IX

IT may be said with emphasis that no lazy saint prays. Can there be a

lazy saint? Can there be a prayerless saint? Does not slack praying cut

short sainthood’s crown and kingdom? Can there be a cowardly soldier?

Can there be a saintly hypocrite? Can there be virtuous vice? It is only

when these impossibilities are brought into being that we then can find

a prayerless saint.

To go through the motion of praying is a dull business, though not a

hard one. To say prayers in a decent, delicate way is not heavy work.

But to pray really, to pray till hell feels the ponderous stroke, to

pray till the iron gates of difficulty are opened, till the mountains of

obstacles are removed, till the mists are exhaled and the clouds are

lifted, and the sunshine of a cloudless day brightens—this is hard

work, but it is God’s work and man’s best labour. Never was the toil of

hand, head and heart less spent in vain than when praying. It is hard to

wait and press and pray, and hear no voice, but stay till God answers.

The joy of answered prayer is the joy of a travailing mother when a man

child is born into the world, the joy of a slave whose chains have been

burst asunder and to whom new life and liberty have just come.

A bird’s-eye view of what has been accomplished by prayer shows what we

lost when the dispensation of real prayer was substituted by Pharisaical

pretence and sham; it shows, too, how imperative is the need for holy

men and women who will give themselves to earnest, Christlike praying.

It is not an easy thing to pray. Back of the praying there must lie all

the conditions of prayer. These conditions are possible, but they are

not to be seized on in a moment by the prayerless. Present they always

may be to the faithful and holy, but cannot exist in nor be met by a

frivolous, negligent, laggard spirit. Prayer does not stand alone. It is

not an isolated performance. Prayer stands in closest connection with

all the duties of an ardent piety. It is the issuance of a character

which is made up of the elements of a vigorous and commanding faith.

Prayer honours God, acknowledges His being, exalts His power, adores His

providence, secures His aid. A sneering half-rationalism cries out

against devotion, that it does nothing but pray. But to pray well is to

do all things well. If it be true that devotion does nothing but pray,

then it does nothing at all. To do nothing but pray fails to do the

praying, for the antecedent, coincident, and subsequent conditions of

prayer are but the sum of all the energised forces of a practical,

working piety.

The possibilities of prayer run parallel with the promises of God.

Prayer opens an outlet for the promises, removes the hindrances in the

way of their execution, puts them into working order, and secures their

gracious ends. More than this, prayer like faith, obtains promises,

enlarges their operation, and adds to the measure of their results.

God’s promises were to Abraham and to his seed, but many a barren womb,

and many a minor obstacle stood in the way of the fulfilment of these

promises; but prayer removed them all, made a highway for the promises,

added to the facility and speediness of their realisation, and by prayer

the promise shone bright and perfect in its execution.

The possibilities of prayer are found in its allying itself with the

purposes of God, for God’s purposes and man’s praying are the

combination of all potent and omnipotent forces. More than this, the

possibilities of prayer are seen in the fact that it changes the

purposes of God. It is in the very nature of prayer to plead and give

directions. Prayer is not a negation. It is a positive force. It never

rebels against the will of God, never comes into conflict with that

will, but that it does seek to change God’s purpose is evident. Christ

said, “The cup which My Father hath given Me shall I not drink it?” and

yet He had prayed that very night, “If it be possible let this cup pass

from Me.” Paul sought to change the purposes of God about the thorn in

his flesh. God’s purposes were fixed to destroy Israel, and the prayer

of Moses changed the purposes of God and saved Israel. In the time of

the Judges Israel were apostate and greatly oppressed. They repented and

cried unto God and He said: “Ye have forsaken Me and served other gods,

wherefore I will deliver you no more:” but they humbled themselves, put

away their strange gods, and God’s “soul was grieved for the misery of

Israel,” and he sent them deliverance by Jephthah.

God sent Isaiah to say to Hezekiah, “Set thine house in order: for thou

shalt die, and not live;” and Hezekiah prayed, and God sent Isaiah back

to say, “I have heard thy prayer, I have seen thy tears; behold I will

add unto thy days fifteen years.” “Yet forty days and Nineveh shall be

overthrown,” was God’s message by Jonah. But Nineveh cried mightily to

God, and “God repented of the evil that He had said He would do unto

them; and He did it not.”

