  When our feelings are deeply stirred by a crisis it is the most natural thing to turn to God in prayer. Such an acknowledgment of the divine resourcefulness in the face of human helplessness advertises the inherent dignity of man, who finds that he is best able to overcome difficulties by reliance upon God. Any person who is able to make such a contact with the Source of Power through prayer is well equipped for the tasks of life. It is the filial spirit which inspires the tone and quality of prayer, whereby we receive spiritual insight and moral strength for duty. It has been well said that “prayer is the discipline of desire in the light of the best consciousness of God that we can attain unto.” We must recover this practice of prayer for right living. It will reinforce us with virtue and vitality to keep true to our best selves and fit us to meet every demand. It is in actual experience and not by mere theorizing that we find out the real efficacy of prayer. Bishop Edwin H. Hughes, in The Pastor Looks at His Work, Hymns Are Prayers“A little while ago I was in a service where a minister of no little eminence was suddenly called on to pray. His response was simply the repeating of the entire hymn, whose first stanza reads: ‘My faith looks up to Thee, Thou Lamb of Calvary, Saviour Divine! Now hear me while I pray, Take all my guilt away, Oh, let me from this day Be wholly Thine!’ If one man’s experience was typical, that individual hymn with its ‘I’ and ‘My’ brought scores of people into a spiritual aggregate and made a ‘common supplication.’ “Much of the same thing happened in the bishops’ meeting not so long ago. We were having a prayer service, only that, and it must have continued for two and a half hours. One bishop’s prayer that night was simply a repeating of Whittier’s hymn: ‘Dear Lord and Father of mankind, Forgive our feverish ways; Reclothe us in our rightful mind, In purer lives Thy service find, In deeper reverence, praise.’ As we were all on our knees we were led to treat that hymn as a public prayer; and it was at once an inspiring and exalting thing. Our services would be enriched beyond measure if only this spirit of prayer could be more definitely attached to the songs of our corporate worship.” Here is a personal testimony from Fanny Crosby concerning The Constant Companion of the Pilgrim Journey“Toward the close of a day in the year 1874, I was sitting in my room thinking of the nearness of God through Christ as the constant companion of the pilgrim journey, when my heart burst out with the words: ‘Thou my everlasting portion, More than friend or life to me, All along my pilgrim journey, Saviour, let me walk with Thee.’” How prayer is the inevitable opening for guidance is finely illustrated in the circumstances which resulted in the writing of “Lead, Kindly Light”This well-known hymn was written by John Henry Newman when, as a young clergyman of the Anglican Church, he lay sick and troubled in a vessel which was becalmed in the Gulf of Palermo. He was restless to return to England and perplexed concerning the future. His feelings were expressed on the afternoon of June 16, 1833, in this prayer for guidance. The well-known tune, “Lux Benigna,” to which it is usually sung, was composed in 1865 by Dr. J. B. Dykes as he walked through the crowded Strand in London. It was done in ten minutes in what might seem to have been an unfavorable place, and yet faith shows its power in overcoming distractions and difficulties, as was done by this musician. The author of this hymn later entered the Roman Catholic Church. He is best known as Cardinal Newman but none of his writings, not even Here is an experience about An Eventide PrayerA minister of long service and extensive travel went into the church of a denomination other than that to which he belonged when away from home, for evening worship. He was deeply impressed when the pastor offered as the evening prayer some stanzas from a hymn: “At even, ere the sun was set, The sick, O Lord, around Thee lay; O in what divers pain they met! O with what joy they went away! Once more ’tis eventide, and we, Oppressed with various ills, draw near; What if Thy form we cannot see? We know and feel that Thou are here. O Saviour Christ, our woes dispel; For some are sick, and some are sad, And some have never loved Thee well, And some have lost the love they had. . . . . . . . . . Thy touch has still its ancient power, No word from Thee can fruitless fall; Hear in this solemn evening hour, And in Thy mercy heal us all.” No words other than those of the hymn were spoken; but the visiting minister affirmed that he never heard a more appropriate or appealing prayer. How calmness and poise are obtained are related in an experience “Through the Long Night Watches”A minister was once confined to bed by sickness. When Sunday came he could hear the hymns which the congregation sang, for the parsonage adjoined the church. Evening found him feverish and restless, “Now the day is over, Night is drawing nigh; Shadows of the evening Steal across the sky; Jesus, grant the weary Calm and sweet repose; With Thy tenderest blessing May our eyelids close. . . . . . . . . . Through the long night watches May Thine angels spread Their white wings above me, Watching round my bed.” The next Sunday morning the minister was back in his pulpit, and with a spirit of gratitude announced the hymn: “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty! Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee; Holy, holy, holy, merciful and mighty, God in Three Persons, blessed Trinity.” How there was a change for the better during a sickness is revealed in this account: “Why, That’s For Me”A minister’s wife with whom I am well acquainted has told of the time when her only sister lay on a bed of pain in a hospital in one of the suburbs of Chicago. Her father and mother, being sent for, reached the bedside at nightfall. A brief interview was permitted. The father, bending low above his girl, heard her faintly say, “Oh, Dad, I’ve lost my grip.” Great anxiety, therefore, was on his mind as he left the room. Fearing the answer he might receive, yet hungering for news, the father telephoned as early the next morning as he dared. “How is the girl today?” was his agonized question. “Holding her own. In fact, she has made slight progress through the night,” was the glad and astonishing answer. Father and mother, therefore, soon hastened to the hospital. There they learned that the daughter’s recovery was now a possibility. Later the parents learned the cause of the happy change. A window had been opened by a nurse, and there came through it to the accompaniment of a piano a clear baritone voice singing: “What a Friend we have in Jesus!” “Why, that’s for me,” whispered the sufferer, as she heard the words: “Are we weak and heavy laden, Cumbered with a load of care? Precious Saviour, still our refuge, Take it to the Lord in prayer.” Restful assurance was expressed in the closing lines: “In His arms He’ll take and shield thee, Thou wilt find a solace there.” Making the words her prayer, by asking Christ to take and shield her, she turned her face to the wall and the first natural sleep for weeks followed. From that hour her recovery began. Harriet Beecher Stowe awoke one morning to find herself famous as the author of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. The excellent reception given this book was gratifying, but more than anything else was The Satisfying Consciousness of God’s PresenceShe wrote her husband at this time, from the home of her brother, Henry Ward Beecher, that “Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh, When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee; Fairer than morning, lovelier than daylight, Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee. . . . . . . . . . Still, still with Thee! As to each newborn morning A fresh and solemn splendor still is given, So does this blessed consciousness, awaking, Breathe each day nearness unto Thee and heaven.” What the divine presence means is strikingly seen where a man in danger was able to pray and to realize that he was Not AloneSeven men were buried beneath thousands of tons of rocks which fell without a moment’s warning in a Cornish tin mine early in the twentieth century. Willing hands immediately began the work of rescue, though all despaired of finding anyone alive. Their worst fears, however, were not realized. One man was found a little distance from his comrades, and was uninjured. The rocks had formed an arch over him. Encouraged by finding this one miner, those who were engaged in the work of rescue called loudly to ascertain if any others were alive and able to speak. One man answered. He was an active Christian, and Sunday School superintendent. “Are you alone?” he was asked. The questioner, of course, was thinking of his fellow laborers. “No; Christ is with me,” was the reply. “Are you injured?” was the next question. “Yes,” answered the imprisoned man, “my legs are held fast by something.” Those engaged in the conversation were then greatly surprised as they heard this man, who often sang when descending to and ascending from his daily task, now begin to sing in a feeble voice: “Abide with me! Fast falls the eventide; The darkness deepens—Lord, with me abide! When other helpers fail and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me.” They heard no more from him. Two days later he was found with his legs crushed by a huge rock which rested on them. Both his life and his last words of song, however, gave the assurance that he had gone to be “forever with the Lord.” |
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