By J. C. Ryle
I have a question to offer you. It is contained in three words: Do you pray?
The question is one that none but you can answer. Whether you attend
public worship or not, your minister knows. Whether you have family prayers in
your house or not, your relations know. But whether you pray in private or not,
is a matter between yourself and God.
I beseech you in all affection to attend to the subject I bring before
you. Do not say my question is to close. If your heart is right in the sight of
God, there is nothing in it to make you afraid. Do not turn off my question by
replying that you say your prayers. It is one thing to say your prayers and
another to pray. Do not tell me that my question is unnecessary. Listen to me
for a few minutes, and I will show you good reasons for asking it.
I ask whether you pray, because prayer
is absolutely needful to a man’s salvation.
I say, absolutely needful, and I say so advisedly. I am not speaking now
of infants or idiots. I am not settling the state of the heathen. I know that
where little is given, there little will be required. I speak especially of
those who call themselves Christians, in a land like our own. And such I say,
no man or woman can expect to be saved who does not pray.
I hold salvation by grace as strongly as anyone. I would gladly offer a
free and full pardon to the greatest sinner that ever lived. I would not
hesitate to stand by his dying bed, and
say, ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ even now, and you shall saved.’ But that
a man can be saved without asking for
it, I cannot see in the Bible. That a man will receive pardon of sins, who will
not so much as lift up his heart inwardly, and say, ‘Lord Jesus, give it to
me’, this I cannot find. I can find that nobody will be saved by his prayers,
but I cannot find that without prayer anybody will be saved.
It is not absolutely needful that a man should read the Bible. A man may
have no learning, or be blind, and yet have Christ in his heart. It is not
absolutely needful that a man should hear public preaching of the gospel. He
may live where the gospel is not preached, or he may be bedridden, or deaf. But
the same thing cannot be said about prayer.
It is absolutely needful to salvation that a man should pray.
There is no royal road either to health or learning. Princes and kings,
poor men and peasants, all alike must attend to the wants of their own bodies
and their own minds. No man can eat,
drink or sleep by proxy. No man can get
the alphabet learned for him by another. All these are things which everybody
must do for himself, or they will not be done at all.
Just as it is with body, so it is with the soul. There are certain
things absolutely needful to the soul’s health and well-being. Each must attend
to these things for himself. Each must repent for himself. Each must apply to
Christ for himself. And for himself each must speak to God and pray. You must
do it for yourself, for by nobody else can it be done.
To be prayerless is to be without God, without Christ, without grace,
without hope, and without heaven. It is to be on the road to the hell. Now you
can wonder that I ask the question: Do
you pray?
I ask again whether you pray, because a habit of prayer is one of the surest mark of a true Christian.
All the children of God on earth are alike in this respect. From the
moment there is any life and reality about their religion, they pray. Just as
the first sign of life in an infant when born into the world is the act of
breathing, so the first act of men and women when they are born again is praying. This is one of the common marks
of all the elects of God, they ‘cry day and night unto him’ (Luke 18:7). The
Holy Spirit, who makes them new creatures, works in them the feeling of
adoption, and makes them cry, ‘Abba,
Father’ (Romans 8:15). The Lord Jesus, when he quickens them, gives them a
voice and a tongue, and says to them, ‘Be dumb no more’. God has no dumb
children. It is as much a part of their new nature to pray, as it is of a child
to cry. They see their need for mercy and grace. They feel their emptiness and
weakness. They cannot do otherwise than they do. They must pray.
I have looked carefully over the lives of God’s saints in the Bible. I
cannot find one of whose history much is told us, from Genesis to Revelation,
who was not a man of prayer. I find it mentioned as a characteristic of the
godly, that they ‘call on the Father’ (1 Peter1:17), or ‘on the name of Jesus
Christ our Lord’ (1 Corinthians 1:2). Recorded as a characteristic of the
wicked is the fact that they ‘call not upon the Lord’ (Psalm 14:4).
I have read the lives of many eminent Christians who have been on earth
since the Bible days. Some of them, I see, were rich, and some poor. Some were
learned, and some unlearned. Some of them were Episcopalians, and some Christians
of other names. Some were Calvinists, and some were Arminians. Some have loved
to use liturgy, and some to use none. But one thing, I see, they all have in
common. They have all been men of prayer.
I study the reports of missionary societies in our times. I see with joy
that heathen men and women are receiving the gospel in various parts of the
globe. There are conversions in Africa, in Hindustan, in China. The people
converted are naturally unlike one another in every respect. But one striking thing
I observe at all the missionary stations: the converted people always pray.
I do not deny that a man may pray without heart and without sincerity. I
do not for a moment pretend to say that the mere fact of a person’s praying
proves everything about his soul. As in every other part of religion, so also
in this, there may be deception and hypocrisy.
But this I do say, that not praying is a clear proof that a man is not
yet a true Christian. He cannot really feel his sins. He cannot love God. He
cannot feel himself a debtor to Christ. He cannot long after holiness. He
cannot desire heaven. He has yet to be born again. He has yet to be made a new
creature. He may boast confidently of election, grace, faith, hope, and
knowledge, and deceive ignorant people. But you may rest assured it is all vain
talk if he does not pray.
And I say, furthermore, that all the evidence of the real work of the
Spirit, a habit of hearty private prayer is one of the most satisfactory that
can be named. A man may preach from false motives. A man may write books and
make fine speeches and seem diligent in good works, and yet be a Judas
Iscariot. But a man seldom goes into his closet, and pours out his soul before
God in secret, unless he is in earnest. The
Lord himself has set his stamp on prayer as the best proof of a true conversion.
When he sent Ananias to Saul in Damascus, he gave him no other evidence of his
change of heart than this, ‘Behold, he prayeth’ (Acts 9:11).
I know that much may go on in a man’s mind before he is brought to pray.
He may have many convictions, desires, wishes, feelings, intentions,
resolutions, hopes, and fears. But all these things are very uncertain
evidences. They are to be found in ungodly people, and often come to nothing.
In mane a case they are not more lasting than the morning cloud, and the dew
that passeth away. A real, hearty prayer, coming from a broken and contrite
spirit, is worth all these things put together.
