| TENTH LESSON. |
| 'What wilt thou?' Or, Prayer must be Definite. |
'And Jesus answered him, and said, What wilt thou that I should do unto
thee?'--MARK x. 51; LUKE xviii. 41.
THE blind man had been
crying out aloud, and that a great deal, 'Thou Son of David, have mercy on me.'
The cry had reached the ear of the Lord; He knew what he wanted, and was ready
to grant it him. But ere He does it, He asks him: 'What wilt thou that
I should do unto thee?' He wants to hear from his own lips, not only the
general petition for mercy, but the distinct expression of what his desire was.
Until he speaks it out, he is not healed.
There is now still many a suppliant to whom the Lord puts the same question, and
who cannot, until it has been answered, get the aid he ask. Our prayers must
not be a vague appeal to His mercy, an indefinite cry for blessing, but the
distinct expression of definite need. Not that His loving heart does not
understand our cry, or is not ready to hear. But He desires it for our own
sakes. Such definite prayer teaches us to know our own needs better. It
demands time, and thought, and self-scrutiny to find out what really is our
greatest need. It searches us and puts us to the test as to whether our desires
are honest and real, such as we are ready to persevere in. It leads us to judge
whether our desires are according to God's Word, and whether we really believe
that we shall receive the things we ask. It helps us to wait for the special
answer, and to mark it when it comes.
And yet how much of our prayer is vague and pointless. Some cry for mercy, but
take not the trouble to know what mercy must do for them. Others ask, perhaps,
to be delivered from sin, but do not begin by bringing any sin by name from
which the deliverance may be claimed. Still others pray for God's blessing on
those around them, for the outpouring of God's Spirit on their land or the
world, and yet have no special field where they wait and expect to see the
answer. To all the Lord says: And what is it now you really want and expect Me
to do? Every Christian has but limited powers, and as he must have his own
special field of labour in which he works, so with his prayers too. Each
believer has his own circle, his family, his friends, his neighbours. If he
were to take one or more of these by name, he would find that this really brings
him into the training-school of faith, and leads to personal and pointed dealing
with his God. It is when in such distinct matters we have in faith claimed and
received answers, that our more general prayers will be believing and effectual.
We all know with what surprise the whole civilised world heard of the way in
which trained troops were repulsed by the Transvaal Boers at Majuba. And to
what did they owe their success? In the armies of Europe the soldier fires upon
the enemy standing in large masses, and never thinks of seeking an aim for every
bullet. In hunting game the Boer had learnt a different lesson: his practised
eye knew to send every bullet on its special message, to seek and find its man.
Such aiming must gain the day in the spiritual world too. As long as in prayer
we just pour out our hearts in a multitude of petitions, without taking time to
see whether every petition is sent with the purpose and expectation of getting
an answer, not many will reach the mark. But if, as in silence of soul we bow
before the Lord, we were to ask such questions as these: What is now really my
desire? do I desire it in faith, expecting to receive? am I now ready to place
and leave it in the Father's bosom? is it a settled thing between God and me
that I am to have the answer? we should learn so to pray that God would see and
we would know what we really expect.
It is for this, among other reasons, that the Lord warns us against the vain
repetitions of the Gentiles, who think to be heard for their much praying. We
often hear prayers of great earnestness and fervour, in which a multitude of
petitions are poured forth, but to which the Saviour would undoubtedly answer
'What wilt thou that I should do unto thee?' If I am in a strange land, in the
interests of the business which my father owns, I would certainly write two
different sorts of letters. There will be family letters giving expression to
all the intercourse to which affection prompts; and there will be business
letters, containing orders for what I need. And there may be letters in which
both are found. The answers will correspond to the letters. To each sentence
of the letters containing the family news I do not expect a special answer. But
for each order I send I am confident of an answer whether the desired article
has been forwarded. In our dealings with God the business element must not be
wanting. With our expression of need and sin, of love and faith and
consecration, there must be the pointed statement of what we ask and expect to
receive; it is in the answer that the Father loves to give us the token of His
approval and acceptance.
