05. The Relation of Faith and Prayer

The Relation of Faith and Prayer

Apart from the Psalter, the Bible contains fewer prayers than we should be inclined to expect in a reli­gious literature of so great compass; and although the incidental allusions to prayer are numerous enough, the question forces itself upon us whether prayer—at least in the sense in which it is recommended by Paul— formed so vital and essential a part of practical religion as we are accustomed to suppose. Prayers are often absent where we should naturally expect them.

There is, of course, a view of the world to which prayer is impossible, if not absurd. It is stifled, for example, in such an atmosphere as that of Ecclesiastes. If one event happened to us all (Ecclesiastes 2:14), “to the righteous and to the wicked, to the clean and to the unclean, to him that sacrificeth and to him that sacrificeth not” (Ecclesiastes 9:2), what would be the meaning of prayer? Would the faith in such a blessed immortality as is anticipated in Psalms 73:24 not be a delusion, and was the baffled thinker who wrote Ecclesiastes not right when he refused to console himself with a beatific vision, but after the dust returned to the earth as it was and the breath to the God who gave it, pronounced his monotonous and melancholy verdict, “Vanity of vanities; all is vanity?” (Ecclesiastes 12:7-8) With such an outlook upon life prayer would lose most of its meaning, and we need not be surprised at its absence from such a book. But what is, at first sight, really surprising, is its absence on occasions where it would seem most natural and appropriate. Abraham offers no prayer of grati­tude when the angel voice delivers him from his fright­ful obligation to sacrifice his son (Genesis 22:13 f.). Jacob mourns, but he does not pray, when he learns of the calamity that had befallen Joseph (Genesis 37:34 f.); he faints for joy, but he does not pray, when he learns that that son is yet alive (Genesis 45:28). Joseph himself is a man of the most profound and beautiful piety, but there is no record of a single prayer. The reformations of Hezekiah and Josiah, though both were dictated by a sense of sin, were, so far as the records go, unaccompanied by prayer, even in the Chronicler’s account (2 Chronicles 29, 35), which is all the more remarkable, as he frequently embellishes his narratives with prayer. Much is said of sacrifice and music, but nothing of prayer. It is not mentioned in Romans 12:6-8, or in 1 Corinthians 12:28, among the gifts which distinguish the members of Christ’s body from one another, nor among the fruits of the spirit in Galatians 5:22 f. It is incidentally mentioned in Paul’s description of the Christian warrior, but not as part of his armor (Ephesians 6:18).

More remarkable still is the way in which prayer is ignored in the books which deal with the worship of the sanctuary and the duty of its ministers. There is no mention of it even in connection with the conse­cration of the priests (Exodus 40:13 ff,; Leviticus 8:12 ff., Leviticus 8:30 ff.) or the Levites (Numbers 8), or in connection with the offerings prescribed for the various festivals in Numbers 28 f. In a chapter which describes a service of peculiar solemnity, there is only the briefest allusion to it—“Aaron lifted up his hands toward the people and blessed them” (Leviticus 9:22) —and an equally brief allusion to the confession of sin in the imposing ceremonies connected with the great day of atonement (Leviticus 16:21).

Most of the casual references to the priests and Levites occur in connection with the sacrificial and musical arrangements of the temple—with the offering of burnt-offering, incense, thanks, and praise (1 Chronicles 16:4; 1 Chronicles 23:13; 1 Chronicles 23:30; 2 Chronicles 29:11; 2 Chronicles 31:2; Luke 1:9; Hebrews 8:3). The priests also exercised judicial functions (Deuteronomy 17:9; Deuteronomy 21:5; Ezekiel 44:14), and had the duty of teaching the people the ritual distinction “between the holy and the common, the clean and the unclean” (Ezekiel 44:23; Haggai 2:11-13). The casual allusions to thanks and praise no doubt give us a glimpse into a musical service which, judging by the musical superscriptions of the psalms, may have been tolerably elaborate; and, in one aspect, these hymns of thanksgiving may be regarded as prayers. In a description of such a service two lengthy fragments of Psalms 96 and Psalms 105 are incorporated (1 Chronicles 16:8-22 = Psalms 105:1-15; 1 Chronicles 16:23-33 = Psalms 96:1-13; 1 Chronicles 16:34-36 = Psalms 106:1; Psalms 106:47 f.). Nevertheless, it is striking that in the distinctively ritual books or sections (Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Ezekiel 40-48), there should be hardly any mention of prayer in the sense of petition. It would be absurd, of course, to infer from this silence that petitions were not offered in the temple worship. Sacrifice even in earlier times was accompanied by prayer (Genesis 12:8). In the calamity described by Joel, the priests are urged to pray Jehovah to spare His people (Joel 2:17), and what they did in a crisis they no doubt did, if with more formality, always. The fact that the priestly legislation deals all but exclusively with ceremonial goes a long way to explain its almost unbroken silence on prayer; still that silence cannot but be regarded as striking. In estimating, however, the frequent omission of references to prayer where they might naturally have been expected, the scantiness of our records should never be forgotten. Because, on a certain occasion, a prayer is not recorded, we have no right to infer that none was offered. No historian is bound to record everything; and the Bible historian, in particular, exercises sovereign liberty in his choice of what he shall record and omit. He often depicts the religious mood so graphically that the prayers which are un­recorded may be taken for granted. David refuses to curse Shimei, because “it may be that Jehovah will look on the wrong done unto me, and that Jehovah will requite me good for his cursing of me this day” (2 Samuel 16:12). Without doubt such a hope would express itself in prayer. So Jehovah-jireh, the name said to be given by Abraham to the place where he was delivered from his dilemma (Genesis 22:14), is an expression of faith which is almost equivalent to a prayer.

