Five ways we misuse prayer in church settings …

There is a moment in many church gatherings that feels eerily mechanical. Heads bow, eyes close, a voice begins — sometimes warm, sometimes routine — and we pray. But somewhere in the familiarity, something is off. What we call “prayer” in the church has often become something entirely other than prayer. We’ve wrapped it in ritual, assigned it practical roles, and forgotten that we are supposed to be speaking to the living God.

It is a dangerous thing when something sacred becomes something “useful.”

We use prayer as a church umbrella
In many elder meetings, Bible studies, staff gatherings, and worship services, prayer is used to “start us off,” like pulling out an umbrella when the weather is uncertain. It’s what we do — not always because we are compelled by reverence or dependence, but because it’s the first line in the unwritten manual of how Christians begin things.

But prayer is not a ritual cue. It is not a formality. And while it is absolutely right to begin with prayer, it must be for the right reasons. We begin in prayer not just because we need God’s help — though we do — but because we have gathered for Him. We begin with prayer because He is the center of our worship, the One we’ve come to glorify, to learn from His Word, to commune with, to obey.

When Jesus taught His disciples to pray, He didn’t begin with mechanics, He began with orientation: “Pray like this: Our Father in heaven, may your name be kept holy. May your Kingdom come soon. May your will be done on earth, as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:9–10). That is not a ritual preface, it is a declaration of God’s holiness, the coming of His Kingdom, and our surrender to His will.

The early church didn’t pray before decisions because that’s how meetings start; they prayed because their hearts were turned toward God and they didn’t trust their own minds without Him. James wrote, “If you need wisdom, ask our generous God, and he will give it to you. He will not rebuke you for asking” (James 1:5).

We don’t pray because we’re already rightly postured, we begin by humbling ourselves before God, so that our hearts come into alignment with Him. True prayer lifts our attention from ourselves and recenters it on Him. It reminds us why we’re gathered at all. When we reduce it to a routine, we dishonor the One we’re speaking to. But when we pray because He is worthy, and because we long to see rightly, speak rightly, and act rightly, we’re doing exactly what the church was meant to do.

We use prayer as a transition tool
In many worship services, prayer is used to smooth the order of events. A song ends, a prayer begins – not because someone needs to talk to God, but because we need the musicians to exit the stage, the lights to shift, or the elements to be arranged. And so we talk to God, while actually thinking about what’s next.

This is not reverence. It’s choreography.

Nowhere in scripture do we find the people of God praying to manage logistics. The first-century believers didn’t pray to close a segment or introduce a speaker. They prayed because they had come into the presence of God and could not do otherwise.

In Acts 4, after Peter and John were threatened and released, we read in verse 24a, “When they heard the report, all the believers lifted their voices together in prayer to God: ‘O Sovereign Lord, Creator of heaven and earth, the sea, and everything in them …'” Later in that same prayer, they pleaded, “And now, O Lord, hear their threats, and give us, your servants, great boldness in preaching your word,” Acts 4:29.

They were not transitioning. They were responding to a real need with real prayer.

There is something terribly irreverent about speaking to God for the sake of appearances, even with good intentions. Jesus warned us clearly:“When you pray, don’t be like the hypocrites who love to pray publicly on street corners and in the synagogues where everyone can see them. I tell you the truth, that is all the reward they will ever get,” Matthew 6:5.

We use prayer as rote ritual
Written prayers can be helpful. Many are biblically rich and historically profound. But when they are recited without thought, feeling, or personal engagement, they become something else: performance without presence.

There is a reason Jesus said, “When you pray, don’t babble on and on as the Gentiles do. They think their prayers are answered merely by repeating their words again and again,” Matthew 6:7.

God is not interested in scripted distance. He wants what a father wants from his children — real conversation, real nearness. David didn’t write psalms for liturgical convenience. He wrote them out of anguish, awe, worship, and trust.

The words of Psalm 62 could never be mumbled meaninglessly by someone who knew what they meant: “O my people, trust in him at all times. Pour out your heart to him, for God is our refuge” (Psalm 62:8).

We are not told to echo what someone else wrote, unless it expresses what we also feel and believe. We are told to pour out our hearts. That cannot be copied.

We use prayer as manipulation
There is a misuse that lurks quietly under the surface in some churches. Prayer becomes a way to express opinions, steer decisions, or speak to people under the guise of speaking to God. It shows up in meetings, from the pulpit, or in public gatherings: “Lord, help our leaders to stop making foolish choices …” or “God, we know you’re not pleased when people don’t support this ministry …”

This is not intercession. It is manipulation in sacred language.

When the Pharisee in Luke 18:11 stood in the temple and “… prayed this prayer: ‘I thank you, God, that I am not like other people—cheaters, sinners, adulterers. I’m certainly not like that tax collector!'” he wasn’t really talking to God. He was using God’s name as a vehicle for spiritual arrogance.

It still happens. And it still stinks of pride.

We use prayer without faith
Perhaps the most subtle and tragic misuse of prayer is when we pray while no longer believing that anything will happen. We pray because we should. We speak the words. But we do not expect God to act.

This is what James warned against: “But when you ask him, be sure that your faith is in God alone. Do not waver, for a person with divided loyalty is as unsettled as a wave of the sea that is blown and tossed by the wind” (James 1:6).

To pray without faith is not neutral. It is insulting. It treats God as though He is deaf or indifferent. But He is not.

Jesus said, as recorded in Matthew 21:22, “You can pray for anything, and if you have faith, you will receive it.” Not because prayer is a trick, but because we pray to a God who listens, who responds, who acts.

When the early church prayed, God often responded with power: “After this prayer, the meeting place shook, and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit. Then they preached the word of God with boldness” (Acts 4:31).

Prayer is not background noise to spiritual routine. It is the act of approaching the throne of grace because we know that God is present, listening, and ready to work in ways we cannot.

We were never called to treat prayer as an accessory, a segue, a formality, or a performance. We were invited into something far greater — to speak to the God of heaven, who hears us, loves us, and responds.

God is not flattered by prayers we don’t mean. He is not impressed by choreography, length, eloquence, or tone. He desires something far simpler — that we speak to Him because He is our Father and we are His children. That we come honestly, without pretense or performance, not out of habit or obligation, but because we trust Him and want to be near Him.

Scotty