The Matter, Manner and Spirit of Prayer

“Wherewith shall I come before the Lord?” is the natural question which the suppliant asks. How shall we render “the calves of our lips,” so that they shall be unblemished and acceptable on the altar of prayer and praise?

The second and third lessons in this series have so close a relation, both logically and chronologically, that we hesitate to separate them. The former of them is negative: “Use not vain repetitions as the heathen do”; the latter is positive: “After this manner therefore pray ye.” In one case there is a warning against many and vain words; in the other there is an example, model, or mould of prayer, couched in words so singularly few, elect, and select, that nothing could be omitted or added without marring the symmetry of the most perfect form of prayer ever devised; one in which the language used is so far from being either “vain” or repetitious that it is infinitely full of meaning, each word being pregnant with significance.

II. Unmistakably does our Lord teach that the power of prayer does not depend on a 7niiltitude of words. We are not heard for our “much-speaking.” Nor are we under the necessity of endless explanation and expansion, as though we were dealing with one who is ignorant of our needs, or incapable of understanding our words. Our Heavenly Father knoweth, before we ask Him, what things we have need of; and reads our hearts’ desire even through the most imperfect medium of utterance; nor does He need, like a city held in a state of siege, to be constrained or compelled to grant our requests, as though His unwillingness, indifference or aversion must be first overcome. Like as a father pitieth his children, does He pity us; and earthly parents do not yearn over their offspring as He does over His own.

Our Lord’s caution seems mainly directed against all mere empty repetition — “vain repetitions,” such as abound in heathen prayers, wherein much speaking is supposed to make up for the lack of acceptable asking — a practice which finds both example and illustration in the experience of Elijah with the priests of Baal on Mount Carmel.*

The warning against vain repetition has a wider application: it takes in all thoughtless words and careless forms in prayer. The moment any set form of words is adopted, and begins to be familiar, so that it can be repeated thoughtlessly like the alphabet or multiplication table, we run the risk of vain repetitions. The Thibetan is not the only worshipper who turns a ’ prayer-wheel,’ or reels prayer off by the yard. It is possible to recite a prayer, no less sublime than the model which Christ gave his disciples, and yet with so little thought, understanding, appreciation or emotion, that it becomes

* I Kings xviii. 26. automatic and mechanical. Was it not Luther who said that the Lord’s Prayer is the principal martyr because it has suffered so much and so often from thoughtless repetition?

Those who use liturgical forms in worship have to be perpetually on their guard against the danger of losing out of the forms the spirit of true devotion, and of swinging an empty censer before the Lord. And it is itself a historic warning that, in proportion as spiritual life and power decline in the church, forms multiply and usurp the place of spontaneous and free worship. In the more spiritual periods of revival — of re7iaissance of holy living — devout disciples involuntarily burst these bonds, as a chrysalis does its shell when its wings are ready for a flight. While life is low, there is perhaps a contentment with inaction and restraint; but, when souls come forth into true freedom, like Lazarus from the grave, they must be loosed and let go. Inflexible forms are like swaddling-clothes or embalming-cloths; they will do for babes or for lifeless people, but, in proportion as regenerate disciples attain unto the liberty of the Spirit, they speak as He gives them utterance. To say no more, the most devout men and women have confessed that, in their highest experiences of drawing near to God, they are hampered and hindered by set forms of prayer; and that, in order to prevent even the best forms from becoming vain and empty, they must keep perpetually studying to enter more fully into their meaning and spirit, as, for example, in the use of the Lord’s Prayer.

III. Ks to th.Q. manner of Prayer. While our Lord here presents a form or mould for supplication, there is no sign that He meant to prescribe it as a form, above all as a fixed form of words to be used on all occasions or within any exclusive limits. It would seem to have been suggested first by a request from His disciples: “Lord, teach us to pray as John also taught his disciples.” But for this request, the “Lord’s Prayer” might never have been. Certainly it cannot legitimately be pressed into the service of ritualism, or made a barrier to freedom of utterance in supplication.

It teaches this, and not of necessity any more: that true prayer is to be built up according to the law and principle of orderly arrangement; it is to be a cosmos for order, not a chaos for confusion. Prayer is a thought and implies a thinker; it implies intelligent design and bespeaks a designer. Behind acceptable and becoming supplication lies meditation: what do I want and what am I authorized to ask from God?

