04. The Themes of Prayer
The Themes of Prayer
If proof were wanted that the religion of Israel underwent development, it could be secured in abundance from an examination of the prayers of the Bible. Not that the later prayers are universally finer or profounder than the earlier; prayers for vengeance, for example, are among the latest as well as the earliest in the Bible. But, generally speaking, there is an advance from the material to the spiritual. In the earlier times, God was seen only, or at least most clearly, in His gifts. Men longed for them, partly because in them they found Him. But in course of time they learned to love Him apart from them, and, even without them, to be content with Him. The descendants of the men who had prayed for abundance of corn and wine and oil learned to pray for the nearer presence of God and for the spread of the gospel of Christ.
We shall consider, first, the petitions of the Bible. More or less throughout the Old Testament, but especially throughout the earlier period, they gather round things material. Food, drink, and raiment—after these things the Gentiles seek, said Jesus; and the same might have been said of the average Hebrew. A perusal of Deuteronomy 28 or Leviticus 26 illustrates the things which even to the later Hebrews constituted a blessing and a curse, and there is much truth in Bacon’s aphorism that “prosperity is the blessing of the Old Testament.” “The dew of heaven, the fatness of the earth, and plenty of com and wine” —these words of an ancient blessing (Genesis 27:28) find an echo very late in Hebrew religion. “Thy great goodness” to which Ezra refers in his prayer of confession was represented by “a fat land, houses full of all good things, cisterns hewn out, vineyards and olive-yards, and fruit trees in abundance” (Nehemiah 9:25). In the prayer associated in 1 Kings 8. with the dedication of the temple by Solomon, petitions are offered for deliverance from pestilence, famine, drought, siege, exile, but not for spiritual things as we understand them; though it is only fair to note that these prayers are to be offered in a spirit of true penitence—the worshippers are to turn to their God “with all their heart and with all their soul” (1 Kings 8:48) — and in a sense they are prayers for forgiveness. A later writer prays indeed that he may have neither poverty nor riches, but only such food as was needful for him (Proverbs 30:8); but, broadly speaking, the object of petition and the ideal of blessing is “the fruit of the body and the fruit of the ground, grain and wine and oil, increase of cattle, victory over enemies and immunity from sickness” (Deuteronomy 7:13-16). And as a land without people is worthless, the blessing which is entreated and promised takes the form of an increase of numbers in the family, the tribe, or the nation (Genesis 28:3; Deuteronomy 1:11; Deuteronomy 13:17); so that to “bless” practically means to “multiply” (Genesis 1:22; Genesis 28:3). This was very natural to a people whose existence and prosperity were being continually menaced by foes on the right hand and on the left. The more numerous were the defenders of the city, the more confidently could they speak with their enemies in the gate (Psalms 127:5). Thus prayers for children are of very frequent occurrence: they are offered sometimes by the man (Genesis 25:21), sometimes by the woman (Genesis 30:17; 1 Samuel 1:11), and invariably by those who wish a family well (Ruth 4:11). There is a beautiful prayer of a father for guidance in the training of his yet unborn child (Judges 13:8, cf. Judges 5:14), though the context suggests that the prayer has in view material rather than spiritual things. Riches, honor, and long life were no doubt the theme of many a petition (1 Kings 3:13); and a somewhat sinister light is cast upon the possibilities of early Hebrew prayer by the circumstance that even the life of one’s enemies is conceived as a possible object of petition (1 Kings 3:11).
Petition might be negative as well as positive: it might express the desire of the heart for certain gifts or the desire to be delivered from certain evils or dangers. It is most of all when men’s souls faint within them that they remember and cry to Jehovah (Jonah 2:7). The conscience-smitten Jacob, on the eve of facing the brother whom he had wronged, prays earnestly that God may deliver him from his hand (Genesis 32:11). So Hezekiah, in mortal terror of the Assyrians, who “have laid waste the nations and their lands,” prays the God of Israel to save him from the hand of Sennacherib (2 Kings 19:19). Jeremiah reproaches his contemporaries with worshipping stocks and stones, and turning their back upon the living God; “but in the time of their trouble they will say, ‘ Arise and save us’” (Jeremiah 2:27).
