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Art Historian, Dr Jim Harris

I’ve been thinking about my Godchildren.  Loads of us have godchildren. We get them almost by accident.  We agree to be godparents because we love our friends and our families, because it makes us feel a little bit included and a little bit grown up and because we love a good christening party.

I have eight godchildren (that’s a lot of accidents – and a lot of parties) and they’re great. So, on the off-chance they’re listening, here’s a quick shout out to all of them.

Now, in case you’re wondering why they’re not all at school in double maths, or doing creative play with sand at nursery, I should explain that three quarters of my godchildren are now God-adults.  Two of them are older than I was when I became their godfather so, clearly, the relationship has moved on a little.

Even so, they’re still my godchildren and two things remain.  I send them postcards whenever I travel, and I pray for them.

See, that’s what you’re supposed to do with Godchildren - even if, as I am, you’re hopeless with birthdays, useless at Christmas, and don’t see them often - the deal is, you pray for them.

Seen like that, the whole godparental responsibility seems remarkably light. Or it does until you consider how serious a business praying might actually be: I believe you’re talking to God.  It’s a proper job.  Furthermore, even if the principle is clear, sometimes the practicalities aren’t.  How do you pray? Where do you even start?  We’re not the first ones to wonder.

One day, Jesus’ friends came to him because they’d seen him praying and wanted to know the secret. ‘Teach us to pray’, they said.  So he did.

Talk to God as if he was the best dad you could have, he said.  Show him respect.  Ask for what you need and say sorry for sometimes being an idiot.  Model yourself on him and ask him to help you keep out of trouble.

Even if you’re not a Christian you might recognise Jesus’ prayer, although you’re not likely to hear it in a cinema: it starts, ‘Our Father’.  There’s comfort in its simplicity and familiarity and, whether or not prayer is your thing, I reckon it’s a good starting point for thinking about our needs and the needs of others: our families, our friends, our world – or, indeed, our godchildren.