But the word of the Master teaches us more. He does not say, What dost thou
wish? but, What does thou will? One often wishes for a thing without
willing it. I wish to have a certain article, but I find the price too
high; I resolve not to take it; I wish, but do not will to have
it. The sluggard wishes to be rich, but does not will it. Many a one wishes to
be saved, but perishes because he does not will it. The will rules the whole
heart and life; if I really will to have anything that is within my reach, I do
not rest till I have it. And so, when Jesus says to us, 'What wilt thou?' He
asks whether it is indeed our purpose to have what we ask at any price, however
great the sacrifice. Dost thou indeed so will to have it that, though He delay
it long, thou dost not hold thy peace till He hear thee? Alas! how many prayers
are wishes, sent up for a short time and then forgotten, or sent up year after
year as matter of duty, while we rest content with the prayer without the
answer.
But, it may be asked, is it not best to make our wishes known to God, and then
to leave it to Him to decide what is best, without seeking to assert our will?
By no means. This is the very essence of the prayer of faith, to which Jesus
sought to train His disciples, that it does not only make known its desire and
then leave the decision to God. That would be the prayer of submission, for
cases in which we cannot know God's will. But the prayer of faith, finding
God's will in some promise of the Word, pleads for that till it come. In
Matthew (ix. 28) we read Jesus said to the blind man: 'Believe ye that I
can do this?' Here, in Mark, He says: 'What wilt thou that I should
do?' In both cases He said that faith had saved them. And so He said to the
Syrophenician woman, too: 'Great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as
thou wilt.' Faith is nothing but the purpose of the will resting on
God's word, and saying: I must have it. To believe truly is to will firmly.
But is not such a will at variance with our dependence on God and our submission
to Him? By no means; it is much rather the true submission that honours God.
It is only when the child has yielded his own will in entire surrender to the
Father, that he receives from the Father liberty and power to will what he would
have. But, when once the believer has accepted the will of God, as revealed
through the Word and Spirit, as his will, too, then it is the will of God that
His child should use this renewed will in His service. The will is the highest
power in the soul; grace wants above everything to sanctify and restore this
will, one of the chief traits of God's image, to full and free exercise. As a
son, who only lives for his father's interests, who seeks not his own but his
father's will is trusted by the father with his business, so God speaks to His
child in all truth, 'What wilt thou?' It is often spiritual sloth that, under
the appearance of humility, professes to have no will, because it fears the
trouble of searching out the will of God, or, when found, the struggle of
claiming it in faith. True humility is ever in company with strong faith, which
only seeks to know what is according to the will of God, and then boldly claims
the fulfilment of the promise: 'Ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall
be done unto you.'
Lord Jesus! teach me to pray with all my heart and strength, that there may be
no doubt with Thee or with me as to what I have asked. May I so know what I
desire that, even as my petitions are recorded in heaven, I can record them on
earth too, and note each answer as it comes. And may my faith in what Thy Word
has promised be so clear that the Spirit may indeed work in me the liberty to
will that it shall come. Lord! renew, strengthen, sanctify wholly my will for
the work of effectual prayer.
Blessed Saviour! I do beseech Thee to reveal to me the wonderful condescension
Thou showest us, thus asking us to say what we will that Thou shouldest do, and
promising to do whatever we will. Son of God! I cannot understand it; I can
only believe that Thou hast indeed redeemed us wholly for Thyself, and dost seek
to make the will, as our noblest part, Thy most efficient servant. Lord! I do
most unreservedly yield my will to Thee, as the power through which Thy Spirit
is to rule my whole being. Let Him take possession of it, lead it into the
truth of Thy promises, and make it so strong in prayer that I may ever hear Thy
voice saying: 'Great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt.' Amen.
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With Christ in the School of Prayer by Andrew Murray - Public Domain
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