May 6

MAY 6.—“And he said unto them, Which of you shall have a friend, and shall go unto him at midnight, and say unto him, Friend, lend me three loaves: for a friend of mine in his journey is come to me, and I have nothing to set before him? And he from within shall answer and say, Trouble me not: the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot rise and give thee. I say unto you, Though he will not rise and give him because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him as many as he needeth. And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.”—Luke 11:5—10.

NEVER man spake like this man. He taught as one having authority, but not as the Scribes. This applies to the manner as well as the subject of his preaching. He had nothing of official parade and unfeeling severity; but was gentle and affectionate, and came down as the rain on the mown grass. One thing cannot be overlooked—it was the easy and familiar mode in which he delivered the most important doctrine. Here were no dry definitions, no logical subtleties, no abstract reasonings, no lengthened argumentations, no abstruse allusions, parading the erudition of the speaker, but darkening counsel with words without knowledge to the multitude—In his ministry the poor had the gospel; the common people heard him gladly. He commended himself to every man’s conscience, by a simple manifestation of the truth; and always reached the heart by appeals the most touching and tender, and by images the most natural, conclusive, and interesting. I have read treatises on repentance, but I never derived half the instruction and impression from them all that I have found in the parable of the Prodigal Son. We have had lectures on humility. But when his disciples were disputing for pre-eminence in his empire, “He called a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them, and said, Verily I say unto you, except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever, therefore, shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Here he is teaching them to pray—but while he informs he excites and encourages. He argues from the less to the greater, and makes the contrast conduce to his aim as well as the comparison. A man indisposed to the thing itself, and even complaining of the application, may grant a request to importunity—How much more may we hope to succeed with God, whose goodness like his power is infinite!

But O the execution that is done in the filling up of the representation! It intimates, first, that in prayer we may go to God in the character of “a friend.” And how pleasing and inviting is it to view the Supreme Being as standing in such a relation to us, and to know that we have not only a real but a perfect, yea, a divine friend, who is nigh unto us in all that we call upon him for. Secondly, that we may come to him at any season, even though it be “at midnight.” He never slumbers or sleeps; never complains of surprise or interruption. We are allowed, we are commanded to pray without ceasing. David says, “Morning, and evening, and at noon, will I pray and cry aloud;” and “at midnight I will rise and give thanks unto thee, because of thy righteous judgments.” Never wait for a more convenient or favourable period—go to him immediately—in the