Often, again, where no prayer is expressly recorded, an incidental remark or a parallel passage raises a strong presumption that one was offered. In Leviticus 23:10 f. no mention is made of any prayer of gratitude in connection with the offering of the first fruits, but in Deuteronomy 26, on a similar occasion, not only does prayer accompany the offering but a definite prayer is prescribed. After the prayer (Deuteronomy 26:5-10) occur the words, “and thou shalt rejoice.” It would not be unnatural to infer from this that all the other numerous references to rejoicing at the festivals in the sanctuaries were accompanied by prayer, even though it is not explicitly mentioned.

Further, a stray word in the course of the narrative sometimes-suggests an unrecorded prayer. Important, for example as was the Jerusalem council Acts 15, there is no mention of prayer; but its presence is strongly suggested by the words, “It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us” (Acts 15:28). Again, though the heathen sailors in the Book of Jonah (Jonah 1:5) pray when over­taken by a storm, no prayer is ascribed to Paul during the storm which wrecked his ship; but when, in the night, he hears an angel saying to him, “Fear not, God hath granted thee all them that sail with thee,” (Acts 27:24) it is most natural to infer that the message comes in response to earnest prayer for himself and his company.

It is further to be remembered that the Hebrew, like the God he worshipped, revealed his inmost nature in deeds rather than in words: consequently we may find an act where we expect a prayer. The feast of booths, for example, according to the later view of its origin, recalled the deliverance of Israel from Egypt: it is the pictorial embodiment of gratitude (Leviticus 23:42-42). Another aspect of that deliverance is supposed to be com­memorated by the Passover. These and other festivals “remind” Israel (Deuteronomy 16:3, cf. Deuteronomy 16:12) of the ancient goodness of her God, and so, by the celebration, she keeps her gratitude fresh; she may also well have expressed it in the formal language of prayer, though none is recorded. Simi­larly, no formal prayer of thanksgiving is recorded when Israel crosses the Jordan, but memorial stones are erected (Joshua 4). The mood which dictates these memorials is the same as that which expresses itself in prayer. Indeed, it is perhaps more earnest and religiously valuable; for it expresses not only a momentary grati­tude, but also the deep determination to perpetuate the memory of the love of God. A living faith is bound to express itself. It may do so in words of prayer, but it is at least conceivable that it could do so in the general attitude and direction of the life, without formally expressing itself in language. This may partly explain the absence of prayer in the story of such a life as Joseph’s, and on other occasions where it would be natural. Of course we must never forget, as we have already said, how extremely meager our sources are and to what injustice and absurdity the argument from silence could lead in such a case. Still, the absence of all mention of prayer from the story of Joseph is somewhat remarkable. Occasions enough there were for it. For long he trod a path of sorrow. He was destitute, afflicted, tormented. It was through a hard discipline of misunderstanding, persecution, and imprisonment, that he reached his seat beside the king. Besides, he was a man of noble piety; yet it is never said that the prayed.

