صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

SERMON IV.

ON THE LORD'S PRAYER.

LUKE xi. 2.

"And he said unto them, When ye pray, say thus :"

In the preceding discourse from these words, I submitted to the young of our people, some observations on the spirit and character of our Lord's celebrated prayer, and on the dispositions of mind which it supposes in the worshipper.

The part of it I then considered was only its opening or commencement;-that simple but sublime form of address with which it teaches us to approach the throne of God, and in which are involved all the mightiest conceptions we can form of the Divine Nature.

After this majestick opening, and all the high convictions it involves, our Saviour proceeds to prescribe the model of the petitions which it becomes us to present to that Mighty Father. We have prostrated ourselves before the Throne of Eternity, and we are now to be taught what are the wishes, the supplications, or the prayers

which we are to offer to " Him that inhabiteth it." In this respect, my brethren, or, at least, in the arrangement of these petitions, there is something very remarkable and peculiar, and which distinguishes our daily prayer from every other form of human worship.

There is a natural tendency to selfishness in all unenlightened devotion. It is in the hours only of trouble, or of fear, that men in general approach unto God and it is the tumultuous expression of their own wishes or wants which chiefly forms their selfish communion with Heaven. It is not the Father of universal Nature they address, but the private Deity whose favours they beseech; and they rise from their knees without bestowing a wish or prayer for their brethren; and they return into the world without feeling their charity awakened, or their humanity increased.

It is with far higher and holier views that the prayer of the Gospel opens. The petitions it first prescribes are all general. It is the great family of nature for whom we are first taught to address our common Father; and ere we are permitted to offer up one prayer for ourselves, it is the Parent of Being whom we are enjoined to supplicate for the welfare of his creation. Instead of rushing into his presence with our own selfish and short-sighted requests, we,

and all our concerns, are as it were annihilated in the splendour of his presence; and it is not until we have bowed before him as the universal God, that we are emboldened to hope that he will listen to the "still small voice" of private supplication.

Singular as this arrangement of our petitions may appear, and unprecedented as it certainly is in the history of human devotion, it is yet, at the same time, perfectly natural to the truly pious heart. If in any

fortunate moment we can raise ourselves to that height of devotion which corresponds to the lofty privilege of addressing ourselves to our Father who is in heaven,if our hearts are truly penetrated with the majesty of the Presence in which we stand, and the holiness of that Being whom we approach, we shall, without any effort, forget ourselves and the littleness of our own concerns. It is God alone who will then be present to our thoughts. It is the brightness of his glory, the infinity of his perfections, and the beneficence of his rule, which will then fill up all our contemplation; and it is in such a moment we shall feel all that the Psalmist means, when he says, "Whom have I in heaven but Thee, "and what is there on earth that I desire "besides Thee?"

In such a frame of mind, the first words which it is natural for us to pronounce are

these, "Hallowed be Thy name!" It is the first, and almost instinctive expression of grateful adoration. It is thankfulness for being permitted to enter within the veil of the sanctuary, and to see God as he is. It is, still more, the generous wish, that all men may experience the same holy joy ;that the eyes of all may be uplifted with the same gratitude, to the Father of Nature, and that the whole family of God may be united in the first tie of affection,that of love and thankfulness to Him that made them.

2. In such a frame of mind, and with such impressions, the second petition of our prayer is equally natural: "Thy kingdom "come."Whenever it is that we retire into solitude to seek communion with God, we retire from a world, which is full of ignorance and imperfection; where all of us have wants, and doubts, and distresses of our own; and where, every where around us, we see the same sorrows and the same infirmity. When we are withdrawn from such a world, and when we are contemplating the mighty providence of God, how natural is it for us to pray that his "king"dom may come ;" that kingdom in which there is" knowledge, and wisdom, and joy;"-that reign which shall dispel all doubts, and relieve all wants, and dry up all tears. And how insensibly do we close

66

VOL. II.

5 *

bed by him who alone knew him, and whe could reveal him unto us. With how much

holy confidence may we not now return into the world! That world is his world. Over every path His eye is present; in path_His every obscurity He can see; amid every distress He can relieve. Whatever may be the part which we are called to act, it is his will which has determined it. Whatever may be the labours we are summoned to perform, that paternal eye which "seeth "in secret," is awaiting on one greater day"to reward openly.'

2. How naturally, in the second place, is such frame of mind productive of benevolence and good will towards men! We have prayed, not with the selfishness of unenlightened men, but with the wide humanity of Christian piety, for the world which we inhabit,-that the moral kingdom of its Author may come, and that the dominion of "his will" may diffuse truth and joy over every habitation of man. Is it possible, my brethren (if we have prayed in earnest,) that we can rise from our knees without feeling our charity exalted, and our benevolence increased? We have been admitted into the councils of God; and we see them all tending to the improvement and happiness of man. We are now returning into a world where there is much ignorance, much imperfection, and much

« السابقةمتابعة »