As Viewed in the Religion of Nature

THEOLOGY

OF

PRAYER

As Viewed In The Religion Of Nature

And In The System Of Grace.

BY

B. M. PALMER, D. D., LL. D.,

Pastor Of The First Presbyterian Church, New Orleans, La.

To

Members Of The First Presbyterian Church And Congregation

In New Orleans

Who Have Kindly Listened to His Voice Through a period of six and thirty years, and now

with watchful tenderness wait on his declining age, this written voice speaks a pastor's gratitude.

copyrighted

by

JAS. K. HA ZEN, Secretary of Publication. 1894.

Contents

Preface To the new edition

Introductory Note.

Part First. Prayer In Natural Religion.

CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER II.

Adoration and Praise.

Petition and Thanksgiving.

Chapter III. Parts Of Prayer.—Continued.

Confession and Supplication.

Intercession......

Chapter IV. Prayer A Universal Duty.

Chapter V. Objections To Prayer.

First, an Impeachment of the Divine Perfections.

Chapter VI. Second Objection To Prayer.

Having no Place in a Government of law.

Chapter VII. Third objection to prayer.

Unwarranted From Answers Withheld.

Chapter VIII. Fourth Objection to Prayer.

The Prayer of the Wicked an Abomination.

Chapter Ix. Fifth Objection To Prayer.

Leading to Fanaticism and Mysticism.

Chapter X. Prayer: Its Place In A Moral Government.

Chapter Xl Reflex Benefits Of Prayer.

Chapter XII. The Dignity Of Prayer.

Part Second. Prayer In The Religion Of Grace.

Chapter I. The Covenant Of Grace.

Chapter II. Prayer In Relation To The Office Of The Father.

Chapter III. Prayer In Relation To The Office Of The Son.

I. Observe, Then, That It Is The Prerogative Of TheSon To Be The Immediate Revealer Of God.

Chapter IV. Prayer In Relation To The Office Of The Son.—Continued.

II. The Redemption Of A Lost Race By The Sacrifice Of Himself On The Cross.

Chapter V. Prayer In Relation To The Son.—Continued.

III. His Intercessory Pleading In The Court Of His Father Above.

Chapter VI. Prayer In Relation To The Office Of The Son.—Continued.

Chapter VII. Prayer In Relation To The Office Of The Spirit.

Chapter VIII. Prayer In Relation To The Office Of The Spirit. — Continued.

Chapter IX. Prayer In Relation To The Office Of The Spirit.— Continued.

Chapter X. Prayer In Relation To The Office Of The Spirit.—Continued.

Chapter Xl Conclusion.

Preface To the new edition

The author of this book, Benjamin Morgan Palmer, was born in 1818, in Charleston, South Carolina. He came of Puritan ancestry from a family of preachers. He was named for an uncle who was a pastor of the Circular Congregational Church in Charleston. Palmer was educated at the University of Georgia and the Theological Seminary in Columbia, where he later served as Professor of Ecclesiastical History and Church Polity.

When the Southern Presbyterian Church was organized in Augusta, Georgia, in December of 1861, Dr. Palmer was chosen as its first Moderator. In his sermon to this General Assembly, Palmer eloquently asserted that Jesus Christ alone was Lord and Head of His Body, the Church, which thus owed allegiance to no civil government.

Dr. Palmer served for over a third of a century as Pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of New Orleans. There his eloquent sermons, his indefatigable ministry to the needy, the sick and the sorrowing and his establishing of Bible schools for both white and black children made him easily the first citizen of that great city. This was convincingly shown when the Louisiana Lottery was the public issue. At a city-wide gathering in the largest auditorium there, Dr. Palmer so mightly denounced this evil (which was supporting the state out of money taken from those who were least able to afford it) that the lottery was doomed. For the word went out, "Dr. Palmer has spoken."

