The
necessary duty of the Christian, as clothed in the Whole Armour of God:
or,
how the Spiritual Panoply may alone be kept furbished.
‘Praying always with
all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watching thereunto
with all perseverance
and supplication for all saints’
(Eph. 6:18).
We
have at last set before you the Christian in his armour; and now he wants
nothing to furnish him for the battle, or enable him for the victory, but the
presence of his general to lead him on, and bring him honourably off again by
the wisdom of his conduct; which, that he may obtain, the apostle sets him to
prayer—‘praying always,’ &c.
As if he had said, ‘You have now, Christian, the armour of God; but take
heed thou forgettest not to engage God of this armour by humble prayer for your
assistance, lest for all this you be worsted in the fight. He that gives you the arms, can only
teach you to use them, and enable you to overcome by their use.’ I am not ignorant that some make this
of ‘prayer,’ a piece of armour, and to be reckoned as a part of the
panoply. The truth is, it matters
not much in what notion we handle it, whether as a distinct piece of armour, or
as a duty and means necessarily required to the use of our armour. The latter I shall follow; partly
because it hath no piece of material armour, as the other all have, allotted to
it for a resemblance; as also, because by the connection it hath, not with the
last preceding words only, but with the whole discourse of the armour, it seems
to be superadded as a general duty influential upon all the pieces forenamed;
and may be read with every piece:—Take the girdle of truth, praying with all
prayer, &c.; having on the breastplate of righteousness, praying with all
prayer, &c., and the same of the rest. The Christian’s armour will rust except it be furbished and
scoured with the oil of prayer.
What the key is to the watch, that [is] prayer to our graces—it winds
them up and sets them agoing. In
the words observe,
FIRST. The duty commanded, ‘prayer;’
with the end for which it is appointed, viz. as a help to all his graces and
means to carry on his war against sin and Satan: BD@F,LP`µ,<@4—‘praying.’
SECOND. A directory for prayer; wherein
we are instructed how to perform this duty in six distinct divisions of the
subject. First. The time for prayer—‘praying always.’ Second.
The kinds and sorts of prayer—‘with all prayer and supplication.’ Third. The inward principle of prayer from
which it must flow—‘in the Spirit.’ Fourth. The
guard to be set about the duty of prayer—‘watching thereunto.’ Fifth. The unwearied constancy to be exercised
in the duty—‘with all perseverance.’ Sixth. The comprehensiveness of the duty, or
persons for whom we are to pray—‘for all saints.’
DIRECTION
XI.—FIRST GENERAL PART.
[The duty commanded, and its connection with the
whole discourse.]
‘Praying’ (Eph. 6:18).
We
begin with the first, the duty in general, together with the connection it hath
with the whole preceding discourse of the armour, implied in the participle BD`F,LP`µ,<@4—‘praying.’ That is, furnish yourselves with the
armour of God, and join prayer to all these graces for you defence against your
spiritual enemies. Let us take the
three following branches of the subject.
First. Prayer as a
necessary duty to the Christian. Second. Why it is so necessary a means,
with our other armour, for our defence.
Third. Satan’s designs
against prayer.
So
that the point deducible from this is—
BRANCH
FIRST.
[Prayer a necessary duty to the Christian
in his
spiritual warfare.]
We
lay down as the point deducible from what we have said the following doctrine.
Doctrine. That prayer is a necessary duty to be performed by the
Christian, and used with all other means in his spiritual warfare. This is the ‘silver trumpet,’ by the sound
of which he is to alarm heaven, and call in God to his succour, Num. 10:9. The
saints’ enemies fall till God riseth; and God stays to be raised by their
prayers. ‘Let God arise, let his
enemies be scattered,’ Ps.
68:1. Prayer, it is a catholic duty, and
means to be made use of in all our affairs and enterprises. What bread and salt
are to our table, that prayer is to the Christian in all his undertakings,
enjoyments, and temptations.
Whatever our meal is, bread and salt are set on the board; and whatever
our condition is, prayer must not be forgot. As we dip all our morsels in salt, and eat them with bread;
so we are to act every grace, season every enjoyment, mingle every duty, and
oppose every temptation, with prayer. It hath been the constant practice
of the saints in all their dangers and straits, whether from enemies within or
without, from sin, devils, or men, to betake themselves tot he throne of grace,
and draw a line of prayer about them; accounting this the only safe posture to
stand in for their defence. When
God called Abraham from Haran into a strange country, where he wandered from
place to place amidst strangers, who could not but have him in some suspicion
—considering the train and retinue he had—and this their suspicion create many
dangers to this holy man from the kings round about, it is observable what
course Abraham takes for his defence.
You shall find in his removes from place to place, the memorable thing
recorded of him is, that ‘he builded an altar unto the Lord, and called upon
the name of the Lord,’ Gen.
12:7, 8; 13:3, 4. This was the breastwork he raised and
entrenched himself in. When he had
once by prayer cast himself into the arms of God for protection, then he made
account that he was in his castle.
But what need Abraham have put himself so often to this trouble? Had he not the security of God’s
promise when he set forth, that God would bless them that blessed him, and
curse them that cursed him? And
had he not faith to believe God would be a God of his word to perform what he
had promised? We confess both. But
neither God’s promise, nor Abraham’s faith thereon, gave any supersedeas[1] to his duty
in prayer. The promise is given as
a ground of faith, and faith as an encouraging help in prayer; but neither
[are] intended to discharge us of our duty, and save us the labour of that
work.
And
what Abraham did, the same have all the saints ever done. The great spoils which they ever got
from their enemies was in the field of prayer. If Moses sent Joshua into the valley against Amalek, himself
will be on the mount to storm heaven by his prayer, while he is engaged
in fight with the enemy below; and the victory it is plain was not got by
Joshua’s sword, so much as Moses’ prayer.
Jehoshaphat, when he had near a million of men mustered for the field,
besides his garrisons that were all well appointed, yet we find him as hard at
prayer as if he had not had a man on his side: ‘We know not what to do, but our
eyes upon thee,’ II
Chr. 20:12. Now if these worthies when they had but
flesh and blood—men like themselves—to contest with, did yet fetch in their
help from heaven, and make such use of prayer’s auxiliary force—and that when
other helps were not wanting—lest they should be found under the neglect of an
indispensable duty and prevalent means in order to their defence, how much more
doth it behove the Christian, both in point of duty and prudence, to take the
same course in his spiritual war against principalities and powers! For the saint’s graces, when best
trained and exercised, are, without prayer, far less able to stand against
Satan than they, with their military preparation, were to repel the force of
men like themselves. ‘Watch and
pray,’ saith our Saviour, ‘that ye enter not into temptation,’ Matt. 26:41. The not keeping this pass gave the
enemy Satan a fair occasion to come in upon them. For we see, not taking Christ's counsel, they were all,
though holy men, shamefully foiled.
Most of them shifted for themselves by a cowardly flight, while they
left their Lord in his enemy's hands.
And he that thought to show more courage than his fellows, at last came
off with deeper guilt and shame than them all, by denying his Master, who was
even then owning him in the face of death, yea his Father’s wrath. And it is observable that, as they were
led into temptation through their own neglect of prayer, so they were rescued and
led out of it again by Christ’s prayer, which he mercifully laid in beforehand
for them. ‘I have prayed...that
thy faith fail not,’ Luke
22:32.
But
that which above all commends this duty to us, is Christ’s own practice; who,
besides his constant exercise in it, did, upon any great undertaking wherein
he was to meet opposition from Satan and his instruments, much more abound in
it. At his baptism, being now to
enter the stage of his public ministry, and to make his way thereunto through
the fierce and furious assaults of Satan—with whom he was to grapple as it were
hand to hand after his forty days’ solitude—we find him at prayer, Luke 3:21. Which prayer had a present answer,
heaven opening, and the Spirit descending on him, with this voice, saying,
‘Thou art my beloved Son; in thee I am well pleased,’ ver. 22. And now Christ marcheth forth
undauntedly to meet his enemy, who waited for him in the wilderness. Again, when he intended to commission
his apostles, and send them forth to preach the gospel —which he knew would
bring the lion fell and mad out of his den, as also derive the world’s wrath
upon those his messengers—he first sets his disciples on praying, Matt. 9:38, and then
spends the whole night himself in the same work before their mission, Luke 6:12. But above all, when he was to fight his
last battle with the prince of this world, and also conflict with the wrath of
his Father, now armed against him, and ready to be poured upon him for man’s
sin—whose cause he had espoused—on the success of which great undertaking
depended the saving or losing his mediatory kingdom, O how then did he bestir
himself in prayer! It is said, ‘He prayed more earnestly.’ As a wrestler that strains every vein
in his body, so he put forth his whole might, ‘with strong crying and tears
unto him that was able to save him from death, and was heard,’ Heb. 5:7, so that he
won the field, though himself slain upon the place. The spoils of this glorious victory believers do now
divide, and shall enjoy it to all eternity. And what is the English of all this, but to show us both the
necessity and prevalency of prayer?
Without this, no victory to be had, though we have our armour; but this,
with that, will make us conquerors over all.
BRANCH SECOND.
[Why
prayer is necessary to the Christian
in his
spiritual warfare.]
Now,
to proceed and show why prayer is so necessary a means with our other armour
for our defence, let us set forth these reasons in order. First.
Because of the co‑ordination of this duty with all other means for the
Christian’s defence, and that by divine appointment. Second. Because
of the influence that prayer hath upon all our graces. Third.
Because of the great prevalency prayer hath with God.
[The co‑ordination of prayer with
other means for
the Christian’s
defence makes it necessary.]
Reason First. The first reason is taken from the co-ordination of this
duty of prayer with all other means for the Christian’s defence, and that by
divine appointment. He that
bids us take the girdle of truth, breastplate of righteousness, &c.,
commands also not to neglect this duty.
Now what God joins we must not sever. The efficacy of co‑ordinate means lies in their
conjunction. The force of an army
consists not in this troop, or that one regiment, but in all the parts in a
body. And if any single troop or
company shall presume to fight the enemy alone, what can they expect but to be
routed by the enemy and punished by their general also? Let not any say they use this means and
that. If any one duty be willingly
neglected, the golden chain of obedience is broke. And bonum non nisi ex integris—nothing is really good
that is not so in all its parts.
As to a good action, there is required a concurrence of all the several
ingredients and causes; so to make a good Christian, there is required a
conscientious care to use all appointed means. He must follow the Lord ‘fully;’ not make here a balk
and there a furrow. It is not the
least of Satan's policy to get between one duty and another, that the man may
not unite his forces, and be uniform in his endeavour.
Few
so bad as to use no means; and not many so faithful to God and themselves as
conscientiously to use all. One,
he pretends to sincerity, and dares appeal to God that he means well, and his
heart is good. But, for ‘the
breastplate of righteousness,’ it is too heavy and cumbersome for him to
wear. Another seems very just and
righteous, so that he would not wrong his neighbour, no, not of one penny, to
gain many pounds. But, as for
faith in Christ, this he never looks after. A third boasts of his faith and hope, as if he did not doubt
of his salvation. But, as for the
word of God that should beget and increase it, he cares not how seldom he looks
on it at home,or hears it in the public.
And a fourth, he hath this to say for himself, ‘That he is a constant
hearer, his seat at church is seldom found empty, and at home the Bible often
in his hands.’ But, as for prayer,
his closet, could it speak, would bear witness against him, that he seldom or
never performs it. This half doing
will prove many a soul’s whole undoing.
Samuel asked Jesse, ‘Are here all thy children?’ Though but a stripling wanting, he must
be sent for before he will sit down.
So may I say to many that are very busy and forward in some particular
duties and means, ‘Is here all that God hath given thee in charge?’ If but one be wanting, God's blessing
will be wanting also. And as that son was wanting of Jesse’s which God did
intend to set the crown upon, so that duty and means which is most neglected,
we have cause to think is the means which God would especially crown with his
blessing upon our faithful endeavour.
[The
influence of prayer
upon Christian
graces makes it a
necessary duty.]
Reason Second. The second reason is taken from the influence that prayer
hath upon all our graces. And
that in a double respect. It will
help to evidence the truth of grace, and also advance its growth.
First. The duty of prayer, frequently and
spiritually performed, will be a means to evidence the truth of our graces. And this is of no small importance to
the Christian, when he hath to do with the tempter. For that which he mainly
drives at, is to bring the Christian into a suspicion of himself as to the work
of grace in him, thereby to overturn the very foundation of his hope, and put
him to a stand in his endeavours. He, indeed, will have little list to go on
that fears he is not in his right way.
I have heard that politicians can make use of a state lie—though the
credit of it lasts but a little while—for great advantage to their
designs. And he that learns them
this art makes much more use of it himself to further his designs against the
Christian. Because he could not
keep Christ in the grave, therefore he raiseth a lie, to hinder the belief of his
resurrection in the world. And when he cannot hinder the production of grace,
he misreports the work of the Christian, as if all were but a cheat put upon
him by his own deceitful heart; which the poor creature is prone enough, God
knows, to believe. And so, though
the fear be false and groundless; yet, being believed, [it] produceth as sad a
confusion to his thoughts, and distress to his spirit, as if it were true. Jacob could not have mourned more if
Joseph had indeed been slain, than he did when there was no such matter. Nor could a wicked wretch easily endure
more terror and horror than some precious saints have felt, for the time that
Satan's false report—slandering the truth of their grace—hath found credit with
them. Now, in prayer, the Christian
stands at great advantage to find out the truth of his state, and that upon a
double account.
1.
God doth commonly take this season, when his people are pouring out their souls
to him, to open his heart to them, and to give his testimony both to their
persons and graces. God hath
his sealing hours, in which his Spirit comes and bears witness to his
children's state and grace. And
this of prayer is a principal one.
Where was it that God so marvellously dignified, and if I may so say,
knighted Jacob with that new title of honour, ‘Thou shalt be called Israel,’
but in the field of prayer? What
was the happy hour in which the angel knocked at Daniel’s door to let him know
how God loved him? was it not when he was knocking at heaven door by his
prayer? ‘At the beginning of thy
supplications the commandment came forth, and I am come to shew thee; for thou
art greatly beloved,’ Dan.
9:23. When got the woman of Canaan the sight
of her faith, not only that it was true, but also strong—‘O woman, great is thy
faith!’ but when her heart was carried forth so vehemently in prayer? Yea, Christ himself heard that
miraculous voice from heaven, ‘This is my beloved Son,’ when he was lifting up
his eyes in prayer to heaven, Luke 3:21.
2.
The duty of prayer affords a demonstrative argument for the truth of that
soul’s grace which spiritually performs it. The Spirit of God, when he testifies to the truth of a
saint’s grace, useth to join issue with the saint's own spirit, ‘The Spirit
itself beareth witness with our spirit,’ Rom. 8:16. Now the testimony which the Christian's own spirit gives for
him, is taken from those vital acts of the new creature that operate in
him—such as sincerity, godly sorrow for sin, love of holiness, and other of
this nature are. Now, no way do these and other graces more sensibly discover
themselves to the Christian’s view than in prayer. Here sincerity shows itself in the Christians’ plain‑heartedness
to confess all his sins freely, without extorting, and nakedly,
without extenuation or reservation—when there is no false box in the cabinet of
the soul to lock up a darling sin in.
Holy David, Ps.
32,
having, ver.
1,
pronounced him ‘blessed’ that had no sin imputed to him, and, ‘in whose spirit
there is no guile,’ gives ver.
5,
this instance of his own sincerity, that he ‘acknowledged his sin, and did not
hide his iniquity;’ as also how well he sped thereby, ‘And thou forgavest the
iniquity of my sin.’ Again, here [i.e.
in prayer] doth the Christian give vent to his heart, aching with inward grief
for sin. Prayer is the channel
into which godly sorrow pours forth itself, and runs down in brinish tears,
while the Christian is accusing himself of, and judging himself for, his
abominations, with deep shame and self‑abhorrency. In a word, here the soul’s
love to holiness flames forth in his fervent vehement desires and requests for
grace that can bear no denial, but even breaks for the longing it hath to it.
Thus
we see spirit of prayer is both an argument of true grace, and a means to draw
out that true grace into act, whereby its truth may be the better exposed to
view. A ‘spirit of grace and of
supplications’ are both joined together, Zech. 12:10. The latter doth indicate the former. What is prayer but the breathing forth
of that grace which is breathed into the soul by the Holy Spirit? When God breathed into man the breath
of life, he became a living soul.
So, when God breathes into the creature the breath of spiritual life, it
becomes a praying soul. ‘Behold he
prayeth,’ saith God of Paul to Ananias, Acts 9:11. As if he had said, ‘Be not afraid of him; he is an honest
soul; thou mayest trust him for he prays.’ Praying is the same to the new creature as crying is to the
natural. The child is not learned
by art or example to cry, but instructed by nature; it comes into the world
crying. Praying is not a lesson
got by forms and rules of art, but flowing from principles of new life itself.
Second. The duty of prayer, as it is a means to
evidence, so to increase, grace.
The praying Christian is the thriving Christian; whereas he that is
infrequent or slothful in praying, is a waster. He is like one that lives at great expense, and drives
little or no trade to bring wherewithal to maintain it. Now prayer helps toward the increase
and growth of grace in these two ways:—1. As it draws the habits of grace into
act, and exerciseth them. 2. As it
sets the soul nigh to God.
1. As it draws the habits of grace into
act, and exerciseth them. Now
as exercise brings a double benefit to the body, so this to the soul.
(1.)
Exercise doth help to digest or breathe forth those humours that clog the
spirits. One that stirs
little, we see, grows pursy, and is soon choked up with phlegm, which exercise
clears the body of. Prayer is the
saint’s exercise‑field, where his graces are breathed. It is as the wind to the air to sweep
the soul; as bellows to the fire, which clears the coals of those ashes that
smother them. The Christian, while
in this world, lives but in an unwholesome climate. One while the delights of
it deaden and dull his love to Christ; another while, the troubles he meets in
it damp his faith on the promise.
How now should the poor Christian get out of these his distempers, had
he not a throne of grace to resort to, where, if once his soul be in a melting
frame, he, like one laid in a kingly sweat, soon breathes out the malignity of
his disease, and comes into his right temper again. How oft do we find the holy prophet, when he first kneels
down to pray, full of fears and doubts, who yet before he and the duty part,
grows into a sweet familiarity with God and repose in his own spirit? He begins his prayer, as if it were
come to that pass that he thought that God would never give him a kind look
more: ‘How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever?’ Ps. 13:1. But by that time he hath exercised
himself a little in duty, his distemper wears off, the mists scatter, and his
faith breaks out as the sun in its strength. ‘I have trusted in thy mercy; my
heart shall rejoice in thy salvation, I will sing unto the Lord,’ ver. 5. Thus his faith lays the cloth,
expecting a feast ere long to be set on.
He that even now questioned whether he should ever hear good news from
heaven, is so strong in faith, as to make himself merry with the hopes of that
mercy which he is assured will come at last. Abraham began with fifty, but his
faith got ground on God every step, till he brought down the price of their
lives to ten.
(2.)
Exercise whets the appetite to that food which must be taken before strength
can be got. And causa causĉ est causa causati—the remoter cause of
an immediate one is, in a certain sense, the cause of that which flows
as an effect from the more immediate.
The hone that sets the edge on the husbandman’s scythe, helps him to
mow the grass. None comes so sharp‑set
to the word—which is the saint’s food to strengthen his grace—as the Christian
that takes prayer in his way to the ordinance. The stronger natural heat is, the better stomach the man
hath to his meat. Love in the soul
is what natural heat is in the body.
The more the soul loves the word, the more craving it has after it. Now, as exercise stirs up the natural
heat of the body, so prayer excites this spiritual heat of love in the saint’s
bosom to the word. Cornelius is an
excellent instance for it. We find him hard at prayer in his house, when behold
a vision that bids him send for Peter, who should preach the gospel to him—a
happy reward for his devotion!
Now, see what a sharp appetite this praying soul hath to the word. He upon this presently posts away
messengers for Peter, and before he comes, gathers an assembly together—no
doubt all of his friends that he could get. There he sits with a longing heart waiting for the
preacher. As soon as ever he sees
his face, he falls down at his feet, receiving him with that reverence and
respect as if he had been an angel dropped out of heaven. Presently he sets Peter to work, though
some may think he passed good manners in putting him to labour after so long a
journey, before he had refreshed him with some collation or other; but the good
man was so hungry to hear the message he brought, that he could not well pacify
his soul to stay any longer, and like a man truly hunger-bit, he is ready to
catch at any truth—though never so bitter—which shall be set before him. ‘Now therefore are we all here present
before God, to hear all things that are commanded thee of God,’ Acts 10:33. And when the sermon is done, so savoury
and sweet was the meal, that he is loath to think of parting with Peter before
he gets more from him; and therefore beseeches him to stay some days with
him. One sermon did but make his
teeth water for another. O how
unlike are they who come reeking out of the world to a sermon, to Cornelius
that riseth from prayer to wait for the preacher?
2. Prayer helps our graces, as it sets
the soul nigh to God. In
prayer we are said to ‘draw nigh to God,’ James 4:8—to ‘come before his presence,’ Ps. 95:2. In it we
have ‘access by one spirit unto the Father,’ Eph. 2:18, as one that brings a petition to a
prince is called into his presence‑chamber—one of the nearest approaches to God
which the creature is capable of on this side heaven, which was signified by
the incense altar, that stood so high even within the vail. Prayer, it is
called, ‘The throne of grace.’ We
come in prayer to the throne of God, and put our petition into the very hand of
God, as he sits on his throne in all his royalty. Now, as prayer is so near an approach to God, it hath a
double influence into the growth of the saint’s grace.
(1.)
By this near access to God, the soul is put the more into a holy awe and
fear of that pure and piercing eye of God which he sees looking on him. It is true, God is ever near us. Pray or not pray, we cannot rid
ourselves of his presence. But
never hath the soul such apprehensions of his presence as when it is set before
God in prayer. Now the soul speaks
to God as it were mouth to mouth; and considering how holy that majesty is with
whom he hath to do in prayer, he must needs reverence and tremble before
him. Now the natural issue of this
holy fear, what can it be but a care to approve itself to God? And this care cherishes every
grace. They are carried in its
arms, as the child in its nurse's.
It keeps the girdle of truth buckled close about his loins. ‘O,’ saith the soul, ‘I must either
leave praying, or leave doubling and juggling with God by hypocrisy!’ It will strengthen the breastplate of
holiness. It is not possible that
a Christian should walk loosely all day, and be free and familiar with God at
night. He that waits on the person
of a prince will be careful to carry nothing about him that should be offensive
to his eye; yea, afraid lest anything should come to his ear, that should bring
him under a cloud in his prince’s thoughts, and remove him from his place about
him. And courtiers have those that will be always undermining then if they
can; and the Christian wants not such an adversary—for Satan is at his right
hand at every miscarriage to accuse him unto God, saying, ‘This is your
favourite. Though he be so devout
in prayer, he can do this or that, when the duty is over.’ And therefore, if
any in the world have a tie upon them more than others to walk exactly, it is
they that minister before the Lord in this duty. Princes are more curious of their attendants than of others
at further distance from them.
When David showed some distraction of mind before king Achish, he bids
away with him. ‘Have I need of
madmen, that ye have brought this fellow to play the madman in my
presence?’ And does a poor mortal
man that sits on a throne of dust, only heaped up and raised a little above his
fellows, take such state on him as not to bear the discomposure of any before
him? How much less will the great
God—though we wink for a time at the foul sins of others—brook any unholy
behaviour in those that wait so nigh upon him! This, no doubt, made Cain run so fast from the presence of
God, because he knew that it was no standing so nigh God with such an unholy
heart as he carried in his bosom.
(2.)
By the soul’s near access to God in prayer, it receives sweet influences of
grace from him. All grace
comes from the God of grace; not only the first seed of grace, but its growth
and increment; and God usually sheds forth his grace in a way of communion with
his people. Now, by prayer the
Christian is led into most intimate communion with God. And from communion follows communication. As the warmth the chicken finds by
sitting under the hen’s wings cherisheth it, so are the saints' graces
enlivened and strengthened by the sweet influences they receive from this close
communion with God. The Christian
is compared to a tree, Ps.
