074. The Lord’s Prayer.

The Lord’s Prayer. This prayer is given as a model. And where, in beauty and comprehensiveness, exists its equal? Every thought is natural; every part of it simple; and yet, in these few and brief sentences, there is involved whatever is needed by mankind, whether as individuals, as families, as nations, or as a race.

It is designed to express the manner in which we are to offer our supplications to God. “After this manner pray ye.” Christ would not confine us to the precise words or petitions here used. The substance of this prayer is recorded in the eleventh chapter of Luke; but it is there expressed in language sufficiently different to indicate that Christ did not intend to present this as a form of prayer to be used on all occasions, but “to express the substance of our petitions—to specify to his ignorant disciples what petitions it would be proper to present to God.” Christ did not always use this prayer himself, (SecMatthew 26:39-42; Matthew 26:44) and, indeed, there is no proof that either he or his disciples ever used it exactly in this form. The “Lord’s Prayer,” as it is commonly called, consists of three parts: (The author, in this division, follows Mr. Bickersteth.) I. An Introduction, or Invocation.

“Our Father, which art in heaven.”

II.Six Petitions; three of which have reference to the glory of God, and three to our own temporal and spiritual wants:

III. A Conclusion; in which the perfections of God are acknowledged, and are plead as a reason why the petitions should be granted. The reader will observe, that, in this prayer, men are not taught to ask in the name of Christ. “The reason may be,” observes a writer, “that, when it was given, Christ’s atonement had not actually taken place, nor his intercession, as a risen Savior, begun. Therefore, our Lord says: ‘Hitherto ye have asked nothing in my name: at that day ye shall ask in my name.” John 16:24; John 16:26.

Introduction.

Matthew 6:9.

[Note: The author takes pleasure in acknowledging his indebtedness for some valuable thoughts on the Lord’s Prayer toManuscript Sermonson the same subject, by Rev. William W. Woodworth, Berlin.]

Never had the saints of the “olden time” addressed God in terms so filial and familiar as these. God had, indeed, revealed himself on various occasions, and to various individuals, as a God of kindness and compassion. To Moses, he had proclaimed himself, “the Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious.” The Psalmist often bears testimony to the benevolence of God: “The Lord is gracious, and full” of compassion; slow to anger, and of great mercy.” Indeed, God had, in express terms, styled himself a “Father to Israel.” Jeremiah 31:9. But, on no page, do we find the children of God, nor even the prophets, in their addresses and supplications to Him, using this tender and affectionate appellation. Rather, they seem to have been more impressed with his infinite majesty and awful glory. Even the Psalmist, whose intercourse and communion with God seems to have been peculiarly intimate and delightful, never calls him “Father.” This direction, then, of Jesus to his disciples, in reference to prayer, seems, in some sort, a new revelation; at least, here was a new era in man’s intercourse with God. From this time, that intercourse was to be more intimate and more frequent. The reign of mercy was about to commence in better earnest. The Messenger of mercy was now on earth, and was about to open still wider the “happy gates of gospel grace.” There he would soon station himself, and make proclamation, “night and day:” “Ask, and ye shall receive; seek, and ye shall find.” There, too, the God of grace and love would himself appear; and, looking upon the face of his Anointed, would say, bending from his throne, “I will be to you a father, and ye shall be my sons and daughters.” Blessed annunciation! Most delightful assurance! And may I—I, a worm of the dust—poor, insignificant, and, more than all, a vile and ungrateful sinner—may I hope for such honor? for such grace? And can this mighty King Of glory condescend? And will he write his name, ‘My father and my friend?’

I love his name!    |        Join all my powers,

I love his word!|Andpraise the Lord. In a sense, God is the father of all, whatever be their moral dispositions. He has fashioned their bodies, and endowed them with rational and immortal minds; and, as his offspring, he regards them with kindness and compassion. He provides for them those temporal blessings which they daily need, and takes a deep and abiding interest in their spiritual and eternal joy. There is not that human being, how degraded and wretched he may be, who may not direct his eye to heaven, and say—and say in truth to God, “Thou art my Father:” and upon that being God looks, not with complacency—that is impossible, for what concord has holiness and sin?—but he regards him with benevolence, and would, were the wretch willing, call him “son,” in a higher sense, and upon a better basis. He would adopt him into his family, fold him to his bosom, and give him an inheritance—a glorious inheritance on high.

He has done so, and is doing so, with a portion of mankind. As many as receive Christ, to them he gives power to become the sons of God. They repent and believe, and are, therefore, adopted into the family of God. These are his children in a peculiar sense; these have the privileges of sons and daughters; these have a right to call God “Father.” They are no longer aliens, but friends; no more outcasts, but fellow-citizens—children—heirs. The promises are theirs; the inheritance theirs; all they can wish theirs.

Why should not such call God “Father?” And why, when he contemplates them as “one with Jesus Christ,” why should he not own them—love them—bless them? True, they are imperfect now, but they are going on “unto perfection.” They are far away from heaven and glory, but they are, every moment, coming nearer and nearer thereto. What a blessed privilege it is to have God for a “Father!” Thousands and tens of thousands of those who never call him so, and have no right to call him thus, in a spiritual sense, would, if they were to pause and reflect for a few moments, call him so, with all the ardor and affection of “new-born babes.” I often wonder that sinners en masse do not unite and say:

We would no longer lie, Like slaves beneath the throne; Our faith shall Abba, Father, cry, And thou the kindred own. And God would soon own the relationship. Christ would welcome them. He would prove to them that all things are ready for their reception. And God would prove to them, on his part, that all things are theirs—things present, and blessings to come.

But, in addressing God as our father, it is obvious that Christ intended that we should do something more than merely utter the words. They must be uttered with feelings and purposes corresponding to their import. Particularly, we should endeavor to form just views of the character of God; of our dependence upon him; of his kindness and compassion; of his great grace and mercy in Jesus Christ.

Christ presents God to us as “our Father,” and designed, doubtless, that we should address him as such; but we should never forget that he “is in heaven.” True, he is here—wherever we are—especially in the sanctuary, and in the closet—but he is, also, in his majesty and glory, in heaven, as his throne. And, while we may approach him with the confidence and affection, and even familiarity of children, we should remember the reverence due unto his name. Oh, what would Gabriel think! What those pure and exalted beings, who, before the throne on high, veil their faces!—What would they think, should they listen to some prayers offered on earth! In what irreverent terms is God addressed! What offensive familiarity is manifested! What bold and arrogant demands are made upon him! Were an earthly monarch so addressed, he would spurn the suppliant from his presence. And, were it not for “the hiding of his power,” and the superabundance of his patience and grace, God would often let loose his vengeance upon those, who, under pretense of prayer, are mocking him on his footstool.

“The sacrifices of God are a broken heart and a contrite spirit.” Let a child of his come with such an offering, and he will be accepted. He may be ignorant; he may not know how to order his speech; his thoughts may be few and disconnected; he may be able, amidst his sobs and penitential sorrows, only to say, “My Father,” but that child will never be sent empty away. And now, reader, are you an adopted child of God? And do you pray? Is it your delight daily to retire to your closet, and there, where none but God sees, do you delight to say, “Our Father which art in heaven?” Do you feel that reverence—that confidence—that love—that gratitude, which you are under obligations to exercise towards Him, who has given you being, and his Son for your ransom?

