Man’s true nature is to be sought in that image of
God in which he was first created. In his earthly part he is akin to the
beast that perish; but he is distinguished from these in that God "breathed
into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living soul."
Solomon draws the line between the two when he speaks of "the
spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth
downward to the earth." Upon this soul is stamped the seal
of the divine attributes. In his intelligence man dimly reflects the
divine wisdom in his affections, the divine benevolence; in his
conscience, the divine rectitude; in his will, the divine power. Such a
being can find his true sphere only in God. All these endowments point to
that august source from which they are derived, as the only goal to which
they can aspire; and the comprehensive act in which they all embark is the
homage of an intelligent and eternal worship. To this end was man invested
with "dominion over the works of God’s hands," that, as the
priest of nature, he might walk through the aisles of her vast cathedral,
and lead the whole choir of earth in chants of thanksgiving and joy. It is
his office to gather the inarticulate praises of this dumb world into his
censor, investing them with his own intelligence and thought, and lighting
them at the fire of his own devotion; and then, as the voice of nature, to
pour the flood of praise forever upon him who has created all for his own
glory.
As before intimated, man’s mental and moral structure adapts him to
this majestic function. His reason, which can hold discourse of God; his
heart, which glows with the ardor of a seraph; and the easy connection
between the two, by which thought glides into feeling, and feeling into
frames of devotion, all fit him to be a worshipper in the temple of
Jehovah. His memory and hope, which bind together the past and the future
like two vast continents; his instinct of ambition and longing for
immortality, which turn wearily away from sensual rewards to the prizes of
eternity; the conscience, which sits upon its hidden throne, the arbiter
of right; the depths of reverence and awe within him resounding with the
echoes of the spiritual and the divine: all these make him a worshipper,
though it should be only in the silence and the solitude of his own
thought; whilst, again, his amazing constructive power in building up
systems of truth, and his kingly relations to the world which has been
placed under his dominion, designate him as the organ of that homage which
is due to the Creator’s supremacy.
But how shall man worship the infinite Jehovah without assuming the
posture of prayer? Even the seraphim veil their faces as they unite in the
triune chorus, "Holy, Holy, Holy, is the
Lord God of Hosts." Shall not man draw the mantle over his
head whist with Abraham he exclaims, "behold,
now, I have taken upon me to speak with the Lord, which am but dust and
ashes"? This prostration of the soul in humility before
God is essentially prayer. It is an acknowledgement, in the very frame of
the spirit, that the great and dreadful God stands in amazing contrast
with the feebleness of the creature; who, therefore, abases himself before
the majesty which is yet his joy to approach. This, then, is a further
step in the analysis of prayer; which is not only the expression of a
creature’s dependence upon God, but also the soul’s intelligent homage
rendered to his infinite perfections.
But if man has fallen from his original state of innocence, and is now
under condemnation of law, then prayer takes on a new feature as the
confession of sin, and becomes the language of guilt. However we may
recoil from the acknowledgement, it is universal under the pressure of an
accusing conscience. All the religions of earth, save Christianity alone,
are religions of fear. There is scarcely a mountain-top upon which the
blood of victims has not smoked upon altars dedicated to some avenging
deity. The troubled confession breaks forth in a thousand forms in daily
life. In sudden peril there is a mysterious unveiling of sins, which,
before that dismal hour, conscience had not seemed to note. At death, when
eternity throws its shadow upon the soul, the spectres of the past rise as
the witnesses of our guilt, and crowd with us across the bourne. Nay, long
before this last experience, there are pauses in every man’s life, when
a great hush is thrown upon the soul as the law smites with the edge of
its sword. Under the crushing weight of his guilt, the penitent exclaims
with the publican in the court of the temple, "God,
be merciful to me, a sinner!" This, again, is prayer; not,
as before, the simple recognition of dependence upon sovereign power, nor
as the homage paid to infinite perfection; it has now gone into depths far
gloomier than mere sense of insufficiency and weakness. It has become the
wail of a soul burdened with its guilt, and casting itself upon the mercy
of God for pardon. This is prayer; not simply asking for blessing which
shall fill the measure of its need, but bewailing the sin which is
strangling the soul with its serpent coil, and seeking deliverance from
its hideous embrace.
Here, then, is prayer under three aspects. It is the appeal of
creaturely dependence; it is the wail of a sinner’s guilt; it is the
articulate worship of an intelligent soul. Under the first, God is
regarded in his natural relation as the creator and preserver of all his
creatures. Under the second, he is contemplated in his gracious relation
as the redeemer and savior of sinners. Under the third, he is adored in
his consummate holiness and glory.
Think as Jesus Taught
by Oswald Chambers
"Pray without ceasing."
1 Thessalonians 5:17
We think rightly or wrongly about prayer according to the
conception we have in our minds of prayer. If we think of prayer as the
breath in our lungs and the blood from our hearts, we think rightly. The
blood flows ceaselessly, and breathing continues ceaselessly; we are not
conscious of it, but it is always going on. We are not always conscious of
Jesus keeping us in perfect joint with God, but if we are obeying Him, He
always is. Prayer is not an exercise, it is the life. Beware of anything
that stops ejaculatory prayer. "Pray without
ceasing," keep the childlike habit of ejaculatory prayer in your
heart to God all the time.
Jesus never mentioned unanswered prayer; He had the
boundless certainty that prayer is always answered. Have we by the Spirit
the unspeakable certainty that Jesus had about prayer, or do we think of the
times when God does not seem to have answered prayer? "Every
one that asketh receiveth." We say—"But, . . . but . . ." God
answers prayer in the best way, not sometimes, but every time, although the
immediate manifestation of the answer in the domain in which we want it may
not always follow. Do we expect God to answer prayer?
The danger with us is that we want to water down the things that Jesus
says and make them mean something in accordance with common sense; if it
were only common sense, it was not worth while for Him to say it. The things
Jesus says about prayer are supernatural revelations.
Undisturbed Relationship
by Oswald Chambers
"At that day ye shall ask in My
name. . . . The Father Himself loveth you." John 16:26-27
"At that day ye shall ask in My
name," i.e., in My nature. Not—"You shall use My name as a magic
word," but—"You will be so intimate with Me that you will be one with Me." "That
day" is not a day hereafter, but a day meant for here and now. "The
Father Himself loveth you"—the union is so complete and absolute.
Our Lord does not mean that life will be free from external perplexities but
that just as He knew the Father’s heart and mind, so by the baptism of the
Holy Ghost He can lift us into the heavenly places where He can reveal the
counsels of God to us.
"Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father
in My name . . ." "That day"
is a day of undisturbed relationship between God and the saint. Just as
Jesus stood unsullied in the presence of His Father, so by the mighty
efficacy of the baptism of the Holy Ghost, we can be lifted into that
relationship—"that they may be one, even as We are
one."
". . . He will give it you." Jesus
says that God will recognize our prayers. What a challenge! By the
Resurrection and Ascension power of Jesus, by the sent-down Holy Ghost, we
can be lifted into such a relationship with the Father that we are at one
with the perfect sovereign will of God by our free choice even as Jesus was.
In that wonderful position, placed there by Jesus Christ, we can pray to God
in His name, in His nature, which is gifted to us by the Holy Ghost, and
Jesus says—"Whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in
My name, He will give it you." The sovereign character of Jesus
Christ is tested by His own statements.
