AUDIO PODCAST

In the invisible theatre of war between the kingdom of light and the dominion of darkness, prayer is not optional—it is the strategy of not only survival, but also thriving in a world given to chaos.

It is communion and command. It is supplication and resistance. The Christian who refuses to pray has already accepted defeat before the first arrow flies (Ephesians 6).

The Holy Spirit, through James, reveals a divine pattern:

“Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”
(James 4:7, KJV)

This is more than a memory verse. It is a military protocol. Submission activates authority. Prayer is the submission. Resistance without submission is rebellion; submission without prayer is passive and powerless religiosity. But together, submission and prayer become an unstoppable force against the gates of hell.

EPHRAIM: MIGHTY IN NAME, MISSING IN BATTLE

Now consider Ephraim.

“The children of Ephraim, being armed, and carrying bows, turned back in the day of battle.”
(Psalm 78:9, KJV)

Here was a tribe known for their strength, their reputation, and their arsenal—but none of that mattered when it was time to actually stand. They turned back. Why? Because power unused is as useless as power unknown.

The tribe of Ephraim had military potential but lacked spiritual resolve. They were warriors in name only. And so are many modern believers—armed with theology, scripture, and Christian slogans—but prayerless. Thus powerless. They had the military capability but lacked the will and internal fortitude.

Matthew Henry notes on this verse:

“They were well armed and well trained, but cowardly and faithless… Their strength was of no use because their hearts failed them.”

It is prayer that steels the heart. It is intercession that converts the weak into warriors and overcomers.

DAVID AND THE SHOUTING ARMY

Before David ever picked up a sling, the armies of Israel had already assembled for battle—but not to fight. They came daily to posture, to shout, to appear ready in the same way we gather each Sunday.

This by no means threatens our adversary. The real test is not how well you can sing but whether you can hack it in prayer. When the real test came—a giant named Goliath—no one dared take him on. Instead they fled in fear.

How many strongmen are oppressing the children of God today because no one is resisting them?

“So David rose early in the morning… and he came to the encampment as the army was going out to the battle line, shouting the war cry…And the men of Israel said, Have ye seen this man that is come up? Surely to defy Israel, he come up… and all the men of Israel, when they saw the man, fled from him and were sore afraid.”
(1 Samuel 17:20-24)

They had a formation—but no fire. They had a sound—but no substance. They shouted from the hillside (verse 20) but none dared cross the valley. Why? Because no one had been praying. No one had been abiding. No one had been wrestling with God in secret. No one knew God nor the power that comes that knowing.

The army of Israel looked ready. They sang the songs, wore the armour, and shouted the battle cry. But it was performance without presence, sound without substance. Just like many churches today—loud in the pews, silent in the war.

They were shouting, but not fighting. David, a youth unknown to the army but known to God, was the only one who entered the valley. Why? Because while they prepared for battle with noise, he had prepared in secret with God.

This perfectly illustrates our modern dilemma:

• We declare revival but fear confrontation.
• We sing about victory but hide from giants.
• We say “amen” to sermons but fail to descend into the place of real intercession.

David didn’t just hear the threat—he responded. He had been conditioned in the fields through communion, not conditioned by crowds for applause.

Let’s stop shouting from the hilltops and start kneeling in the trenches. True warfare doesn’t start with noise—it starts with knowing the Lord of Hosts in the secret place.

David, on the other hand, had been in the fields—with God, not with the crowd. He didn’t just bring bread and cheese—he brought faith formed in prayer. And because of that, he entered the battle everyone else avoided.

This moment in Israel’s history mirrors what Jesus later taught about spiritual warfare:

“When a strong man armed guards his palace [house], his goods are in peace: But when a stronger than he shall come upon him, and overcome him, he takes his armour in which he trusted, and divides his spoils.”
(Luke 11:21–22)

Goliath was the strong man—intimidating, entrenched, and unchallenged. Israel was the silent house—guarded but passive. But David, a man forged in prayer and presence, entered not with conventional weapons but with confidence in the covenant.

Theology isn’t enough on its own. David could do great exploits because he knew the God of the covenant.

Sadly, much of the modern Church looks more like the army of Israel than the shepherd David.