“Save us.” This might be said to be the most characteristic prayer of the Bible; but, in the Old Testament, the deliverance besought is not usually from sin, but from enemies of a more tangible sort. The Psalter is haunted by the cruel faces of scheming men, and it is from them that the psalmists pray for deliverance. Then, as ever, distress drove men to God. “Is any suffering, let him pray” (James 5:13). When tender women, maddened by hunger, were eating the bodies of the children they loved (Lamentations 2:20); when Zion had become a wilderness and Jerusalem a desolation; when Jehovah’s holy and beautiful house had been burned with fire (Isaiah 64:10 f.); then men were constrained to “pour out their heart like water before the face of the Lord” (Lamentations 2:19) and to “lift up their heart with their hands unto God in the heavens” (Lamentations 3:41). As we have already seen, the need of God, acutely felt in all times of danger, was felt with special acuteness before the very obvious dangers of battle; and from every period of Israel’s history prayers rise from the battle-field. One of the oldest prayers in the Bible is Joshua’s apostrophe to the sun and moon during the battle of Gibeon (Joshua 10:12). Samuel prays for Israel before the battle of Ebenezer (1 Samuel 7:5), and nearly a thousand years later in the Maccabean struggles, which, more than any other, recall the ancient days of Hebrew heroism, the same piety is observed (1Ma 4:30-33; 1Ma 5:33; 1Ma 11:71 f.). Between these periods the union of piety and heroism is illustrated by Nehemiah, one of whose weapons in battle is prayer. He urges his men not only to fight with all their might for their wives and children, but to “remember the Lord, who is great and terrible” (Nehemiah 4:14).
There are several characteristic references to prayer before battle in the book of Chronicles. Abijah delivers a long religious harangue before the battle with Jeroboam I (2 Chronicles 13:4-12), and Asa prays to Jehovah before his assault upon the Ethopians (2 Chronicles 14:11). Most interesting, however, and most characteristic of all is the Chronicler’s description of the preparations for the attack upon the combined forces of Moab and Ammon (2 Chronicles 20). The king Jehoshaphat offers a very earnest prayer to save Judah from the great army opposed to them; and, as if that were not enough, an exhortation is delivered the day before the battle by a Levite, after which they all fall down before Jehovah. The next morning Jehoshaphat again heartens them: “Believe in Jehovah, your God, so shall ye be established”; and after that singers are appointed to go before the army singing, “Give thanks to Jehovah; for His loving-kindness endureth for ever.” It seems natural to suppose that the Chronicler has imported into his battle scenes that peculiar type of ecclesiastical piety which colors his whole history. The speech of Abijah is replete with ceremonial allusions, and Jehoshaphat concludes his prayer with the words: “We have no might against the great company that cometh against us, neither know we what to do; but our eyes are upon Thee” (2 Chronicles 20:12). It can hardly be denied that there is a certain unreality about this, when we consider that, according to the Chronicler’s own account, he had nearly a million and a quarter fighting men (2 Chronicles 17:14-18). But whatever the historical value of such narratives may be, they are at least significant for the piety of the period: it was incredible that Israel should enter a battle without committing her cause to God. But even within the Old Testament there are prayers for other things than bread and victory. The seers of Israel knew that men did not live by bread alone (Deuteronomy 8:3), and prayers rise for wisdom and forgiveness, for guidance and a closer walk with God. The noble prayer of Solomon for wisdom is regarded in the narrative as touching unusual heights (1 Kings 3:11; cf. James 1:5) in its deliberate rejection of riches and honor. Ezra acknowledges that along with the manna which fed Israel “Thou gavest also Thy good spirit to instruct them” (Nehemiah 9:20). One of the most fervent prayers in the Bible is for the presence of the spirit, and for the cleansing and renewing of the heart.
Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from Thy presence. And take not Thy holy spirit from me. (Psalms 51:10 f.)