1. And those trees flourish most, and bear
sweetest fruit, which stand most in the sun. The praying Christian is, as they say of the Rhodians, in
sole positus—placed in the sun.
He stands nigh to God, and hath, God nigh to him in all that he calls
upon him for. And therefore you
may expect his fruit to be sweet and ripe, when another stands as it were in
the shade, and at a distance from God (through neglect of, or infrequency in,
this duty), will have little fruit found on his branches, and that but green
and sour. ‘Those that be planted
in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God. They shall still bring forth fruit in
old age; they shall be fat and flourishing,’ Ps. 92:13, 14.
[The
prevalency of prayer
with God
makes it a necessary
duty.]
Reason Third. The third reason the Christian should join prayer to all
other means, is taken from the great prevalency prayer hath with God. He will do no great matter for a saint
without prayer, and nothing is too great for him to do at his request. Prayer,
like Jonathan’s bow, when duly qualified as to the person and act, never
returns empty. Never was faithful
prayer lost at sea. No merchant
trades with such certainty as the praying saint. Some prayers indeed have a longer voyage than others; but
then they come with the richer lading at last into the port. In trading, he
gets most by his commodity that can forbear his money longest. So does the Christian that can with
most patience stay for a return of his prayer. Such a soul shall never be
ashamed of his waiting. The promise is an assuring office to secure him his
adventure, I
John 3:22. O who can express the powerful oratory
of a believer's prayer! Vocula
Pater formaliter dicta in corde, est eloquentia, quam Demosthenes, Cicero, et
eloquentissimi in mundo nunquam possunt exprimere (Luther)—this little
word Father, lisped forth in prayer by a child of God, exceeds the eloquence of
Demosthenes, Cicero, and all other so famed orators in the world.
We
read of taking heaven ‘by force,’ Matt. 11:12. If ever this may be said to be done it is in prayer. Cĉlum
tundimus et misericordiam extorquemus, saith Tertullian—we knock at heaven,
and the merciful heart of God flies open, which we bring away with us. And in the same apology he speaks of
Christians, how they went to pray, as an enemy doth to besiege a town, and
take it by storm—coimus in coetum et congregationem, ut ad Deum quasi
manufactuâ prĉcationibus ambiamus orantes. And then he adds, hĉc vis Deo grata est—this holy violence
we offer to God in prayer is very pleasing to him. Surely, if it were not, he would neither help the Christian
so in the work, nor reward him for it when it is done. Whereas he doth both. He helped Jacob to overcome: ‘By his strength
he had power with God,’ Hosea
12:3. That is, not by his own, but by the
strength he had from God. And then
he puts honour upon him for the victory, ‘Thy name shall be called no more
Jacob, but Israel: for as a prince hast thou power with God and with men, and
hast prevailed,’ Gen.
32:28. It were easy here to expatiate into a
large history of the great exploits which prayer is renowned for in holy
writ. James 5:17; Isa. 37;
Dan 2:18; II Sam. 15:31; Est. 4:16; Acts 12:5; John 11:41; Jonah 2:2; Joshua
10:12, 14; II Kings 20:10; Ps. 106:23; Eze. 22:30. This is the key that hath opened and again shut heaven. It hath vanquished mighty armies,
and unlocked such secrets as passed the skill of the very devil himself
to find out. It hath strangled desperate
plots in the very womb wherein they were conceived, and made those engines
of cruelty prepared against the saints recoil upon the inventors of them; so
that they have inherited the gallows which they did set up for others. At the knock of prayer, prison doors
have opened, the grave hath delivered up its dead; and the sea’s
leviathan, not able to digest his prey, hath been made to vomit it up
again. It hath stopped he sun’s
chariot in the heavens, yea made it go back. And that which surpasseth all, it hath taken hold of the
Almighty, when on his full march against persons and people, and hath put
him into a merciful retreat.
Indeed, by the power prayer hath with God, it comes to prevail over all
the rest.
He
that hath a key to God’s heart cannot be shut out, or stopped at the creature’s
door. Now prayer moves God and
overcomes him, not by causing any change in the divine will, and making God to
take up new thoughts of doing that for his people which he did not before
intend. No, God is immutable, and
what good he doth in time for his people he purposed before any time was. But prayer is said to more than
overcome God; because he then gives, what from eternity he purposed to give
upon their praying to him. For when God decreed what he would do for his
saints, he also purposed that they should pray for the same. ‘I will yet for this be enquired of by
the house of Israel, to do it for them,’ Eze. 36:37. Prayer’s midwifery shall be used to deliver the mercies God
purposeth and promiseth. Hezekiah
understood this when he calls the prophet to the church’s labour, and bids
because ‘the children’—that is, deliverance —stuck in her birth, that he should
therefore ‘lift up a prayer,’ Isa. 37:3, 4.
And when Daniel had found the full reckoning of the promise—how long it
had to go with the deliverance promised for their return from captivity—perceiving
it hastened, he therefore falls hard to prayer, knowing God's purpose to give
doth not discharge us from our duty to ‘ask,’ Dan. 9:3.
[Why Christians are
to pray for what God
hath purposed and
promised to give.]
Question. But why doth God impose this upon the
saints, that they should pray for what he hath purposed and promised to
give? First. That they may
be conformable to Christ. Second.
That he may give the good things of the promise with safety to his honour. Third. To show the great delight
he takes in his saints’ prayers.
Answer
First. That they may be
conformable to Christ. The
design of God is to make every saint like Christ. This was resolved from eternity Rom. 8:29. Now, as
the limner looks on the person whose picture he would take, and draws his lines
to answer him with the nearest similitude that may be; so doth God look on
Christ as the archetype to which he will conform the saint, in suffering, in
grace, and in glory: yet so that Christ hath the pre-eminence in all. Every saint must suffer because Christ
suffered: Christ must not have a delicate body under a crucified head. Yet never any suffered, or could, what
he endured. Christ is holy, and
therefore shall every saint be, but in an inferior degree. An image cut in clay cannot be so exact
as that which is engraved on gold.
Now, as in other things, so in this our conformity to Christ
appears—that as the promises made to him were performed on his prayer to his
Father, so promises made to his saints are given to them in the same way of
prayer. ‘Ask of me,’ saith God to
his Son, ‘and I shall give thee,’ Ps. 2:8. And the apostle tells us, ‘Ye have not because ye ask
not.’ God had promised support to
Christ in all his conflicts: ‘Behold my servant, whom I uphold,’ Isa. 42:1. Yet he prays ‘with strong crying and
tears,’ when his feet stood within the shadow of death. A seed is promised to him, and victory
over his enemies; yet, for both these, he is at prayer now in heaven. Christ towards us acts as a king, but
towards his Father as a priest.
All he speaks to God is on his knee by prayer and intercession. In like manner the saints. The promise
makes them kings over their lusts, conquerors over their enemies; but it makes
them priests towards God, by prayer humbly to sue out those great things given
in the promise.
Answer
Second. That God may give
the good things of the promise with safety to his honour. Secure God but
his glory, and the saint may have what he will. The very life of God is bound up in his glory. The creature’s honour is not
intrinsical to his being. A prince
is a man when his crown and kingdom are gone. But God cannot be a God, except he be glorious; neither can
he be glorious, unless he be holy, just, merciful, and faithful, &c. Now, that this his glory may be seen
and displayed, is the great end he propounds both in making and ordering of the
world: ‘The Lord hath made all things for himself,’ Prov. 16:4. If there were any one occurrence in
the world which could no way be reducible to the glory of God, it would make
the being of a deity to be questioned.
But the all‑wise God hath so made, and doth so order, all his creatures
with their actions, that the manifestation of his glory is the result of
all. Indeed, he forceth it from
some, and takes it by distress, as princes do their taxes from disobedient
subjects. Thus the very wrath of his enemies shall praise him, Ps. 76:10. But he expects the saints should be
active instruments to glorify him, and, like loyal loving subjects, pay him the
tribute of his praise freely, with acclamations of joy and gratitude; which,
that they may do, he issueth out his mercies in such a way as may best suit
with this their duty. And that is
to give the good things he hath purposed and promised to them upon their humble
address in prayer to him. Now two ways the glory of God is secured by this
means.
1.
The saint, in the very duty of prayer—when he performs it in a qualified
manner—doth highly glorify God.
Prayer, as it is medium gratiĉ—a channel of grace, for the
conveying and deriving blessings from God, the fountain, into the cistern of
our bosoms; so it is medium cultus—a means of worship, whereby we are to
do homage to God, and give him the glory of his deity. By this we give him ‘the glory of
his power.’ Prayer is a humble
appeal from our impotency to God’s omnipotence. None begs that at another’s door which he can pleasure
himself with at home. And if we
thought not God able, we would go to another, not to him. We give him the glory of his sovereignty
and dominion and acknowledge that he is not only able to procure for us what we
ask, but can give us a right to, and the blessing of, what he gives. Therefore
Christ closeth his prayer with, ‘Thine is the kingdom, the power, and the
glory,’ &c., as a reason why we direct our prayers to God; because he alone
is the sovereign Lord that can invest us in, and give us title to, any
enjoyment. So that it is high
treason against the crown and dignity of God, when we wither attempt to possess
ourselves of any enjoyments without praying to him; or when we pray
religiously to any other besides him.
By the first we usurp his sovereignty ourselves, in their language, ‘We
are lords; we will come no more unto thee,’ Jer. 2:31. And by the second we give away his kingdom and sovereignty
to another. This was the devil’s
drift when he would have had Christ fall down and worship him, that thereby he
might acknowledge him to have the rule of the world. Again, by prayer give him the glory of his free mercy. Men demand a debt, but beg an alms.
When we pray we renounce merit.
See them opposed, ‘Whom, though I were righteous, yet would I not
answer, but I would make supplication to my judge,’ Job 9:15. We might show the same in all the other
attributes. But this taste from a
few may suffice. And as God,
essentially considered, receives by prayer an acknowledgement of his deity; so
every person in the sacred Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, in prayer are
honoured. By directing our prayers
to God the Father, we honour him as the source and fountain of all grace and
mercy. We honour the Son in
presenting our prayers in his name to the Father, thereby acknowledging him the
purchaser of the mercies we beg.
And the Holy Ghost, he receives the honour of that assistance which we
acknowledge to receive from him for the duty of prayer. For as we pray to
the Father through the Son, so by the help of the Spirit.
2.
As God is honoured in the very act and exercise of his duty duly qualified, so by
it the Christian is deeply engaged, and also sweetly disposed, to praise God
for, and glorify him with, the mercies he obtains by prayer.
(1.)
Prayer engageth to praise God because of his mercies. In prayer we do not only beg mercy of
God, but vow praise to God for the mercies we beg. Prayers are called ‘vows,’ ‘Thou, O God, hast heard my
vows;’ Ps.
61:5;
that is, my prayers, in which I solemnly vowed praise for the deliverance I
begged. It is no prayer where no
vow is included. We must not think
to bind God and leave ourselves free.
God ties himself in the promise to help us; but the condition of the obligation
on our part, is, that we will glorify him. And upon no other terms doth God give us leave to ask any
mercy at his hands. ‘Call upon me
in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me,’ Ps. 50:15. Now, what a strong tie doth this lay
upon the praying Christian’s heart, to use the mercies he receives holily, and
to wear with thankfulness what he wins by prayer! The Christian who would be loath to be taken in a lie to
man, will much more fear to be found a liar to God. ‘Surely they are my people,’ saith God; ‘children that will
not lie; so he was their Saviour,’ Isa. 63:8.
(2.)
Prayer is a means to dispose the heart to praise. Prayer and praise, like the symbolical
qualities in the elements, are soon resolved each into the other. When David begins a psalm with prayer,
he commonly ends it with praise.
From whence things have their original, thither they return. From the sea the riverwater comes, and
no mountains can hinder, but back again to the sea it will go. That spirit which leads the soul out of
itself to God for supply, will direct it to the same God with his praise. We do not use to borrow money of one
man and pay it to another. If God
hath been thy ‘strength,’ surely thou wilt make him thy ‘song.’ The thief comes not to thank a man for
what he steals out of his yard.
And I as little wonder that they do not glorify God for or with his
mercies, who did not ask his leave by prayer for them. What men do by themselves they ascribe
to themselves. Mercies ill got are
commonly as ill spent: because they are not sanctified to them, and so become
fuel to feed their lusts. Hence it
is, the more enjoyments they have the more proud and unthankful they are. But by prayer the Christian’s
enjoyments are sanctified, and the flatulency of them, which puffs up others
into pride, is corrected; and the same mercies received by prayer, become nourishment
to the saints' graces, that putrefy and turn to noisome lusts in the prayerless
sinner.
Answer
Third. God will have his
people pray for what he hath purposed and promised, to show the great
delight he takes in their prayers.
As a father, though he can send to his son who lives abroad the money he
hath promised for his maintenance, yet let him not have it except he comes over
at set times for it. And why? Not to trouble his son, but delight himself
in his son’s company. God takes
such content in the company of his praying saints, that to prevent all
strangeness on their part, he orders it so that they cannot neglect a duty but
they shall lose something by it.
‘Ye have not, because ye ask not.’
And the more they abound in prayer the more they shall with blessings. The oftener Joash had ‘smote upon the
ground,’ the fuller his victory over Syria had been. As the arrows of prayer are that we shoot to heaven, so
will the returns of mercy from thence be.
Yet must it not be imputed to any loathness in God to give, that he
makes them pray often and long before the mercy comes, but rather to the
content he takes in our prayers.
He doth all this on a design to draw out the graces of his Spirit in his
children, the voice and language of which in prayer makes most sweet melody in
the ear of God. The truth is, we
are in this too like musicians playing under our window; they play while the
money is thrown out to them, and then their pipes are put up. And were our wants so supplied by the
answer of one prayer, that we did not suddenly need a new recruit, we would be
gone, and God should not hear of us in haste.
USE OR
APPLICATION.
[Reproof to
prayerless souls,
with the dismal state
of such.]
Use
First. A word to those who
live in the total neglect of this duty, that are prayerless creatures. Such
ruins of mankind there are to be found, who pass their wretched days like so
many swine; they never look up to heaven till God lays them on their back; nor
are heard to cry in prayer till this knife is at their throat. What shall I say to these giants and
sons of the earth, that have renounced their allegiance to the God of
heaven!—these kine of Bashan, who, like so many metamorphosed Nebuchadnezzars,
have lost the heart of a man, and live like as very brutes, as the beasts
themselves, who, while they feed, take no notice of him that clothes the field
with grass for them! Can I hope
they will hear man who will not acknowledge the God of heaven by praying to
him? Surely your case is deplored.
What! not pray? Can you do
less than by this homage to own God for your Maker? O less for your own souls, than to beg their life of God,
whose hand of justice is lift up against you? Are you resolved thus to throw yourselves into the devil's
mouth, without so much as striking one stroke for your defence? If God had required a greater matter at
your hands than this, the salvation of your souls would have deserved it. And will you stick at this?
God
does not put us to the cost of laying down the price of our ransom; no, not so
much as to pay our prison fees. Only, he bids thee pray, and he will pay: ‘Your
heart shall live that seek God,’ Ps. 69:32. O, what salt and vinegar will this pour into thy wounds,
when in hell thy conscience shall fly in thy face, and tell thee thou hadst not
been there if thou wouldst in time have humbled thy soul before God, and sought
his favour in that way which cost Christ his blood to procure. Either thou must be dispossessed of
this dumb devil, or undoubtedly it will be thy damnation! And who dies with
less pity than that malefactor that stouts it before the judge, and will not so
much as down on his knees, or open his mouth to cry for mercy, though the judge
on purpose stays to pronounce the sentence and break up the court, to see
whether his stomach will fall, and his proud spirit stoop to ask his life at
his hands? You know how angry
Pilate was when Christ was silent: ‘Speakest thou not unto me? knowest thou not
that I have power to crucify thee, and have power to release thee?’ John 19:10, though,
alas! poor creature, as Christ told him, he could do nothing for or against
him; and therefore Christ neither feared him, nor ought him so much service as
to bestow a word upon him. The
warrant for Christ’s death was sealed in heaven, and he, with the rest of
Christ’s enraged enemies, were but God's servants to do the execution according
to the determinate counsel of God.
But how much more reason hath the great God to be provoked by this
irreligion, and say, ‘Wilt thou not speak to me? pray to me? Dost thou not know I have the power to
save or damn? to deliver thee to the tormentor, or keep thee out of his
hands?’ Or, dost thou look that
God is bound to save thee whether pray or not pray? If he doth, I promise you
he shall do more for thee than for others; yea, than for his own Son, who made
strong cries and supplications to be saved by him. God hath laid the method of
salvation and think not that he will alter it, and so make a blot in the
counsel of his will, for thy pleasure.
What he hath written he hath written, and it shall not be reversed. Yea, though others should be so kind as
out of pity to thy soul to pray for thee, yet if thou beest thyself a
prayerless creature, thou shalt die the death. If they were Noah, Samuel, and Daniel, that stood up to beg
thy life they should not be heard for thee. Proxy prayers in this case will not prevail. And therefore, when the Israelites came
a begging to Samuel for his prayers—which, good man, he easily promised; indeed,
durst not have forgot them in that, though they had not remembered him of
it—mark what caveat he annexeth, ‘Only fear the Lord, and serve him in truth
with all your heart,’ I
Sam. 12:24.
As if he had said, ‘Do not set me to do for you {that} which you will not do
for yourselves.’ It is not all the interest my prayers have in heaven {that}
will keep the wrath of God from falling on you, if you be wicked and
atheistical; therefore ‘fear the Lord, and serve him.’ That is, pray and obey
him.
Fear
oft denotes the worship of God, Gen. 31:53. God is called ‘the fear of Isaac;’ i.e.
the God whom he feared and worshipped.
So, ‘Who would not fear thee, O King of nations? Jer. 10:7, that is,
worship thee, rather than the stocks and stones; because the worshipping of God
results from our reverence and fear we have of him. Christ ‘was heard in that he feared him,’ Heb. 5:7—BÎ JH ,Û8"$X4"H; that is,
his religious fear, expressed in those his strong cries which he groaned forth
to God in his agony. And
therefore, so long as you are prayerless, you live without the fear of God. And what will not such a wretch dare to
do? Even anything that Satan shall
command him, though it be to go to a wizard. When Saul had given over inquiring after God, we hear him by
and by knocking at the devil's door, and asking counsel of a witch. Oh! take heed of living so near the
tempter! If Satan might have his
wish, surely it would be this—that the creature might live prayerless; for by
this he should do the greatest spite possible to God; in that he makes the
creature set him at nought in all his attributes, and have the greatest
advantage against the sinner himself.
Now he hath thee as sure as the thief hath the traveller, when he hath
thrown him into a ditch fast bound, and stopped his mouth, that he cannot cry
to others for help. In a word,
thou art free booty for Satan, who may now satisfy his lust upon thee. He that prayeth invites God into his
further acquaintance, and soon shall have it; as we see in Paul, who had
Ananias sent from God to him. But
he that lives in the neglect of this duty, gives the devil fuller possession of
him. Thou art the man of all
others most fit for him to make an atheist of. I should not wonder that the devil persuades thee there is
no God, who already livest in such defiance against him as cannot but make the
belief of a deity dreadful to thy thoughts. Herod was soon persuaded to cut off John's head, because,
when he was alive, he so troubled and nettled his conscience. And it is to be feared thou wilt easily
be drawn to attempt the stifling all thoughts of a deity, from whom thy
criminous conscience expects to hear nothing that can please thee. Yea, it is probable thou hast too much
of the atheist in thee already, or else thou durst not deny God that part of
natural worship which they that know him least give unto him. I am sure the Scripture lays this brat
of irreligion at the door of atheism, Ps. 14:1: ‘The fool’ there would fain persuade
himself ‘there is no God,’ and when he hath got so far the mastery of his
conscience as to blot God out of his creed, he then soon leaves him out of his
paternoster, ver.
2.
Question. But, it may be, some will ask me
whether I think that any do, where the gospel is preached, neglect prayer on
this account of atheism?
Answer. Truly I do; and which is more, I think
there are worse atheists to be found under the meridian light of the gospel,
than in the darkest nook in America, where yet this day never broke. As weeds grow rankest in richest
grounds, and fruits ripest in hottest climates; so do sins grow to the greatest
height where the gospel‑sun climbs highest. ‘Who is blind, but my servant?...and blind as the Lord’s
servant?’ Isa.
42:19. Who such atheists as those that have
their eyes put out by the light of the gospel? The poor Indian’s little knowledge of a God is for want of
light; which may be cured, when it is brought to them. But if a judiciary atheism—as that in
gospel times and places commonly is—falls upon a soul for rebelling against the
light, this is incurable. Here the
very visive faculty is perished, and the eye bored out.
[Exhortation to
saints to abound in prayer.]
Use
Second. To the saints. Be you provoked to ply this oar more
diligently than ever. If this
be neglected, a universal decay of all your graces follows. When the ports and havens of a kingdom
are blocked up, that the merchant can not go forth, there follows a damp on all
the inland trade, so that an enemy needs not strike a stroke, but only stand
still to see them eat up one another.
The psalmist tells of a stream which ‘makes glad the city of God,’ Ps. 46:4. The
promise is this stream, upon which the saints have all their livelihood brought
up to their very doors. If this be
kept open, Satan cannot much distress them; which then is done, when they can
send out their prayers on this stream to heaven. But if once this trade be stopped, then they are hard put to
it. It is observed of our
neighbours the Netherlands, that whereas other nations used to be made poor by
war, they have grown rich with it; because, with their wars, they have enlarged
their trade and traffic abroad.
And if thou, Christian, wouldst thrive by all thy temptations, thou must
take the same course. Whatever
thou dost, starve not thy trade with heaven. God hath—to make thee more diligent in this duty—so ordered
things, that all the treasure of the promise is to be conveyed to thee in this
bottom of prayer. This is like the
merchant’s ship, it ‘bringeth her food from afar,’ Prov. 31:14. If thy mercies were of the growth of
thy own country, thou mightest spare a voyage to heaven. But alas! poor creature, when thou art
best laid in, and thy storehouse fullest, if no foreign supplies should come
unto thee from heaven, how soon wouldst thou be brought, with the poor widow,
to eat thy last cake and die! It
was not her little meal in her barrel, nor oil at the bottom of her cruse, but
God’s blessing multiplying them, that make them hold out so long. So, not thy present grace, strength, or
comfort, but God's feeding these with a new spring, that thou must live upon.
Now cease praying, and the oil of grace will cease running: ‘Ye have not,
because ye ask not.’ And when the
store is spent the city must yield.
As thou wouldst not therefore fall into Satan’s hands, lose not thy
interest in God, thy best ally, for want of preserving a good correspondence
with him at the throne of grace.
Now,
for the better pursuit of this exhortation, some counsel would not be amiss in
order to thy driving this trade of prayer more successfully. Satan hath received so many shameful
overthrows by the saints’ prayers, that he trembles at the force of this great
ordnance of heaven. This is the
voice, the mighty voice of God in his saints, which shakes those mountains of
pride, divides the flames of fiery temptations, and makes them cast forth their
abortive counsels to their shame and disappointment. ‘O Lord, I pray thee, turn the counsel of Ahithophel into
foolishness,’ II
Sam. 15:31. This one prayer made both Ahithophel a
fool, and him that set him on work also—defeating the wisdom both of man and
devil. Satan hath such an impression of dread upon him—from the remembrance of
what he hath suffered from the hands of prayer—that he will turn every stone,
and try every way, to obstruct thee in it. ‘What do we,’ said the Pharisees concerning Christ, ‘for
this man doeth many miracles?...if we let him thus alone, the Romans shall come
and take away both our place and nation.’
Satan cannot deny but great wonders have been wrought by prayer. As the spirit of prayer goes up, so his
kingdom goes down. It is of the
royal seed. He can no more stand before it than falling Haman before rising
Mordecai. And therefore, seeing
this is like to do thee such great service against him, it behooves thee the
more to defend it from his stratagems.
Because the great artillery of an army is so useful to it, and
formidable to the enemy, therefore it hath a strong guard set about it.
