Take the following remarks: "This hamburger is tasty"; "The weather today is sunny"; "I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth ...."

A moment's reflection shows us that the third statement is very different from the previous two. The first two remarks are just that -- remarks. But the third one is odd in some way. It isn't merely a comment, but an action. As well as saying something, when we utter the third statement we are doing something. In fact, we are changing something. If, in a court of law, we tell a lie before we promise to tell the truth, nothing can be done to us. If, on the other hand, we tell a lie after we promise to tell the truth, we can face serious repercussions. Uttering that third statement has changed something for us. It has made us different from the person we were before we said it.

This idea of "performative speech" was first analyzed by a minor English philosopher in the second half of the last century. And it offers something of an insight into the nature of prayer.

No balanced practice of Step 11 can possibly include "shopping-list" prayers -- "Please, God, gimme this, gimme that." But those of us who are committed strongly to meditation are often puzzled at the nature and purpose of any prayer at all. What is it that prayer is supposed to do? Change God's mind?

The idea of prayer as performative speech offers some insight into this puzzle. Prayer is not, under this reading, a means of changing God: it's a means of changing ourselves, with the help of God as we understand God. If in prayer we ask God to change us in some way, the very fact of asking for that to happen changes us. It is an announcement of our readiness to accept whatever change may come, in the same way as someone swearing to tell the truth in a court of law is announcing that she is ready to accept the consequences of her oath. When we use Step 11 to pray in any meaningful sense, the change we seek has already started to happen, simply by us saying the prayer.