Why Prayer is not Heard.
By Nevins
THERE are some who are not at all interested in this inquiry. They offer no prayer. There is in their case nothing to be heard. They are content with the things which are to be had without asking. Such are in a bad way, and I suspect they sometimes themselves think so. That dependent creatures should habitually and devoutly acknowledge their dependence before God; and that needy creatures, whose necessities return every day, and indeed recur with every moment, should ask God to supply them, is too reasonable a thing for men to neglect it, and yet be at perfect peace with themselves. But to pass from those who never make the experiment of prayer, we observe that some pray without any expectation or care to be heard. To obtain is not their object. Their end is accomplished in asking. They hear and judge that prayer is a duty owed to God. They therefore pray, that they may discharge this duty; and having prayed, and so done their duty, they are satisfied. Of course such persons obtain nothing. Why should they? If a child of yours should come and ask you for any thing from a mere sense of duty, you would say, "Very well, you have done your duty, go;" but you would not give him the thing. He did not ask it with any wish to get it. He does not feel his want of it. He meant only to do his duty in asking. It makes very little difference with such what is the matter of their prayer—what petitions they offer. Any thing that is of the nature of supplication will do. It is true, they generally pray for the right things, because the prayers they have heard and read petitioned for such, and they fall naturally into that style of prayer. Ask such persons if their prayers are heard, and you astonish them. That is what they never looked for. They never asked any thing with the hope of receiving it—never prayed from a sense of want. I have sometimes thought, how many would never pray, if prayer was not a duty. They never pray except when urged to it by conscience. As a privilege, they set no value on it. Now the truth is, when a man is really engaged in prayer, he altogether forgets that it is a duty. He feels that he wants something which God alone can give, and therefore goes and asks it; and feeling that he wants it very much, he is in earnest, asks and asks again, and waits and pleads for it, till he gets it. Does any one suppose that the publican smote on his breast, and cried, "God be merciful to me a sinner," from a sense of duty, and not rather from a conviction of sin, and a deep feeling of his need of mercy? And yet how many ask for mercy from a mere sense of duty. They have their reward, but they do not obtain mercy. Some prayers proceed from a conviction of want, while there is no sense of want. The persons judge that they need the things they ask for, but they do not feel their need of them. Now, prayers, which come from no deeper source than the understanding, are not heard. They must come from the heart. True prayer always originates in the heart. It is the heart's sincere desire. Or, as another has well described it, "It is a sense of want, seeking relief from God." But there may be a sense of want, and yet no real desire for that which is adapted to the supply of the want. In that case the prayer, not being sustained by a corresponding desire in the heart, is not heard. There is a conflict here. The lips pray one thing and the heart another. The request is perhaps to be delivered from all sin, but the desire is to be delivered from all but one or two favorite sins. Now it would be strange if God should grant a man's request to the disregard of his desire—that he should attend to the lips rather than the heart, and answer the prayer according to its terms rather than its meaning. But sometimes the desire for the thing requested is real, while the mischief is, it is not paramount—it is not supreme. This is a common case. The prayer expresses what is desired, but not what is desired on the whole. Many really wish to be religious, and they pray that they may be so, but they do not on the whole desire it. They have a strange wish to be something else which is incompatible with their being religious. Again, some sincerely desire the progress of the Gospel, but they desire still more to take their ease, or to keep their money. Perhaps some of this description attend the Monthly Concert. But desire may be sincere and supreme, and yet not intense. Effectual prayer is the expression of intense desire. The examples of successful prayer recorded in the Bible evince this. The woman of Canaan sincerely, supremely, and intensely desired what she asked. Such was the character of Jacob's desire for a blessing, and of the publican's for mercy. Where the desire of spiritual blessings is not very strong, it shows that these blessings are not suitably estimated. A great deal depends on having a petition properly presented. It is all-important to get it into the right hands. A petition frequently fails through inattention to this. If the proper person had been engaged to present and urge it, it would have been granted. This holds true of suits to the throne of heavenly grace. We must ask in the name of Christ. We must put our petitions into his hands, and engage the great Advocate to present and urge them. Him the Father always hears. Even the prayers of the saints need an incense to be offered along with them to render them acceptable. To present a petition is one thing. To prosecute a suit is another. Most prayer answers to the former. But successful prayer corresponds to the latter. The children of this world are in this respect wise in their generation. When they have a petition to carry, they go with it to the seat of government, and having conveyed it by the proper channel to the power which is to decide upon it, they anxiously await the decision, in the meantime securing all the influence they can, and doing every thing possible to ensure a favorable result. So should the children of light do. But frequently they just lodge their petitions in the court of heaven, and there they let it lie. They do not press their suit. They do not employ other means of furthering it, beyond the simple presenting of it. They do not await the decision on it. The whole of prayer66does not consist in taking hold of God. The main matter is holding on. How many are induced, by the slightest appearance of repulse, to let go, as Jacob did not! I have been struck with the manner in which petitions are usually concluded: "And your petitioners will ever pray." So "men ought always to pray, (to God,) and never faint." Payson says: "The promise of God is not to the act, but to the habit of prayer." Sometimes prayer is not heard, because not offered in faith. "He that cometh to God must believe." Yea, he must "Ask in faith, nothing wavering." Sometimes it is for want of a concomitant submission to the will of God. He who said, "let this cup pass from me," added, "nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt." Often prayer fails because the direction to pray everywhere is neglected. The petition proceeds from the closet, but is not also offered in the family, in the social meeting, and in the solemn assembly. Sometimes a specific direction is given concerning something to be done in connection with prayer, which being neglected, the prayer by itself is unavailing. Thus, in order that we may not enter into temptation, we are commanded to "watch and pray." Vain is prayer to secure against temptation, if vigilance be omitted. Prayer is sometimes ineffectual, because too general. When we ask many things, it commonly indicates that we are not in earnest for any thing. The heart is incapable of being at the same time the subject of many intense desires. The memorials of the children of this world are specific. They are rarely encumbered with more than one petition. Does any one suppose that when prayer was made of the church for Peter, being in prison, they prayed for everybody and everything first, and only brought in Peter's case at the close? Petitions have usually numerous signatures. So should there be union in prayer among Christians. Social supplication has particular value in the estimation of God. Special promises are made to it. Need I say that allowed sin vitiates prayer? "If I regard iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me." There is a regard to the promises which ought to be had in prayer. Moreover, confession of sin out of a broken heart, and gratitude for good received, should accompany it. And there is a "praying in the Holy Ghost," which we should aim to understand and realize. At an earlier stage of these remarks I might have observed that some prayer is not heard, because it is said rather than prayed. Now, prayer ought to be prayed. The closet is not the place for recitation. What more common than this expression: "I must say my prayers?" Must you indeed? Is this the way you speak of it? Is it a task to which you are going reluctantly to apply yourself? and say your prayers too? How this contrasts with the cheerful purpose of the Psalmist, "My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O Lord; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up." Perhaps one brings his gift to the altar, and forgets that his brother has aught against him; or remembering it, does not go first and seek reconciliation with him, but proceeds to offer his gift, and that is the reason it is not accepted. Many a Christian hinders his prayers by indulging in that species of unbelief, which surmises that what he asks is too great a thing for God to bestow on one so unworthy as he is. He forgets that the greatest, aye the greatest gift, has already been conferred in God's own Son, and the foundation therein laid for the argument, "how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?" God having begun his bounty in such a style of magnificence, consistency requires him now to go on, and do the greatest possible thing for the recipients of his Son.—Nevins.