I know that the Holy Spirit, who calls sinners from their evil ways,
does in many instances lead them by very slow degrees to acquaintance with
Christ. But the eye of man can only judge by what it sees. I cannot call any one
justified until he believes. I dare not say that any one believes until he
prays. I cannot understand a dumb faith. The first act of faith will be to
speak to God. Faith is to the soul what life is to the body. Prayer is to faith
what breath is to life. How a man can live and not breathe is past my
comprehension, and how a man can believe and not pray is past my comprehension
too.
Never be surprised if you hear ministers of the gospel dwelling much on
the importance of prayer. This is the point we want to bring you to; we want to
know that you pray. Your views of doctrine may be correct. Your love of
Protestantism may be warm and unmistakeable. But still this may be nothing more
than head knowledge and party spirit. We want to know whether you can speak to
God as well as speak about God. Do
you wish to find out whether you are a true Christian? Then rest assured that
my question is of the very first importance – Do you pray?
I ask whether you pray, because there
is no duty in religion so neglected as private prayer.
We live in days of abounding religious profession. There are more places
of public worship now than there ever were before. There are more persons
attending them than there ever were before. And yet in spite of all this public
religion, I believe there is a vast neglect of private prayer. It is one of
those private transactions between God and our souls which no aye sees, and
therefore one which men are tempted to pass over and leave undone. I believe
that thousands never utter a word of
prayer at all. They eat. They drink. They sleep. They rise. They go forth
to their labour. They return to their homes. They breathe God’s air. They see
God’s sun. They walk on God’s earth. They enjoy God’s mercies. They have dying
bodies. They have judgment and eternity before them. But they never speak to God. They live like the
beasts that perish. They behave like creatures without souls. They have not one
word to say to him in whose hand are their life and breath, and all things, and
from whose mouth they must one day receive their everlasting sentence. How
dreadful this seems; but if the secrets of men were only known, how common.
I believe there are ten of thousands whose
prayers are nothing but a mere form, a set of words repeated by rote,
without a thought about their meaning. Some say over a few hasty sentences
picked up in the nursery when they were children. Some content themselves with
repeating the Creed, forgetting that there is not a request in it. Some add the
Lord’s Prayer, but without the slightest desire that its solemn petitions may
be granted.
Many, even of those who use good forms, mutter their prayers after they
have got into bed, or while they wash or dress in the morning. Men may think
what they please, but they may depend upon it that in the sight of god this is not praying. Words said without heart
are as utterly useless to our souls as the drum beating of the poor heathen
before their idols. Where there is no
heart, there may the lip work and tongue work, but there is nothing that
God listens to; there is no prayer.
Saul, I have no doubt, said many a long prayer before the Lord met him on the
way to Damascus. But it was not till his heart was broken that the Lord said,
‘He prayeth’.
Does this surprise you? Listen to me, and I will show you that I am not
speaking as I do without reason. Do you thing that my assertions are
extravagant and unwarrantable? Give me your attention, and I will soon show you
that I am only telling you the truth.
Have you forgotten that is not
natural to anyone to pray? ‘The carnal mind is enmity against God’. The
desire of man’s heart is to get far away from god, and have nothing to do with
him. His feelings towards him is not love, but fear. Why then should a man pray
when he has no real sense of sin, no real feeling of spiritual wants, no
thorough belief in unseen things, no desire after holiness and heaven? Of all
these things the vast majority of men know and feel nothing. The multitude walk
in the broad way. I cannot forget this. Therefore I say boldly, I believe that
few pray.
Have you forgotten that is not
fashionable to pray? It is one of the things that many would be rather
ashamed to own. There are hundreds who would sooner storm a breach, or leas a
forlorn hope, than confess publicly that they make a habit of prayer. There are
thousands who, if obliged to sleep in the same room with a stranger, would lie
down in bed without a prayer. To dress well, to go to theatres, to be thought
clever and agreeable, all this is fashionable, but not to pray. I cannot forget
this. I cannot think a habit is common which so many seem ashamed to own. I
believe that few pray.
Have you forgotten the lives that
many live? Can we really believe that people are praying against sin night
and day, when we see them plunging into it? Can we suppose they pray against
the world, when they are entirely absorbed and taken up with its pursuits? Can
we think they really ask God for grace to serve him, when they do not show the
slightest desire to serve him at all? Oh, no, it is plain as daylight that the
great majority of men either ask nothing of God or do not mean what they say when they do ask, which is just the same
thing. Praying and sinning will never live together in the same heart. Prayer
will consume sin, or sin will choke prayer. I cannot forget this. I look at
men’s lives. I believe that few pray.
Have you forgotten the deaths that
many die? How many, when they draw near death, seem entirely strangers to
God. Not only are they sadly ignorant of his gospel, but sadly wanting in the
power of speaking to him. There is a terrible awkwardness and shyness in their
endeavours to approach him. They seem to be taking up a fresh thing. They
appear as if they wanted an introduction to God, and as if they had never
talked with him before. I remember having heard of a lady who was anxious to
have a minister to visit her in her illness. She desired that he would pray with
her. He asked her what he should pray for. She did not know, and could not
tell. She was utterly unable to name any one thing which she wished him to ask
God for her soul. I can quite understand this. Death beds are great revealers
of secrets. I cannot forget what I have seen of sick and dying people. This
also leads me to believe that few pray.
I cannot see your heart. I do not know your private history in spiritual
things. But from what I see in the Bible and in the world I am certain I cannot
ask you a more necessary question than that before you – Do you pray?
I ask whether you pray, because prayer
is an act in religion to which there is great encouragement.
There is everything on God’s part to make prayer easy, if men will only
attempt it. All things are ready on his side. Every objection is anticipated.
Every difficulty is provided for. The crooked places are made straight and the
rough places are made smooth. There is no excuse left for the prayerless man.
There is a way by which any
man, however sinful and unworthy, may draw near to God the Father. Jesus Christ
has opened that way by the sacrifice he made for us upon the cross. The
holiness and justice of God need not frighten sinners and keep them back. Only
let them cry to God in the name of Jesus, only let them plead the atoning blood
of Jesus, and they shall find God upon a throne of grace, willing and ready to
hear. The name of Jesus is a never-failing passport for our prayers. In that
name a man may draw near to God with boldness, and ask with confidence. God has
engaged to hear him. Think of this. Is not this encouragement?