BRANCH THIRD.
[Satan’s designs against prayer.]
Now
Satan’s designs against prayer are of three kinds. First. If he
can, he will keep thee from prayer. If that be not feasible, Second.
He will strive to interrupt thee in prayer. And, Third. If
that plot takes not, he will labour to hinder the success and return of thy
prayer.
[Satan strives to keep from prayer.]
First Design. Satan’s first design upon the Christian will be to keep
him from prayer. To effect
this he wants not his stratagems; many objections that he will start, and
discouragements he will throw in thy way to this duty; hoping that if thou
stumblest not at one, yet he may make thee fall by another, and be sick of thy
enterprise before thou settest upon it.
And, which is worst, thou wilt find a party in thy own bosom too ready
to listen to what he saith, yea, to take up his arguments and maintain the
dispute against thy engaging in this work. We shall pick up a few among many, and put an answer into
thy mouth against he comes.
Satan keeps from
prayer by charging
the Christian with
hypocrisy.]
First
Stratagem. ‘What! thou pray! If thou dost, thou wilt but play the
hypocrite; and better not pray at all, than never the better!’ Nay, possibly thy own misgiving heart
may suggest the same, or at least so far credit his charge, as to make thee
waver in thy thoughts what thou shouldst do—pray or not. Now, to arm thee against this,
consider,
1.
Thou art but afraid thou shouldst play the hypocrite, if [you] pray; but
thou wilt certainly prove thyself an atheist if thou dost not. And that is it which he would
have. I hope thou art wiser than
to neglect a known duty upon a jealousy thou hast of miscarrying in it; to lie
down in a known sin—yea, so broad a one as brands him for an atheist that
continues in it—for fear of meeting a lion, may be but a bugbear, in the way
of thy obedience to an indispensable command.
2.
Thou art in the less danger of playing the hypocrite, because of thy fear. Some bodily diseases indeed are caught
with a fear and fancy. He is most
like to have the plague or pox that fears most he shall have them. But none are so safe from sin as they
that fear the falling into it most.
The truth is, I would desire no better argument to prove thee sincere
than this—to fear thy hypocrisy.
Believe it, if this be the great trouble of thy soul, the devil hath
more reason to fear thy sincerity than thou thy hypocrisy. And in all likelihood this it is that
makes him to scare thee from prayer—because thou scare him so much by thy
praying. If thou wert a hypocrite,
as he pretends, himself would invite thee to it; yea, make a lane for thee,
rather than that thou shouldst not come to the work; and when thou art risen
from thy knees, he would thank thee for thy pains, because he knows God would
not. The hypocrite does him more
service than God. You do not believe,
sure, that the devil was any great enemy to Jezebel's fasting. Nay, I doubt not but he put it into her
head, that she might thereby mock both God and man. Her fast was the devil’s feast. But,
3.
If thou findest more cause to fear thy playing the hypocrite than I who am a
stranger to thy heart have reason to do—who indeed can know so well how thy own
heart beats as thyself?—I say, if thou fearest this be the sin which is most
likely to make a breach upon thee in thy duty, do as Moses, who slew the Egyptian
to rescue the Israelite—destroy the sin, that thou mayest rescue thy soul
from the neglect of a duty.
Thou hast a very fair advantage, by the intelligence God graciously
gives thee whence thy danger is most likely to come, of falling on thy enemy,
and taking the fuller revenge on him, before thou settest about the work of
prayer. Get but thy heart into a
hatred of this odious sin, and fixed resolution against it, and, with God’s
blessing, it shall neither be able to hurt thee, nor hinder thy prayer from
finding welcome with God.
[Satan keeps from
prayer by undervaluing
the Christian’s gift
for it.]
Second
Stratagem. ‘O but,’ saith
Satan, ‘thou hast no gifts for prayer. Leave that for them that can perform this duty after a
better fashion.’
What
meanest thou by ‘gifts?’ If a
rowling, flowing tongue which some have, whereby they are able on a sudden,
with a long-continued discourse, to run over all the heads of prayer in a clear
method, and clothe every petition with apt and moving expressions, we will
suppose thou hast not this gift.
But, God forbid that want of this should keep thee from praying, or make
thee go the less comfortably to the duty.
The want of these, show only thou hast not so good a head, but doth not
the least hinder thy heart to be as gracious as theirs. And better of the two,
that the defect should be found in thy head than in thy heart. Thy invention indeed in prayer by this
will be more barren, but thy heart may be as fruitful over the few broken
disjointed sentences that by piecemeal fall from thee, as theirs with their
eloquent oration. Thy language
will not be so trim and gaudy but thy soul and spirit may be as sound yea more
upright, than many of those will be found who charm the ears of those that join
with them by the music their words make.
It is possible a man may have a rotten body under a gorgeous suit; and sub
hâc purpurâ linguĉ pannosam conscientiam—under the bravery of language a
poor ragged conscience. Who had
not rather be the healthful man in plain clothes, than unsound and diseased
under rich apparel?—sincere with mean gifts, rather than rotten-hearted with
raised parts. We do not count him
the best patriot in the parliament—house that plays the orator, and makes more
rhetorical speeches than others, but he that takes with the best side, and
whose vote is sure not to be wanting to carry on a righteous cause.
It
is not the rhetoric of the tongue, but the hearty ‘amen’ which the sincere soul
seals every holy request withal, that God values; and this thy honest heart
will help thee to do, which his head cannot do for him that wants this
sincerity. It is not the fairness of the hand that gives the force to the bond,
but the person whose hand and seal it is.
If it could, a scrivener might make all the country his debtors. Gifts may make a fair writing—which the
hypocrite can do—but faith and sincerity make a valid prayer; and this alone
can lay claim to the good things of the promise. In a word, sincere soul—for so I take thee to be—and if
such, though thou hast not these praying gifts as others, yet thou hast as much
interest in Christ, the ‘unspeakable gift,’ II Cor. 9:15, as any of them all. And, for thy everlasting encouragement,
know, it is not those gifts in them, but this gift of God to thee and all
believers, which is the key that must open God's heart, if any mercy be got
thence. Yea, this gift must
sanctify their glistering gifts, as the altar did the gold upon it, or else
they will be an abomination to the Lord.
[Satan keeps from
prayer,
through present
indisposition to it.]
Third
Stratagem. Satan and the flesh
too have their dilatory excuses to take thee off this duty, when thy stated
usual time comes about for the performance of it. Dost thou never, Christian, when thou
art addressing thyself to the throne of grace, hear Satan and thy flesh
whispering in thine ear, ‘Christian, what art thou going to do? This is not a fit time for thy
praying. Stay for a more
convenient season.’ Here the devil
seems modest. He saith not, Pray
not at all, but ‘not now’—not dissolve, but ‘adjourn’ the court
for a fitter time.
Answer. Now beware, Christian, thy foot is near
a snare. If thou takest the
devil’s counsel, and waitest for his convenient season, may be it will prove
like Felix’s ‘convenient season’ for calling Paul to a further hearing; which,
for aught we find, never came about.
When the flesh or Satan beg time of thee, it is to steal time from
thee. They put thee off duty at
one time, on a design to shut thee out at last from this duty at any time. The devil is a cunning sophist; he
knows a modest beggar may sooner obtain the little he asks, than he that
saucily asks that which carries more unreasonableness in the request. Jephthah, who yielded to his daughter’s
desire for a few months reprieve, would, it is like, not have heard her had she
begged a full release from her father’s vow. A gracious soul is under a vow to call upon God. He knows such a motion would be flung
back with the saint’s abhorrency upon his face, should he at the first dash bid
him never pray more, and wholly leave his acquaintance with God. Therefore he would seem very willing he
should pray. ‘Aye! by all means,’
saith he, ‘I would not have you turn your back on your best friend; but now is
not so fit a season.’
[Two pleas Satan hath to cheat the
Christians of their
seasons of prayer.]
1.
The Christian’s present indisposition to prayer. 2. Some worldly business that then stays to be despatched.
1.
Plea. The Christian’s present
indisposition to pray. ‘Stay,
Christian,’ saith the tempter, ‘till thou art in a better temper for duty, and
thou wilt pray to more purpose.
Better not write that scribble—leave the work undone, than go about it
when thy hand is out.’ Now there
is a double indisposition, which both Satan and the flesh make use of to colour
their pretence with.
(1.)
Indisposition of body. Some
distemper lies on at present on that, and Scripture, say these, tells thee God
loves mercy rather than sacrifice.
And it cannot be denied but the Scripture will reach as far as the body,
for God’s commands are not cruel to it.
Answer. But, to help thee out of this snare,
tell me plainly, how great is this distemper of thy body? Haply thou art
not so ill but thou canst go about thy worldly business, though with some
groans and complaints in the same.
But when thou shouldst pray, then thy head aches and shoots more than before. Art thou well enough to go into thy
shop, and not to pray in thy closet?
Canst thou waddle so far as to the market, and not pray at home? Canst thou overcome thy distemper so
far as to traffic with the world, and not to trade with heaven? Surely all is not right. God is but little beholden to
thee. May not God say, I deserve
thy company as well as the world? But, suppose thou beest right-down sick, and
quite laid up from meddling in thy worldly employments; yet, will this excuse
thee from visiting the throne of grace?
God takes thee out of the shop to show thee the way into the
closet. He knocks thee off thy
worldly trade, that thou mayest follow thy heavenly the more close. Thou art not, indeed, able to pray in a
continued discourse as in health.
Neither doth God expect it.
Here that Scripture, which the devil would have thee abuse, is pat, and
suitable to thy present state: God loves mercy rather than sacrifice. Yet now, if ever, is the time for thee
to shoot those jacula prĉcatoria—darts of ejaculatory prayer to God.
When our body breathes shortest, it breathes quickest and oftenest. Though thou canst not pray long, yet
thou mayest pray much in these pathetical sallies of thy soul to heaven. The Christian should have his quiver
full of these arrows, which, though short, go with a force. Christ never prayed more earnestly than
in his agony; which prayer was of this nature, ‘O my Father, if it be possible,
let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt,’ Matt. 26:39. And after
a little pause—for nature to take some breath, by reason of that unspeakable
burden which then lay upon it—he shoots the same dart again to heaven thrice,
one after another, ver.
44. In a word, Christian, though thou canst
not pray as thou wert wont, yet thou canst desire others to pray for thee and
with thee. We are bid to send for
the elders, yea and beg prayers of others too. So pitiful is God to us, that when, through our own
weakness, we are disabled from delivering our own conceptions in prayer, that
then we may bring forth as Bilhah on others’ knees. When we cannot go ourselves
as we were wont to the work, we may be carried on the shoulders of their
prayers, and fly on the wings of their faith to heaven.
(2.)
Indisposition of heart. O
but, secondly, thou mayest say, It is not the sickness of thy body, but the deadness
of thy heart, and indisposition of thy soul, that keeps thee from
duty. Thou wouldst fain have that
in a better frame, and then thou wouldst not be long a stranger to it.
Answer
(a). Let me ask thee,
Christian, what thou hast found—in the observation of thy own heart—to be the
fruit that hath grown from such put‑offs and excuses;—hath neglect of duty
at one time fitted thee for it at another? I believe not.
Sloth is not cured with sleep, nor laziness with idleness. If our leg be numb, we walk, and so it
wears off. Satan knows if thou
playest the truant to‑day thou wilt be more loath to go to school
tomorrow. Give the flesh a little
scope and liberty by thus unlacing thyself, and it will endure less to be
straitened afterwards. There is
something to do to bridle a wanton beast, when hath got the bit once out of his
mouth. The spouse’s coat sat very
easy on her back, and unwilling no doubt she was to be stripped; but when once,
by a wile of Satan, she was persuaded to put it off, how loath was she then to
get it on again! And therefore,
whenever you are turning from this or any other duty merely upon this account,
consider well what is like to follow.
One of these two will come of it.
Either thou wilt see thy sin, and return with shame and sorrow for thy
neglect. And is it not less
trouble to pray now than upon such terms afterwards? A heathen could say, ‘He would not sin to buy repentance.’ And shouldst not thou have more wisdom
to know which is a bad bargain for thy soul than he? Or, if not that, it will follow, secondly, that this neglect
will beget another, and that a third, and so thou wilt run further in arrears
with thy conscience, till at last thou givest over all thoughts of renewing thy
acquaintance with God because thou hast discontinued it so long.
Answer
(b). Examine from whence this
present indisposition comes, and probably thou wilt find reason to charge it
either upon some sinful miscarriage in thy Christian course, or on thy
neglect of those preparatory means through which thou art to pass into the
performance of this duty.
[1.]
See whether thou hast not been tampering with some sin knowingly. There is an antipathy betwixt sinning
and praying, partly from guilt, which makes the soul shy of coming into God's
sight, because conscious of a fault.
The child that hath misspent the day in play abroad, steals to bed at
night, or plays least in sight, for fear of a chiding, or worse, from his
father. And also there is this
antipathy between those two lines of acting, as the same doth roil and
disorder the heart. Sin and prayer
are such contraries, that it is impossible at one stride to step from one to
another. It is an ill time when
the fountain is stopped or muddied, to go to draw water thence. If the workman’s tools be blunt or
gapped, no work an be well done till a new edge be set on them. It is the devil's policy thus to
disturb and unfit the Christian for duty that he may leave it undone. And therefore, let thy first care be to
keep the fountain of thy heart clear all the day long, as remembering that from
it those holy affections which in prayer thou art to pour forth to God must be
drawn. Look thou lendest not any
power of thy soul to be Satan's instrument in sin’s coarse foul work, lest thou
find it out of case when thou art to use it in this spiritual service. A good servant will not have her dishes
or pots foul when they should be used, but stand clean and bright upon the
shelf, to be ready against they are called for. And so is the true Christian characterized. ‘If a man therefore purge himself from
these, he shall be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and meet for the Master’s
use, and prepared unto every good work,’ II Tim. 2:21.
But
again, if thou findest guilt to be contracted and thence a fear to come so nigh
God, as this duty will bring thee, yea an estrangement also upon thy heart from
this work, thy best way is to speedily to renew thy repentance, and so thy
faith both for pardoning mercy and purging grace. New breaches are made up better than long quarrels; green wounds
healed easier than old sores; spots washed out sooner when newly got than when
ingrained by long continuance.
Ply thee to the throne of grace.
Water the earth, if thou canst, with thy tears, and fill heaven with
sorrowful sighs for thy sin; but by no means shift off the duty on this
pretence; for that is not the way to mend the matter, but make it worse. Jonah did ill to consult his credit
rather than the exaltation of God’s mercy; and how he should come honourably
off with this embassage, than how the name of the great God his Master that
sent him might be magnified. But
he did worse than these sinful thoughts stirred in him—which he should have
humbled himself for—made him run away from his Master’s work also. Thus, Christian, it is ill done of thee
to make a breach in thy holy course by tampering with any sin; but thou wilt
commit a greater if thou turnest thy back on God also in that ordinance where
thou shouldst humble thyself for thy former sin. Can one sin be a good argument for committing another? Thou
hast fallen into sin in the day; wilt thou not therefore pray at night? Surely it were better to beg of God
forgiveness of this, and more grace, that thou mayest not do the like or worse
to‑morrow. Neglect of duty is not
the way to help thee out of the pit thou art in, nor keep thee from falling
into another. Take heed thou
runnest not thyself further into temptation. Now is the time for the devil to set upon thee, when this
weapon is out of thy hand. The
best thou canst look for is a storm from God to bring back thee, his runaway
servant, to thy work again. And
the sooner it comes, the more merciful he is to thee.
[2.]
If, upon thy faithful inquiry, thou findest not thy heart reproach thee to have
indisposed thyself for duty by any known sin in the course of thy life, and yet
thy heart continues lumpish and unfit for prayer, then probably thou wilt take
thyself tardy in thy actual preparation to the duty. Hast thou therefore solemnly
endeavoured, by suitable meditations, to blow the coal of thy habitual grace?
which though not quenched by any gross sin, yet may be deadened, and covered
with some ashes, by thy being over‑busy in thy worldly employments. The well is seldom so full that water
will, at first pumping, flow forth. Neither is the heart commonly so spiritual
after our best care in our worldly converse—much less when we somewhat overdo
therein—to pour itself into God’s bosom freely, without some labour to raise
and elevate it. Yea, oft the springs of grace lie so low, that only pumping
will not fetch the heart up to a praying frame, but arguments must be poured
into the soul —like so many pails of water into the pump—before the affections
rise. Hence are those soliloquies
and discourses, which we find holy men use with their own hearts to bring them
into a gracious temper, suitable for communion with God in ordinances. ‘Bless
the Lord, O my soul: and all that is within me, bless his holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget
not all his benefits,’ Ps.
103:1, 2. It seems David either found or feared
his heart would not be in so good a frame as he desired, that he redoubles his
charge. He found sure his heart
somewhat drowsy, which made him thus rub his eyes, and rouse up himself, now
going to God in this duty. Sometimes
calling and exciting the heart will not do, but the heart must be chid, and
taken up roundly. So David was
fain to deal with himself at another time. ‘Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou
disquieted within me?’ Ps.
42:11. Heavy birds must take a run before they
can get upon the wing. It is
harder to get a great bell up, than to ring it when it is raised. And so it is with our hearts. Harder work we shall find it to prepare
them for duty, than to perform it when they are got into some order. Now, hast thou endeavoured this? If not, how canst thou make this a
pretence to waive the duty because thou art indisposed, when thou hast not
used the means to have thy clog taken off? This is as if one should excuse himself for not coming to
the feast unto which he was invited, because forsooth he was not dressed, when
indeed he never went about to make ready.
But if thou canst answer to the former question, and in some uprightness
say that thou hast not neglected preparatory means, but yet thy indisposition
and deadness of heart remains, then we present you with another
consideration. Though it be not so
ordinary, yet it is possible, that a Christian may walk on those coals of
meditation, which at one time would set his soul all on fire, and put his
graces into a flame, yet at another he may find little warmth from them. We will suppose this to be thy
case. Therefore,
Answer
(c). Consider that God may,
and doth, sometimes conceal his enlivening presence, till the soul be
engaged in the work. And would
it not grieve thee to lose such an opportunity? How oft hast thou found thyself at the entrance into a duty
becalmed, as a ship which at first setting sail hath hardly wind to swell its
sails—while under the shore and shadow of the trees—but meets a fresh gale of
wind when got into the open sea?
Yea, didst thou never launch out to duty as the apostles to sea, with
the wind on thy teeth, as if the Spirit of God, instead of helping thee on, meant
to drive thee back, and yet hast found Christ walking to thee before the duty
was done, and a prosperous voyage made of it at last? Abraham saw not the ram which God had provided for his
sacrifice till he was in the mount.
In
the mount of prayer God is seen; even when the Christian does oft go up the
hill towards duty with a heavy heart, because he can as yet have no sight of
him. Turn not therefore back; but
on with courage. He may be nearer than thou thinkest on. ‘In that same hour,’ saith Christ, ‘it
shall be give unto you,’ Matt.
10:19. ‘In the day,’ said David, ‘when I cried
thou answeredst me, and strengthenedst me with strength in my soul,’ Ps. 138:3. It is no more than the promise gives us
security for: ‘The way of the Lord is strength.’ Just as it is with a man, who at first going out on a
journey feels a lassitude and feebleness in his limbs; but the farther he goes,
the more strength he gathers, as if there arose strength out of the ground he
walks on. Truly the saints find
this in God’s way: ‘I have remembered thy name, O Lord, in the night, and have
kept thy law. This I had, because
I kept thy precepts,’ Ps.
119:55, 56. His meaning is, by doing his best
endeavour to keep them, he got this by the hand, to be able to keep them
better, and he thinks himself so well paid in for this his pains, that he
glories in it—‘This I had.’ So the
saint hath this for praying —he gets his heart in tune to pray better.
We
may observe those children in Scripture which came of barren wombs were the
greatest comforts to their parents when they had them. Witness Isaac, Samuel, and John. The greater deadness and barrenness thy
heart, to thy own sense, lay under, and the less hope thou hadst to get out of
the indisposition, the more joyful will the quickening presence of God be to
thee. The assistance that thus
surpriseth thee beyond thy expectation will be a true Isaac —a child of joy
and laughter. And a double reason
is obvious why God doth thus. You
see it in the great delight the Lord takes in pure obedience. ‘To obey is better than sacrifice,’ I Sam. 15:22. To pray in obedience is better than
barely to pray. This is the jewel
in the ring of prayer. Now, to
pray in pure obedience is to set upon the duty when there is no assistance visible
or encouragement sensible—to go to duty not because God puts forth his hand to
lead me, but because he holds forth his precept to command me. As when a general commands his army to
march, if then the soldiers should stand upon terms, and refuse to go except
they have better clothes, their pay in hand, or the like, and then they will
march; this would not show them an obedient disciplined army. But if, at the reading of their orders,
they presently break up their quarters, and set forth, though it be midnight
when the command come, and they without money in their purse, clothes on their
back—leaving the whole care of themselves for these things to their general,
and they only attend how they may best fulfil his command—these may be said to
march in obedience. Thus, when a soul, after a faithful use of means, finds his
heart dead and dull, yet in obedience to the command kneels down—though the
sense of his inability is so great that he questions whether he shall have
power to speak one word to God as he ought, yet had rather be dumb and dutiful,
than disobedient in running away from his charge —here is an obedient soul,
and he may hope to meet God in his way with that which he cannot carry with
him—as the lepers, who, when they went, in obedience to Christ’s command, to
‘show themselves to the priest,’ were cured by the way, though they saw nothing
of it when they set forth.
Another
fetch that Satan hath to make the Christian put off the duty of prayer as
unseasonable at present, is—
2.
Plea. Some worldly
business or other that then is to be despatched; and therefore suggests
such thoughts as these to divert him:—‘I have no leisure now to pray; this
business is to be done, and that necessary occasion calls for my
attendance. I will therefore
adjourn the performance till I can come with more freedom and leisure.’
Now
to arm thee, Christian, against such dilatory pretences, I shall lay down a
few directions.
[Five Directions to preserve against
interference with
seasons of prayer.]
(1.)
Take heed of overcharging thyself with worldly business, which then is
done when thou graspest more thereof than will consist with thy heavenly trade
and Christian calling. God allows
thee to give to the world that which is the world’s, but he will not suffer
thee to pay the world that which is due to him; rob Mary to lend to Martha,
steal from thy closet to pay to thy kitchen. Thy particular calling is intended by God to be a help to
thy general. It will therefore be
thy sin to make that an encumbrance which is given as an advantage. And that which is itself a sin cannot
be a plea for the neglect of a duty. that servant would mend a matter but
little, who excuseth his not doing a business his master commanded, by telling
him he had drunk too much when he should have gone about it. Nor will thy apology for passing thy
time of prayer be better, that sayest thou hadst so much to do in the world
that thou couldst not find time to pray in.
(2.)
Labour to time thy seasons for prayer with discretion in the things of the
world. If we have two
businesses to despatch in the same day, we contrive, if possible, that they may
not interfere. And certainly a
holy providence to forecast how we may reconcile daily the demands of our
closet and shop, our devotions and worldly employments, by laying out each its
portion of time, would ordinarily prevent much disorder and confusion in our
walking. The prophet speaks of
‘the liberal man devising liberal things.’ We could not easily want time to pray in, if our hearts
would but persuade our heads to devise and study how our other affairs might be
disposed of without prejudice to our devotions. That cloth which a bungler thinks too little for a garment,
a good workman can make one of it, and leave some for another use also. O there is a great deal of art in
cutting out time with little loss.
(3.)
Be sure thou keepest a right notion of prayer in thy thoughts. Some look upon every minute of time
spent in the closet lost in the shop.
And no wonder such are easily kept from prayer upon any pretended
business, who think it a prejudice to their other affairs. But I hope, Christian, thou art better
taught. Does the husbandman mow
the less for whetting his scythe?
Doth a good grace before meat spoil the dinner? No. Nor doth prayer hinder the Christian
either in his employments or enjoyments, but expedites the one and sanctifies
the other. All agree that to the
despatch of a business—as to the winding of a skein of silk—nothing conduceth
more than to begin at the right end of it. And to be sure the right end of any business is to begin
with God, and engage him to help us.
