It is because of God’s triunity that we have communion with God in prayer. Once we understand that the Christian life is constituted by the Trinity, we have an opportunity to pray in a way that is consistent with that constitution. If the Spirit unites us to the Son and reconciles us to the Father, we have an invitation to pray accordingly: to the Father, through the Son, by the Holy Spirit. This is not just the “theologically correct” way to pray but a way of praying that draws real spiritual power from being aligned with reality. The reality is that Christian prayer is already tacitly Trinitarian, whether we recognize it or not. Aligning with it means praying with the grain instead of against it. Wood has a grain to it. The long fibers that make up a piece of wood all run in one direction, and a wise woodworker will always find the direction of that grain before starting to work. He can work along the grain or cut across it, but he avoids planing or sanding against that grain because that is to invite a clash with the directionality built into the piece of wood. Paper has a grain to it as well, which is why you can tear straight lines down the page but not across it. Cat fur has a grain, and if you stroke a cat against that grain, the results are not good for felines or humans. When you work with the grain of the wood, or the paper, or the cat, things go well. When you go against the grain, either because you are oblivious to the structural forces involved or because you consider them negligible, things do not go as well. The act of prayer has, metaphorically speaking, a grain to it. Prayer has an underlying structure built into it, complete with a directionality that is worth observing. This grain is Trinitarian, running from the Spirit through the Son to the Father. It is a built-in logic of mediation, designed that way by God for reasons deeper than we are likely to fathom. But we do not need to understand it in order to benefit from its solid structural integrity. Nor do we need totake special lessons in praying in a properly Trinitarian fashion. The possibility of praying in a more Trinitarian way is all promise and no threat, all invitation and no danger. Christian prayer is already thoroughly, pervasively, structurally Trinitarian whether you have been noticing it or not. The only thing you have to add is your attention, to begin taking notice of what’s Trinitarian about prayer. Prayer is a great blessing, but it can be daunting and difficult when you stop to think what is involved in a finite, sinful creature reaching out to an infinite, holy God. When we recall the distance and dissimilarity between us and God, it is easy to wonder whether we have the ability to pray and whether coming into God’s presence is a good idea anyway. Perhaps it is that pressure that leads us to behave so poorly in our attempts at prayer: mouthing thoughtless clichés that even we don’t know the meaning of; tongue-tied; repetitious; distractible; with wandering minds that only succeed in coming back to self-centeredness as a reliable point of departure. Not only does God know that prayer is daunting, but it is even a biblical doctrine that we are not in ourselves equipped for: Romans 8:26 says, “We do not know what to pray for as we ought.” That same passage goes on to say that “the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.” And within a few verses, a second intercessor appears: “Christ Jesus is the one who died— more than that, who was raised—who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us” (Rom. 8:34). Christian prayer has double intercession built into it. The Father not only welcomes prayers, but he has provided mediation and perhaps even mediation of the mediation. Your prayer life is secure in the two hands of the Father. That built-in logic of mediation is the grain of prayer. We are directed to pray to the Father in the name of Jesus, and it is customary to do that by ending prayers with the formula “in Jesus’ name.” But there is a thought experiment that you can do to see more clearly the direction of the grain of prayer. If you try praying backwards, you will find yourself beginning with the formula, “in Jesus’ name,” as an introduction to set up everything you are about to say. This calls attention to the fact that all Christian prayer is offered under this sign: “Not by my authority or according to my fitness or deserving of a hearing, but on the basis of the finished work of Jesus Christ I approach God.” Now consider that even if you were praying to Jesus, you would still be approaching God the Son on the same basis: not by your own authority but on the basis of the finished work of Christ. Even when you pray to Jesus, you pray in Jesus’ name, because Christian prayer has a built-in logic of mediation, a directionality, a grain. That grain becomes more evident when you do something that runs a little bit against the grain, like petting a cat from tail to head. But when you are alert to the direction of the grain you can intentionally work along it. It is possible to pray with the grain, observing the directionality and the logic of mediation built into the Christian approach to God.

Sanders, Fred (2010-08-31). The Deep Things of God: How the Trinity Changes Everything (Kindle Locations 3607-3644). Good News Publishers/Crossway Books. Kindle Edition.

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