063. The Duty Of Family Prayer.

The Duty Of Family Prayer.

Daniel 6:10. The tyrannical Nebuchadnezzar, and the sensual and impious Belshazzar are no more. The empire of Babylon has yielded to a foreign power. Darius, the Mede, occupies the throne. On his accession, Darius remodels the government, dividing the kingdom into one hundred and twenty provinces, over which he sets as many princes or governors. These were under the direction of three presidents, of whom Daniel was chief, or prime minister. This servant of God was now occupying a most responsible station. He was next to the king, by whom he was greatly honored. Fortunate if his administration shall escape the censure of the envious; fortunate if his enemies do not assail his political reputation, and deprive him both of his office and its honors. The attempt is made; but, it signally fails. Spies are employed to observe his management, and to discover, if possible, some one instance of maladministration. Daniel, however, proves himself honorable and loyal in all the duties of his station; nor can his enemies find whereof to accuse him to the king.

Thus foiled, his enemies might have contented themselves to suspend their acts of hostility. But their ill success seems to have increased their desire to secure his downfall. They next attack his religion. He was a worshiper of the true God, and a man of prayer. No law, at this time, existed among the Medes and Persians against religious liberty. Daniel, in common with others, was permitted to worship according to the dictates of his conscience. But Darius was susceptible to flattery, and might be overreached. Accordingly, under pretext of honoring him, a proposition was made to him, to prohibit any one asking a petition of any god or man, for thirty days, except of the king himself. Ignorant of the object of this decree, Darius entertained it, and it received the royal signet. This accomplished, the enemies of Daniel retire in triumph; their malicious purpose is being fulfilled. The doom of the minister is sealed. So they thought. The object of his enemies, and the decree which they had obtained, could not have been concealed from Daniel. He saw the precipice on which he stood; the dangers which lay before him. But trusting in God, his line of conduct was soon marked out. He had a duty to perform—a fair opportunity of honoring the God of his fathers—and to do these, he was ready to peril life, family, and fortune.

He had been in the practice of praying with his family, three times a day. This, the decree of Darius forbade. But, now, should he forego that duty? Should he honor man, or should he honor God? Whatever difficulties others might have found in answering these questions, they were easily answered by this servant of God. He would pray just where he had done—as often—and with his window open toward Jerusalem.

It is not important, to our purpose, to pursue the narrative in its details. Suffice it to say, that as Daniel honored God, so, in turn, God honors his servant. The decree of Darius must, indeed, take its course, and Daniel must be exposed to the rage of exasperated lions. But God could stop the mouths of those lions, and quell their rage, so that his servant should escape unharmed. At length, Daniel walks forth from the cavern where his enemies were rejoicing to believe that he had met a death, which would relieve them of one whom, while they admired, they feared and hated. Daniel occupies a still prouder position, while the doom intended for him becomes the doom of his foes.

We have here the example of a man of eminent talents, and of great distinction; a statesman honored by four of the proudest monarchs of ancient times, in favor of family worship. (Henry says, he prayed alone and in his family.) Most men, in his circumstances, occupying an exalted place among a heathen people, would have thought it their duty, if not to conform to the existing religion, not to give notoriety and distinction to religious practices directly at variance with it. Yet, we find this eminent man persevering in the maintenance of his religion, and the practice of the duties it enjoined. And now, when a direct and combined effort is made, through his religion, to undermine and destroy his authority, what does he do? Does he act the part of the sycophant? Does he attempt to conceal his sentiments or devotions? Nothing like it. He pursues the same course of life as usual, and honors God by the same acts of worship, without the least regard to the fear or favor of men.

What an example is here presented to our presidents; our statesmen; our judges; and others, occupying distinguished stations! It is, comparatively, easy to enter the sanctuary, and join in the homage there paid to Jehovah. But to erect and maintain an altar to him in the family, requires independence and sacrifice. Happily, a good portion of our men, in exalted stations, do thus honor God. It has been so from the beginning of our national existence. But too many neglect this important duty and exalted privilege; some, doubtless, from a supposed want of time; but others, it is to be feared, from an apprehension of the reproach and ridicule of worldly associates. They are lacking in that moral courage which so distinguished and adorned the pious statesman at the court of Darius. But the subject admits of a word of application; not only to men in place, but to all the neglecters of family worship. The number is large. To those who acknowledge the superintending providence of God, or who look at the reasonableness and happy influence of family worship, it is truly surprising that any head of a family should neglect it.