There is an Advocate and
Intercessor always waiting to present the prayers of those who come to God
through him. That Advocate is Jesus Christ. He mingles our prayers with the
incense if his own almighty intercession. So mingled, they go up as a sweet
savour before the throne of God. Poor as they are in themselves, they are
mighty and powerful in the hand of our High Priest and Elder Brother. The bank
note without a signature at the bottom is nothing but a worthless piece of
paper. The stroke of a pen confers on it all its value. The prayer of a poor
child of Adam is a feeble thing in itself, but once endorsed by the hand of the
Lord Jesus availeth much. There was an officer in the city of Rome who was
appointed to have his doors always open, in order to receive any Roman citizen
who applied to him for help. Just so the ear of the Lord Jesus is ever open to
the cry of all who want mercy and grace. It is his office to help them. Their
prayer is his delight. Think of this. Is not this encouragement?
There is the Holy Spirit ever
ready to help our infirmities in prayer. It is one part of this special office
to assist us in our endeavours to speak with God. We need not be cast down and
distressed by the fear of not knowing what to say. The Spirit will give us
words if we seek his aid. The prayers of the Lord’s people are the inspiration
of the Lord’s Spirit, the work of the Holy Ghost who dwells within them as the
Spirit of grace and supplication. Surely the Lord’s people may well hope to be
heard. It is not they merely that pray, but the Holy Ghost pleading in them.
Reader, think of this. Is not this encouragement?
There are exceeding great and precious promises to those who pray. What
did the Lord Jesus mean when he spoke such words as these: ‘Ask, and it shall
be given to you; seek, and ye shall find; knock and it shall be opened unto
you: for every one that asketh, receiveth; and he that seeketh, findeth; and to
him that knocketh, it shall be opened’ (Matthew 7:7). ‘All things whatsoever ye
shall ask in my name, that I will do, that the Father may be glorified in the
Son. If ye shall ask anything in my name, I will do it’ (John 14:13, 14). What
did the Lord mean when he spoke the parables of the friend at midnight and the
importunate widow (Luke 11:5; 18:1)? Think over these passages. If this is not
encouragement to pray, words have no meaning.
There are wonderful examples
in Scripture of the power of prayer. Nothing seems to be too great, too hard,
or too difficult for prayer to do. It has obtained things that seemed
impossible and out of reach. It has won victories over fire, earth, and water.
Prayer opened the Red Sea, prayer brought water from the rock and bread from
heaven. Prayer made the sun stand still. Prayer brought fire from the sky on
Elijah’s sacrifice. Prayer turned the counsel of Ahithophel into foolishness.
Prayer overthrew the army of Sennacherib. Well might Mary Queen of Scots say,
‘I fear John Knox’s prayer more than an army of ten thousand men’. Prayer has
healed the sick. Prayer has raised the dead. Prayer has procured the conversion
of souls. ‘The child of many prayers’, said an old Christian to Augustine’s
mother, ‘shall never perish’. Prayer, pains, and faith can do anything. Nothing
seems impossible when a man has the Spirit of adoption. ‘Let me alone’, is the
remarkable saying of God to Moses when Moses was about to intercede for the
children of Israel – the Chaldee version has, ‘Leave off praying’ – (Exodus 32:10).
So long as Abraham asked mercy for Sodom, the Lord went on giving. He never
ceased to give till Abraham ceased to pray. Think of this. Is not this
encouragement?
What more can a man want to lead him to take any step in religion, than
the things I have just told him about prayer? What more could be done to make
the path to the mercy seat easy, and to remove all occasions of stumbling from
the sinner’s way? Surely if the devils in hell had such a door set open before
them, they would leap for gladness and make the very pit ring with joy.
But where will the man hide his head at last who neglects such glorious
encouragement? What can possible be said for the man who, after all, dies
without prayer? Surely I may feel anxious that you should not be that man.
Surely I may well ask – Do you pray?
I ask whether you pray, because diligence
in prayer is the secret of eminent holiness.
Without controversy there is a vast difference among true Christians.
There is an immense interval between the foremost and the hindermost in the
army of God.
They are all fighting the same good fight but how much more valiantly
some fight than others. They are all doing the Lord’s work but how much more
some do than others. They are all light in the Lord; but how much more brightly
some shine than others. They are all running the same race; but how much faster
some get on than others. They all love the same Lord and Saviour; but how much
more some love him than others. I ask any true Christian whether this is not
the case. Are not these things so?
There are some of the Lord’s people who seem never able to get on from the time of their conversion. They are
born again, but they remain babes all their lives. You hear from them the same
old experience. You remark in them the same want of spiritual appetite, the
same want of interest in anything beyond their own little circle, which you
remarked ten years ago. They are pilgrims, indeed, but pilgrims like the
Gibeonites of old; their bread is always dry and mouldy, their shoes always
old, and their garments always rent and torn. I say this with sorrow and grief;
but I ask any real Christian, Is it not true?
There are others of the Lord’s people who seem to be always advancing. They grow like grass
after rain; they increase like Israel in Egypt; they press on like Gideon,
though sometimes faint, yet always pursuing. They are ever adding grace to
grace, and faith to faith, and strength to strength. Every time you meet them
their hearts seem larger, and their spiritual stature taller and stronger.
Every year they appear to see more, and know more, and believe more, and feel
more in their religion. They not only have good works to prove the reality of
their faith, but they are zealous of
them. They not only do well, but they are unwearied
in well-doing. They attempt great things, and they do great thing. When they
fail they try again, and when they fall they are soon up again. And all this
time they think themselves poor, unprofitable servants, and fancy they do
nothing at all. These are those who make religion lovely and beautiful in the
eyes of all. They wrest praise even from the unconverted and win golden
opinions even from the selfish men of the world.
It does one good to see, to be with, and to hear them. When you meet
them, you could believe that like Moses, they had just come out from the
presence of God. When you part with them you feel warmed by their company, as
if your soul had been near a fire. I know such people are rare. I only ask, Are
there not many such?