There were men who longed for the light of God’s face, and to whom that light was better than corn and wine (Psalms 4:6 f.), men whose heart’s desire was to be delivered from every crooked way, and led in the way everlasting (Psalms 139:24), men who felt that a man was nothing profited, if he gained the world and lost God and his soul. The supreme longing of the profounder souls of Israel was for God, not gifts but Himself. This passion receives everlasting expression in the words of a later psalmist: “If I have but Thee, I ask for nothing in heaven or earth. Though flesh and heart fail, yet God is my portion for ever. . . . My happiness lies in being near my God” (Psalms 73:25-28). Such men felt that God held them by the hand, and guided them through this world, and they were sure that He would afterwards receive them to glory (Psalms 73:24). When, after the anguish of doubt, they had found him, they were content with Him, and they could dispense with all the visible and customary proofs of His goodness. For though the fig-tree shall not flourish, And there be no fruit in the vines, Though the labor of the olive fail And the fields yield no food, Though the flock be cut off from the fold, And there be no herd in the stalls;
Yet will I rejoice in Jehovah, I will joy in the God of my salvation. (Habakkuk 3:17-18) The defects of the Old Testament prayer are associated with the defects of the Old Testament religion generally. To one who forgets that the Biblical religion was in every stage historically conditioned, nothing can be more disappointing than the frequent cries for vengeance which are heard more or less loudly in every stage of its development. One of the very oldest poems in the Bible—the so-called Song of Lamech (Genesis 4:23 f.)— is a song in glorification of revenge, and one of the oldest prayers—Samson’s—is a prayer for vengeance (Judges 16:28); and the note struck thus early reverberates throughout the centuries.
Each of the first four elegies in the book of Lamentations concentrates its passion in a concluding cry for vengeance—Do to them as Thou hast done unto me. We have already seen how the torn heart of Jeremiah utters itself in wild appeals to Jehovah to “bring upon his enemies the day of evil and destroy them with a double destruction” (Jeremiah 17:18); and Nehemiah prays that God will remember his enemies according to their works (Nehemiah 6:14), frustrate their plans, carry them to a foreign land, and refuse to pardon their sin (Nehemiah 4:4).
It is somewhat remarkable that the two historical characters whose prayer life we know best and whose piety was of the intensest, should have repeatedly prayed in this strain. It is equally remarkable that some of the tenderest and most beautiful voices in the Psalter occasionally break into imprecation (Psalms 137). It is the man who expressed in language of unapproachable simplicity and beauty his sense of the mysterious omnipresence of God, that confesses to hating his enemies with implacable hatred, and prays for their destruction (Psalms 139:20 f.). Two men die with prayers for vengeance upon their lips (Judges 16:28; 2 Chronicles 24:22); and in the book of Revelations (Revelation 6:10) the martyred souls beneath the altar are represented as crying aloud to God for vengeance on those who had slain them.
It has to be remembered that these imprecations are seldom or never the utterance of a selfish passion. The enemies denounced are enemies of the moral order (Psalms 94:5-6). They are the men who plotted against the innocent Jeremiah, who sought to frustrate the patriotic work of Nehemiah, who longed to see Jerusalem razed to the ground (Psalms 137:7). Further, there was for long no outlook upon immortality, no certainty of a judgment beyond. If God was to interpose to vindicate the violated order of the moral world, He must do so speedily. Of the Old Testament saints it could seldom be said, “believing where they did not see.” Seeing was believing; and, without sight, faith was difficult, sometimes impossible. Very seldom does the Old Testament religion shake itself completely free of this materialism. The skeptics are not convinced, and the pious are not content, till they see something. “Let him make speed, let Him hasten His work, that we may see it” (Isaiah 5:19) say the former. They taunt Jeremiah with the challenge, “Where is the word of Jehovah? Let it come now” (Jeremiah 17:15); and it is this challenge that drives the prophet to his passionate prayers. The disconsolate who cry, “Where is the God of justice?” (Malachi 2:17) Malachi points to a coming judgment in which the righteous shall be spared and the wicked consumed; and then “ye shall see the difference between the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that serveth Him not” (Malachi 3:18). The weakness of Old Testament religion is its materialism, but this is also its strength. Deprived for centuries of the hope of another world, it threw itself with passion upon the world that now is, and claimed it in its every part for God. Without the splendid range and versatility the Greek, the Hebrew had an almost Greek interest in this world. There is an occasional mysticism about Hebrew poetry: every man walketh in a vain show, and life is but a pilgrimage and a dream (Psalms 39). But that is not the dominant note of the older religion. It did not lose itself in the distant heavens. The earth was the Lord’s, and He had given it to men; and there, if at all, they were determined, and even bound, to find Him. If He moved upon it, was it unreasonable to expect that His footprints would be visible? And so all the treasures of field and vineyard, all the delights of home and country were regarded as blessings from His good hand. History was but the march of the Divine purpose; and when virtue seemed to be defeated and vice triumphant, faith was put to a terrible strain. It seemed as if God had left His world. But though Old Testament religion was limited, within its limitations it was intensely and passionately real. Its healthy materialism was one manifestation of its faith. It expected and found God in the world, because it claimed the world for God. In the New Testament, prayer is, as we might expect, predominantly for things spiritual. Doubtless material things could not be altogether ignored or forgotten; had not the Master Himself taught His disciples to pray for bread, and had He not made upon them the impression that any request they made in His name would be answered? But requests by such men and in such a name would be overwhelmingly for things spiritual. Those whose ambition was to “abide in Him” would not be sorely troubled by ambitions of a worldly kind.