Such a life, we may suppose, must have expressed itself in prayer; but it is significant, at any rate for the stand­point of the historian, that he says nothing of it. In its place, however, is an overwhelming sense of the pres­ence and providence of God. “It is not in me,” says Joseph; “God shall give Pharaoh an answer of peace” (Genesis 41:16, cf. Genesis 41:28; Genesis 41:32). Joseph gives the answer (Genesis 41:25) at once without any recorded prayer for help, such as is sent up by Nehemiah (Nehemiah 2:4); but he recognizes here, as elsewhere (Genesis 40:8), that the answer comes to him from God, and Pharaoh himself admits this (Genesis 41:39). Joseph believes in a gracious providence, guiding both the past and the future. “It was not you that sent me to Egypt,” he says to his brothers, “but God” (Genesis 45:5; Genesis 45:7-8) “Ye meant evil against me, but God meant it for good,” (Genesis 50:20) and the God who has graciously guided my life “will surely visit you” (Genesis 50:24). The controlling power that the thought of God exer­cised over him receives its most brilliant illustration in his memorable answer to the woman who tempted him: “How can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?” (Genesis 39:9). Here is a man of the most splendid piety, but it is interwoven with his life. It is not—at least in the record—expressed in the formal language of prayer. With Joseph it is very interesting to compare the story of Daniel. In the later book, prayer and allusions to prayer are frequent. Daniel offers a prayer of grati­tude after the revelation of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream (Daniel 2:20-23), and an elaborate prayer of entreaty for the forgiveness and restoration of Jerusalem (Daniel 9:4-19). He requests his com­panions to pray that God would mercifully reveal the secret of the dream (Daniel 2:18): he himself prayed three times a day (Daniel 6:10), and there are other references to prayer in the book. Now this difference in the emphasis on prayer in the two narratives of Joseph and Daniel is all the more striking when we consider how very similar were the careers of the men. An element of romance attaches to both stories. Both are full of dreams and interpretations, the heroes of both were captives, and they both rose in the land of their captivity to positions of exceptional honor and influence. The one story comes from the ninth century B.C.,, and the other from the second. In this simple fact lies no doubt the real explanation of the difference in their attitude to prayer. The same great faith in God animates both narratives, but the one expresses itself in prayer and the other does not; and this, together with many other facts, leads to the conclusion that prayer shared in the development which characterized the religion generally. We cannot too often or too earnestly repeat that from silence we are not entitled to infer indifference; and yet the relative prominence of prayer in post-exilic as compared with pre-exilic litera­ture is no accident. The prayers are at once more numerous, more elaborate and more formal. This may be partly due to the need and desire of the Church to organize her religious life, but it is also due to a growing sense of the place of prayer in religion. Even more than to the compilation of history and prophecy must the exile have given the impulse to prayer. The men who were sinking in the horrible pit and the miry clay would cry to be set upon a rock. Sorrow would impart to prayer a seriousness it had never known before; and the exigencies of political and ecclesiastical life after the return would necessitate a more formal regula­tion of public worship than had hitherto been cus­tomary. The exile seriously affected both the spirit and the form of Hebrew prayer This could be abundantly proved by an examination of the Book of Chronicles. The Chronicler inserts prayers for which there is no warrant in Samuel and Kings, his principal sources, and a very slender pretext suffices him for such an insertion. Jehoshaphat, for example, cried out, when the charioteers turned upon him, mistaking him for the king of Israel; and Jehovah helped him (2 Chronicles 18:31). There the implication is that the cry is a prayer, but this presumption is not raised by the narrative in 1 Kings 22:32. When David built his altar upon Araunah’s threshing-floor and offered sacrifice (2 Samuel 24:25), the Chronicler adds, “and he called upon Jehovah, and He answered him from heaven by fire” (1 Chronicles 21:26). Doubtless the sacrifice was accompanied by prayer, but it is significant that the Chronicler should elaborate the point. The very beautiful prayer put into the mouth of David after the presentation of the free-will offering for the temple (1 Chronicles 29:10-19) has no support in the Book of Samuel and is altogether in the later style. Jehovah is directly addressed in almost every verse, twice in one verse (1 Chronicles 29:11), also as “our God,” (1 Chronicles 29:16) “my God,” (1 Chronicles 29:17) and more elaborately in the last appeal as “O Jehovah, the God of Abraham, of Isaac and of Israel” (1 Chronicles 29:18. The multiplication of addresses and titles is very com­mon, but not an invariable feature of later prayer; in Jehosha­phat’s prayer, 2 Chronicles 20, the Deity is addressed only three times, 2 Chronicles 20:6-7; 2 Chronicles 20:12). The tendency to multiply addresses is illustrated by David’s prayer in 1 Chronicles 21:17, where, in the middle of the prayer, “Let Thy hand, I pray Thee, be against me and against my father’s house,” 9 the Chronicler inserts “O Jehovah, my God.”