Now how can we account for the difference which I have just described?
What is the reason that some believers are so much brighter and holier than
others? I believe the difference, in nineteen cases out of twenty, arises from
different habits about private prayer. I believe that those who are not
eminently holy pray little, and those
who are eminently holy pray much.
I dare say this opinion will startle some readers. I have little doubt
that many look on eminent holiness as a kind of special gift, which none but a
few must pretend to aim at. They admire it at a distance in books. They think
it beautiful when they see an example near themselves. But as to its being a
thing within the reach of any but a very few, such a notion never seems to
enter their minds. In short, they consider it a kind of monopoly granted to a
few favoured believers, but certainly not to all.
Now I believe that this is a most dangerous mistake. I believe that
spiritual as well as natural greatness depends in a high degree on the faithful
use of the means within everybody’s reach. Of course I do not say we have a
right to expect a miraculous grant of intellectual gifts; but this I do say,
that when a man is once converted to God, his progress in holiness will be much
in accordance with his own diligence in the use of God’s appointed means. And I
assert confidently that the principal means by which most believers have become
great in the church of Christ is the habit of diligent private prayer.
Look through the lives of the brightest and best of God’s servants,
whether in the Bible or not. See what is written of Moses and David and Daniel
and Paul. Mark what is recorded of Luther and Bradford the Reformers. Observe
what is related of the private devotions of Whitefield and Cecil and Venn and
Bickersteth and M’Cheyne. Tell me of one of all the goodly fellowship of saints
and martyrs, who has not had this mark most prominently – he was a man of prayer. Depend upon it, prayer
is power.
Prayer obtains fresh and continued outpourings of the Spirit. He alone
begins the work of grace in a man’s heart. He alone can carry it forward and
make it prosper. But the good Spirit loves to be entreated. And those who ask
most will have most of his influence.
Prayer is the surest remedy against the devil and besetting sins. That
sin will never stand firm which is heartily prayed against. That devil will
never long keep dominion over us which we beseech the Lord to cast forth. But
then we must spread out all our case before our heavenly Physician, if he is to
give us daily relief.
Do you wish to grow in grace and be a devoted Christian? Be very sure,
if you wish it, you could not have a more important question than this – Do you pray?
I ask whether you pray, because neglect
of prayer is one great cause of backsliding.
There is such a thing as going back in religion after making a good
profession. Men may run well for a season, like the Galatians, and then turn
aside after false teachers. Men may profess loudly while their feelings are
warm, as Peter did, and then in the hour of trial deny their Lord. Men may lose
their first love as the Ephesians did. Men may cool down in their zeal to do
good, like Mark the companion of Paul. Men may follow an apostle for a season,
and like Demas go back to the world. All these things men may do.
It is a miserable thing to be a backslider. Of all unhappy things that
can befall a man, I suppose it is the worst. A stranded ship, a broken-winged
eagle, a garden overrun with weeds, a harp without strings, a church in ruins;
all these are sad sights, but a backslider is a sadder sight still. A wounded
conscience, a mind sick of itself, a memory full of self-reproach, a heart
pierced through with the Lord’s arrows, a spirit broken with a load of inward
accusation; all this is a taste of hell.
It is a hell on earth. Truly that saying of the wise man is solemn and weighty,
‘The backslider in heart shall be filled with his own ways’ (Proverbs 14:14).
Now what is the cause of most backslidings? I believe, as a general
rule, one the of chief causes is neglect of private prayer. Of course the
secret history of falls will not be known till the last day. I can only give my
opinion as a minister of Christ and a student of the heart. That opinion is, I
repeat distinctly, that backsliding generally first begins with neglect of private prayer.
Bibles read without prayer, sermons heard without prayer, marriages
contracted without prayer, journeys undertaken without prayer, residences
chosen without prayer, friendships formed without prayer, the daily act of
private prayer itself hurried over, or gone through without heart: these are
the kind of downward steps by which many a Christian descends to a condition of
spiritual palsy, or reaches the point where God allows him to have a tremendous
fall. This is the process which forms the lingering Lots, the unstable Samsons,
the wife-idolizing Solomons, the inconsistent Asas, the pliable Jehoshaphats,
the over-careful Marthas, of whom so many are to be found in the church of
Christ. Often the simple history of such cases is this: they became careless about private prayer.
You may be very sure that men fall in private prayer before they fall in
public. They are backsliders on their knees long before they backslides openly
in the eyes of the world. Like Peter, they first disregard the Lord’s warning
to watch and pray, and then like Peter, their strength is gone, and in the hour
of temptation they deny their Lord.
The world takes notice of their fall, and scoffs loudly. But the world
knows nothing of the real reason. The heathen succeeded in making a well-known
Christian offer incense to an idol, by threatening him with a punishment worse
than death. They then triumphed greatly at the sight of his cowardice and
apostasy. But the heathen did not know the fact of which history informs us,
that on that very morning he had left his bed chamber hastily, and without
finishing his usual prayers.
If you are a Christian indeed, I trust you will never be a backslider.
But if you do not wish to be a backsliding Christian, remember the question I
ask you: Do you pray?
I ask, lastly, whether you pray, because
prayer is one of the best means of happiness and contentment.
We live in a world where sorrow abounds. This has always been its state
since sin came in. There cannot be sin without sorrow. And until sin is driven
out from the world, it is vain for any one to suppose he can escape sorrow.
Some without doubt have a larger cup of sorrow to drink than others. But
few are to be found who live long without sorrows or cares of one sort or
another. Our bodies, our property, our families, our children, our servants,
our friends, our neighbours, our worldly callings, each and all of these are
fountains of care. Sickness, deaths, losses, disappointments, partings,
separations, ingratitude, slander, all these are common things. We cannot get
through life without them. Some day or other they find us out. The greater are
our affections the deeper are our afflictions, and the more we love the more we
have to weep.
And what is the best means of cheerfulness in such a world as this? How
shall we get through this valley of tears with least pain? I know no better
means than the regular, habitual practice of taking everything to God in prayer. This is the plain advice that
the Bible gives, both in the Old Testament and the New. What says the psalmist?