The so-called, Lord’s Prayer, is mostly if not wholly drawn from that Old Testament which even Christ treated with such marked reverence or at least deference, and from which he quoted so constantly and so effectively. Indeed, the language of the Inspired Word constituted largely his dialect. Here we have rather a new combination and arrangement of expressions, already found in the Scriptures, than a wholly and radically new form of prayer. While the structure is original and novel, blocks from the Old Testament quarries may be easily recognized in the material of the building. It may therefore be interesting and instructive to compare its phraseology with the language of the then existing Scriptures, and note how nearly every petition here found is drawn from some previously recorded prayer, and how the whole of this prayer runs in the mould of a Scripture dialect. Perhaps this is the main lesson this prayer was meant to teach us — so to familiarize ourselves with Holy Scripture, that when we pray we shall naturally frame our supplications in inspired language.

We have taken some pains to trace the expressions of this prayer to their apparent Scriptural source or origin.

“Our Father.” Isaiah lxiii. 16; lxiv. 8. “Who art in Heaven.” 2 Chronicles xx.

6; Psalm cxv. 3; Isaiah lvii. 15,

lxvi. I. “Hallowed be thy name.” Leviticus x.

3, xxii. 32; 2 Samuel vii. 26; i Kings viii. 43; I Chronicles xvii. 24; Nehemiah ix. 5; Psalm lxxii. 19, cxi. 9;

Isaiah vi. 3, xxix. 23, xxxvii. 20; Ezekiel xxxvi. 23, xxxviii. 23; Habakkuk

ii. 14; Zechariah xiv. 9; Malachi i. 11,

iv. 2. “Thy kingdom come.” Daniel ii. 44, vii.

13, 14, 27; Psalm ii. 6; Isaiah ii. 2-4,

ix. 6-7; Jeremiah xxiii. 5; Zechariah

ix. 9. “Thy will be done.” Psalm xl. 8; Ezra

vii. 18; Dan. iv. 35; Psalm cxliii. 10. “On earth as it is in Heaven.” Daniel

iv. 35; Nehemiah ix. 6; Psalm ciii.

19-22. “Give us this day our daily Bread.”

Proverbs xxx. 8; Exodus xvi. 16; Job

xxiii. 12; Psalm xxxiv. 10; Isaiah

xxxiii. 16; Ezra iii. 4. “And forgive us our debts.” Exodus

xxxiv. 7; I Kings viii. 30-50; Psalm

xxxii. I, ciii. 3-12, cxxx. 4; Daniel ix.

4-19; Jeremiah xxxi. 34, xxxvi. 3. “As we forgive our debtors.” Nehemiah

v. 12, 13; Genesis 1. 17; i Samrr

XXV. 28, 29.

“And lead us not into temptation.” Isaiah

iii. 12, ix. 16; Proverbs xvi. 29, viii.

20; Psalm cxxv. 5, xxvii. 11; Genesis

xxii. I; Deut. viii. 2, 16; Proverbs

XXX. 8. “But deliver us from evil.” i Chron. iv.

10; Psalm cxxi. 7, 8; Jeremiah xv. 21;

Psalm lvi. 13. “For Thine is the Kingdom,” i Chron.

xxix. 11; Psalm cxlv. 13; Dan. iv.

34, 35- “And the Power.” i Chron. xxix. 11. “And the glory.” i Chron. xxix. 11;

Daniel vii. 14. “For ever and ever.” Daniel vii. 18.

This prayer, which thus runs in the channel of Old Testament devoutness, is a model of brevity and comprehensiveness. It consists of,

1. An opening address in one short sentence: “Our Father who art in Heaven.”

2. Three petitions, having main reference to God, His name, His Kingdom, His will; all of which the prayer would have as universally revered, prevailing and controlling on Earth, as in Heaven.

3. Three, or possibly four, petitions, having main reference to man, the suppliant; that his daily needs may be met, his sins forgiven, his steps divinely guided, and his deliverance from all evil assured.

4. A final ascription to God, also threefold, corresponding to the threefold petition addressed to Him in the first part of the prayer, and conceding heartily to Him the Kingdom, the Power and the Glory, which by right perpetually and inalienably belong to Him.

In all there are but nine short sentences, embracing but six ty-five words in the English, and in the Greek but fifty-seven; yet embracing every department of prayer. To those who can examine this prayer in the original Greek, many new beauties of poetic structure, parallelism and diction, hidden from the English reader, will become apparent.*

Let us note also how comprehen- * For example, Trurep ^//wv 6 ev Toig ovpavoi^ etc. sive of all the elements that enter into prayer:

“Our Father who ).,

art in Heaven,” Adoration.