All requests were to be made in accordance with the Divine will, and as that will was the salvation of all men through the gospel of Jesus, many of the New Testament prayers are for the success of that gospel among those to whom it is preached, for boldness in proclaiming it, and for the further strengthening and establishing of those who have already accepted it. One of the earliest prayers in the book of Acts (Acts 9:20 f.) is that the servants of the Lord may be enabled to speak His word with all boldness, and that signs and wonders be done through the name of Jesus. Paul, like his Master (John 17:15), prayed that his converts should be preserved from all that was evil and perfected in all that was good, that they should be filled with the knowledge of the Divine will (Colossians 1:9), and with the desire to do the same. In the early church, this spiritual note is the dominant one. Epaphras prays earnestly that the Colossians “may stand perfect and fully assured in all the will of God,” (Colossians 4:12) and in almost the same words the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews (Hebrews 13:21) prays that those whom he addresses may be made perfect in every good thing to do His will.
One of the most eloquent proofs of the profound seriousness of Israel’s religion, despite its materialistic bias, is to be found in the prayers of confession. She needed forgiveness as well as bread. Her creed was, “there is no man that sinneth not (1 Kings 8:46); and although the conception of sin included breaches of the ceremonial no less than of the moral law, all the formal confessions of the Old Testament fall within the latter category. It is very significant that, with probably only one real exception, these prayers are collective, not individual—confessions, that is, of national and not of personal sin. The exception is the confession which David makes after numbering the people, where he prays that the punishment may fall, not upon his innocent people, but upon himself and his father’s house (2 Samuel 24:17). This last phrase throws light upon the comparative absence of individual confessions. In reality, the father’s house should have been no more entitled to pay the penalty than the innocent people; but in earlier times, the whole family of the sinner was involved in his doom (Cf. Achan in Joshua 7). This, of course, was due to a defective sense of the absolute value of the individual soul. Relatively speaking, at least till the time of Jeremiah, and more or less till the time of Jesus, the individual was lost in the community. The religious unit was the nation, not the man; the individual had not yet fully come to his own. A striking feature of these public confessions is that almost invariably the worshippers acknowledge the sin of the fathers as well as their own. The ages are felt to be linked each to each by a chain of sin. “We have sinned against Jehovah our God, we and our fathers” (Jeremiah 3:25). “We acknowledge, O Jehovah, our wickedness and the iniquity of our fathers” (Jeremiah 14:20). “Since the days of our fathers,” prays Ezra, “we have been exceedingly guilty unto this day” (Ezra 9:7). Another confession led by him is introduced with the words, “they stood and confessed their sins and the iniquities of their fathers” (Nehemiah 9:2; cf. Leviticus 26:40); and a much later prayer runs: “For our sins and for the iniquities of our fathers, Jerusalem and Thy people are become a reproach to all that are round about us” (Daniel 9:16). Sometimes the speaker acknowledges his own personal guilt in the general confession—“my sin and the sin of my people Israel” (Daniel 9:20; Cf. Nehemiah 1:6, “I and my father’s house have sinned.”) —and sometimes the various classes of the community, especially the leading classes, are expressly mentioned—“kings, princes, priests” (Nehemiah 9:33; cf. Daniel 9:8) —as if to include all under the same condemnation.