‘Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt
glorify me’ (Psalm 50:15). ‘Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain
thee: he shall never suffer the righteous to be moved? (Psalm 55:22). What says
the apostle Paul? ‘Be careful for nothing; but in everything, by prayer and
supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known unto God: and
the peace of God, which passeth all understanding shall keep your hearts and
minds through Christ Jesus’ (Philippians 4:6-7). What says the apostle James?
‘Is any afflicted among you? Let him pray’ (James 5:13).
This was the practice of all the saints whose history we have recorded
in the Scriptures. This is what Jacob did when he feared his brother Esau. This
is what Moses did when the people were ready to stone him in the wilderness.
This is what Joshua did when Israel was defeated before the men of Ai. This is
what David did when he was in danger at Keilah. This is what Ezekiah did when
he received the letter from Sennacherib. This is what Paul did when he was cast
into the dungeon at Philippi.
The only way to be rally happy in such a world as this, is to be ever
casting all your cares on God. It is trying to carry their own burdens which so
often make believers sad. If they will tell their troubles to God, he will
enable them to bear them as easily as Samson did the gates of Gaza. If they are
resolved to keep them to themselves, they will find one day that the very
grasshopper is a burden.
There is a friend ever waiting to help us, if we will unbosom to him our
sorrow; a friend who pitied the poor and sick and sorrowful, when he was upon
earth; a friend who knows the heart of man, for he lived thirty-three years as
a man among us; a friend who can weep with the weepers, for he was a man of
sorrows and acquainted with grief; a friend who is able to help us, for there
never was earthly pain he could no cure. That friend is Jesus Christ. The way
to be happy is to be always opening our hearts to him. Oh that we were all like
that poor Christian who only answered, when threatened and punished, ‘I must tell the Lord’.
Jesus can make those happy who trust him and call on him, whatever be
their outward condition. He can give them peace of heart in a prison, contentment
in the midst of poverty, comfort in the midst of bereavements, joy on the brink
of the grave. There is a mighty fullness in him for all his believing members –
a fullness that is ready to be poured out on every one that will ask in prayer.
Oh that men would understand that happiness does not depend on outward
circumstances, but on the state of the heart.
Prayer can lighten crosses for us, however heavy. It can bring down to
our side One who will help us to bear them. Prayer can open a door for us when
our way seems hedged up. It can bring down One who will say, ‘This is the way,
walk in it’. Prayer can let in a ray of hope when all our earthly prospects
seem darkened. It can bring down One who will say, ‘I will never leave thee,
nor forsake thee’, prayer can obtain relief for us when those we love most are
taken away, and the world feels empty. It can bring down One who can fill the
gap in our hearts with himself, and say to the waves within, ‘Peace; be still’.
Oh that men were not so like Hagar in the wilderness, blind to the well of
living waters close beside them.
I want you to be happy. I know I cannot ask you a more useful question
than this: Do you pray?
And now it is high time for me to bring this tract to an end. I trust I
have brought before you things that will be seriously considered. I heartily
pray God that this consideration may be blessed to your soul.
A parting word
Let me speak a parting word to
those who do not pray. I dare not suppose that all who read these pages are
praying people. If you are a prayerless person, suffer me to speak to you this
day on God’s behalf.
Prayerless reader, I can only warn you, but I do warn you most solemnly.
I warn you that you are in a position of fearful danger. If you die in your
present state, you are a lost soul. You will only rise again to be eternally
miserable. I warn you that of all professing Christians you are most utterly
without excuse. There is not a single good reason that you can show for living
without prayer.
It is useless to say you know not
how to pray. Prayer is the simplest act in all religion. It is simply
speaking to god. It needs neither learning nor wisdom nor book knowledge to
begin it. It needs nothing but heart and will. The weakest infant can cry when
he is hungry. The poorest beggar can hold out his hand for alms, and does not
wait to find fine words. The most ignorant man will find something to say to
God, if he has only a mind.
It is useless to say you have no
convenient place to pray in. Any man can find a place private enough, if he
is disposed. Our Lord prayed on a mountain; Peter on the housetop; Isaac in the
field; Nathanael under the fig tree; Jonah in the fish’s belly. Any place may
become a closet, an oratory, and a Bethel, and be to us the presence of God.
It is useless to say you have no
time. There is plenty if time, if men will employ it. Time may be short,
but time is always long enough for prayer. Daniel had the affairs of a kingdom
on his hands, and yet he prayed three time a day. David was ruler over a mighty
nation, and yet he says, ‘Evening and morning and at noon will I pray’ (Psalm
55:17). When time is really wanted, time can always be found.
It is useless to say you cannot
pray till you have faith and a new heart, and that you must sit and wait
for them. This is to add sin to sin. It is bad enough to be unconverted and
going to hell. It is even worse to say, ‘I know it, but will not cry for
mercy’. This is a kind of argument for which there is no warrant in Scripture.
‘Call ye upon the Lord’, saith Isaiah, ‘while he is near’ (Isaiah 55:6). ‘Take
with you words, and turn unto the Lord’, says Hosea (Hosea 14:1). ‘Repent and
pray’, says Peter to Simon Magus (Acts 8:22). If you want faith and a new
heart, go and cry to the Lord for them. The very attempt to pray has often been
the quickening of a dead soul.
Oh, prayerless reader, who and what are you that you will not ask
anything of God? Have you made a covenant with death and hell? Are you at peace
with the worm and the fire? Have you no fear of eternal torment? Have you no
desire after heaven? Oh that you would awake from your present folly. Oh that
you would consider your latter end. Oh that you would arise and call upon God.
Alas, there is a day coming when many shall pray loudly, ‘Lord, Lord,
open to us’, but all too late; when many shall cry to the rocks to fall on them
and the hills to cover them, who would never cry to God. In all affection, I
warn you, beware lest this be the end of your soul. Salvation is very near you.
Do not lose heaven for want of asking.
Let me speak to those who have real desires for salvation, but know not
what steps to take, or where to begin. I cannot but hope that some readers may
be in this sate of mind, and if there be but one such I must offer him
affectionate counsel.
