Our Prayer-Meeting.
ONE thing we have gained by losing our pastor-the promise of better
prayer-meetings.
Not that he was recreant in his duty. He performed it only too well.
We learned to depend on him. He suffered us to do so. It was only by
a delicate irony that the prayer-meeting could be termed one of the
"social meetings" of the Church. A solemn stillness pervaded the
room. No one ever spoke after he entered the awful presence, unless
he rose, formally addressed "the chair," and delivered himself of a
set address. Occasionally one bolder than the rest spoke in a
sepulchral whisper to his neighbor-that was all. In other social
meetings the ladies, according to my observation, bear their full
burden of conversation. In our prayer-meetings no woman ever
ventured to open her mouth. In fact, I hardly know why they were
called prayer-meetings. We rarely had any greater number of prayers
than in our usual Sabbath service. Yes, I think we usually had one
more.
The minister entered solemnly at the appointed hour, walked straight
to his desk, without a word, a bow, a smile of recognition; read a
long hymn, offered a very respectable imitation of the "long
prayer," gave out a second hymn, and called on an elder to pray, who
always imitated the imitation, and included in his broad sympathies
all that his pastor had just prayed for-the Church, the
Sabbath-school, the unconverted, backsliders, those in affliction,
the President and all those in authority, the (Presbyterian) bishops
and other clergy, not forgetting the heathen and the Jews. Then
followed a passage of Scripture for a text from the pastor, with a
short sermon thereafter. Nor was it always short. I fancied he felt
the necessity of occupying the time. It was not unfrequently long
enough for a very respectable discourse, if length gives the
discourse its respectability. Then we had another prayer from
another layman, and then the invariable announcement, "the meeting
is now open," and the invariable result, a long, dead pause. In
fact, the meeting would not open. Like an oyster, it remained
pertinaciously shut. Occasionally some good elder would rise to
break the painful silence, by repeating some thought from the
previous Sunday's sermon, or by telling some incident or some idea
which he had seen in a previous number of "The Christian Union." But
as we had all been to church, and as most of us take "The Christian
Union," this did not add much to the interest of the meeting.
Generally another prayer and hymn, sometimes two, sufficed to fill
the hour. The pastor kept his eye on the clock. When the hand
pointed to nine he rose for the benediction. And never did a crowd
of imprisoned schoolboys show more glad exultation at their release
than was generally indicated by these brethren and sisters when the
words of benediction dismissed them from their period of irksome
restraint. Every man, and every woman, too, found a tongue. We broke
up into little knots. A busy hum of many voices replaced the dead
silence. The "social meeting" commenced when the "prayer-meeting"
ended. This, I think, is a fair portraiture of our prayer-meetings
at Wheathedge as they were during our late pastor's presence with
us.
The fault was not his-at least it was only proximately his. He felt
the burden, groaned under it, tried hard, poor man! to remedy the
evil. He often came to consult me about it. He tried various plans.
He gave a course of weekly lectures. The prayer-meeting was less a
meeting of prayer than before. No man was willing to follow his
elaborate lecture with a fragmentary talk. He announced from the
pulpit, the preceding Sabbath, the topic for the next meeting. Worse
and worse! A few members conscientiously studied up the passage in
"Barnes's Notes" and the "Comprehensive Commentary," and brought us
the result of their investigations in discourse powerfully prosy,
and recondite with second hand learning. The Minister at last gave
up the matter in despair. I think the condition of our
prayer-meetings was one consideration which greatly influenced him
in deciding to leave.
I thought that there was nothing left in them to be lost, that no
change could be other than for the better; but after he went what
little meeting we had fell away. The few who had been attracted by
his personal presence ceased to come. In vain we endeavored to
revive our flagging spirits by continually reminding one another
that the promise was to two or three gathered together. That was our
standard text. Every leader referred to it in his prayers, and
generally in his opening remarks. We had need of it. For the last
two weeks there were not members enough present to serve as
pall-bearers for the dead prayer-meeting.
This brought about a crisis. Two weeks ago, Deacon Goodsole came to
me to talk over the spiritual condition of our church. I agreed with
him that the prayer-meeting was a fatal symptom if not a fatal
disease. We agreed to do what we could to remedy it. We asked the
session to put it into our hands. They were only too glad to do so.
We spoke quietly to two other of the brethren to co-operate with us.
We divided the parish among ourselves, and undertook to visit all
the praying and waking members-not a very onerous task. We talked
with one by one, concerning the spiritual condition of the church,
asked them to come next week to the prayer-meeting, and to bring
with them warm hearts. "Come," we said, "from your closets. Come in
the spirit of prayer." Fifteen minutes before the hour of meeting we
four met in the Bible-class room. One agreed to act that night as
leader. It was Deacon Goodsole. He told the rest of us his subject.
Then we all knelt together and asked God's blessing on our
prayer-meeting. From that brief and simple conference we went
together to the conference-room. Each one agreed to carry some
offering with him-a word, a prayer, a hymn. Each one agreed also to
bring in speech but a single thought, and in prayer but a single
petition. The leader himself should occupy but five minutes. Our
hearts were aglow. We never had such a prayer-meeting in Wheathedge.
Deacon Goodsole did not have to announce that the prayer-meeting was
open. It opened itself. We had hard work to close it. The meeting
last week was preceded in the same manner by fifteen minutes of
prayer. It was characterized by the same warmth and freshness. We
are astonished to find how short our hour is when we come to the
meeting from our knees, when we bring to it, in our hearts, the
spirit of God. We have no long speeches. So far we have had few
exhortations and much true experience. Shall we fall back again into
the old ruts? Perhaps. It is something that we are not in them now.
Meanwhile, from this brief experience I cull five proverbs for my
own reflection.
The minister cannot make a good meeting.
Warm hearts are better than great thoughts.
Solemn faces do not make sacred hours.
Little leading makes much following.
Brevity is the soul of the prayer-meeting.