The "Thanks" Knot on the End

How Can You?

THE knot on the end is the finishing touch. It is the climax. It gathers up all that has gone before. It holds together, and holds in place, all that has been done.

The thread makes pieces of cloth into a garment. The knot on the end holds the garment in place. It makes sure all the thread has done, and is doing. The knot is the thread at its peak. It’s the thread at its best. The knot is the thread holding steady all it has done.

Now, the ‘‘Thanks’’ is the knot on the end of prayer. The common thread must be knotted. The prayer thread must be knotted. ‘*Thanks’’ is the knot.

That word ‘‘Thank’’ comes of an old family. It is one of the fine old Low-Dutch families of Europe. Its lineage runs back through Old English, Old Saxon, Old Friesic, Icelandic, Swedish, Danish, and Gothic.

As you dig up the old family record, you find that ‘‘thank’’ has an unusually fine father. It is an own child of ‘‘think.’? The thinking has changed that ‘‘i’’ into an ‘‘a.’? And so thinking becomes thanking. Thinking things through has started the music in the major key.

Now, ‘‘thanks’’ is the true knot on the end of prayer. I mean a prayer that is fully prayed through. For ‘‘thanks’’ is the ringing note of assurance. You thank a person for something you have actually gotten from him, or are quite sure of getting.

There’s a ving in that word ‘‘thanks.’’ It is the ring of victory, victory already achieved, or as good as achieved.

It means that you think things through, bit by bit, link after link, and the outcome is so assured that instinctively, involuntarily, you burst out into a song, a song of victory, of thanksgiving, for a thing settled. For thanksgiving and singing go together. When you are sure of the good outcome of some sore problem you involuntarily start singing.

So, ending your prayer up with a song of thanksgiving means that you have been thinking things through, all the things involved in what you are praying about.

Please note carefully that this does not mean that you force yourself to some phrase of thanks or praise when your heart is not in it, when the assurance is lacking. Of all things, not that. Though some earnest godly people do just that. But that is really not good sense.

But how can one give thanks, when the actual facts are all the other way? It is some very grave problem you are carrying, perhaps, involving human lives, and maybe human wills deadset the wrong way. How can you?

Well, there’s an answer to that question. And it is an answer that really answers. It has already been spoken of. Itisthis: Think; think things clear through. Think through all the things that are involved.

Two Kinds of Prayer.

It helps here to remember that there are two kinds of prayer, quite distinct, each from the other. There is the prayer of submission, and there is the prayer of assurance. And the two are entirely distinct.

The prayer of submission means, when you are not clear as to just what God’s will is, in the particular matter concerned.

Then you yield your will to his will, without being clear what his will, in this particular matter, is. And the immediate result for you is peace, peace within, while you are waiting for the outcome.

The great passage for this is in Paul’s prison psalm.” Paul says in effect: Do not worry about the problem harrying your life so sorely. Pour out your heart’s longings freely and fully.

And while the matter is still unsettled your heart can be at peace, and will be. The peace, that can’t be explained by any mental process, will act as a garrison of armed soldiers, keeping worry out at the sword’s point.

The prayer of assurance knows, actually knows, what God’s will in this particular matter is. The outstanding passage for this is at the end of that great First Epistle of John?

A simple paraphrase makes John’s meaning a bit clearer. ‘‘This is the boldness, the absolute confidence, we have toward him, that as we ask anything according to his will, he takes account of our prayer as fitting into his own purpose.

*Philippians 4: 6-7. *T John 5: 14-15.

‘¢ And, when we know that, that he so accepts our prayer as working out his own plan or will in this particular matter, we know with positive assurance that we have the petitions we have asked of him.’’

John’s whole supposition here is that we have actually found out what his will is in the thing concerned. John means that we have quietly waited on God, over his Word, thinking, brooding, meditating quietly, until his will is now quite clear, regarding the matter in hand.

It can be said that there are two phases of God’s will for us. There is his will regarding our soul’s salvation. And there is his will regarding the present every-day plans and affairs of our daily lives down here.

His will for our soul’s salvation is quite clear. It is that every one shall be saved.* The man who is lost is lost against God’s will, and must climb wilfully over the person of the Son of God to get into the lost world.

