Something About God's Will in Prayer

God Has a Plan for Things.

It is hard to be misunderstood. It is a bitter experience to be misunderstood by some one you love.

And if the misunderstanding become misrepresentation, untrue statements, even vile slanderous statements, the thing gets steadily worse.

And if, in your love, you have sacrificed, made personal sacrifices, and made them till the blood of your life was touched and given out and spilled, then the bitterness grows into a deep deep sadness, that cuts to the quivering quick, and clear into the marrow.

And if it be that the thing persists, in spite of all efforts to straighten it out, and in spite of the love still lavishly poured out, and the sacrifices for the other’s sake are still being made, this seems the very last possible degree of acute suffering.

Such things have been. Such things are, actually are to-day. There are men and women who know precisely, with a bitter reality, just what this sort of thing means.

And yet there is no one who has known it so deeply, and so heart-breakingly, and for so long, as — God!

There’s no one so much misunderstood, and misrepresented, and slanderously vilified, and actually lied about, as — God. It is distressing that so much of the misunderstanding, and even misrepresentation, is by good people, people that seem so saintly. Yet there it is.

Yet, quite beyond one’s ability to take it in, is the fact that the love has never been diminished a grot; the sacrifice has but deepened.

The patience has been only the more, by the length of time, and the persistence of this strange misunderstanding and stubborn opposition.

Every one has a plan for the things he is responsible for, every one worthwhile. The good housewife plans the day’s work, and the meals.

The thoughtful mother thinks ahead about the child’s school schedule. The father plans ahead for the boy’s schooling, up to the college years.

And so the bank and railroad executives, and so on, through the list. It’s a bit of the image in which we have been created, this planning ahead.

It may seem a bit startling to some of us, even the thoughtful ones, to put it in this way, that God plans things ahead.

Of course, he does. This is the human way to think and talk about God. And it’s a good way. It’s the only way we humans have, the human way.

God plans things for us down here, the whole scheme of things, and, and, each one’s life. There is one thing that acts as a check on his plans. And that is our consent.

Everything he does for us he does through our consent, either direct or indirect. This, too, is a bit of the image. Man is absolutely free in his choice.

God is the sovereign of the earth and the universe. That does not mean that everything he wants is being done. And it certainly does not mean that everything happening down here is as he plans.

It does mean just this, only this, and all of this. That before the thing is done, his own wise loving plan for things here will be carried out, to the full, and carried out through man’s consent, gladly and freely given.

God’s Ideal for Us Men.

What is God’s will? What plan has he made for us men? Well, there’s a simple picture of it in the old Book. And it is a picture that takes hold of one’s heart.

That picture is hung up at the very entrance of the gallery, where it may catch the eye at once, and fill the eye with its warm colouring.

It is the Eden picture. There man is made like God, so they can enjoy each other as real friends. He is made under-master of all creation. He is made a prince, to rule over a vast domain.

His home is a garden, a place of beauty and utility, with everything to supply needs, and to delight eye and mind and spirit.

He and God are fellows together. Don’t forget the rare old meaning of that old English word ‘‘fellow.’’ They spend the day together, talking, walking, working out the plans for the earth as fellow workers, and have the time of relaxation in each other’s company.

Is it not a winsome picture, taking hold of both brain and heart and ambition? Then the break came. It came through man, and through his power of free choice.

God’s best gift was used in the worst way. The power of free choice, meant to lead man up into closer touch with God, was actually used to go down, down and away.

But God has never lost heart. He has never given up his plans for man and for the earth. His ideal for us men and for things down here fills his eye, and beats warm and quick in his heart.

This is what is meant by God’s will. It takes in the whole scheme of things down here, and it takes in each one of us.

It is true, as the old-time New England teacher taught, that every man’s life is planned by God. And the highest pitch any man’s life can reach is to find, and fit into, that plan.

It will call for the best, and the most, there is in a man. And it will bring out the best, and make the actual best when the story is done to the end.

The Purpose of Prayer.

Now the whole purpose of prayer is to get that father-mother-lover will of God’s for us, to get it done, and done to the full.

