Ministry, like other ventures of life, is subject to fashion and trends. When I was early in my career it was popular, among younger mainline clergy, to respond to an invitation to offer a blessing by reminding those who asked that any person of faith should be able to pray in public. My colleagues would decline the invitation, pushing for lay people to lead prayer. Something about that response did not sit well with me and it seemed particularly inappropriate in the rural North Dakota congregations I was serving. I decided that when asked to pray my response would be a simple, “yes.” I kept that answer for all of my career.

I have prayed in public a lot. I have prayed for blessing at service club meetings, city council meetings, state legislature meetings, banquets, fund-raising dinners, anniversary parties, wedding receptions, and a host of other occasions.

I have made it my practice to be very careful in crafting prayers. When given advance notice that I would be offering a public prayer, I have taken time to write out a special prayer for the occasion. Frequently people have expressed appreciation for my prayers. I have made it my practice to write out a unique and careful prayer for each class that I teach. Praying with and for students has helped my build a lasting relationship with them as we learn together.

All the same, I have been slightly uneasy with public prayer. As practiced and as careful as I have been with words, I am aware the there is a theological challenge to public prayer. Jesus warned about public prayer: “And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret . . .”

Of course I do pray in secret. I do pray in my home with the door closed. But I also pray in public places. I do pray in places where I am seen by others. It seems that a life of faith is almost always filled with theological inconsistencies. I don’t pretend to be perfect. I don’t have everything right, but I have tried to be aware of my own inconsistencies. A certain nervousness about public prayer seems appropriate.

I try to listen carefully and join in fully when others lead prayer. Now that I am retired and not leading public worship as much, I have more opportunities to listen to the prayers that others offer. It has never been difficult to find those who pray boldly in public. I have often heard prayers offered by others. I’ve seen, on television, coaches praying with their teams before games. Two opposing teams, both presumably praying for victory. When I have been asked to pray with or bless a sports team, I have been careful not to pray for victory. I have prayed for safety for all who play the game. I have prayed for compassion for others. I have prayed for fair play. But I do not pray for victory.

Over the years I have heard a lot of things said in the course of leading public prayer, that seem to me to be in direct contrast with Jesus’ advice to his disciples concerning prayer. When I hear such things, I try to be careful in choosing my words for public prayer.

I’ve heard plenty of prayers that focus on male addresses for God. Jesus addressed God as “Abba,” which can be translated father, though the term father in our language is a bit more formal than the familiar form. However, I know that there are those who do not picture God as an old man. Victims of abuse by earthly fathers find the term to be a barrier to genuine prayer. I try to be inclusive in the language I choose for prayer.

I have colleagues who get a bit evangelical about their Christianity when asked to pray before an audience that includes those who are not Christian. I prefer to be more inclusive. I reserve the intense Jesus talk for gatherings of Christian community. In wider and more secular contexts, when I know it is possible that Muslims and Buddhists and Jews and Hindu and Sikh and agnostics and atheists are present, I try to choose generic terms to address the Creator, seeking words that might be meaningful to all listeners. While I might pray, “In the name of Jesus” at a church function, in public I might say, “In your holy name,” for example.

I have heard those offering public prayer go into an extended list of requests for God. I prefer to believe that God knows what we want. Jesus advised to pray only for daily bread - enough for this day. I try to avoid offering lists of requests in public prayer. I don’t think prayer is primarily about asking God to give us what we want. I don’t think prayer is the right time to focus our attention on our own desires. This is especially difficult when I pray with those who are longing for health for a loved one. It isn’t that I don’t share their desire for recovery and restoration. It isn’t that I don’t think that miracles of healing occur. It is just that I don’t presume to be in a position to tell God what to do and I think that sounding like I am doing that is not particularly helpful for others.

In addition to private prayers, offered in quiet and secluded places, public prayer can be about forming community - about recognizing the things we hold in common and lifting them up. Prayer can be about expressing love. And love isn’t about glorifying self, or seeking the things that I want. Love is about putting the other first.

One of my prayers that I don’t often say in public is to ask God to help me to stop asking for ends that please me, but to instead focus my attention on the needs of others, including those who are often overlooked and pushed to the margins of community. I ask God to remind me of those who are homeless, of the victims of injustice and violence. I ask God to help me to pray for others.