‘In all thy ways acknowledge God,’ and ‘lean not unto thine own
understanding,’ Prov.
3:5, 6.
(4.)
The more straits and difficulties thou conquerest to keep up thy communion
with God, the more kindly it is taken of God. No more friend is more welcome to us than he who breaks
through many occasions to give us a visit. There is little cost, and so little love, in an idle man's
visit—he that comes to see us because he hath nothing else to do. Mary was
Christ’s favourite, who trode the world under her feet, that she might sit at
his feet. And the Bethshemites,
who in their zeal—I confess their case is extraordinary—came out of their very
harvest-field, when they were reaping, to offer a sacrifice to the Lord, I Sam. 6:13.
(5.)
Be faithful and impartial in considering the importance and necessity of
that business which is propounded as an apology for not performing this duty at
thy usual season. It cannot be
denied but such a necessary occasion may emerge and fall out, for which the
Christian may, without sin, adjourn the solemn performance of his devotions to
another more fit time. Who doubts
but a Christian may, when he riseth, go to quench his neighbour’s house on
fire, though by this he be kept out of his closet, and detained from offering
to God that solemn morning sacrifice of praise and prayer he was wont? Yea, though the occasion be not
extraordinary, if it be,
(a)
About that which is lawful in itself.
(b)
Of importance.
(c)
Necessarily then to be despatched.
And,
(d)
If it surpriseth us, and we do not bring it upon ourselves by our own
fault, then the duty of prayer may without sin be adjourned for a fitter time.
But
let us take heed of stamping a pretended necessity on things and actions, only
to gratify our lazy hearts with a handsome excuse, whereby we may both save the
pains of performing a duty, and also escape a chiding from our conscience for
the non-performance of it. Of all
fools he is the worst, that is witty to put a cheat on himself, and especially
on his soul. Such a one must
expect that the less his conscience barks at present, the more it will bite
when it shall be unmuzzled.
Again,
if the occasion be, as is said, important and necessary, whereby thou art called
off from the solemn performance of this duty at present, then lift up thy
heart in an ejaculatory prayer to God, to guide and guard thee. This is the short dagger thou art to
use for thy defence against temptation, when thou hast not time to draw the long
sword of solemn prayer. Thus thou
mayst pray in any place, company, or employment. A short parenthesis interrupts not the sense of discourse,
but gives an elegancy to it. And a short ejaculation to heaven will not
interrupt any business thou art about, but advantage it much.
Again,
be careful to recover this loss which thy worldly business hath put thee to in
thy communion with God, by more abounding in the duty upon thy next
opportunity. The tradesman who
is kept from his dinner on the market-day, goes the sooner to his supper, and
eats the freer meal at night. If
you be hindered of your rest one night by business, you will take it up the
next. O that we were as wise for
our souls—what we are prevented of at one tie, to recover with advantage at another,
by a double enlargement of our hearts in our prayers and meditations!
[Satan discourages
from prayer because
of the greatness of the requests.]
Fourth
Stratagem. Satan discourages
sometimes the Christian, when on his way to this duty, from the greatness of
those requests which he hath to put up to the throne of grace. Thou art going to pray, Christian,
will he say, and will nothing serve thee less than pardon of sin, love and
favour of God, with eternal life, &c.? Surely thou art too free of another’s purse, and too kind to
thyself, if thou thinkest to be welcome at God’s door with so bold an
errand. This is a boon reserved
for some few favourites, and darest thou think so well of thyself that thou art
one of them?
Now
to arm thee, Christian, against this, that thou mayest neither be kept from the
duty, nor go misgivingly to it upon this account, the greatness of thy request,
ponder upon these five considerations, which will amount to a full answer to
this cavil. 1. Oppose the
greatness of that God thou art going to make thy address unto, against the
greatness of thy request. 2.
Oppose the promise to thy fears.
3. The valuable consideration on which they are made. 4. The greatness of the request cannot
hinder, because they are most welcome that ask most. 5. God exceeds his people’s asking.
[Fivefold answer to
Satan's discouragement to
prayer from the
greatness of the request.]
Answer
1. Oppose the greatness of
that God thou art going to make thy address unto, against the greatness of
thy request. We are bid to
‘ascribe greatness to our God,’ Deut. 32:3.
And if ever, especially when kneeling down to pray. Wert thou to put up thy request to some
puny prince, or petty creature, thou hadst reason to consider whether thy
pitcher were not too great that thou wouldst have filled. Possibly thou mayest
ask such a one more at one clap than he is worth. ‘Help, my lord, O king,’ said the woman in the famine of
Samaria, yet she had no relief: ‘If the Lord do not help thee, whence shall I
help thee?’ II
Kings 6:26, 27. Or possibly, if he hath power, he may
want a heart to part with so much as will serve thy turn. There are many of Nabal’s name in the
world—such churls, who think every bit of bread lost that they eat not
themselves; yea, some who grudge their own belly its necessary food. Wert thou at the door of such as those,
what couldst thou expect but cold welcome? But remember he is a great God, great in power. Thou canst not overask. Thou mayest draw thine arrow to the
head, and yet not overshoot the power of God. Even when thou hast drawn thy desires to the highest pitch,
he shall be above thee; ‘for he is able to do exceedingly above what we can ask
or think.’
Wouldst
thou have thy sins pardoned?
Yes, if they were not too great, thou sayest. But can God at once discount such a sum, and discharge so
vast a debt, that hath been gathering many years by a full trade of constant
sinning, with so great a stock of means and mercies as I have had; and thereby
the unhappy advantage of making the greater return? Yes, he is able ‘abundantly
to pardon,’ without any wrong to himself or control from any other. The sovereign power of life and death
being in his hands, he is accountable to none;—as not for acts of justice, so
neither of mercy. ‘It is God that
justifieth; who is he that condemneth? Rom. 8:33, 34. If, indeed, a man forgive a wrong done unto him, thou canst
not think thyself therefore acquitted by God; his wrath may still chide on
thee. Man cannot give away God’s
right. Were a man so kind as to forgive a thief that robbed him, yet it is not
in his power to discharge him of the penalty of the law. But if the prince, who is the lawgiver,
will do it, none can gainsay. If
God will pass an act of mercy, thou art free indeed; for the power lies in his
hands.
Is
it any masterly lust, from whose tyranny thou wouldst beg
deliverance? The God thou prayest
to is able to break open thy prison door, and make thee, a poor captive, go out
free. He can give these thine enemies
as dust to thy sword, and as driven stubble to thy bow; yea, destroy them with
a cast of his eye: ‘The Lord looked unto the Egyptians...and troubled their
host,’ Ex.
14:24. His very look was as heavy as a millstone
about their necks. Presently they
sank, horse and rider, like lead to the bottom of the sea. And sin and Satan are no more before
God than were Pharaoh and his host.
In
a word, is it comfort thou wouldst ask if it might be had? O, know he is a Creator thou prayest
to! Though thy heart were as void
of comfort as the chaos was of light, yet can he with a word cause a new heaven
of joy to arise out of thy confused soul, and make in one moment to step out of
darkness into light. Neither is his
mercy less than his power. O,
launch therefore into this bankless, bottomless sea, by thy faith! Behold the wonders of God in these
depths, and do not stand reasoning thyself into unbelief by any uncomely
comparisons between God and the narrow-hearted creature. ‘He is God and not man.’ None of these defects are to be found
in his mercy which we impotent creatures find in ourselves. The paleness we see
sometimes is not in the sun, but from the clouds that interpose. The stars do not blink nor twinkle, as
is thought; but we—because of their vast distance, and our weak organ—cannot behold
them with a fixed eye. Nor have
the jealousies and fears entertained by tempted souls, to the disparagement of
the mercy of God, any foundation in the divine nature, but are mere entia
rationis—bugbears, which, through the darkness of their troubled spirits,
and distemperature of a melancholy fancy, Satan hath the advantage of
affrighting them with. O, beware
therefore thou dost not disfigure the sweet lovely face of God’s mercy—which
smile alike upon every poor, penitent, praying soul—while thou fanciest God to
have a cast of this his eye, and to look more favourably upon one than
another, lest by this you do betray the glorious name of God to be rent in
pieces by your cruel unbelief! If
you once come to wrap up God in your hard thoughts as slow to hear—hard to be
wrought on with your prayers and tears; truly then Satan may easily persuade
you to commit any sin against him, because you expect no mercy from him.
Answer
2. Oppose the promise
to thy fears. There is no mercy
thou canst desire but is promised beforehand unto the prayer of faith. The mercy thou wouldst have is already
voted in heaven, and the grant passed; only God stays for thy coming over to
the throne of grace, there to lay thy claim to the promise before he issueth it
forth. The mercy lies in the womb
of the promise, but stays for thy prayer of faith to obstetricate, and give it
a fair deliverance. ‘The children
are come to the birth,’ said Hezekiah—the promise is big—wherefore lift up thy
prayer for the remnant that is left, Isa. 37. That is, if anything will help, it must be that. What can a petitioner desire more in
his address to a prince for some great favour, than to be assured not only a
prince is of a gracious merciful nature, but also that he hath obliged himself
to give that which he hath in his thoughts to desire? And shall only the
promises of God be counted light and little worth? Have you not heard of such a promise: ‘Ask, that your joy
may be full?’ Did ever a vain word
drop from the lips of truth? Doth
he make an order one day, and reverse it another? Are his words yea and nay? and not rather ‘yea and amen’ for
ever? II
Cor. 1:20. Beggars use to be quick-sighted.
Benhadad’s servants saw light at a little hole; and gathered from a few kind
words which dropped from Ahab’s mouth, that there was mercy raked up in his
heart towards their master, which they soon blew up. Joab saw David’s bowels
working towards Absalom through the casement of his countenance, and therefore
lets down the widow’s parable as a bucket to draw out that mercy which lay in
his heart like water in a deep well.
How much more encouragement hast thou, Christian, to plead with thy God,
who art not put to guess at God’s thoughts, but hast the assurance of plain
promises for thy good speed?
O
what fools, and how slow of heart are we to believe the good word of God! If Moses supposed his brethren would
have understood, by the kind visit he gave them, and his friendly office in
rescuing one single Israelite from his oppressor’s hand, that God would by him
deliver them all; how much more may God expect that his people should
understand his purposes of love towards them, when he exposeth his heart to so
open a view of their faith by his promise, and hath sealed the truth thereof
with so many examples to whom already full payment hath been made of the
same? And do we yet read them, as
once the eunuch that sweet promise, Isa. 53, and understand not the meaning of
them? Do we yet sit so near our
comfort, as Hagar by the well, and our eyes held not to see it? Can we yet walk over the promises as
barren ground, when, with a little digging into them, we might find a treasure
to pay all our debts and supply all our wants?
Answer
3. Oppose to thy fears not
only the greatness of the promises, but also the valuable consideration
upon which they are made.
Christ pays for what thou prayest.
Thou, indeed, beggest alms, but Christ demands that same as debt. God is merciful to thee, but just to
him. And therefore, Christian,
though it becomes thee to sink thyself beneath the least mercy in thy own
thoughts, yet it behooves thee to be tender of Christ’s credit, whose merit is
far above the greatest mercy thou canst beg as thou art beneath the least. The Father will give you little thanks
for casting any dishonourable reflection upon his Son, on whom himself hath
heaped so much glory; yea, with whose honour his own is so interwoven, that
whoever dishonours the Son dishonours the Father that sent him. Now there are three privileges
purchased for every believer; and none of them can be lost by us without
dishonour to him.
(1.)
He hath purchased a liberty to pray. It had been death to come on such an errand to God till he
had by his blood paved a way and procured a safe conduct, Heb. 10:17.
(2.)
An ability to pray as he purchased the Spirit for us; called therefore
‘the Spirit of promise.’
(3.)
The safe return of our prayers.
‘Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, he will give it you,’ John 16:23. Indeed, it is his business now in
heaven to own our cause there in open court, and to present his blood as ready
money to be laid down for all his saints beg, that no demur be made to their
requests. So that, either thou must
blot this article of Christ's intercession out of thy creed, or else put
thyself to shame for questioning thy entertainment with God when thou hast so
good a friend at court to speak for thee.
Answer
4. The greatness of thy
request cannot hinder thy speeding, because thou art most welcome that ask
most. Who are the persons
frowned on at the throne of grace but those who lay out the strength of their
desires, and bestow their greatest importunity for mercies of least weight and
worth? ‘And they have not cried
unto me with their heart, when they howled upon their beds,’ Hosea 7:14. Mark! the Lord did not account that
they had prayed at all for all their loud cry; and why? but because he
disdained their low and drossy spirit in crying loudest for that which they
deserved least, as the following words will resolve us, ‘They assemble
themselves for corn and wine, and they rebel against me,’ they would have a
good crop with a full vintage; and these scraps should serve them, so as not to
trouble God for any more. God, his
love and favour, are quite left out of the story. May they but have their
bellies crammed they have all their wish, and leave the other for those that
like them better. O how God abhors
these prostrate souls and carnal prayers!
When men ‘tithe mint and cummin’ in their prayers, but neglect the
weightier things of the promises, such are an interest in Christ, forgiveness
of sin, a new heart, grace here and glory hereafter! Or, when they aim at low and base ends in praying for these
things that in themselves are noble and high! And therefore fear not the greatness of thy request. God had rather give thee heaven than
earth. He can more willingly bestow himself on thee that art in love with him,
than a crust of bread on another that regards him not. The greater the mercy is thou askest,
the greater the rent and revenue wilt thou pay him for it. The less he gives the less he receives. By low requests thou wrongest two at
once. Thou art a thief to thyself,
in wanting what thou mayest have for asking—in bringing a little vessel when
thou mightest have a great one filled.
Neither art thou so good a friend to thy God as thou shouldst; for the
less grace thou hast from him, the less glory thou wilt return unto him. The reflex beams are proportionable to
the lightsome body they come from.
When grace is weak, the reflection it makes of praise and glory to God
can be but weak and dark.
Answer
5. God is so free and
redundant in communicating his mercy, that he exceeds his people’s modesty
in asking. He gives them
commonly their prayers with an overplus more than they have faith or face to
ask; as Naaman, when Gehazi asked one talent, would need force two upon
him. Abraham asked a child of God
when he wanted an heir in whom he might live when dead. Now God promises him a son, and more
than so, a numerous offspring; yea, more still, such an offspring, that in his
offspring ‘all the nations of the earth shall be blessed.’ Jacob, he desired but God’s pass,
under the protection of which he might go and return safely, with food and
raiment enough to keep him alive, Gen. 28:20. Well, this he shall have. But God thinks it not enough; and therefore sends him home
with two bands, who went out a poor fugitive with little besides his pilgrim’s
staff. Solomon prays for wisdom, and God throws in wealth and honour, II Chr. 1:10. The woman of Canaan begs a crumb—as
much as we would cast to a dog—and Christ gives her a child’s portion. She came to have her sick child made
well, and with it she hath the life of her own soul given her. Yea, Christ puts the key of his treasure
into her own hand, and leaves her as it were to serve herself: ‘Be it unto
thee even as thou wilt,’ Matt.
15:28.
[Satan strives to interrupt from prayer.]
Second Design. A second design Satan hath against the Christian is, to interrupt
him in the act of prayer, when he can by no means keep him from it. It is hard to steal a prayer and the
devil not know what thou art going about.
He watches thy motions, Christian, and is at thy heels wherever thou
turnest. If thou art about any evil action, he is at thy elbow to jog thee on,
or before thee to remove every stone out of the way, that the bowl may go the
more smoothly on, and thou mayest not be sick of the enterprise by the rubs thou
meetest in the way. Ahab had but a
plot hatching in his thoughts of going up to Ramoth-Gilead, and presently Satan
hath his knights of the post whom he sends to bid him go up and prosper. David
himself had but some proud thoughts stirring him up to number the people; Satan
takes the advantage, and works with the humour now moving, whereby it soon
ripened into that sore which God lanced with so sharp a judgement as the loss
of seventy thousand men. Now he is
as skilful and ready at hand to disturb a holy action as to promote a wicked.
When
the sons of God some to present themselves before the Lord, Satan forgets not
to be among them. He is no
recusant, scruples not to be present when you worship God; indeed he is first
there and last thence. Sometimes
thou shalt find him injecting motions of his own, sometimes wire-drawing thy
own. When he sees a vain thought, a sin sprung by thy wanton fancy, he will
help thee to pursue the chase. To be sure, he will be at one end of every
inordinate motion of thy heart; either the father to beget, or the nurse to
bring them up. These are so many
and diverse, that we may as well tell the atoms we see in a sunbeam, as number
and sort this miscellaneous heap of roving thoughts which are incident to the
Christian in prayer. Sometimes he
will inject such as are sinful, proud, filthy, yea blasphemous thoughts. Not that he hopes to find entertainment
in the Christian’s heart for such guests—much less to make a settlement of them
there with the gracious soul’s consent; but to make a hurly-burly and confusion
in his spirit, whereby—as upon some sudden scare in our assemblies—the holy
exercise he is now about may be hindered. Sometimes he will prompt thoughts holy in themselves but
impertinent, which, at another time, himself would oppose with all his might,
but now presents them, because most likely to find welcome, and fit enough to
serve his present purpose, being, though good fruit, yet brought forth in a bad
season. I believe none that have any acquaintance with this duty, and their
hearts in it, are altogether strangers to Satan’s slights of this nature. Now he hath a double plot; one levelled
against God himself, another against the Christian thereby.
[The double plot of
Satan in interrupting prayer.]
First
Plot. In interrupting prayer
Satan hath a plot against God.
The devil knows very well that not the least part of his tribute of
honour is paid by the Christian upon his knees in this solemn act of divine
worship, to intercept which is both his great ambition and endeavour. Nay, he despairs not—if his design
takes—to make the Christian dishonour him most, where God looks his name should
be above all sanctified. Indeed,
those have the unhappy opportunity of casting the greatest indignities on God
who are admitted to stand nearest to him. Should he who hath the honour to set the crown on his
prince’s head, bring it in a filthy case, and so clap it on—or, instead of the
king’s own royal crown bring some ridiculous one of straw, or such like stuff
contrived on purpose to make laughter—what greater scorn could such a one possibly
invent to throw upon his prince?
The attributes of God are his royal diadem, and it is no small honour
that the great God puts upon the Christian, by admitting him as it were to set
this crown upon his head, which he doth when in prayer he gives him the glory
of his majesty and holiness, power and mercy, truth and faithfulness, &c.,
with such humble adoration, and holy ravishment of affection, as may comport
with the indefinite perfections of his deity.
But
if our present thoughts in prayer be not of God, or not suitable to God and
these his glorious excellencies, we pollute his name, and not honour it. We
mock him, not worship him. In a
word, we pull off his crown as much as in us lies, rather than set it on. Now doth not thy heart tremble,
Christian, in thy bosom, to think thou should be Satan's instrument to offer
such an indignity as this unto thy God and King? Thou art, if a saint, the temple of the Holy Ghost; prayer,
the spiritual sacrifice which from the altar of a humble heart thou art to
offer; wilt thou now suffer Satan to sit in this temple of God, and exalt
himself there—by any vain, much less vile, thoughts—above God himself, whom
thou art worshipping? Suppose,
while a prince is at dinner, a company of impudent ruffians should rush into
the room through the negligence of the prince’s servants that are waiting on
him, and they should throw the dishes, one this way, another that way, would
not these servants deserve a severe rebuke that looked no better to the
door? Ordinances of worship are
God’s table, the sacrifices under the law called God’s food and bread. When the saint is praying the King of
heaven sits at his table, Song
1:12. The dishes served up are the graces of
his Spirit in the saint. Now wandering
thoughts, they come in and turn the table as it were upside down; they spill
the spikenard which thou wouldst pour forth. How ill may thy God take it that thou lookest no better to
the door of thy heart!
Second
Plot. In interrupting prayer
Satan hath a plot against thee, Christian.
1.
If he can get thee to sport with these, or sluggishly yield to them without
making any vigourous resistance, that prayer, he knows, will neither do him
hurt nor thyself good. Dost
[thou] think God will welcome that prayer to heaven which hath not thy heart to
bear it company thither? And how
can thy heart go with it when thou hast sent it another way? It were a vain
thing to expect that ship should make a prosperous voyage which is set adrift
to sea to be carried whither every wave it meets will drive it, without any
pilot to steer it to a certain haven, or such a one that hath no skill or care
to hold the helm with a steady hand.
Such are the prayers that come from a roving heart. Will God hear thee when thou mockest
him? And if this be not to mock
him, what is? Like children that
give a knock at a door and then run away to their play again, thus thou rearest
up thy voice to God, and then art gone in thy roving thoughts to hold chat with
the world or worse, forgetting whom thou spakest last to. Is not this to play bo‑peep with
God? Magnam injuriam Deo facio,
cum precor, ut meas preces exaudiat, quas ego qui fundo, non exaudio; deprecor
illum, ut mihi intendat, ego vero, nec mihi, nec mihi, intendo. Thus the holy man complains of himself
how injurious and unworthy of God his carriage was in prayer—‘I would have
God,’ saith he, ‘hear my prayer which myself doth not, when I put it up; I
would have God’s ear attentive to me, when I neither mind God nor myself when I
pray.’
2.
He disturbs thee in praying, that he may make thee weary of praying. Indeed, he is not likely to miss his
mark if thou lettest these vermin go on to breed in thy heart; for these will
rob thee of the sweetness of the duty; and when the marrow is once out, thou
wilt easily be persuaded to throw the bone away. Omnis vita gustu ducitur—he is in danger to forsake
his meat who hath lost his relish of it.
Prayer is a tedious work to him that hath no pleasure in performing of
it; and weariness in it stands next door to being weary of it.
3.
Thou provokest the Spirit of God—that alone can carry you through the work—to withdraw
his assistance. Who will help
him that minds not what he does?
You know what Joab said to David when he indulged his inordinate passion
for the loss of Absalom, ‘If thou go not forth, there will not tarry one with
thee this night: and that will be worse unto thee than all the evil that befell
thee,’ II
Sam. 19:7.
Truly, either thou must speedily rouse thyself out of thy sloth and
non-attendance, or else the Spirit will be gone; and he departed, it will be
worse with thee than ever. Who
hast thou then to help thee in thy work?
And thou wilt find it harder to bring him back, than to keep him from
going. The necessary infirmities
which cleave to thy imperfect state, if protested against, shall not drive him
away; but if thou lettest them nestle in thy heart, he takes it as thy giving
him warning to be gone. An affront
done to an ambassador by the baser sort of people as he walks in the
street—while resident in a foreign state—may be passed over; but when such
shall find countenance from the prince, it then makes a breach. Take heed, therefore, of showing favour
to such disturbers of the league betwixt God and thy soul. Thy heart, which should be a house of
prayer, Christ will not endure to have it a place of merchandise. Either thou must whip these buyers and
sellers out, or the Spirit will go.
We read of an ‘abomination of desolation standing in the holy place,’ Matt. 24:15, which some
interpret to be the Roman ensigns there displayed when Jerusalem was
taken. This abomination ushered
desolation. What dost thou, by thy
roving thoughts, but set up an abomination in the temple of thy heart? O! down with these, as thou wouldst not
be left desolate, and wholly void of God’s gracious presence with thee.
Question. But, it may be, now you will ask, ‘What
counsel can you give to arm us against both these incursions of Satan and bubblings
of our own vain hearts in prayer?
How can we keep either our hearts in, or these out?’
{Answer.}
Impossible, indeed, it may be wholly to prevent them, they come so suddenly and
secretly —even as lightning in at the window. We may as well keep the wind out of our house—which gets in
at every crevice, though the doors be shut—as wholly free our hearts from their
disturbance. Yet this will not
disoblige us from our utmost care and endeavour to hinder the prevalency of
them. Humours, while rouling here
and there, do not endanger us so much as when they gather to a head, and settle
in some joint and part of the body.
I have read of some eastern parts of the world, where such multitudes of
locusts and caterpillars are seen, that they almost darken the air as they fly,
and devour every green thing where they light. The inhabitants, therefore, when they perceive this army
hovering over them, by making fires in their fields, keep them from lighting
with the smoke that ascends therefrom.
