Chapter V

Great Prayers

Men talk and write of "great prayers" as though such petitions could be weighed or measured. They appear to think that sacred feelings can find a standard of comparison. But even the rightfully esteemed Lord's Prayer presents no universal standard by which to measure our varying appeals. One old saint writes that he often gets out of patience when the Lord's Prayer is intoned or recited, as none of its paragraphs fitly or adequately expresses his "soul's sincere desire."

Prayer is necessarily as varying in its moods and objects as a kaleidoscope. Jesus said, "after this manner pray ye." And we must pray "after this manner." But person, time, place, hearers, sharers, emotions, ideas, desires, and needs all enter into the conditions of earnest prayer. To call on God in your own way, with your own motives and your own emotions and your own language, or without words, will be a clear fulfillment of the command to pray. The Lord understands every language and knows all that the heart would express if it could find an adequate form of speech.

The books, except the Bible, most frequently quoted in these letters include volumes by St. Augustine, Luther, Wesley, Whitfield, Spurgeon, Moody, Fosdick, Nicoll, Campbell, Whittle, and Finney. In the quotations the idea is ever present that there are _great_ prayers. That place is given most frequently to the printed petitions of Spurgeon. But it is misleading to attempt to place a valuation on any of them. The most effective prayer recorded was the appeal of the Publican as he smote his breast; and Christ's long prayer at the Last Supper was the most comprehensive. But in the following circumstances, having trustworthy witnesses, no two of the marvelously effective petitions were alike--_viz._, the English boy's prayer for his blind sister's restoration to sight; Muller's prayer for a food supply for his orphanage; Doctor Cullis's appeal to God for his Consumptive Home; Doctor Kincaid's petition for protection for the converts of Ava; the Brooklyn child's prayer for her shipwrecked father; the groans of John Hall's praying, but starving, mother; the prayer of President Garfield's mother at the washtub when her boy was lost in the forest; the silent wish of Carey, the pioneer missionary; John Daniel Loest's prayer for money to pay his mortgage the next day; Spurgeon's prayer for his pastors' college in dire need; Moody's prayer for the establishment of a Bible school in Northfield; Luther's prayer for Melancthon; Halderman's prayer, in the Fulton Street daily prayer meeting, for the lost ship _Leviathan_; the petition of the mother of Doctor Talmage, asking that her son be made to decide at that moment to come home; Miss Lyon's prayer in the field for a seminary for women; and the prayer of the Dock child of Stockton who claimed that God had told him "in his heart" that his sister would immediately recover. To these may be added an almost innumerable number of cases where the prayers brought direct results, although there was no attempt to use any special form of words.

This principle or truth is probably accepted by all thinking worshipers, including most extreme ritualists. As, however, true prayer requires a devotional state of mind there can be no denial of the statement that the forms, ceremonials, scenic effects, and processions of the different creeds and races have a most potent effect on the devotional natures of their supporters. Whatever awakens a spirit of devotion is more or less useful; but when a strong desire for communion with God has been aroused by music, exhortation, processions, or scenery the most effective method appears to be to then leave each soul alone with God in silent prayer. "Resting in Christ" has a meaning to the devout which no other can understand. Love only can understand love. To be "alone with the loved one" is ever a holy and soul-brightening experience. But to be "alone with God" is, by far, the most holy of all emotions. The testimony of nearly all those at the Baptist Temple who report an answer to prayer, mention the fact that their prayers seemed to be the most productive of results when offered in the silent moments at the close of some inspiring service.

It is clearly impossible for one finite mind to shape a petition which will include and express all the desires of the multitude. Neither can an uninspired writer in one age fully appreciate and comprehend the conditions and needs of another age. Hence, while the petitions of friends, priests, or pastors have a strong influence with the Creator, the one vital necessity in making acceptable appeals to God is that each petitioner should ask for himself. No character can be changed from the outside. No wicked heart can be made pure without its own consent, and the Lord seems to have limited himself so that he never crosses the threshold of the soul unless he is sincerely invited by that individual householder. God does not convert any soul by force. Therefore, all who would be blessed by him must voluntarily and individually go to him. There can be no substitute in that case. Even Christ, a mediator, may take on himself our punishment, but he cannot do our praying for us. He makes intercession for us, but that is of no use without our co-operation.