We have already dealt with the prayers which the Chronicler inserts before a battle (2 Chronicles 14:11; 2 Chronicles 20), and commented upon their occasional unreality. A Levite encourages the men of Judah before a battle with the words, “The battle is not yours, but God’s. Ye shall not need to fight. Set yourselves, stand still, and see the salvation of Jehovah.” (2 Chronicles 20:15; 2 Chronicles 20:17) This is completely out of touch with the world of reality, and altogether unlike the vivid battle scenes of the Judges or the Maccabees; but it goes to explain the exclusive emphasis on prayer, which a cloistered piety supposed was the only weapon needed in a fight. This pietistic and impossible view of war could not, of course, be shared by a practical man like Nehemiah, who, not content with prayer, first saw that his men were supplied with swords and spears and bows, and then addressed them with the words, “Don’t be afraid. Remember the Lord, and fight.” (Nehemiah 4:13 f.) The growing prominence of prayer is seen in the eagerness to compose prayers manifested by the Apo­crypha, with its Song of the Three Children, Prayer of Manasseh, etc. The latter prayer is peculiarly in­structive. The Book of Kings (2 Kings 21) has much to say of Manasseh’s wickedness, but nothing of his prayer. The Chronicler, however, relates that when he had been car­ried into exile by the king of Assyria, “he besought Jehovah his God and humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers. And he prayed unto Him, and He was entreated of him, and heard his supplication, and brought him again to Jerusalem into his king­dom” (2 Chronicles 33:12 f.). And, as if that were not enough, the prayer is subsequently twice mentioned in two consecutive verses (2 Chronicles 33:18-19). Indeed, it is said to be extant in one, if not two, already existing histories (2 Chronicles 33:18-19), and therefore pre­sumably a prayer purporting to be Manasseh’s was in circulation probably as early as 400 B.C.

How the later ages went to work we see in the Prayer of Manasseh, preserved in the Apocrypha, which is characteristic enough to be worth quoting. It begins by heaping up the attributes of God in the fashion of later Judaism:—

O Lord, Almighty God of our fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and of their righteous seed; who hast made heaven and earth with all the ornament thereof; who hast bound the sea by the word of Thy commandment; who hast shut up the deep and sealed it by Thy terrible and glorious name, etc.

Very different from the simple “Father” with which the prodigal son introduces his confession. But the confession itself, though somewhat diffuse, is beauti­ful:—

I have sinned above the number of the sands of the sea. My transgressions, O Lord, are multiplied; my transgressions are multiplied, and I am not worthy to behold and see the height of heaven for the multitude of mine iniquities. ... I have provoked Thy wrath, and done evil before Thee. I did not Thy will, neither kept I Thy com­mandments. I have set up abominations and have multiplied offences. Now, therefore, I bow the knee of mine heart, beseeching Thee of grace.

I have sinned, O Lord, I have sinned, and I acknowledge mine iniquities: wherefore I humbly beseech Thee, forgive me, O Lord, forgive me and destroy me not with mine iniquities. Be not angry with me for ever, by reserving evil for me; neither condemn me into the lower parts of the earth. For thou art the God, even the God of them that repent, and in me Thou wilt show all Thy goodness; for Thou wilt save me, that am un­worthy, according to Thy great mercy. There­fore I will praise Thee for ever all the days of my life: for all the powers of the heavens do praise Thee, and Thine is the glory for ever and ever. Amen. The half-theoretic, half-practical interest that con­tinued to gather even in New Testament times round the prayers of Old Testament worthies may be seen from James’s allusions to the prayers of Elijah, which he adduces as illustrating the efficacy of the prayers of a righteous man (James 5:17 f.). But the allusions to Elijah’s prayers for drought and rain are not supported by the Book of Kings, unless the posture in 1 Kings 18:42 is intended to indicate prayer for rain. Besides the three years of Kings have become three years and six months (Luke 4:25; James 5:17). In the time of James there may have been prayers of Elijah in existence, similar to the Apocry­phal prayer of Manasseh, or, at any rate, narratives expanded from the Book of Kings and illustrating the power of his prayer. In the light of all these facts it is very plain that prayer underwent development, and this, no doubt, accounts for its simplicity and comparative infrequency in the earlier records of the Old Testament. But it is also possible that faith did not always express itself in prayer. It is by no means inconceivable, though it would hardly be normal, that faith should take the form of a steady confidence to which prayer would be superfluous. The God whose goodness was so mani­fest in the past, is the same yesterday, today, and for­ever; and that goodness could be trusted without being entreated. The constancy of the Divine love and law, as proved by history, is a great fact, in which men of a certain religious temperament will quietly and confidently rest.