Thou canst not hinder these roving thoughts from flying now and then
over thy head, but surely thou mayest do something that may prevent their
settling. Towards which good work
take these directions, which I shall endeavour to suit to these several causes
from whence they proceed. The
wanderings in prayer may be referred to four causes. First. The natural vanity and levity of our
minds. Second. A dead and
inactive heart in him that prayeth.
Third. Encumbrance of worldly cares. Fourth. Non‑observance
of the heart in the act of prayer.
[Four causes of
wandering thoughts in prayer.]
First
Cause. The first cause, and
indeed original of all other, is the natural vanity and levity of our minds,
which are as inconsistent as quicksilver, that hath, they say, principium
motus, sed non quietis —the principle of motion, but not of rest. They are as unstable as water, which
fluid element—as we see in a little of it poured on the ground—diffuseth itself
hither and thither, and so is soon drunk up and lost. Thus do our vain minds
scatter themselves into impertinencies; but never so much as when we are conversant
about spiritual duties. Then,
above all, we discover the lightness of our spirits. And this is not the least part of that evil which followed man’s
degeneracy, who by his fall wounded both head and heart. Now, though there be a cure in part
made by the grace of God as to both these in a saint, yet there still remains a
craze in his soul, whereby he is not able to dwell long upon spiritual things
without some dissipation of his thoughts, as innocent Adam could —who, before
his fall, might have walked through the whole world, and not have had one
thought of his heart misplaced, or turned from its right point by the diversity
of objects he met, they being all to the eye of his soul a clear medium,
through which it passed to terminate itself in God, as the air is now to our
bodily eye, through which it pierceth, and stays not till it comes at the body
of the sun. But, alas! it is with
us as with one that hath had his skull broke by some dangerous fall, who, when
recovered, finds his brain so weakened that, when he goes about any serious
business, he cannot intend much, or persist long, but is off and on, out and
in. Such vagaries and cross steps
do our hearts take in duty. And
this gives Satan advantage enough to work upon. If the ship be light for want of ballast, and a strong gust
of wind arises too, O how hard then is it to make it sail trim, or keep from
toppling over! A vain heart, and a
strong temptation together, makes sad work, when God stands by and gives Satan
leave to practice upon it. Be therefore careful to take in thy ballast before
thou puttest to sea. Labour to
poise thy heart before thou goest to pray. Which, that thou mayest do, improve the following
directions.
[Directions against levity in prayer.]
1.
Direction. Innure thyself
to holy thoughts in thy ordinary course. The best way to keep vessels from leaking—when we would use
them for some special occasion—is to let them stand full. A vain heart out of prayer will be
little better in prayer. The more
familiar thou makest holy thoughts and savoury discourse to thee in thy
constant walking, the more seasoned thou wilt find thy heart for this
duty. A scholar, by often rubbing
up his notions when alone, and talking of them with his colleagues, makes them
his own; so that, when he is put upon any exercise, they are at hand, and come
fresh into his head. Whereas another, for want of this filling, wants matter
for his thoughts to feed on, which makes him straggle into many impertinencies
before he can hit of that which suits his occasion. The carnal liberty which we give our hearts in our ordinary
walking, makes our thoughts more unruly and unsuitable for duties of
worship. For such thoughts and
words leave a tincture upon the spirit, and so hinder the soul’s taking a
better colour when it returns into the presence of God. Walk in the company of sinful thoughts
all the day, and thou wilt hardly shut the door upon them when thou goest into
thy closet. Thou hast taught them
to be bold; they will now plead acquaintance with thee, and crowd in after
thee; like little children, who, if you play with them, and carry them much in
your arms, will cry after you when you would be rid of their company.
2.
Direction. Possess thy
heart with a reverential awe of God’s majesty and holiness. This, if anything, will ‘gird up the
loins of thy mind’ strait, and make thee hoc agere —mind what thou art
about. Darest thou toy and trifle
with the divine majesty in a duty of his worship! carry thyself childishly
before the living God! to look with one eye upon him, as it were, and with the
other upon a lust! to speak one word to God, and chat two with the world! Does not thy heart tremble at this? Sic ora, saith Bernard, quasi
assumptus et prĉsentatus ante faciem ejus in excelso throno, ubi millia millium
ministrant ei—so pray as if thou wert taken up and presented before God sitting
on his royal throne on high, with millions of millions of his glorious
servitors ministering to him in heaven.
Certainly the face of such a court would awe thee. If thou wert but at the bar before a
judge, and hadst a glass of a quarter of an hour’s length turned up—being all
the time thou hadst allowed thee to improve for the begging of thy life, now
forfeited and condemned—wouldst thou spare any of this little time to gaze
about the court, to see what clothes this man had on, and what lace another
wears? God shame us for our folly
in misspending our praying seasons.
Is it not thy life thou art begging at God’s hand; and that a better, I
trow, than the malefactor sues for of his mortal judge? And dost thou know whether thou shalt
have so long as a quarter of an hour allowed thee when thou art kneeling down?
And yet wilt thou scribble and dash it out to no purpose upon
impertinencies? If thou dost, why
no better? Why no closer and compact in thy thoughts? Will God judge us for
‘every idle word’ that is spoken in our shop and house, at our work, yea sport
and recreation? And shall thy idle
words in prayer not be accounted for?
And are not those idle words that come from a lazy heart, a sleepy
heart, that minds not what it says?
What procured Nadab and Abihu so sudden and strange an death? Was it not their strange incense? And is not this strange praying, when
thy mind is a stranger to what thy lips utter? Behave thyself thus to thy
prince if thou darest. Let thy
hand reach a petition to him, and thine eye look or thy tongue talk to another;
would he not command this clown, or rather madman, to be taken from before
him? ‘Have I need of mad men, that
ye have brought this fellow to play the mad man in my presence?’ I Sam. 21:15, said
Achish when David behaved himself discomposedly. O! could you but look through the keyhole, and see how
glorious angels in heaven serve their Maker, who are said to ‘behold the face
of God continually,’ surely thou wouldst tremble to think of thy slightly
performing this duty.
3.
Direction. Go not in thy
own strength to this duty, but commit thyself by faith to the conduct of the
Spirit of God. God hath
promised to prepare, or establish, as the word is, the heart. Indeed, then the heart is prepared when
established and fixed. A shaking
hand may soon write a right line as our loose hearts keep themselves steady in
duty. Shouldst thou, with Job,
make a covenant with thine eye, and resolve to bung up thine ear from all by‑discourse,
how long, thinkest thou, shouldst thou be true to thine own self, who hast so
little command of thine own thoughts?
Thy best way were to put thyself out of thine own hands, and lay thy
weight on him that is able to bear thee better than thy own legs. Pray with David, ‘Uphold me with thy
free spirit,’ Ps.
51:12. The vine leaning on a wall preserves itself
and its fruit, whose own weight else, without this help, would soon lay it in
the dirt.
Second
Cause. A second cause of
these wandering roving thoughts in prayer, is a dead and unactive heart in
him that prayeth. If the
affections be once down, then the Christian is as a city whose wall is broken
down. No keeping then the thoughts
in, or Satan out. The soul is an
active creature. Either it must be
employed by us, or it will employ us, though to little purpose. Like our poor, find them work and they
keep at home. But let them want
for it, and you have them roving and begging all the country over. The
affections are as the master-workmen, which set our thoughts on work. Love entertains the soul with pleasant
and delightful thoughts on its beloved object. Grief commands in the soul to
muse with sorrowful thoughts on its ail and trouble. So that, Christian, as long as thy heart bleeds in the sense
of sin, they will have no leisure, when thou art confessing sin, to rove and
wander. If thy desires be lively,
and flame forth in thy petitions, with a holy zeal for the graces and mercies
prayed for, this will be as ‘a wall of fire’ to keep thy thoughts at home.
The
lazy prayer is the roving prayer.
When Israel talked of travelling three days’ journey in the wilderness,
Pharaoh said, ‘Ye are idle, ye are idle; therefore ye say, Let us go.’ As if he had said, ‘Surely they have
little to do, or else they would not think of gadding.’ And therefore, to cure them of this, he
commanded more work to be given, Ex. 5. We may truly say thus of our wandering hearts, ‘They are
idle.’ We pray, but our affections are dead and dull. The heart hath little to do in the duty for the setting of
its thoughts on work—only to speak or read a few words, which is so easy a task
that a man may do it and spare whole troops of his thoughts to be employed elsewhere
at the same time. But now, when
the affections are up, melting into sorrow in the confession of sin, sallying
forth with holy panting and breathing in its supplications, truly this fixeth
the thoughts. The soul intended
can no more be in two places together than the body. And as these holy affections will prevent the soul’s
wandering disposition, so also make it more difficult for Satan to throw in his
injections. Flies will not so readily light on a pot seething hot on the fire
as when it stands cold in the window. Baalzebub is one of the devil’s
names—that is, the god os a fly—an allusion to the idolatrous sacrifices, where
flies were so busy. This fly will
not so readily light on thy sacrifice when flaming from the altar of thy heart
with zeal.
Now,
to preserve thy affections in prayer warm and lively, let it be thy care to
chase and stir up the natural heat that is undoubtedly in thee, if a Christian,
by the serious consideration of thy sins, wants, and mercies. While thou art pondering on these,
thine eye will affect thine heart.
They will, as Abishag did to David, by laying them in thy bosom, bring
thy soul to a kindly heat in those affections which thou art to act in the
several parts of prayer. Thy sins
reviewed, and heightened with their aggravations, will make the springs of
godly sorrow to rise in thy heart. Canst thou choose but mourn when thou shalt
read thy several indictments to thy guilty soul, now called to hold up its hand
at the bar of thy conscience? Canst thou hear how the holy law of God hath been
violated, his Spirit grieved, and his Son murdered by thy bloody hands, and
this when he hath been treating thee mercifully, and not mourn? Surely, should a man walk over a field
after a bloody battle hath been fought, and there see the bodies, though of his
enemies, lying weltering in their blood, his heart could not but then relent,
though in the heat of battle his fury shut out all thoughts of pity. But what if he should spy a father or a
dear friend dead upon the place, of the wounds which his unnatural hand had
given, would not his bowels turn?
Yes, surely, if he carried the heart of a man in his bosom. Thou mayest guess, Christian, by this,
what help such a mediation would afford toward the breaking of thy heart for
thy sins. Certainly it would make
thee throw away that unhappy dagger which was the instrument to give those deep
stabs to the heart of Christ—and this is the best mourning of all. Again, thy wants well weighed would
give wings to thy desires. If once
thou wert possessed with the true state of thy affairs—how necessary it is for thee
to have supplies from heaven, or to starve and die. And so in the rest, &c.
Third
Cause. A third cause of roving
thoughts, is encumbrance of worldly cares. It is no wonder that man can enjoy no privacy with God in a
duty, who hath so many from the world rapping at his door to speak with him
when he is speaking with God. Periclitatur
pietas in negotiis—religion never goes in more danger than when in a crowd
of worldly business. If such a
one prays, it is not long before something comes in his head to take him
off. ‘Isaac went out to
meditate,...and behold the camels.’
The world is soon in such a one's sight. He puts forth one hand to heaven in a spiritual thought, but
soon pulls it back, and a worldly one steps before it, and so makes a breach
upon his duty. ‘A dream,’ Solomon
tells us, ‘cometh through a multitude of business.’ And so do dreaming prayers. They are made up of heterogeneous independent
thoughts. The shop, barn, warehouse
are unfit places for prayer—I mean the shop in the heart, and the barn in the
heart. I have read of one who was
said to be a walking library, because he left not his learning with his books
in his study, but carried it about with him wherever he went, in his memory and
judgment, that had digested all he read, and so made it his own. And have we not too many walking shops
and barns, who carry them to bed and board, church and closet? And how can such pray with a united
heart, who have so many sharers in their thoughts? O anima sancta sola esto, anne nescis verecundum habes
Sponsum!—O, holy soul, get thee alone, if thou wouldst have Christ give
thee his loves. Knowest thou not thou hast a modest husband? Indeed he gives
the soul not his embraces in a crowd, nor the kisses of his lips in the
market. Jacob sends away his
company to the other side of the river, and then God gave him one of the sweetest
meetings he had in all his life.
Let him now pray even a whole night if he will, and welcome. Now, Christian, for thy help against
these—
[Directions against the encumbrance
of worldly cares in
prayer.]
1.
Direction. Labour to keep
thy distance to the world, and that sovereignty which God hath given thee
over in its profits and pleasures, or whatever else may prove a snare to
thee. While the father and master
know their place and keep their distance, so long will servants and children
will keep theirs, by being dutiful and officious. But, when they forget this—the father grows fond of the one,
and the master too familiar with the other—then they begin to lose their
authority, and the other to grow saucy and under no command. Bid them go, and it may be they will not
stir. Set them a task, and they
will bid you do it yourself.
Truly thus it fares with the Christian. All the creatures are his servants. And so long as he keeps his heart at a
holy distance from them, and maintains his lordship over them, not laying them
in his bosom which God hath put under his feet, Ps. 8, all is well. He marches to the
duties of God's worship in a goodly order. He can be private with God, and these not be bold to crowd
in to disturb him. But when we
grow fond of, and too familiar with, them, alas! how are we pestered with
them! We read of no undutifulness
of Hagar towards her mistress while a servant; but when Sarah gives her into
Abraham's bosom, and admits her to share with herself in conjugal privileges,
truly then she begins to justle with her mistress, and carries herself saucily
to her. Yea, and Abraham himself,
who would not have stuck to have put her away before, yet now he hath taken her
into his bed, can hardly persuade his heart to yield to it, till God joins with
Sarah in the business, bidding him ‘hearken unto his wife.’
Thus,
Christian, use the world as a servant —which it was made for—and you may go to
prayer, as Abraham up the mount, leaving his servants below. Thou shalt find
they will not have that power to disturb thee. But, let either profits or pleasures share with Christ in
thy conjugal affection, and thou wilt find thy heart loath to send this Hagar
away, though at the request of Christ himself, when he is calling thee into
communion with himself. Either use
the world as if thou usedst it not, or you will pray as if you prayed not. The smoke and sparks that rise from a
furnace are carried that way the wind lies. If thy heart be to the world, thou canst not then keep thy
thoughts from driving thither.
Then, and not till then, will thy prayer ascend like a pillar of
incense, when there is a holy calmness on thy spirit, and this boisterous wind
of inordinate affections to the world be laid. I must not take thee off from diligence in thy worldly
calling; this never spoils a good prayer, only watch thy heart that thou
prostitute it not to the wanton embraces of it. That is the pure metalled sword or knife which bends this
way and that way, but returns to its straightness again, and stands not bent.
That heart is of the right make, and hath heaven’s stamp upon it, which can
stoop and bend to the lowest action of his worldly calling, but then returns
to his fitness for communion with God, and his heart stands not bent to the
creature, but in a direct line to God and his worship.
2.
Direction. Strengthen thy faith
on the providence of God for the things of this life. A distrustful heart is ever
thoughtful. Whatever he is doing,
his thoughts will be on that he fears he shall lose. When the merchant's adventure is insured—that whatever comes
he cannot lose much—his heart then is at rest, he can eat his bread with quiet,
and sleep without dreaming of shipwrecks and pirates. While another, whose estate is at sea, and fears what will
become of it, O how is this poor man haunted wherever he is going, whatever he
is doing, with disquieting thoughts! If he hears the wind but a little loud, he
cannot sleep for fear of his ship at sea.
Truly thus a soul by faith rolled on the promise will find a happy
deliverance from that disturbance which another is pestered with in
prayer. Wherefore God in
particular directs us to lay this burden from our shoulders on his, when we go
to pray, that no by‑thoughts arising from these our cares may disturb us. ‘Be careful for nothing, but...let your
requests be made known unto God,’ Php. 4:6. As if he had said, ‘Leave me to take care of your work, and
mind you to do mine. If things go
amiss in your estates, names, families, I will take the blame, and give you
leave to say God was not careful enough of you.’ When the males of Israel went to worship God at Jerusalem,
that they might not carry distracted minds with them—from the fear of their
families left naked behind without a man to fight for them if an enemy should
come—God takes the special care of their families in their absence, Ex. 34:24. If we have but a faithful servant, who
we believe will look to our business as carefully as our own selves, this makes
us go forth with a free and quiet spirit, and not trouble ourselves what is
done at home when we are abroad. O then, let us be ashamed if our faith on
God’s providence be not much more able to ease us of the burden of distracting
cares.
Fourth
Cause. These wandering
thoughts are occasioned by the Christian’s non‑observance of his heart in
the act of prayer. Let him be
at never so much cost of preparatory pains before duty, yet if he doth not
watch himself narrowly in the duty itself, his heart will give him the slip,
and run into a thousand vanities and impertinencies. The mind of man is a nimble creature; in one moment you
shall have it in heaven, and in the very next you shall find it on the
earth. Like Philip, who being
joined to the eunuch’s chariot, on a sudden was carried out of his sight, and
found at Azotus, a place far distant thence; thus our hearts are soon gone away
from the duty in hand, and taken a vagary to the furthest part of the world in
their wild imagination. Yea—which
is worse—sometimes the mind is off and gadding, but the Christian goes on with
his lip-labour and takes no notice that his thoughts are gone astray; as Joseph
and Mary were gone a day’s journey before they missed their child, who stayed
behind with other company. Thus
the Christian loses his heart in duty, and goes on with a careless formality,
that sometimes the prayer is almost done before he observes his heart’s seat
to be empty, or considers that his soul and spirit hath not borne him company
all the way; who, had he but at the first stepping aside of his thoughts been
aware, might have recovered and rescued them out of the hands of those vanities
which stole them, as David did his wives and children from the Amalekites,
without any great trouble or loss.
And therefore, Christian, keep thy heart with all diligence; observe
whether it doth its part in the duty, or be as a string that sounds not in the
concert. As you do with your
children, so you had need do with your childish mind. Haply they wait on you to
church, but when you are set, if not awed by your eye, they are gone, and may
be playing all sermon time in the fields, and you miss them not; to prevent
which, you set them before you that you may see their carriage and their
behaviour. If thou didst thus pray, observing and watching thy thoughts, where,
and what about, thou wouldst find more composure in thy spirit than thou dost.
Nay,
do not only observe thy thoughts in duty, but call them to review after
duty. Many go from prayer too much
like boys from school, that think no more of their lesson till they return
again—leave praying, and all thoughts how they behaved themselves in prayer,
together. For shame do not
thus. If thou neglectest to take
account of thyself, consider that thou must give an account both of it and this
thy neglect after it before thy betters.
God himself will have the full hearing thereof. He sets not any about a work, of which
he means not to take cognizance how it was done. And were it not better that the audit should be in thy more
private court, than thou be called to give up thy account at his dreadful
tribunal? Resolve therefore to commune with thy heart upon this point; and the
sooner thou goest about it the better it is like to be done, because then the
circumstances of the action will be freshest in thy memory. Go not then out of
thy closet till thou hast examined thy heart. If thy thoughts in prayer shall be found to have been in any
measure free and entire, thy affections warm and lively, matter of joy will
arise to thee, and thanksgiving to God that thou hast escaped the hands of so
many rovers and freebooters that lay in wait to make prize of thee. But, take heed thou applaudest not
thyself for thine own care and circumspection. Alas! thou wert not thine own keeper. He that lent his ear to thy prayer gave
thee thy heart to pray, and also keep it up in duty. Say rather with David, ‘Who am I, that I should be able to
offer so willingly?’ If thy heart
upon the review be found to have played the truant, take shame, that thou beest
not put to shame before the Lord.
O blush to think thou shouldst be so unfaithful to God and thine own
soul, yea so foolish, to run up and down on every idle errand which Satan sends
thee, and in the meanwhile neglect thy own work of so great an importance! The spouse’s complaint may fit thy
mouth: ‘They made me the keeper of the vineyards, but mine own vineyard have I
not kept.’
He
is an unwise messenger who, being sent to market to provide food, is drawn by
every idle companion to spend both his time and money in vain, and at night
comes home without bread for the hungry family. O! Christian, was not thy errand to the throne of grace to
get new supplies from heaven for thy poor soul? And doth it not grieve thee to think that now thy soul must
pinch, for thy playing away thy praying time and talent, which, as market
money, was put into thy hand to procure a new store? Yea, that thou hast been injurious to thy God by taking his
name in vain? Thou appearedst in a
praying posture; thy hand voice were lift up to heaven, as if thou meantest to
pray; but—like him who said he would go into the vineyard, and did not—thou
hast turned a contrary way, and set thy thoughts to work in another field. Will not this affect thy heart? Yes, surely, and afflict it also. And this affliction of thy spirit will
be a sovereign means to excite thy care for the future. The faults which are
unobserved are also uncorrected in the scholar's exercise, and so not like to
be mended in the next. Wandering
thoughts in prayer are like vagrants.
No such way to rid the country of one, and the heart of the other, as by
giving both the law—the lash, I mean.
Question. O! but, saith the Christian, I have
used this means, and yet, to the grief of my heart, I am still pestered with
them.
Answer. Take a few consolatory words to ease
thy aching heart, that groans under the burden of these thy wandering
thoughts.
[Consolatory thoughts
for the Christian too
much downcast through
wanderings in prayer.]
1.
Thought. The affliction of
thy spirit for them speaks more comfort to thee, than the presence of them
discomfort. That thou art
annoyed with such troublesome guests is no more than the best of saints have
found and acknowledged. Wherefore
did David pray that God would ‘unite his heart to fear his name,’ but that he
found it gadding? What means Paul
by his complaint, ‘When I would do good, evil is present with me,’ but that he
had not yet got the full mastery of his unruly thoughts? Thou seest it is no new disease thou
art troubled with, but such as is common, not only to the sons of men, but the
children of God—a spot that may be seen on a saint’s coat. But thy being afflicted for them,
speaks one of these two things—and both of them have comfort in their mouth for
thee. It proves that they are
either Satan’s injections, and not the birth of thine own heart; or, if they
stream from thy own heart, yet the Spirit of God is the indweller, and these
but intruders.
(1.)
The moan thou makest for being yoked to such company is a sign they are rather
sent in by Satan, than called in by thee—his injections, rather than the
suggestions of thy own heart. Our
own thoughts commonly are more taking with and pleasurable to us. The mother does not more love the fruit
of her own body, than we do the product of our minds. Hence our ‘own ways,’ words, and thoughts are called our
‘pleasure,’ Isa.
58:13,
and therefore they may be possibly shot from his bow—thy heart being so
affrighted at them, and wounded for them.
Or,
(2.)
If they prove the offspring of thine own mind, yet thy afflicted soul shows
that the Spirit and grace of God is the indweller, and these but
intruders and involuntary motions, such as in thy deliberate thoughts thou
abhorrest. Were they, as I may so
say, of thy own house and family, thou wouldst not show this zeal to shut the
door upon them, or shriek out when they come in upon thee. The wife does not cry out when husband,
children, or servants come into the room, but when thieves and cutthroats, from
whom she looks for nothing but cruelty.
It seems they are neither of thine acquaintance, nor likest thou their
company, by thy behaviour before them.
Be not therefore over‑troubled; for Satan, if he can but disquiet thy
mind with false fears, he hath one part of his errand done for which he sends
them. These wicked thoughts are
upon no other terms with thee than holy thoughts are in the wicked. As those profit not them, because not
entertained; so, for the same reason, shall not these hurt thee.
2.
Thought. Know these be the
necessary infirmities of thy imperfect state; and, so long as thou art
faithful to resist and mourn for them, they rather move God’s pity to thee than
wrath against thee. It is one
thing for a child, employed by his father, willingly or negligently to spoil
the work he sets him about; and another, when through natural weakness he fails
in the exact doing of it. Should a
master bid his servant give him a cup of wine, and he should willingly throw
both glass and wine on the ground, he might expect his master’s just
displeasure. But if, through some
unsteadiness—it may be palsy in his hand—he should, notwithstanding all his
care, spill some of it in the bringing, an ingenuous master will rather pity
him for his disease, than be angry for the wine that is lost. And did God ever give his servants
occasion to think him a hard master?
