Praying to the Father

Sometimes one of the best ways to learn is by a form of contrast. Jesus contrasts the way his followers are encouraged to pray versus two other groups of people: 1) religious hypocrites & 2) pagan gentiles. Let’s unpack more about what you just read!

Imagine the religious hypocrites as stage performers, costumes on, spotlights blazing. Their prayers are recitations before a crowd, their eyes searching the faces of men, not the heart of God. They live for applause, and when the curtain falls, that is all they get. That's their reward—fleeting, hollow praise.

But Jesus paints a different picture in Matthew 6:6. It’s the follower of Christ who steps off the stage and into “the secret place.” No audience. No masks. Just you and your Father, face to face. God is captivated by our sincerity, not our stage presence. In this quiet space, unseen by the world, you can speak honestly and listen intently—because here, God sees and hears you as you truly are. That’s where the real reward is found: the assurance of God's presence. This is the life-changing invitation—to leave the performance behind and discover what it means to trust God in the hidden place, away from the world’s eye, knowing He delights to meet you in the secret place; and knowing He is worth our time there!

→ Caveat: this passage does not combat corporate prayer gatherings, rather Jesus is targeting the heart of the person praying. Do we pray to be seen by others? Or do we pray to be “face to face” with the Father? Praying in public should be an extension and continuation of our private prayers, not a replacement of seeking God in secret.

Now, picture the pagan gentiles: their prayers swell like anxious monologues, tossed into the sky to distant deities–too many to count and too temperamental to count on! (The “gods” are not the all-knowing, all-powerful, ever-present God that we believe in!) If you were a Roman pagan, your prayer might reach the ears of a god on a bad day, where you can quickly become an object of wrath simply for bothering them at the wrong time. In the theology of the Roman pantheon, the “gods” are remote, distracted, and detached–only interested in you and your needs when it could benefit them in a self-serving way as well. Therefore, the “gods” always needed convincing, their attention bought by endless words and promises. It was bartering at the cosmic level!

The gentile prays to “gods” who probably don’t even know their name and certainly don’t care about the details of their lives. But out of desperation, the pagans believed their prayers would maybe reach the ears of their local deities, then, maybe work out a deal of reciprocal value. At best this, the pagan prayed like a child trying to get the attention of a parent who had too many children to tend to at once. At worst, the pagan prayed to a god who thought of them like a piece of dirt whose greatest purpose was to serve the impulsive desires of a selfish god with their own problems to navigate. There was no love in this exchange, only a transaction of favors.

But Jesus shines a brilliant light on the difference for those who know God as their Father. Our God doesn’t need elaborate speeches or frantic bartering. He’s not distant or preoccupied—He’s listening before we ever utter a word! You don’t have to prove yourself, plead your case, or earn His attention. God knows you with an intimacy and love deeper than words. He anticipates your needs, waits for you to ask, and is ready to meet you where you are! We don’t need to search for the right words to say, as if God is more likely to respond to our articulate phrases when what He really wants is our authentic hearts.

How tragically easy it is—even for us—to slip into orphan-hearted prayers. We find ourselves begging, as if we need to win God’s pity. But Jesus calls us back to the breathtaking reality: you pray as a beloved child to a Father more present than the breath in your lungs. No performance, no persuasion—just trust, just relationship. That’s the invitation. Leave behind frantic striving. Rest in the assurance that your Father already knows, already cares, already loves.

The “gods” of the gentiles are finite, distant, and unfamiliar. God the Father is infinite, near, and familiar. Read that contrast again if you need to!

Pause for a moment and let the weight of this sink in: We call God “Father.” Not because He earned the title or took it on at some point in history, the way a man becomes a father through birth or adoption. No—this is who He is at the core of His being. He is, and always has been, Father. It’s more than a name; it’s His nature, His very identity.

When Jesus teaches us to say “our Father,” He’s inviting us to approach God as He truly is and as He longs to be known. This isn’t a formality, it’s an open door into the deepest relationship possible. The God who spoke galaxies into being, who holds every heartbeat, wants to relate to you as a perfect, eternal Father—one who provides, protects, knows, and delights in His children.

How astounding is that? We don’t have to guess at who God is or wonder what kind of relationship He offers. He calls us into the security, affection, and nearness that only a true Father can give. This is the privilege and wonder of prayer—to come home to the heart of the Father, just as He always intended.

The Father can give his undivided attention to anyone and everyone at once! He is near in that he draws close to those who seek him. And he is familiar in the sense that we can actually grow in our relationship to him. He already knows us (and knows what we need, as verse 7 reminds us). And yet, He asks us to get to know him. What a wonderful invitation!

Consider this breathtaking truth: Even though God already knows our needs before a word leaves our lips, He invites us to pray. Why? Because prayer is the moment we see Him—as our Provider and Sustainer—in real time. If we never dared to name our needs before Him, how would we ever recognize His hand when those needs are met? Every prayer is a chance to catch a glimpse of the Father’s heart toward us.