The wonder of prayer

Estimated Reading time: 6 minutes · Written by tim chilvers

In today’s hyperconnected world, where social media dominates our downtime and algorithms decide what we see, we are constantly bombarded with a mixture of nonsense, clickbait, and the occasional adorable animal video. Amidst this chaos, there are a few truly witty and relatable voices that stand out. One of my personal favourites is Very British Problems—a comedy account that masterfully pokes fun at the peculiarities of British life. You know the sort: saying “sorry” when someone else bumps into you, or pretending not to see someone you recognise in a supermarket. It’s a brilliant mirror held up to our charming but baffling national habits.

Yet, despite the uniquely British quirks we celebrate and laugh at, there are certain challenges that cut across culture and geography. One such challenge is prayer.

Regardless of where we are on our journey of faith—whether sceptical, searching, new to Christianity, or seasoned in belief—most of us encounter difficulties when it comes to prayer. Perhaps it’s misunderstanding, disappointment, cynicism, or pride. Whatever it may be, prayer remains an area where almost everyone wrestles at some point.

Let’s explore this sacred practice afresh through the lens of Acts 12, where we discover not just the power of prayer, but also its potential, community, and even the delightful irony of its effectiveness.

The challenge of prayer

Many of us hold warped views of what prayer is or should be. Some imagine God as a celestial slot machine, if we insert the right formula of words, out pops what we desire. Others may have become disillusioned through unanswered prayers or hardened by cynicism, quietly convinced that prayer is little more than a placebo for the devout.

For some, particularly those new to faith, prayer is simply unfamiliar, like learning a new language. Then there are those who, with the best intentions, have slipped into believing they’ve “mastered” prayer. Perhaps they think, I’ve been doing this for years, I should be the one teaching others. Yet, even the disciples, after walking with Jesus for three years, still asked Him, “Lord, teach us to pray.”

So wherever we are on the spiritual spectrum, it’s worth humbly revisiting what prayer really is, and why it still matters.

A dark moment, a bold response

Acts 12 opens with a bleak scene. King Herod, fuelled by ego and public approval, begins persecuting the early church. He has James, the brother of John, executed and promptly arrests Peter with the same intention.

This is not some minor setback for the early Christians; it is a moment of deep crisis. One of their key leaders is gone, and another faces the same fate. Herod, a power-hungry ruler, is determined to extinguish this growing Jesus movement, and the local people cheer him on.

In the face of such despair, the early church’s response is striking: “But the church was earnestly praying to God for him.” (Acts 12:5)

That little word but carries immense weight. Herod may have had his soldiers, swords, and prisons, but the church had something greater: prayer. Even in the shadow of death and persecution, the church responded not with protests or panic, but with earnest prayer.

The power of prayer

Prayer is not wishful thinking. It is not passive. It is powerful—an act of entrusting our world to the One who shaped it with a breath.

Even though circumstances looked hopeless for Peter, something extraordinary happened. An angel of the Lord appeared in the prison cell. Peter was chained between two guards, with more soldiers stationed outside, and yet he walked out untouched. Doors opened. Chains fell. Guards remained unaware. The impossible became reality.

And it all began with a praying church.

Later in the chapter, we’re told that Herod, who basked in the adulation of the crowds, was struck down and died, “eaten by worms.” A grotesque but pointed reminder that earthly kings, however powerful, are not sovereign. God is.

And what follows this chilling turn of events? “But the word of God continued to spread and flourish.” The world had its rulers, but God had His plans, and prayer played a vital role in advancing them.

The potential of prayer

Steve Jobs famously doubted the potential of the iPhone when it was first being developed. At the time, Apple’s iPod dominated the market, and he feared that launching a phone would cannibalise their success. He underestimated the potential of what lay in his hands.

Many of us do the same with prayer.

We reduce prayer to the realm of personal comfort: Help me get that job, fix this relationship, make my life easier. Not that these requests are wrong, but they are narrow.

The Book of Acts paints a much grander picture. God wasn’t simply interested in Peter’s convenience or comfort. He had a mission—a global one. “You will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8). Peter’s rescue wasn’t just about Peter. It was about continuing the work of spreading the gospel.

When we pray, we’re not merely asking for help; we are participating in God’s mission. We’re aligning ourselves with His will, His purposes, and His story. That might mean our circumstances change—or it might mean our perspective does.

The most courageous prayer we can pray is: Not my will, but yours be done.

The community of prayer

There’s something beautifully British—and deeply human—about soldiering on silently. But in prayer, we’re invited into something countercultural: community.

What’s fascinating in Acts 12 is that there’s no mention of Peter praying. The focus is entirely on the church praying for him. When Peter is miraculously freed, he heads straight for a home where believers are gathered in prayer. It’s not individual spirituality that sees Peter through, it’s collective intercession.

This is why Christian community matters. It’s why prayer groups, small groups, and even WhatsApp groups with a 🙏 emoji aren’t trivial. They represent people standing in the gap for one another.

But let’s be honest—how often do we type “praying for you” or drop in the prayer emoji without actually stopping to pray? Perhaps we need a gentle challenge: whenever we send that emoji, let’s make it a personal rule to pray then and there.

In some cases, the most loving thing we can do is to say to someone, “Let me carry this prayer for you.” There are times when people are too weary, heartbroken, or confused to pray themselves. That’s when the community steps in.

The surprise of prayer

Now comes one of the most delightful and human parts of the story. Peter, freshly freed from prison by an angel, knocks on the door of the very people praying for him. A servant girl, Rhoda, recognises his voice, and in her excitement, runs to tell the others—leaving Peter outside. Their response? “You’re out of your mind.”

They were astonished when they finally opened the door and saw him.

What does this tell us? That the people praying weren’t even expecting their prayer to be answered. And yet, God answered anyway.

This is one of the most freeing truths about prayer: it doesn’t depend on perfect technique, eloquence, or even unwavering faith. God isn’t waiting for you to get your act together before He acts. He responds out of His love, not our performance.

Imagine a toddler falling over and crying, and the parent saying, “Well, I’d help you, but you didn’t ask correctly.” We’d never do that. Neither does God. He doesn’t wait for flawless prayers. He simply wants us to come.

Prayer that dares to dream

In light of all this, what should our response be?

Let’s be people who pray bold, global prayers—not just “help me” prayers, but “use me” prayers.

Let’s embrace community—not seeing prayer as a solo endeavour, but as something we do together, for one another.

Let’s learn to trust that God is at work, even when we can’t see it, and even when our faith feels wobbly.

Above all, let’s remember that the power of prayer isn’t in us. It’s in the One to whom we pray. The God who created galaxies, defeated death, and knows your name.

So whether you're crying out in desperation, whispering in hope, or struggling to believe your words matter at all—keep praying. Because even when the night is darkest, even when the king sits on his throne and mocks, even when chains rattle and doors slam shut...

The church was praying.

And that changed everything.

The original teaching has been edited for clarity and brevity; This is not a transcript.