“Rejoice and remember” (Deuteronomy 16:11 f.): that is the motto of the Hebrew festivals. “Beware lest thou forget Jehovah, who brought thee forth out of the land of Egypt” (Deuteronomy 6:12). The people rekindled their faith in Jehovah by rehearsing His righteous acts (Judges 5:11), that is, the deeds by which He had vindicated them against their enemies. This appeal to the past is one of the most characteristic things of the Old Testament. Inspiration often seems to come rather from memory than from prayer. The thought of the past and the Divine goodness which crowded it, strengthened in the present crisis and nerved for the future; for what God had been He would ever prove Himself to be to the souls that trusted Him. The mood in which, according to the late story, David approaches Goliath, is a thor­oughly religious mood: “Thou comest to me with the sword, but I come to thee in the name of Jehovah” (1 Samuel 17:45-47). But David does not pray. He says: “Jehovah that delivered me out of the paw of the lion and out of the paw of the bear, He will deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine” (1 Samuel 17:37). There is no recorded prayer, but there is a steady confidence, determined by past ex­periences of God’s goodness. The Hebrew people had an altogether unique sense of the presence of God. “What great nation is there that hath a God so nigh unto them as Jehovah our God is, whenever we call upon Him?” (Deuteronomy 4:7) and the later poets felt that, not only when in the definite attitude of prayer, but uninterruptedly and persistently, He be­set them behind and before (Psalms 139). Heaven was not far from any one of them. Its doors were open wide; and, without knocking, they could go in and walk about as men who were at home. Thus it comes that many of the Psalms, though they take the form of speech to God, are almost more meditation than prayer. Their writers are so sure of God and so satisfied with Him that they are content to rest in Him without assail­ing Him with petition. The one hundred and thirty- ninth Psalm, with the exception of the last two verses, expresses communion without request. In the twenty- third Psalm, the writer does not pray that the Lord be his shepherd, to lead him beside the waters of rest, and guide him through the valley of the deep shadow. He knows that the Lord has been this to him already, and he is sure that He will continue to be this to the end. The Psalm is not a prayer, but a confession of faith. This accounts for the rapid transitions of the Psalter—as in this very (Psalm—from the third person to the second, and vice versa: “He restoreth my soul: Thou art with me.” They are not due to inattention. They are due to the fact that to the Psalmists God was the ever-present fact. Whether they prayed to Him or thought of Him, He was ever with them, as real to them in meditation as in petition. The motto of the Bible is “Immanuel,” that is, “with us is God.” Whatever else may totter or disappear, He abides; and His mercy endureth for ever. Amid life’s innumerable uncertainties He is the great certainty, therefore it is wisdom to “rely on Jehovah thy God, so shalt thou be established” (2 Chronicles 20:20; 2 Chronicles 16:7; Isaiah 8:9). By the man of faith every issue may be faced with confi­dence, for he knows that God doeth all things well. Nehemiah advances to the task of building the walls of Jerusalem, sure that the God of heaven will prosper him (Nehemiah 2:20), and the three Hebrews face the furnace not with any spoken prayer, but in the confidence that God will deliver them from it (Daniel 3:17).

Prayer is an attitude as well as a practice. It is the sense—at once cleansing and inspiring—that “my times are in Thy hand” (Psalms 31:15). And, if the spoken prayers of the Bible are not so numerous as we might have anticipated, all the more abundantly clear is the steadfastness with which the true Hebrew life was rooted in God and set towards God. This attitude is known in the Old Testament as “the fear of Jehovah.” It is this that keeps Joseph pure in the hour of tempta­tion, and that preserves Nehemiah from taking dis­honorable advantage of his official position (Nehemiah 5:15). This fear is the basis of all wisdom (Proverbs 9:10), the condition of all true success, and the guarantee of inward peace. When thou liest down, thou shalt not be afraid, Yea, thou shalt lie down, and thy sleep shall be sweet (Proverbs 3:24) . In peace will I both lay me down and sleep (Psalms 4:8). The practical effect of this controlling fear of God is to drive out the fear of man. The number and variety of occasions on which men hear a Divine voice saying, “Fear not,” makes a very interesting study (Joshua 8:1; Joshua 10:8; Joshua 11:6; Isaiah 41:10; Isaiah 41:13-14; Isaiah 44:2; Isaiah 44:8; Jeremiah 1:7; Jeremiah 30:10 f; Lamentations 3:57; Ezekiel 2:6; Daniel 10:19; Joel 2:21; Zephaniah 3:16; Zechariah 8:15; Matthew 10:26; Matthew 17:7; Matthew 28:5; Mark 6:50; Luke 1:13; Luke 1:30; Luke 2:10; Luke 5:10; Luke 12:4; Luke 12:7; Luke 12:32; Acts 18:9; Acts 23:11; Acts 27:24; Revelation 1:17.) “Fear not, for I am with thee”: and the human response is:—

Jehovah is on my side, I will not fear;

What can man do unto me? (Psalms 108:6)

How this fearlessness which issues from the fear of God, and sometimes more particularly from the con­sciousness of a Divine call, affects practical life may be strikingly seen in Amos’s brave answer to the insinua­tions of the courtier-priest Amaziah (Amos 7:12-17). But if “Fear not” means much in the Old Testament, how much more does it mean in the New, after the “good news” has found eternal expression in the words and in the life of Jesus! “Be of good cheer. It is I, be not afraid.” This superiority to all fear rests in the last resort on the recognition of God as Father; for we have received the spirit, not of bondservants unto fear, but of sons (Romans 8:15; Galatians 4:6).