If not, as yet, let me press you to a duty paramount to all others. A duty? Yes! That indeed! But also a privilege beyond all others in value on these mortal shores! Let me open up to you a source of joy, which pours forth waters more pure and refreshing than any earthly fountain can do. “Our Father in heaven!”—Let me be able to say that in truth, and he own the relationship—what more can I want? I am sure of his presence—his love—his protection. I know then, “He will guide me with his counsel, and afterwards receive me to glory.” I shall have peace here, and fullness of joy hereafter. A Father’s blessing on earth, and a Father’s love in heaven. Is not that enough? Do I hear you say, My God!—O could I make the claim— My Father, and my Friend! And call thee mine, by every name, On which thy saints depend! Is this your wish? Why not, then, call him so? Can you tell me what forbids?

Matthew 6:9 Of the six petitions, which the Lord’s Prayer contains, the first three have reference to the glory of God, or the honor of the Divine Character. Our Savior gave his Father’s honor this prominence, because of its supreme importance. God is incomprehensibly above and beyond the highest of his creatures. His perfections are infinite. Gabriel has not yet even conceived of the length and breadth, the height and depth, either of the wisdom, power, holiness, or love of his Maker. How comparatively narrow and confined are the views of man on this footstool! Yet, Jesus has taught us to look up—to call God, the Infinite God, “our Father”—and then to honor and reverence Him as such, according to our several ability, by saying, in all our addresses to Him, “Hallowed be thy name.” The Greek word, translated hallow, is elsewhere translated sanctify, which, in its primary signification, means to make holy; and in a secondary use, to treat that which is holy, as holy, or to honor it as such. Applied to God, it denotes that we are to sanctify the Lord, or to render to him the honor and reverence due his holy name: i.e. we are to think of him, feel towards him, and conduct in reference to his wishes and authority, in a manner becoming the sanctity of his infinite and exalted perfections. In offering our petitions, due care should be observed as to the use of the divine name. Such was the reverence of the Hebrews, that in reading the Scriptures, whether in public or in private, they never pronounced the word Jehovah; but wherever that term occurred, they substituted the word Adonai, the Almighty. This we are not required to do, by the most profound reverence of the Infinite God: but we are bound not make too frequent mention of the divine name, not even in prayer, and always with due veneration and solemnity. God is great; glorious in his holiness; fearful in his praises; and ever jealous of his honor. The waiter has known some ministers, and not a few lay-brethren, who made mention of the divine name, in almost every sentence of the prayers they uttered. This is always painful. It savors of irreverence. Its tendency is to lessen our respect for the Divine Being, and must ever exercise an unhappy influence upon unsanctified minds—especially upon youth.

It is doubtless proper to use, on suitable occasions, any of the divine names in addressing God: but it is worthy of remark, that in every instance in which Jesus addresses God in prayer, he does it by the tender appellation of “Father.” (Matthew 27:46, if considered as a prayer, is an exception.) This is intimate indeed; but it is honorable, reverent, delightful. “Now are we the sons of God.” And why should children, adopted, as we have been, for Jesus’ sake, and all made one with him, not imitate him, and call God, “Father,” also? My Father—God! how sweet the sound!

How tender, and how dear! Not all the harmony of heaven Could so delight the ear.

We should offer this, and similar petitions, with due humility. In the sight of Him that sitteth upon the throne, what are we? Dust! ashes! Nothing! But, besides this, we are poor, miserable, vile, by reason of sin. And, yet, God invites and encourages us to come, and make known our wants; confess our sins; and plead for blessings for time present and to come. Nay, he considers himself honored by our confidence; and honored by our sincere and humble praise. “Whoso offereth praise, glorifieth me.”

How befitting, then, that to veneration we add the profoundest humility in all our supplications. Oh, how high— holy—glorious is that God whom we, unseen, adore! Had I a glance of thee, my God!

Kingdoms and men would vanish soon;

Vanish, as though I saw them not, As a dim candle dies at noon!

How is it in that world where God is seen in unclouded majesty? Isaiah tells us: “In vision, he saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. Each one of them had six wings. With two, he covered his face: with two, he covered his feet: and with two, he did fly. And this one called to this one alternately, and said: Holy, holy, holy, Jehovah of hosts! All the earth is full of his glory. And the foundations of the threshold were shaken with the voice of him that cried, and the house was filled with smoke. And I said, Woe is me. I am undone, for I am a man of polluted lips, and in the midst of a people of polluted lips do I dwell, for my eyes have looked upon the king—upon Jehovah of hosts.” Here is the blending of humility and reverence. Here, covering their faces in token of humility, the seraphim hallow the name of the Lord by crying, Holy, holy, holy Jehovah of hosts!

If such pure and exalted beings evince emotions so deep, at the sight of God in his glory; if they must veil their faces expressive of the humility and reverence of their inmost soul: How should we feel?—How should we bow before the footstool, in supplications to Jehovah of hosts! Is there a greater wonder in the universe, than that God should invite and urge poor, sinful, dependent man to communion with him? Yet, He, Lord of all the worlds above, Stoops to converse with you; And lays his radiant glories by, Your friendship to pursue.

If we would offer this petition acceptably, we must honor God in our daily walk and conversation.

We must love, feel, speak, act, as we pray. Men who habitually pray, seldom dishonor God by a profane use of his name; but they may dishonor him, and do dishonor him, if they are not, on all proper occasions, ready to espouse his cause and to defend his truth. I have known men, and professing men, who often doubtless, perhaps daily, said, while bending at the footstool: “Hallowed be thy name,” who had not moral courage sufficient to rebuke profanity when uttered in their presence. And, yet, in a life of half a century, the writer has personally never known the instance in which a profane person was rebuked in kindness, and apart from sinful companions, when the rebuke was not well received. Generally, the folly and guilt of the practice is readily admitted; and sometimes God honors his faithful friends by making them instrumental in converting those who blaspheme, into those who honor and exalt His name.

“Sir,” said the late Dr. Mason, to a stage-coach companion, who had, for several miles, been swearing profanely— “Sir,” said he, taking him by the arm when they stopped, and asking the favor of his company in a short walk—“I have not the honor of your acquaintance, but I perceive that your habits and feelings are those of a gentleman, and that nothing can be more repugnant to your wishes, than giving unnecessary pain to any of your company.” The stranger started, and replied: “Most certainly, sir! I hope I have committed no offense of that sort.”

“You will pardon me,” replied the Dr., “for pointing out an instance in which you have not altogether avoided it.”

“Sir,” said he, “I shall be much your debtor for so friendly an act; for, upon my honor, I cannot imagine in what I have transgressed.”

“If you, sir,” continued the former, “had a very dear friend, to whom you were under unspeakable obligations, should you not be deeply wounded by any disrespect to him, or even by hearing his name introduced, and used with a frequency of repetition and a levity of air, incompatible with the regard due to his character?”

