. Let us use words we can spell, and pronounce, and define. Let us discard the set phrases. Above all, let us seek to follow the inward intercession of the Holy Spirit, "Lord, teach us to pray."
