Unfortunately, cynicism can also be applied to the realm of prayer, as it promises to shield believers from unmet expectations. A Christian cynic may say:

In his book The Praying Life: Connecting with God in a Distracting World, author Paul Miller identifies the problem with cynicism in Christians: “To be cynical is to be distant. While offering a false intimacy of being ‘in the know,’ cynicism actually destroys intimacy.”

A Christian cynic may think: I knew it. Prayer just doesn’t work for me. If prayer is ineffective, there’s really no point in talking to God.

Cynicism is thus detrimental to our relationship with God. Cynicism can paralyse a person from doing anything; a cynic doesn’t want to commit himself to anything, because he believes it’s pointless. He merely seeks to watch passively, believing that there is no hope in life.

Instead of cynicism, the Bible calls us to adopt a childlike spirit when talking to our heavenly Father.

While teaching the disciples about prayer, Jesus reminds them of whom they come before in prayer: “If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:11).

We can ask God because of our faith in Him. A child who has confidence in his parents’ love will ask without hesitation. He might even keep repeating his request, to the point of badgering his parents. It is this childlike faith that drives persistence in prayer.

Jesus encourages us to pray persistently, like little children, through two parables of praying adults.

One of them is the man who pestered his neighbour to lend him bread for his guest (Luke 11:5–8), with his “shameless audacity” eventually compelling the neighbour to oblige (v. 8). It took the man not only boldness to ask, but also a belief in the ability of his neighbour to answer. What more, when we pray to an omnipotent and sovereign God?

The other is the persistent widow, who kept asking a judge to grant her justice (Luke 18:1–8). Jesus’ point is that “they should always pray and not give up” (v. 1).

As I examined my own prayerlessness, I realised that it was rooted in an unbelief in the active goodness of God.

Being a woman of action has always helped me to preserve a sense of control over my messy life. In a way, I felt that prayer meant acknowledging I was losing control. So, rather than pray, I often reckoned that I had to do something to get what I want.

Yet, over time and through trials and contemplation, I came to realise that prayer is work. Prayer is not passive: it doesn’t mean that just because I pray, I am not acting, for praying and acting are not mutually exclusive. I can pray and do something.

In fact, I took pride in my independence and didn’t like to ask for help. But God revealed to me that this was pride—believing I could achieve things on my own. I had forgotten that it was He who sustained and enabled me, and that my independence was but an illusion.

Instead of cynicism, we can also cling to biblical hope that is anchored in the unchanging nature of God and His Word.

In the book of Malachi, for example, the prophet delivers God’s message to the people of Israel, who were questioning His character upon their return from exile. Knowing they were beaten down from their experiences in Babylon, God assures them, “I have loved you” (Malachi 1:2).

When the cynical people retort, “How have you loved us?”, God affirms His electing love for Israel, and promises to deal with Judah’s enemies (vv. 2–5). Later, God says, “I the Lord do not change” (3:6).

Had God allowed His people to be brought into captivity due to their sin? Yes.

Did He love them enough to discipline them? Yes.

Had He patiently waited for the returning Israelites to repent of their lack of true worship and to stop doubting Him (vv. 7–8, 13–14)? Yes.

Our trials, unanswered prayers, and the mysteries of life on earth may tempt us to wonder about the dependability of God’s grace and goodness. Especially if we’re trying to reconcile this truth with difficult circumstances in our lives.

But our hope is grounded in the trustworthy character of God who loves us with an everlasting love. We see this love and goodness in the cross: God loved us to the extent of giving His “one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).

As Hebrews 10:23 urges us: “Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful.”

Because cynicism is insidious and can permeate every area of our lives, it’s an ongoing battle to keep it at bay. But I’ve found something that has helped me to manage it.

Since the middle of the pandemic, I’ve been keeping a prayer journal so that I can be more disciplined in praying. It also serves as a wonderful reminder of the prayers that God has answered—for example, the salvation of my brother, the return of a sister-in-Christ to church, and for a friend to become a father.

Of course, there are also many yet-to-be answered prayers. But looking back at my requests and tracking God’s answers to them always leaves me amazed at how God hears and answers in His time.

Rather than take a backseat in faith and life, we can find courage and conviction to engage with God, and hope through prayer—and encourage fellow siblings-in-Christ to do the same.

A prayerful life runs against the spirit of cynicism. As Miller sums it up neatly: “[Prayer] engages evil. It doesn’t take no for an answer. Prayer is feisty.”