‘Undoubtedly, and I should not permit it! But I know not that I am chargeable with indecorum to any of your friends.”

“Sir, my God is my best friend, to whom I am under infinite obligations. I think you must recollect that you have very frequently, since we commenced our journey, taken his name in vain. This has given to me, and to others of the company, excruciating pain.”

“Sir,” answered he, with very ingenuous emphasis, “I have done wrong. I confess the impropriety. I am ashamed of a practice which, I am sensible, has no excuse: but I have, imperceptibly, fallen into it, and I really swear without being conscious that I do so. I will endeavor to abstain from it in future; and, as you are next to me on the seat, I will thank you to touch my elbow as often as I trespass.” This was agreed upon: the horn sounded, and the travelers resumed their places. In the space of four or five miles, the officer’s elbow was jogged every few seconds. He always colored, but bowed, and received the hint without the least symptom of displeasure: and in a few miles more, so mastered his propensity to swearing, that not an oath was heard from his lips for the rest, which was the greater part of the journey (Christian Magazine, vol. 2: p. 315).

How many, like this officer, are guilty of taking the name of the holy and glorious God in vain—daily—hourly—and almost every moment! And shall the friends of God keep silence? Shall they, who daily pray: “Hallowed be thy name,” excuse themselves from rebuking the profane, on the ground that they have no such duty to discharge?—Or that it will subserve no good purpose? That duty is imperative; it should be discharged kindly—wisely; but never, when it can be done prudently, should it be omitted. And it will ordinarily work for the good of the offender. It may even reform him. It may awaken him to a sense of his guilt, and lead him to praise his Maker with that tongue, which, may be, for years, has been full of blasphemy. It were worth a diadem—one diadem?—It were worth all the diadems which earthly monarchs have worn, or shall ever wear, to make one such conquest.

Matthew 6:10 The kingdom of God extends over the universe of matter and mind. There is not that world that rolls in space—nor that ocean, whose waters wash different and distant continents—nor that river, nor mountain, nor tree, nor flower, nor atom, either here or in worlds remote, that is not the workmanship of God, and under the government of his laws. In all the departments of life, too, from the humblest insect, up through the various ranks of the intelligent creation—man, angels, archangels, principalities, powers—God is the creator, and the omniscient and omnipotent governor. Not even the workers of iniquity can hide themselves from His presence, nor can the powers of darkness claim exemption from His control. Such is the kingdom of God, in the large or universal sense. But there is another kingdom, more limited, which has been set up in this world, and which God regards with infinite favor. It is often brought to view in the Scriptures, and is there variously designated, as “the kingdom of heaven”— “the kingdom of Christ”—“the kingdom of God.” This kingdom was the subject of prophecy for ages before Christ appeared on earth. But, at length, in the fullness of time, he came; gathered to his standard a few followers; instructed them as to the character which his subjects must sustain, and as to the principles by which their conduct must be regulated; and then, having laid down his life for them, he rose in triumph: and, commissioning them to go forth, and extend his kingdom throughout the world, he himself departed to his mediatorial throne in the heavens, to aid them in making their conquests over the sons of men, and in gathering all nations to his standard. The subjects of this kingdom are embodied in the Christian church. They live in different countries; under different human governments; speak different languages, and observe different customs. But as to cardinal or fundamental truths, they have one faith; and as to conduct, they are governed by the same great principles. They have one king, Jesus Christ; one aim, his glory; one spirit, humbleness of mind; one law of kindness, love; one object, the subjugation of the world to the Redeemer; and one result of their conflicts, trials, and toils: a common inheritance in the kingdom of glory. The Church, or kingdom of Christ, was small in its beginning. It has been enlarging for eighteen hundred years: it has made some noble conquests. Jesus has called to his service not a few, in whose bosoms has burned the love of God, and who have made successful assaults upon the powers of darkness and the enemies of the Cross. There were Paul and his companions; there were Luther and his coadjutors; and, in later times, hundreds of faithful missionaries and thousands of godly ministers and laymen, who have been abroad in the field; and they have pulled down many a stronghold of Satan, and added many to the standard of Jesus. But there is much territory yet to be possessed. The god of this world still holds his iron sway over hundreds of millions; but he is destined to be circumscribed, until at last God will himself make the proclamation: “Zion! thy warfare is accomplished!” “the kingdoms of this world have become the kingdoms of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” Yes: blessed be God!—

Jesus shall reign where’er the sun Does his successive journeys run; His kingdom stretch from shore to shore, Till moon shall wax and wane no more. But how is this glorious era to be reached?—this blessed change in man’s condition to be accomplished?

There are various instrumentalities, which the King of Zion has and will continue to employ. The Bible must be sent forth: knowledge must be diffused: the flood-gates of vice closed: Missionaries, in panoply complete, dispatched by hundreds and thousands, to every nation on the globe. And is this all? All!—No: there is one instrumentality more efficient, if I may so say, than all yet named: That instrumentality is prayer. On this subject, Jesus has given direction—a laconic direction; but it will stand, while there is one nation yet un-Christianized, or one heart unsubdued among all this world’s population, as a commanding duty of the Church of Jesus Christ. Surely, that duty is pressing now, with the weight of Atlas, upon the friends of Immanuel and the friends of souls. Yes: from every sanctuary, from every missionary station, from every social prayer meeting, from every closet, from every Christian’s heart, should ascend the prayer—daily, hourly—“thy kingdom come”

Arm of the Lord, awake! awake!

Put on thy strength—the nations shake!

Now let the world, adoring, see Triumphs of mercy wrought by thee.

Say to the heathen, from thy throne, “I am Jehovah! God alone!”

Thy voice their idols shall confound, And cast their altars to the ground. But while we give this prominence and importance to prayer, let not the friends of Jesus think that prayer is all. Far from it. Each professor of the gospel should make a more perfect consecration of his heart to God. He should feel more and more his duty to his Lord, and more and more the value of souls. How can that man pray sincerely and affectionately for the triumph of the truth over others, when he does not wish his own heart to come under the full influence of it! How can he have the love of God supreme in his soul, and not wish that love pervading the bosom of others? or how can be pray in sincerity for these, when, of his hundreds, and perhaps thousands, he has nothing to contribute to the treasury of the Lord! When Jesus directs his disciples to pray, “Thy kingdom come,” he expects them to do more than simply utter the words: something more must be done, or the heathen will not be converted. Christ will not himself preach, nor will he provide funds, by any coinage of money, to sustain missionaries in the field. This duty he has committed to his Church: and when they act in accordance with their Master’s wishes and injunctions, they will put in requisition every instrumentality, and then add that other and mighty auxiliary—prayer. And when in these respects the Church shall do her duty —her whole duty—each one coming up “to the help of the Lord against the mighty,” then will come a day which has as yet only dawned upon this guilty world. Then—in all its fullness, and in all its glory—

Then shall that kingdom come Among our fallen race, And all the earth become The temple of his grace:

Whence pure devotion shall ascend, And songs of praise, till time shall end.

