COMING TO FAITH in the blended world of evangelical and charismatic belief, with little experience or understanding of the rich heritage of long-established churches, I used to have a bit of a sniffy, superior view of prayer.

Those folks reciting formal prayers weren’t quite as spiritual, I suspected. Freewheeling, extemporaneous prayers were where it was at—a sign of real spiritual depth and maturity. “I talk to God like He’s my friend.” Well, yes, but He’s also much more than that. Like, sovereign Creator of the Universe.

Sitting through my share of open prayer meetings is what gave me pause. Now, I know it’s not for us to judge someone else’s relationship with God by how they interact with Him, but . . . has anyone else been there when someone’s been droning on and on endlessly (peppering their words with “Lord” every  few words, as if they’re worried He might have forgotten they’re talking to Him) and you wish that they would shut up? Or you’ve thought, “That’s nuts!”

Over time, including years in a liturgical church, I have come to appreciate how sometimes other people can help me express what I mean much better than I can.

It’s interesting to note that we don’t apply the same “open” standard to our praise that we do our prayers. And that’s notwithstanding Psalm 96:1’s admonition (echoed elsewhere) to “sing a new song to the Lord,” or Paul’s instruction in 1 Corinthians 14:26: “When you come together, each of you has a hymn, or a word of instruction, a revelation, a tongue or an interpretation.”

Imagine if we all turned up at church next week and started singing our own songs at the same time. Now, this can be a momentary practice or passage of time in some charismatic services, when people feel the Holy Spirit moving, but it’s not a standard way of going about things—and with good reason.

No, when we come together to worship God, we happily and enthusiastically use other people’s words to express what’s in our hearts. In fact, when King Hezekiah called the people of Judah to worship as he purged his kingdom of idolatrous practices, he “commanded the Levites to sing praises to the Lord with the words of David and of Asaph the seer” (2 Chronicles 29:30, emphasis added).

Surely, we can apply the same “borrower” approach to prayer. I’ve found great comfort and hope in repeating others’ prayers. First, from those in the Bible itself (check out James Banks’s book Praying the Prayers of the Bible). Then from ministries like Ransomed Heart (with a collection of daily prayers). There’s a wonderful series of liturgies for everyday events—from preparing to do the laundry to grieving a broken relationship—from the folks at Every Moment Holy. And worship leader David Ruis’s rendition of The Prayer of St. Patrick’s Breastplate is always encouraging.

It’s not repetition that makes something just a ritual, it’s mindless—or, better yet, heartless—repetition. Sometimes, the best thing we can tell God is, “What they said.”