“Be not anxious.” This is one of the great watch­words of Jesus. Be not anxious for food or drink or raiment (Matthew 6:25; Luke 12:22), be not anxious for the morrow (Matthew 6:34), be not anxious when, for My sake, ye are brought before tribunals (Matthew 10:19; Luke 12:11). Depend upon the love of God. But the whole teaching and practice of Jesus go to show, not only that that immovable confidence in God which we call faith is thoroughly compatible with prayer, but that it demands it as its natural and necessary expression. “Your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask Him. Nevertheless after this manner pray ye” (Matthew 6:8-9). Quite in the spirit of the Master, Paul says, “In nothing be anxious, but let your requests be made known” (Php 4:6). So James (James 1:6) “Let him ask in faith.” A prayerless believer would be no less of a monstrosity than a child who never spoke to his father. According to one account, the disciples were unable to cure the epileptic boy, because of their little faith (Matthew 17:19-20); according to another (Mark 9:29), it is implied that they failed through lack of prayer. Faith and prayer are correlate: their interrelation is suggested by the phrase “in prayer believing” (Matthew 21:22). Faith is the inspiration of prayer, as prayer is one expression of faith. The twelve, it is said, resolved to continue “in prayer and in the ministry of the word” (Acts 6:4). The prayer was the fountain of the ministry, co-ordinate in importance with preaching and the source of its power. The whole practice of the New Testament and the implications of the Old justify the remark of a French writer that “the ideal of the Christian life is a perpetual communion with God, sustained by prayer as frequent as possible.” Who is then the God to whom the men of the Bible pray? He is spirit, invisible (Deuteronomy 4:12) and absolute: there is none beside Him (Deuteronomy 4:35). He is in heaven above and upon earth beneath, there is none else (Deuteronomy 4:39). He is unlike man (Hosea 11:9), yet He is like him. He is not a force, but a Person. He has the pity of a father (Psalms 103:13; Deuteronomy 1:31). Yet He is infinitely kinder than the kindest of fathers; for, if earthly fathers give gifts to their children, how much more will the heavenly Father give gifts to His! (Matthew 7:11) He will listen to the cry of poor men whose wages have been withheld; and He can not only listen, but help. All nature is His (Exodus 8-10), so that His arm can never wax short (Numbers 11:23; Isaiah 59:1).

He is so great that the heaven of heavens cannot contain Him (1 Kings 8:27), and He sits above the centuries (Lamentations 5:19; Psalms 102:26; Daniel 6:26). He is the King of kings, and Lord of lords, dwelling in light inaccessible, whom no man hath seen or can see (1 Timothy 6:15 f.). Yet He is not remote from the world. He is the Life of men, and the Lord of history. His eyes run to and fro throughout the whole earth (2 Chronicles 16:9). He sees in secret (Matthew 6:6) and searches the hearts of men (1 Kings 8:39; 1 Chronicles 28:9; Luke 6:15; Acts 1:24.). But more marvelous than His power or His wisdom is His love. The central message of the Bible is that He “is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abundant in loving-kindness and truth,” (Exodus 34:6; Deuteronomy 4:31; Nehemiah 9:17; Psalms 86:15; Psalms 103:8; Psalms 145:8.) and it is this that makes prayer worth while. To Him belong mercies and forgiveness (Daniel 9:9), and whosoever comes to Him in penitence and sincerity will be in no wise cast out. With such a God, then—one who is not imprisoned within the walls of the world which His own fingers framed, nor indifferent to the men who live and move upon it, but Himself like unto a man, with an ear open to the cry of men, and a love that goes out with the strength of omnipotence to those “that are broken in their heart and grieved in their mind” —with such a God prayer becomes a necessity and an inspiration.

O Thou that hearest prayer, All flesh shall come to Thee (Psalms 65:2).

—not only all the tribes of men, but all that can call itself flesh, all that is conscious of its weakness. The attitude of the worshipper and the character of the God whom he addressed in prayer may also be appropriately studied in the names by which He is called, and the epithets by which He is described. As a rule, the mode of address is the very essence of simplicity. Sometimes it is simply “O God” (Numbers 12:13). A personal touch is given to the name in the address “my God,” which seems to have been a favorite with Nehemiah (Cf. Nehemiah 5:19). This is amplified in the Korahitic psalms to “My King and my God” (Psalms 64:4). Here the “my” may be collective rather than individual, but the practical difference is not great. As Israel’s God is Jehovah, this name naturally occurs with very great frequency in prayer; and even in prayers of great intensity, these simple names, God and Jehovah, unadorned by any epithet, are felt to be enough. There is no more passionate prayer in the Old Testament than Isaiah 63:7 to Isaiah 64:12, yet throughout the mode of address is simply “O Jeho­vah.” So usually in the Book of Lamentations. But Jehovah’s special relation to Israel and the fathers of the Hebrew people is frequently emphasized in the address. Jacob, for example, prays to the “God of my father Abraham and the God of my father Isaac,” (Genesis 32:9) and Elijah to the “God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel” (1 Kings 18:36. This feature is peculiarly common in the later prayers, and served to remind the worshippers of the continuity of their national history, and of the gracious links that bound them to the great men of the past.

