Biblical Essays
PRAYER, IN ITS PROPER PLACE?
There is a strong tendency in the human mind to take a one-sided view of things. This should be carefully guarded against. It would always be our wisdom to view things as God presents them to us in His Holy Word. We should put things where He puts them, and leave them there. Were this more faithfully attended to, the truth would be much more clearly understood, and souls much better instructed. There is a divine place for everything, and everything should be in a divine place. We should avoid putting right things in wrong places, just as carefully as we would avoid setting them aside altogether. One may do as much damage as the other. Let any divine institution be taken out of its divinely-appointed place, and its divinely-appointed end must fail. We imagine this will hardly be questioned by any enlightened or well-regulated mind. It will be admitted, on all hands, to be wrong to put things in any place except exactly where God intended them to be.
In proportion to the importance of a right thing is the importance of having it in its right place. In a special manner, this remark stands firm with respect to the hallowed and precious exercise of prayer. It is hard to imagine how anyone with the Word of God in hand, could presume to detract from the value of prayer. It is one of the highest functions, and most important privileges of the Christian life. No sooner has the new nature been communicated by the Holy Spirit, through faith in Christ, than it expresses itself in the sweet accents of prayer.
Prayer is the earnest breathing of the new man, drawn forth by the operation of the Holy Spirit, who dwells in all true believers. Hence, to find anyone praying, is to find him manifesting divine life in one of its most touching and beauteous characteristics – dependence. There may be a vast amount of ignorance displayed in the prayer, both in its character and object; but the spirit of prayer is unquestionably divine. A child may ask for a great many foolish things; but, clearly, he could not ask for anything if he had no life. The ability and desire to ask are the infallible proofs of life. No sooner had Saul of Tarsus passed from death unto life, than the Lord says of him, “Behold, he prayeth” (Acts 9). No doubt, as “a Pharisee of the Pharisees,” he had said many “long prayers;” but, not until he “saw that Just One, and heard the voice of his mouth,” could it be said of him, “behold, he prayeth” (Acts 22:14).
Saying prayers and praying are two totally different things. A self-righteous Pharisee may excel in the former; none but a converted soul can enjoy the latter. The spirit of prayer is the spirit of the new man; the language of prayer is the distinct utterance of the new life. The moment a spiritual babe is born into the new creation, it sends up a cry of helpless dependence toward the source of its birth. Who would dare to hush that cry? Let the babe be gently satisfied, not rudely silenced. The very cry that ignorance would seek to stifle falls like sweet music on a parent’s ear. It is the proof of life. It evidences the existence of a new object around which the affections of a parent's heart may entwine.
All this is plain enough. It commends itself to every renewed mind. The man who could think of hushing the accents of prayer must be wholly ignorant of the precious and beautiful mysteries of the new creation. One may seek instruction regarding the understanding of praying; but let not the spirit of prayer be quenched. Let the beams of divine revelation in all their emancipating power, shine in on the struggling conscience, but let not the breathings of the new life be interrupted.
The newly-converted soul may be in great darkness. The chilling mists of legalism may enwrap his spirit. As yet, he may not be able to rest fully in Christ and His accomplished work. As yet, his awakened conscience may not have found its peace-giving answer in the precious blood of Jesus. Doubts and fears may sorely beset him. He may not know about the important doctrine of the two natures and the continual conflict between them. He is bowed down beneath the humiliating sense of indwelling sin and, as yet, he sees not the ample provision that redeeming love has made for that very thing in the sacrifice and priesthood – the blood and advocacy of the Lord Jesus Christ. The joyous emotions attending the first moments of his conversion have passed away. The beams of the Sun of Righteousness are hidden by the heavy clouds arising from within and around him. It is not with him as in days past. He marvels at the sad change that has come over him and begins to doubt if he was ever converted at all.
Need we wonder, though such a one should cry mightily to God? Yea, the wonder would be if he could do anything else. How, then, should we treat him? Should we teach him not to pray? God forbid. This would be to do the work of Satan, who, assuredly, hates prayer most cordially. To drop a syllable that could even be understood as making little of an exercise so entirely divine, would be to fly in the face of the entire Book of God, to deny the very example of Christ, and hinder the utterance of the Holy Spirit in the new-born soul.
