[This searching appeal comes as a tender entreaty and rebuke to most of us. Intensive work for God all too often crowds out that vitalizing communion with God that is imperative to spiritual power, and to the truest and most productive service for Him. May these counsels bear tangible fruitage in our lives.---Editors
It is but natural that, with all his hellish shrewdness, Satan's first concern should be to turn us from that which is most essential to our Christian experience. This offers a clue as to why it is easier to get Christians to do almost anything else than pray. I do not mean that it is difficult to teach people to say prayers, but to pray is quite another thing.
The importance of public prayer should not be minimized, or prayer in the family circle, but it is secret prayer that should be especially emphasized, as it is the most important though most neglected of all forms of prayer. A man may pray impressively at the family altar, at the prayer meeting, or in the pulpit on the Sabbath, and yet in secret find it difficult to stay on his knees for any considerable period of time. The depth of one's experience in prayer is measured, not by the length of his prayers in public, but by the time he spends, and really enjoys, alone with God. Until he has found the indescribable sweetness of this hidden communion, he has never really prayed.
The question is frequently asked, How can one find such an all-absorbing interest in prayer that, regardless of the pressure of daily affairs, he is drawn to the secret place to talk with God? How can he develop a communion so sweet that the very spot on which he kneels seems sacred, and he is loath to leave his hidden retreat, even wishing to remain for hours?
Was it not this question that led the disciples to request, "Lord, teach us to pray"? At the time this request was made, the disciples were not ignorant of the forms and customs of prayer, nor could they have been unaccustomed to praying. Notice the wording of Luke 11:1, where this request is recorded: "It came to pass, that, as He was praying in a certain place, when He ceased, one of His disciples said unto Him, Lord, teach us to pray." Of this occasion we read on pages 151, 152, of "Mount of Blessing:"
"The disciples had been for a short time absent from their Lord, when on their return they found Him absorbed in communion with God. Seeming unconscious of their presence, He continued praying aloud. The Saviour's face was irradiated with celestial brightness. He seemed to be in the very presence of the Unseen. . . . The hearts of the listening disciples were deeply moved. .. . As He ceased praying . . . they exclaimed, 'Lord, teach us to pray.' "
The disciples were well acquainted with the religious customs of the day, and prayer was not new to them. But here was One who found such an all-absorbing interest and source of strength in prayer that He could pray all night, and even the approach of men did not disturb His communion with Heaven. Seemingly unconscious of their presence, He continued praying as they stood gazing upon Him.
What was the secret of this deep experience in prayer? This the disciples longed to know. The answer is clearly given in the first words of the Saviour's response: "When ye pray, say, Our Father which art in heaven." Luke 11:2.. In other words, if we would enjoy prayer, we must realize that God is oar Father, and be conscious of His personal presence.
It is a sad fact that the vast majority of Christians find no real joy in prayer, and many admit that it is hard to bring themselves to devote a definite time each day to secret communion with God. Yet these same persons will journey long distances to see a father or a mother, and will find great pleasure in visiting by the hour.
Wherein lies the difference? Ah! one is a theory, and the other a reality. The personal presence of God is not real to the great majority of those who profess to pray, and therefore praying is a difficult task. But to one who knows God as his Father, and who is conscious of the immediate presence of the Divine, prayer is a great delight. To him there is no other privilege so sacred or so sweet, and if life's duties would permit, he would gladly spend the day in the place of secret prayer. An hour with a tender, loving Father, who is vitally interested in all our affairs, seems but a moment, and leaves us longing for more of His divine companionship.
I am convinced that we as ministers must seek to bring into our experience, and into the experience of those to whom we minister, a more definite consciousness of the reality of God and His personal relation to human beings.
Chicago, Ill.