In every journey there must be a first step. There must be a change from
sitting still to moving forward. The journeyings of Israel from Egypt to Canaan
were long and wearisome. Forty years pass away before they crossed Jordan. Yet
there was some one who moved first when they marched from Ramah to Succoth.
When does a man really take his first step in coming out from sin and the
world? He does it in the day when he first prays with his heart.
In every building the first stone must be laid, and the first blow must
be struck. The ark was one hundred and twenty years in building. Yet there was
a day when Noah laid his axe to the first tree he cut down to form it. The
temple of Solomon was a glorious building. But there was a day when the first
huge stone was laid deep in mount Moriah. When does the building of the Spirit
really begin to appear in a man’s heart? It begins, so far as we can judge,
when he first pours out his heart to God in prayer.
If you desire salvation, and want to know what to do, I advise you to go
this very day to the Lord Jesus Christ, in the first private place you can
find, and earnestly and heartily entreat him in prayer to save your soul.
Tell him that you have heard that he receives sinners, and has said,
‘Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out’. Tell him you put yourself
wholly and entirely in his hands; that you feel vile and helpless, and hopeless
in yourself: and that except he saves you, you have no hope of being saved at
all. Beseech him to deliver you from the guilt, the power, and the consequences
of sin. Beseech him to pardon you, and wash you in his own blood. Beseech him
to give you a new heart, and plant the Holy spirit in your soul. Beseech him to
give you grace and faith and will and power to be his disciple and servant from
this day for ever. Oh, reader, go this very day, and tell these things to the
Lord Jesus Christ, if you really are in earnest about your soul.
Tell him in your own way, and your own words. If a doctor came to see
you when sick you could tell him where you felt pain. If your soul feels its
disease indeed, you can surely find something to tell Christ.
Doubt not his willingness to save you, because you are a sinner. It is
Christ’s office to save sinners. He says himself, ‘I came not to call
righteous, but sinners to repentance’ (Luke 5:32).
Wait not because you feel unworthy. Wait for nothing. Wait for nobody.
Waiting comes from the devil. Just as
you are, go to Christ. The worse you are, the more need you have to apply to
Christ. You will never mend yourself by staying away.
Fear not because your prayer is stammering, your words feeble, and your
language poor. Jesus can understand you. Just as a mother understands the first
lispings of her infant, so does the blessed Saviour understand sinners. He can
read a sigh, and see a meaning in a groan.
Despair not because you do not get and answer immediately. While you are
speaking, Jesus is listening. If he delays an answer, it is only for wise
reasons, and to try if you are earnest. The answer will surely come. Though it
tarry, wait for it. It will surely come.
Oh, reader, if you have any desire to be saved, remember the advice I
have given you this day. Act upon it honestly and heartily, and you shall be
saved.
Lastly
Let me speak, lastly, to those who
do pray. I trust that some who read this tract know well what prayer is,
and have the Spirit of adoption. To all such, I offer a few words of brotherly
counsel and exhortation. The incense offered in the tabernacle was ordered to
be made in a particular way. Not every kind of incense would do. Let us
remember this, and be careful about the matter and manner of our prayers.
Brethren who pray, if I know anything of a Christian’s heart, you are
often sick of your own prayers. You never enter into the apostle’s words, ‘When
I would do good, evil is present with me’, so thoroughly as you sometimes do
upon your knees. You can understand David’s words, ‘I have vain thoughts’. You
can sympathize with that poor converted Hottentot who was overheard praying,
‘Lord, deliver me from all my enemies, and above all, from that bad man –
myself’. There are few children of God who do not often find the season of
prayer a season of conflict. The devil has special wrath against us when he
sees us on our knees. Yet, I believe that prayers which cost us no trouble
should be regarded with great suspicion. I believe we are very poor judges of
the goodness of our prayers, and that the prayer which pleases us least, often pleases God most. Suffer me then, as a companion in
the Christian warfare, to offer you a few words of exhortation. One thing, at
least, we all feel: we must pray. We cannot give it up. We must go on.
I commend then to your attention, the importance of reverence and humility in prayer. Let us never forget what we are,
and what a solemn thing it is to speak with God, let us beware of rushing into
his presence with carelessness and levity. Let us say to ourselves: ‘I am on
holy ground. This is no other than the gate of heaven. If I do not mean what I
say, I am trifling with God. If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will
not hear me’. Let us keep in mind the words of Solomon, ‘Be not rash with thy
mouth, and let not thy heart be hasty to utter anything before God; for God is
in heaven, and thou on earth’ (Ecclesiastes 5:2). When Abraham spoke to God, he
said, ‘I am dust and ashes’. When Job spoke to God, he said, ‘I am vile’. Let
us do likewise.
I commend to you the importance of praying spiritually. I mean by that, that we should labour always to have
the direct help of the Spirit in our prayers and beware above all things of
formality. There is nothing so spiritual but that it may become a form, an d
this is specially true of private prayer. We may insensibly get into the habit
of using the fittest possible words, and offering the most scriptural
petitions, and yet do it all by rote without feeling it, and walk daily round
an old beaten path. I desire to touch this point with caution and delicacy. I
know that there are certain great things we daily want, and that there is nothing
necessarily formal in asking for these things in the same words. The world, the
devil, and our hearts, are daily the same. Of necessity we must daily go over
old ground. But this I say, we must be very careful on this point. If the
skeleton and outline of our prayers be by habit almost a form, let us strive
that the clothing and filling up of our prayer be as far as possible of the
Spirit. As to praying out of a book in our private devotions, it is a habit I
cannot praise. If we can tell our doctors the state of our bodies without a
book, we ought to be able to tell the state of our souls to God. I have no
objection to a man using crutches when he is first recovering from a broken
limb. It is better to use crutches than not to walk at all. But if I saw him al
his life on crutches, I should not think it matter for congratulation. I should
like to see him strong enough to throw his crutches away.