Usually in the Old Testament confession is connected with calamity: suffering is the impulse to self-examination. It was when Israel was “sore distressed,” that she “cried unto Jehovah, saying, ‘ We have sinned against Thee’” (Judges 10:9-10). The sins confessed are usually general rather than specific. As the grace of God was most typically manifested in the deliverance of Israel from Egypt, so the sins of that early period are typical of the sins of Israel’s subsequent career: obstinacy, disobedience, rebellion, ingratitude, incredulity, forgetfulness, indifference, idolatry (Nehemiah 9; Psalms 106; Isaiah 64:5-6). Since to later times, the religion of Israel was supremely embodied in Moses and the prophets, the worshippers confess in general terms that they “have not kept the commandments, nor the statutes, nor the ordinances, which Thou didst command Thy servant Moses,” (Nehemiah 1:7; cf. Daniel 9:5) that they had cast the divine law behind their back (Nehemiah 9:26). In particular, Ezra confesses the breach of the law which forbade intermarriage with their heathen neighbors (Ezra 9:12). Again it is said that they had not walked according to the laws which Jehovah had set before them by His servants the prophets (Daniel 9:10); they had even gone the length of slaying the prophets who had testified against them (Nehemiah 9:26). The climax of the confession is usually solemn and impressive, and it conforms to a certain simple type. In two Hebrew words (Daniel 9:15), or three (1 Kings 8:47), or four—“we have sinned, we have dealt perversely, we have done wickedly, we have rebelled” (Daniel 9:5)—the penitents pour out their hearts. It is more like a series of sobs than a prayer. The simple brevity (Cf. the confession of the prodigal son in Luke 15:21) of the Hebrew is very solemn and impressive, and is altogether lost in the diffuse language of the English translation. Prayers of confession are more frequent and elaborate in post-exilic than in pre-exilic times, partly because the church, as a whole, is more highly organized, and partly because, as the religion advances, under the strain of sorrowful experience, it is led to take on a more somber color. The formal confessions of later times always acknowledge the justice of God. “Thou hast punished us less than our iniquities deserve,” (Ezra 9:13) and “Thou art just in all that has come upon us” (Nehemiah 9:33). So the worshippers can do nothing but throw themselves upon the marvelous mercy of God. “To the Lord our God belong mercies and forgiveness” (Daniel 9:9). He is ready to blot out as a thick cloud their transgressions (Isaiah 44:22). He is a God that pardons iniquity (Micah 7:18 f.). True, it is this persistent goodness of God—what Ezra twice calls His “manifold mercies” (Nehemiah 9:19; Nehemiah 9:27) — that makes their wickedness so heinous. They had sinned against a light that had shone as the noon-day. But as that mercy was the deepest thing in the divine nature, it could always be depended upon by those who turned to it in sincerity and truth. So they confess in hope (Micah 7:9). “For we do not present our supplications before Thee for our righteousness, but for Thy great mercies’ sake” (Daniel 9:18); and a passionate earnestness rings through the words with which this prayer concludes: “O Lord, hear; O Lord forgive; O Lord hearken and do. Defer not, for Thine own sake, O my God” (Daniel 9:19).
We shall now consider the intercessory prayers. They are not very numerous, but they are of great significance. It would not be unfair to estimate a man’s religion by the earnestness with which he longs for the welfare of others and love of the brethren will express itself, in normal circumstances, in prayer for them. Those who love them most and those who are most responsible for their spiritual welfare will be likely to pray most for them. It is, therefore, very fitting that the prophets, who in a special sense were charged with the religious welfare of Israel, should so often appear as intercessors. We think of them pre-eminently as preachers, but they had first pled with God for the men to whom they afterwards appealed in His name. Most of them must have been powerful, or at least, impressive speakers. Their gifts and temperaments differed widely, but the passionate sincerity of such men as Elijah and Jeremiah must have produced a stupendous impression even upon audiences that were not disposed to accept their message; and we can well believe that a special (efficacy was supposed to attach to their prayers.