Matthew 6:10 Let us enter upon the inquiry: “How is the will of God done in heaven?”

It is done cheerfully.

“It is the very natural motion of glorified spirits,” says the excellent Leighton, “to be acted and moved by the will of God. ‘They excel in strength,’ says the Psalmist, ‘and do his commandments;’ they have no other use for all their strength; that is the proper employment of it.” They love to do the will of God, because it is His will; and, no sooner is that will expressed, than all heaven moves towards the object sought, as naturally and spontaneously as the planet moves around its primary. There are no murmurings, nor disputings, nor repinings; no wishes, felt or expressed, that a duty assigned to one had been assigned to another. Nor is there ever any reluctance felt to enter upon the service at the time appointed. No private business—no selfish plan intervenes, to postpone the divine work for a single moment. Each one is ever at his post. Each one is ready to lift his wing, and fly unto the uttermost parts of the world and the universe, saying, in every step of his onward progress, “I delight to do thy will, O my God!”

It is done unanimously and harmoniously.

We again adopt the language of Leighton: “There is neither an evil eye of envy among them, nor a lofty eye of pride, whatsoever degrees there may be among them in their stations and employments. The lesser do not envy the greater, nor the greater despise the less; and the reason is, because they are all so wholly taken up, and so strongly united, in this joint desire of doing the will of God.” One spirit pervades the whole; one law is written upon their hearts. Gabriel never declines a service because it is beneath him; and the smallest and weakest angel and saint never object because the service is too hard.

It is done uninterruptedly. The heavenly inhabitants need no sleep—no rest; for they experience no fatigue. They are, therefore, always abroad in the field of duty, praising God in his temple, or studying his works, or ministering to the heirs of salvation, or out on some errand in some distant world, or in some remote region of space. They never need to pause, unless it be to admire the wisdom and glory of God; never need to suspend their labors, unless it be to inquire, “Lord, what further can I do?” “The chain of their obedience,” as one observes, “is never broken; but link after link of bright acts is added to that chain, stretching on, from the moment of their being in heaven, through eternal ages.” “They serve Him day and night in his temple.”

It is done submissively.

Angels, and spirits of just men made perfect, are, by no means, perfect in knowledge, whatever they may be in spirit. An infinite distance stretches between them and the infinite wisdom of God. Not Gabriel, nor his companions—those elder sons of creation—not Abel, nor Noah, nor Abraham— those early pioneers to glory—yet comprehend much of the ways of God. How should they? They are, indeed, learning, and have been learning with ease and joy; drinking at the fountains of wisdom and knowledge for ages; yet how much must they still take on trust! They may be called to perform services for the Church; for the inhabitants of other worlds—the object and influence of which may lie in impenetrable darkness; they may be required to do acts, which will tell on distant ages, and distant and yet unborn millions, yet their readiness is instant. They know it is not for them curiously to pry into the secrets of the Lord Almighty, but to fulfill his pleasure, as well when the final cause is shrouded in darkness, as when God pours upon it the light of a meridian sun. Earth sometimes gives a beautiful illustration of the manner in which things are done in heaven. The following is an example:

“Some little Sabbath-school girls were once questioned in respect to the petition of the text, ‘What is to be done?’ ‘God’s will,’ was the answer. ‘Where?’ ‘On earth.’ ‘How?’ ‘As it is in heaven?’ ‘And how do the angels in heaven do it?’ ‘They do it immediately,’ said one. ‘Actively,’ said another. ‘Unitedly,’ replied a third; and then there was a pause. At length, a little girl arose, and said: ‘Why, sir, they do it without asking any questions!’

Thus, the will of God is done in heaven cheerfully, unanimously and harmoniously, uninterruptedly and submissively; or, as said the little Sabbath-school girl, “without asking any questions and when we offer the petition, “Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven,” we pray that here, among the children of men, among all nations, by every individual, it may be done in like manner. And why should we not thus pray? Is it replied, that we can scarcely hope that our individual prayers can have the effect to influence God thus to move upon the hearts of every individual! But away with such an objection! Has not Christ enjoined such prayer? Are not his authority and injunction sufficient? Besides, if all the pious so pray, in the closet, in the family, in the public assembly, who can say that God may not consistently, at so wide and universal a call, bless every son and daughter of Adam? Who will say that the humble and fervent prayer of one righteous man may not avail for a blessing upon a world! But Christ has so enjoined. This is reason sufficient for the sincere, and humble, and obedient disciple.

How agreeable to the holy and benevolent heart so to pray! Every such heart cannot but wish that the will of God may be done. It desires that God may be thus honored by his creatures. It feels—it knows that that will is right. It knows that from such holy and perfect obedience springs the happiness of heaven above. It knows that such obedience would transform every moral desert into an Eden; our sinful and ungodly world, into a heaven below. The will of God universally done here, our prison-houses and dungeons would soon be demolished; fraud, rapine, lust, and murder would be unknown; the gibbet and the gallows would be raised no more; and no more would be seen garments rolled in blood. The wife, abused and forsaken, would light once more the lamp of joy within her habitation; and the squalid orphan, stripped of its support by grinding avarice, would sing again, as when happy, around the paternal fireside.

What a commission has Christ given to his followers! to the Church, which he has purchased with his own blood! What a sublime and glorious object is set before us! Let us contribute to such a consummation as much as lies within our power. If prayer will help accomplish it, let us pray. If sacrifice, self-denial, let us toil, and deny ourselves. There have been mighty objects set before men in the past history of the world, but none so glorious as that of bringing all hearts in unison with those above. In those vast schemes, only the great and honorable could bear a part, as they only were expected to reap the glory; but in this of making earth like heaven—men obedient to the will of God, as are saints and angels—the humblest disciple of Jesus may be as efficient as the most distinguished; and, blessed be God, not one, whether high or low, known or obscure, will lose his reward.

Matthew 6:11

There have been those who have affected to think it “beneath the exalted and spiritual business of prayer,” to be daily inviting the attention of the great Jehovah to our temporal wants; and inconsistent with those holy desires, which should ever characterize the Christian, to be thinking of “what we shall eat, or what we shall drink, or wherewithal we shall be clothed.” And undue anxiety, in regard to these matters, is beneath rational and immortal beings. We may, perhaps, wonder Why a clod of earth was designed To enclose a heavenly star;

But, if we look a little farther, we shall see sufficient displays in these “earthly tabernacles” to call forth our admiration and praise. “We are fearfully and wonderfully made.” Why not cherish a frame which God has deemed wise to create, and upon which he has bestowed so much skill in its workmanship? We may, indeed, say of it, as has said the poet:

Weak cottage, where our souls reside— This flesh a tottering wall; And weak it is; and destined, notwithstanding all our care of it, not long hence, to be taken down. And, indeed, it is best that it should be “dissolved it is unworthy, as a permanent abode, of a soul washed in the blood of Jesus; and, as “flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God,” it is even necessary that it should die. But, as it contains the elements of a nobler fabric, and is hereafter to be fashioned after Christ’s “most glorious body,” it should be properly cared for, and provided for. So Christ has himself decided. Daily are we authorized and enjoined to ask of our heavenly Father all needful temporal mercies; and, when granted, we are thankfully to use them.

