The Privacy of Prayer 1

And when you pray, you shall not be like the hypocrites. For they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, so that they may be seen by men. Truly I say to you, They have their reward. But you, when you pray, enter into your room. And shutting your door, pray to your Father in secret; and your Father who sees in secret shall reward you openly.

Matt 6:5-6

Very early the next morning, long before daylight, Jesus got up and left the house. He went out of town to a lonely place, where he prayed. But Simon and his companions went out searching for him, and when they found him, they said, "Everyone is looking for you."

Mk 1:35-37 (GNB)

 A stone's throw...'

‘We are to be shut out from men, and shut in with God.’

~Andrew Murray

 ‘And He was withdrawn from them about a stone's throw. And He kneeled down and prayed,’ Luke 22:41

 Love affairs are usually secret. At least the greatest of them are.  The bedroom is the place of deepest, freest, fullest emotional expression between a man and his wife. No matter how much affection they show in the open, there is always more in the secret place. This is not because they are ashamed of one another or shy; but because they seek a place where they can be bare and open before each other alone, where they can say their hearts in rhyme, where they can give themselves in the absence of prying eyes. Where they can be naked and unashamed.

Prayer in a sense is an intense intimacy with God. It is being naked and unashamed. It is a deep mystery, a communication sometimes beyond words. A bridge between two worlds. A uncovering of ourselves, our hearts, our hurt, our pain, our evil, our incompleteness, our joys, our laughter, our expectations, our soulish needs, our spiritual state, our dependence, our desires. It is being truly naked and bare in the sight of him before whom all things are naked and bare. Hebrews 4:13

 Jesus left us a pattern of private prayer. In his hardest moments, he did not gather the 12 with him and have ‘company’. He spent his most trying moments alone with Majesty. He showed us the principle of basking privately in the audience of One.

His aim was to pray; to spend time with the Father. He first separated himself from the crowds he taught- from the little children he carried in his arms to bless, from the Pharisees, Sadducees and scribes he so sternly rebuked, from the rich young rulers eager to follow him but unwilling to pay the price, from the short, tax collecting Zaccheauses, hedonistic Herods and rational Greeks eager to see him, from the demanding ministry schedules, from the sick, the blind, the lame, the maimed, the bent over, the dumb, the deaf, the hungry, the multitudes and throngs eager to crown him, eager to curse him, eager to call him, eager to praise him, eager to prosecute him, eager to persecute him.

He had left the crowds, but even that was not enough. His aim was to pray. After leaving the throngs, he left his outer circle of disciples- nine close friends and brothers. Sometimes our deepest prayer is in the context of the church. We pray in services. We intercede at our best at prayer meetings. We scabash in Pentecostal terminology and pray in the spirit when the body of believers is gathered. This is appropriate but not enough. Our personal intimacy with God should move us further in.

Away from the crowds, away from the 70, away from the outer circle of 9 apostles, away

from the inner caucus of Peter, James and John; away into the place of aloneness with

Majesty. We love the comfort men give and the strength we draw from their company, but until we withdraw about a stone’s throw, we may not fully appreciate the comfort and strength drawn from the presence of God.

‘And He was withdrawn from them about a stone's throw. And He kneeled down and prayed,’... And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him.

Luke 22:41, 43

Jesus was not a hermit. He was not agoraphobic. He did not live as a monk. Yet he taught and left us a pattern by example of private intimacy over public show.

‘And in the morning, rising up a great while before day, he went out, and departed into a solitary place, and there prayed.’

Mark 1:35.

Glimpses into his personal life show consistent aloneness, recurrent withdrawals and deliberate separation from crowds, friends and adversaries after victories and before decisions. We catch him on mountains alone, across lakes from crowds alone, in solitary and dangerous places at odd hours paying the price of intimacy.

All great men of God in scripture and history have understood the secret of private intimacy. The public glare has not removed the private commitment to constant communication with heaven. Men who have been much for God have been much with God. Moseses have their Sinais. Daniels have their upper rooms. Elijahs have their Cheriths and Carmels. Pauls have their Arabias.

John Wesley, the figure in the centre of the holiness revival and founder of Methodism, woke up by 4am everyday to spend one hour alone with God in prayer before preaching everyday by 5am. Small wonder that by the end of his life of service, he had preached 40,000 sermons and travelled 250,ooo miles on horseback for the kingdom. The power of God is released by private personal intercession. Smith Wigglesworth, the apostle of faith, was a man of much private prayer. Once a visitor went into the study where he prayed and crawled out after a few minutes on his hands and knees. He couldn’t stand it. Overwhelmed by the presence of God, he said, ‘There’s too much glory in there!’ The glory of God is released by private personal intercession. Pastor Joseph Ayo Babalola, apostle of the indigenous Nigerian Christ Apostolic Church, was known to spend days and weeks in prayer alone on mountains and in deserted places. On one such occasion, a large poisonous snake was said to have died as it attempted to slither over his back while he was praying prostate on a rock surface. The presence of God overwhelmed dangerous elements of nature. The anointing of God is released by private personal intercession.

I learnt the lesson early in my walk with God. No one really taught me, but my heart yearned for private intimacy. As a teenage believer, I would hide in the stairwell of the one-storey high school dormitory to be alone with God. When I shared a room with a friend while holidaying in their home, I would hide under the spring and metal bed frame, literally bathing in the dust to be alone with God. I would sneak out of the hostel to the basketball court before dawn to be alone with God. I would walk round the school in the pitch darkness of a moonless morning to be alone with God. When I got home on holidays, I would hide on the secluded first floor balcony to be alone with God. Even when married, my deepest times of intimacy are when I am alone with God. Aloneness is the first step to intimacy.