Twice, in moments of danger, the people beseech Samuel to cry to their God for them (1 Samuel 7:8; 1 Samuel 12:19), and Samuel seems to regard intercession as part of his official duty the neglect of which is a sin. “Far be it from me that I should sin against Jehovah in ceasing to pray for you (1 Samuel 12:23; cf. 1 Samuel 7:5). A similar sense of the duty and power of prophetic prayer shines through the words of Jeremiah: “Though Moses and Samuel stood before me, yet my mind would not be toward this people.” (Jeremiah 15:1. There may also be here the feeling that the prayers of the ancient prophets were more efficacious than the modern. Ezekiel 14:14; Ezekiel 14:16; Ezekiel 14:18; Ezekiel 14:20, in a similar connection, mentions the names of Noah, Daniel and Job.) Moses is regarded as the incomparable prophet whose like had not arisen since in Israel (Deuteronomy 34:10), and it is worthy of note that nearly all the prayers ascribed to him are intercessory. Repeatedly he prays that the plagues be removed from Pharaoh. He prays for his apostate people in language that reaches almost unparalleled heights of self-sacrificing devotion (Exodus 32:31 f.). He prays that the leprosy be removed from Miriam (Numbers 12:13). And, in his case, as in Samuel’s, the people recognize his intercessory power (Numbers 21:7). The date of these narratives is immaterial: they are at any rate a proof of the power which later ages conceived to accompany the prophet’s speech with God no less than his speech to men.
Practically all the intercessory prayers of the Old Testament are offered either by prophets or by men —such as Abraham (Genesis 20:7) and Job—whom later ages idealized as prophets. Abraham’s intercession for Sodom (Genesis 18:22 ff.) and for King Ahimelech (Genesis 20:17), and Job’s intercession for his friends are characteristic; and their prayers are efficacious. “Abraham is a prophet, and he shall pray for thee, and thou shalt live” (Genesis 20:7). “My servant Job shall pray for you,” (Job 42:8) that is, for the “orthodox” friends, who had not spoken of God the thing that was right. The historical prophets from Elijah (Cf. the late story in 1 Kings 13:6, where Jeroboam I entreats the man of God to pray for the restoration of his withered hand.) on appear frequently in the role of intercessors. Elijah prays for the restoration of the widow’s son (1 Kings 17:21). Amos the stem, from whom one would expect little pity, pleaded twice that the blow should not fall upon Israel (Amos 7:2; Amos 7:5). King Hezekiah, after insulting message of the Rabshakeh, entreats Isaiah through the priests and two court officials to “lift up his prayer for the remnant that is left” (2 Kings 19:4); and the Chronicler puts into the mouth of Hezekiah himself a very beautiful prayer to “Jehovah the good” for pardon for those who had) earnestly sought their God, even though their conduct had not been ceremonially correct (2 Chronicles 30:18).
Most instructive, however, is the intercession of Jeremiah. From several allusions in the course of the prophecy we may conclude that Jeremiah habitually prayed for the people (Jeremiah 7:16; Jeremiah 11:14; Jeremiah 14:11), and we have his own express statement, “I stood before Thee to speak good for them, to turn away Thy wrath from them” (Jeremiah 18:20).
People and king alike request his prayers. During a temporary respite in the siege of Jerusalem, Zedekiah sent two men to Jeremiah with such a request (Jeremiah 37:3); and, in the confusion that followed the assassination of Gedaliah, the governor of Judah, a great crowd; visited Jeremiah with a similar request. “Pray for: us unto Jehovah thy God . . . that Jehovah thy God may show us the way wherein we should walk and the thing we should do” (Jeremiah 42:2-3). The double recognition of Jehovah as Jeremiah’s God is very striking. They may indeed have besought his prayers, because of the acknowledged and peculiar efficacy of a prophet’s prayer; but they may also have felt that their sin (Jeremiah 7:9) had rendered their approach impossible or their prayers unavailing. Twice, too, Ezekiel is moved to a brief intercessory prayer for the remnant of Israel (Ezekiel 9:8; Ezekiel 11:13). Prayers are occasionally offered for foreigners, but here, as everywhere in the Old Testament, the national note is heard. Jeremiah, for example, urges the exiles to pray to Jehovah for Babylon and to seek her welfare, “for in the peace thereof ye shall have peace” (Ezra 6:10); and Darius, in his decree, desires the prayers of the Jews for himself and his dynasty (Ezra 6:10). In the Old Testament, intercessory prayer is usually offered for