“By bread, as the chief support and staff of man’s life, is meant,” says Leighton, “all needful temporal blessings, food and raiment, and health, and peace, etc.; a blessing on the works of our calling, and the seasons of the year, and all our lawful temporal affairs.” And the great reason why we are daily to pray for these blessings is, that we daily need them, and are dependent upon God for them. “Every good and perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights.” “He openeth his hand, and supplieth the wants of every living thing.”

There is, indeed, much practical unbelief among men, in relation to this dependence upon God. The unsanctified heart does not relish the thought; and the arrangements of Providence are such, that men can, if they please, shut their eyes to the operations of his hand. God has, indeed, in some periods of the world, and in relation, at least, to one people, in contravention of the order of nature, directly and visibly supplied man’s temporal wants. He has rained bread from heaven, and brought forth water from the flinty rock. But this is not common. Ordinarily, he works by second causes, and supplies our wants by processes, which men arc wont to forget are His processes, and the results of which are as truly his, as if he wrought miracles at the instant to produce them. The truth is, we cannot do without God for a moment. Let him withhold his hand, and, that instant, the wheels of nature stop. The winds of heaven would cease to move; the clouds would gather no more, and no more rain would descend upon the earth. The springs would dry up; the grass in the fields would perish, and the cattle upon our hills would die. Not another field would wave with its yellow harvest; and not another corn-sheaf be gathered into the garner.

But, far more than this, God may continue the established laws of nature, and still our dependence is complete. Our barns may be filled, and the lightning may burn them. Our coffers may overflow, and some thief may rob them. Our habitations may be warm and comfortable, and some tempest may raze them to their foundation. Our vessels may come richly freighted to our harbors, and there the storm may sink them. There is not that temporal blessing, which we value, which God cannot, by one turn of his providence, take away. There is not that temporal want which he cannot supply; nor any, which, if supplied, must not proceed from his bountiful hand.

Such being our dependence, is it not befitting that we should acknowledge it? If our daily blessings proceed from God, is it not right that we should daily ask them at his hand, and daily express our gratitude for them? The spirit of the petition evidently imports, that we should be moderate in our desires for earthly good. “All the other petitions,” says an old writer, “are for things spiritual; and but one for temporals. Those that regard the glory of God are three to one with it; and those that concern our own spiritual good, two to one.” We may ask for bread; for that, which, according to the conditions of humanity, are essential for our support, but we are not permitted to ask for luxuries and superfluities. If God gives us earthly blessings, more in number, and of greater value, we should use them as not abusing them: if he withhold them, we have no right to murmur or repine. Says an apostle: “Having food and clothing, let us therewith he content.” These are all that we absolutely require. Riches, coveted and idolized as they frequently are, often prove a hindrance to the Christian in his preparation for that world of holiness to which he is bound. Cautious should the children of God be, in coveting that which has so often proved a snare; and which, in the sequel, has pierced many through with sorrow.

There is still another thought connected with this subject, which has often been brought to view in these pages, viz: that prayer for blessings does not supersede the necessity of labor to obtain them. The rule is, to pray for them as if they were altogether the gift of God; and to labor for them as if their supply depended entirely upon ourselves. Nor is there inconsistency in this. God provides us with wheat; but we must sow and cultivate it. He clothes us; but we must rear the sheep, whose fleece forms our raiment. He causes the springs to run among the hills; but we must dig our wells, and raise water therefrom.

But, passing from the consideration of things temporal, to things spiritual and eternal; from the body to the soul, as we should ever be ready to do—we may well be exhorted to pray more—far more—for the “meat that endureth unto life eternal!” The body will soon wear out, and cease to want. All that it will need is a few habiliments for the grave, and a place of repose, after the toils and trials of life. But the soul will live on! Its wants will continue to increase, while eternal ages continue to roll.

Let us, then, while we seek and pray—as we may seek and may pray for the comforts of life—not neglect provision for the immortal part beyond this vale of tears. Gain what we may, we can enjoy but little, and for only a brief period. It is the future which claims our chief interest; it is for eternity that we should be chiefly anxious. Happy is the man, who, taught by the grace of God, and by his own experience of the insufficiency of the world, can say: My soul forsakes her vain delight, And bids the world farewell; On things of sense, why fix my sight?

Why on its pleasures dwell?

There’s nothing round this spacious earth, That suits my large desire; To boundless joy and solid mirth My nobler thoughts aspire.
Where pleasure rolls its living flood, From dross and sense refined;

Still springing from the throne of God, And fit to cheer the mind.

Matthew 6:12

“Debt” as generally used, is a commercial term, denoting that which is due from one person to another; or, that which one person is bound to pay or perform to another, according to contract, for something which he has had. As no such transaction as this exists between God and man, the word debt, in this petition, must be taken in a different sense. It is obviously used in a figurative sense for sin, or transgression. So Luke has it in the parallel passage, Luke 11:4. In the fourteenth and fifteenth verses of this chapter (Matthew 6:14-15), the Savior uses the word “trespasses” as synonymous with debts. The original word is elsewhere translated transgressions. We might, therefore, read: “Forgive us our sins, or transgressions, as we forgive those who have sinned against us, or done us injury.” The term “forgive,” in general, means to overlook an offense, and to treat the offender as not guilty. Applied to a literal debt, it means to cancel that debt; or, to release the debtor from his obligation to pay. To forgive a sin, or transgression, is, as Leighton remarks, “to acquit the sinner from the curse, or punishment of sin, and to restore him to all the privileges which he had forfeited by his transgression.”

Now, when, and on what terms, or conditions, are we thus to forgive those who have injured us?

I answer, immediately on their giving evidence of penitence: “Forgiveness implies that we are restored to the same state of mind with regard to the author of an injury, as if the injury had never been committed. That the forgiveness be complete, wanting nothing, we should look on him, not only with the same sense of security, and the same desires for his welfare, but with the same moral complacency, as if he were a faultless man in respect to us; viewing him with the same confidence and esteem, as if the offense had been blotted altogether from our recollection; or, as if he had never been an offender.” This is the condition on which God forgives sinners; and on no less, and on no other condition, does he ever forgive. Penitence is required of each and every one, whether he be young or old; whether guilty of few or of many sins. “Repent or perish,” is a rule which admits of no alteration. In like manner, we are not under obligation to forgive one who has injured us, unless he be penitent. In relation to a literal debt, we are not bound to cancel it, without payment. Yet, even here, we may not be overbearing and oppressive; we must forgive, or cancel it, if it cannot be paid; or, if it will greatly distress a wife and children, or the widow and the fatherless. But it is impossible to forgive, in the legitimate sense of that word, one who has wronged us, without the evidence of penitence. But how are we to treat such a one as does not give evidence of penitence? May I injure him in turn? No. May I persecute him?

