Before Anything Else: How Jesus Prioritized Prayer

I want to ask you something honest: when you think about prayer, what comes to mind first? For most of us, if we're being truthful, prayer feels like a duty. It's something we know we should do, something we put on our spiritual to-do list, something we check off to gauge whether we're doing okay with God. If I prayed today, I must be alright. If I didn't, something's off.

But here's the problem: the moment prayer becomes a box to check, it stops being about a relationship and starts being about performance. And that is not how Jesus lived.

For Jesus, prayer wasn't a box to check. It was a life to share.

Enrolling in the School of Prayer

As we kicked off our fall series, Pray Like Jesus, I found myself returning to a Christian classic by Andrew Murray, the South African minister and missionary from the 1800s. His book With Christ in the School of Prayer captures something we desperately need to recover. Murray writes:

Though in its beginnings, prayer is so simple that the feeblest child can pray, it is at the same time the highest and holiest work to which man can rise.

That's the heartbeat of this series. For the next several weeks, we're enrolling in the classroom of prayer with Jesus himself as our instructor. And if anyone can teach us what prayer is meant to be, it's the Son of God.

We know Jesus came to accomplish our salvation. He left heaven, wrapped himself in flesh, lived a perfect life, died as our substitute, and rose again—securing everything we need for eternity. But he also came to live as an example. The Gospels don't just show us what Jesus did for us; they show us how Jesus lived so that we could follow in his steps.

When it comes to prayer, Jesus is shown praying around 25 times in the Gospels. He prays in good times and bad. He prays prayers of intercession, praise, blessing, and provision. But here's what struck me as I studied: of those 25 times, only eight or nine do we actually have the words he prayed. Most of what we know about Jesus's prayer life isn't what he prayed—it's that he prayed. Prayer wasn't an add-on to his life. It was the source from which everything else flowed.

Before Ministry, Jesus Prayed

The first time we see Jesus praying is in Luke's Gospel, and it's significant that Luke records it. Of the 84 times the verb "to pray" appears in the New Testament, Luke accounts for 34 of them between his Gospel and Acts. He had a unique fascination with Jesus's prayer life.

In Luke 3:21-22, we read:

Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heavens were opened, and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form, like a dove, and a voice came from heaven, "You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased."— Luke 3:21-22

I've read about Jesus's baptism countless times, and I always assumed the Holy Spirit descended and the Father spoke because Jesus was baptized. But Luke is very specific. Jesus had been baptized—that's a completed action. The ongoing action is that he was praying. Luke wants us to notice something we often miss. When the Father spoke and the Spirit descended, Jesus was praying. Luke intentionally draws our attention to the fact that one of the defining moments of Jesus’ ministry happened in the context of communion with His Father.

Before Jesus preached a single sermon, healed a single person, or called a single disciple, he prayed. Prayer wasn't the discipline behind his ministry. It was the source from which all ministry flowed. And if we're going to serve like Jesus, we need to pray like Jesus—before our acts of service, not as an afterthought.

Before Decisions, Jesus Prayed

Then there's Luke 6:12-13:

In these days he went out to the mountain to pray, and all night he continued in prayer to God. And when day came, he called his disciples and chose from them twelve, whom he named apostles.— Luke 6:12-13

Choosing the twelve disciples was one of the most consequential decisions Jesus ever made. These would be the men who would carry his message to the world. And Scripture underscores how important this was: he spent all night in prayer.

Before we proceed in a relationship, before we take that new job, before we determine how to handle that difficult conversation at work—do we pray? Do we seek God's perspective and wisdom? Or do we just jump the gun and do what seems right to us? The Jesus way is to pray before we decide, big or small.

Before the Day, Jesus Prayed

Mark 1:35 gives us another window into Jesus's rhythm:

And rising very early in the morning, while it was still dark, he departed and went out to a desolate place, and there he prayed.— Mark 1:35

He went out. He got alone. This wasn't a one-time event. Luke 5:16 says, "But he would withdraw to desolate places and pray." The grammar in the original language signals an ongoing, habitual, repeated action. This is who Jesus was, not just what he did.

We understand this with other habits. If someone fishes occasionally, they like fishing. If they invest money in it and do it constantly, we say they're a fisherman. If someone runs three days a week whether they feel like it or not, they're a runner. The habit becomes identity. Jesus withdrew to pray so habitually that he wasn't just someone who prayed—he was a pray-er. It marked his life.