The possibilities of prayer are seen from the divers conditions it

reaches and the diverse ends it secures. Elijah prayed over a dead

child, and it came to life; Elisha did the same thing; Christ prayed at

Lazarus’s grave, and Lazarus came forth. Peter kneeled down and prayed

beside dead Dorcas, and she opened her eyes and sat up, and Peter

presented her alive to the distressed company. Paul prayed for Publius,

and healed him. Jacob’s praying changed Esau’s murderous hate into the

kisses of the tenderest brotherly embrace. God gave to Rebecca Jacob and

Esau because Isaac prayed for her. Joseph was the child of Rachel’s

prayers. Hannah’s praying gave Samuel to Israel. John the Baptist was

given to Elizabeth, barren and past age as she was, in answer to the

prayer of Zacharias. Elisha’s praying brought famine or harvest to

Israel; as he prayed so it was. Ezra’s praying carried the Spirit of God

in heart-breaking conviction to the entire city of Jerusalem, and

brought them in tears of repentance back to God. Isaiah’s praying

carried the shadow of the sun back ten degrees on the dial of Ahaz.

In answer to Hezekiah’s praying an angel slew one hundred and

eighty-five thousand of Sennacherib’s army in one night. Daniel’s

praying opened to him the vision of prophecy, helped him to administer

the affairs of a mighty kingdom, and sent an angel to shut the lions’

mouths. The angel was sent to Cornelius, and the Gospel opened through

him to the Gentile world, because his “prayers and alms had come up as a

memorial before God.” “And what shall I more say? for the time would

fail me to tell of Gideon, and of Barak, and of Samson, and of Jephthah;

of David also, and Samuel, and of the prophets;” of Paul and Peter, and

John and the Apostles, and the holy company of saints, reformers, and

martyrs, who, through praying, “subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness,

obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of

fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong,

waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens.”

Prayer puts God in the matter with commanding force: “Ask of Me things

to come concerning My sons,” says God, “and concerning the work of My

hands command ye Me.” We are charged in God’s Word “always to pray,” “in

everything by prayer,” “continuing instant in prayer,” to “pray

everywhere,” “praying always.” The promise is as illimitable as the

command is comprehensive. “All things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer,

believing, ye shall receive,” “whatever ye shall ask,” “if ye shall ask

anything.” “Ye shall ask what ye will and it shall be done unto you.”

“Whatsoever ye ask the Father He will give it to you.” If there is

anything not involved in “All things whatsoever,” or not found in the

phrase “Ask anything,” then these things may be left out of prayer.

Language could not cover a wider range, nor involve more fully all

_minutia_. These statements are but samples of the all-comprehending

possibilities of prayer under the promises of God to those who meet the

conditions of right praying.

These passages, though, give but a general outline of the immense

regions over which prayer extends its sway. Beyond these the effects of

prayer reaches and secures good from regions which cannot be traversed

by language or thought. Paul exhausted language and thought in praying,

but conscious of necessities not covered and realms of good not reached

he covers these impenetrable and undiscovered regions by this general

plea, “unto Him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that

we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us.” The promise

is, “Call upon Me, and I will answer thee, and show thee great and

mighty things, which thou knowest not.”

James declares that “the effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man

availeth much.” How much he could not tell, but illustrates it by the

power of Old Testament praying to stir up New Testament saints to

imitate by the fervour and influence of their praying the holy men of

old, and duplicate and surpass the power of their praying. Elijah, he

says, was a man subject to like passions as we are, and he prayed

earnestly that it might not rain: and it rained not on the earth by the

space of three years and six months. And he prayed again, and the heaven

gave rain, and the earth brought forth her fruit.

In the Revelation of John the whole lower order of God’s creation and

His providential government, the Church and the angelic world, are in

the attitude of waiting on the efficiency of the prayers of the saintly

ones on earth to carry on the various interests of earth and heaven. The

angel takes the fire kindled by prayer and casts it earthward, “and

there were voices, and thunderings, and lightnings, and an earthquake.”

Prayer is the force which creates all these alarms, stirs, and throes.

“Ask of Me,” says God to His Son, and to the Church of His Son, “and I

shall give thee the heathen for Thine inheritance and the uttermost

parts of the earth for Thy possessions.”