I commend to you the importance of making prayer a regular business of life. I might say something of the value of
regular times in the day for prayer. God is a God of order. The hours for
morning and evening sacrifice in the Jewish temple were not fixed as they were
without meaning. Disorder is eminently one of the fruits of sin. But I would
not bring any under bondage. This only I say, that it is essential to your
soul’s health to make praying a part of the business of every twenty four hours
in your life. Just as you allot time to eating, sleeping, and business, so also
allot time to speak with God in the morning, before you speak with the world:
and speak with God at night, after you have done with the world. But settle it
in your minds, that prayer is one of the great things of every day. Do not
drive it into a corner. Do not give it the scraps and parings of your duty.
Whatever else you make a business of, make a business of prayer.
I commend to you the importance of perseverance
in prayer. Once having begun the habit, never give it up. Your heart will
sometimes say, ‘You have had family prayers: what mighty harm if you leave
private prayer undone?’ Your body will sometimes say, ‘You are unwell, or
sleepy, or weary; you need not pray.’ Your mind will sometimes say, ‘You have
important business to attend to today; cut short your prayer’. Look on all such
suggestions as coming direct from Satan. They are all as good as saying,
‘Neglect your soul’. I do not maintain that prayers should always be of the
same length; but I do say, let no excuse make you give up prayer. Paul said,
‘Continue in prayer’, and ‘Pray without ceasing’. He did not mean that men
should be always on their knees, but he did mean that our prayers should be,
like the continual burnt offering, steadily persevered in every day; that it
should be like the seed time and harvest, and summer and winter, unceasingly
coming round at regular seasons; that it should be like the fire on the altar,
not always consuming sacrifices, but never completely going out. Never forget
that you may tie together morning and evening devotions, by and endless chain
of short ejaculatory prayers throughout the day. Even in company, or business,
or in the very streets, you may be silently sending up little winged messengers
to God, as Nehemiah did in the very presence of Artaxerxes. And never think that time is wasted which is given
to God. A nation does not become poorer because it loses one year of
working days in seven, by keeping the Sabbath. A Christian never finds he is a loser, in the long run, by persevering
prayer.
I commend to you the importance of earnestness
in prayer. It is not necessary that a man should shout, or scream, or be very
loud, in order to prove that he is in earnest. But it is desirable that we
should be hearty and fervent and warm, and ask as if we were really interested
in what we are doing. It is the ‘effectual, fervent’ prayer that ‘availeth
much’. This is the lesson that is taught us by the expressions used in
Scripture about prayer. It is called ‘crying, knocking, wrestling, labouring,
striving’. This is the lesson taught us by Scripture examples. Jacob is one. He
said to the angel at Penuel, ‘I will not let thee go, except thou bless me’
(Genesis 32:26). Daniel is another. Hear how he pleaded with God: ‘O Lord, her;
O Lord, forgive; O Lord, hearken and do; defer not, for thine own sake, O my
God’ (Daniel 9:19). Our Lord Jesus Christ is another. It is written of him, ‘In
the days of his flesh, he offered up prayers and supplications with strong
crying and tears’ (Hebrew 5:7). Alas,
how unlike is this to many of our supplications! How tame and lukewarm they
seem by comparison. How truly might God say to many of us, ‘You do not really
want what you pray for’. Let us try to amend this fault. Let us knock loudly at
the door of grace, like Mercy in Pilgrim’s
Progress, as if we must perish unless heard. Let us settle in our minds,
that cold prayers are a sacrifice without fire. Let us remember the story of
Demosthenes the great orator, when one came to him, and wanted him to plead his
cause. He heard him without attention, while he told his story without earnestness.
The man saw this, and cried out with anxiety that it was all true. ‘Ah’, said
Demosthenes, ‘I believe you now’.
I commend to you the importance of praying
with faith. We should endeavour to believe that our prayers are heard, and
that if we ask things according to God’s will, we shall be answered. This is
the plain command of our Lord Jesus Christ: ‘Whatsoever things ye desire, when
ye pray, believe ye receive them and ye shall have them’ (Mark 11:24). Faith is
to prayer what the feather is the arrow: without it prayer will not hit the
mark. We should cultivate the habit of pleading promises in our prayers.
We should take with us some promise, and say, ‘Lord, here is thine own
word pledged. Do for us as thou said’. This was the habit of Jacob and Moses
and David. The 119th Psalm is full of things asked, ‘according to thy word’.
Above all, we should cultivate the habit of expecting answers to our prayers.
We should do like the merchant who sends his ships to sea. We should not be
satisfied, unless we see some return. Alas, there are few points on which
Christians come short so much as this. The church at Jerusalem made prayer
without ceasing for Peter in prison; but when the prayer was answered, they
would hardly believe it (Acts 12:15). It is solemn saying of Traill, ‘There is
no surer mark of trifling in prayer, than when men are careless what they get
by prayer’.
I commend to you the importance of boldness
in prayer. There is an unseemly familiarity in some men’s prayers which I
cannot praise. But there is such a thing as a holy boldness, which is
exceedingly to be desired. I mean such boldness as that of Moses, when he
pleads with God not to destroy Israel. ‘Wherefore’ says he, ‘should the
Egyptians speak and say, For mischief did he bring them out, to slay them out,
to slay them in the mountains? Turn from thy fierce anger’ (Exodus 32:12). I
mean such boldness as that of Joshua, when the children of Israel were defeated
before the men of Ai: ‘What’, says he, ‘wilt thou do unto thy great name?’
(Joshua 7:9). This is the boldness for which Luther was remarkable. One who
heard him praying said, ‘What a spirit, what a confidence was in his very
expressions. With such a reverence he sued, as one begging of God, and yet with
such hope and assurance, as if he spoke with a loving father or friend’. This
is the boldness which distinguished Bruce, a great Scottish divine of the
seventeenth century. His prayers were said to be ‘like bolts shot up into
heaven’. Here also I fear we sadly come short. We do not sufficiently realize
the believer’s privileges. We do not plead as often as we might, ‘Lord are we
not thine own people? Is it not for thy glory that we should be sanctified? Is
it not for thy honour that thy gospel should increase?