Hallowed be Thy

name.
Thy Kingdom

come,
Thy will be done,

etc.

Supplication for Give us this day our i man’s daily need

Supplication for
God’s highest
dues: worship and
obedience.
daily bread. ( in all temporal

J things.
Forgive us our) Supplication for

debts, etc. I man’s highest

And lead us, good in spiritual

And deliver us, J things. For thine is the ) Concluding ascrip-Kingdom, etc. j tion of worship.

There is a deeper lesson taught in this so-called ‘Lord’s Prayer ’ than any that is implied in the use of this as a prescribed form. Notice our Lord’s words: “After this manner.” A manner is a flexible mould or matrix, not a fixed and uniform cast, which is to be filled out in every particular with a cast-iron uniformity. Among the most prevailing prayers ever offered it may be doubted whether any two ever were precisely alike. Of all those recorded in the Word of God, no two have any verbal resemblance which is at all exact, and even the two records of the Lord’s Prayer which are given by Matthew and Luke show marked variations. Yet all inspired prayers have a certain conformity to one type, such as we see also amid all variations of species among fauna and flora in the natural world.

Does not our Lord mean to teach us that the highest model and mould for prayer is a scriptural one? Take, for instance, Jonah’s prayer in the belly of the great fish, as recorded in Scripture.* As we follow this utterance of deep yearning toward God, when the prophet’s soul fainted within him and he remembered the Lord, we find that the prayer is wholly * Jonah ii. composed of passages of Scripture.^ If carefully examined, and compared with other parts of the Old Testament, it will be found to be, not indeed a mere string of Scripture quotations or recitations, however appropriate, but a prayer which finds its expression in inspired language. Jonah was familiar with the book of the Law of the Lord, and was evidently wont to meditate therein. He had committed to his mind, if not to his memory, the words which the prophets before him had used in rebuking Israel; he remembered how Solomon prayed at the dedication of the temple; how Moses forewarned of the apostasies which led to the ruin of Jerusalem; how David and other sacred singers had called upon God in trouble and been delivered; and when out of the depths he cried unto the Lord, he naturally expressed his soul’s penitence and

*Comp. Psalms cxx. i, cxxx. i; Lam. iii. 55, 56; Ps. 1. 14, 23, lxix. i; Lam. iii. 54; Isa. xxxviii. 17; 2 Kings xvii. 15; Ps. xxxi. 22; i Kings viii. 38, 39; I Sam. xii. 21; Ps. xviii. 6; Ps. lxi. 2, xxxiv. 6, lxxxviii. 5-8; xlii. 7. petitions, in the language with which he was so familiar that his outpouring of soul naturally ran in these sacred channels. In a word, his prayer — unconsciously, it may be — took shape in a Scripture dialect, as in an inspired vernacular.

This is a suggestion which commends itself to a prayerful believer, not simply because it insures propriety and decorum in our approach to God, but for a reason even more important, namely, that a Scripture fori7i of expressio7i insures or at least promotes, a scriptural frame of mind.

“We know not what we should pray for as we ought.” There are three great lacks in prayer: The lack of proper words, of proper thoughts and desires, and of a proper spirit and motive. We are always in danger of asking what we are not warranted 17i askiig. “This is the confidence that we have in Him, that, if we ask anything according to His will, He heareth us; and, if we know that He hear us, whatsoever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we desired of Him.”* * I John V. 13, 14.

How are we to attain this confidence? How may we know that what we ask is according to His will, and therefore within the range and scope of His own promise? We have only to model our prayers according to the manner of Scripture. A request, intelligently moulded in Scripture terms and on the basis of Scripture promises, is assuredly according to His will, and may be boldly urged at the throne of grace. Other prayers may not be improper or unscriptural, but we are in doubt until we have scriptural authority and warrant: then we get confidence to approach, and constancy to wait until the answer comes.

There is a principle here which is of vital importance. Of nothing does it need more to be said than of prayer: “See that thou make all things according to the pattern shewed to thee in the mount.” * Much of our sacred song, if examined in the light of Scripture, would be found to contain many sentiments unspiritual, misleading, and mischievous. And many a * Hebrews viii. 5. prayer is offered in private, aye, and in public, which has no warrant in the Word of God, which is the outbreathing of a worldly, unsanctified spirit, and not of the Spirit of God, and cannot be offered boldly, because faith has no promise to lay hold of, as of the horns of the altar.