No,—by no means. In certain cases, the good of society— the peace and welfare of community—may admit, and even require, though, perhaps rarely, and then never with feelings of revenge, that I prosecute the man who has done me wrong. But I have no right to render evil for evil. I may not hate an enemy, i.e. his person, however much I may abhor his wickedness; but I must love him, and be ready and anxious to do him good. Says Christ: “Love your enemies; bless them that curse you; do good to them that hate you; and pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you; that you may be the children of your Father, who is in heaven; for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.” And, says an apostle: “If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink; for in so doing, thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head. Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.”

While such are the inculcations of the gospel, touching our feelings and conduct towards those who have wronged us, it no where enjoins forgiveness without penitence. On the contrary, it makes the latter, a condition of the former. Says Christ: “If thy brother trespass against thee, rebuke him; and if he repent, forgive him: and if he trespass against thee seven times in a day, and seven times in a day turn again, saying: I repent, thou shalt forgive him.” There are, indeed, passages, in which the duty of forgiveness is enjoined, while the repentance of the offender is not specified as a condition; but that condition is, of necessity, implied; for it is utterly impossible that I should have the complacency and confidence in one who has done me wrong, which true forgiveness implies, while he is not penitent. Until he is penitent, he rejoices in the wrong done; and, therefore, is unworthy my confidence. In such a one, it is impossible to take delight, or to regard him as if he had never committed the wrong. To sum up the whole—“the measure by which we may expect forgiveness, is that which we use in reference to others. But as we are not required, and, indeed, cannot forgive, in the full import of that term, those who have injured us, without penitence on their part; so we are not to expect, nor have we a right to ask, God to forgive us, without being penitent ourselves.” But there are several things which we are to do, in reference to those who have injured us, or we cannot hope to be forgiven of God. I will mention but two:

We must be willing to take the lead in effecting a reconciliation with the one who has wronged us.

Some might be willing to forgive, provided the offender come to them, and express his penitence. This he should indeed do; but the gospel requires us to make the advance, if that be necessary;—“go and tell him his fault,”—do it in the spirit of brotherly kindness, and with a sincere desire to gain him. Upon this principle, God has acted in reconciling the world unto himself. While we were yet enemies, God moved towards us; and, had he not done so, not one sinner would ever have repented; not one would ever have been reconciled to him. Until we are willing to imitate the divine example, in reference to a reconciliation with the man who has injured us, we should never offer the Lord’s Prayer; especially the petition: “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

We must be willing to make sacrifices to effect a reconciliation.

God has made one sacrifice, the like of which we can never make, in order to break down the wall of separation between himself and a world in hostility. He has freely given up his Son for us all; his coequal and well-beloved Son, to the death of the cross. And shall we not sacrifice our pride—our false honor, for so noble a purpose as effecting a peace between ourselves and a fellow-immortal?—One whom we hope to meet in a Father’s house on high, and with whom to join in songs of praise for ever and ever? Is this too much? But the sacrifice, great as we may deem it, is required; and, if we are not willing to make it, we should not hope for forgiveness from God.

Matthew 6:13 The Divine Oracles have decided this one important point, thereby refuting a charge made by generation after generation; that, for the purpose of leading men astray from the path of virtue, or inducing them to sin, God never tempts them, either by “putting evil into their hearts, suggesting it to their thoughts, or necessitating them to the commission of it.” The perfections of God forbid it. Says the apostle James: “Let no man say, when he is tempted, I am tempted of God; for God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any man.”

Temptations do, indeed, exist, and even abound. We meet them in every path we tread, and every society in which we mingle. But they are not of divine origin, in any such sense as to implicate God in the guilt of those, who yield to them. Yet they exist, it must be admitted, by divine permission, and have the effect to make trial of men’s hearts, and tend to discover what dispositions prevail within them. “That I may prove them, saith the Lord, whether they will walk in my law or no.” God knows when and where men will meet with temptations, and for wise reasons he allows them to be tried by them. But in no case does he, by any direct agency or influence, cause men to fall into sin by yielding to them. On the other hand, the petition does not authorize us to pray God to preserve us from all temptations, of every kind and degree; for then, as an apostle says, we “must needs go out of the world.” No man can spend a single day in discharging the common duties of life, or in mingling in the ordinary business transactions of life, without meeting with temptations. And as this is impossible, and it being obviously no design of Christ to instruct us to pray God to take us out of the world, we must seek for some meaning consistent with other scripture, and with common sense. What, then, is the true interpretation?

There are two kinds, or classes, of temptations, besides those temptations which are common and unavoidable.

1. There are temptations which come in upon us like the waves of the sea. They are sudden and unexpected; powerful and tremendous. We are not, at the moment, prepared for them; and, if there be no succor at hand, we are overwhelmed. Or, to vary the figure, these temptations are like the “fiery darts” of the wicked one. They are shot from a bow which sends with surprising swiftness, and at a time when, may be, we are off our guard; and, unless some friendly hand ward them off, we are seriously, if not fatally wounded.

2. There is a second class of temptations, which may be denominated the seductive. These, if slower in their approach, are, perhaps, not less dangerous. They steal upon us insidiously, and take us captive, ere our sense of danger is awakened. Like as the incautious mariner is insensibly drawn by the distant whirlpool towards its fatal center, nor perceives he his danger till too late—so smoothly and silently does he move—so temptation may allure us on, step by step, nor we perceive our danger, till retreat is impossible, and ruin inevitable.

Oh, how many thousands of our race—not merely those in the morning of life, upon whom temptation might be expected to exert a more baleful influence—have been cast down wounded! Strong men and mighty men have fallen; those who thought themselves “strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.” The Scriptures present us with some melancholy examples; and the annals of the Church with still more. Without the constant care and grace of God, no man is safe. We may rise happy and joyful in the morning—the light of God’s countenance beaming in upon us, and we may go forth to our business or our pleasure, and if God leave us but for a moment, we are caught in some snare set for us—or, laid prostrate by some enemy’s hand outstretched against us. Night sets in upon us, and finds us wretched and forlorn—perhaps solitary in our closet, pouring out our sorrows, and saying: Our sins, alas! how strong they be, And, like a violent sea, They break our duty, Lord, to thee, And hurry us away.

It is against such temptations, that the Savior enjoins us particularly to pray. We may not, indeed, be safe against any temptation, but certainly not against such as come upon us so insidiously as some do—perhaps in the garb of a friend; nor safe against others, which rush out upon us from behind some ambush, and lay us prostrate ere we are aware of an attack. Our only safety lies in the grace of God— restraining our enemies from making their assaults upon us; or. in case of an assault, hastening to our rescue. “If God be for us, who can be against us?” If, in the hour of our danger, he appear for our deliverance—

Satan may vent his sharpest spite, And all his legions roar;

Almighty mercy guards our life, And bounds his raging power. But is prayer against temptation our only duty? Does he fulfill the injunction of our Lord, who, to prayer, does not add watchfulness? With what sincerity does he offer this petition, who, the next hour, needlessly, exposes himself to those sources of temptation against which he has prayed? Is it wise for the reformed inebriate to go from the footstool to the tavern or the dram-shop? Is it safe for the young man to venture near to her “whose house inclineth unto death?” Shall the profane pray for non-conformity to the world, and then rush into scenes of gayety and folly, with the expectation of being preserved uncontaminated, because he has so prayed? We may not tempt the Lord our God. We must act in consistency with our supplications. We have ourselves something to do. It is not sufficient to pray to be kept from falling; we must avoid, as far as practicable, the occasions which lead men to fall. And if such be our resolutions, and such our practice, we may trust God to any extent we please; and he will either enable us to overcome, or make a way for our escape.