God’s will for our lives, in all their plans, will be revealed to each one as we surrender to his mastery, and brood quietly over his Word.

His Holy Spirit will lead us to know unmistakably, in our inner spirit, what his will is, for each of us, in whole and in detail.’

Just now, take a single illustration of this. It will be regarding a matter that touches one’s heart very intimately and tenderly. It is about the conversion of our loved ones.

1TI Peter 3:9. I Timothy 2:4. Lit al. 2Pgalm 25:9, ‘¢The yielded man he will guide in his mental processes, ’’ — paraphrase.

Can we be absolutely sure of what his will is regarding this? The answer is yes, absolutely, unquestionably, sure. The bits of the Book quoted just now make that quite clear.

And so, when you are praying for the voluntary turning to the Saviour of some loved one of yours, now deadset the other way, you know you are praying for something that is God’s will.

His own will in that matter is clear beyond any doubt. There will be more said about this in our talk about God’s will in prayer.

Just now the thing to note carefully is that the prayer of positive assurance can be made, intelligently, for your loved one.

Get the Other Side.

But let us go back to that question asked a moment ago: How can you give thanks when everything points against you?

There’s a further answer to that question. It is this: Think; think into all the facts in the matter. On one side are the facts against you, the difficulties that seem insurmountable. Think them through. Don’t try to make them any fewer, or smaller, than they actually are. We’re not apt to. And we shouldn’t.

Now, think again. Think this time into things on the other side. There are at least three things to think about on the other side. And these three things can turn ‘‘think’? into “‘thank,”?

First of all there’s Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Put him in on the seales on the other side. Count him in. Then weigh him in. He counts just one, so far as arithmetic is concerned.

He weighs — Ah! No scale known to us humans can figure out what he weighs. And this is a matter of weighing, not counting, tipping the scales down on the weightier side.

Jesus is very God of very God. He is very man of very man. Helivedasinless life. That, humanly, is the basis of what follows. He was Victor over the Evil One, in his life.

He died voluntarily for us men and for our sins. He died as no other man did, or could, or can. His death means just what he meant it to mean, for it was wholly voluntary. He was Victor over the Evil One in his death.

He left Joseph’s new-hewn tomb empty, clear sheer empty, that Third Morning After. He had no use for tombs after that one had served his purpose. He was Victor over the Evil One, the prince of death, in scorning that grave after its purpose was served. It is a threefold victory.

He is sitting now at the Father’s right hand, in the place of power, full, absolute power. The Holy Spirit in you, as you pray, is the Spirit of that victorious, all powerful, enthroned Jesus.

He sits on the edge of his seat, in his eagerness, bending over, to work out the thing his Holy Spirit is putting into your heart to pray for,

That’s item one, on the other side of your scale, as you think things through. Put Jesus in the scale, both for count and for weight.

This threefold Victor both counts and weighs. Aye, he clean outweighs all on the other side of the scales. Put him in, in your thinking, as big and weighty as he is. This is item one.

1John 14:13 (emphasis on the middle clause), 14.

Then, humbly, modestly, quietly, put yourself in. Yes, your own self; not because you’re good or saintly or have faith, though we’ll hope this is all true enough. But because you are saved by the blood of the Lord Jesus, and the purpose of your heart is to please him.

This is item two, some one down on the earth, the battlefield, in touch of heart with the Victor on the throne, yourself. If you are inclined, in humility of spirit, not to stress this, remember Jesus does.

He counts much on the one down on the earth in touch of heart with himself. It is through just such that he works out his plans down here. Reckon in item two, in your thinking, because Jesus does.

Then there’s item three: that’s your prayer, your actually claiming the victory of the Victor, in this personal life, or this problem, laid on your heart. The prayer is the actual working of the partnership, between the Victor on the throne and the man down on the battlefield.

And every prayer is a fresh touching of the spirit electric-button, that loosens out the power of the resistless spirit current, on the life, or spot concerned.

These are the three things that, as you think things through, you put into the scales on the other side, Jesus, the blood-saved man in touch, of heart with Jesus, and the actual prayer.

The Thin Line of Light.

Do you remember that word our blessed Lord spoke to the inner circle that last week? They were marvelling at the remarkable rapidity with which Jesus’ power worked in a particular instance.

