The Highest Form of Prayer

Meditations on three types of prayer and moving beyond 'instrumental' approaches to prayer & meditation

In recent years, I regularly return to an idea of prayer and devotion as a kind of pure transcendent yearning, a realization of the necessity of prayer as an almost inescapable sensation in the core of your being that draws you to reorient towards the All-Highest, purely for the sake of that yearning.

Perhaps predictably, this sensation sometimes is reached during moments of serious tests & difficulties in life. It forces you to return to this core truth. When you feel a sense of both complete surrender and detachment, but also the recognition of the need to cling to spiritual practices such as prayer & meditation as a life raft. But I ask myself, does it need to only come when I’m most in need? Or can I cultivate this yearning more regularly?

This feeling is markedly different from the more conventional need for prayer we feel in life. Like many things in life, it comes in waves and there is a rhythm to it. At times we are particularly devoted to a strong habit of reflection and devotion. Other times we may falter or fall out of practice. This is natural (in my own humble experience).

In my observation, this flow manifests in three discernible types of prayer, that follow out of a basic recognition of the value of prayer & commitment to meditation in one’s life. As we’ll find from reviewing excerpts from the Baha’i Writings, one of these types is the most exalted.

The Three Types of Prayer

On the most basic level, there is prayer because we are obliged. This is the fruit of recognizing and accepting that prayer and meditation is a requirement of our lives as spiritual beings. With this understanding, we see prayer as being like breathing and commit to its practice for this sake. We put into action this recognition of prayer as a fundamental necessity of the soul, and as a ‘ladder for its ascent’. It emerges from a genuine desire to abide by the exhortation to recite “the verses of God every morn and eventide”. At its best it involves the noble desire to follow the commandments of God. In other words, we appreciate the obligatory nature of prayer and make it a centerpiece of our habits in alignment with an appreciation for its purpose in our life. At this level we conceive that ‘we pray because it is good for us to pray, we pray because it is a requirement’.

Although this undoubtedly can be a pure intention, we also may encounter some pitfalls. We can fall prey to an instrumental or rote understanding of the role of prayer in life. We may slip into an overly functional view of prayer. It might even feel unthinking, automatic, or like you’re checking off a box. We might have a practice of prayer, but upon reflection, is it truly driving us toward fundamental transformation? towards ascent? How do we know we are really drawing closer to the divine?

Another form of prayer, one that often shakes us from the pitfalls of viewing prayer habitually or functionally, is the kind of prayer that emerges from deeper within the heart, especially in moments of profound difficulties or in the face of the immediate exigencies of life.

We can all think of those moments. Perhaps a whole night spent in rapturous remembrance and deep focus. Maybe we recite a certain especially meaningful prayer, such as the Tablet of Ahmad or the Fire Tablet, many times. Our whole being concentrated on some pressing matter of great significance.

Often, these moments are extremely fruitful. They can serve as reminders of the power of prayer and devotion. Maybe we had even forgotten what that level of devotion is supposed to feel like. Maybe we reach new realizations about the direction of our life or find renewed strength to carry forward.

Sometimes it is deeply cathartic; we might have even fallen short of that regular obligation of daily prayer, stuck in a bad habit or rut, or maybe kept the regular practice but had fallen into that trap of habitual and unthinking devotion. In these moments the difficulty or pain can shock us out of that malaise and prevent us from drifting into prayer as a ‘empty form’. It is a reminder that our tongues should not “pay lip service in praise of God”, as the Báb states, while our hearts are not “attuned to the exalted summit of Glory, and the Focal Point of communion.”¹

Tests and difficulties definitely have a way of restoring that attunement, and prayer in those moments can be filled with ecstatic and transcendent feeling. Because such major life struggles come and go in cycles, and serve for our development and progression, we shouldn’t be surprised that they aid our practice of devotion. Again we see such cyclical patterns are a natural part of our life. We likely feel great appreciation for those moments of profound supplication in the face of grating difficulties, and for good reason.

And yet, there is still a form of prayer higher than this. That is prayer purely for the sake of God, out of love and devotion, and animated by this alone. This is the mode, as Baháʼu'lláh relates in the Long Obligatory Prayer, of “make of my prayer a fire that will burn away the veils which have shut me out from Thy beauty”, the mode of pure emptiness of self and detachment of any of those veil. As we’ve seen from reflection, such veils can include prayer for a certain end, whether for our soul’s sake, for growth, or for overcoming difficulties.