The men who have done mighty things for God have always been mighty in

prayer, have well understood the possibilities of prayer, and made most

of these possibilities. The Son of God, the first of all and the

mightiest of all, has shown us the all-potent and far-reaching

possibilities of prayer. Paul was mighty for God because he knew how to

use, and how to get others to use, the mighty spiritual forces of

prayer.

The seraphim, burning, sleepless, adoring, is the figure of prayer. It

is resistless in its ardour, devoted and tireless. There are hindrances

to prayer that nothing but pure, intense flame can surmount. There are

toils and outlays and endurance which nothing but the strongest, most

ardent flame can abide. Prayer may be low-tongued, but it cannot be

cold-tongued. Its words may be few, but they must be on fire. Its

feelings may not be impetuous, but they must be white with heat. It is

the effectual, fervent prayer that influences God.

God’s house is the house of prayer; God’s work is the work of prayer. It

is the zeal for God’s house and the zeal for God’s work that makes God’s

house glorious and His work abide.

When the prayer-chambers of saints are closed or are entered casually or

coldly, then Church rulers are secular, fleshly, materialised; spiritual

character sinks to a low level, and the ministry becomes restrained and

enfeebled.

When prayer fails, the world prevails. When prayer fails the Church

loses its Divine characteristics, its Divine power; the Church is

swallowed up by a proud ecclesiasticism, and the world scoffs at its

obvious impotence.

————————————————————————————————

_I look upon all the four Gospels as thoroughly genuine, for there

is in them the reflection of a greatness which emanated from the

person of Jesus and which was of as Divine a kind as ever was seen

on earth._

—GOETHE.

_There are no possibilities, no necessity for prayerless praying, a

heartless performance, a senseless routine, a dead habit, a hasty,

careless performance—it justifies nothing. Prayerless praying has

no life, gives no life, is dead, breathes out death. Not a

battle-axe but a child’s toy, for play not for service. Prayerless

praying does not come up to the importance and aims of a

recreation. Prayerless praying is only a weight, an impediment in

the hour of struggle, of intense conflict, a call to retreat in the

moment of battle and victory._

X

WHY do we not pray? What are the hindrances to prayer? This is not a

curious nor trivial question. It goes not only to the whole matter of

our praying, but to the whole matter of our religion. Religion is bound

to decline when praying is hindered. That which hinders praying, hinders

religion. He who is too busy to pray will be too busy to live a holy

life.

Other duties become pressing and absorbing and crowd out prayer. Choked

to death, would be the coroner’s verdict in many cases of dead praying,

if an inquest could be secured on this dire, spiritual calamity. This

way of hindering prayer becomes so natural, so easy, so innocent that it

comes on us all unawares. If we will allow our praying to be crowded

out, it will always be done. Satan had rather we let the grass grow on

the path to our prayer-chamber than anything else. A closed chamber of

prayer means gone out of business religiously, or what is worse, made an

assignment and carrying on our religion in some other name than God’s

and to somebody else’s glory. God’s glory is only secured in the

business of religion by carrying that religion on with a large capital

of prayer. The apostles understood this when they declared that their

time must not be employed in even the sacred duties of alms-giving; they

must give themselves, they said, “continually to prayer and to the

ministry of the Word,” prayer being put first with them and the ministry

of the Word having its efficiency and life from prayer.

The process of hindering prayer by crowding out is simple and goes by

advancing stages. First, prayer is hurried through. Unrest and

agitation, fatal to all devout exercises, come in. Then the time is

shortened, relish for the exercise palls. Then it is crowded into a

corner and depends on the fragments of time for its exercise. Its value

depreciates. The duty has lost its importance. It no longer commands

respect nor brings benefit. It has fallen out of estimate, out of the

heart, out of the habits, out of the life. We cease to pray and cease to

live spiritually.

There is no stay to the desolating floods of worldliness and business

and cares, but prayer. Christ meant this when He charged us to watch and

pray. There is no pioneering corps for the Gospel but prayer. Paul knew

that when he declared that “night and day he prayed exceedingly that we

might see your face and might perfect that which is lacking in your

faith.” There is no arriving at a high state of grace without much

praying and no staying in those high altitudes without great praying.

