Spirit of Prayer
Saul of Tarsus was once a hardened obstinate sinner. He styles himself the chief of sinners, a blasphemer, a persecutor, and injurious. But he was a chosen vessel. It pleased God, who separated him from his mother’s womb, suddenly to arrest him in his career; and near the spot where he had anticipated the success of a commission armed with the most unrelenting virulence against the trembling Christians, to humble him to the dust. He had in all its strength and prominence, borne the image of the earthly; but now he bears the inia2;e of the heavenly. Behold, saith the testimony of the faithful and true witness, jBehold, lie prayeth! He is not now the persecuting Saul; but the heaven-born, praying Paul. The-J 64 Spirit of Prayer.
proud Pharisee has become the humble suppliant; the stubborn rebel the meek child of JesuSo “No sooner is the soul born than it breathes; ‘’ no sooner is Paul converted, than Behold, he ‘* prays /”
When we say that the spirit of prayer is conclusive evidence of Christian Character, we feel Under obligation to point out wherein that spirit consists. We are not to forget that there is such a thing as drawing nigh unto God with the mouthy and honouring Him wilh the lips, while the heart is Jar from Him. The hearts of men may be as stupid and unfeeling, as proud and as self-righteous; they may be in the exercise of as sensible opposition to the character of the Most High, to the law and the gospel, while offering up the most solemn expressions of homage, as they are when God is not in all their thoughts. But it is not so wilh the righteous. His prayer goeth not Jorlh out of feigned lips. With the spiritual worshipper, the heart feels what the lips express.
The spirit of prayer is humble. It flows from a broken and contrite heart. The publican could not so much as lift up his eyes to heaven, but smote vpon hk breast saying, God be mere if id to me a sinner! Before Him who is so great, that the nations are as the drop of the bucket in His presence; and so holy, that the heavens are impure in His sight; the suppliant feels as a man of unclean lips. Every sentiment of his heart constrains him to make the affecting confession, O my Gody I am ashamed y and blush to lift up my face to TheCy for my iniquities are increased over my heady and my trespass is grown up unto the Heavens! Sometimes a sense of guilt so overwhelms the soul, as to prevent its free access to the throne. Mine iniquities have taken hold upon me, says the Psalmist, so that I am not able to look up j they arc more than the hairs of mine head, therefore my heart failr cth me.
The spirit of prayer is also believing. Numerous and aggravated as his sins appear; much as they attempt to discourage the believer from duty, he does not yield to the discouragement. He has respect unto the sacrifice of the Son of God. He believes that God is, and that He is a r( warder of all who diligently seek Him. He looks to Jesus, the Mediator of the better covenant, as the way of access to the Father. The efficacy of His blood, the virtue of His righteousness is hi* only plea» He has an unshaken confidence.
that God can glorify Himself by answering his requests for Christ’s sake, and he is therefore emboldened to press them in Christ’s name. Though he has a lively sense of his own unworthiness, yet he knows that he has a Great High Priest that has passed into the Heavens Jesus the Son of Gody who is touched ?vith a feeling of his infirmities, and he therefore comes boldly to the throne of grace, that he may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need, ITntil the work of redeeming grace shall cease; until the Father shall forget the Son of His love; until the name of Christ shall cease to be precious, and His intercession shall be no longer prevailing — faith in the blood of the spotless sacrifice will appertain to the nature of prayer.
But the spirit of prayer is also submissive. The suppliant prefers God’s will to his own. This was the disposition which our Blessed Lord manifested in the Garden. It was an awful thought to Him to die; but it was a still more awful one, that His Father’s will should not be accomplished. Though Christ viewed the death of the cross in its own nature dreadful, yet he viewed the will of His Father delightlul. He chose that His Father’s will should be done rather than His own. The cup which my father hath given me, shall I not drink it 1 His will was absorbed in the will of God. O m] Father, if it BE POSSIBLE, let this cup pass from me; neverthelesSy not MY will, but THINE be done! This, in a greater or less degree, is the spirit of every genuine suppliant. He pours forth the fulness of his heart in the affectionate language of a child, and the submissive language of a servant He is prepared to be accepted, or to be rejected in his petitions. He approaches the mercy-seat with the desire that God would exercise His wisdom and grace in granting or denying his requests.