The Báb reminds us of this most exalted standard in this powerful exposition from the Persian Bayán (7:19), where He states:

"WORSHIP thou God in such wise that if thy worship lead thee to the fire, no alteration in thine adoration would be produced, and so likewise if thy recompense should be paradise. Thus and thus alone should be the worship which befitteth the one True God. Shouldst thou worship Him because of fear, this would be unseemly in the sanctified Court of His presence, and could not be regarded as an act by thee dedicated to the Oneness of His Being. Or if thy gaze should be on paradise, and thou shouldst worship Him while cherishing such a hope, thou wouldst make God’s creation a partner with Him, notwithstanding the fact that paradise is desired by men.

Fire and paradise both bow down and prostrate themselves before God. That which is worthy of His Essence is to worship Him for His sake, without fear of fire, or hope of paradise.

Although when true worship is offered, the worshipper is delivered from the fire, and entereth the paradise of God’s good-pleasure, yet such should not be the motive of his act. However, God’s favor and grace ever flow in accordance with the exigencies of His inscrutable wisdom.

The most acceptable prayer is the one offered with the utmost spirituality and radiance; its prolongation hath not been and is not beloved by God. The more detached and the purer the prayer, the more acceptable is it in the presence of God.

~ The Báb, Selections from the Writings of the Báb, p. 78

‘Abdu’l-Bahá too is reported to have stated that “in the highest prayer, men pray only for the love of God, not because they fear Him or hell, or hope for bounty or heaven…”, rather as an expression of pure love and remembrance, “when a man falls in love … it is impossible for him to keep from mentioning the name of his beloved. How much more difficult is it to keep from mentioning the Name of God when one has come to love Him…”.²

In this mode of devotion, we strip away any notion of benefit or recompense, of the self, of the exigencies and requirements of life, and our own frailties and doings. We worship for the sake of worship because it is the pure expression of our own nature as spiritual beings. It is prayer as a way of being.

This mirrors the very nature of God’s love, which is best seen not as an act, but as an outpouring of His pure and transcendent Existence, as a shedding the light of His Reality over all created things. Just like the ceaseless giving of the sun is an expression of its nature and essence, so too is prayer solely for the sake of God a matter of our essence. It is pure expressiveness that is beyond even need or want, beyond words. It is an exalted ideal we should strive for.

It should be said that neither of the prior two forms of prayer are ‘unacceptable’ per se. Naturally, our prayer may take those forms at many times throughout our lives. The act of refining this power takes time and stretches our inherent capacities. We should remember that regular prayer has been made a law for a reason, we should follow it as such, and we are obliged to it as a practice for our benefit. Certainly, we should not overlook this fact.

And so too is prayer in moments of difficulty received by God as He determines. We can rely on God’s Mercy to come to our aid in times of need and this should not stop us from those rapturous moments of devotion in the face of life’s challenges.

Additionally, perhaps it is true that, in this stage of our existence, we cannot always be in such a transcendent electrifying state of pure worship. Such moments of transcendence may just be too exalted to be a permenent state in this life. However, as these quotes demonstrate, our aim should be towards this third most ideal form of prayer.

Beyond Prayer, the exalted station of all things ‘for God’ in all aspects of life

To conclude, we’ll consider how this theme of transcendent purity of motive and devotion extends beyond prayer & meditation.

The notion of doing things purely ‘for God’ is an exalted standard that touches many aspects of our lives, including our rendering of good deeds. It is among the highest standards for true ethical behavior and relationships with others. This comes across in a number of quotes on the theme of doing all things ‘for God’.

The Báb is particularly emphatic about this as an aesthetic and ethical value, especially in the Persian Bayán. Nader Saiedi, in his work “Gate of the Heart”, highlights two instances where this principle is explored, in two provisional translations of the Báb drawing from Persian Bayán 3:17 and 7:2, where He states:

"Indeed the entire mystery of the Bayán is manifest in its name, for the numerical value of the word al-Bayan together with its integrative form of unity equalleth the numerical value of the words, 'for God' (lilláh) [i.e. 95], rendering the word Bayán a mirror for the Point of the Bayán [i.e. the Báb], Which in turn is the supreme Mirror of the words, 'for God', as well as a mirror for Him Whom God shall make manifest [i.e. the Manifestation to succeed the Báb, Baháʼu'lláh], inasmuch as He is the supreme Mirror of the words, 'for God"." ~the Báb, Persian Bayán 3:17, provisionally translated by Saiedi, Gate of the Heart, p. 263

