1. SHOULD we have special times and places for prayer?
That is a fair question, and one which it is desirable to ask. Undoubtedly the use of this machinery of prayer is attended by a constant danger—a danger which, if it is forgotten, becomes the more threatening. It may betray us into formalism, into the assumption, if not the deliberate conviction, that He who seeks the worship of such as will worship Him in spirit and in truth, is to be propitiated by outward shows. God is not, He cannot be, thus propitiated. Mere hollow forms of prayer may become an abomination to Him. But regular times and words of prayer have always commended themselves to men as being necessary helps to the spirit of devotion. They are witnesses and mementoes of the duty of praying; they lead and encourage and train men to inward prayer. And public or common prayer has, in addition, the virtue of awaking the common consciousness of Christians. We cannot pray together without the use of common forms; and our Lord has attached a special blessing to the joint praying of two or three who are gathered together in His name.
We know something of the communion of the saints, of the fellowship in which Christians are spiritually bound to one another; but if we believed in it and realized it more heartily, we should learn the strength in the Divine Kingdom of the union of those whom God has called to be members of one body, and the efficacy of the prayers which they offer through their Head in the one Spirit. Before resolving to absent himself from social worship or to break any other rule intended for the common edification, a Christian ought to satisfy himself not only that the ordinance is not good for his own soul, but also that it is one of which he may beneficially promote the general disuse. He should ask not only, Can I stay away from Church without loss? But, is it desirable that other people also should not come to Church—not only, Is it profitable for myself that I should spend Sunday in such a way? But, would it be better for the community in general to spend it in a similar way? In Christ, no man lives to himself; and rules which it is good for the whole body that the members should observe become thereby binding on the individual members.
If thou love thine health, if thou desire to be sure from the grennes of the devil, from the storms of this world, from the await of thine enemies, if thou long to be acceptable to God, if thou covet to be happy at the last; let no day pass thee but thou once at the leastwise present thyself to God by prayer, and falling down before Him flat to the ground with an humble affect of devout mind, not from the extremity of thy lips, but out of the inwardness of thine heart, cry these words of the prophet, “Delicta juventutis meae et ignorantias meas ne memineris. Sed secundum misericordiam tuam memento mei propter bonitatem tuam Domine”. “The offences of my youth and mine ignorances remember not, good Lord, but after Thy mercy, Lord, of Thy goodness, remember me.” [Note: Giovanni Pico della Mirandola.]
2. But it is in private life and in relation to private prayer that the question of time is most acute. And here it goes without saying that it is impossible to lay down rules, where none have been laid down by God. And indeed it is not difficult to see why none have been thus laid down. In all such matters we have to take into account the varieties of human temperament, and recognize frankly that what might be a profitable rule for one might prove a yoke of bondage to another, and do harm instead of good. Any kind of concentration of mind is much more difficult to some persons than it is to others, and these peculiarities will, of course, follow us into our religious life, rendering it much more difficult for one person to derive benefit from prolonged devotional exercises than it is for another. Then, again, we all know that the minds of some people act much more quickly than do the minds of others, and hence they may get more real help out of a few moments of prayer than others could out of a comparatively lengthened period thus employed. All this and a great deal more needs to be taken into consideration, and must make us careful lest we unduly burden a brother’s conscience with rules which, at best, must needs be of a more or less arbitrary character.
Nor is this all. We must believe that God takes our circumstances as well as our temperament into account, and remembers how hard it is for not a few, in these days of pressure and strain, to allot to prayer the time that they would themselves desire. It may be observed, however, in passing, that probably, unless our night’s rest is already much shorter than it ought to be, the body would not suffer by the loss of ten minutes or so of its natural repose, while the soul might be an immense gainer by the addition of those minutes to its otherwise hurried devotional exercises. For the really important thing is that we should not be hurried; that there should be nothing hasty or perfunctory in our prayers, but rather spontaneous and delighted intercourse of heart with heart. He who prays because conscience demands that he shall discharge a duty will find his very prayer contribute to loveless unreality. He who prays, on the other hand, because he wants to pray will not be satisfied with anything short of real spiritual communion, and his prayer will bring him into holy and helpful intercourse with his God.
I remember hearing a helpful story of one of England’s greatest statesmen, who was as sincere a Christian as he was an ardent patriot. It was at a time when we seemed to be within measurable distance of war with a great European power; and men were almost holding their breath, as they opened their morning newspaper, doubtful of what a day might have brought forth. The strain on the nerves and judgment of those in authority was something terrible, and the post of a Cabinet Minister was anything but an enviable one. A Cabinet meeting was being held, and already there was some irregular conversation passing from one to another about the crisis, every one betraying more or less of agitation and misgiving. Suddenly the door opened, and, a few moments late, the statesman to whom I refer entered, carrying on his face that placid look of settled peace which never seemed to desert him, whatever might be happening around. “Ah!” said the Premier of the time, as he reached out his hand to greet him, “Here comes the ‘Central Calm’; now we shall get something done”. And I believe that this honourable sobriquet clung to him for many a day. “I could have told them,” said his wife to me, “where he gets his calm from. Every day of his life, however late he may have been kept up by his Parliamentary duties the previous night, he always contrives to have a quiet hour alone with God and his Bible, and so he is ready for whatever may come.” [Note: W. H. M. H. Aitken, The Divine Ordinance of Prayer, 295.]