For example, how can any suppliant confidently ask for riches, when there is no assurance beyond our daily bread? But how safe is the prayer that follows the Scripture model: ‘’Give me neither poverty nor riches: feed me with food convenient for me.” * How can we safely ask in any case that our own will may be accomplished, our own schemes may succeed, our own hopes be carried to fruition, when we may be selfishly planning for our own advancement or emolument, or at best be working in the energy of the flesh? But how bold we wax when we can lay all our work and will at His feet, and honestly say, “Thy will be done.” The resort to a Scripture dialect acts as a constant corrective to carnality and selfishness and world- * Prov. XXX. 8. liness in prayer. The more we understand the teaching of Scripture, catch the meaning of its promises, penetrate beneath the letter to the spirit, and so enter into the mind of God, the more sure are we that our prayers are according to His will; and the more they will be according to His Word which is the expression of His will.

Let any supplicating soul make trial of this test, and prove every petition by its conformity to the Scripture: and thereby may be revealed the reason why there has been so little boldness. But when one can plant his foot upon a distinct assurance of Scripture, a “thus saith the Lord”; or when the prayer is only the offering of a desire, authorized by distinct Scripture teaching, any other attitude but boldness is due to unbelief; whereas the suppliant who asks for what God has promised to give, or taught us to seek and authorized us to claim, becomes so daring that, like Jeremiah, jealous that God should not seem to dishonor His own word, he pleads:

‘■’’Do not disgrace the throne of Thy Glory r’’’

In the lessons which immediately follow, as to the spirit of true prayer, the order is not always so obvious, or, perhaps, so important. But, for convenience and impressiveness of arrangement, we prefer to consider, first, three conditions of acceptable approach which specially concern the inward state of the suppliant; and then, in a subsequent chapter, four of the higher secrets of prevailing power which still concern the inward state of the praying man, but touch the deeper, higher mysteries of the great theme, and seem to form the natural apex and climax of these lessons.

The three conditions of acceptable approach have reference to Si forgiving, a believifig, and a persistifig spirit in pleading with God.

IV. Forgiveness is a necessity, in the nature of things.

We come to God in prayer, first of all,

* Jeremiah xiv. 21. to get forgiveness, for until that is gotten we can get nothing else, unless it be judgment. We are therefore taught that He can commune with us only from off and from over the mercy-seat.

In the gospel according to Matthew, the keynote is salvation: “Thou shalt call his name Jesus — Saviour — for he shall save his people from their sins.” And, in the forefront of that gospel of salvation,’ we meet the great forerunner, that “Voice,” whose stern message is, ^’’ Prepare ye the way of the Lord.” There is a preparation for blessing, and we ourselves must make ready for it. There are crookednesses in our life which we must straighten out and roughnesses which we must make smooth, if we would have the King come to us, not as Adversary, to deliver the offender to the Judge to be condemned, and from the Judge to the officer to be cast into prison; but as himself Deliverer from prison, from condemnation, and from judgment. That preparation of the way of the Lord is found in confessing and forsaking of sin:

SO shall we find mercy.* All unconfessed, unforsaken sin is a positive barrier between us and God.

We must therefore get our sins out of the way if we would approach unto God acceptably. That is our first need; and this can be done only by coming in penitence to the mercy-seat and presenting the Blood of Atonement, while, like the publican — who smote upon his breast, as though all sin were concentrated there, as in a stronghold of evil — we cry, “God, at the mercy-seat, meet me, the sinner!” f

But, in order to open the heart to the reception of mercy, the exercise of mercy is necessary. To recognize a visible object there must be an organ of vision — not only something to be seen, but something to see with. Only love can understand love; only truth in the soul can recognize truth in the revelation; and so no man can come truly to a throne of grace, and appeal for forgiveness, while cherishing an unforgiving and vindictive spirit

* Proverbs xxviii. T3; i John i. 9,

i 6 deog, iAaGdrjTL (lot rw af/,apT(jy?i(f), Luke xviii. 13. toward others. It takes grace to receive grace.

Imagine the high priest, venturing into the Holiest of All on the great Day of Atonement, bearing the blood of the slain victim as the warrant for his approach, and yet going into God’s Presence cherishing hatred and revenge toward some fellow-sinner because of some trespass against himself! It is a contradiction that cannot be imagined. Bearing the blood which was the very sign and pledge of an innocent life given for his forfeited life, yet at the same moment bearing in his heart the guilty spirit of retaliation, which would exact full penalty for every sin or trespass committed against himself! The supposition bears the stamp of absurdity. Men cannot think such contradictions!