In this great book, our first Moderator bids us "theologize on our knees." When we come in prayer to our mighty Maker, our gracious Savior, His Holy Spirit leads us to put first things first. His first commandment is to love God with all; while to love our neighbor as ourselves comes second. In doing this, Dr. Palmer's penetrating insight discovered the compulsory logic indissoluably binding together as twin-truths the doctrine of the Atonement and the doctrine of the Trinity so that if one is rejected both go, p. 97.

Further when we "theologize on our knees" we take a kindlier stand toward our evangelical brethern with whom we differ when we stand up against them doc-trinally. That is, as we pray we seek to take toward these brethern more nearly the attitude which God is graciously taking toward us. Dean F. V. N. Parker of the Candler School of Theology in Emory brought this fact to my attention. Dean Parker said that his father was the Methodist pastor in New Orleans and that there our greatest preacher, Dr. Palmer, was his closest friend. Parker added, "My father preached preve-nient grace. Your Dr. Palmer preached predestination. But they meant exactly the same thing." When we "theologize on our knees" it is easier to love and to understand, even when our words differ.

Perhaps the most memorable and certainly the most useful sector of this book is Palmer's analysis of the parts of prayer. He compares prayer to a white light which passing through a prism is resolved into the colors of the spectrum. Thus,

"Prayer, as the language of worship, divides easily into adoration and praise; as the language of dependence, it breaks into petition and thanksgiving; as the language of guilt, it gives both confession and supplication. There remains only intercession, the seventh of these prismatic rays; and this springs from all these conjointly." p. 24. We cannot too highly commend this book to our oncoming ministers. May this edition do as much to keep you on your knees before the Most High, as you meditate, pray, and preach, as the first edition served that gracious end for your fathers in the faith.

Fraternally and affectionately,
William C. Robinson Professor of Ecclesiastical History and Church Polity,
1926-1967 Columbia Theological Seminary,
Decatur, Georgia Ocotber 12, 1978

Introductory Note.

This little volume does not profess to be an exhaustive discussion of a subject which has so many sides, as this of prayer. Our religious literature abounds in treatises which present its practical aspects. But so far as known to the author, there is no book which collects and refutes the various objections urged by different classes of sceptics. Nor is there to be found anywhere a full articulation of prayer in the system of grace. Scattered hints could be gathered here and there; but chiefly stowed away in theological works, not generally accessible to the ordinary reader, and not likely to be known except to the professional student. There seemed to be a gap here which ought to be filled, which is all that this Essay attempts.

If it has been well done, a good service will have been rendered to many pastors who, like the writer of these lines, have often wished for a compact and clear exposition of these points; which might be placed in the hands of many, besides the perversely sceptical, who are troubled with doubts which they are unable to resolve. If this unpretending effort fails to accomplish this end, it may fulfil the humbler mission of stimulating some abler pen to achieve that in which it has failed.

Part First. Prayer In Natural Religion.

CHAPTER I.

A complete definition of prayer is obtained by combining the two answers of the Larger and Shorter Catechisms, thus: "Prayer is an offering up of our desires unto God for tilings agreeable to Ms will, in the name of Christ, "by the help of his Spirit, with confession of our sins and thankful acknowledgment of his mercies." The clauses italicized above are the only two which are not found in both; for it is a little singiilar that, whilst otherwise identical, there should be in each the omission of an element necessary to the completeness of the idea, which the other exactly supplies. The Shorter Catechism, for example, limits the objects of true prayer to things agreeable to the divine will; whilst the Larger Catechism brings distinctly into view the agency of the Holy Ghost in the inditing of our petitions. It may be true that Avhat is omitted in each is nevertheless taught by necessary implication. We cannot, for instance, offer up our desires to God, except " for things agreeable to his will," without being guilty of a presumption which shall vitiate the worship; and we cannot intelligently pray "in the name of Christ," without a reliance upon "the other Comforter," who "brings to our remembrance whatsoever he hath said." Nevertheless, a definition is formally incomplete which does not specify everything essential to that which is defined. The Westminster divines practically admit this by adding to the definition in one place what they omit in the other; which is, therefore, rendered perfect only when the two statements are united.