Jehovah is therefore addressed as the “God of our fathers,” (2 Chronicles 20:6; cf. Daniel 2:23) or the “God of Israel” (Ezra 9:15) our father (1 Chronicles 29:10), or as the “God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel our fathers (1 Chronicles 29:19);” but it is worthy of note that in these very prayers which emphasize the national aspect of worship and the presence of God in the days of old, the wor­shippers also—and almost in the same breath—address God as “our God,” (1 Chronicles 29:16; 2 Chronicles 20:7; 2 Chronicles 20:12; Ezra 9:10; Ezra 9:13. Daniel 10:1) and even as “my God.” (1 Chronicles 29:17; Ezra 9:6; Daniel 9:18.) The address “my God” seems to be peculiarly charac­teristic of post-exilic prayer. In pre-exilic times, the individual’s right to approach Jehovah was conditioned by his membership in Israel, the people of Jehovah; he could not so easily have thought of him­self as having an indefeasible and unmediated right of his own to approach Jehovah and call Him “my God” (1 Kings 3:7 is probably affected by the redaction) Jehovah was the God of Israel, rather than his God. But, speaking broadly, religious in­dividualism was born with Jeremiah. Jehovah is to him no more only the God of Israel, but “my strength and my stronghold and my refuge in the day of afflic­tion” (Jeremiah 16:19). Post-exilic Israel felt itself to be a religious unit as much as pre-exilic Israel had ever done, but the collective aspect of religious life was now accom­panied by an individualism which had never been possible, in the same measure, before. The lesson burned by his fiery experiences into the soul of Jere­miah was written by him indelibly upon the religion of Israel; and the worshippers who still addressed Jehovah as the God of Israel could address Him with equal ease and sincerity as our God and my God. The term “Jehovah” suggests intimate historical relations with Israel, and consequently usually carries an atmosphere of grace about it, whereas “Lord” suggests possession and power (To appreciate this distinction in “Lord”, the English reader must use the American Revised Version. In the other English versions, the Hebrew word for Jehovah is nearly always erroneously re­presented by the word Lord.). The combination therefore “O Lord Jehovah” is a peculiarly im­pressive one, and usually occurs in prayers of especial earnestness, whether of intercession or entreaty. It is found, for example, in Moses’ prayer to be permitted to enter the promised land (Deuteronomy 3:24), and in his intercession for the guilty people (Deuteronomy 9:26), in Joshua’s prayer after Israel’s defeat at Ai (Joshua 7:7), in Samson’s dying prayer for strength (Judges 16:28), repeatedly in David’s prayer of gratitude for the brilliant future foretold for his kingdom by Nathan (2 Samuel 7:18-29, in Amos’ intercession for guilty Israel (Amos 7:2-5), and in two similar intercessions of Ezekiel (Ezekiel 9:8; Ezekiel 11:13, cf. Jeremiah 4:10). The effect of the term Lord is heightened where it stands alone unaccompanied by Jehovah, and such con­texts are always worthy of special consideration. God is addressed as Lord, for example, throughout Abra­ham’s intercession for Sodom (Genesis 18:23-32), and Daniel’s intercession for Jerusalem (Daniel 9:4-19. “Jehovah” occurs in the course of the prayer, Daniel 9:10; Daniel 9:14, but not as a direct address. Very instructive is the introduction: “I prayed unto Jehovah my God”—that is narrative—“and made confession, and said, O Lord.”), and in the remonstrances of Moses (Exodus 4:10; Exodus 4:13; Exodus 5:22).

It is possible that Jehovah was directly addressed by the Hebrews as Father oftener than the records of the Old Testament would lead us to suppose. Israel was Jehovah’s son (Exodus 4:22), and it would be natural for, Israel to acknowledge Jehovah as Father. Indeed this is actually done twice in one prayer (Isaiah 63:16; Isaiah 64:8; cf. Malachi 2:10), and Jere­miah represents Israel in her distress appealing directly to her God as “my Father” (Exodus 4:22).

