138. The Prayer Of Dives.

The Prayer Of Dives. The Prayer as recorded.—Luke 16:22-26.

Continuation of Dives’Prayer.—Luke 16:27-28. The Answer.—Luke 16:31. The following prayer is a wail of agony from the depth of that hell to which all the impenitent are destined; the day of mercy with that soul is over, and the time for prayer to God passed away forever. Through the long ages of a “limitless future” will that Avail come up deeper and louder to tell of the agony of a ruined soul. Our Savior in his teachings to the multitude has introduced this parable of the rich and poor man, which, in its grand outlines, is being continually acted out under the eye of even the most careless observer at the present time. The earthly and spiritual condition of the two men are forcibly delineated, and the final result is given to show us the destiny of all who must come under either one of the classes these two men so strikingly represent. We shall be particular in our notice of this prayer, hoping we may, by our plainness of speech, arrest the eye of the mere worldling. He who makes it, it will be observed, is not guilty of the grosser vices; his were sins we may call “popular sins,” fashionable among those whom the world worships, and whose favor many are so earnestly seeking. The rich man was of the stock of Abraham, a Jew, and we may infer had a form of godliness also. He fared sumptuously—all that wealth could bring in the way of luxury was his; but these were not enumerated as sins, he might have had all these and been a devoted child of God.

We cannot think him a miser, for his table was sumptuous, and no doubt he entertained those who were congenial to him; but we may infer safely they were not the lowly followers of Christ, or Lazarus would not have been despised. Me- thinks I hear some reader ask, What, then, was this man’s sin? And to such we would reply, In not using his wealth to the glory of God—he had forgotten the poor and the sick, the miserable and dying beggar. Grace was a stranger to his heart; that grace which brings with it a tenderness of spirit that enables its possessor to feel that earth’s poorest and most miserable children are brethren; that will not permit him to hear one sigh of the distressed without relieving it, and will keep ever in his hand “the cup of cold water” which he, as a Christian, dare not or will not withhold. There are many, dear reader, who are living as this rich man lived, many who can weep over imaginary woe, but never see the real misery which they may lighten; many of our own loved friends whose hearts beat quicker when told of this or that scene of sorrow, but who will not go with you to the midst of it; there is many a poor beggar lying at their gates, whom they are despising and sending empty away. God forbid you should ever be brought to the misery of Dives! Ere the echo of his sorrowing wail dies away on your ear, be warned of your own danger.

I tell you of it in the voice of Christian love, the gay and worldly are singing to your listening ears a sweet song that is lulling you into a dangerous sleep, and no word of condemnation comes from the world about you to show you your condition; you are not desolate and forsaken, for “the rich have many friends,” yet the few chosen of God’s children are asking you to go with them; they are praying for you, and beseeching you to save yourself from the fate of Dives. This prayer, and indeed the whole parable, is figurative, and “Abraham’s bosom,” according to Scott, means a place near that “father of the faithful,” that occupied by the beggar, and is intended to shadow forth the joy of the believing soul after death; the position of the rich man exhibits a vivid picture of the misery of the lost. The latter part of the narrative furnishes the true Christian with a powerful argument against those false doctrines which the holy word predicts shall deceive the very elect; it tells the tormented spirit “one shall not rise from the dead to minister to his brethren in holy things.”

God has his own shining hosts to camp about the good man’s tent, but they are not the souls of those who have entered the pit of despair. Angels form a quiet ministry to those who are the heirs of salvation; how, or when, or where, it is not given to man to know, for they belong to the army of God, who does his own will among the shining troops before his everlasting throne; his ways are not our ways, neither are his thoughts our thoughts. We know his children are guarded and watched while they are lingering near his mercy-seat. We have Moses and the prophets, the voice of justice and of tender compassion; we have the warnings of earthly friends, and a vivid picture of the eternally happy and eternally miserable; and is not this enough? God in his answer would and does say, enough!