We must be watchful ev’ry hour, And pray, but never faint.

Matthew 6:13

Commentators generally have considered this, and the preceding clause, “lead us not into temptation,” as one, and the sixth petition of the Lord’s Prayer. Dr. Doddridge takes this view of the petition, which he paraphrases thus: “And do not bring us into circumstances of pressing temptation, lest our virtue should be vanquished, and our souls endangered by them: but, if we must be thus tried, do thou graciously rescue us from the power of the Evil One, that he may not triumph in our sin and ruin.” The word “evil,” in the original, has the article, and hence, has been supposed to refer to the Evil One, or Satan. In this view, the idea would be: Deliver us from the snares or temptations of the Evil One.

And, surely, considering the representations of Scripture of the power and malignity of Satan, we have need not only to watch with daily and hourly circumspection, but to pray constantly for the divine protection against this enemy of our peace. The terms in which he is spoken of in the Bible, evince the greatness of his power, and the extent and subtility of his influence. He is styled “the god of this world,”—the “prince of the power of the air,”—“a roaring lion,” — “the angel of the bottomless pit,” — “the great dragon,”—“the old serpent.” And he is said to “blind the minds of such as believe not;” “as working in the children of disobedience;” “as taking men captive at his will;” “as seeking whom he may devour;” “as deceiving the whole world.”

Against the wiles of such an adversary, we may well watch: we must constantly pray. He is not like an earthly enemy, whose approach may generally be seen; but he moves around, invisible to mortal eyes. And well does he know when the child of God has laid aside his armor; and when he is mingling in the gay and tempting world. He knows when, of a morning, he has not visited his closet, and has not there humbly sought the protection of his heavenly Father. And he is ever ready to take advantage of such a one; and of one, also, who may have strayed from the fold. The savage beast of the forest never pursues his prey with more determination; nor does the eagle ever dart upon the lamb of the fold with more delight than does Satan pursue and attack the unwary child of God.

Paul has a passage in his Epistle to the Ephesians, which confirms all we have said of the power and malignity of this arch enemy of believers: “Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For ye wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”

Ah! is the contest, then, not against “flesh and blood?” We elsewhere read, Flesh, ’tis a dangerous foe to grace; And this accords with other representations: “The flesh lusteth against the spirit;” “to be carnally minded is death “fleshly.lusts war against the soul.” But the apostle has truth, nevertheless, on his side. The children of God have carnal appetites and propensities, against which they are to wage a daily warfare; but the apostle would seem to represent, that, strong and violent as the conflict is with these, the Christian has more powerful and dangerous enemies, against whom to fight; so much more deadly, that he might, in truth, say: “Brethren, ye wrestle not against flesh and blood! mighty as these are, ye have other enemies mightier still!—ye wrestle with principalities and powers!” The great contest is with the invisible rulers of the darkness of this world. And who, in his observation and experience, has not found the truth of this? How many sad examples does the history of Christians furnish of those who have fallen—fallen through the power of Satan, working upon the lusts and propensities of the flesh! How many have had occasion to put on the whole armor of God—to breast themselves, with all the power of faith and grace, against the “fiery darts” of the wicked one! How many have wept very sore, and could not be comforted, because they have been cast down wounded! For a time, Satan has triumphed. They have yielded to his overwhelming power, or his seductive influence; and the consequence has been, that they have gone mourning for days and months.

Oh, we do need, as the apostle says, to be “strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might.” Nothing short of this, will enable us to stand against the wiles of the devil; nothing else will give us the victory. If this be so, then— My soul, be on thy guard!

Ten thousand foes arise! And hosts of sins are pressing hard, To draw thee from the skies!

Oh, watch, and fight, and pray! The battle ne’er give o’er;

Renew it boldly every day, And help divine implore.
Nor think the vict’ry won; Nor once at ease sit down;

Thy arduous task will not be done, Till thou hast got thy crown.

But, while we thus give prominence to the idea that Satan is our great adversary, and, as such, is the evil against which we are specially directed to pray, it cannot but be our duty and privilege to pray against sin. This is an evil which we should avoid; and against which we are to watch and pray at all times, and in all places, and in all forms. To avoid sin is, in fact, to triumph over the Evil One—that being the great object which he has in view, in all the arts and temptations which he practices upon the children of God. But there are sins, doubtless, which the Christian is liable to commit, independent of any agency or influence of the

Great Adversary. His lusts and appetites may war against the soul, when Satan is not present to inflame them; the world, in the happiness of its scenes, in the ambition of its pursuits, in the intoxication of its pleasures, may tempt and ensnare the heart, and draw it away from God.

Against such evils, we cannot watch too faithfully; we cannot pray too earnestly and constantly. Sin is the Dagon of the soul; it is the canker which is ever eating; it is this which paralyzes our spiritual strength, and destroys all our spiritual beauty; it is this which has introduced “death and all our woe into the world.”

Sin, like a venomous disease, Infects oar vital blood; The only balm is sovereign grace, And the physician, God.

Happy is it, if of this we are so sensible, as timely to secure the interposition of the great and almighty Physician in our behalf, to work grace within us, as a preventive against sin; or, if we have sinned, to deliver us from the evil consequences of it, through the atoning blood of Jesus. And this brings us to a brief consideration of another great blessing involved in this petition, namely: deliverance from the consequences of sin.

These are summed up in the word suffering. All men, even the pious, suffer in the present world, more or less, in consequence of sin. Against all suffering we may pray, in subordination to the will of God; or rather against any particular suffering: for, in order to be exempted from all suffering, it is probable that we “must needs go out of the world.” “Man is born unto trouble,” says Job, “as the sparks fly upward.” “In the world,” said our Savior to his disciples, “ye shall have tribulation.”