"However, no act will become for God unless the one who performeth the act recognizeth the Tree of Truth [i.e. the Manifestation of God] ... It is not appropriate that anyone perform an act for someone, unless he doeth it for the sake of God, and it will not be for God, unless it is for the sake of the Revelation of that time...." ~the Báb, Persian Bayán 7:2, provisionally translated by Saiedi, Gate of the Heart, pp. 312-313

The centrality of this immensely exalted standard of devotion, implicating that recognition of God’s Messenger (and also the One to follow Him) is essential for our devotion and works to truly ascend towards God, is reiterated also towards the end of the Bayán, in 8:19, where He states:

"Ye perform your works for God from the beginning of your lives till the end thereof, yet not a single act is for the sake of Him Who is the Manifestation of God, to Whom every good deed reverteth…

Behold how great is the Cause, and yet how the people are wrapt in veils. I swear by the sanctified Essence of God that every true praise and deed offered unto God is naught but praise and deed offered unto Him Whom God shall make manifest.

Deceive not your own selves that you are being virtuous for the sake of God when you are not. For should ye truly do your works for God, ye would be performing them for Him Whom God shall make manifest and would be magnifying His Name. The dwellers of this mountain who are bereft of true understanding unceasingly utter the words, 'No God is there but God'; but what benefit doth it yield them? Ponder awhile that ye may not be shut out as by a veil from Him Who is the Dayspring of Revelation." ~the Báb, Persian Bayán 8:19, Selections from the Writings of the Báb, pp. 110-111)

We’ll close with one last case where this exact standard is conveyed powerfully in an oral discourse of Baháʼu'lláh, reported by the illustrious Baha’i chronicler Nabíl-i-Zarandí (note we should not assume that what follows are the exact words of Baha’u’llah). The following excerpt from that discourse was provisionally translated by Adib Masumian; you should review the complete discourse there, but I will reproduce the following section:

“Suppose there is a rich man, who possesseth a wealth so incalculable that it exceedeth even the number of people on this earth, and a poor man, whose indigence is as extreme as the affluence of the rich man. Suppose then that, with generosity and beneficence, the rich man gradually giveth so much of his wealth to the poor man that it doth revert that rich one to his own initial state of poverty. Consequently, as fate would have it, the formerly rich man now oweth a meager sum to another, yet this is a debt he is unable to pay. In the markets and in the streets, people arise to punish and torment him, and his deliverance from this state remaineth unimaginable until his debt is paid. It is under these circumstances that the formerly poor man cometh upon the formerly rich man, to whom he oweth his superior wealth. As the gaze of the formerly rich man falleth upon his friend, he thinketh to himself, “Would that this friend of mine remember my charity unto him, that he might rescue me from this plight!” Yet, the very moment the thought “I rendered charity unto him” entered the mind of the formerly rich man, all his good works sank into nothingness. He was, moreover, held back from obtaining the good-pleasure of God, and shut out as by a veil from the true meaning of humanity. In like manner, suppose the formerly poor man—indebted to the formerly rich man for the degree of affluence he now enjoyeth—should think to himself, “How excellent! Because of the infinite kindnesses this man rendered unto me, I am able to rescue him from his hardship and secure his comfort for the remainder of his life.” In thinking that he saved his friend through his kindness or his generosity, and not through humanity alone, this man depriveth himself of the chalice of pure intentions, and—despite the immensity of his wealth—departeth to the valley of eternal baseness and perpetual poverty, unless the beneficence of the formerly rich man be rendered purely out of humanity and strictly for the sake of God, and the act of the formerly poor man be carried out for God alone without consideration of previous or subsequent circumstances. “We nourish your souls for the sake of God; we seek from you neither recompense nor thanks. [Quran 76:9]” ~an oral discourse of Baháʼu'lláh transcribed by Nabíl-i-Zarandí, titled Panj Kanz (Five Treasures), provisionally translated by Adib Masumian

As we can see, this powerfully illustrates that our deeds of giving and our very self-conception should be permeated by this idea of ‘for God’. It confirms this ultimate ideal of purity and devotion that should drive our lives, whether in prayer or in service and the day-to-day acts we partake of. With this exalted ideal in mind, we should strive to refine our prayers and deeds to reflect this exalted standard.

1. The Báb, Selections from the Writings of the Báb, pp. 93–94

2. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, cited in J. E. Esslemont, Bahá’u’lláh and the New Era