This is the spirit of prayer; sincere, humble, believing, submissive. Other prayer than this the Bible does not require, God will not accept. This is the spirit of genuine devotion; a spirit which you cannot be conscious of possessing, without the consciousness of your reconciliation to God. Because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the spirit of His Son into your hearts, crying Abba, Father. If you possess this spirit, though it be in a very imperfect state, you enjoy the high privilege of being adopted into God’s family, and of occupying the place, not of strangers, not of foreigners, not merely of servants, but of children, heirs of God, and joint heirs with Jesus Christ. When the Spirit bears witness fvith our spirits that we are the children of Gody how high the pleasure to utter our acknowledgments, to lisp our praise, to breathe forth our complaints toward Heaven! What tongue can express the sweetness of these seasons of refreshing! How is the heart enlarged! Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. No slavish fear perplexes the mind; no frown of divine displeasure guards the throne of mercy. The children of the common Father come near even to His seat. There they taste and see that the Lord is gracious; there, they are assimilated into the likeness of the Holy One; there they see the clearest manifestations of the divine beauty; and beholding as in a glass the glori, of the Lordy arc changed into the same image, from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.
Does the reader possess the spirit of prayer? Is it his meat and his drink to hold communion w ith God — through Christ, to have access by one Spirit unto the Father? Is it his greatest pleasure to be near to God, and hi? greatest grief to be iar from Him? If so, however great his fears, be may hope. His privilege is the privilege of sons; his consolations, those hidden joys with which a stranger intermeddleth not; his seasons of refreshing, foretastes of the river of life, which flows from the throne of God and the Lamb.
It may not be amiss, while we are upon this subject, to spend a few minutes in looking at the question, What evidence does the long continued practice of the external duty of prayer afford of the existence of vital religion in the heart? We do not mean, by this statement, necessarily to exclude the spirit from the form of prayer. If we did, the question would be at an end. What evidence does the long continued practice of the external form afford of the existence of the internal spirit? It is a question of moment.
Men may pray much, and yet not be Christians, They may pray in public, and in their families, and still not be Christians. This they may do to gratify their pride; to be seen of men; to maintain the character of Christians in the view of the world. They may pvay in secret and not be Christians: But whether men j)ersevere in the hahitval prarfice of secret prayer without good evidence
’21 of Christian character, is a f|iiestion which I dare not answer in the negative. Neither would I venture to answer it unhesitatingly in the affirmative. This much the Bible will surely warrant us to say, Men who are not Christians will he exceedingly apt to neglect, and in the end, wholly to neglect the prac, tice of secret prayer. Men do not act without motive. Now what motive can induce a mii who is dead in tresspasses and sins, whose carnal heart is enmity against God, to persevere in the habitual practice of secret prayer? Is it to silence the clamours of a guilty conscience? To do this, he will pray, and often pray in secret. But will he always call upon God? The impenitent are sometimes the subjects of much seriousness; they are convinced of their duty, and alarmed at their danger; and while they remain in this state, they are compelled to admit the truth and importance of religion, and dare not omit the duty of secret prayer. But when they lose their convictions and forget their danger, the duties of the closet gradually become irksome. At length, they are a weariness. Conscience ceases to govern, and almost to accuse. Her monitory voice is silenced; and it becomes less and less difficult to cast off fear, and restrain prayer before God.