Epaphras knew this when he “laboured fervently in prayers” for the

Colossian Church, “that they might stand perfect and complete in all the

will of God.”

The only way to preserve our praying from being hindered is to estimate

prayer at its true and great value. Estimate it as Daniel did, who, when

he “knew that the writing was signed he went into his house, and his

windows being opened to Jerusalem, he kneeled upon his knees three times

a day and prayed and gave thanks before his God as he did aforetime.”

Put praying into the high values as Daniel did, above place, honour,

ease, wealth, life. Put praying into the habits as Daniel did. “As he

did aforetime” has much in it to give firmness and fidelity in the hour

of trial; much in it to remove hindrances and master opposing

circumstances.

One of Satan’s wiliest tricks is to destroy the best by the good.

Business and other duties are good, but we are so filled with these that

they crowd out and destroy the best. Prayer holds the citadel for God,

and if Satan can by any means weaken prayer he is a gainer so far, and

when prayer is dead the citadel is taken. We must keep prayer as the

faithful sentinel keeps guard, with sleepless vigilance. We must not

keep it half-starved and feeble as a baby, but we must keep it in giant

strength. Our prayer-chamber should have our freshest strength, our

calmest time, its hours unfettered, without obtrusion, without haste.

Private place and plenty of time are the life of prayer. “To kneel upon

our knees three times a day and pray and give thanks before God as we

did aforetime,” is the very heart and soul of religion, and makes men,

like Daniel, of “an excellent spirit,” “greatly beloved in heaven.”

The greatness of prayer, involving as it does the whole man, in the

intensest form, is not realised without spiritual discipline. This makes

it hard work, and before this exacting and consuming effort our

spiritual sloth or feebleness stands abashed.

The simplicity of prayer, its child-like elements form a great obstacle

to true praying. Intellect gets in the way of the heart. The child

spirit only is the spirit of prayer. It is no holiday occupation to make

the man a child again. In song, in poetry, in memory he may wish himself

a child again, but in prayer he must be a child again in reality. At his

mother’s knee, artless, sweet, intense, direct, trustful. With no shade

of doubt, no temper to be denied. A desire which burns and consumes

which can only be voiced by a cry. It is no easy work to have this

child-like spirit of prayer.

If praying were but an hour in the closet, difficulties would face and

hinder even that hour, but praying is the whole life preparing for the

closet. How difficult it is to cover home and business, all the sweets

and all the bitters of life, with the holy atmosphere of the closet! A

holy life is the only preparation for prayer. It is just as difficult to

pray, as it is to live a holy life. In this we find a wall of exclusion

built around our closets; men do not love holy praying, because they do

not love and will not do holy living. Montgomery sets forth the

difficulties of true praying when he declares the sublimity and

simplicity of prayer.

Prayer is the simplest form of speech

That infant lips can try.

Prayer is the sublimest strains that reach

The Majesty on high.

This is not only good poetry, but a profound truth as to the loftiness

and simplicity of prayer. There are great difficulties in reaching the

exalted, angelic strains of prayer. The difficulty of coming down to the

simplicity of infant lips is not much less.

Prayer in the Old Testament is called wrestling. Conflict and skill,

strenuous, exhaustive effort are involved. In the New Testament we have

the terms striving, labouring fervently, fervent, effectual, agony, all

indicating intense effort put forth, difficulties overcome. We, in our

praises sing out—

“What various hindrances we meet

In coming to a mercy seat.”

We also have learned that the gracious results secured by prayer are

generally proportioned to the outlay in removing the hindrances which

obstruct our soul’s high communion with God.

Christ spake a parable to this end, that men ought always to pray and

not to faint. The parable of the importunate widow teaches the

difficulties in praying, how they are to be surmounted, and the happy

results which follow from valorous praying. Difficulties will always

obstruct the way to the closet as long as it remains true,

“That Satan trembles when he sees

The weakest saint upon his knees.”

Courageous faith is made stronger and purer by mastering difficulties.

These difficulties but couch the eye of faith to the glorious prize

which is to be won by the successful wrestler in prayer. Men must not

faint in the contest of prayer, but to this high and holy work they must

give themselves, defying the difficulties in the way, and experience

more than an angel’s happiness in the results. Luther said: “To have

prayed well is to have studied well.” More than that, to have prayed

well is to have fought well. To have prayed well is to have lived well.

