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FAMILY PRAYER

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Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · June 3, 1880

FromThe Advent Review and Sabbath Herald, Vol. 55, No. 23

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FAMILY PRAYER.

Compass the roof with the balustrade of Family Prayer. This is an important battlement. God hath set the solitary in families. He has instituted the family relation; and the relation carries with it the duty of instruction and worship. This is the oldest organization; and family worship is of ancient and divine origin. Behold the family altar builded by Noah! Remember that when Abraham built a tent for himself he built an altar for his God. We never read that Lot built an altar; no wonder that he looks toward Sodom, and then is soon found in Sodom. When Isaac and his servants pitch their tent and dig a well, they build their altar. Listen to the grand resolution of Joshua, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord!” Oh, for more Joshuas and Hannahs as heads of families! The New Testament and the early history of the church contain many similar examples. I cannot in this connection go at length into the duty and advantages of family prayer and religion; many of these advantages suggest themselves at once. You have observed that family life is often the best test of genuine piety. Bunyan’s Christian makes Talkative a saint abroad and a devil at home. It is on record that when Mr. Whitefield was asked whether some one was a Christian, his reply was, “How can I tell? I have never lived with him.”
It is to be feared that in the rush and bustle of our modern life the old-fashioned methods of family instruction and prayer, when all the family and servants were called together, are now much neglected. The Jewish law made the father a prophet and priest in his own family; at the paschal feast he slew the lamb, he sprinkled the blood on the lintels of the door; he also taught the statutes of the Lord to his children and servants. Philip Henry, in his family circle expounding to them the word of God, reminds us of one of those grand men of olden time. Much to be pitied is that home where the voice of prayer is never heard. It is a roof without a battlement, exposed to danger and death; it is a house without a roof, into which the storms of temptation shall fall, and on which the sun of trial will beat with scorching ray. John Randolph said that men charged him with being a French infidel; he denied the charge, but confessed that he would have been one if he had not been taught to bow at his mother’s knee and say, “Our Father.”
Every day should begin with prayer. Let us talk to God before we talk much to men. Begin every duty, decide every question, with prayer. It is said that Pericles, the great Athenian statesman, would not address an audience until he had prayed to the gods; and that Scipio, the Roman General, would not undertake any affair of importance until he had passed some time alone in the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. The examples of Paul and Christ are still more in point. Remember how earnestly Jesus prayed before entering on his great undertakings! Read the gospels with that thought in mind. Where will you find such an example of prolonged, fervent, and trusting prayer? Remember Paul’s requests for prayer; remember also his own references to his habits of prayer. Do you say you have no time? Excuse me, you have. What is time for, but to serve God here and to enjoy him hereafter? David found time amid his manifold cares and great responsibilities; Daniel found time when he was prime minister in Babylon; Luther used to say, when his gigantic toils pressed upon him, that he could not get on with less than three hours of prayer; Gen. Havelock rose, it is said, at four, when the hour of marching was six, rather than lose the period of prayer and communion with God. No time! Do not say that. You know you have.
Do you say you cannot pray? Stop a little; you can. What is prayer? Eloquence is not needed; the publican’s prayer sent him down to his house justified. It is the pastor’s duty to press home this neglected privilege. I have read that when Richard Baxter went to Kidderminster, there were whole streets in which there were only two or three praying families; and that when he left, there were whole streets in which there were only two or three families that were not praying families. His influence pervaded the town; he canvassed its houses; family altars were built, and the voice of prayer and praise girdled the town and went up acceptably into the ear of God. The papers have reported that President Hayes, in the White House, meets his family morning by morning for family worship; together they read a portion of Scripture, and then kneeling together they repeat the Lord’s Prayer. I am glad he does this much; I wish he did more. Who can tell what an advantage this is to him and the nation? Amid all the excitements of the times, he has gone with clearness of head and cleanness of hand; and when the passions of the hour have subsided, he will take his place in history as one of the best of men and ablest of Presidents. God be thanked for the influence of his Christian wife! May the voice of prayer never be silenced in the White House!
Make the hour of family worship the most joyous of the day. Regard it not so much a duty as a privilege. Husbands and fathers, let nothing rob you of the privilege and glory of being the high-priests in your own families. The children will never forget this hour, even if they are scattered to the ends of the earth. When the great Dr. Nott lay dying they bent over him to catch his whispers, and they heard him murmur, “Now I lay me down to sleep.” The only thing that we can never forget is what is learned in childhood. When you are building the soul-houses of your children, put around them the battlement of prayer. Is there a family represented here in whose home the family altar has been torn down? Go home and rebuild it. Is there one in which it never has been erected? Go home to establish it, I beseech you. Ask a blessing at your table; gather your childrenabout you, and around them and you throw the balustrade of family prayer. —Extract from a sermon by Robert S. MacArthur.