Hath he not promised, ‘that he will spare us as a father his child that
serves him?’ From whence come all
the apologies which he makes for his people's failings if not from his merciful
heart, interpreting them candidly to proceed rather from their want of skill
than will, power, or desire? ‘Is not this a brand plucked out of the fire?’ Zech. 3:2, is
Christ’s answer in the behalf of Joshua, whom Satan accused for his filthy
garments. ‘The Spirit indeed is
willing, but the flesh is weak,’ Matt. 26:41, was his favourable gloss for his
disciples’ drowsiness in prayer.
3.
Thought. Believers’ prayers
pass a refining before they come into God’s hands. Did he indeed read them with their impertinences,
and take our blotted copy out of our hand, we could not fear too much what the
issue might be. But they come
under the corrector’s hand. Our
Lord Jesus hath the inspection of them, who sets right all our broken requests
and misplaced petitions. He washes
out our blots with his blood. His
mediation is the fine searce[2] through
which our prayers are bolted. All
that is coarse and heterogeneous he severs from the pure. What is of his own
Spirit’s breathing he presents, and what our fleshly part added he hides, that
it shall not prejudice us or our prayers.
This was the sweet gospel truth wrapped up in the priest’s bearing the
sins of their holy offerings, Ex. 28:38.
4.
Thought. Though the
presence of these be a great affliction to thee, yet God will make them of
singular use to thee. (1.) To
humble thee, and take all glorying from thee, that thou shalt not pride thyself
in thy other assistances, which thou wouldst be prone to do if thy prayer had
not this lame foot to humble thee.
(2.) To keep thee wakeful and circumspect in thy Christian course. By thy disturbance from these thou seest
the war is not yet quite done. The Canaanite is yet in the land. Though not master of the field, he is
yet skulking in his holes and fastnesses, out of which he comes like an adder
in the path, that by these sudden surprises and nibbling at thy heel he may
make thee, like the rider, fall backward, and so steal a victory unawares of
thee, whom he despairs to overcome in a pitched battle by sins more
deliberate. And truly, if he dare
be so bold as to set upon thee when in communion with God—so nigh thy rock and
castle—doth it not behoove thee, Christian, to look about thee, that he gets no
greater advantage of thee when thou art at further distance from him in thy
worldly employments? (3.) God will
make thee by these more merciful to, and less censorious of, thy brethren of
greater failings.
5.
Thought. In thy faithful
conflict with them thou mayest promise thyself, at last, victory over them. But expect this gradually to be done;
not at once, nor hastily, to be delivered into thy hands, as God said of
Israel’s enemies. Therefore,
maintain the fight: faint not at their stubborn resistance; pray, and mourn
that thou canst pray no better; mourn and fight again; fight and believe them
down, though sometimes they get thee under their feet. God made a promise to Noah after the
flood, in which he gave him a sovereignty over the creatures. ‘The fear of you and the dread of you shall
be upon every beast of the earth,’ Gen. 9:2. But we see many beasts are fierce, savage, and cruel to
mankind. Yet thus it is fulfilled
—that none are so fierce and unruly but, by man’s art and industry, they have
been and still are taken and tamed, as the apostle hath it, James 3:7. Thus God hath given his saints by
promise, a sovereignty over sin and Satan; he will subdue both under your feet.
The dread of the saints shall fall on the proudest devil, and his foot shall be
set on the neck of the fiercest lust.
Yet this will cost hot work before the one or other be effected.
[Satan strives to hinder the success of prayer.]
Third Design. The third and last design that Satan hath against the saint
in this great undertaking of prayer, is to hinder his success therein. He will have thee, Christian, if he
can, one way or other, outwards or homewards; and it comes all to one whether
the ship be taken as it goes forth or as it returns home. Nay, of the two it is the greater loss
to be defeated of our expectations when we look for our prayers to come richly
fraught with mercies from heaven. Now, two ways he labours to hinder the success of prayer.
First. He endeavours to hinder the welcome of
their prayers with God, that they may be cast as a petition out of court which
God will not look on.
Second. If he cannot prevail in this, then he plays
an after-game, and will so handle the matter, if possible, that though the
prayers have a welcome with God, and find gracious reception in heaven, yet
that this be not believed by the saint on earth, but that he gives them up for
lost and looks no more after them.
Now though this be not a total and final miscarriage of the prayer, yet
the devil hath hereby a great advantage, depriving him of the present comfort
and benefit which his fight might pay him in before a return is made of his
prayer.
[Satan would hinder
the success of the saints’ prayers,
by getting them to be such as would be
unwelcome
with God.]
First
way of Hinderance. Satan
endeavours to hinder the welcome of the saints’ prayers with God, that
they may be cast as a petition out of court which God will not look on. He labours to hinder even the entertainment
of our prayers in heaven. Now our
prayers may several ways be stopped at heaven’s door, and denied that gracious
access which God useth to give. I
speak now of saints’ prayers. As
for the prayers of the wicked, there is one law for them all —to be cast over
the bar and the door shut upon them.
The tree must be good before the fruit it bears can be sweet on God’s
palate. Now the stoppage which the
saint’s prayer meets withal, springs not from any unwillingness in God to give
out his mercy, or any dislike to have beggars at his door. Adeo placet Deo dare, ut propter
hoc omnia creavit, volebat enim habere quĉ et quibus dare—God is so delighted
with acts of mercy, that therefore he made the world, and all in it, that he
might have suitors to beg and alms to give those suitors. But from ourselves we put the stones
into the lock, which hinders the turning of prayer’s key in it, and so indeed
we shut the door of mercy upon ourselves.
The devil himself could not immediately hinder a saint’s welcome. He hath not such command of God's ear,
did we not put words into his mouth, and help him to a charge against us. The
lies which he, as a false accuser carries to God, shall not prejudice us in
God's thoughts or make our prayers less acceptable; but if the accusation be
true, God will hear it, though he be a wicked spirit that tells the tale, and
we his dear children of whom it is told.
A father, when he hears of some wicked prank his child hath played, will
chide and frown on him, though it be an enemy that told him of it. Now, to instance what miscarriages in a
saint hinder their audience at the throne of grace. 1. When the thing prayed for is not according to the will of
God. 2. When the end the saint
aims at is not levelled right. 3.
When with his prayer he joins not a diligent use of the means. 4. When some secret grudge is lodged in
his heart against his brother. 5.
When there is a want of faith.
[Miscarriages in a praying saint which
hinder his audience
in heaven.]
1.
Miscarriage. When the thing
prayed for is not according to the will of God. We have not a liberty to pray at random for what we
will. The throne of grace is not
set up that we may come and there vent our sudden distempered passions before
God, or make any saucy motion to him that comes in our head. Truly then God
would have work enough. If we had
promised to sign all our petitions without any regard to the subject‑matter of
them, he should too oft set his hand against himself, and pass that away which
would be little for his glory to give.
Herod was too lavish when he gave his minion leave to ask what she
would, even to half of his kingdom.
And he paid dearly for it; he gave her that head which was more worth
than his whole kingdom—for the cutting off his head lost him his crown. No, we have to do with a wise God, who,
to stop the mouth of all such bold beggars, that would ask what unbeseems us to
desire, or him to give, hath given a law of prayer, and stinted us to the
matter thereof: ‘When ye pray, say, Our Father,’ &c. That is, learn here what you may pray
for in faith to receive. ‘And this
is the confidence that we have in him, that, if we ask any thing according to
his will, he heareth us,’ I
John 5:14.
Faith,
without a promise, is like a foot without any firm ground to stand upon. It was well Luther interpreted himself,
when he said, fiat voluntas mea —my will be done—mea, Domine, quia
tua—my will, Lord, because thine.
Now, the promise contains this will of God. Be sure thou gatherest all thy flowers of prayer out of this
garden, and thou canst not do amiss.
But take heed of mingling with them any wild gourd of thine own. Remember the check our Lord gave his
disciples when venting their vindictive passion in their prayer: ‘Wilt thou
that we command fire to come down from heaven, and consume them?...And he said,
Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of,’ Luke 9:54, 55. They had here an example to
countenance their act. But that heroicus
impetus, and extraordinary spirit by which Elijah and other of the prophets
were acted, is not our standing rule for prayer. That came in them from the Spirit of God, which in us
may proceed from the spirit of the devil, which is implied in our Saviour's
question, ‘Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of.’ As if he had said, ‘You little think
who stirred you up. You had your
coal, not from God’s altar, but from Satan’s furnace.’
O!
let us beware that we be not the devil’s messengers in going to God upon his
errand; which we do when we pray against the rule or without a warrant. Belch
not out thy unruly passions of anger there, presently to have thine enemies
confounded—the disciples’ case; nor vent thy intemperate sorrow through
impatience—as Job in the paroxysm of his trouble begs of God to take away his
life in all haste. Take counsel of the word, and ‘let not thy lip be hasty to
utter a matter before the Lord.’
Daniel’s method was the right, Dan. 9:2. First, he goes to the Scripture and searches what the mind
of God was concerning the time when he had promised his people a return out of
their captivity, which having found, and learned thereby how to lay his plea,
then away he goes to besiege the throne of grace. ‘And I set my face unto the Lord God, to seek by prayer,’
&c., ver.
3. Art thou sick or poor?—in want of any
temporal mercy? Go and inquire upon what terms these are promised, that thy
faith may not jet beyond the foundation of the promise by a peremptory and
absolute desire of them, for then thy building will fall, and thou be put to
shame, because thou askest more than God ever promised.
2.
Miscarriage. Though the
subject‑matter of a saint’s prayer be bottomed on the word, yet if the end
he aims at be not levelled right, this is a second door at which his prayer
will be stopped, though it pass the former. ‘Ye ask and receive not, because ye ask amiss, that ye may
consume it upon your lusts.’ Take, I confess, a Christian in his right temper,
and he levels at the glory of God.
Yet as a needle is touched with a lodestone may, being shaken, be
removed from its beloved point, to which nature hath espoused it, though
trembling till it again recovers it; so, a gracious soul may, in a particular
act and request, vary from this end, being jogged by Satan, yea disturbed by an
enemy nearer home, his own unmortified corruption. Truly he is a rare archer that ever hits the white. Do you
not think it possible for a saint, in distress of body and spirit, to pray for
health in the one, and comfort in the other, with too selfish a respect had to
his own ease and quiet? Yes sure,
and to pray for gifts and assistance in some eminent service, with an eye asquint
to his own credit and applause, to pray for a child with too inordinate a
desire that the honour of his house may be built up in him—I know none so
seasoned with grace as not to be subject to such warpings of spirit. And this may be understood as the
sense, in part, of that expression: ‘If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord
will not hear me, but verily the Lord hath heard me,’ Ps. 66:18. For, to desire our own health, peace,
and reputation, be not an iniquity —when contained in the banks that God hath
set —yet, when they overflow, and are to such a height lift up as to overtop
the glory of God, yea to stand but in a level with it, they are a great
abomination. That which in the
first or second degree is wholesome food, would be rank poison in the fourth or
fifth.
Therefore,
Christian, catechise thyself before thou prayest, O my soul, what sends thee on
this errand? Know but thy own
mind, what thou prayest for, and thou mayest soon know God’s mind how thou
shalt speed. Secure God his glory,
and thou mayest carry away the mercy with thee. Had Adonijah asked Abishag out of love to her person, and
not rather out of love to the crown, it is like Solomon would not have denied
the banns between them; but this wise prince observed his drift, to make her
but a step to his getting into the throne, which he ambitiously thirsted for,
and therefore his request was denied with so much disdain. Look that, when thy petition is loyal,
there be not treason in thy end and aim.
If there be, he will find it out.
Question. When shall I know that I aim at God or
self in prayer?
Answer. This will commonly appear by the posture
of our heart when God delays or denies the thing we pray for. A soul that can acquiesce, and
patiently bear a delay or denial—I speak now of such mercies as are of an
inferior nature, not necessary to salvation, and so not absolutely
promised—gives a hopeful testimony that the glory of God weighs more in his
thoughts than his own private interest and accommodation. A selfish heart is both peremptory and
hasty. It must have the thing it
cries for, and that quickly too, or else it faints and chides, falls down in a
swoon, or breaks out into murmuring complaints, not sparing to fall foul on the
promises and attributes of God himself.
‘Wherefore have we fasted, say they, and thou seest not?’ Isa. 58:3. Now, from whence come both these, but
from an overvaluing of ourselves? —which makes us clash with God’s glory, that
may be more advanced by these delays and denials, than if we had the thing we
so earnestly desire. God was more
glorified in denying Christ himself his life, than if he had let that bitter
cup pass without his tasting of it, which Christ, understanding fully, resigned
himself thereunto, saying, ‘Father, glorify thy name; not my will, but thy will
be done,’ John
12:28[3]. As if he had said, I would not save my
life to lose thee the least of thy glory.
This is the copy we should all write after. Indeed, if our distempered
hearts be so wilful and hasty as not to be content with what, and that when it
pleaseth God also, he should not love us in gratifying such desires, for
thereby he would but nourish such distemper, which is better cured by starving
than feeding it.
3.
Miscarriage. The
Christian’s prayer may miscarry when, with his prayer, he joins not a
diligent use of the means. We
must not think to lie upon God, as some lazy people do on their rich kindred;
to be always begging of him, but not putting forth our hand to work in the use
of means. God hath appointed
prayer as a help to our diligence, not as a cloak for our sloth. Idle beggars are welcome neither to
God’s door nor man’s. What! wilt
thou lift up thy hands to God in prayer, and then put them in thy pocket? Doth not God forbid our charity to him
that worketh not? ‘We commanded
you, that if any would not work, neither should he eat,’ II Thes. 3:10. And will he encourage that idleness in
thee which he would have punished by us?
It is a good gloss of Bernard upon that of Jeremiah, ‘Let us lift up our
hearts with our hands unto God in the heavens,’ Lam. 3:41—qui orat et laborat, ille cor
levat ad Deum cum manibus—he that prayeth, and is diligent in the use of
means, is the person that lifts up his heart with his hands to God. Look therefore, Christian, thou
minglest thy sweat with thy tears, thy labour with thy prayers. If thy prayer doth not set thee on
work, neither will it set thy God at work for thee. Is it a lust thou art praying against? And dost thou sit down idle to see
whether it will now die alone?
Will that prayer slay one lust that lets another—thy sloth, I mean —live
under its nose? As God will not save
thy soul, so neither will he destroy thy sin, unless thy hand also be put to
the work. See how God raised
Joshua from off the earth, where he lay praying and mourning for Israel's
defeat, Joshua
7:10, 11:
‘Get thee up; wherefore liest thou thus upon thy face? Israel hath sinned,’
&c.; ver.
12,
‘Therefore the children of Israel could not stand before their enemies,’
&c.; ver.
13,
‘Up, sanctify the people.’
O
how oft may God rouse us up from our knees, and say, ‘Why lie ye here with your
lazy prayers? You have sinned in
not taking my counsel and obeying my orders. I bade you watch as well as pray; why do you not one as well
as the other? My command obliges
you to flee from the snare that Satan lays for you, as well as pray against it:
therefore it is you cannot stand before your lusts.’ Moses durst not go to God with a prayer in behalf of sinning
Israel till he had shown his zeal for God against their sin, and then he goes
and speeds; see
Ex. 32:25, compared with ver. 31.
Dost thou think to walk loosely all day, yielding thyself, and betraying
the glory of the God, into the hands of thy lust, and then mend all with a
prayer at night? Alas! thy
cowardice and sloth will get to heaven before thy prayer, and put thee to shame
when thou comest on such an errand.
4.
Miscarriage. The saint’s
prayer may miscarry from some secret grudge that is lodged in his heart
against his brother. Anger and
wrath are strange fire to put to our incense. It is a law writ upon every gate of God’s house—every
ordinance, I mean—at which we are to enter into communion with God, that we
must ‘love our brethren.’
When we go to hear the word, what is the caveat, but that we should ‘lay
aside all malice, envy, and evil‑speaking, and as new‑born babes, desire the
sincere milk of the word?’ The
gospel will not speak peace to a wrathful spirit. Anger and malice, like a salt corroding humour in the
stomach, makes us puke and cast up the milk of the word, that it cannot stay
with us for nourishment. Is it the
gospel supper thou sittest at?
This is a love-feast, and though it may be eaten with the bitter herbs
of sin’s sorrow, yet not with the sour leaven of wrath and malice. ‘When ye come together in the church, I
hear that there be divisions among you,’ &c., I Cor. 11:18. Now mark what follows, ‘this is not the
Lord’s supper,’ ver.
20. Christ will not communicate with a
wrangling jangling company. When
such guests come, he riseth from his own table, as David’s children did from
Absalom’s upon the murder of their brother Amnon, II Sam. 13:29. And for prayer, you know the law
thereof, ‘Lift up holy hands, without wrath and doubting,’ I Tim. 2:8—implying,
that it is impossible to pray in faith and wrath. Duobus modis oratio impeditur, si ad huc homo mala
committit aut si committenti in se ex toto corde non dimittit—our prayer
may be hindered two ways—by lying in any sin we commit against God; or, in
wrath, by not forgiving our brother’s committed against us. Those two in our Lord’s prayer cannot
be divorced—‘forgive us, as we forgive.’
This is that ferrum in vulnere—iron in the wound, as the same
father hath it, which makes our prayers as ineffectual to us, as the plaster is
to the wound in which the bullet still remains.
Now,
the reason why God is so curious in this point, in because himself is so
gracious; and being ‘love,’ can bid none welcome that are not ‘in love.’ The
heathens had such a notion that the gods would not like the sacrifice and
service of any but such as were like themselves. And therefore to the sacrifices of Hercules none were to be
admitted that were dwarfs. To the
sacrifice of Bacchus, a merry god, none that were sad and pensive, as not
suiting their genius. An excellent
truth may be drawn from this their folly.
He that would like and please God must be like to God. Now our God is a God of peace, our
heavenly Father merciful; and therefore to him none can have friendly access
but those that are children of peace, and merciful as their Father is. O! watch then thy heart, that Satan’s
fireballs—which upon every little occasion he will be throwing in at thy window
—take not hold of thy spirit, to kindle any heart-burning in thee against thy
brother. If at any time thou seest
the least smoke, or smellest the least scent of this fire in thy bosom, sleep
not till thou hast quenched it. Be
more careful to lay this fire in thy heart aside, when thou goest to bed, than
the other that is on thy hearth.
How canst thou by prayer commit thyself into God’s hands that night
wherein thou carriest a spark thereof smothered in thy breast? Irasci,
hominis, iram non preficere, Christiani est (Jerome)—as a frail man thou canst not
hinder but such a spark may light on thee, yet if thou wilt prove thyself a
Christian, thou must quench it.
Nay more, if thou wilt show thyself a Christian, and have thy prayer
find God’s ear or heart open to it, thou must do thy utmost to quench it in thy
brother’s heart as well as thy own.
It is not enough that thou carriest peace in thy heart to him, except
thou endeavourest that he may be at peace with thee also. ‘If thou bring thy gift to the altar,
and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee,’ Matt. 5:23.
Hierome
brings in the Christian here expostulating his cause with God, why he will not
hear his prayer: Domine, quare nonvis susicpere munus meum? quid ad me
attinet? non est in meâ potestate, si frater meus habet aliquid contra me—‘What
is it to me, Lord, that my brother is offended with me? I cannot help that; wilt thou not
receive my gift for his fault?’ To
whom he brings God thus answering—Et quid dicis male serve? Intelligo animum tuum? Nihil habes? Amas eum? Quare ergo salvari eum nonvis? Vade, roga eum, ne ille contra te habeat ut salvari possit—‘What
is it, naughty servant, that thou sayest? I understand thy meaning. What is it to thee? Hast thou nothing against him? Dost thou love him? Wherefore then
wouldst not thou save his soul? Go
and beg of him to be at peace with thee, that thy brother’s soul may be
saved.’ I speak the more of this
particular, being sensible of what an hour, or rather age, of temptation we
live in, by reason of the sad differences of judgment among Christians, which
have distilled upon their affections so great a distaste one to another as
exulcerates them into wrath and bitterness; yea, a wonderful cure it will be,
if it can be prevented from ending in an irrecoverable consumption of love
among a great part of this generation —especially considering what malignity is
dropped into these church‑contentions by those national divisions also that
have fallen in with them, and which drew so sad a sword among us, as for many
years could find no other sheath but the bowels of this then miserable
nation. O what grudges,
animosities, and heart‑burnings have these two produced! The sword, blessed be God! is at last
got into its scabbard of peace; but have we not cause to wish it had been
cleaner wiped when put up, and not such an implacable spirit of revenge and
malice to be found remaining among many of us, as, alas! is too common to be
met with everywhere? The storm
without us is over, blessed be God! but is t not too high within some of our
breasts? The flood of national
calamities is assuaged; but now the tide is down and gone, is there not a deal
of this filth—to name no other—uncharitable jealousies, bitterness, wrath, and
revenge, left behind upon our hearts?
Enough to breed another plague and judgment among us if a flood of
national repentance does not wash away what the sea of war and other confusions
have cast up! But, if this were
all the mischief they are like to do us, our case is sad enough; they will hinder
our prayers. For God will not
accept such sacrifices as are kindled with the fire of wrath.
5.
Miscarriage. The
Christian’s prayer may miscarry for want of faith. Prayer is the bow, the promise is the
arrow, and faith the hand which draws the bow, and sends this arrow with the
heart's message to heaven. The bow
without the arrow is of no use, and the arrow without the bow as little worth;
and both without the strength of the hand, to no purpose. Neither the promise
without prayer, nor prayer without the promise, nor both without faith, avails
the Christian anything. So that
what was said of the Israelites, that they ‘could not enter Canaan because of
unbelief;’ the same may be said of many of our prayers, they cannot enter
heaven with acceptation, because they are not put up in faith. Now faith may be considered with a
respect to the person praying, or to the prayer put up.
[What it is to pray
in faith.]
First
Requisite. The person must be
a believer. But this is not enough.
Second
Requisite. There must be an act
of faith exerted in the prayer, as well as the habit of faith dwelling in
the person. ‘What things soever ye
desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them,’ Mark 11:24. If the thing be not to be found in the
promise that we desire, it is a sin to pray for it; if it be, it is a sin not
to believe, when we pray for it, and that no small one, because thereby we both
profane and ordinance and asperse the name of the great God.
Question. But what is it to pray in faith?
Answer
1. Negatively. It is not to believe that the very
thing in specie—or in its proper kind, that we pray for, shall be always
given. Christ prayed in faith and
was heard, Heb.
5. He believed not the thing in kind to be
given neither was it; yet his prayer was answered. Therefore, be sure thou learnest the right method of acting
thy faith in prayer, which must be taken from the nature of the promise thou
puttest in suit. As water receives
its figure—round or square —from the vessel it is poured into; so our faith is
to be shaped by the promise. If
that be absolute—as things necessary to salvation are—then thy faith may expect
the very thing promised; if otherwise, then thou art not to limit thy faith to
the thing itself, but expect money or moneyworth; health, or as good as health;
deliverance, or better than deliverance.
An absolute faith on a conditional promise—without an immediate
revelation, which we must not look for—is fancy, not faith. To commit a sin, not act a grace, this
is to be free on God's purse without a grant; for we put more in the conclusion
of our faith than is in the premises of the promise; and this is as bad
divinity as logic.
Answer
2. Positively. To pray in
faith is to ask of God, in the name of Christ, what he hath promised,
relying on his power and truth for performance, without binding him up to
time, manner, or means.
(1.)
We must ask what God hath promised, or else we choose for ourselves and
not beg; we subject God’s will to ours, and not ours to his; we forge a bond
and then claim it as debt, which is a horrible presumption! He that is his own promiser must be his
own paymaster.
(2.)