To pray well is to die well.

Prayer is a rare gift, not a popular, ready gift. Prayer is not the

fruit of natural talents; it is the product of faith, of holiness, of

deeply spiritual character. Men learn to pray as they learn to love.

Perfection in simplicity, in humility in faith—these form its chief

ingredients. Novices in these graces are not adepts in prayer. It cannot

be seized upon by untrained hands; graduates in heaven’s highest school

of art can alone touch its finest keys, raise its sweetest, highest

notes. Fine material, fine finish are requisite. Master workmen are

required, for mere journeymen cannot execute the work of prayer.

The spirit of prayer should rule our spirits and our conduct. The spirit

of the prayer-chamber must control our lives or the closest hour will be

dull and sapless. Always praying in spirit; always acting in the spirit

of praying; these make our praying strong. The spirit of every moment is

that which imparts strength to the closet communion. It is what we are

out of the closet which gives victory or brings defeat to the closet. If

the spirit of the world prevails in our non-closet hours, the spirit of

the world will prevail in our closet hours, and that will be a vain and

idle farce.

We must live for God out of the closet if we would meet God in the

closet. We must bless God by praying lives if we would have God’s

blessing in the closet. We must do God’s will in our lives if we would

have God’s ear in the closet. We must listen to God’s voice in public if

we would have God listen to our voice in private. God must have our

hearts out of the closet, if we would have God’s presence in the closet.

If we would have God in the closet, God must have us out of the closet.

There is no way of praying to God, but by living to God. The closet is

not a confessional, simply, but the hour of holy communion and high and

sweet intercourse and of intense intercession.

Men would pray better if they lived better. They would get more from God

if they lived more obedient and well pleasing to God. We would have more

strength and time for the Divine work of intercession if we did not have

to expend so much strength and time settling up old scores and paying

our delinquent taxes. Our spiritual liabilities are so greatly in excess

of our spiritual assets that our closet time is spent in taking out a

decree of bankruptcy instead of being the time of great spiritual wealth

for us and for others. Our closets are too much like the sign, “Closed

for Repairs.”

John said of primitive Christian praying, “Whatsoever we ask we receive

of Him, because we keep His commandments and do those things which are

pleasing in His sight.” We should note what illimitable grounds were

covered, what illimitable gifts were received by their strong praying:

“Whatsoever”—how comprehensive the range and reception of mighty

praying; how suggestive the reasons for the ability to pray and to have

prayers answered. Obedience, but more than mere obedience, doing the

things which please God well. They went to their closets made strong by

their strict obedience and loving fidelity to God in their conduct.

Their lives were not only true and obedient, but they were thinking

about things above obedience, searching for and doing things to make God

glad. These can come with eager step and radiant countenance to meet

their Father in the closet, not simply to be forgiven, but to be

approved and to receive.

It makes much difference whether we come to God as a criminal or a

child; to be pardoned or to be approved; to settle scores or to be

embraced; for punishment or for favour. Our praying to be strong must be

buttressed by holy living. The name of Christ must be honoured by our

lives before it will honour our intercessions. The life of faith

perfects the prayer of faith.

Our lives not only give colour to our praying, but they give body to it

as well. Bad living makes bad praying. We pray feebly because we live

feebly. The stream of praying cannot rise higher than the fountain of

living. The closet force is made up of the energy which flows from the

confluent streams of living. The feebleness of living throws its

faintness into closet homes. We cannot talk to God strongly when we have

not lived for God strongly. The closet cannot be made holy to God when

the life has not been holy to God. The Word of God emphasises our

conduct as giving value to our praying. “Then shalt thou call and the

Lord shalt answer, Thou shalt cry and He shall say, Here I am. If thou

take away from the midst of thee the yoke, the putting forth the finger,

and speaking vanity.”

Men are to pray “lifting up holy hands without wrath and doubting.” We

are to pass the time of our sojourning here in fear if we would call on

the Father. We cannot divorce praying from conduct. “Whatsoever we ask

we receive of Him because we keep His commandments and do those things

that are pleasing in His sight.” “Ye ask and receive not because ye ask

amiss that ye may consume it upon your lusts.” The injunction of Christ,

“Watch and pray,” is to cover and guard conduct that we may come to our

closets with all the force secured by a vigilant guard over our lives.