There is another motive which will induce the impenitent to maintain the practice of secret devotion for a considerable length of time. When once they have wrought themselves into the persuasion that they are Christians, and have cherished the hope that they are interested in the blessings of the gospel salvation, they relinquish the persuasion, and abandon the hope with singular reluctance. They will do much to entertain and defend them. They are too selfish to omit a duty, the omission of which bears in its very face convincing evidence that they are hypocrites. They will rather practise the most self-denying duties, even long after they have lost their borrowed sweetness, for the sake of the testimony which they derive from this source, that they are the children of God. This motive no doubt operates in many instances powerfully, and for some time; but does it operate uniformly, ani to the end of life? With persons of this description, the omission of secret prayer is at first occasional; then, more or less frequent as other avocations demand; till, at length, the cares of the world, the temptations of the Adversary, and the allurements of sin so far blind the understanding and stupify the conscience, that Ihe mo<t hardened sinner still cherishes his vain confidence, while he closes his eyes upon the last glimmering of evidence that that confidence k script m’al.
But though men may pray, and pray sometimes in secret, they will be exceedingly apt to neglect this duty, if they are not Christians. Wherever you find the habitual performance of secret prayer for a long course of years, there is some reason to believe, you find the breathings of the new born soul. There you may hope that there are hungerings and thirstings after righteousness. There you will usually discover a heart that is not in pursuit of hope mereiy, but grace; not safety only, but holiness. There you will usually, if not always, discover one, not muttering over a few unmeaning sentences, as devoid of life as a loathsome carcass is of the life-giving spirit; but one whom the Spirit of God has taught to pray, because he is weak and needs strength; because he is tempted and needs support; because he is in want and needs supply; because he is a sinner and needs mercy.
If these remarks are just, it is not impertinent to ask the reader, whether lie practises the duty of secret prayer? We do not ask whether he prays in secret now and then; whether lie performs this duty on the Sabbath, or some occasional seasons of unusual alarm or solemnity? Is this his habitual practice.’ Has it been his habitual practice ever since he hoped he was brouo;ht out of darkness into God’s marvellous light? No matter how punctual you are in other duties; no matter what evidence you have of your conversion from any other quarter; if you have not this, you may set all other down for nought. The want of this is decisive evidence against you, even if the possession of it is not decisive evidence in your favour. Prayer has been often styled the “Chris- “tian’s breath.” ft is eminently so. A prayerless Christian! No, it cannot be. It is a mark of the highest delusion, of the grossest stupidity, to cherish the hope of having made your peace with God, and at the same time to live in the neglect of secret prayer. Who that has the least pretension to religion, can presume to live without seeking the favour, without deprecating the wrath, and without realizing the presence of Him in whom he lives, and moves, and has his being? To live without prayer, is emphatically, to live tvithout God in the world.
174 Spirit of Proftr.
Before I conclude this e««ay, I would crire one caution to a certain class of readers. There are not wantinsT those who live in constant doubt and trembling, because they do not enjoy the constant presence of God, and the uniform ferrency of affection in their retirements. Real Christians bare seasons of coldness which chill the spirit of devotion. Such i? the power of indwelling sin; so great is the influence of the world, the flesh, and the Devil, that even God’s own dear children are sometimes carried too far down the current. Yes, to the lame and guilt of God*s people, we are constrained to make this aflecting acknowledgment. Still, tiiiakumiliatH^tnitfa does not militate against our general principle. Real Christians cannot lire in the nesclect of prayer; nay, more, Ibose who do not possess the spirit, and live in the babitual performance of the duty, are im ikt gaB rfiitlenuss, amdikebomds of imiqmiti/. The monan begins to live in the neglect of prayer, raofnent be should take the alarm.
May it then be said of you as it was of Saul of Tarsus, Btkoid he prwftik I If so, then you like him may be a eken xisstL Maintain a constant and unifonn intinBC j with the throne of grace.
and for the sake of our Great High Priest, God will put his fear into your hearts, and you shall not depart from him. Draw nigh unto God, and he will draw nigh unto you. Keep near to the fountain head, and with joy shall you draw water out of the wells of salvation.