Prayer is not coaxing God. It is not winning him over to our side, by persistent pleading, until finally he consents to what we want.

It is not extracting favours from a reluctant God. Prayer is an intelligent, sympathetic, taking hold of God’s willingness, eager willingness.

God’s will includes everything that concerns us. It includes the body, its health and strength. It takes account of home and friendships, and the one great life-friendship that makes and rounds out one’s life.

It thinks of the activities, the culture, the relaxations and enjoyments, It omits nothing that enters into a well-rounded, happy, human life.

And the whole purpose of prayer is to get that will of tender strong love, to get it done and fully done.

That means overcoming all the back-sets and obstacles, the temptations to wrong, and the hindrances, of which life, as it has become, is so full. It means carrying out all of that original plan for each one of us.

God’s plan for things down here is plainly told out in his Word, this rare solitary old Book of God. It tells us in plainest talk the one standard of right.

It tells of his warm tender strong love for us men. It tells of the power at hand to help a man reach up to that standard in his own life.

It is most striking that there is no progressive revelation in this Book, neither of morals, nor of God’s love. The flood-tide of both is in Eden.

The one unshaded, unvarying standard of right was written in Adam’s heart in the Eden garden. Those ten Horeb Commands were given because that standard was being dragged in the slime of the gutter.

Those ‘‘thou-shalt-nots,’’ together with the gruesome lustful practices so detailed and forbidden in Exodus and Leviticus, are a looking-glass, reflecting common moral conditions in Egypt, and all the world. The standard of right never varies from Eden’s garden on to the garden-city at the other end.

And God’s love, strong as a father’s, tender as a mother’s, eager as a lover’s, faithful as a friend’s, never varies from first page to last.

It is the warmth of love that plans a man in his own image, for sweet congenial companionship.

It is the strength of love that leads the guilty pair to the garden gate, that the garden might be kept pure and beautiful, fragrant and really homelike, for their return some day.

‘It is the tenderness of love, in that Sixth of Genesis, that is heartbroken over the way things have gone.

The language actually used there, put into simple English, means that the heart that actually broke on Calvary long after, was quite heartbroken with grief over man’s moral plight.

The Book tells God’s will for us originally, and as things now are down on this old planet.

It does more. It will make plain to a man now, God’s will for us, in the particular plan for each life, and in the actual circumstances of our lives.

A Rare Combination.

There’s a remarkable combination of things working together here, simple, delightfully simple, and truly remarkable. Three things taken together make that combination, the Book, the Holy Spirit, and our eager friendly co-operation.

The Holy Spirit is very God of very God. He is the active one in all the plans worked out, as told in the pages of the Book. He actually carries out on the earth the plans agreed upon.

He is in this Book, inspiring writers, talking to us, looking out into our faces, touching our consciences and wills and hearts.

He is in us. I don’t mean just now that he is in us creatively, keeping the life in our bodies. This is true, of course, regardless of our consent.

But I mean just now the deeper, fuller, richer, thing. He is in us, by our consent (if we’ve given our consent). He is in us to suggest, steady, strengthen and guide. He is in us to make us actually pure, and to strengthen us against temptation and wrong.

In a word, full of fullest meaning, he is in us to make effective all that Jesus did for us when he died, and is doing for us now through his intercession.

This is the real meaning of our surrender te Jesus Christ as Master and Lord. We accept Christ as a Saviour. But we should also surrender to him as actual Master of our lives, and in our lives.

That word ‘‘surrender’’ has been used much. And it is a good word. It is accurate. For we have been in practical warfare with him, putting and pitting our wills against his will.

This has been true, so much, of many who are really trusting him as a Saviour. But they do not surrender to him as an actual Master.

When we do so let him in to dominate our plans and lives, surrender is the proper word. The act is just that. It is giving up our plans and preferences and accepting his for us. And then finding out how much better his plans practically are for our lives now.

But, maybe, another word would help to give another side of the meaning. ‘‘Take-my-yoke’’ does not simply mean surrender to his control; it means yoking up with him. The two of us go along together. It means friendly codperation, working together for the same thing.