Hebrews 5:7 describes it powerfully:

In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence.— Hebrews 5:7

Can you imagine hearing Jesus pray? He wasn't checking off a box. You don't pray with loud cries and tears as a duty. He was sharing life with his Father—authentic, real, genuine.

The Enemies of Intimacy

If this fall is going to be a season of genuine spiritual growth, I need to warn you: we have an enemy who will do everything possible to stop it. Satan knows that when we get alone with the Father, our peace grows, our joy deepens, and our strength increases. He cannot afford for us to develop this rhythm. And he typically attacks through three enemies of intimacy.

Busyness. If Satan can't make you bad, he'll make you busy. We can be busy with good things—church activities, ministry, work, family—and still not be sharing life with the Father. Every season of life feels like it will be the one that finally gives us more time. When the kids can dress themselves, when we finish school, when the project wraps up. But something always fills the space. Busyness is an enemy of intimacy because it keeps us overextended, rushing from one thing to the next, too scattered to be present with God.

Complacency. We're passionate about hobbies and interests, and there's nothing wrong with that. But it's telling how much energy we pour into fantasy football leagues, games, sports, entertainment—while our spiritual appetite grows apathetic. A.W. Tozer said complacency is the deadly foe of all spiritual growth. You want to ensure you don't grow in intimacy with the Lord? Just do nothing. Stay comfortable. Stay distracted. Complacency will do the rest.

Self-sufficiency. This one is subtle because it often disguises itself as responsibility. We think, "I can handle this. It's not that big a deal. I won't bother God with it." But that's just pride wearing a humble mask. When Jesus fed the five thousand, the crowds wanted to make him king by force. You know what he did? He broke away, sent the crowd away, sent the disciples away, and went up on a mountain to pray. The temptation to handle life on our own is constant, and it always pulls us away from the very source of power we need.

Two Steps Forward

So how do we fight back? How do we make prayer the life-sharing relationship Jesus modeled? I want to leave you with two practical steps.

First, get a routine. Routine and rhythm are your friends spiritually. When my oldest daughter was two, my wife Debbie and I had her on a strict routine—bedtime, meals, everything scheduled. By child number three or four, they could eat off the floor for all we cared. But that first child? We had a plan. And I remember one night traveling, past her bedtime, starving, thinking surely she'd be fine with her blanket and stuffed animals and seventeen pacifiers. Five minutes into the restaurant, my sweet two-year-old turned into a monster. Screaming, inconsolable, every eye in the place on us. The manager came over to offer help. I took her to the restroom and tried to reason with a toddler who was out of her routine. Logic wasn't happening.

If routine matters that much for a toddler, it matters for us spiritually. Find a fixed spot to meet with God. Andrew Murray put it beautifully: "Jesus wants each one to choose for himself a fixed spot where he can meet him daily. That inner chamber, that solitary place is Jesus's schoolroom." Get a Bible reading plan. Get a notebook. Write down verses that jump off the page. Record your prayers. Don't complicate it—just show up. Prayer is called a discipline for a reason, but when the discipline becomes a routine, the routine becomes a delight.

Second, get alone. Limit distractions. Silence the noise. The average American checks their phone within ten minutes of waking—not for the alarm, but for news, social media, texts, email. Before we've even started the day, our minds are clouded with other voices. How can we hear from God when we're already listening to everyone else?

Prayer is a two-way street. Yes, we share our lives with the Father. But he also wants to share his life with us—his Word, his Spirit, his strength. John 15 calls us to abide, to remain in him. That's incredibly hard when we're not alone, when we're constantly distracted.

I was running this week—Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, whether I feel like it or not—and I was thinking about why this matters so much. The Father cares for us. He loves us. What we're going through, big or small, matters to him. We need his strength and power for the day. And here's something else: the people you live with, work with, go to school with—they need you spending time with God. On my best day, I can't produce anything of eternal value in your life. What you need from me on a Sunday morning is not me, but God in me. And what your spouse needs, what your children need, what your coworkers need—is God in you. That only comes from sharing life with the Father.

If this fall is going to be the greatest season of spiritual growth you've ever experienced, it starts here. Get a routine. Get alone. Prioritize what Jesus prioritized. Because for him, prayer was never a box to check. It was a life to share. And it can be that for us too.