In Eastern Orthodoxy, there are many staple prayers that are part of the Church’s prayer life: the daily prayers of the morning, noon, and evening; the Lord’s prayer; the prayers for the departed; pre-communion prayers; the Jesus Prayer, etc. Before converting to Orthodoxy, I was never really all that “good” at praying (by “good,” I mean knowing what to pray). In fact, I can’t really say that I am any better at praying since after my conversion – I just happen to have more resources and am much more open to reciting pre-written prayers. Often, my failure to pray often stems from not knowing what to pray. There is an internal, spiritual struggle that occurs when it comes time to consciously reflect and meditate on my own life: am I being selfish for asking this? Have I taken enough time to reflect on my sins? Am I focusing on the right thing here?

I am no pastor, no priest, no spiritual adviser. I often shy away from speaking about spiritual practices since I have no authority to speak on directing others’ spiritual lives. My consistent readers will note that this is a bit off-topic from my usual discussions of hermeneutics, historical theology, and biblical explorations. I only offer this prayer I learned, though there is a tiny backstory: a little over a year ago, my former housemates gave Aubrey and I a sheet of paper (I believe it accompanied an icon) and one of them said to note the prayer by Saint/Metropolitan Philaret of Moscow. I remember organizing a few things in our bedroom and eventually reading the following prayer on this tiny slip of paper:

“O Lord, I know not what ask of Thee. Thou alone knowest what are my true needs. Thou lovest me more than I myself know how to love. Help me to see my real needs which are concealed from me. I dare not ask either a cross or consolation. I can only wait on Thee. My heart is open to Thee. Visit and help me, for Thy great mercy’s sake. Strike me and heal me, cast me down and raise me up. I worship, in silence, Thy holy will and Thine inscrutable ways. I offer myself as a sacrifice to Thee. I put all my trust in Thee. I have no other desire than to fulfill Thy will. Teach me how to pray.



Pray Thou Thyself in me. Amen.”

The prayer sparked something within me. I was reading my very own doubts, though my doubts were now transposed as a prayer. Rather than my struggles keeping me from fully engaging in prayer, my struggles became my prayer: “Help me to see my real needs which are concealed from me.” This prayer is a proper orientation of the self to the Divine, a pre-requisite for any prayer. In fact, this prayer is a prayer for learning how to pray: “Teach me how to pray.” This quickly became my favorite personal prayer outside of the liturgical community prayers of the Church.

There are still many times I catch myself not knowing what to pray, so I often return to this prayer by Saint Philaret. However, even in times of spiritual confidence – or, perhaps more precise, spiritual arrogance – when I think I know what I should be praying for, I still recite this prayer, reminding myself that I am still learning how to pray.