Here is the force of Shakespeare’s delineation of Shylock. Shylock was a Jew, and so familiar from his birth with the idea of atonement, “Mercy rejoiceth against judgment” is written large over the whole levitical system of sacrifice.

Above all ether men, the Jew should be the last to exact penalty, and refuse media-. tion. Yet Shylock rejects all ransom and will have his pound of flesh. The myriadminded dramatist makes the character of the exorbitant and merciless usurer all the more hideous, because he who was so early taught to pray for mercy, knew nothing of rendering the deeds of mercy. And so our Lord, in that parable of the two debtors,* shows us the impossibility of receiving, if we do not impart, forgiveness. Even the formal declaration of forgiveness which followed the confession of debt and bankruptcy, was cancelled and revoked, when he, who had been forgiven the immense debt of ten thousand talents, took by the throat his fellow-servant who owed him one hundred pence, and mercilessly cast him into prison despite his entreaties! The greater debtor had been utterly bankrupt and yet had found compassion and release; but he would not exercise like compassion toward one whose debt was so small * Matt, xviii. 21-35. that payment would follow patience. In him there was neither the grace of pity nor of patience: and he who after forgiveness was too hard-hearted to forgive, showed himself incapable of really receiving or even recognizing forgiveness. His last deed of cruelty toward a fellow-servant involved another deed of outrage toward their common master, and he who had been pronounced forgiven was now hopelessly delivered to the tormentors.

V. The next lesson is one on believing: “Have faith in God.”

This is a deeper lesson than any superficial glance can read. We are taught that ‘’he that cometh to God must believe that He is and is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.” But a careful search into our Lord’s words, in this fifth lesson, reveals mysteries which like those of his parables evade the careless eye.

Comparing the passages in Matthew, Mark, and Luke,* we find that, while all

* Matthew xvii. 20, 21, Mark xi. 22-24; Luke xvii. 5, 6. of them are essentially lessons on faith, they have both marked resemblances and differences. Both Matthew and Luke compare the principle of faith to “a grain of mustard-seed,” but the application of faith is in one case to the removal of “this mountain,” and in the other case to the withering of the fig-tree and the plucking up of the sycamine-tree. As such similarities or dissimilarities cannot be without design, let us, if we would pierce to the secret chamber of this teaching, examine closely.

Obviously there can be no access, or even approach, to God, in the holiest place, without the believing spirit. The Presence that fills the secret place is not a presence revealed to the bodily eye. Faith is the soul’s organ of vision, hearing, feeling, whereby we behold, hear and ‘handle’ God. Hence the reality and power of all communion with Him must hang on this: how far His own word of promise is believed. To come into the closet, believing He is there, and ready to impart Himself to the suppliant,

SCHOOL OF PRAYER. q;7

is to get answer before we call and find Him hearing while yet we are speaking. Our Lord therefore says, “Have faith in God” — literally, Have the faith of God. So essential to prevailing, effective supplication is this element, that it is fundamental — as though God had sai< ‘Between you and Me there can be no contact or communication, until you believe in Me, My existence, My readiness to reward your diligent seeking.’ If the basis of all friendship among men is mutual trustconfidence in one another, so that I may properly say to a professed friend, if you cannot believe me and believe in me, there can be no communion between us,’ how can we expect any friendly relations with God so long as we deny or doubt His existence, or question or impugn His word of assurance? The lesson taught by our Lord on faith in prayer takes this primitive principle or law for granted and builds upon it. But his teaching advances far beyond this self-evident truth. His comparison of faith to “a grain of mustard-seed” must not be dismissed as though it had reference only to the littleness of our faith. He does not set a premium on littleness. He commended the poor widow who cast in her two mites into the treasury, but not because they were mites but because they were her all. The mustard-seed is small, but it is the hiding of God’s power. It represents the omnipotence of Life. The mountain is but a mass of dead inert matter. It cannot, with all its massiveness, move itself, for it does not represent any power but that of resistance. All force or energy is vital — it is linked with life. The mustard-seed, though it be least of seeds sown in the soil, represents the principle of life, and therefore of growth, expansion, reproduction. Let the little mustard-seed drop into the crevices of the rock and it can split the solid mass and heave it from its bed, by simple growth.

Faith is mighty, not because it is small, but because it is the hiding of God’s power. It is the seed of God — having in it God’s life, and where it lodges there is growth, motion, expansion, reproduction: so far as it is genuine and Godlike — the faith of God — it exercises the Power of God and is irresistible.