And our Lord quietly said to them, ‘‘ Have faith in God.’’* Which is the emphatic word in that little four-worded sentence? Is it ‘‘faith’’? or ‘‘God’’?

Clearly not ‘‘faith,’’ but ‘‘God’’; not something in us, essential as that is; something outside of us, aye, some One above us, and in us — God. The faith is simply the link between him and us. The link is essential. It connects us with the power — God.

‘‘Have faith in God,’’ our Lord says. Don’t look in; look up. Don’t think about yourself; think about him. Look up to our Lord Jesus. There he is, sitting in the place of absolute power, the Man who died for us, now in the Victor’s seat, all absorbed with things down here.

Have you any doubt about him? His power? His love? This is faith — looking at him, thinking about him, overwhelmed with his love and power. Let Jesus in, as big as he actually is, as you think things through.

The look at him will change the vowel in the word. Instead of ‘‘ think’’ it now becomes ‘‘thank.’?? ‘You still think. You never quit thinking. And your thinking leads to thanking.

But it’s not a mere, perfunctory, polite, ‘‘thank you.’’ It’s a bubbling over, a Hallelujah Chorus of thanks. ‘‘Hallelujah! Hallelujah! For the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth.’’

1 Mark 11:22.

May I ask you a direct personal question? Have you ever had a prayer answered? Once? Just once? For, you remember, one fact establishes a law of action, whether in the world of philosophy, or science, or here.

Well, let that one answer, that solitary item of experience, talk to you just now. Suppose you are sitting in a dark room, quite dark.

Let some one open a shutter or a door a erack, just the barest thinnest crack. Instantly a thin line of light penetrates the darkness, maybe making the darkness seem yet darker by contrast.

Instantly you know two things. There’s a light in the room. You experience that. But that’s the smaller of the two things you know. There’s the other, the inferential thing. You know by inference that there’s a whole sun of light just outside, flooding half the earth.

Here are two sorts of knowledge, the direct knowledge of experience which can never be contradicted. ‘There’s the indirect knowledge of eee inference from the experience you’ve

ad.

And the great bulk of all practical knowledge is this indirect, inferential knowledge. The fact that the activities of our common every-day life are based almost wholly on inferential knowledge, reveals how intensely practical it is.

Let that thin line of light talk to you just now. That one specific answer to prayer which you recall, that’s the thin line of light. It tells

you of a whole sun of light flooding your outer world.

Aye, reverently, it tells of the Son of Light, the Light of the world, flooding things for you just the other side of the shutters of to-day.

One single simple answer to prayer, in your experience, is enough to strike the keynote of a symphony of thanks, because of what is just ahead, just the other side of the doorway of to-day, awaiting you.

David’s Thanks Knot.

It is most striking to note what an exceptionally large place praise and thanks to God had in the old Hebrew life, and national worship.

The two outstanding men in organizing the Hebrew nation were Moses and David. Both of these organized the nation’s service of worship. And both made thanksgiving and praise a large, indeed an overshadowing, part of the national ritual.

Moses was distinctively a man of prayer. He is one of the most versatile characters of any nation in history. He is still commonly recognized as the race’s greatest lawgiver and jurist. He was an outstanding orator, a rarely gifted poet, the organizer of the most peculiarly remarkable nation history knows, and an incomparable strategist and general.

He himself declared constantly that everything he did, in these remarkably diversified activities, was the direct outcome of his personal touch with God, that is, his prayer life.

And, thanks to God, praise, loom surprisingly big in his planning of the national service of worship. The resistless conclusion is that this grew out of his own personal habit. With him thanks played a large part in his praying, pretty clearly.

The remarkable series of yearly feasts, or festivals, had a large part in the unifying of the Hebrew nation, in making the remarkable spirit of national and racial consciousness, which persists among them to this day. And song, and praise in song, had a large place in these great national festivals.

Moses himself was quite likely a skilled musician, for he personally wrote the songs of the people, and instructed them in their choral work.

There is the outbursting song of praise, over the Red Sea deliverance, with his sister Miriam leading the women in the antiphonal singing.” There is the historical song of praise he taught the nation to sing at the close of his career.’

In addition to these, there’s a most remarkable group of psalms from Moses’ pen, which David included in his temple psalm book. For the old orthodox scholarly Hebrew rabbis taught that the group of psalms, Ninety to One Hundred inclusive, were from Moses’ pen, as indicated by the inscription at the beginning of the group.