Some object, that there is no positive precept in the Scriptures, enjoining family worship. There is none. But, we ask, have the examples of holy men no authority in this case? The truth is, that the duty is a plain and reasonable one, without express injunction; nor can it be doubted that the pious, in all ages, have observed it. Abraham, Joshua, David, Job, Daniel, all worshiped God in the family, and our Savior confirmed the obligation; for he often prayed with his disciples, as his family or household.

But, aside from Scripture precept and example, which our limits will not allow us to urge, in this place, in all their force, let us, for a few moments, advert to other considerations, which we hope will have some influence upon those who are living in the neglect of what, we have no doubt, is a solemn duty, and certainly a most important and delightful privilege.

Let the master of a family cast his eyes round upon his circle of beloved children. What would your children become without a knowledge of the duties and obligations of religion? And where can that knowledge be so well obtained, or those obligations enforced, as in the family, and around the family altar? Surely, morning and evening prayer are eminently calculated to inspire them with a reverence for God, and their duty to honor, love, and obey him. There, too, the members of a family are drawn together in a service of the most tender and affectionate character. They are taught to love and confide in a Heavenly Father—taught to love and honor one another. Says Cecil, of family worship: “It may be used as an engine of vast power in a family. It diffuses a sympathy through the members. It calls the mind off from the deadening effects of worldly affairs. It arrests every member with a morning and evening sermon, in the midst of all the hurries and cares of life. It says: ‘There is a God!’ ‘There is a spiritual world!’ ‘There is a life to come!’ It fixes the idea of responsibility in the mind. It furnishes a tender and judicious father or master with an opportunity of gently glancing at faults, where a direct admonition might be inexpedient. It enables him to relieve the weight with which subordination or service sits on minds of inferiors.” But let us look a little farther. Your children must be supported and provided for. Who gives you health and strength to furnish this support? Whose rains water your crops? The light and warmth of whose sun ripens your wheat? And does not that great and kind Benefactor who presides over the elements, deserve your daily acknowledgment?—your daily supplication?

But, if provided for, who protects your family? You lie down at night.—Who saves you from the pestilence that walks in darkness and which, perhaps, is laying low the children of your neighbor? Who spares your habitation from the desolating tornado? Or, who makes another way for the forked lightning, so that it passes you unharmed?

You awake in the morning—how bright, beautiful, and glorious all nature is around you! The birds carol their morning hymn to their Preserver, from some branch which overspreads your habitation—shall you be dumb?

You separate for the day. You go forth, perhaps, to your labor in the field; to your shop; to the counting-room: your children go forth, perhaps, on excursions of pleasure and enjoyment; to the busy city, or on the treacherous water: Who shall preserve you all, and bring you back at evening, to the paternal fireside, safe, and laden with the experience of God’s goodness? Does it not seem right, and a privilege in the morning, to bespeak the presence and guardianship of that great and good Being, in whose hands our life is, and all our joys?

Or, perhaps, you separate some morning, for a longer period. Your sons are going forth to embark in business, in some distant part of the country, or in some foreign clime. Who shall protect them? Who shall save them from the thousand allurements to vice and crime with which they will meet in every city in which they sojourn; in every society in which they mingle? Who shall protect and solace in her loneliness—for she may be written widow, before you see her again—that beloved daughter, who goes forth from the altar, where she has plighted her vows, to ,some western region, or some still more distant eastern island? Would it not comfort your heart, in case of any contingencies like those I have supposed—that, while with you, you had daily conducted them to a throne of grace, and there sought for them, and with them, blessings which none but God can bestow, and which now they so much need?

Finally, friend, you and your children must one day die. You will meet them in another world, and at the bar of God. Should it then be found that, through your neglect of their precious and immortal souls, they are on the left hand of the Judge; should it be found that you had never gathered them to a family altar; never prayed for and with them; never supplicated a Father’s forgiveness and a Savior’s love; what will you then say? What excuse will you render to yourself, to them, to God? But remember that apologies, whatever they may be, will be in vain. You will have no opportunity to admonish them there; no privilege of supplicating the favor and mercy of God for them; no opportunity to retrieve what you have lost—to perform what you so foolishly neglected. The writer is aware of the objections which are often made by those who neglect this duty, and who forego this privilege. They have no time, or they have no confidence— no ability; and, more than all, they fear to subject themselves to the reproach and ridicule of the world. I shall not answer these objections. They have been met and answered a thousand times. They are poor apologies for the neglect of a service fraught with immortal benefit to immortal minds. I will only say, then, that if you have no time to pray, you will still find time to die; if you have no confidence now to ask the blessing of God in the presence of your family, what confidence will you have in asking his acceptance of you before an assembled universe? If the fear of ridicule so alarms you, that you dare to deny Christ before men, remember that he has given the solemn assurance, that he will deny you before his Father and the holy angels in heaven.