And, in truth, none, of all the sons of men, have been exempt from maladies, both of body and mind. And, while it is desirable to be delivered from that pain of body, and that agony of mind, which overwhelm and unfit the soul from improving under such distressing visitations of trouble; and, while we may strongly and earnestly pray for deliverance from them, it is not well, perhaps, to wish or to pray for deliverance from all trouble, nor from all suffering. Says Job: “Behold! Happy is the man whom God correcteth; therefore, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord.” “Blessed is the man,” says the Psalmist, “whom thou chastenest, O Lord.”—And, “Before I was afflicted, I went astray; but now have I kept thy word.” “Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous,” says an apostle; “nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby.” This is the experience of thousands. Afflictions are not desirable in themselves. But they are often, by the grace of God, far more beneficial than prosperity. Uninterrupted prosperity has seldom, if ever, brought men to glory: severe and long-protracted sufferings have done it in a multitude of instances. Let us, then, pray to be delivered from the evil of misimproving afflictions, rather than to be delivered from the trials themselves. Let us remember, for our comfort, the words of Inspiration: “Whom the Lord loveth, he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth;” or, what the divine poet has made a God of truth say:

Let not my children slight the stroke I, for chastisement, send; Nor faint beneath my kind rebuke, For I am still their friend. But there is one evil, against which we should pray by night and by day—the suffering for sin in the future world. But even that we may not pray against, excepting as we pray that we may become holy. Holiness is a condition of eternal life. God has established an eternal connection between sin and misery—between a life of wickedness here, and a life of suffering hereafter. No prayer for a disseverance of these can ever be answered: no one has a right so to mock God, as to pray for it. Nor is it desirable. Any different principle of procedure, on God’s part, would confound virtue and vice; would shock the moral sense of the holy universe; would shake the moral government of God to its very foundation.

Hence, then, he that would be delivered from final and eternal suffering, must forsake sin. Against this, as an evil in itself, and an everlasting evil in its consequences, we should pray—pray as solemnly, as fervently, as unceasingly as the evils are great and enduring, which we would avoid, and the opposite blessings are vast and incomprehensible, which we would secure.

Matthew 6:13 The authenticity of this doxology, or conclusion of the Lord’s Prayer, has been doubted by some eminent divines, for the reason that it is wanting in some ancient manuscripts. But, as Dr. Doddridge, and other excellent writers have observed, “it admirably suits and enforces every preceding petition.” Besides, it is in exact accordance with other portions of the sacred canon, about which there is no doubt. And, moreover, it is not certain that it was not uttered by the Savior: and, if so, it is a legitimate part of this excellent model of prayer. It well agrees with the blessing with which David blessed the Lord, before the congregation of

Israel: “Blessed be thou, Lord God of Israel, our Father, for ever and ever. Thine, O Lord, is the greatness, and the power, and the glory, and the victory, and the majesty, for all that is in the heaven and in the earth is thine: thine is the kingdom, O Lord, and thou art exalted as head above all.”

We have styled this a doxology. And, surely, ascription of praise may well be added to every prayer we offer; or rather constitute a part of it. Well may we rejoice that God reigns, and that “the kingdom, and the greatness of the kingdom, under the whole heaven,” is His. Well may we praise and thank him for those infinite and glorious attributes which constitute his character; for those blessings which daily flow forth from the inexhaustible treasures of his providence; for that grace which he has manifested, and will continue to manifest towards the guilty children of men.

Ascriptions of praise abound in the Scriptures. We are not surprised that they do abound. They are the natural out-pouring of the pious and grateful heart. In more than one instance, we find the Psalmist beginning with expressions the most sorrowful, and ending with praises the most joyful: “How long,” says he, “wilt thou forget me, O Lord? For ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me?” But, before he closes the psalm, his harp is taken from the willows, and we hear him singing joyfully: “My heart shall rejoice in thy salvation. I will sing unto the Lord, because he hath dealt bountifully with me.” Perhaps no one ever knew better how to praise than did the Psalmist. And who, of all the saints of the earlier dispensation, so abounded in this joyful exercise? Nor was it enough for him to praise God himself: he calls upon all intelligent beings to join in, with “sweet accord;” and even the brute creation, and various objects of nature, must help swell the chorus to the skies. The one hundred and forty-eighth psalm is a beautiful specimen of his skill in summoning the whole creation to unite in an anthem of praise to Jehovah. Every creature—angels — men—sun, moon, and stars—fire and hail—snow and vapor—mountains and hills—beasts and creeping things—all must so unite, and then:

Birds, ye mast make His praise your theme;

Nature demands a song from you:

While the dumb fish that cut the stream, Leap up, and mam his praises too. Did our limits permit, we might cite numerous examples of praise, drawn from the writings of the apostles, which would show how well both dispensations—the old and the new—agree, in inculcating and producing that love and gratitude in the heart, which must find expression in open praise to God. Indeed, in all periods of the world, there have been some, and, in some periods, many, who have delighted to exalt and praise God on the throne; and their songs, in not a few instances, have partaken much of the glowing zeal and rapture of those who sing before the throne above.

Great as our joy is, still greater should it be in view of the glories of the Infinite Jehovah! He dwells in light which is inaccessible. He pours forth the beams of his glory to the ends of the universe; and, though those displays have been from eternity, so bright and wide-spread, they will continue on for ever. Those fountains will never cease; those tides of glory will never ebb. God’s kingdom is an everlasting kingdom; and the subjects of that kingdom will continue to swell their anthems of praise when earthly temples—where they have sung sweetly, joyfully, rapturously— shall have crumbled to ruin. And who will not say for himself—

I’ll praise Him while he lends me breath; And when my voice is lost in death, Praise shall employ my nobler powers: My days of praise shall ne’er be past, While life, and thought, and being last, Or immortality endures. But this conclusion of the Lord’s Prayer is not only a doxology, but also a plea; and a plea founded upon the best of all bases, the glory of God. “It is connected with the prayer by the word ‘for’ to signify that all these things—the reign, power, and glory of God—will be manifested by granting these petitions. It is not because we are to be benefited, but that God’s name and perfections are to be manifested. His glory is, then, the first and principal thing which we are to seek when we approach him. We are to suffer our concerns to be sunk, and lost sight of in the superior glory and honor of his name and dominion. We are to seek temporal and eternal life, chiefly because the honor of our Maker will be promoted, and his name be more illustriously displayed to his creatures. He is to be ‘first, last, supremest, best,’ in our view; and all selfish and worldly views are to be absorbed in that one vast desire of the soul, that God may be ‘all in all.’” In such a spirit, and with such desires for the honor and glory of God, should we spread our prayers before him. And, if His glory be the paramount desire—the ruling passion of the soul—there is no danger that we shall urge our suit too strongly; and there need be no fear that we shall plead in vain.

God is jealous for his honor. His glory will he not give to another. His children may pray: they may plead for blessings for themselves, and for others, but it must be in subordination to the glory of God. That is a good reason why we should solicit favors from God: that we are in want; that we are in trouble; that we need pardon—sanctification—eternal life. But it is a better reason—the best of all reasons which we can name, or think of—that, by granting these blessings, God’s glory will be advanced. That glory is the sum of all good; the chief in value of all the desires which the human bosom can either conceive or cherish.

Never was a prayer offered to God, by a child of his, in any age or country, in vain, where a desire for the divine glory prompted that prayer; and where such desire was uppermost in the heart whence it proceeded. When we have attained to such a state of the heart, and the affections, as a permanent principle in our intercourse with heaven, we may hope, with some confidence, that we are nearly ready to participate in the song there sung: “Not unto us, O Lord! not unto us! but to thy name, be all the glory.”

O happy souls that pray Where God appoints to hear!

O happy men that pay Their constant service there!

They praise thee still; And happy they, That love the way To Zion’s hill.