Then Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. He said, “In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my accuser.’ For a while he refused, but later he said to himself, ‘Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.’ ” And the Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says.   And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them?  I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”  Luke 18:1-8

Two characters step out of scripture this week to teach us about persistence in prayer. Jacob is the devious brother who tricked his twin, Esau, out of his birthright.  The other character, unnamed, is a widow acquainted with grief, one among many marginalized and vulnerable people, but a woman who dares to stand her ground in her quest for justice. On the banks of the river Jabbok, Jacob wrestles with the angel and limps away with a blessing and a new identity. The unnamed widow repeatedly appeals for justice and finally is vindicated. Many have known persistent prayer as a kind of wrestling with God. Many have pleaded with God for justice and mercy.

Roman Catholic theologian Karl Rahner’s The Need and the Blessing of Prayer, has been very helpful to me in my own prayer life. He begins by asserting that prayer is not an optional religious activity but a fundamental expression of what it means to be human. Every person, consciously or not, lives before the mystery of existence and asks ultimate questions—about meaning, purpose, and God.  To pray is to become aware of this relationship to the infinite, to speak and listen within it.

Furthermore, we need prayer because prayer is how we open ourselves to God’s presence.  It keeps us from becoming enclosed in our own ego, noise, and busyness while reconnecting us to our true selves and our dependence on grace.  Without prayer, Rahner says, we risk losing touch with our deepest truth—that we are creatures loved and addressed by God.

Prayer is also a gift—something we receive more than achieve.  Even when prayer feels empty, distracted, or dry, the very desire to pray is already a sign that God’s grace is at work within us.  The blessing of prayer is that in turning toward God, even imperfectly, we are already in communion with God.   Thus, prayer does not make God present; it makes us present to God.

Perhaps most meaningful to me is how Rahner describes prayer as Everyday Life.  Prayer is not confined to particular times or places.  All of life—work, relationships, suffering, joy—can become prayer when lived in awareness of God’s presence.  Formal prayer is important, too.  Liturgical and recitative prayer is the training ground that helps us live this continual openness in daily existence.

Ultimately, Rahner portrays prayer as both a necessity and a grace:

• A necessity, because it expresses our deepest truth as beings oriented toward God.
• A grace, because every genuine movement toward God begins with God’s initiative.

To pray is to enter the mystery of being known and loved by God, and in that encounter, to discover who we truly are.