The General Instruction of the Liturgy of the Hours provides a chain of references to the New Testament which illustrate the abundance of Jesus’ personal prayer.⁸ Jesus prayed often. His daily work flowed from prayer. He also took part in public prayers and used the standard forms of prayer—for instance at meals. The decision in which he accepted death was formed and executed in prayer as an offering to the Father (see Jn 17; Heb 5.7).

Jesus commands us to pray (see Mt 5.44; 7.7; 26.41; Mk 14.38; Lk 6.28; 10.2; 11.9; 22.40, 46). St. Augustine beautifully summarizes the centrality of Jesus in Christian prayer: “God could give no greater gift to mankind than to give them as their head the Word through whom he created all things, and to unite them to him as his members, so that he might be Son of God and Son of man, one God with the Father, one man with men. So, when we speak to God in prayer we do not separate the Son from God, and when the body of the Son prays it does not separate its head from itself, but it is the one savior of his body, our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who himself prays for us, and prays in us, and is the object of our prayer. He prays for us as our priest, he prays in us as our head, he is the object of our prayer as our God. Let us then hear our voices in his voice, and his voice in ours.”⁹

By teaching his followers at the outset of his model prayer to think of God as their Father, Jesus shows the relationship between childlike humility and asking God in prayer for what one needs, namely, awareness of dependence, readiness to receive, confident hope, and persistence in expecting needed goods (see Mt 6.9–13; 7.7–11; Lk 11.1–4; 18.13).

According to a plausible interpretation, the point of the parable of the publican and the Pharisee is not so much the former’s self-abasement and the latter’s conceit (these are significant but secondary factors) as the former’s readiness to receive the pardon for which he is praying and the latter’s failure to realize that he still needs pardon and continuing conversion. The Pharisee trusted in himself, was self-righteous (Lk 18.9–14). In Luke this parable is followed immediately by the pericope on the children, which says that to enter God’s kingdom one must accept it as a child.

“Prayer” in the narrow sense is prayer of petition; the Lord’s prayer is a series of requests (see S.t., 2–2, q. 83, aa. 9, 17). Petition and thanks naturally go together; one who asks must express thanks for what already has been received and, in advance, for the next, hoped-for gift. Similarly, one who willingly and gratefully receives gifts readily asks for further gifts. Both asking God for all one needs and thanking him for all he gives are appropriate expressions of dependence on God, and thus essential consequences of the childlike attitude which belongs to Christian humility (26‑D). One might say that prayer is necessary to receive the goods God wills to give precisely because by this act one determines oneself into an attitude of humility—one holds out one’s hand to accept (see Mt 15.21–28; 17.14–21; Mk 7.24–30; 9.14–29).

Jesus illustrates this point with the parables of the friend who borrows bread at night (see Lk 11.5–8) and the woman who pesters the unjust judge until he responds to her petition (see Lk 18.1–8). Most charmingly, the point is shown in the narrative of the miracle performed for the persistent Canaanite woman; ready to liken herself to a puppy receiving scraps at the table, her humble faith obtains from Jesus the cure she desires (see Mt 15.21–28; Mk 7.24–30).

People who understand how prayer determines a person into a proper disposition to receive God’s gifts will not complain that they get little or nothing out of praying in certain ways prescribed or highly commended by the Church. Children frequently stop listening to their parents when the experience ceases to be gratifying, but often it is at just that point that they would benefit greatly from listening.

In view of this, it is easy to see how alien to the spirit of prayer is any liturgical format or development which turns the carrying out of the sacred acts into an artistic spectacle, however well executed, directed more toward a congregation as audience than from an ecclesial community to the Lord. One should participate in the liturgy for the sake of the liturgical act itself, not for the sake of one’s impact on other participants or outside observers. Liturgy should be done well as a participatory act, but not become a performance for any audience—except God.

Beyond the requirement of perseverance in prayer, what can this demand for constancy be taken to mean? Some have maintained that the requirement is that one engage continuously in explicit acts of prayer—or an explicit state of prayerful awareness—at least at the margin of one’s consciousness. Various methods have been developed in an effort to attain this objective.

St. Thomas realistically rejects this idea (see S.t., 2–2, q. 83, a. 14). One can give one’s full attention to only one thing at a time, and Christian life includes many acts besides prayer which ought to be given their due. However, one can maintain a constant desire to be in communion with God when an appropriate opportunity arises; one can avoid missing prayers; one can keep alive between times the devotion nourished during periods of prayer; one can pray through the prayer of others, as by benefices and stipends, and by sharing in the constant, liturgical prayer of the whole Church.

To all these ways in which prayer can be constant without its becoming a constant distraction from other important activities, one can add the true sense of the adage: To work is to pray. Not all work is prayer. But when one’s work in fact carries out the will of God which one has discerned and accepted with loving firmness in prayer, then indeed to work is to pray, and to fail to give one’s whole heart and attention to one’s work is to nullify prayer.