Articulate is the word used in school circles. The course of study in the lower grade ‘‘articulates’’ into the next higher grade, and so on, up and up. They are made to fit together. And they do.

Will you listen reverently? We, Jesus and you, and I, are made to fit together. And we do, when surrender becomes a habitual thing.

Now, these are the three things that, combined, will make quite clear to us what God’s will for us is, in the circumstances of our lives.

We yield gladly and habitually to his mastery. We get time daily off with the Book, that so our eyes may be opened, our vision broadened, our judgment seasoned, our wills made supple, and our feet steadied.

And the Holy Spirit will make clear to us, through the Book, and in our inner mental process, just what his will for us is, in some particular matter.

And the whole purpose in prayer is to get his will done. Our narrower outlook gives way to his broader outreach. Our judgment comes to accept as its own, by preference, his judgment.

Our plans shape themselves, in the actual emergency of life, touching us very intimately perhaps, they shape themselves into what we come to see is the wiser, more strategic, fartherreaching plans, touching others’ lives.

As we come to understand his plans, we accept them as our own. We do it gladly, eagerly. We’re working together, now, he and we. Prayer becomes partnership, an agreed upon scheme of working together for a great common end.

Learning God’s Will.

A woman came to me one evening, at the close of a meeting, and gently said, ‘‘May I tell you a bit of my experience?’’ I said, ‘‘Please do.’’

She was in middle life, with a thoughtful face. I listened intently, feeling I was looking into a laboratory of real experience.

Her story in substance was like this. Her home was on the edge of town, really in the country. Her husband was a commercial traveller, away from home much of the time.

So it was quite a common thing for her to be alone in the house with the children and the woman servant, with the nearest neighbour quite far away.

In the winter time there would likely be, at least, one tramp, maybe two or three, stealing a night’s lodging in the barn back of the house.

And those tramps were a vicious worthless sort, who wouldn’t hesitate to break in and rob, sometimes.

The danger of this had caused her much concern. She had prayed. She took every possible precaution. She tried to be trustful of God’s protecting care. But a sense of anxiety and worry would haunt her at times. This was one matter of concern at the time she was speaking of.

Then she had been asked to take a class of boys in the Sunday school. But she felt she had no skill as a teacher, and in particular she was sure she could not teach boys.

But the superintendent had persisted, and finally she had promised to pray definitely about the matter before finally refusing. These were the two matters uppermost in her mind and heart at the time she told me of.

It was her habit to spend a bit of time in prayer and Bible reading after the first round of the day’s duties had been attended to.

At this time her usual reading had brought her to Isaiah, chapter fifty-one. She was quietly reading, pausing to pray for this and that, then reading again and quietly thinking into the meaning, when she came down to verse sixteen.

And she said as her eyes, which had been turned away in thought, as her eyes fell again to the page the letters of the first part of that verse seemed as though in bigger blacker type.

These were the words that seemed to stand out so sharply on the page: ‘‘I have put my words in thy mouth,’’

Oh! that meant the boys. It was an answer to her prayer. She was to accept the class of boys. And quietly bowing, the decision was made. She felt she really couldn’t teach a class of boys. But she would undertake it. It was the Master’s plan for her.

And more than the specific answer to her prayer, was the realization that her prayer was being answered. Some One unseen was speaking to her through the Book. And for a while she sat quietly thinking about this, and about the boys, and praying about this new task.

Then, with her thought still intent on the boys, mechanically her eyes fell to the page again. And now the words of the next part of the verse stood out in the bolder type to her

eyes.

And these were the words: ‘‘ And have covered thee in the shadow of my hand.’? Ah! That meant the tramps, clearly. It was the assurance of protection in her winter loneliness.

And it seemed significant that the call to the bit of service came first. And then, as the call was responded to, there came the second answer, the assurance of protection. As she obeyed the bit of light that had come, more light came, and light of a very comforting kind.

Now, you turn to that Isaiah chapter she was reading. There’s not a word about boys or tramps in it. It is speaking of some future time when Israel will be God’s messenger nation to all the other nations, and under his protecting care in their mission.