Our religion breaks down oftenest and most sadly in our conduct.

Beautiful theories are marred by ugly lives. The most difficult as well

as the most impressive point in piety is to live it. Our praying suffers

as much as our religion from bad living. Preachers were charged in

primitive times to preach by their lives or preach not at all. So

Christians everywhere ought to be charged to pray by their lives or pray

not at all. Of course, the prayer of repentance is acceptable. But

repentance means to quit doing wrong and learn to do well. A repentance

which does not produce a change in conduct is a sham. Praying which does

not result in pure conduct is a delusion. We have missed the whole

office and virtue of praying if it does not rectify conduct. It is in

the very nature of things that we must quit praying or quit bad conduct.

Cold, dead praying may exist with bad conduct, but cold, dead praying is

no praying in God’s esteem. Our praying advances in power as it

rectifies the life. A life growing in its purity and devotion will be a

more prayerful life.

The pity is that so much of our praying is without object or aim. It is

without purpose. How much praying there is by men and women who never

abide in Christ—hasty praying, sweet praying full of sentiment,

pleasing praying, but not backed by a life wedded to Christ. Popular

praying! How much of this praying is from unsanctified hearts and

unhallowed lips! Prayers spring into life under the influence of some

great excitement, by some pressing emergency, through some popular

clamour, some great peril. But the conditions of prayer are not there.

We rush into God’s presence and try to link Him to our cause, inflame

Him with our passions, move Him by our peril. All things are to be

prayed for—but with clean hands, with absolute deference to God’s will

and abiding in Christ. Prayerless praying by lips and hearts untrained

to prayer, by lives out of harmony with Jesus Christ; prayerless

praying, which has the form and motion of prayer but is without the true

heart of prayer, never moves God to an answer. It is of such praying

that James says: “Ye have not because ye ask not; ye ask and receive

not, because ye ask amiss.”

The two great evils—not asking, and asking in a wrong way. Perhaps the

greater evil is wrong asking, for it has in it the show of duty done, of

praying when there has been no praying—a deceit, a fraud, a sham. The

times of the most praying are not really the times of the best praying.

The Pharisees prayed much, but they were actuated by vanity; their

praying was the symbol of their hypocrisy by which they made God’s house

of prayer a den of robbers. Theirs was praying on state

occasions—mechanical, perfunctory, professional, beautiful in words,

fragrant in sentiment, well ordered, well received by the ears that

heard, but utterly devoid of every element of real prayer.

The conditions of prayer are well ordered and clear—abiding in Christ;

in His name. One of the first necessities, if we are to grasp the

infinite possibilities of prayer, is to get rid of prayerless praying.

It is often beautiful in words and in execution; it has the drapery of

prayer in rich and costly form, but it lacks the soul of praying. We

fall so easily into the habit of prayerless service, of merely filling a

programme.

If men only prayed on all occasions and in every place where they go

through the motion! If there were only holy inflamed hearts back of all

these beautiful words and gracious forms! If there were always uplifted

hearts in these erect men who are uttering flawless but vain words

before God! If there were always reverent bended hearts when bended

knees are uttering words before God to please men’s ears!

There is nothing that will preserve the life of prayer; its vigour,

sweetness, obligations, seriousness and value, so much as a deep

conviction that prayer is an approach to God, a pleading with God, an

asking of God. Reality will then be in it; reverence will then be in the

attitude, in the place, and in the air. Faith will draw, kindle and

open. Formality and deadness cannot live in this high and all-serious

home of the soul.

Prayerless praying lacks the essential element of true praying; it is

not based on desire, and is devoid of earnestness and faith. Desire

burdens the chariot of prayer, and faith drives its wheels. Prayerless

praying has no burden, because no sense of need; no ardency, because

none of the vision, strength, or glow of faith. No mighty pressure to

prayer, no holding on to God with the deathless, despairing grasp, “I

will not let Thee go except Thou bless me.” No utter self-abandon, lost

in the throes of a desperate, pertinacious, and consuming plea: “Yet now

if Thou wilt forgive their sin—if not, blot me, I pray thee, out of Thy

book;” or, “Give me Scotland, or I die.” Prayerless praying stakes

nothing on the issue, for it has nothing to stake. It comes with empty

hands, indeed, but they are listless hands as well as empty. They have

never learned the lesson of empty hands clinging to the cross; this

lesson to them has no form nor comeliness.