We notice however a marked dissimilarity in the application of faith. Why is it one case the mountain and in the other the sycamine-tree?

The mountain suggests a massive obstacle — something to be surmounted with difficulty, to be removed with still greater difficulty, but which lies in the way of advance. The sycamine-tree may be comparatively small, but is peculiar for its deep and fast-clinging roots, that take hold on the soil and defy uprooting — and this naturally suggests inward difficulties, as the mountain does outward obstacles. Faith is equal to both.

A careful examination of the context of each passage may suggest a true exegesis. It is Matthew who makes Christ refer to the mountain — and it is he who suggests the outward hindrance. Christ had just come down from the mountain where he had been transfigured, and he

52593 met a man whose son was possessed of a demon whom the disciples had proved unable to cast out. The Devil was heaping mountain upon mountain to obstruct the progress of the kingdom; and because of their unbelief they could neither surmount nor remove these mountains, and they had to fall back on the power of Christ. Once more He teaches them that all depends on their faith. Unbelief makes them powerless; faith, irresistible.

On the other hand, in Luke, we meet the sycamine-tree, which however small has a tenacious hold upon the earth, suggesting not so much a formidable obstacle to advance, as a deep-rooted inward sin, habit, lust or passion — a disposition ineradicable by unaided human power and self-will, and needing divine transforming energy. Our common language embodies this thought when we speak of “deeply-rooted habits and customs,” and of prejudices and passions, “hard to eradicate,” etc.

This seems to be the exact thought of the Lord himself in the passage cited from Luke. Examining the context we find Christ teaching a lesson on forgiveness, that it should be so long-suffering in patience and so habitual in exercise that if, in one day, an offence should be seven times repeated and seven times repented of, our forgiveness toward the offender must survive such a trial, and our gracious temper be unwearied in its forbearance. Nay, not until seven times, but until seventy times seven, must such repetition of forgiving love be equal. And it was in view of such prospective demand on love’s magnanimity that, as with one voice, the apostles exclaimed, “Lord, increase our faith!” as though only such increase of faith could make possible such rich outlays of forbearing compassion and undiscouraged hope. Such demands are daily made, or at least liable to be made, upon the working machinery of our daily life in contact with our fellow-men, that nothing short of closer fellowship with God can supply adequate motive power to keep that machinery running; or, as the beloved Arnot used to say, when the pebble gets between the millstones, the miller lets in more head of water, to grind it to powder.

That, however, which is most marked in this lesson on Faith is the Authority conceded to faith and with which faith is clothed.

In this the three evangelists agree. Matthew’s record reads: “If ye have faith, ye shall say to this mountain. Remove HENCE to yonder place, and it shall remove.” Mark says: “Whosoever shall say unto this mountain. Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea; and shall not doubt .... he shall have whatsoever he saith.” Luke says: “If ye had faith .... ye might say unto this sycamine-tree, Be thou plucked up, and be thou planted in the sea, and it should obey you.”

The coincidence is too remarkable to be either accidental or unimportant. In all these cases it is not “pray” but “say,” not the word of petition but of direction, not as of a suppliant but as of a sovereign.

This we regard as the central, vital heart of this great lesson on Faith. The Master of all girds the servant with His own power and intrusts him with authority to command. Faith claims not only blessing but power to bless. This lesson is at first sight so astounding as to seem incredible — it passes all understanding, and faith itself staggers at such promises.

Let us reverently seek to take in the marvelous thought. Faith in God so unites to God that it passes beyond the privilege of asking to the power of com??ianding. This language of Christ is not that of a request, however bold, but of a Fiat. God said, “Be Light! and Light was!” * Such is the sublime announcement in Genesis. And He says to His disciples,

“Concerning the work of My hands,

Co7?imand ye Me .^” f And so — marvelous fact! the child of * Gen. i. 3 (Hebrew). f Isaiah xlv. 11.

God, laying hold by faith of the Power of the Omnipotent One, issues his fiat: “Be thou removed!” “Be thou plucked up by the roots!” and it is so.

Can we find any illustration or interpretation of this philosophy of prayer in the Economy of Nature? In the universe of matter there are so-called ‘Universal Forces,’ such as Light and Heat, Gravity and Chemical Affinity, Attraction and Repulsion, Adhesion and Cohesion, Magnetism and Electricity. They all work within certain well-defined lines and limits which are called “Laws,” or ’ modes of operation.’ Man has only to understand and conform to those laws or conditions, and act in accordance with these * modes of Force ’ or Energy, and he may actually command them to do his bidding. We are only beginning after the lapse of sixty centuries to understand the grandeur of those words, Let them have dovmiiony *

Omnipotent as are the powers of nature, this is still true:

* Gen. i. 26.

