Before leaving the subject of special answers to prayer, it is fitting that some notice should be taken of a closely related, if not quite identical, subject—the experience which men and women have of guidance due to some inward suggestion, and usually regarded as a supernatural communication. The subject is presented by Dr. John Watson (“Ian Maclaren”) in a paper contributed to a volume entitled In Answer to Prayer, edited by Bishop Boyd Carpenter.
Dr. Watson says: “During the course of my ministry, and especially of recent years, I have been moved to certain actions for which there seemed no reason, and which I only performed under the influence of a sudden impulse. As often as I yielded to this inward guidance, and before the issue was determined, my mind had a sense of relief and satisfaction, and in all distinct and important cases my course was in the end most fully justified. With the afterlook one is most thankful that on certain occasions he was not disobedient to the touch of the unseen, and only bitterly regrets that on other occasions he was callous and wilful or was overcome by shame and timidity.”
He then gives three examples, of which the following is the most striking:—
“It was my privilege, before I came to Sefton Park Church, to serve as a colleague with a venerable minister to whom I was sincerely attached, and who showed me much kindness. We both felt the separation keenly and kept up a constant correspondence, while this good and affectionate man followed my work with spiritual interest and constant prayer. When news came one day that he was dangerously ill it was natural that his friend should be gravely concerned, and, as the days of anxiety grew, that the matter should take firm hold of the mind. It was a great relief to learn, towards the end of a week, that the sickness had abated, and when, on Sunday morning, a letter came with strong and final assurance of recovery the strain was quite relaxed, and I did my duty at morning service with a light heart. During the afternoon my satisfaction began to fail, and I grew uneasy till, by evening service, the letter of the morning counted for nothing.
“After returning home my mind was torn with anxiety and I became most miserable, fearing that this good man was still in danger, and, it might be, near unto death. Gradually the conviction deepened and took hold of me that he was dying, and that I would never see him again, till at last it was laid on me that if I hoped to receive his blessing I must make haste, and by-and-by that I had better go at once. It did not seem as if I had now any choice, and I certainly had no longer any doubt; so, having written to break two engagements for Monday, I left at midnight for Glasgow.
“As I whirled through the darkness it certainly did occur to me that I had done an unusual thing, for here was a fairly busy man leaving his work and going a long night’s journey to visit a sick friend of whose well-being he had been assured on good authority. By every evidence which could tell on another person he was acting foolishly, and yet he was obeying an almost irresistible impulse.
“The day broke as we climbed the ascent beyond Moffat, and I was now only concerned lest time should be lost on the way. On arrival I drove rapidly to the well-known house, and was in no way astonished that the servant, who opened the door, should be weeping bitterly, for the fact that word had come from that very house that all was going well did not now weigh one grain against my own inward knowledge.
“ ‘He had a relapse yesterday afternoon, and he is . . . dying now.’ No one in the room seemed surprised that I should have come although they had not sent for me, and I held my reverend father’s hand till he fell asleep in about twenty minutes. He was beyond speech when I came, but, as we believed, recognized me and was content. My night’s journey was a pious act, for which I thanked God, and my absolute conviction is that I was guided to its performance by spiritual influence.”
After relating his experiences, Dr. Watson offers three inferences.
(1) People may live in an atmosphere of sympathy which will be a communicating medium. When some one appears to read another’s thoughts, as we have all seen done at public exhibitions, it was evidently by physical signs, and it served no good purpose. It was a mechanical gift, and was used for an amusement. This is knowledge of another kind, whose conditions are spiritual and whose ends are ethical. Between you and the person there must be some common feeling; it rises to a height in the hour of trouble; and its call is for help. The correspondence here is between heart and heart, and the medium through which the message passes is love.
(2) This love is but another name for Christ, who is the head of the body; and here one falls back on St. Paul’s profound and illuminating illustration. It is Christ who unites the whole race, and especially all Christian folk, by His incarnation. Into Him are gathered all the fears, sorrows, pains, troubles of each member, so that He feels with all, and from Him flows the same feeling to other members of the body. He is the common spring of sensitiveness and sympathy, who connects each man with his neighbour and makes of thousands a living organic spiritual unity.
(3) In proportion as one abides in Christ he will be in touch with his brethren. If it seem to one marvellous and almost incredible that any person should be affected by another’s sorrow whom he does not at the moment see, is it not marvellous, although quite credible, that we are so often indifferent to sorrow which we do see? Is it not the case that one of a delicate soul will detect secret trouble in the failure of a smile, in a sub-tone of voice, in a fleeting shadow on the face? “How did he know?” we duller people say. “By his fellowship with Christ” is the only answer. “Why did we not know?” On account of our hardness and selfishness. If one live self-centred—ever concerned about his own affairs there is no callousness to which he may not yet descend; if one live the selfless life, there is no mysterious secret of sympathy which may not be his. Wherefore if any one desire to live in nervous touch with his fellows, so that their sorrows be his own and he be their quick helper, if he desire to share with Christ the world burden, let him open his heart to the Spirit of the Lord. In proportion as we live for ourselves are we separated from our families, our friends, our neighbours; in proportion as we enter into the life of the cross we are one with them all, being one with Christ, who is one with God.
An American gentleman travelling in Europe was taken suddenly and seriously ill in one of our northern towns. The day before this happened, a clergyman, who was at a distance in the country, was seized with a sudden and unaccountable desire to visit this very town. He had no idea why, but prayed for guidance in the matter, and finally felt convinced that he must go. Having stayed the night there he was about to return home rather inclined to think himself a very foolish person, when a waiter in the hotel brought him an American lady’s card and said that the lady wished to see him. He was the only English clergyman of whom she and her husband had any knowledge. They had happened to hear him preach in America. She had no idea where he lived, but when her husband was taken ill she and her daughter had prayed that he might be sent to them. On inquiry, strange to say, he was found to be in the hotel, and was able to render some assistance to the poor sufferer, who died in a few hours, and to his surviving and mourning relatives. [Note: Canon W. J. Knox Little.]
One of the most courageous and therefore helpful books on this subject is The Guiding Hand of God, by Dr. Rendel Harris. There he says: “A dear friend of ours, whose bright Christian experience is a continual exhilaration to all who know her, was one day going townwards on an errand of some kind, when she felt herself impelled in the spirit to turn down another road. She had not gone far when she came across a poor, degraded, drunken woman whom she had been in the habit of visiting and whom she had tried to help out of her many sorrows and sins The wretched woman came up to her and confessed that she had been on the point of throwing herself into the canal, but that she had come up the road in question under the feeling that she would perhaps meet on the way the friend who had tried to influence and help her. It need hardly be said that the retrospect of that obedience to the voice of the Inward Monitor, which led our friend down the very road where she was wanted, has been not only a permanent stimulus to her own faith and love, but has also furnished an object-lesson to others who desire to realize increasing helpfulness to others by an increasing sense of the presence of the Lord with us, to direct us, and to make use of us. And it must be true that when we are trying to help others with ministries of love, we are not acting apart from God, and may expect to find ministrations of the Paraclete to ourselves.” [Note: J. Rendel Harris, The Guiding Hand of God, 100.]