I commend to you the importance of fullness
in prayer. I do not forget that our Lord warns us against the example of the
Pharisees, who, for pretence, made long prayers; and commands us when we pray
not to use vain repetitions. But I cannot forget, on the other hand, that he
has given his own sanction to large and long devotions by continuing all night
in prayer to God. At all events, we are not likely in this day to err on the
side of praying too much. Might it
not rather be feared that many believers in this generation pray too little? Is not the actual amount of
time that many Christians give to prayer, in the aggregate, very small? I am
afraid these questions cannot be answered satisfactorily. I am afraid the
private devotions of many are most painfully scanty and limited; just enough to
prove that are alive and no more. They really seem to want little from God.
They seem to have little to confess, little to ask for, and little to thank him
for. Alas, this is altogether wrong. Nothing is more common than to hear
believers complaining that they do not get on. They tell us that they do not
grow in grace as they could desire. Is it not rather to be suspected that many
have quite as much grace as they ask for? Is it not the true account of many,
that they have little, because they ask little? The cause of their weakness is
to be found in their own stunted, dwarfish, clipped, contracted, hurried,
narrow, diminutive prayers. They have
not, because they ask not. Oh, we are not strained in Christ, but in
ourselves. The Lord says, ‘Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it’. But we are
like the King of Israel who smote on the ground thrice and stayed, when he
ought to have smitten five or six times.
I commend to you the importance of particularity
in prayer. We ought not to be content with great general petitions. We ought to
specify our wants before the throne of grace. It should not be enough to
confess we are sinners: we should name the sins of which our conscience tells
us we are most guilty. It should not be enough to ask for holiness; we should
name the graces in which we feel most deficient. It should not be enough to
tell the Lord we are in trouble; we should describe our trouble and all its
peculiarities. This is what Jacob did when he feared his brother Esau. He tells
God exactly what is that he fears (Genesis 32:11). This is what Eliezer did,
when he sought a wife for his master’s son. He spreads before God precisely
what he wants (Genesis 24:12). This is what Paul did when he had a thorn in the
flesh. He besought the Lord (2 Corinthians 12:8). This is true faith and
confidence. We should believe that nothing is too small to be named before God.
What should we think of the patient who told his doctor he was ill, but never
went into particulars? What should we think of the wife who told her husband
she was unhappy, but did not specify the cause? What should we think of the
child who told his father he was in trouble, but nothing more? Christ is the
true Bridegroom of the soul, the true Physician of the heart, the real Father
of all his people. Let us show that we feel this being unreserved in our
communications with him. Let us hide no secrets from him. Let us tell him all
our hearts.
I commend to you the importance of intercession
in our prayers. We are all selfish by nature, and our selfishness is very apt
to stick to us, even when we are converted. There is a tendency in us to think
only of our own souls, our own spiritual conflicts, our own progress in
religion, and to forget others. Against this tendency we all have need to watch
and strive, and not least in our prayers. We should study to be a public
spirit. We should stir ourselves up to name other names besides our own before
the throne of grace. We should try to bear in our hearts the whole world, the
heathen, the Jews, the Roman Catholics, the body of true believers, the
professing Protestant churches, the country in which we live, the congregation
to which we belong, the household in which we sojourn, the friends and
relations we are connected with. For each and all these we should plead. This
is the highest charity. He loves me best
who loves me in his prayers.
This is for our soul’s health. It enlarges our sympathies and expands
our hearts. This is for the benefit of the church. The wheels of all machinery
for extending the gospel are moved by prayer. They do as much for the Lord’s
cause who intercede like Moses on the mount, as they do who fight like Joshua
in the thick of the battle. This is to be like Christ. He bears the names of
his people as their High Priest, before the Father. Oh, the privilege of being
like Jesus! This is to be a true helper to ministers. If I chose a
congregation, give me a people that pray.
I commend to you the importance of thankfulness
in prayer. I know well that asking God is one thing and praising God is another.
But I see so close a connection between prayer and praise in the Bible, that I
dare not call true prayer in which thankfulness has no part. It is not for
nothing that Paul says, ‘By prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let
your requests be made known unto God’ (Philippians 4:6). ‘Continue in prayer,
and watch in the same with thanksgiving’ (Colossians 4:2). It is of mercy that
we are not in hell. It is of mercy that we have the hope of heaven. It is of
mercy that we live in a land of spiritual light. It is of mercy that we have
been called by the Spirit, and not left to reap the fruit of our own ways. It
is of mercy that we still live and have opportunities of glorifying God
actively or passively. Surely these thoughts should crowd on our minds whenever
we speak with God. Surely we should never open our lips in prayer without
blessing God for that free grace by which we live, and for that loving kindness
which endures for ever.
Never was there an eminent saint who was not full of thankfulness. St.
Paul hardly ever writes en epistle without beginning with thankfulness. Men
like Whitefield in the last century, and Bickerteth in our time, abounded in
thankfulness. Oh, reader, if we would be bright and shining lights in our days,
we must cherish a spirit of praise. Let our prayers be thankful prayers.
I commend to you the importance of watchfulness
over your prayers. Prayer is that point in religion at which you must be
most of all on your guard. Here it is
that true religion begins; here it flourishes, and here it decays. Tell me
what a man’s prayers are, and I will soon tell you the state of his souls.
Prayer is the spiritual pulse. By this the spiritual health may be tested.
Prayer is the spiritual weatherglass. By this we may know whether it is fair or
foul with our hearts.
Oh, let us keep an eye continually upon our private devotions. Here is
the pith and marrow of our practical Christianity. Sermons and books and
tracts, and committee meetings and the company of good men, are all good in
their way, but they will never make up for the neglect of private prayer. Mark
well the places and society and companions that unhinge your hearts for
communion with God and make your prayers drive heavily. There be on your guard. Observe narrowly what friends and what
employments leave your soul in the most spiritual frame, and most ready to
speak with God. To these cleave and stick
fast. If you will take care of your prayers, nothing shall go very wrong
with your soul.
I offer these points for your private consideration. I do it in all
humility. I know no one who needs to be reminded of them more than I do myself.
But I believe them to be God’s own truth, and I desire myself and all I love to
feel them more.
I want the times we live in to be praying times. I want the Christians
of our day to be praying Christians. I want the church to be a praying church.
My heart’s desire and prayer in sending forth this tract is to promote a spirit
of prayerfulness. I want those who never prayed yet to arise and call upon God,
and I want those who do pray to see that they are not praying amiss.
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