To pray in faith is required that we pray in Christ’s name. As there can be no faith but on a promise,
so no promise can be claimed but in his name, because they are all both made to
him and performed for him. They
are made to him, the covenant being struck with him: ‘In hope of eternal life,
which God, that cannot lie, promised before the world began,’ Titus 1:2. And there was none then existing but
Christ to whom the promise could be made. So that, as the child claims his
estate in right of his father that purchased it; so we come to our right in the
promise, as heirs of and co‑heirs with Christ. And as the promise was made to him, so it is performed for
him, because his blood shed was the condition of the obligation upon which God
acknowledged the debt to Christ, and bound himself to perform all the articles
of the covenant to his heirs’ orderly claiming them at his hands in his
name. It is not therefore enough
boldly to urge God with a promise: ‘Pardon, Lord, for thou hast promised it;
grace and glory, for thou hast promised them;’ but we must, if we mean to lay
our plea legally—I mean according to the law of faith—plead for these under the
protection of his name. Thus
Daniel, that holy man, laid the stress of his prayer on Christ: ‘Now therefore,
O our God, hear the prayer of thy servant, and his supplications, and cause thy
face to shine upon thy sanctuary that is desolate, for the Lord’s sake,’ Dan. 9:17.
(3.)
To this praying in faith is required a relying on God, through Christ, for a
gracious answer. Let the
former be done, and the creature fail in this, he prays not in faith, but takes
the name of God and Christ in vain.
This act of relying is the taking hold on God in prayer, Isa. 64. When mariners in a storm cast out their
anchor, and it comes home again without taking hold on the firm ground, so as
to stay the ship and bear it up against the violence of the waves, it gives
them no help. So neither doth a
handless prayer that takes no hold on God. Therefore you shall find that when a Christian speeds well
in prayer, his happy success is attributed, not to naked prayer, but as clothed
and empowered with this act of recumbency upon God. ‘They cried unto the Lord,’ II Chr. 13:14. Now see, ‘The children of Judah
prevailed, because they relied upon the Lord God of their fathers,’ ver. 18. He doth but lie in prayer that doth not
rely on God after praying. What he
seems to give with one hand to God he takes from him with another, which is no
better than a mocking of God. By praying we pretend to expect good from him; by
not relying we blot this out and declare we look for no such matter.
Now
this reliance of the soul hath a twofold way whereby it fastens on God like the
anchor’s double hook.
(a.)
It takes hold on the power of God.
Thus Christ in his agony ‘offered up prayers and supplications with
strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death,’ Heb. 5:7. In prayer we open our case to God,
declare how sinful, weak, shiftless creatures we are, and then we commit our
cause to God. Now as none will put
that to another’s keeping which he thinks safe in his own hands; so neither
will any deliver it to another whose ability he is not first persuaded to
effect that which himself is unable to do. See Eliphaz’s counsel to Job, ‘I would seek unto God, and
unto God would I commit my cause,’ Job 5:8. As if he had said, ‘If I were in your case I will tell you
what course I would take, I would not look this way or that, but speedily haste
me to the throne of grace, and when once I had told God my very heart, I would
trouble myself no more, but commit my cause to him, and discharge my heart of
the burden of all its troublesome thoughts.’ But under what notion would he do all this? The next words will tell us, ‘Unto God
would I commit my cause, which doeth great things and unsearchable; marvellous
things without number.’ First he
would bottom his faith on God as able to do great things; and then, leaving his
request lodged in the arms of such power, he doubted not but he should cast all
care away and enjoy the serenity of his mind whatever his condition was. Indeed, this is the first stone faith
lays in her building. And an error
in the foundation will make the whole house stand weak. Be sure, therefore, thou layest this
bottom stone with thy greatest care.
O how unbecoming is it to have a great God, and a little faith on this
great God!—a strong God, and a weak faith on his almighty power! Unbelief here
ravisheth and offereth violence to the very light of nature, for ‘his eternal
power and Godhead’ are known by ‘the visible things’ of the creation, Rom 1:20. What is not he able to do that could
make so goodly a fabric without materials, tools, or workmen? Crucifige illud verbum potest ne?—obliterate
that word ‘Is he able?’ Away with
the question which so grates the ears of the Almighty: Can he pardon? Can he
purge? What cannot he do that can
do what he will?
(b.)
It takes hold on the faithfulness of God to perform the promise. We are directed, in committing
ourselves to him, to eye his faithfulness: ‘as unto a faithful Creator,’ I Peter 4:19. The saints’ faith hath been remarkable
in staying themselves on this, while yet the mercy they prayed for lay asleep
in its causes: ‘Praise waiteth for thee, O God, in Sion: and unto thee shall
the vow be performed,’ Ps.
65:1. See, he stands with his instrument
strung and tuned, ready to strike up and bring God in with the music of his
praise when he shall come with an answer to his prayer, not the least doubting
but that he shall use it upon that joyful occasion; for he speaks without ifs
and ands—‘Unto thee shall the vow be performed, O thou that hearest
prayer!’ And yet that good day was
not come; for even then he cries out, ‘Iniquities prevail against me!’ So, ‘I
know that the Lord will maintain the cause of the afflicted, and the right of
the poor,’ Ps.
140:12. Why? how comes he so confident? ‘Surely the righteous shall give thanks
unto thy name,’ ver.
13. As if he had said, ‘Thou hast a name
for a gracious and faithful God in thy promise, and this thou wilt never suffer
to be blotted by failing thy word.’
Christian, thou mayest venture all thou art worth on the public faith of
heaven. ‘His words are pure as
silver tried seven times in a furnace.’
He that will not suffer a liar or covenant‑breaker to set foot on his
holy hill, will much less suffer any one thought of falseness or unfaithfulness
to enter into his own most holy heart.
Question. But how may I know when I thus act
faith in prayer?
[Four rules whereby
to know if we
act faith in prayer
or no.]
(1.)
Rule. We may know if we
have acted faith by the serenity and composure of our spirits after prayer. Faith may live in a storm, but it will
not suffer a storm to live in it.
As faith rises, so the blustering wind of discontented troublesome
thoughts go down. In the same
proportion that there is faith in the heart there is peace also. They are joined together, ‘quietness
and confidence,’ Isa.
30:15:
‘In returning and rest shall ye be saved; in quietness and in confidence shall
be your strength.’ Therefore
called ‘peace in believing,’ Rom. 15:13.
Even where it is weakest it will not let the unquietness of the heart
pass without a chiding. ‘Why art
thou disquieted, O my soul! trust still in God,’ Ps. 42:5, 11. What! soul no sooner off thy knees, but
clamorous! Hast not thou made thy
moan to a God able to help thee, and will not that ease thee? Faith disburdens
the soul in prayer of that which oppresses it; whereas the unbelieving soul
still carries about it the cause of its trouble, because it had not strength to
cast forth it sorrows, and roul its cares upon God in the duty. Christian, dost
thou carry away the same burden on thy back from prayer which thou didst bring
to it? surely thou didst want faith to lift it off thy shoulder. Had faith been
there, and that been active and lively, it would have bestowed this elsewhere,
and brought thee away with a light heart: as Hannah, who rose from praying ‘to
eat, and her countenance was no more sad;’ and as Christ, who kneeled down with
as sorrowful a heart as ever any, but comes off with a holy courage, to go and
meet his approaching death, and his bloody enemies now on the way to attack
him. ‘Rise,’ saith he to his
disciples, ‘let us be going, behold he is at hand that doth betray me,’ Matt. 26:46. May it not
put us to the blush to think that we could come less satisfied from God’s
presence than we do sometimes from a sorry man’s? If you were poor, and had a rich friend that bids you send
your children to him, and he will provide for them; would not this ease your
mind of all your cares and distracting thoughts concerning their
maintenance? And doth not God
promise more that this comes to when he bids us ‘be careful for nothing; but in
every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be
made known unto God?’
(2.)
Rule. Dost thou continue
praying even when God continues to deny? An unbelieving heart may have some mettle at hand, but will
be sure to jade in a long journey.
Faith will throw in the net of prayer again and again, as long as God
commands and the promise encourageth.
The greyhound hunts by sight, when he cannot see his game he gives over
running; but the true hound by scent, he hunts over hedge and ditch though he
sees not the hare he pursues all the day long. An unbelieving heart, may be, drawn out, upon some visible
probabilities and sensible hopes of a mercy coming, to pray, but when these are
out of sight his heart fails him; but faith keeps the scent of the promise and
gives not over the chase.
(3.)
Rule. Dost thou stint
God, or canst thou trust him to answer thy prayer in his own way without thy
prescription? When we deal
with a man whose ability or faithfulness we have in doubt, then we labour to
make sure of him by tying him up to our terms. But if we stand assured of their power and truth, we leave
them to themselves. Thus the
patient sends for the physician, desires his help, but leaves him to write his
own bill. The merchant sends over
his goods to his factor, and relies on him to make such returns as his wisdom
tells him will come to the best market.
Thus the believing soul, when he hath opened his heart to God in prayer,
resigns himself to the goodness, wisdom, and faithfulness of God to return an
answer: ‘Remember me, O my God,’ said Nehemiah, ‘concerning this also, and
spare me according to the greatness of thy mercy,’ Neh. 13:22. See here, this good man makes bold to
be God’s remembrancer, but dares not be his counsellor or prescriber. He
remits the shaping of the answer to ‘the greatness of his mercy.’ Hence it follows, that whatever way God
cometh in, the believing soul bids him welcome.
Doth
he pray for health, and miss of that? yet he blesseth God for support under
sickness. Doth he pray for his
children, and they notwithstanding prove a cross? yet he finds an answer
another way, and satisfies himself with it. After many a prayer that David had put up no doubt for his
family, we find him entertaining an answer to those prayers with a composed
spirit, though they came not in at the fore door, buy having mercy in the
letter: ‘Though my house be not so with God; yet he hath made with me an
everlasting covenant,’ &c.; and this, he tells us, is ‘all his desire,’ II Sam. 23:5. Indeed, a believer cannot miss his
desires, ‘He will fulfil the desire of them that fear him,’ Ps. 145:19. Because they disown those desires which
clash with God’s will. Who could
pray more fervently for their children than Job did for his? He was with God
for them every day; but, after all his religious care of them, he meets with
heavy tidings, and hears them to be made a sacrifice by death for whom he had
offered up so many sacrifices to God; yet he doth not foolishly charge God, or
say it was in vain that he prayed: no, that ointment was not lost the savour
whereof was poured into his own soul, from the posture of which we might read a
gracious answer, in the supporting grace that enabled him to love and bless God
over the gravestone of his slain children.
(4.)
Rule. By the soul’s
comporting itself towards the means used for obtaining the mercy prayed for.
(a.) If thou prayedst in faith, it will set
thee to use other means besides prayer. Mark how the apostle joins these together, ‘Not slothful in
business; fervent in spirit; serving the Lord; rejoicing in hope; patient in
tribulation; continuing instant in prayer,’ Rom. 12:11, 12. As faith useth her wings of prayer to fly to heaven; so she
useth her feet of duty and obedience, with which she walks and bestirs herself
on earth.
(b.) Faith will make thee, as use means, so
to be choice of the means thou usest for the obtaining what thou bespeakest
of God in prayer. Faith is a
working grace, but it will be set on work by none but God. Am I in God’s way, saith faith? Is this
the means he hath appointed? If it
be not, away he turns from it, disdaining to work with any of the devil's
tools. God can never answer my
prayer, saith the believer, without the help of my sin. If riches be good for me, I need not be
at the cost to purchase them with a lie or a cheat. If health be a mercy, he can send me it, though I advise not
with the devil’s doctors. If joy
and comfort, there is no need to take down the devil’s music. If times be evil, he can hide me
without running under the skirt of this great man and that by base flattery
and dissimulation. When Ezra had
committed himself and his company to God—now on their march towards
Jerusalem—by a solemn day of fasting and prayer, and had made a holy boast of
his God, what he would do for them that seek him, he thought it unbeseeming his
professed faith, and also dishonourable to his God, whom he had so magnified in
the hearing of the Persian king, to beg armed troops for a convoy to them in
their way, lest his faith should be brought into suspicion for an empty bravado
and groundless confidence: ‘I was ashamed to require of the king a band of
soldiers and horsemen to help us against the enemy in the way: because we had
spoken unto the king, saying, The hand of our God is upon all them for good
that seek him;’ Ezra
8:22.
(c.) If thou actest faith in prayer, thy
faith will not only make thee choice of the means thou usest, but curious
and careful in using the means that God chooseth for thee. Thou wilt be afraid lest it should
stand in God’s light, by stealing thy confidence in him to trust in it. Faith will teach thee to use means as
God’s ordinance, but rely on God to bless it. While faith’s hand is on the plow, her eye is to heaven. Annus
non ager facit fructum—the influences of heaven, not the tillage of the
husband, make it a fruitful year.
Sometimes the physician appoints a powder to be taken in wine or
beer. Now it is not the beer or
wine that does the cure, but the powder, which they are only used to convey and
carry into the stomach. Thus mercy is handed over to us by the blessing of God
in the use of means, yet think not the means do it, but the blessing of God
mingled with it and infused into it.
(d.) If thou actest faith in prayer, as thou
wilt be careful to improve means when God provides them, so thou wilt not
suspend thy faith when God denies them. The believing soul dares not trust to the means when he hath
them, therefore he dares not distrust God when he wants them. Faith knows, though God useth means,
yet he needs none. The sun and
showers are the means he useth for the growth of the grass and herbs; yet he
made these to grow out of the earth before there was sun or rain, Gen. 1:11. Ploughing and sowing are the ordinary
means whereby man is provided with bread; but he fed Israel with bread without
their pains and husbandry. Ships
[are] the means to waft us over the seas; but God carried Israel through the
Red Sea without ship or boat. May
be times are hard, and thou art poor; thy charge is great, and thy comings in
little; with the widow in the prophet, thou art making the last cake of the
little meal that is left. To
reason and sense thou must either beg, steal, or die. Canst thou now, upon praying to thy God, wait upon his
promise which tells thee, ‘verily, thou shalt be fed,’ Ps. 37:3; and on his
providence, which records his care of the sparrows on purpose to assure us he
will much more provide for his children?
Or, at least, dost thou chide thy heart for its distrustful fears after
praying, charging it to hope in God, to whom thou hast made thy moan? Truly, if
thy heart hath not some hold on God after duty to stay it, more than before in
this thy strait; either thou hast no faith, or if thou hast faith, thou didst
not act it in that prayer. True
faith will either expel these dejections of heart, or at least protest against
them.
[Satan would hinder
the success of prayers,
by preventing the
saint’s belief that they were heard.]
Second
Way of Hinderance. Now we come
to the second stratagem that Satan useth to hinder the success of the
Christian’s prayer, which I called a partial hinderance or miscarriage thereof,
when the prayer itself is not lost—which comes to pass only when it finds not
acceptance with God —but when the Christian doth not believe on earth that
his prayer is heard in heaven, though indeed it is. By his questioning thereof, however,
he loseth the revenue of that present peace which otherwise would be paid unto
him from the expectation of its certain return with a joyful answer. As a merchant that gives his ship for
castaway, when indeed it is safe and richly laden (only stays for a fair wind);
he not knowing or believing this, puts himself to as much trouble and sorrow as
if it were in truth as he feared.
Fancy and imagination, even when without ground and reason, are able to
produce real effects and sad consequences in the minds of men. The false news of Joseph’s death caused
as much sorrow to old Jacob, yea more, than if he had seen him laid out, and
had followed him to the grave. The
jailer, from a fear his prisoners were gone, and he accountable for them, had
foredone himself, by falling on his own sword, if Paul had not seasonably
cried out, ‘Do thyself no harm, for we are all here.’
And
truly our unbelieving fears have no less power upon our hearts. They rob the Christian of the joy of
his life—and man is but a sour piece of clay when that is gone. It is not praying, but believing prayer
heard, that will make a glad heart and a cheerful countenance. Hannah often prayed; she was acquainted
with the work many years, yet never had the burden of her spirit taken off till
she had faith she should speed.
Yea, moreover, they [unbelieving fears] weaken the spirit of prayer. He that expects little from prayer,
will not be much in prayer. That
trade is best tended which it is hoped will pay a man best for his pains in
it. ‘Who is there among you,’
saith God, ‘that would shut the doors for nought? neither do ye kindle fire on
mine altar for nought,’ Mal.
1:10. The husbandman throws his seed freely,
because he sows in hope; and his preciousest seed on his fattest soil, because
there he looks to find it again with the greatest increase. This made David like praying work so
well that he will never leave it: ‘I have prayed, and the Lord hath heard, therefore
will I call upon him as long as I live.’
As a merchant, finding his sweet gain come trouling in, converts his
whole estate into stock; so David devotes himself wholly to prayer: ‘For my
love they are my adversaries,’ %-/% *"!$, Ps. 109:4, ‘but I was prayer.’ This was the only weapon I lift up for
my defence against all their darts.
Whereas, unbelief betrays the soul unto many uncomely thoughts of God,
which reflect sadly upon his name, so as to weaken his reputation in the
creature's thoughts, and bring him either to a disuse of this duty, or hopeless
performance of it, and this Satan loves alife. When a merchant thinks his goods miscarry, he grows
presently jealous of his factor, questioning his care, faithfulness, or
ability to despatch his business.
Such whisperings we shall hear, if we listen to our unbelieving hearts
sometimes, when our prayers make not so short an quick a voyage as we
desire. It was a high charge that
Job brought against God—though he lived to see he had little reason to do it;
yea, afterward charged himself for charging God—‘I cry unto thee, and thou dost
not hear me: I stand up, and thou regardest me not,’ Job 30:20. This holy man was now as deep in God’s
books, and as great a favourite with him, as ever; yet so far had Satan wound
into him, as to make him listen to those false reports which he brought unto
him of God—taking the advantage of his present cloudy providence to colour his
calumnies, insomuch that he began to give credit unto this liar. Now if this may become a stone of
offence to Job, how much more mayest thou fear dashing thy foot against it? Let
it be thy care to countermine Satan in this his spiteful plot against God and
thee. Surely it should not be a
little matter that makes thee throw up thy prayers, and give away so rich an
adventure as thou hast swimming in this bottom. Esau hath the brand of a ‘profane person,’ for so cheaply
parting with his inheritance. If
thou beest a believer, thou art an heir of promise, and, amongst promises, this
is not the least —that what thou askest in Christ’s name, believing, thou
shalt receive. Now, it is too like
Esau’s profaneness to part with this piece of thy heritage—which thou canst
not do without impeaching the faithfulness of God that gave thee an estate in
the promise.
We
highly commend Job for his heroic resolution at another time: ‘God forbid that
I should justify you: till I die I will not remove mine integrity from me,’ Job 27:5. How much more shouldst thou say to
Satan, ‘God forbid that I should justify thee, thou wicked fiend, or thy false
charge against my God; I will hold fast his integrity and faithfulness till I
die.’ Surely Daniel, who ventured his life rather than not pray, would have
parted with a thousand lives rather than have given is prayers for lost, and
thereby have blotted the good name of God, whose faithfulness stands bound to
return every prayer of faith with a gracious answer into the saint’s bosom.
But,
the more to fortify you against this design of Satan, let us inquire into a few
of those arguments with which Satan—abusing the Christian’s credulity —leads
him into this temptation, if not absolutely to conclude, yet unbelieving to
dispute and question it in his heart, whether his prayer be heard or no. I shall reduce them to three
heads. First. The first
argument by which he scruples the Christian, and nourishes his unbelieving
fears, is taken from those sinful infirmities that cleave to his person and
prayer. Second. Another argument is taken from the deportment of God to
him in and after prayer. Third.
The last is taken from the common providence of God, that dispenseth the same
things to the wicked without praying, which the saints receive praying.
[Satan’s arguments to make the
believer
doubt whether his
prayer is heard.]
Argument
1. The first argument by which
Satan would make the Christian out of love with himself and his duty, is taken
from those sinful infirmities cleaving to both—his person and prayer alike. Thereby he would quash the saint’s
hope of any favourable reception that his prayer hath found in heaven. What!
thy stammering prayers make music in God’s ear! Will the Lord foul his fingers
with thy besmeared duties? If thou
wert a Samuel or Daniel, and couldst claim thy place among those worthies that
are renowned for the eminent service they have done God in their generation,
then thou mightest hope to have the ear of God to thy suit; but thou, alas! art
a puny stripling, a froward child, in whom there is more sin than grace to be
found, and dost thou think to be heard? Truly, though this argument weighs
little, having no countenance from the tenor of the covenant, whose privileges
are not impropriated to a few favourites, more eminent in grace than their
brethren, but stand open to the whole family—it being ‘a common salvation,’ and
‘like precious faith,’ that all the saints partake of; yet it is the great
bugbear with which many of them are scared.
A
word or two therefore to arm thee against this argument. Only this premised—which I must take
for granted—that these sinful infirmities are lamented and not cockered by
thee—that indeed would turn infirmity into presumption; as also that
thou neglectest not to apply the most effectual means for their cure—though,
as in hereditary diseases, all the physic thou takest will not here perfectly
rid thee of them: this granted, for thy comfort know thy prayers are not so
offensive to God as to thyself.
Thy prayers pass such a refining in Christ’s mediation, that their ill
scent is taken away.
Doth
thy scruple arise from the sinful failings of thy daily conversation and
Christian course? To remove this,
observe how the Spirit of God, when he instanceth in Elias as a person whose
prayers are exceedingly prevalent with God, doth not describe him by the transcendency
of his grace above others, but by his infirmities like unto them: ‘Elias was a
man subject to like passions as we are, and he prayed earnestly that it might
not rain: and it rained not,’ James 5:17.
As if God should say, Were I so curious in my scrutiny, as you fear,
Elias’s prayer would have been stopped, for he was not without his
infirmities. How many failings do
we find in David’s unseemly carriage before Achish, for which he was turned out
of the king’s presence under the notion of a madman? Yet his prayer at that time, when he betrayed so many
unbelieving fears, found favour with God.
‘I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my
fears,’ Ps.
34:4. Read the title, and you shall find it,
‘A Psalm of David, when he changed his behaviour before Abimelech; who drove
him away, and he departed.’
Are
they the sinful infirmities which escape thee in the duty of prayer? Canst thou find more in any prayer thou
puttest up, than were in the disciples’, for one so short?—where they exercised
so little faith that Christ calls it ‘no faith,’ Mark 4:40. ‘Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have no
faith?’ Yea, they pray to Christ,
and chide him in the same breath, ‘Master, carest thou not that we perish?’ Yet Christ could find sincerity hid,
like Saul, in this stuff of their infirmities, and granted their request. It is true he rebuked them, but it is
as true that he rebuked the wind also.
God’s promise for hearing of prayer shall not be made void by the
saint’s weakness in prayer. Yea, for thy further comfort, know, that the less
power these have to shake or disturb thy spirit in expecting a gracious
answer, the more kindly God will take it at thy hand. ‘Abraham,’ it is said, ‘believed, not considering his own
body, or the deadness of Sarah’s womb;’ and for this was highly commended,
because he thereby did signally glorify the power of God, to which he believed
their bodily indisposition should not be any obstacle. Truly thus it will be highly pleasing
to God, if thou canst rely—staggering not at thy spiritual indispositions, and
that deadness of thy heart which rises up as a great objection in thy thoughts
against the success of thy prayer; for by this thou givest Christ both the
honour of his death, by which he purchased this free access for thy weak
prayers to the throne of grace, and also of his intercession, which clarifies
them from all their sinful mixtures.
Argument
2. Satan draws his argument
from God’s deportment to the soul in and after prayer. In this argument there are three things
he commonly insists upon—by them to create trouble to the Christian’s
thoughts. (1.) His silence,
which he would have the Christian interpret to be God’s slighting or disregarding
of him and his prayer. (2.) His frowns,
from which he would have him conclude neither he nor his duty are
accepted. (3.) His not giving
the mercy in kind; and this he tells the Christian amounts to a denial.
[What in God’s
deportment to a Christian
after prayer Satan
falsifies.]
(1.)
His silence after prayer.
As wicked men sometimes sin, and God keeps silence, which makes them
bold to think God approves of them and their way; so, sometimes a gracious soul
prays, and God holds his peace here also; and the poor soul begins to fear that
neither his person nor his duty are approved of God. Now Satan, knowing what thoughts are like to rise in the
Christian’s own heart, falls in and joins issue with the Christian’s bosom
enemy, labouring to confirm him in these his unbelieving fears.
