Sunday Reading

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XIV, Issue 276, 1 November 1924, Page 9

Sunday Reading

PRAYER—AND COD’S ANSWER. (By the Hon. and Bev. E. Lyttelton.) When tho rector of Barnet was lying seriously ill recently the Bishop of St. Albans asked for a united effort of prayer for the preservation of his life. The rector died, and in the following article the Hon. the Bev. E. Lyttelton, the former headmaster of Eton, and now Dean of Whitelands College, Chelsea, deala with the power of prayer, and gives his interpretation why it frequently, to outward appearance, fails. WE must not blind our eyes to the fact that to many serious-minded people to-day the duty, of praying for the sick presents a grave difficulty. If it is commended, why does it so often fail? Or, again, if the petition is offered in the hope that some spiritual benefit may result, then what is the special obligation of praying at all—different. that is, from the duty of general interception? Let us remind ourselves of one fundamental principle, brought out in several passages in the Gospel, notably by Mark X- 35 seq., viz., that the divine method of dealing with man is to make clear the next step that he has to take and leave the result of it in obscurity. The two brothers were taught they were to expect the ChristCup as tho one certain stage in their progress to the Kingdom; but the reward of martyrdom, of obedience, was left in the mystery of tho divine counsels. Our Burden. Mankind is always fretting at this ordinance. We hasten forward in anticipation of what we shall gain; but God reminds us of what we have to bear. That law is enforced through the whole Bible. How clearly we are shown that true obedience is that which is rendered when no particular gain can be forecast; rather, when all the arguments are on the other side—e.g., Saul, Gehazi, Ahab, Ahaz, Judas are all instances of disobedience for which there was a great deal to be said. Contrast the promise given to the other Saul: “I will show him what great things he must suffer for My Name’s sake.”

What is the bearing of this on prayer? Of all the commands of God to man, this that we should pray for each other has been the most distinctly emphasised. Think of Christ’s own action. He set the example, and took pains that His followers should know what He was doing, for He told them that He had prayed for Peter, whereas there must have been countless petitions which He offered but never mentioned. Again, the mighty prayer on the Cross which keeps the Church alive to-day, the “Father, forgive them,” which the Christ-like Stephen repeated, was a prayer for which no common-sense reason can be given. It transcends all common sense, all understanding, being a hint from behind the veil that God invites us to co-operate with Him; but He does not tell us how: only just enough to remhid us that He has given His children, all of them, a “hearty desire to pray, ,r * and a promise that no genuine prayer shall be in vain. “Yes, out,” says the objector, “we are supposing a case like the one under discussion, when prayer is in vain, when obedience has been rendered and the promise is ‘of none effect.’ ” Now every one knows, who has really tried to pray, that God gives either the thing asked for or strength to bear the refusal. This is, of course—l mean the power to be convinced of it—the work of the “Consolator Optimus.” It is that which enables Christian workers, especially, teachers, to bear the awful burden of man’s rejection of their message. Meantime there are certain other considerations which give light to them that sit in darkness “and in the shadow of death.” Intercessary prayer is so plainly a Divine command tnat we “of little faith” do not dare give it up altogether, but nearly all of us find it very difficult indeed Jjot to listen to the tempter’s habitual suggestion: “This is quite the right thing to do, but you don’t really suppose it will make any difference,” and forthwith our prayer becomes languid. Moral of St. Paul. Yet how emphatic Christ was that to resist this doubt was the one essential condition of offering a genuine prayer. He knew that we should always be wanting things that in His love He must withhold, and the story of St. Paul gives us a really clear case of withholding what must at the time have seemed cruel. The Apostle was sorely hampered by a “stake in the flesh'’ which must have hindered him grievously in the one thing he passionately loved, his evangelising work, and what happened? He praved with the utmost fervour that it should be removed, and the prayer was refused. We may be sure that he was able before long to give thanks for the refusal, because his acceptance of God’s will was so complete that he was able to write later on, “In everything give thanks,” “Rejoice in the I«ord alway.” Withheld From Us. The truth is, God has withheld from us how we co-operate with him in our prayers. My conviction is that if Christ had told us we should not have understood. One thing we do know is that the withholding is in love, and we may—not, must—be grateful to Him for so dealing with us. One more fact. It must only be a tiny proportion of God’s doings that we see: the number of wonderful things we never see nor hear of must be infinitely beyond what we shall ever conceive of on this side of the veil. If we could tell beforehand what God is going to do, is it not certain that we should cease to adore Him ?