We shout from the hills—songs, slogans, social media—but few descend into the battlefield of intercession. We host conferences and make declarations, but Goliath still roams the valley, mocking the living God. Why? Because spiritual battles are not won by noise but by nearness—not by crowds, but by communion.

THE STORY OF THE MAGID OF MEZRITCH AND THE HOLY FIRE: A HASIDIC PARABLE ON REMEMBRANCE AND SPIRITUAL VITALITY

Prayerlessness is not merely a Christian issue—it is a universal human challenge. Throughout history, men and women have recognised that spiritual forces beyond time and space seek to disrupt peace on earth, and that these forces must be confronted. Yet, all too often, we forget this vital truth. Satan, strongmen and demons know that if they can keep us asleep, living on autopilot, then their won’t even be a battle. All that reamisn is resignation and a life of curated stories, but no power.

A profound Hasidic parable—popularised by Elie Wiesel in his 1972 book The Gates of the Forest—has its roots in the oral traditions surrounding the early Hasidic masters of Eastern Europe. It tells of four generations of spiritual leaders and their relationship to a sacred ritual, reflecting the fading yet enduring ember of devotion across time:

“When the Baal Shem Tov, founder of Hasidism, faced a difficult task, he would go to a certain place in the forest, light a holy fire, and say a special prayer—and what he had set out to accomplish was done.

When the next generation came, the Magid of Mezritch, chief disciple of the Baal Shem Tov, faced the same task. He would go to the same place in the forest and say: ‘We can no longer light the fire, but we can still say the prayer’—and it was enough.

Later, Rabbi Moshe Leib of Sasov confronted this task. He went into the forest and said: ‘We can no longer light the fire, and we do not know the prayer, but we know the place in the forest’—and that was enough.

Then came Rabbi Israel of Rizhyn. He sat in his chair and said: ‘We cannot light the fire. We do not know the prayer. We cannot even find the place in the forest. All we can do is tell the story.’

And it was enough.”

Is living a life with a handfull of stories instead of power enough for you?

Do you know the secret place where the holy flame of prayer burns?

Though the story draws from Hasidic oral tradition, Wiesel’s telling became the most famous:

“God made man because He loves stories,” Wiesel writes—and this parable captures that truth.

It features four generations of Hasidic masters:

1. The Baal Shem Tov – the founder of Hasidism.
2. Dov Ber of Mezritch (The Magid) – his chief disciple.
3. Rabbi Moshe Leib of Sasov – known for his compassion.
4. Rabbi Israel of Rizhyn – a spiritual leader in 19th-century Ukraine.

Each successive rabbi loses a piece of the ritual—the fire, the prayer, the location—but retaining the story itself becomes a final act of spiritual connection.

Here we are in the 21st century, barely able to recall the stories—so is it any surprise that we live without the power to overcome?

This tale is often used to explore themes of:

• Tradition vs. innovation
• The decline of spiritual practices
• The enduring power of memory, narrative, and faith

However as Scripture states in James 1:22,

“But be doers of the word [the stories, examples], and not hearers only, so deceiving yourselves”

It turns out that simply knowing the stories of those who lived out the teachings isn’t enough—true transformation only comes when we follow their example in practice.

MEN AND WOMEN OF PRAYER: HOURS IN THE PRESENCE

Every man or woman of God who has changed the world has first changed the atmosphere of their room through prayer.

Here’s what the greats said:

• Paul Yonggi Cho, pastor of the largest church in the world (Yoido Full Gospel Church, Seoul, South Korea, with over 800,000 members), prayed for 4–5 hours a day. “I pray, and I obey,” he said. “Prayer is the most important thing in my life.”
• Kenneth E. Hagin, founder of the Word of Faith movement, often spent 5 to 6 hours daily in prayer. “You can’t have spiritual power without spending time in prayer. It’s not automatic.”
• Watchman Nee, persecuted church leader in China, was known to spend entire nights in intercession. “Our prayers are not for the purpose of changing God’s will but to enable us to execute His will.”

Daniel demonstrated extraordinary perseverance in prayer. When faced with spiritual opposition, he continued praying and fasting for twenty-one days until he received a divine answer:

“Then said he unto me, Fear not, Daniel: for from the first day that thou didst set thine heart to understand, and to chasten thyself before thy God, thy words were heard, and I am come for thy words.”
(Daniel 10:12, KJV)

Even Jesus—Son of God, sinless, full of the Spirit—prayed constantly.