Obey the law of the power,

AND the power OBEYS YOU.

To apply this principle is to see this truth. Obey the laws of Light, and Light becomes your Artist, delineating with matchless accuracy and beauty every line and lineament of a beloved face or natural landscape. Obey the laws of Heat, and it becomes your Great Assayer, refining and purifying your metals; your giant Manufacturer, making them ready to receive any impression or take any shape at your will. Obey the laws of Gravity, and it comes at your summons with Titanic hammer to beat the rocks to powder, pound the slag out of huge lumps of iron, and like a Master Mechanic mould the most stubborn material for useful ends. We obey likewise the laws of Magnetism, and it becomes our Pilot to guide our vessels upon unknown seas, or a valuable Therapeutic to restore health to diseased frames. We obey the laws of Electricity, and it becomes our Messenger, Motor, Illuminator, all at once!

In the Spiritual Realm there is one allsubduing, all-controlling Force, Power or Energy: The Holy Spirit of God. It is not too much to say that God gives His Holy Spirit “to them that obey Him “; * and that we have only to regard and observe those laws and limits within which the Spirit acts, and we find even His blessed power placed at our disposal: in other words, it is still divinely true: Obey the Law of the Power and the Power obeys you.

Conform to the Laws and modes of the Spirit’s operations, and in the work of God’s hands you may command the Spirit’s Power. It was a glimpse of this truth that led Coleridge to write the famous couplet:

“Faith is an affirmation and an act, That bids eternal truth be fact.”

To which we venture to add, in expansion of the divine thought:

* Acts V. 32.

Faith issues its sublime decree, Its holy fiat: Let it be! Commands the deeply-rooted tree, Be plucked up! planted in the sea! Or bids the mountain to depart, Believing, doubting not in heart. That what Faith willeth shall be done. Because Faith’s will with God’s is one. By mystic union with His Son. Concerning work of God’s own hand, He bids us His own power command. And so prayer asks not, but decrees, Knows no impossibilities.

VI. In this group of lessons, one remains, which indicates another condition of prevailing prayer, and acceptable approach to God, vidiV^^Xy, persistence in pleadings or as our Lord phrases it,” Men ought always to pray and not to faint!’

This lesson of importunity is taught under the striking imagery of a double parable: ‘The Unjust Judge,’ and the ‘Friend in Need.’

The former is a parable of contrasts. The widow had no advocate to plead her cause: her husband, who was her natural protector and defender, being dead, she had no man to appear in court in her behalf, and so was compelled to present herself and urge her own plea. The judge was a man who had neither piety nor philanthropy: “he feared not God nor regarded man”; hence there was no moral or religious principle in him to appeal to, not even human affection and humane sympathy. To him the widow was a mere beggar, suing for a favor: to her person and to her plea he was alike indifferent, and like Gallio “cared for none of these things” which on principles of essential justice and humanity should move any judge to action. Yet, as a beggar and because she was a beggar, he wished to be rid of her, and there was only one way: to do as she wanted. She would not be silenced. Matters could not be settled, till they were settled right. His selfishness was the only tender point m his character — and that she touched, and it responded. He granted her request because in no Other way he could silence her or dismiss her.

At every point a contrast is either expressed or implied. The Infinitely Just Judge, the Infinitely Good God — who has an eternal regard for inherent righteousness and rectitude, and an infinite love for mankind, together with a holy indignation against all injustice and oppression, robbery of the poor and unfairness of dealing toward the helpless and friendless — is contrasted with this human judge. God’s unspeakable love toward His own elect, and divine jealousy for their vindication, are in contrast to the indifference and utter selfishness of this earthly magistrate toward this widow. The presence of the Great Advocate at Court — Jesus Christ, the Righteous, God’s own Beloved Son, and the Last Adam, our Brother in the flesh — is in contrast to the absence of any friend or defender to espouse her cause and conduct her suit.

Moreover the argument is cumulative. For, if the widow prevailed over

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such indifference simply by her impor. tunity, and thus, without any advocate, wrested justice from such a judge, when there was left only abominable selfishness of the lowest sort to appeal to — how much more shall the believer prevail, when he meets, in the Celestial Court, Everlasting Love as well as Infinite Equity, seated on the Bench of Judgment, and when he has an all-powerful Advocate, and also finds arrayed in advance on his own side all the perfections of the Godhead in the person of the Judge!