In this language prayer is represented as worship, in terms borrowed from the ancient Hebrew ritual. As the pious Jew of old approached God always through sacrifice, offering the firstlings of his flock upon the altar, so here the worshipper offers up " the calves of his lips" with adoration unto God. But all worship must be regulated by the divine will; hence these prayers can be accepted only when offered for things agreeable thereto. Again, this worship is presented to the Father through the mediation of the Son, who, as the High Priest, intercedes for us before the throne; which is to pray "in the name of Christ." Since "we know not what we should pray for as we ought, the Spirit helpeth our infirmities"; and this is to pray "by the help of his Spirit." Finally, as this is the worship of sinful and dependent creatures, prayer must include "the confession of our sins" and "the thankful acknowledgment of God's mercies." The exposition of these clauses, therefore, would carry us into the whole subject of prayer, and would leave no part unconsidered.

A different line of inquiry, however, is now proposed—to resolve the complex idea of prayer into its original and most simple elements, which combined will embrace all that it contains. In the last analysis, then, what is prayer but the language of creaturely dependence upon that God from whom being itself is derived? We are accustomed to dilate fondly upon the dignity of man, in the grandeur of his intellectual powers, in the indefinite expansion of Avhich these are capable, and in the wonderful achievements which they have wrought. We know not what may be the joy of angels amidst the disclosures of the upper world; but we do know the joy of interpreting the works of God, as science walks behind the Creator into the secret chambers of his poAver, and breathes into her song the earliest and softest whispers of his voice. What are these grand epics of scientific disclosure but an apocalypse of the Deity to man? in view of which we exclaim :

'' How voided his vast distance from the skies !

How near lie presses on the Seraph's wing !

Is this extravagant? Of man we form

Extravagant conceptions, to be just:

Conception unconfined wants wings to reach him;

Beyond its reach, the Godhead only more."

But when all this has been put together, and we have reached the utmost height of our ideal, we must come back to the mortifying truth, that man is still a creature locked up within limits which he cannot pass. Hunger and fatigue oppress the body. Even great Csesar must cry—

'' Give me some drink, Titinius, As a sick girl."

The mind, too, in every path of knowledge, strikes against barriers that oppose further progress. In very answers which nature returns to our questioning lie deeper secrets to be explored. The spiritual within us which would know the Infinite, falls back in the faintness of exhaustion to the finite and conditioned; as the eagle, which would soar into the sun, must return to its eyrie on the mountain rock. So extreme is man's dependence, that the strongest often lie upon the bosom of the weakest; that by the refreshment of sympathy they may gather up their defeated energies to renew the battle of life. In this double view of the greatness and weakness of man, the apostrophe of the poet is fully justified:

"How poor, how rich—how abject, how august—

How complicate, how wonderful is man !

Dim miniature of greatness absolute !

An heir of glory ! A frail child of dust!

Helpless immortal! Insect infinite !

A worm ! A god ! I tremble at myself,

And in myself am lost.''

This consciousness of dependence finds its only full expression in prayer; we lean upon God, and are at rest. It may pour itself forth with a pathos that stirs the heart of sympathy, or despair may muffle "the groan-ings which cannot be uttered"; in either case the intelligent recognition of creature-helplessness leaning upon divine power is the kneeling posture of the soul in prayer. It is the thirst of ignorance drinking deep draughts from the overflowing fulness of divine wisdom. It is the exhaustion of weakness drawing nerve into a broken will from the resources of infinite strength. This is prayer: when, sinking through the earthly crust, the creature seeks repose in God; when from the eternal fountain he derives the help and solace which the creature always needs, and which the Creator alone can supply.