“He went up into a mountain apart to pray: and when the evening was come, He was there alone.” (Matthew 14:23)

“And in the morning, rising up a great while before day, he went out, and departed into a solitary place, and there prayed.” (Mark 1:35)

If Jesus needed prayer, what makes us think we don’t?

NOTABLE BIBLICAL FIGURES AND THE DURATION OF THEIR PRAYERFUL DEVOTION

Name	Role	Duration of Prayer/Fasting	Scripture Reference	Notes
Moses	Prophet/Leader	40 days and nights	Exodus 24:18; Deuteronomy 9:9	On Mount Sinai receiving the Law
Elijah	Prophet	40 days and nights	1 Kings 19:8	Journey to Mount Horeb
Daniel	Prophet	21 days	Daniel 10:2-12	Prayed and fasted until receiving a vision
Jesus	Son of God	Often withdrew for hours or nights	Mark 1:35; Luke 6:12; Matthew 14:23	Prayed before major decisions and ministry moments
Paul	Apostle	Frequently in prayer (length not specified)	Acts 9:11; Acts 16:25	Known for persistent prayer during ministry
Anna	Prophetess	Night and day, fasting and prayer	Luke 2:36-37	Devoted herself to constant worship
Nehemiah	Leader/Prophet	Frequently fasted and prayed	Nehemiah 1:4; Nehemiah 9	For restoration of Jerusalem
David	King/Prophet	Repeated prayers, sometimes throughout the night	Psalm 63:6; Psalm 119:147	Expressed ongoing dependence on God

If these prophets and disciples, chosen and anointed by God, devoted themselves to persistent and often prolonged prayer, what makes us think we can do any less? Their example calls us to abide continually in prayer, recognising it as the lifeblood of our relationship with God and the source of strength for every challenge we face.

TWO LIFESTYLES: A SHARP CONTRAST

Let’s compare the life of the prayerful and the life of the prayerless:

Aspect	Prayerful Life	Prayerless Life
Power	Walks in authority; sees miracles, breakthroughs	Lives in defeat; relies on human effort
Peace	Anchored in storms; sustained by God’s presence	Easily shaken; overwhelmed by anxiety
Discernment	Hears God’s voice; navigates with wisdom	Confused and misled; follows emotion or culture
Spiritual Warfare	Actively resists the enemy; protected and aware	Spiritually exposed; deceived and defeated
Fruitfulness	Bears lasting fruit; influences others	Barren; cyclical frustration and striving
Legacy	Leaves a spiritual inheritance for generations	Leaves behind missed potential and regret
Intimacy with God	Deep communion; knows the heart of the Father	Knows about God but not with God
Joy	Sustained joy from abiding presence	Mood swings based on circumstances

A FINAL WARNING AND INVITATION

Let us not be like Ephraim: strong in symbol, weak in soul. Let us not be counted among those who had weapons but never fought. The enemy is not afraid of our posts, podcasts, or platforms. He fears our knees. He fears our prayers.

“The fervent prayer of a righteous man makes much power available to get the job done.” (James 5:16)

If your life lacks power, check your prayer. If your home lacks peace, check your altar. If your ministry lacks fire, return to the secret place. The prayerless life is not just powerless. It is perilous. But the life steeped in prayer? That is the life that plunders hell and populates heaven.

DEVOTIONAL PRAYER

MEMORY VERSES

“The children of Ephraim, being armed, and carrying bows, turned back in the day of battle.”
(Psalm 78:9, KJV)

“Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”
(James 4:7, KJV)

“When a strong man armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in peace: But when a stronger than he shall come upon him… he taketh from him all his armour.”
(Luke 11:21–22, KJV

5 QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION

1. In what areas am I “armed” but unwilling to fight in prayer?
2. Have I replaced communion with activity, planning, or performance?
3. How many hours do I give to scrolling, worrying, or talking—compared to praying?
4. What legacy of prayer am I leaving behind?
5. What would change in my life if I made prayer a daily priority again?

The prayerless life is not just powerless. It is perilous.

Let the altar burn again. Let the warriors rise.