The Old and New Testament Scriptures literally teem with exhortations and encouragements to pray. To quote the passages would fill a volume. The blessed Master Himself has left His people an example as to the unceasing exercise of a spirit of prayer. He both prayed Himself and taught His disciples to pray. The same is true of the Holy Spirit in the apostles.1
If we ponder the passages listed in the first footnote, we will have a view of the place prayer occupies in the Christian economy. We will see that disciples are exhorted to pray; and we will note that it is only disciples who are exhorted. We will see that prayer is a grand prominent exercise of the house of God; and we will note that we must be in the house of God to engage in it. We will see that prayer is the undoubted utterance of the new life; and we will note that the life must be there to utter itself. We will see that prayer is an important part of the Christian’s privilege; and we will note that in no wise does it enter into the foundation of the Christian’s peace.
Thus, we will be able to put prayer in its proper place; and how important it is that it should be so put. How important it is that the anxious enquirer should see that the deep and solid foundations of his present and everlasting peace were laid centuries ago in the work of the cross. How important that the blood of Jesus should stand out before the soul in clear and bold relief, and in its own solitary grandeur, as the sole foundation of the sinner’s rest. A soul may be earnestly seeking and crying for salvation, and all the while be ignorant of the great fact that it is close at hand – that he is actually commanded to accept a free, full, present, personal, and eternal salvation – that Christ has done all – that a brimming cup of salvation is set before him, that faith has only to take and drink for its everlasting satisfaction. The Gospel of God’s free grace points to the rent veil; the empty tomb; the occupied throne above2 – what do these things declare? What voice do they utter in the anxious sinner’s ear? – Salvation! Salvation! Salvation! The rent veil, the empty tomb, the occupied throne; all cry out, salvation.
Do we really want salvation? Then why not take it, as God’s free gift? Are we looking for salvation to our own heart or to Christ’s finished work? Is it needful to wait another moment in order to know that we are fully and forever saved? If so then Christ’s work was not finished; the ransom was not paid; something yet remains to be done. But Christ said, “It is finished,” and God says, “I have found a ransom.”3 If we have to do, say, or think anything to complete the work of salvation, then Christ would not be a whole, perfect Savior.
Further, it would be a plain denial of Scripture: “To him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness” (Rom. 4:5). Let us take heed that we are not mixing up our prayers with the glorious work of redemption, completed by the Lamb of God on the cross. Prayer is precious; but, remember, “without faith it is impossible to please God” (Heb. 11); and if we have faith in the faith of Christ, we have Christ, and having Christ, we have all. If we say we are crying for mercy, the Word of God points us to mercy’s copious stream flowing from the finished sacrifice. We have all our anxious heart can want or need in Jesus, and He is God’s free gift to us just as we are, where we are, now. If we had to be anything else but what we are, or to go anywhere from where we are, then salvation would not be “by grace, through faith” (Eph. 2). If we are anxious to get salvation, and God desires we should have it, why is another moment needed without it? It is ready. Christ died and rose again. The Holy Spirit testifies. The Word is plain.
May the Spirit of God lead anxious souls to find settled repose in Jesus. May He lead them to look straight to an all-sufficient atonement. May He give to all clearness of apprehension and simplicity of faith; and may He especially endow all who stand up to teach and preach with ability, “rightly to divide the word of truth,” so that they may not apply passages of Scripture to the unregenerate sinner or the anxious enquirer that refer only to the established believer. Very serious damage is done both to the truth of God and to the souls of men, by an unskillful division and application of the Word.
Before there can be spiritual action, there must be spiritual life; and the only way to get spiritual life is by believing on the name of the Son of God. Therefore, if the precepts of God’s Word is applied to people who do not have spiritual life acting on them, confusion must be the result. The precious privileges of the Christian are formed into a heavy yoke for the unconverted. A strange system of half-law, half-gospel, is propounded, whereby true Christianity is robbed of its characteristic glory and the souls of men are plunged in mist and perplexity. There is urgent need in this age for clearness in setting forth the true ground of a sinner’s peace. Many souls are being convicted of sin. They have gotten life, but not liberty. They are quickened, but not yet emancipated. They want a full, clear, unclouded Gospel. The claims of a divinely awakened conscience can only be answered by the blood of the cross. If anything, no matter what, is added to the finished work of Christ, the soul must be filled with doubt and darkness.
May God grant us to more fully know the true place and value of simple faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, and of earnest prayer in the Holy Spirit.