Attributes are not common in the earlier prayers: the name of God was held to be sufficient. Epithets and adjectival clauses are usually a sign of lateness. Jeremiah addresses God as “Jehovah of hosts, who judgest righteously, and triest the heart and the mind,” (Jeremiah 11:20) and this style of address is greatly developed in post-exilic times. Nehemiah (Nehemiah 1:5), for example, begins a prayer thus: “I beseech Thee, O Jehovah, the God of heaven, the great and terrible God, that keepeth covenant and loving-kindness with them that love Him and keep His commandments.” This seems to have been a favorite mode of address (Nehemiah 9:32; Daniel 9:4). He is also the “God of the spirits of all flesh.” (Numbers 16:22) In an imprecatory Psalm (Psalms 94:1), He is addressed as the “God of vengeance,” and once He is called “Jehovah the good” (2 Chronicles 30:18). From all this we may infer that the God addressed by the later Hebrews was felt, in the moment of prayer, to be at once the God of the national[1] and the in­dividual life, of the past and of the present, of the existing church as a whole, and of each of the members of which that church was composed—Israel’s God and our God and my God. He is Lord, but He is also Jehovah: great and terrible, but also just and faith­ful; Sovereign, but also Father; and indeed—in spirit, if not in name—Father most of all.

[1]Of course it must not be forgotten that most of the extant prayers of later times are public prayers. The private prayers of Nehemiah are usually addressed to “my God” without any specific allusion to the God of Israel. Cf. even in the narrative “my God”Nehemiah 7:5. But his work was essentially a national work, and he would naturally commit it and himself to the tutelage of the national God; cf.ourGod,Nehemiah 4:4;Nehemiah 4:9;Nehemiah 6:16; and the long opening prayer of the book is addressed substantially, though not formally, to the God of Israel,Nehemiah 1:5—11) In the New Testament, with one remarkable ex­ception, there is little that is really new in the mode of address to God; but the difference—which is pro­found—between the two Testaments, lies in a change of emphasis. There He was often God, seldom Father; here He is usually Father, and seldom God alone. In the Apocalypse, which is intensely Jewish, echoes of the Old Testament are unmistakable. He is the Lord God, the Almighty (Revelation 4:8; Revelation 16:7). He is the Despotes—a difficult word to translate (Revelation 6:10),—but significant and occurring also in the prayer of Simeon (Luke 2:29). Elsewhere He is the King eternal, immortal, invisible (1 Timothy 1:17). There is, in some quarters, the same tendency towards the use of epithets betrayed by the later books of the Old Testa­ment; for example, “O Lord who knowest the hearts (One word in the Greek) of all men” (Acts 1:24)—perhaps a customary epithet, or it may have been a favorite phrase of Peter’s (Cf. Acts 15:8). Sometimes the epithets seem to be otiose; as in the prayer for boldness in preaching, which begins: “O Lord, Thou that didst make the heavens and the earth and the sea and all that in them is” (Acts 4:24) Such a phrase, which also seems to have been a favorite (Cf. Acts 14:15), may have formed part of the general vocabulary of prayer and preaching. A frequent address of Paul’s seems to have been “my God” (Cf. Php 1:3) —which recalls the practice of Nehemiah. But that which is new, not in fact, but in emphasis, is the use of the word Father; and this is directly due to Jesus. His own prayers are addressed to God simply as Father: not our Father, or my Father (“My Father” in Gethsemane, according to Matthew 26:39; Matthew 26:42), but Father. Probably this simple address was seldom amplified; but, in moments of more than usual exalta­tion, the title is expanded by an adjective or a clause. The unique prayer in Matthew 11:25 begins, “O Father, Lord of heaven and earth” and in the high-priestly prayer of John 17. He calls God holy (John 17:11) and righteous (John 17:25) Father, as well as Father (John 17:1; John 17:5; John 17:21; John 17:24). The atmo­sphere of Fatherhood hangs about most of the New Testament prayers. God is addressed as the Father of mercies (2 Corinthians 1:3); and He may also have been addressed as the Father of spirits (Hebrews 12:9. Cf. Numbers 16:22) and the Father of lights (James 1:17), though it happens that these words occur not in prayer, but in narrative. The exception, to which allusion was made above, is the address—so familiar in the epistles of Paul— to the “God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (2 Corinthians 1:3). It may be considered to have a remote parallel in the Old Testament addresses to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, at least in so far as it contemplates God in relation to a historical personality; yet it is something widely different and deeper. It is a subtle reminiscence of Jesus’ own method of prayer; was it not He pre-eminently who had called God Father? It is further a most remarkable tribute to His unique­ness that Paul calls Him the Father of Jesus. It suggests that his new relation to God, which involved nothing less than a spiritual revolution, had been created and mediated by Jesus. It suggests the infinite obligation of him and of all men to Jesus. Prayer is now surer of itself than ever it could have been before, because it is prayer to the Father of Jesus.