Discussion Questions

David Bercot says many Christians have been taught it is “unspiritual to pray the Lord’s Prayer,” yet Jesus explicitly said, “When you pray, say….” What assumptions about spirituality or authenticity does that modern hesitation reveal, and what does Jesus’ instruction suggest God actually wants from our prayer life? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Why do some Christians think it’s “unspiritual” to pray the Lord’s Prayer when Jesus said, “When you pray, say…”? What does that show about what we think “real” prayer is, and what does Jesus seem to want from our prayers?

The chapter claims there is “probably no other prayer we can pray” where we know “every word…is inspired by the Holy Spirit.” How does that statement shape what you think God is like (and how He relates to Scripture-shaped prayer), and what pushback rises up in you when prayer feels like it should be more spontaneous? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If the Lord’s Prayer is the one prayer where every word is Spirit-inspired, what does that tell you about what God is like and what He wants from prayer? What bothers you about using set words instead of being totally spontaneous?

Bercot warns, “Don’t just recite it by rote memory without your heart entering into the prayer…Make every word of it your own,” then recommends praying it once as written and once paraphrased and personalized. What parts of the Lord’s Prayer become hardest to say slowly and honestly when you personalize them, and what does that expose about your real priorities? JumpstartAnother way to ask: When you pray the Lord’s Prayer slowly and in your own words, which lines are hardest to say honestly? What does that reveal about what you care about most?

In his paraphrase, Bercot adds lines like, “Help me…so that my life will hallow and glorify Your name,” and “use me in any way You desire to serve Your kingdom.” What would change in your schedule, ambitions, and sense of control if you prayed those specific requests daily and meant them? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If you prayed every day, “Help my life honor Your name” and “Use me however You want,” what would likely change in how you spend your time and chase your goals? How would it affect your need to stay in control?

The chapter emphasizes “Give us this day our daily bread,” noting Jesus did not authorize praying for “tomorrow’s bread,” and “let alone…riches and vanities,” and that the request is collective (“our”). How does that confront common Christian approaches to planning, saving, career advancement, and “God bless my goals” prayers? JumpstartAnother way to ask: How does praying for “daily bread” (not extra or future bread) challenge how Christians plan ahead, save money, build careers, or ask God to bless their own goals? What does it mean that the prayer says “our,” not “my”?

Bercot lists “Thanksgiving should be at the top of our prayer lists” and says as we grow in contentment the thanksgiving list “keeps growing.” What does your current prayer pattern (and emotional tone) reveal about whether you are becoming more content or more entitled, and how would you actually retrain your prayers toward gratitude? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Do your prayers sound more like gratitude or more like complaints and demands, and what does that say about your contentment? What practical changes could help you train your prayers to be more thankful?

The chapter urges serious intercession—Paul’s “night and day,” “do not cease,” and the concrete challenge: “Start praying daily for each family in your congregation.” What would be the cost (time, attention, self-focus) of that kind of intercession, and what do you think it would expose about how we view church community? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What would it cost you to pray every day for each family in your church (time, focus, less attention on yourself)? What might that show about how you really see your church community?

Quoting William Law, Bercot says praying for someone “will have a mighty effect upon your own heart,” even producing love and fitting you “for…everything that is kind and civil.” Who is the person (or type of person) you least want to pray for, and what might God be trying to change in you by commanding intercession anyway? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Who do you least want to pray for, and why? If God still tells you to pray for them, what might He be trying to change in your heart?

On confession, the chapter argues we should “never conclude our devotional hour without confessing,” and it directly challenges the idea that “all…future sins were pre-forgiven,” saying Scripture “expressly” tells otherwise and that forgiveness/cleansing is “conditioned” on confession and forsaking. Where does this collide with common evangelical assurances, and how do you reconcile God’s mercy with these stated conditions without trying to soften either one? JumpstartAnother way to ask: How does the idea that forgiveness and cleansing are tied to confession clash with the common belief that all future sins are already forgiven? How can you hold together God’s mercy and these conditions without watering either one down?

Jesus’ warning is applied bluntly: if we don’t forgive others, “neither will your Father forgive your trespasses,” and Bercot adds, “keep accounts of no injuries.” What specific “accounts” are you keeping right now (old wounds, ongoing resentments, justified distance), and what concrete steps would repentance look like if you took Jesus’ condition literally? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What grudges or “scorekeeping” are you holding onto right now (old hurts, ongoing bitterness, or “I’m justified” distance)? If Jesus means it that God won’t forgive you unless you forgive others, what specific steps would real repentance take?