Prayerless praying has no heart in its praying. The lack of heart

deprives praying of its reality, and makes it an empty and unfit vessel.

Heart, soul, life must be in our praying; the heavens must feel the

force of our crying, and must be brought into oppressed sympathy for our

bitter and needy state. A need that oppresses us, and has no relief but

in our crying to God, must voice our praying.

Prayerless praying is insincere. It has no honesty at heart. We name in

words what we do not want in heart. Our prayers give formal utterance to

the things for which our hearts are not only not hungry, but for which

they really have no taste. We once heard an eminent and saintly

preacher, now in heaven, come abruptly and sharply on a congregation

that had just risen from prayer, with the question and statement, “What

did you pray for? If God should take hold of you and shake you, and

demand what you prayed for, you could not tell Him to save your life

what the prayer was that has just died from your lips.” So it always is,

prayerless praying has neither memory nor heart. A mere form, a

heterogeneous mass, an insipid compound, a mixture thrown together for

sound and to fill up, but with neither heart nor aim, is prayerless

praying. A dry routine, a dreary drudge, a dull and heavy task is this

prayerless praying.

But prayerless praying is much worse than either task or drudge, it

divorces praying from living; it utters its words against the world, but

with heart and life runs into the world; it prays for humility, but

nurtures pride; prays for self-denial, while indulging the flesh.

Nothing exceeds in gracious results true praying, but better not to pray

at all than to pray prayerless prayers, for they are but sinning, and

the worst of sinning is to sin on our knees.

The prayer habit is a good habit, but praying by dint of habit only is a

very bad habit. This kind of praying is not conditioned after God’s

order, nor generated by God’s power. It is not only a waste, a

perversion, and a delusion, but it is a prolific source of unbelief.

Prayerless praying gets no results. God is not reached, self is not

helped. It is better not to pray at all than to secure no results from

praying. Better for the one who prays, better for others. Men hear of

the prodigious results which are to be secured by prayer: the matchless

good promised in God’s Word to prayer. These keen-eyed worldlings or

timid little faith ones mark the great discrepancy between the results

promised and results realised, and are led necessarily to doubt the

truth and worth of that which is so big in promise and so beggarly in

results. Religion and God are dishonoured, doubt and unbelief are

strengthened by much asking and no getting.

In contrast with this, what a mighty force prayerful praying is. Real

prayer helps God and man. God’s Kingdom is advanced by it. The greatest

good comes to man by it. Prayer can do anything that God can do. The

pity is that we do not believe this as we ought, and we do not put it to

the test.

————————————————————————————————

_The deepest need of the Church to-day is not for any material or

external thing, but the deepest need is spiritual. Prayerless work

will never bring in the kingdom. We neglect to pray in the

prescribed way. We seldom enter the closet and shut the door for a

season of prayer. Kingdom interests are pressing on us thick and

fast and we must pray. Prayerless giving will never evangelise the

world._

—DR. A. J. GORDON.

_The great subject of prayer, that comprehensive need of the

Christian’s life, is intimately bound up in the personal fulness of

the Holy Spirit. It is “by the One Spirit we have access unto the

Father” (Eph. ii. 18), and by the same Spirit, having entered the

audience chamber through the “new and living way,” we are enabled

to pray in the will of God (Rom. viii. 15, 26-27; Gal. iv. 6; Eph.

vi. 18; Jude 20-21)._

_Here is the secret of prevailing prayer, to pray under a direct

inspiration of the Holy Spirit, whose petitions for us and through

us are always according to the Divine purpose, and hence certain of

answer. “Praying in the Holy Ghost” is but co-operating with the

will of God, and such prayer is always victorious. How many

Christians there are who cannot pray, and who seek by effort,

resolve, joining prayer circles, etc., to cultivate in themselves

the “holy art of intercession,” and all to no purpose. Here for

them and for all is the only secret of a real prayer life—“Be

filled with the Spirit,” who is “the Spirit of grace and

supplication.”_

—REV. J. STUART HOLDEN, M.A.

Purpose in Prayer · 第 11 / 15 题