And it becomes of tensest interest to go through these eleven psalms afresh, and note that they are almost wholly praise, a jubilant joyous thanksgiving.

It was David, ‘‘the sweet psalmist of Israel,’’

1 Exodus 15: 1-21.

*Deuteronomy 31:19, 22. 32: 1-45.

who, not only planned the Solomon temple, and gathered the materials for it, but studiously worked out the whole remarkable service of song and praise, that made the Hebrew temple ritual so notable.

And David’s Psalm Book, added to doubtless by later inspired pens, was really a prayer book. The historical communions, that magnify prepared prayers with their graceful rare diction, have a classical model in David’s prayer book. Indeed all Christendom, of every name and creed, have a common prayer book here.

For David’s psalms are largely prayers. And a big part, if not the biggest part, is praise and thanksgiving. Run through afresh and see. David’s Psalm Book is a prayer book, and his prayer book is mostly a praise book.

Notice three items here. Over one-third of all these psalms is devoted to praise. Then, there’s a strain of thanks running throughout. And it makes one’s heart beat a bit quicker, just now, to notice David’s ‘‘Knot’’ of thanks on the end of so many of these prayer psalms.

Note especially those heart-stirring fugitive psalms, when David was hunted like a wild beast among those Judean hills and ravines and gullies. Most of them are the broken sobs of a man in deepest distress and anguish.

Yet the ‘‘Knot’’ of thanks persists at the end of them in a most striking way. And the outcome in his life’s story fully justifies all his prophetic faith through those dark days, that seemed all nights.”

1 Note for illustration, Psalms 3, 52, 54, 56, 57, 59.

Could there be found a more striking instance of praise in advance than that dramatie story of three nations, combining all their forces against the southern kingdom, in Jehoshaphat’s reign?:

The king’s prayer, in the midst of the assembled thousands, finds a quick answer through one of the national song leaders and musicians. As the three combined enemy armies massed for their supreme attack, the whole Israel nation, led by the singing clans, burst into a great chorus of praise and thanksgiving.

They sang praise at the beginning of the battle for the victory that was coming. But the battle was never fought. The enemy fell to fighting among themselves, until all were slain.

Paul’s Thanks Knot.

The ‘‘Thanks’’ knot on the end has no more dramatic and intense illustration than the Philippian earthquake story. Paul’s prison psalm,’ fitted into Luke’s recital in the Acts,” rounds the story out.

Two loud sounds fill the air in Philippians, the clanking of chains and the sound of music. But at the close the music first drowns out the clanking, and then makes it quit entirely.

There’s a prison at each end of that little fourchaptered epistle. At the Philippi end Paul is in prison. He is in an inner lower dungeon, in the dark, and his feet fast in the locked stocks.

And I suppose the small inhabitants of the cell, too numerous for the census-takers, were

1JI Chronicles 20: 1-30.? Philippians. * Acts 16: 19-34.

examining this newcomer, not to his personal comfort, to put it mildly. That’s one end. The chains are clanking loud.

At the other end, Paul is in his own hired house in Rome. And that has a free good sound. But if he stretches one knee over the other to change his position a bit, there’s a link of steel tugging at his ankle.

And as he reaches for the stylus, to put his autograph at the end, a bit of cold blue steel tugs at his wrist. For he is chained to a Roman soldier guard. Again the clanking of the chains grates on one’s ears.

But, in gracious sharp contrast to that, have you noticed the keynote of the little letter? Is it patience? What an appropriate keynote that would seem.

Is it long-suffering? How fitting that would seem. Some of us know something about shortsuffering, but not many of us know much about long-suffering, (though it always seems long enough, always too long).

But the keynote of Philippians is a jubilant chorus. It is some variation of joy, rejoice, rejoicing, ‘‘your joy (bubbling over) full.’’

The rugged little giant, in the cell, and in chains at Rome, he’s singing. His cell is made into a symphony concert chamber, and that hired house, too. And it is anticipative music. Paul is dealing in futures, near futures. And the music turns futures into present-day realities.