forfeited or imperiled lives; in the New Testament, its object is usually the spiritual welfare of those for whom it is offered, as when Jesus prays that Peter’s faith fail not (Luke 22:32), or Paul, that his Ephesian converts be strengthened with power in the inward man (Ephesians 3:16 ff.), or that the Philippians may abound more and more in love (Php 1:9). There are occasional prayers for blessings of a more material sort. The elders of the church are to pray for a sick member (James 5:14) and Peter prays for the restoration of the dead Tabitha (Acts 9:40). The “great Prophet that should come into the world,” like the ancient prophets, was great in intercession. He poured out his heart not only for his disciples (John 17:6-19) but for His murderers (Luke 23:34). A reminiscence of the ancient belief in the power of prophetic prayer is to be seen in the request of Simon Magus that Peter should pray to the Lord for him (Acts 8:24); but, with the progress of the gospel which proclaimed the equality of all men, this belief would tend to disappear, especially after the last of the disciples had passed away. The prayer of any righteous man should avail as much as the prayer of an apostle; and, in accordance with the belief that, irrespective of rank, men need the prayers of one another (James 5:16), we find Paul not only praying for his converts, but equally earnest in his requests that they should pray for him (1 Thessalonians 5:25, etc.; cf. Hebrews 13:18). The Lord’s prayer had taught men that spiritual interests were paramount, and the lesson was deeply written upon the mind of the early church. The apostles pray that the Samaritans should receive the Holy Spirit (Acts 8:15): and elsewhere it is recommended that intercession be offered for all men, especially for those in positions of authority, “that we may lead a tranquil and quiet life in all godliness and gravity” (1 Timothy 2:1-2). The “welfare of Jerusalem” was still, as of old, the object of fervent prayer, but it was now no more the old Jerusalem, but the unseen city not built with hands.
We shall consider in conclusion the prayers of thanksgiving. It is characteristic of the difference between the Old Testament and the New that such prayers are relatively far fewer in the former book than in the latter. For one thing, gratitude is less natural than petition; besides, fullness of joy was possible only to those who were partakers of the salvation proclaimed and wrought by Jesus. But even in the Old Testament there is a deep under-current of joy. The religious festivals of pre-exilic times were happy gatherings at which men rejoiced and were glad, as they looked at the produce of the field and vine-clad hillside, and reminded themselves of the divine goodness; and even post-exilic religion, though in many ways somber, is also glad. Worship was solemn, but happy.
Enter into His gates with thanksgiving, And into His courts with praise.
Give thanks unto Him, and bless His name; For Jehovah is good, His love is everlasting. (Psalms 100:4-5)
These last words—the summary confession of Israel’s faith—are repeatedly echoed, especially throughout the writings of the priestly school; for example, in the ideal descriptions of the founding of the first and second temples (2 Chronicles 5:13; Ezra 3:11; cf. Jeremiah 33:11 at the restoration). They form the burden of one of the most beautiful of the later psalms (Psalms 107; cf. Psalms 145-150, and they doubtless incarnate an important element in the temple worship. One of the principal functions of the Levites was “to thank and praise Jehovah,” (1 Chronicles 23:30; cf. 2 Chronicles 8:14) and the book of Daniel represents him as “kneeling on his knees three times a day, and praying, and giving thanks before God” (Daniel 6:10). In spite, however, of this pervasive joy, there are few recorded prayers of thanksgiving in the Old Testament, and those that occur usually express gratitude for things material—for land (Deuteronomy 8:10), and food (Deuteronomy 26:6-10), and victory (Psalms 149:5-6). Just as the Philistines praise Dagon for their victory over Samson (Judges 16:23 f.), so Jephthah vows and offers a sacrifice for his victory over the Ammonites (Judges 11:30 f.), and much of Israel’s war-poetry was simply a poetic tribute to Jehovah, their great “man of war” (Exodus 15:3). The only prayer that is formally prescribed in the Old Testament is a prayer of thanksgiving to be offered by the worshipper after he has set down the basket of first fruits before the altar (Deuteronomy 26:6-10). He thus expressed his gratitude—not in word only, but in deed and truth. As we may infer from