The other part of this twin parable teaches the same general lesson in a form perhaps even more impressive. The neighbor, to whom the appeal for the three loaves is addressed, is a friend, and can as such be appealed to; but he also is selfish, though neither destitute of philanthropy nor of humanity. He is in bed with his children: it is midnight, and perhaps damp and chilly as well as dark. He would gladly be rid of the necessity of getting up, striking a light, and finding the three loaves whose loan is asked by the other. He, like the unjust judge, finally yields to the demand of his neighbor, but in supplying the need he is not primarily moved by either friendship or sympathy; but, because he wants to be let alone and to have the quiet of his rest and sleep unbroken, he rises and gives the suppliant as many as he needeth. Selfishness dictates regard for his comfort, and comfort there can be none, while that knocking and calling goes on at the gate!

How simple and forcible the lesson, and how convincing the indirect argument! How much more will your Heavenly Father give bread, as much as is needed, when they are His own needy children who stand knocking at His gate; and when Paternal Love, unselfish and self-sacrificing and self-forgetting, rules absolutely in His heart! Nay, when it is His own unchanging Word of Promise, His challenge to “ask,” “seek,” “knock,” which brings us as suppliants to our Father’s House where there is enough and to spare; and on the very gate of which is written, “Knock and it shall be opened unto you!”

Thus, in both forms of parable, one great lesson appears, garmented in a slightly different attire: Faint not, but continue in prayer. If the vision tarry wait for it, as the High Priest, entering the Holiest of All, in the prescribed way, if he had there found no Shekinah fire burning, and had neither beheld any divine vision nor heard any divine voice responding, would have had but one course to pursue — to wait until the cloud of glory filled the House, and the divine communication was given.

In the gospel according to Luke,* the verses which follow this latter parable have a connection that is vital and essential. There is every mark of inte7itional continuity. ‘■’’And I say unto you, ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” Notice the “and’* which so closely links what follows with *Luke xi. 9-13. what precedes as to forbid any pause in the discourse; and note also the advance in thought: ^’Ask’’ — the formal request; ‘•’•Seek’’ — the inward and intense quest of what is asked; ^’’ Knock” — the repeated and unwearied asking and seeking, for whoever knocks but once?

There is possibly a hint in this second parable as to requests offered foi’ others, as in the former the widow was asking somewhat for herself. What a lesson on missions is here taught us. It is the * midnight ’ hour with the vast multitudes of our race, and their needs come to us with the appeal of an awful destitution, like messengers from afar appealing for hospitality. We have not the means to meet the emergency and supply the spiritual destitution of the thousand millions of the race. But God is nigh, and He has abundance. He can thrust laborers forth into the harvest field, and move His own saints to pour out their treaures to maintain the workmen and the work. Above all, He can bestow the Holy Spirit in answer to prayer, and that means

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Bread of Life to famishing peoples. O for the importunity of Faith to ask with boldness, undiscouraged perseverance, and confident assurance!

The history of believers gloriously illustrates the power of importunity in prayer. We select one.

George Gillespie, of Edinburgh, will be remembered as the devout and gifted man who, being requested, by the moderator of the famous ‘Westminster Assembly,’ to ask special aid as to the definition of God in the Catechism which the Westminster divines were preparing, began his prayer as follows:

“O God, who art a Spirit, infinite, eternal and unchangeable in thy Being, Power, Wisdom, Holiness, Justice, Goodness and Truth —” And that opening sentence was at once adopted as an inspired answer to the question, “What is God?”

This same Gillespie, when, afterward, the nature and constitution of the Christian church came up for consideration, rendered another service scarce less distinguished. Great anxiety was felt on account of John Selden, leader of the Erastian party, and the most learned man in England, especially rich in Rabbinical lore, and a master of the arts of logic and rhetoric. His argument was so sophistical and yet apparently unanswerable, that when he concluded the cause seemed lost. But Gillespie calmly arose, took up Selden’s Erastian positions, and exposing their fallacy and sophistry, tore his argument to shreds.

On the fragment of paper whereon he had apparently been making notes, was found a short prayer in Latin, written again and again from top to bottom of the page: ‘’^Da lucem, Domine! ‘* ( Give light, O Lord!”). While the master sophist had been weaving the web of his argument, Gillespie had been knocking importunately at Heaven’s gate for power to see and expose its false reasoning.