But, the bit to mark, and to mark thoughtfully, is this: Are you listening? The Holy Spirit actually spoke to this woman as she was reading the Book.

He spoke through the words of the Book. With great simple skilful touch he made the very language fit into her double need, and answer her serious questions, and point out the way she was to go, and give assurance of the protection she needed.

In other words, fitting into this particular thing we are talking of just now, he told her of his will for her activities, and for her protection.

The Holy Spirit will lead us to know God’s will for us, bit by bit, step by step, as we wait upon him over the Book. Then it is for us to do as he points out regardless of preferences or difficulties.

There is one matter in which we know the will of God without even asking him. And that is regarding the salvation of those for whom we are concerned. Here we are upon steady footing. There’s a foundation of rock under our feet.

He is not willing that any one should perish.* He is eager that every one shall come penitently to Christ, and be saved through his precious blood.

Prayer Won Out.

There’s a striking illustration of this within fairly recent years. It is the story of a certain prominent scholar and educator. He grew up in

*II Peter 3: 9 middle clause; I Timothy 2:4; Ezekiel 18:23, 32; John 3:17.

God’s Will in Prayer cy!

a small college community, graduating in the college course while quite young.

He early developed facility in the study of languages, and also as a teacher. In time he became widely known as a linguist and teacher. Then he revealed rare skill as an educational organizer, and became president of one of the largest universities in this country.

As a child in growing youth he was trained in the old simple Christian faith. And early in life he accepted Christ as his Saviour, with a simple faith in the Bible, and in the substitutionary death of Christ for our sins.

Later, out in the thick of the activities of his scholarly work, he swung wide from the early moorings. The distinctive inspiration of the Bible, the distinctive singular personality of Christ. che distinctive sacrificial meaning of his death for us men, all these early moorings broke. And he drifted out on the sea of the vaguelyphrased scholasticism which marked the university he headed, in common with some others.

He was a man of great will power, very methodical, and of gigantic tasks and achievements. Indeed it was these very traits that, unduly developed, ran his strength to ebb while yet in his prime. And then the tide ran clean out.

He was on the sickbed which proved to be his last. There was time to think in the enforced idleness, and the quiet.

One day he called to his bedside certain associates in the university faculty, with whom he had been very closely associated for some years.

They were his intimate friends. They shared with him the vague philosophical beliefs which had swamped his early faith.

Very quietly he said to them, in effect, ‘‘I am a prodigal returning to my father’s house.’’ And he told them in a few words of his faith in the Bible, even as in his younger days, and in the atoning blood of the Saviour. Then he asked them to join hands, as a brief prayer went up from his dying lips.

When he died the word went out to the world that his last words were these, ‘‘I am sure this is not the end. There is something beyond.’’

They were words that could have been spoken by one of the ancient Greek scholars, groping in the foggy twilight, where no Christ light had ever shined.

But one in touch with the inner circle told me of the radical reversal, the return to the simple personal faith in a Saviour who had died for him.

If the whole story were told intimately, as it cannot be, it would be known that some one was praying. One in most intimate touch held on during those dark dreary years of Greek philosophizing, rarest culture, and nothing more.

Only that faithful prayer explains the striking face-about at the last. Prayer, that was a habit through the waiting years, and a mental attitude in the face of subtlest obstacles, and a life, and a personality in touch, that prayer won out. It won out decidedly and decisively.

Of course it did; it could. For there could be no question as to the Father’s will for the salvation of this man, as of every other who will, through Christ’s precious blood.

Thou great Christ, Son of God, Son of man, God the Son, God a Man,

Thou didst pour out thy heart of love, that creative week, in making man’s home for him, and then making man himself like thyself.

And when things went so bad, thou didst pour thy life clean out, out of a heart that broke in sore grief.

What a God thou art! What a tender strong will thy will for us ts!

We yield to thee all anew, thou Christ. We choose thy will for us as our own.

We will take time off alone with thee, over thy Word. So we shall learn thy blessed will for us, and in each turn, and circumstance.

And all anew, with a fresh meaning, we shall pray, “Thy will be done.’’

For thy Name’s sake, we ask. Amen.