It’s interesting to listen to others pray. I was at a lunch meeting yesterday, and our speaker opened with prayer by saying, “Daddy.”
I hadn’t heard that word used in public prayer before – and I’ve heard a lot of public prayer over the years – but I remember feeling fine with it.
After lunch, on the elevator ride down from the 28th floor, I listened as two men, who were also at the lunch, debated the use of the word “daddy” in prayer. One of them said, disapprovingly, “I come from a Southern Baptist background, and that word would never have been used in prayer.” The other man seemed to think it was just fine. He listed a half dozen churches he attends in the community and mentioned that all of them would be fine with it. (My church was not on his list.)
I listened for a while to their conversation – okay, I eavesdropped – and then I introduced myself just before the elevator car doors opened. “Hi, I’m the pastor of the First Presbyterian Church here in Fort Lauderdale.”
Their reactions were priceless. But I kept thinking about the prayer and am still thinking about it more than 24 hours later.
Prayer language is an interesting subject. How do you address the Creator of the heavens and the earth, Maker of all things, seen and unseen? Is “Daddy” okay? Is “Lord” or “Lord God” better? How do you decide? Maybe some language is better for personal prayer and other language for public prayer, but how does one decide?
I’m interested in prayer language mainly because I think it reveals a great deal about the person who’s praying and the nature of the relationship that person has with the Almighty, if any. I remember a person from a church I served previously who used to address God as though he was sitting at a boardroom table with him. I loved those prayers. God always seemed so sensible and matter-of-fact. God made decisions on the basis of good data.
I’ve listened to other people pray who become uncomfortably (to me) child-like when they pray. Their voices take on a little girl or little boy sound. I wonder what that sound says about their relationship with God. I’m a child of God, true, but I would like to think that God prefers me to be a grown up in my relationship with him.
When my grandmother prayed many years ago, I enjoyed listening to her King James English. She was Dutch and spoke Dutch, but she peppered her English prayers with a lot of thee, thou, and thine. When she prayed, we were always approaching “Thy throne of grace.” I liked that. For her God was on a throne that had to be reverently approached, but it was always, thankfully, a throne of grace.
Since moving to south Florida I have adjusted some of my own prayer language to fit a new culture. I hear lots of “Father Gods” around here, a phrase that suggests some intimacy but also some majesty and holiness. In other settings where I’ve served, though, that phrase would have sounded a tad too masculine. I haven’t adopted that combination, but I’ve tried others. I won’t be trying “daddy.”
Here’s what I think: Our word choices in prayer should be thoughtful. We should use words because we’ve thought about what they mean and because they’re appropriate for our relationship with God. I believe that God values sincerity and honesty and genuineness in our prayers, but I’m also convinced that God values a well-chosen word.
If God is going to take the time to listen, we should choose our words with care.