Man's true nature is to be sought in that image of God in which he was first created. In his earthly part he is akin to the beasts that perish; but he is distinguished from these in that God "breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living soul." Solomon draws the line between the two when he speaks of " the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth." Upon this soul is stamped the seal of the divine attributes. In his intelligence man dimly reflects the divine wisdom; in his affections, the divine benevolence ; in his conscience, the divine rectitude; in his will, the divine power. Such a being can find his true sphere only in God. All these endowments point to that august source from which they are derived, as the only goal to which they can aspire; and the comprehensive act in which they all embark is the homage of an intelligent and eternal worship. To this end was man invested with "dominion over the works of God's hands," that, as the priest of nature, he might walk through the aisles of her vast cathedral, and lead the whole choir of earth in chants of thanksgiving and joy. It is his office to gather the inarticulate praises of this dumb world into his censer, investing them with his own intelligence and thought, and lighting them at the fire of his own devotion; and then, as the voice of nature, to pour the flood of praise forever upon him who has created all for his own glory.

As before intimated, man's mental and moral structure adapts him to this majestic function. His reason, which can hold discourse of God; his heart, which glows with the ardor of a seraph; and the easy connection between the two, by which thought glides into feeling, and feeling into frames of devotion, all fit him to be a worshipper in the temple of Jehovah. His memory and hope, which bind together the past and the future like two vast continents; his instinct of ambition and longing for immortality, which turn wearily away from sensual rewards to the prizes of eternity; the conscience, which sits upon its hidden throne, the arbiter of right; the depths of reverence and awe within him resounding with the echoes of the spiritual and divine: all these make him a worshipper, though it should be only in the silence and solitude of his own thought; whilst, again, his amazing constructive power in building up systems of truth, and his kingly relations to the world which has been placed under his dominion, designate him as the organ of that homage which is due to the Creator's supremacy.

But how shall man worship the infinite Jehovah without assuming the posture of prayer? Even the seraphim veil their faces as they unite in the triune chorus, " Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God of hosts." Shall not man draw the mantle over his head Avhilst with Abraham he exclaims, "Behold, now, I have taken upon me to speak with the Lord, which am but dust and ashes"? This prostration of the soul in humility before God is essentially prayer. It is an acknowledgment, in the very frame of the spirit, that the great and dreadful God stands in amazing contrast with the feebleness of the creature; who, therefore, abases himself before the majesty which it is yet his joy to approach. This, then, is a further step in the analysis of prayer; which is not only the expression of a creature's dependence upon God, but also the soul's intelligent homage rendered to his infinite perfections. But if man has fallen from his original state of innocence, and is now under condemnation of law, then prayer takes on a new feature as the confession of sin, and becomes the language of guilt. However we may recoil from the acknowledgment, it is universal under the pressure of an accusing conscience. All the religions of earth, save Christianity alone, are religions of fear. There is scarcely a mountain-top upon which the blood of victims has not smoked upon altars dedicated to some avenging deity. The troubled confession breaks forth in a thousand forms in daily life. In sudden peril there is a mysterious unveiling of sins which, before that dismal hour, conscience had not seemed to note. At death, when eternity throws its shadow upon the soul, the spectres of the past rise as the witnesses of our guilt, and crowd with us across the bourne. Nay, long before this last experience, there are pauses in every man's life, when a great hush is thrown upon the soul, as the law smites with the edge of its sword. Under the crushing weight of his guilt, the penitent exclaims with the publican in the court of the temple, " God, be merciful to me, a sinner!" This, again, is prayer; not, as before, the simple recognition of dependence upon sovereign power, nor as the homage paid to infinite perfection; it has now gone into depths far gloomier than mere sense of insufficiency and weakness. It has become the wail of a soul burdened with its guilt, and casting itself upon _the mercy of God for pardon. This is prayer; not simply asking for blessings which shall fill the measure of its need, but bewailing the sin which is strangling the soul with its serpent coil, and seeking deliverance from its hideous embrace.