There’s an aversion in modern Christianity to fixed prayers, liturgies, prayer books, and all of that stuff. And it’s a very modern worry. Hardly anyone in church history would recognise a modern Christian Church service. Or a modern Christian private prayer time and devotional, as they call it. 

The demise of fixed prayers, like in the prayer book, coincided with the rise of the seemingly superior values of individualism and authenticity. Unless my devotional practices, public or private, are my own, formed by me expressing who I am in this moment, then they probably lack true significance. That’s the idea. 

There’s a related aversion to anything rote. Rote learning in school went out roughly at the same time as the rise of this authentic self stuff. Rote learning was thought to externalise knowledge instead of helping a student imbibe the knowledge through personal discovery. 

Worship by rote went out with education by rote. Rote prayers, it was thought, are a mere shell of religion, not the heartfelt centre. But I’m with the ancients on this. Ancient pagan writers like Plato, Epicurus, Cicero, Plutarch and many others all knew that rote learning could of course be abused so that a student never moved beyond the fixed forms. 

But they also insisted that rote learning was the foundation of genuine intellectual creativity. The person who learnt to recite large portions of Homer’s Iliad, for example, would over time gain an ear for the very best of Greek grammar and poetry. Those who memorised the best speeches of the most famous orators eventually imbibed what makes for compelling rhetoric, so that they could produce their own. They thought about rote learning a bit like the way musicians think about learning scales or learning the standards of a musical genre. This doesn’t hinder authenticity and individuality, it provides a platform for them. 

Well, that’s how I think of the prayer book. They are the best of Christian history. They lift me above my ordinary self. I don’t wanna pray just according to my ever changing spiritual moods. Praying how I feel in the moment might be authentically me. But I’m not sure the best spirituality resides in me. I’m a very low bar, fixed prayers lift me. (I’ll get Al to put in the show notes, my favourite prayer book prayers)

But more importantly, Jesus himself taught a fixed permanent prayer to be said word for word by anyone who wanted to be his student. We call it the Lord’s Prayer, or the Our Father because it begins with “our Father in heaven –

hallowed be your name,

your Kingdom come,

your will be done,

on Earth as it is in heaven. 

Give us today our daily bread. 

Forgive us our sins (or trespassers in the old language),

as we forgive those who sin against us.

And lead us not into temptation, 

but deliver us from evil. 

(Then there’s a little extra bit the church added a few decades later)

For the Kingdom, the power and the glory are yours, now and forever. Amen. 

There’s a modern evangelical worry about even seeing the Lord’s Prayer as a fixed prayer. This would seem totally weird to just about every Christian from the first century to the nineteenth century. I mean, one of the earliest Christian documents outside the New Testament is the Didache from the very end of the first century. And it urges people to say the Lord’s Prayer three times a day. 

The modern aversion to this is sometimes justified by reference to the word ‘how’ in Matthew 6:9. Jesus introduces his prayer with the words, “this is how you should pray, ‘Our Father in heaven..’” etc. Some say that Jesus just meant this is the how, the style, the vibe of prayer. But there’s no how in the Greek. It literally says, “thusly you are to pray, ‘Our Father in heaven…’” etc. And the version of the Lord’s Prayer recorded in Luke chapter 11 is even clearer. Jesus introduces his Our Father with, “when you pray, say, ‘Our Father in heaven…’” etc.

Contemporary culture sometimes dismisses traditions like saying the Lord’s Prayer daily as inauthentic. But I’d say refusing to pray set prayers, and only settling for my own creations, is evidence that I believe in my own soul more than external truths. I’ll be frank, I’ve grown tired of chasing authenticity, of striving for what is new. I’m sick of fads, faddish books, faddish preachers, faddish programmes. I want an anchor. I don’t want to be at sea. 

I don’t want to be captive to my little moment of Christian history, my blip of culture. I wanna swim in the great stream of the very best of Christian history, not just the prayer book, but above all the Lord’s prayer. So whether you are a Christian or not, I want to suggest say the Lord’s Prayer. Say it with understanding, daily, and see what new things this most ancient thing brings.

By John Dickson