many a Hebrew proper name, prayers of thanksgiving were no doubt offered for the birth of a child (cf. 1 Samuel 2); also for recovery from sickness (Isaiah 38:10-20). David, in accordance with the rough spirit of a primitive time, blesses his God, when death has removed Nabal out of his way (1 Samuel 25:39). In the New Testament, though the incomparable joy is that which comes through Jesus, gratitude for material things is not forgotten. Both Jesus and Paul are recorded as having prayed before meat; and, although the occasions on which these prayers are alluded to are always remarkable for other reasons —Jesus’ prayers being associated with his miracles of feeding the multitude (Matthew 15:36; Mark 8:6-7; Matthew 14:19; Mark 6:41; Luke 9:16; John 6:11), with the institution of the supper (Matthew 26:26-27; Mark 14:23; Luke 22:19), and with the evening meal at Emmaus after the resurrection (Luke 24:30), and Paul’s with his shipwreck (Acts 27:35) — there is every reason to believe that they did this habitually in accordance with Jewish custom. Recovery from sickness is often acknowledged in the New Testament by prayer, the gratitude being sometimes expressed by the man who is healed (Luke 18:43; Acts 3:8), and sometimes by the multitudes that witnessed the cure (Matthew 9:8; Mark 2:12; Luke 5:26; Luke 7:16; Luke 18:43). But most characteristic of the New Testament are the prayers of thanksgiving offered to God for the gift of Jesus, and for the triumph of His gospel. Two of the earliest prayers in the gospel of Luke—those of Simeon and Anna (Luke 2:29-32; Luke 2:38)—are prayers of thanks to God for Jesus, and this reflects faithfully the spirit of the early church (Acts 4:25 ff.). The triumph of His gospel among the Gentiles is also a source of the profoundest gratitude. The Jerusalem church, a little inclined to be narrow-hearted, is led by the marvelous stories of Peter (Acts 11:18) and Paul (Acts 21:20) to glorify God, because that to the Gentiles also He had granted repentance unto life. One offers thanks for being called to the ministry of Jesus (1 Timothy 1:12), and another for the hope of immortality which is inspired by the resurrection of Jesus (1 Peter 1:3 ff).
Songs of praise are unusually abundant in the book of Revelation. Day and night they rise from the lips of the four living creatures to Him that sitteth upon the throne (Revelation 4:8). And the reason why the great multitude in heaven rejoices and gives the glory to God (Revelation 19:6) is because Christ has conquered the world, and He shall reign for ever and ever (Revelation 11:15). The scene is set in heaven, and the vision is a vision of faith, not of reality; yet, though of faith, it is intensely real. The writer sees, if only with the eye of faith, what Jeremiah had longed to see, and was perplexed and grieved because he could not see—the manifest vindication of the moral order, the indisputable triumph of the Kingdom of God. “We give Thee thanks, O ’Lord God, the Almighty, because Thou hast taken Thy great power and didst reign” (Revelation 11:16). He had proved Himself more than a match in the struggle with the cruel powers of evil. Salvation and power belonged to Him, because “He had judged the great harlot and avenged the blood of His servants” (Revelation 19:2). They had poured out the blood of the saints and prophets, “and blood hast Thou given them to drink: they deserve it” (Revelation 16:6). Therefore Hallelujah, and again Hallelujah (Revelation 19:1; Revelation 19:3). Yes, “righteous art Thou, true and righteous are Thy judgments” (Revelation 16:5; Revelation 16:7; Revelation 19:2). It is the contemplation of the divine justice, of the thoroughness and terribleness of the divine judgment upon the gigantic forces of evil, of the victory of right and good and God, it is these things that stir the writer’s blood. In its longing for a vindication of the moral order by the divine vengeance (Revelation 6:10) upon all opposed to that order, this great literary witness to the spirit of Jewish Christianity stands very near the Old Testament. But the book, though intensely Jewish, is also intensely Christian. It draws its inspiration, if not always from the spirit of Jesus, at any rate from an absolute faith in Him, an immovable confidence in His power and ultimate victory. This confidence is enthusiastically shared by all the writers of the New Testament; and so it is fitting that although the New Testament doxologies are usually offered to God (1 Peter 1:3 f.; 1 Peter 5:11), there is at least one undisputed doxology to Christ. “To Him be the glory both now and for ever. Amen” (2 Peter 3:18).
