We may have only glimpses of Jesus’ habits and personal spiritual practices in the Gospels, but what we do have is no accident, nor is it scant. We know exactly what God means for us to know, in just the right detail—and we have far more about Jesus’ personal spiritual rhythms than we do about anyone else in the Bible.
First, observe the place of Scripture in Jesus’ life. He did not have his own personal material copy of the Bible, like almost all of us do today. He heard what was read aloud in the synagogue, and what his mother sang, and he rehearsed what he had put to memory. And yet throughout his recorded ministry we see evidence of a man utterly captivated by what is written in the text of Scripture.
At the very outset of his public ministry, Jesus retreated to the wilderness; there, as he was tempted by the devil, he leaned on what is written (Matthew 4:4, 6, 7, 10; Luke 4:4, 8, 10). Then, returning to his hometown of Nazareth, he stood up to read, took the scroll of Isaiah (61:1-2), and announced, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:21).
Jesus identified John the Baptist as “he of whom it is written” (Matthew 11:10; Luke 7:27), and he cleared the temple of moneychangers on the grounds of what is written in Isaiah 56:7 (Matthew 21:13; Mark 11:17; Luke 19:46). He rebuked the proud by quoting Scripture (Mark 7:6; Luke 20:17).
At every step of the way to Calvary, he knew everything would happen “as it is written” (see especially John’s Gospel: 6:31, 45; 8:17; 10:34; 12:14, 16; 15:25). “The Son of Man goes as it is written of him,” he said (Mark 14:21). “See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written about the Son of Man by the prophets will be accomplished” (Luke 18:31).
Let there be no confusion about the central place of God’s written word in Jesus’ life. He lived by what was written.
For Christ, “the wilderness” or “desolate place” often became his momentarily sacred space. He regularly escaped the noise and frenzy of society to be alone with his Father, giving him his full attention.
After “his fame spread everywhere” (Mark 1:28) and “the whole city was gathered together at the door” (v 33), Jesus took a remarkable step: “Rising very early in the morning, while it was still dark, he departed and went out to a desolate place, and there he prayed.” (v 35) What a ministry opportunity he left behind, some might think. Surely some of us would have skipped or shortened our private spiritual habits to hurry off and bless the swelling masses.
Let there be no confusion about the central place of God’s written word in Jesus’ life. He lived by what was written.
To be sure, other times would come when Jesus would delay his personal routines to meet immediate needs. But how many of us, in such a situation, would have the presence of mind—and the heart—to discern our need and prioritize prayer as Jesus did?
Luke also shows unmistakably that this pattern of retreat and re-entry was part of the ongoing dynamic of Christ’s human life. Jesus “departed and went into a desolate place” (Luke 4:42)—not just once but regularly. “He would withdraw to desolate places and pray” (5:16). So also in Matthew. After the death of John the Baptist, Jesus “withdrew from there in a boat to a desolate place by himself” (Matthew 14:13). Even then, the crowds pursued him. Yet he didn’t despise them—here he puts his desire to retreat on hold—but had compassion on them and healed their sick (v 14). After feeding them, a crowd five thousand strong, he withdrew again to a quiet place. “After he had dismissed the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray” (v 23).
What is written animated his life, and when he withdrew, he went to speak to his Father in prayer. At times, he went away by himself, to be alone (Matthew 14:23; Mark 6:46- 47). “He went out to the mountain to pray, and all night he continued in prayer to God” (Luke 6:12). He also prayed with others.
The disciples saw him model prayer at his baptism (Luke 3:21), as he laid his hands on the children (Matthew 19:13), and when he drove out demons (Mark 9:29). He prayed with his disciples; even when he prayed alone, they were sometimes at hand (Luke 9:18; also 11:1). He took Peter, John, and James “and went up on the mountain to pray” (9:28).
On the night before he died, he said to Peter, “I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail” (22:32). All of John 17 is his prayer for his disciples, in the hearing of the Twelve. Then they went out from that upper room and saw him pray over and over in the garden (Matthew 26:36, 39, 42, 44). He not only modeled prayer but instructed them in how to pray. “Pray then like this…” (6:9-13).
Jesus didn’t only retreat to be alone with God but also invited his disciples to join him. In Mark 6:31-32, he tells them, “Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.” Mark explains, “For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a desolate place by themselves.”
So also, in the Gospel of John, as his fame spread, Jesus retreated from more populated settings to invest in his disciples in more desolate, less distracting places (John 11:54). And this is his invitation to us, as well, today: to cultivate habits of withdrawing to hear from God and respond in prayer, and then of returning, with our hearts and minds renewed, to echo the love of Christ in acts of love toward those he has put along our path.
This is my prayer for readers as we linger over the glories of Christ in the chapters of my book, Rich Wounds: that your soul would be fed and formed in quiet moments, meditating on his word, and that you would be newly energized in the callings he has given you.
In it all—in receiving his Father’s voice in Scripture and in praying alone (and with company)—Jesus sought communion with his Father. His habits were not demonstrations of will and sheer discipline. His acts of receiving the word and responding in prayer were not ends in themselves. In these blessed means, he pursued the end of communing with his Father.
Learn more about Rich Wounds by David Mathis here. This book works fantastically as a devotional at any time of year. The chapters on Holy Week make it especially helpful during the Lent season and at Easter.