To
disentangle and help thee out of this brier, take these directions:—
(a.) Learn to distinguish betwixt God’s
hearing and his answering the saint’s prayer. Every faithful prayer is heard, and makes an acceptable
report in God’s ear as soon as it is shot; but God doth not always speedily
answer it. The father, at the
reading of his son’s letter—which comes haply on some begging errand—likes the
motion; his heart closeth with it, and a grant is there passed; but he takes
his own time to send his despatch, and let his son know this. Princes have their books of
remembrance, wherein they write the names of their favourites whom they intend
to prefer, haply some years before their gracious purpose opens itself to them. Mordecai’s name stood in Ahasuerus’
book some while before his honour was conferred. Thus God records the names of his saints and their
prayers. ‘The Lord hearkened, and
heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before him for them that
feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name,’ Mal. 3:16. But they hear not of God in his
providential answer, haply, a long time after. Abraham prays for a child, and is heard, but how many years
interpose before he hath him in his arms?
Truly so many that he goes into Hagar—partly by his wife’s counsel and
his own weakness—to obtain that with a by‑blow for which God himself had
undertaken.
Take
heed, Christian, thou beest not led into this temptation, to question whether
God hears thee, because thou hearest not from him presently. Be patient, and thou shalt find, the
longer a mercy goes before its delivery, the more perfect it will come forth
at last. God gave a speedy answer
to Abraham for his son Ishmael, ‘O that Ishmael might live!’ ‘I have heard thee,’ saith God
concerning Ishmael, Gen.
17:20.
Indeed he flourished and spread into a great nation before Isaac's stem almost
budded. What a small number was
the family of Jacob at their going down into Egypt! but when the date of God’s
bond was near expiring, and the time of the promise drew nigh, then God paid
interest for his stay. None gain
more at the throne of grace than those who trade for time, and can forbear the
payment of a mercy longest.
(b.) Consider, when thou findest the deepest
silence in God’s providence concerning the thing prayed for, then thou hast
a loud answer in the promise.
Say not therefore, ‘Who shall ascend to heaven, to bring thee
intelligence whether thy prayer hath got safe thither, and had favourable
audience in God’s ear?’ God
himself hath saved thee this labour: the promise will satisfy thee, which
assures thee that if it be duly qualified it cannot find the heart of God shut
against it. ‘The effectual fervent
prayer of a righteous man availeth much,’ James 5:16. So assured have the saints been of this, that they, before
any inkling from providence hath been heard—to bring them the news of a mercy
coming—have taken up joy upon the credit of the naked promise, and feasted
themselves with the hopes of what they expected, but had not yet received at
the cost and charge of God’s faithfulness, with which the promise is sealed,
‘In God I will praise his word,’ Ps. 56:4. Mark the phrase.
He had not as yet the desired mercy, only a word of promise that it
should come. Now, considering the
power and truth of God the promiser, he is as merry as if he were put in
possession of it, and pays his praises before God performs the promise.
(2.)
The second thing which Satan gathers from God's deportment towards the
Christian, thereby to bring the hearing of his prayer into question in his
anxious thoughts, is, his frowns against the Christian. It cannot be
denied but sometimes a dear saint of God may go away from duty with an aching
heart, by reason of the sad impressions of an angry God left upon his
spirit. And when thus it fares
with the Christian, Satan’s time is come, he thinks, to lead him into this
temptation, by persuading him he may read what entertainment his prayer had at
God’s hands in the language of his countenance and his carriage towards him. If God, saith he, had heard thy prayer,
would he handle thee thus? No
sure; he would rather have taken thee up into his arms, and kissed thee with
the kisses of his mouth, than thus trample thee under is feet. Thou shouldst have had darts of love
shot from his pitiful eye, to imitate the purposes of his grace, and not arrows
headed with his wrath, to stick in thy soul, and thus drink up thy very
spirits. Can these be the wounds
of a friend?—this the deportment that means thee well? This was the temptation which ruffled
Job’s thoughts, and embittered his spirit, Job 9:17. He could not believe God answered his prayer, ‘because he
broke with his tempest.’ As if
God’s mercy came always in the still voice, and never in the whirlwind! Now in this case take this double word
of counsel.
Counsel
(a). Inquire whether this
tempest comes to find any Jonah in thy ship; whether it takes thee
sinning, or soaking in any past sin unrepented; or whether thy conscience,
diligently listened to, doth witness that thou art sincere in thy course,
though compassed with many failings.
If it overtakes thee in a runaway voyage, with Jonah, or rambling course
with the prodigal from thy father’s house, then indeed thou hast reason to
question, yea it is beyond all question, that an acceptable prayer in this
posture cannot drop from thy lips.
What! run from God, and then send to him thy prayers! This is to desire mercy to spend upon
thy lust. But if, upon thy
faithful search, thou findest this storm overtakes thee in the way of duty and
exercise of thy sincerity, like the tempest that met the disciples at sea—when
at Christ’s command they launched forth—then be not discouraged. For it is ordinary with God to put on
the disguise of an angry countenance, and to use rough language, when his
heart is resolved upon ways of mercy, and mediates love to his people. Jacob, you know, wrestled hard and long
before victory inclined to his side.
And the woman of Canaan was kicked away like a dog with harsh language,
who at last was owned of Christ for a dear child, and sent away to her heart’s
content. Sincerity needs fear no
ill from God. This very
consideration kept Job’s head as another time above water, Job 16:12. There we find God taking him by the
neck, shaking him as it were to pieces, and setting him up for his mark. But, ver. 17, this upheld his troubled spirit—that
all this befell him walking in obedience—‘Not for any injustice in mine hands:
also my prayer is pure.’ Wherefore
he rears up his confidence, ‘Also now, behold, my witness is in heaven, and my
record is on high. My friends
scorn me: but mine eye poureth out tears unto God,’ ver. 19, 20. The holy man was not, for all this,
scared from the throne of grace, but still looked on God, though with tears in
his eyes, expecting good news at last after so much bed. And we have warrant to do the
same. ‘If our heart condemn us
not, then have we confidence toward God,’ I John 3:21. And this brings me to the second word of counsel I have to
give thee.
Counsel
(b). Inquire whether under
these frowns from God there be yet a spirit of prayer working in thee. Haply thou canst not deny but that thy
heart is rather stirred up from these to lament after the Lord with more
restless sighs and groans, to pray with more feeling and fervency, than driven
away from duty. The spirit of
prayer upheld in thee may assure of these two things:—
[1.] That the cloud of anger which seems to
sit on God’s brow is not in his heart. It is but a thin veil, through which thy faith might see the
working of his bowels towards thee.
The presence of the Spirit of God at work thus in a soul cannot stand
with his real anger. If his wrath
were up, this in thee would be down.
Thou shouldst have him soon calling back this his ambassador of peace, at
least suspending and withdrawing his assistance. When that sad breach was made between God and David in the
matter of Uriah, David’s heart was presently out of tune; his ‘right hand had
forgot its cunning,’ and the spirit of prayer had received a sad damp in his
heart. Where is the psalm to be
found that was penned by David in that interregnum, as I may so say, of his
grace? I do not say he did never
pray all the time he lay soaking in that sin; but those prayers were not fit to
be joined with the holy breathings of that spirit which acted him before his
fall and after his recovery. And
therefore, good man, when by repentance he came to himself, like one recovering
out of a dangerous sickness —which had for a time taken away his senses—he begins
to feel himself weak, and how much the Spirit of grace was by his sin enfeebled
in him, which makes him so vehemently beg that God would ‘renew a right spirit
in him,’ and ‘not take his Holy Spirit from him,’ Ps. 51:10, 11. The Spirit is so choice and peculiar a
mercy, that if thou canst find lively actings of his grace in thee—and where
are they more sensibly felt than in prayer, helping the soul to sighs and
groans which cannot be uttered?—thou canst not in reason think God is not
friends with thee, though it were at present as dark as midnight with thy soul.
[2.] It may assure thee that his ear is
open to thy cry when his face is hid from thine eye. For, consider but who this Spirit is
that thus helps thee in prayer, and furnisheth thee with all thy spiritual
ammunition with which thou so pliest and batterest the throne of grace. Is he not one that knows the mind of
God? and that would not have a hand in that petition which should not be
welcome to heaven? Having therefore this assistance from the Spirit, doubt not
thy acceptance with the Father. In
a word, the Spirit that helps thee to thy groans and sighs in prayer is no
other than that God thou prayest to; and will God deny himself? This I conceive part, if not the
principal part, of the scripture’s meaning, ‘I said not unto the seed of Jacob,
Seek ye me in vain,’ Isa.
45:19. That is, whenever I stir up a soul to
pray, and empower him with my Spirit to perform it feelingly, fervently, and
after a holy manner, it is always to purpose. God never said thus to any, ‘Seek ye me in vain.’
(3.)
The third thing from which Satan takes his advantage to breed scruples in the
Christian’s mind concerning the acceptance of his prayer, is the denial of
mercy in kind which is prayed for.
We are prone enough to have such thoughts ourselves, and Satan will not
be wanting to feed any bad humour that is stirring in us. Or, if our hearts seem pacified with
this dealing of God, he hath his ways and wiles to conjure up this evil spirit
of discontent and unbelief. On this errand he sent Job’s wife, to make him
think and speak evil of God: ‘Dost thou still retain thy integrity?’ As if she had said, ‘What! art thou at
thy old work?—still praying and praising God? Dost thou not see how much he regards thee, or thy serving of
him? What hast thou got by all thy
devotion? Is not thy estate
gone?—thy children slain and buried in one grave, and thyself left a poor
loathsome cripple? —thy life serving for nothing but to make thee feel thy
present misery and feed on thy past crosses?’
Indeed,
it requires a good insight into the nature of the promises, and the divers ways
God takes to fulfil them, to enable us to spell an answer out of a denial of
the thing we pray for. Yet, such a
‘good understanding have all they that do his commandments,’ Ps. 111:10. They can clear God and justify his
faithfulness in all his dealings, though, when he comes to answer their
prayers, he chooseth not to enter in at that door which they set open in their
own thoughts and hopes for him, nor treads in the very steps of their express
desires. The whole psalm contains
a testimony given to the faithfulness of God in his providential works, at
which, though a carnal cursory eye—from the mysteries hid therein—is
scandalized and takes offence, yet the gracious soul, by his more curious
observance of and inquiry into them, finds a sweet harmony between them and the
promise, and therefore concludes, ‘The fear of the Lord is the beginning of
wisdom: a good understanding have all they that do his commandments: his
praise endureth for ever.’ They,
having a key to God’s character, can read the hand of his providence, and so
are able to praise him —knowing him faithful—when others are ready to curse
him.
But,
to help thee out or keep thee from falling into this temptation, thou art in
the first place to consider what mercy it is that God denies thee. Is it not of that sort of blessings
which are not necessary unto thy happiness as a saint? Such all temporal mercies are. The kingdom of God consists not in meat
and drink. Thou wilt find an
absolute denial for no other; he hath bid us take no denial for his love and
favour, grace and glory: ‘Seek the Lord, and his strength: seek his face
evermore,’ Ps.
105:4—that
is, be not put off for these, but live and die at God’s door till he brings
this alms to thee. Well, we will
take this for granted it is a temporal mercy thou art denied. Now, when thou
art tempted to question the love of God, or acceptance of thy prayer, let me
desire thee to weigh this threefold
consideration.
Consideration
(a). Consider how ill God
may take this at thy hand; and that in a double respect. [1.] That thou dost suspect his love
on so slight and trivial a matter as the temporal enjoyments of this life are,
which he thinks are not worth enough to be put into the promise any otherwise
than they are subservient to the spiritual and eternal blessings of the covenant:
‘Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things
shall be added unto you,’ Matt.
6:33—that
is, as you need them. He casts
them into the other more grand blessings, as a tradesman would do thread or
paper, or a skein of silk, into a parcel of rich commodities that a customer
buys of him. Suppose a child
should ask his father for money to buy some toy or trifle that pleaseth his
green head, but the father denies him the thing. If, now, the child should go and make proclamation in the
open street, to the disgrace of his father, that his father did neither love
nor regard him—though he wants neither food nor raiment—would this be well
taken at the child’s hand? This
thou dost, Christian, in this case, though thou thinkest not so much; and hath
not thy heavenly Father more reason to question thy love for taking away his
good name, than thou to suspect his for his denial? But again, [2.] He may take it ill that thou hast aspersed
his wisdom. Is there no way
but this for the wise God to show his love and answer thy prayer? Cannot he
deny health and give patience?—take away thy estate and turn it into
contentation?—teaching thee to be abased, and to bless God thou art made
low. He that will make thee so
happy in heaven, where few of this world’s enjoyments shall be seen, cannot he
make thy life comfortable on earth without some of them?
Consideration
(b). Consider how thou
prayedst when thou didst meet with this denial. Didst thou pray peremptorily and absolutely, or
conditionally, with submission to the will of God? If peremptorily, thou wert beside the rule, and art the
cause why thy prayer came back without its errand. God will not hear, or bear, commanding prayers. He that must have a temporal mercy, if
he gets it, he may have a spiritual curse, but is sure to have a temporal
cross. So Delilah proved to Samson, who would not take his parents’ counsel,
but must have her whatever comes of it: ‘Get her for me; for she pleaseth me
well,’ Judges
14:3. But he paid dearly for his choice. May be such an employment pleaseth thee
well. Thy carnal heart is in love
with it; and that sets the a praying inordinately for it. Alas! poor creature, if thou hadst it,
what wouldst thou do with it? Thou
wouldst fondly lay thy head in its lap and let it rock thy grace asleep, and
then betray thee into the hand of some sin and judgment! But, if thou sayest that thou prayedst
with a submissive spirit, on condition it liked God as well as thyself; if so,
why then dost thou now recant thy prayer, seeing God hath declared his will
that it is not good for thee to have thy desire? Wilt thou not be determined by him to whom thou didst refer
thyself? Hast thou not reason to think that God takes the best way for
thee? There is never a prayer put
up but God doth, as it were, weigh and ponder it, and then his love sets his
wisdom on work to make such a return as may be most for his own glory and his
child’s good. Now, it being the product of such infinite wisdom and love, thou
oughtest to acquiesce in it, yea to praise God for it. Thus did David in a great strait, ‘O my
God, I cry in the daytime, and thou hearest not,’ Ps. 22:2. Well, what hears God from him now he
hears nothing from God (as to the deliverance prayed for)? No murmuring nor
cavilling at God’s proceedings —nay, he hears the quite contrary; for he
justifies and praises God, ‘But thou art holy, O thou that inhabitest the
praises of Israel,’ ver.
3.
Consideration
(c). Observe whether thou
canst not gather something from the manner of God’s denying the thing
prayed for, which may sweeten it to thee. Haply thou shalt find he denies thee, but it is with a
smiling countenance, and ushers it in with some expression of grace and favour
that may assure thee his denial proceeds not from displeasure. As you would do with a dear friend,
who, may be, comes to borrow a sum of money of you—lend it you dare not,
because you see plainly it is not for his good. But, in giving him the denial,
lest he should misinterpret it, as proceeding from want of love and respect,
you therefore preface it in with some kind of language of you hearty affection
to him, as that you love him, and therefore deny him, and shall be ready to do
for him more than that comes too.
Thus God sometimes wraps up his denials in such sweet sugared intimations
of his love as prevent all jealousies from arising in the hearts of his
people. When David was denied to
build a temple for God, as was in his heart to do, God gave him a large
testimony of his affection, how highly he accepted his good-will therein. Though he should not build a temple for
him, yet his desire was so kindly taken that God would build a house for him
that should last forever.
Thus,
sometimes a faithful minister prays earnestly that God would bless his labours
to the converting of his people, and is denied; yet intimations of God’s love
to his person are dropped, with a promise that, however, ‘his reward is with
the Lord.’ So that his prayer,
though denied as to them, is returned with peace into his own bosom. Another prays passionately, ‘O that I
might see Jerusalem a quiet habitation,
and that truth and peace might flourish in his days!’ This, may be, is not granted, because
his desire antedates the period which God hath fixed in his purpose for the
fulfilling of his promise to his church: but he withal manifests his love to
him, and expresseth how highly he resents[4] his love to
the church. Thus God did by
Daniel, to whom an angel was sent to let him know what kind entertainment his
prayer had, and that he was a man ‘greatly beloved of God,’ Dan. 9:21. So in temporal mercies. Haply thou art pleading with God for
deliverance out of this trouble and that affliction, and it is denied thee, but
a message [is] with the denial that recompenseth it double. May be some sweet illapses of his love
he drops into thy bosom, or assurance of seasonable succours that shall be sent
in to enable thee to charge through them with faith and victory. So God dealt by Paul, ‘My grace is
sufficient for thee.’ I hope now
thou wilt not say thy prayer is lost.
When Saul sought his father’s asses, was he not shrewdly hurt to find a
kingdom instead of them? The holy
women that went to the sepulchre to anoint the body of Jesus with their spices,
did not lose their labour though they found him risen. Were they, thinkest thou, sorry for
that? What are all the enjoyments
of the world to the spiritual mercies and comfort of the promises which thou
findest in thy attendance on God?
Not so much as the dead body of our risen Saviour. Thou findest not some dead
creature-comfort, but thou meetest with embraces from a living God.
Argument
3. The third and last thing
that Satan abuseth the Christian with, to make him doubtful of the acceptance
of his prayer, and also to question, when a mercy is given in after prayer,
whether it comes as a gracious answer to it or no, is taken from the common
providence of God, that dispenseth the same things to the wicked without
praying which the saints receive praying. Now, with Satan, how knowest thou that thy mercies come to
thee as an answer to thy prayer, and not at the door of common providence with
them? For the extricating
thee out of this snare thou must know, that we are not to expect the
extraordinary ways to determine this, but must satisfy ourselves with what
light the word of God affords, which is able to resolve, not only this, but all
our cases of conscience. It is true that God doth sometimes cast in some such
circumstances as bring an evidence with them that the mercy flies to us on the
wings of prayer. As when, upon
Abraham’s servant’s praying at the well for God’s gracious conduct and help to
despatch his master’s business prosperously, that Rebecca should presently come
forth, and, by her kind carriage and invitation, so fitly answer the mould of
his prayer, even as the lock doth the key made for it. Here heaven declared to his very sense,
that his prayer found the right way to heaven. When, upon prayer, the mercy is
thus cast in strangely and suddenly without the concurrence of second
causes—yea, when they all lie under a visible sentence of death, and the thing
is put beyond the activity of their sphere to work—here there is no rival to
stand in competition with prayer.
Thus, when the apostles healed the sick upon a short prayer darted up to
heaven—not so much as a doctor’s advice asked in the cure. When Peter knocked at the door where
the church was praying for him, what but prayer bound his keeper’s senses so
fast in the chains of sleep, and made those with which Peter was bound to fall off
without any kind hand to help, but heaven’s? What made the iron gate so officious to open to him that had
no key in his hand to unlock it?
Surely we must confess, prayer opened heaven door, and heaven, at the
church’s prayer, opened the prison door.
Yet
it is as true, that more commonly mercies that are won by prayer come
not with this pomp and observation.
But, as converting grace oft steals into the hearts of some with less
terror and noise of humiliation than it doth into others; so, truly, do answers
in prayer—and that more commonly—come with more silence, and in the ordinary
road by the concurring help of second causes. As, the Christian praying for the temporal provisions of
this life, God answers his prayer by blessing his diligence in his calling. The sick Christian praying, hath his
food and physic thoroughly sanctified, and so recovers. Now, though God hath left himself at
liberty, either to send his mercies by secondary hands, or, when he pleaseth,
to be the messenger himself, and bring them in an extraordinary way with his
immediate hand; yet hath he not left us at liberty to leave the ordinary
road, and neglect the means, under a pretence of expecting extraordinary ways
to have our desires. Now as to
this ordinary way of giving in mercies in answer to prayer, these two things
are to be inquired for:—
(1.)
Inquire whether thou who didst put up the prayer beest in a covenant state. When God gives a mercy in answer to
prayer, he is said to ‘remember his covenant,’ Ps. 105:34 compared with ver. 8, and to be
‘mindful of his covenant,’ Ps. 111:5. His eye is first on the person, taking
notice who he is, whether his child or no, and then his ear is open to his cry:
‘The eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous, and his ears are open unto their
cry,’ Ps.
34:15. ‘Who art thou, my son?’ said Isaac to
Jacob, before he gave him the blessing.
If God sees thou art not his child—and his eyes are not dim, like old
Isaac’s, that he can be deceived—thy prayer is not accepted. Indeed, neither canst thou, in that
state, pray in a gospel sense, nor God graciously bid thy prayer welcome; for
the spirit of prayer is a covenant grace, and interest in the mediation of
Christ a covenant privilege, without both which no prayer is accepted. God
hears not any that have not his Spirit to pray in them, and his Son to pray for
them; and none have these but such as are in a covenant state.
(2.)
Inquire what thy frame of heart was in the duty of prayer, and also after
its performance. Thy not being
in a covenant state will prove thy prayer was not heard, and consequently that
the mercy received came not as a gracious answer to it; but thy being in a
covenant state is an insufficient ground for thee to conclude that this
particular prayer that now thou puttest up is accepted, because there may
intervene something to hinder the present benefit of this privilege which is
annexed to thy covenant state.
For, though thy state be good, yet thy present frame and behaviour may
be naught. Thou mayest, though a
child of God, be under fresh guilt and defilement as yet unrepented of. Now in this case God can shut his door
upon his own child. Thou hast
indeed jus in re, but not aptitudinem ad rem—as a saint, thou
hast a right to all the promises of the covenant, and to this, of having God’s
ear open to thy prayers among the rest; but as thou art a saint under guilt, or
the defilement of any sin that thou hast not yet repented of, thou art not fit
to enjoy what thou hast a right to as a saint. God doth not disinherit thee indeed, but he sequesters the
promise from thee, and the rents of it shall not be paid to thee, till thou
renewest thy repentance and faith on the Lord Jesus for the pardon of it. Thy God will choose a fitter time than
this is to signify his love to thee.
The leper under the law was to stand off while purified; and so will thy
God turn his back of thy prayer, till thou beest cleansed of thy sin.
Again,
suppose thou art a saint, and hast not thus defiled thyself with any gross sin,
yet thy graces might not be exercised in the duty of prayer; haply thou didst
pray, but no faith or fervency were exerted in it. There may be grace in the heart, but none in the duty; and
such a prayer shall not speed. The promise is to the saint acting his faith and
fervency in prayer. ‘The effectual
fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much,’ James 5:16. ‘Ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye
shall search for me with all your heart,’ Jer. 29:13.
Lastly,
Though thou wert stirred up in prayer, yet may be thy heart was not raised up to
rely on God after prayer for the answer.
Then we pray in faith when we so take hold of God by faith in prayer, as
to wait and stay ourselves on God for a return of mercy from him. Now by putting all these together, thou
mayest come to the resolution of the question in hand. If thou beest in a covenant state, and
liest not in any known sin unrepented of—if thou prayest fervently, and actest
faith on God, so as to stay thy soul upon God for an answer, though accompanied
with many weaknesses and staggerings—truly thou mayest, without presumption,
conclude the mercy which finds thee in this orderly manner waiting upon God
comes in a gracious answer to thy prayer.
We do not fear to break open a letter when we find our name in the
superscription directing it to us.
Search the promises, and thou shalt find them directed by name to thee
who prayest thus.
[1]Supersedeas, — a legal
document issued to halt or delay the action of some process of law. Webster’s.
[2]Searce, v. t. sers. To shift; to bolt; to separate the fine
part of meal from the coarse. [Little used.]
Searce, n. sers. A sieve; a bolter. [Little used.]
— From Webster’s
1828 Dictionary.
[3]Note: The actual
quotation in the text appears to be a blending of John 12:28, and Matt. 26:39,
42. — SDB
[4]Note: — Could it be that this is a typo here and that what was
meant was the word respects? or, represents? or, presents? While that would not clear up the
entire tenor of this paragraph, which seems fraught with problems, it would help
to alleviate them to a certain extent. — SDB