His faithful physician friend gives a graphic, pathetic, touch to the prison scene. It’s midnight. Paul can’t sleep, for the pain of the flogging is still cutting its cruel way into his back, and into his nerves all over.

So he sings. He sings praises. His harp is not hung on the exiles’ willows.” It is tuned in a major key. It’s a joyous, jubilant, singing that lifts and lightens the night air of the dank dungeon. This is surely very striking.

And we actually know what he sang. It was the music of a name, the Name — Jesus. For the name, Jesus, is a music word. That is strictly its philological meaning.

Dig into the name a little. You needn’t go far. The meaning is near the surface. ‘‘Jesus’’ is the shape in English of the old Hebrew word for victory.

The old word runs through a sliding scale, yeshuah, yesua, jesua, Jesus, that is salvation or victory. The Hebrew word for salvation is used in the English repeatedly in the material sense, because of victory in battle.

And victory itself is a picture word. It pictures a battle, with tense fighting, and now the battle won. The enemy is on the swift run of the defeated.

And victory always means the flag flying high in the breeze, and the bands playing, the air full of exultantly wild singing. This is what Paul is singing in that inner dark Philippian cell — Jesus! Victory!! Glory to Jesus!!!

But how could he? Is he screwing his courage to the sticking point, singing loudly to keep his

1Psalm 137: 2.

courage up? No, no, it’s the outer ring of the song welling up within.

And again one says, how could he? At midnight, with a bleeding back, and nerves erying out, and the small insect population busy at their inspection work, everything imaginable to depress, how could he?

And the answer is so simple as to make one smile. And yet we miss it so much. The answer is found in Paul’s own words, ‘‘ While we look not (not, simply) at the things that are seen,’’* at the One who, not having seen with these outer eyes, we still do see with the eyes of the spirit.

It’s wholly a matter of perspective. Paul feels the ache in his nerves, and the stocks binding his feet, and all that, down to the last sharpened detail.

But he knows more. He sees more. He feels more. And that ‘‘more’’ changes the whole perspective. The ‘‘more’’ becomes most. He sees Jesus, Jesus, JESUS the Victor.

He looks up, through the dark of the dungeon, through the upper blue, and there he sees a throne, a seat of masterful control. He sees a Man on the throne, the Man, the God-man.

He sees that Man intently watching the conflict, keeping most careful watch of every bit of the spirit battle, being waged on the battlefield down here. This explains that midnight symphony concert of joyous praise in the darkness of that dungeon.

It explains something else, too, something

1TI Corinthians 4:18.

more. Something happened. The music of Jesus’ Name is bad for prison walls. The very earth shook indignantly, at the sufferings of the prison group. The masonry gave way. And, amid the débris of broken walls and scattered mortar, Paul had a Gospel service, with an eager audience.

And some one’s else bonds, spirit bonds, were broken, and the joyous chorus had new recruits. The ‘‘Thanks’’ knot on the end had full sweep that time, and it brought startling results.

Our Lord’s Thanks Knot.

Do you suppose that possibly Paul’s spirit eyes, and his spirit ears, saw and heard something else, too, besides seeing that Man on the throne?

Did he see what the Chebar exile saw, the countless throngs up round about that throne, singing their praises of that enthroned Man, till the music was like a rushing whirlwind of sweetest harmony ?*

Did he hear a bit of the same chorus that swept that other prisoner, the Patmos exile, till his whole being was thrilled and thralled? *

Then, when the redeemed ones join the chorus of praise, it becomes indescribable. It was like the unified voice of countless thousands. It was like the continual roar of the waves on rockbound Patmos.’

It was like the mighty thunderings that broke so tumultuously overhead in that Augean isle.

1Bzekiel 3:12. 2 Revelation 5: 9-14. Revelation 19:6.

It was all of these together, and more. For none can sing the praises of our Lord Jesus like the redeemed, the blood-washed redeemed.

Did Paul see and hear something of this in that Philippian dungeon? I think likely. Then he, too, joined the chorus. And the prison walls couldn’t stand that exuberant reverberation. The strain was too much for the earth’s crust. The ‘‘Thanks’’ knot on the end surely did great work that time.

One ean never forget our Lord’s use of this ‘<Thanks’’ knot at Lazarus’ tomb.’ Everything, seen commonly, pulls heavily the other way, with a dead-weight pull.

