INTRODUCTION
Benjamin Morgan Palmer (1818-1902) was an exemplary Southern Presbyterian pastor and preacher.[1] His warmth and sincerity are evident to anyone who reads his books, sermons, and letters. Pastors (such as myself), who admire his infectious example and shining legacy, secretly ask ourselves: 'How can I have a ministry like Palmer? How can I model what he modeled? Where and how do I 'get' what Palmer had?' I think if Palmer were still alive today, he would humbly respond to my inquires by asking a set of questions. I could almost hear him ask, "Young pastor, how is your prayer life? What is your view of prayer and what is your view of God?"
You see, Palmer was a mighty shepherd of God because he was a mighty man of prayer. He understood the seriousness of prayer, and that a disposition of prayer for the Christian, and especially the pastor, is essential for godliness. This understanding of the nature of prayer, and the love of prayer, is evident in Palmer's life and ministry. By looking at some insights from the first chapter in his book, The Theology of Prayer,[2] it is my hope that readers will fall in love again with this Christian privilege and duty and would heed the call to action evident in Palmer's writing: Renew your prayer life today! Do not waste any more time. Commit to prayer because you love God and want to be like the Lord Jesus Christ.
WHAT IS PRAYER?
Palmer begins his explanation on the nature of prayer by turning to the Westminster Larger and Shorter Catechisms. One thing is unmistakable about Palmer’s theology, and that is his firm commitment to the Westminster standards. He was confessional through and through. This means that whenever it comes to defining some doctrine of Scripture, such as prayer, he always felt it safe and right to lean on the summary articulated by the Westminster Confession of Faith and Catechisms. Palmer understood what more ministers need to understand today, especially in the Presbyterian Church in America (of which Palmer is a forefather): we need more of the Confession and Catechisms, not less. This becomes especially clear in the summary on the nature of prayer provided by both the Larger and Shorter Catechisms, which, when taken together, Palmer refers to as a “perfect” and “complete definition of prayer”[3] The peculiarities of each Catechism are italicized.
Westminster Shorter Catechism Q&A 98:
Q. 98. What is prayer?
A. Prayer is an offering up of our desires unto God, for things agreeable to his will, in the name of Christ, with confession of our sins, and thankful acknowledgment of his mercies.
Westminster Larger Catechism Q&A 178:
Q. What is Prayer?
A. Prayer is an offering up of our desires unto God, in the name of Christ, by the help of his Spirit; with confession of our sins, and thankful acknowledgment of his mercies.
We Must Pray According to God’s Will
Palmer notes the excellency of these two summaries. In the Shorter Catechism, we see that the objects of true prayer are, in a sense, limited. They are limited to things “agreeable to the divine will,”[4] This is something that all Christians need to understand about prayer, and especially our posture in prayer toward God. We ought not ask for things agreeable to our will. Why? Because “we do not know how to pray as we should” (Rom. 8:26). Whether because of weakness or sin, our will is often clouded. The Westminster divines understood, and Palmer understood, and we should understand, that the Bible teaches God’s supremacy and sovereignty over all things, and therefore his will is perfect. If we believe this, we will desire what God desires and ask for his will to be done in our lives. Palmer adds,
“We cannot … offer up our desires to God, except “for things agreeable to his will” without being guilty of presumption which shall vitiate [spoil/impair] the worship [of God],”[5]
Jesus certainly modeled this as he prayed to the Father, “Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” (Matt. 6:10b). The Apostle John says that as we pray to the Father, through Christ, we have confidence. Why? Because, “if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us,” (1 Jn. 5:14, emphasis mine).
We Must Pray with the Help of the Holy Spirit
Palmer also stresses the significance of the Larger Catechism’s emphasis on the work of the Holy Spirit in prayer. He notes that the Catechism, “brings distinctly into view the agency of the Holy Ghost in the inditing [composing/put thoughts into words] of our petitions,” Just as we ought not pray according to our own will because “we do not know how to pray as we should,” so too we need the Holy Spirit who “helps us in our weakness” and “intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words” (Rom. 8:26). Indeed, as Palmer writes, “We cannot intelligently pray “in the name of Christ,” without reliance upon “the other Comforter,” who “brings to our remembrance whatsoever he hath said.”
Palmer mentions an additional aspect of prayer that many Christians forget, and which the Catechism answers above demonstrate. Prayer is worship. Though prayer is certainly no less than communication and communion with the true and living God as our heavenly Father, very often, prayer can be reduced to a self-absorbed conversation. One Christian author has even gone so far as to write that, “The first step in faith is to stop thinking about God at the time of prayer.”[6]Palmer warns against this erroneous suggestion by reminding us that indeed, prayer is all about God and being consumed with Him in worship. Each point of the Larger and Shorter Catechism answers proves that prayer is worship. How do we see this? Palmer further explains,
In this language [of the Catechisms] 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."
WHAT PRAYER TEACHES US
Prayer Teaches That We Are Utterly Dependent Upon God
Taking his cues from the Westminster Larger and Shorter Catechisms again, Palmer reminds us that in prayer, we get a fresh reminder about who we are: helpless on our own, and dependent upon God for everything. We are reminded that we are not our own but are created and redeemed by Him who “before the mountains were brought forth, or ever the earth was formed” is the everlasting God (Ps. 90:2). I will conclude this article with a lengthy, but beautifully written paragraph by Palmer:
In the last analysis, what is prayer but the language of creaturely dependence upon that God from whom being itself is derived? We are accustomed to dilate [expand] fondly upon the dignity of man, in the grandeur of his intellectual powers, in the indefinite expansion of which 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 power, 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 he 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."[7]
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 Cæsar must cry—
“‘Give me some drink, Titinius,’ as a sick girl."[8]
The mind, too, in every path of knowledge, strikes against barriers that oppose further progress. In the 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 complicated, 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."[9]
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 groanings 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.
This consciousness of dependence finds its only full expression in prayer; we lean upon God, and are at rest.
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.[10]
[1] Douglas Kelly, Preachers with Power: Four Stalwarts of the South, (Edinburgh: The Banner of Truth Trust, 1992), 96-118.
[2] Benjamin Morgan Palmer, Theology of Prayer As Viewed in the Religion of Nature and in the System of Grace (1894, repr. Harrisonburg, VA: Sprinkle Publications, 1980).
[3] Theology of Prayer, 13, 14.
[4] Theology of Prayer, 13.
[5] Theology of Prayer, 13.
[6] Brennan Manning, The Signature of Jesus: The Call to a Life Marked by Holy Passion and Relentless Faith (Sisters, OR: Multnomah Publishers, 2004), 212.
[7] Palmer does not give a citation here, but this seems to be excerpted from the Poet Edward Young (c. 1683-1765) in his Poem “Night IV: The Christian Triumph” from The Complaint: or, Night-Thoughts on Life, Death, and Immortality.
[8] No citation provided by Palmer, but this quote comes from Shakespeare’s Julius Caeser, where Cassius is persuading Brutus that Julius Caeser is but a weak and mortal man, not an immortal god.
[9] Excerpted again from Edward Young’s Night-Thoughts.
[10] Theology of Prayer, 15-17.
