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The Pattern of Prayer

We are not prohibited from praying to any member of the Trinity, but the most common and prescribed order would be to the Father through the Son in the power of the Holy Spirit. This honors each member in the Godhead in His respective role.

Pray To the Father: “And in that day you will ask Me nothing. Most assuredly, I say to you, whatever you ask the Father in My name He will give you” (John 16:23 NKJV).

Pray Through the Son: “If you ask anything in My name, I will do [it]” (John 14:14 NKJV).

Pray in the Power of the Holy Spirit: “But you, beloved, building yourselves up on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Spirit” (Jude 1:20 NKJV).

As was mentioned, there may be exceptions as in Stephen’s case. “. . . [T]hey stoned Stephen as he was calling on [God] and saying, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit’” (Acts 7:59 NKJV).

While the pattern of prayer is something to consider, we should never forget the purpose of prayer. When we ask the Father in Jesus’ name, He gives to us. God is willing and anxious to answer us because He knows that it builds us up in our faith (Jude, above).

As the millstone of time grinds away the flesh, the spirit learns to soar by spending time in prayer. A blind preacher understood this principle when he authored the following hymn:

Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
That calls me from a world of care,
And bids me at my Father’s throne
Make all my wants and wishes known.
In seasons of distress and grief,
My soul has often found relief
And oft escaped the tempter’s snare
By thy return, sweet hour of prayer!

Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
The joys I feel, the bliss I share,
Of those whose anxious spirits burn
With strong desires for thy return!
With such I hasten to the place
Where God my Savior shows His face,
And gladly take my station there,
And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer!

Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
Thy wings shall my petition bear
To Him whose truth and faithfulness
Engage the waiting soul to bless.
And since He bids me seek His face,
Believe His Word and trust His grace,
I’ll cast on Him my every care,
And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer!

Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
May I thy consolation share,
Till, from Mount Pisgah’s lofty height,
I view my home and take my flight:
This robe of flesh I’ll drop and rise
To seize the everlasting prize;
And shout, while passing through the air,
“Farewell, farewell, sweet hour of prayer!”1

1.Words: William Walford, 1845; appeared in The New York Observer, September 13, 1845