A grave, a dead man in it, dead beyond any possibility of a mere swoon, a home that he loved all darkened, dear friends weeping bitter convulsive tears, psychologically everything pulled down with a dead, dead pull.

Yet, in the midst of all this, our Lord ‘‘lifted up his eyes, and said ‘Father, I thank thee.’ a And the grave yielded up its victim, the dead man walked out, sobs were turned into songs, and the tear-wet faces shined their new joy.

Surely we may follow our Lord’s blessed example here. His use of the ‘‘Thanks’’ knot on the end is very significant.

Clearly he had been praying over the sore Bethany problem. And he had prayed definitely for the thing that actually took place.

Now, in the actual face of the impossible, he quietly confidently put the ‘‘Thanks’’ knot on the end of his prayer. Let us do it, too.

I remember a mother, bitterly distressed over her wayward son. She was an earnest consistent saintly Christian woman. It well-nigh broke her heart that her son, her first-born, was wild and profligate in personal habits. Her fine thoughtful face showed plainly the grief of her heart.

Then I noticed a change come in her face, gradual, distinct, and then deepening unmistakably. And in conversation about the thing she carried so deep in her heart, I ventured to ask about the changed attitude of spirit, so clearly seen in her face and in her dominant mood.

There was a peace, in face and spirit, quite marked, and indeed blessedly infectious. Yet there had been no change in her son.

And, in effect, she replied that she felt just as keenly, into the very quivering quick of her being, her son’s wayward conduct.

But she went on to say that she had committed him wholly to Jesus. And she knew Jesus could not fail her, and would not. Her prayer was assured of its full result. Her son would be changed, and utterly, radically changed.

And the result was even as she believed it would be, as I personally knew. The ‘‘Thanks’’ knot on the end knotted our blessed Lord up with her son, inextricably. And that brought the deep peace that itself tightened that *“Thanks’’ knot.

A China Thanks Knot.

There’s a significant story told of the early years of the China Inland Mission, under the

?

leadership of that rare saint and bold man of faith, Hudson Taylor.

There was a special gathering of workers and friends for prayer. It was felt that there was a crisis at hand. It was really a crisis of success. The work had been so blessed that it was felt they must push aggressively forward.

The workers had gathered for the special conference, from their fields of work. A day or longer had been spent in review and conference, and especially in prayer.

They were emboldened to pray that a large number of new workers, I think a hundred or so, should offer themselves for the service during the next year. And that they should be those of marked ability and training.

The tide of prayer and faith ran high. As the time came to its close the proposal was made that they appoint a meeting, a year hence, a meeting of praise and thanksgiving, for those who would come out in response to their prayer.

The boldness of faith in the proposal quite caught them all. It was felt that the Holy Spirit was guiding in this.

Then some one quietly said that it would involve much, of time and money, to gather in again from their various fields, a year hence.

Why not remain longer now, and spend the time in thanksgiving, for the hundred new workers that would come out the next year?

And the boldness of that took great hold of all hearts. And so it was done. And when finally they scattered to their fields it was with strongly expectant hearts.

And the thing thanked for came. Not one whit of it failed. The Spirit of God moved mightily among the university students of the old classical English centers.

And the next year actually saw that large number of the choicest, trained, university men of England gladly dedicating themselves to this service, and going out to China.

No one, on the inner circle of that never-to-beforgotten conference, could doubt that the Holy Spirit himself moved them to tie that ‘‘ Thanks’? knot on the end of that prayer time.

Let us yield anew to his gracious movings. Then he will lead us to do some knotting, too. For that ‘‘Thanks’’? knot is irresistible. It knots Jesus to our prayer. The results are already settled, and in due course will be seen, and felt, and sung over.

Thou Man on the Throne, thou God-man, our eyes are unto thee.

Thou hast been down here in the thick of the batile. Thou knowest about the noise of the traffic confusing our ears, the dust of the road blurring our vision, and the thick fog of the air stifling our breathing. Thou dost understand.

Now, thou art on the throne, with ‘‘all power.’? But thy heart is down here. Thou art watching the fight down here, for us men, and our right of free choice. Thy Hand reaches down for every hand reaching up.

We will keep our eyes on thee. Help us.

For thy wondrous Name’s sake. Amen.