Praying is one of the most important things that we people of faith do. We read how the matriarchs and patriarchs were in regular conversation with God. Abraham’s prayer forestalled God’s judgment against Sodom — for a time. Jacob pretty literally wrestled with God. Moses and God spoke daily — and even argued like a married couple — during the sojourn in the wilderness. Hannah’s prayer resulted in her dedicating her son, Samuel, to a life of service and ministry. St. Paul calls us to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17). Jesus himself prayed throughout his entire earthly ministry.
We worry that we don’t know enough, or that our prayers are somehow inadequate or ineffective. These reflections are meant to ease those concerns and to invite us more deeply into the life of prayer.
The most familiar forms of prayer are those in which we pray for ourselves or for the needs or concerns of someone else in our lives — or for people we don’t even know, somewhere in the world. When we bring our own needs before God, the Church calls that supplication. When we pray for others, that’s intercession. These aren’t the technical terms that they seem to be; instead, they are ways of describing parts of our conversations with God. We ask. We hope. We grieve. We give thanks. And through it all, we turn toward God, trusting that we are heard.
To be very clear, we recognize that in prayer, we aren’t informing God of anything new. God already knows our needs, fears, and desires — truly knows them more deeply than we do ourselves. Prayer, then, isn’t about changing God’s awareness. It also isn’t about directing how God acts in the world or in our lives. Instead, it’s about shaping our own hearts and lives. Through supplication and intercession, we align ourselves with God’s compassion, justice, and healing work in the world. Nothing changes about God; instead, we learn to see as God sees, to love as God loves, and to entrust both ourselves and others to God’s care. Prayer moves, shapes, and changes us so that we can be in tune with God’s activity in our world.
We also know that prayer isn’t a solo activity. We don’t just pray alone, quietly, in the privacy of our own homes. We pray together in worship. We invite others to pray for us. There is something profoundly meaningful about having another person pray with and for us. That allows us to remember that our life in God and in the Church isn’t an individual endeavor: We are in community, both with others in the Church and with God.
With this shared life of prayer, the Church has also received the practice of anointing. The use of oil is both ancient and deeply symbolic. Throughout Scripture, oil is associated with healing, blessing, consecration, and a sign of the presence and work of God’s Spirit. Kings and prophets were anointed to their work and ministry. The sick were anointed to provide a measure of comfort (oil can actually be quite soothing) and to remind them of God’s healing and strengthening power. Ordinary moments became holy through simple, physical signs.
St. James very clearly encourages us to pray for and with each other — and to anoint the sick with oil in the name of the Lord (James 5:13-16). This isn’t some sort of spiritual transaction or a guarantee of a particular outcome. Instead, it’s a sign — a visible and tangible reminder — that God’s grace is present and active in the life of the person being anointed and the life of the one anointing. When we anoint one another, we mark the truth that each of us is held in God’s care, that we are not alone, and that God’s Spirit is already at work in our lives and world.
This is deeply human and real. We aren’t merely minds or spirits; we are flesh-and-bone bodies inhabiting this very real world. Sometimes a simple touch or gesture from someone else is exactly what we need to remind us of what is true. The small cross traced with oil during anointing (sometimes known as unction) becomes a kind of prayer in and of itself: a quiet proclamation of healing, belonging, and hope.
It is also important to remember that prayer is not a transaction but a relationship. We are not trying to persuade God, bargain with God, or earn God’s attention. We aren’t trying to wear God down, thereby forced to give into our demands. We are responding to a God who is already present, already loving, already at work. Whether we come with words or without them, whether we carry great burdens or quiet thanksgivings, we are invited into deeper communion with the One in whom we live and move and have our being.
Intercession and supplication, then, are not merely things we do from time to time. They are ways of living — ways of becoming more attentive to God’s presence in our own lives and more responsive to the needs of the world around us. In prayer, we learn not only to speak, but also to listen, to trust, and, over time, to be changed.