Exegetical and Hermeneutical Commentary of Luke 5:16
And he withdrew himself into the wilderness, and prayed.
16. he withdrew himself into the wilderness, and prayed ] Rather, But He Himself was retiring in the wilderness and praying. St Mark (Mar 1:45) gives us the clearest view of the fact by telling us that the leper blazoned abroad his cure in every direction, “ so that He was no longer able to enter openly into a city, but was without, in desert spots; and they began to come to Him from all directions.” We here see that this retirement was a sort of “Levitical quarantine,” which however the multitudes disregarded as soon as they discovered where He was.
and prayed ] St Luke’s is eminently the Gospel of Prayer and Thanksgiving. See on Luk 3:21.
Fuente: The Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges
Luk 5:16-17
And He withdrew Himself into the wilderness and prayed
Jesus praying
What were the special reasons which led our Lord at this time to go away for prayer.
I. THE NEED OF INWARD REFRESHMENT OF WHICH HE MUST HAVE BEEN CONSCIOUS.
1. Christ was full of the truest, tenderest sympathy.
2. His sympathy was invariably practical
3. It was intensely personal; general enough to embrace the multitude; particular enough to fix itself on the individual. We can imagine, therefore, how exhausted He must have been.
II. THE FEELING OF SADNESS WHICH CAME TO HIM IN VIEW OF THE SPIRITUAL APATHY OF THE MULTITUDES WHO WERE SO EAGERLY SEEKING HIM. If we are deeply concerned for the spiritual welfare of men we shall feel something of the same sadness.
III. HIS CONSCIOUSNESS OF THE DANGER TO HIS SPIRITUAL MISSION WHICH WOULD ARISE FROM A PREMATURE POPULARITY. Prayer is the only true preservative against the perils of success. Because of our success we are in danger–
1. Of rushing on too fast.
2. Of becoming self-dependent.
3. Of growing unsympathetic. (B. Wilkinson,F. G. S.)
The Redeemer an example of solitary prayer
I. UPON WHAT PRINCIPLES ARE WE TO ACCOUNT FOR OUR LORDS FREQUENT RETIREMENT FOR SOLITUDE AND DEVOTION? A man, though in blessed and ineffable union with God. Made in all points like unto His brethren, with the exception of His sinless purity.
1. The Redeemer would be impelled to cultivate solitude and devotion by the fervour of His piety.
2. Solitary communion with God was necessary to preserve His holy mind from the contaminations of the world, incidental to the possession of a material body, and his participation of human nature.
3. In solitude and prayer, the Redeemer was invigorated to pursue and to accomplish His great work.
4. Our Lord, by this habit of retired devotion, afforded an example and an illustration of His own doctrine, and condemned the hypocritical and ostentatious worship of the Jewish elders.
II. WHAT ADVANTAGES MAY WE EXPECT TO DERIVE FROM IMITATING THE EXAMPLE OF THE SAVIOUR IN THIS PARTICULAR INSTANCE. To suppose the disciple in less need of perpetual supplies of grace than his Lord were folly and presumption.
1. Solitude is favourable to that calm, reflecting, and pensive state of the mind which is suitable to the higher duties of religion.
2. In devout seclusion, the realities of religion are brought more closely home to our consciences and our hearts, and we feel more deeply our individual concern in their truth and consequences.
3. A life of faith in opposition to a life regulated by the exclusive interests of the present world, can only be sustained by habits of private devotion.
4. It secures an effectual refuge amidst the sorrows and calamities of life. (W. Hull.)
Christ and prayer
1. In what His prayers for the most part consisted we know not, but we know that one element, which must ever form an important part in our petitions, could have no place in His. He would not say, Forgive Me My trespasses.
2. But though Christ prayed without seeking mercy, of which He had no need, He still truly and earnestly prayed. His devotions were not simply thanksgivings, utterances of praise and gladness, or ecstatic contemplations.
3. In the prayers of Christ, if in nothing else, we see abundant reason for our prayers. ( E. Mellor, D. D.)
The exhaustion of pity
The spirit is never so exhausted as when it is exhausted by being pitiful. For weariness of bone and muscle nature is very generous; rest for that may be found anywhere; the tree will do for shelter, and the stone for a pillow. Weariness of brain is harder to lay aside, and weariness of heart harder still. Brain and limb fail when the hearts power is gone. Jesus needed the day for work and the night for rest. The spirit must rest and be refreshed by spirit; we are revived again, and often brought to a lively hope through the ministry of lifes friendships, and have been created anew by the consciousness of being understood. Christ had been understood neither when He spake nor acted, but had been wholly when He prayed. We, too, have need of a place apart where we may be refreshed from the presence of the Lord. (J. Ogmore Davies.)
Solitude necessary
Life must have its hours of holy solitude if it would be rich and strong. It is true that we can pray in the city; it is also true that the wilderness has charms of its own for meditative purposes. Silence helps speech. Loneliness prepares for society. Nature has special messages to exhausted workers. After the wilderness came the city, with all its activities and temptations. (J. Parker, D. D.)
Prayer the breath of the spiritual man
A celebrated performer upon the piano was continually familiar with his instrument, for he used to say, If I quit the piano one day I notice it; if I quit it two days my friends notice it; if I quit it three days the public notice it. No doubt he correctly described his experience; only by perpetual practice could he preserve the ease and delicacy of his touch. Be sure that it is so with prayer. If this holy art be neglected, even for a little time, the personal loss will be great; if the negligence be continued, our nearest spiritual friends will notice a deterioration in tone and life; and if the evil should be long indulged, our character and influence will suffer with a wider circle. To be a master of the mystery of prayer one must pray, pray continually, pray hourly, pray at all times, pray without ceasing. A Christian should no more leave off praying than the musician should leave off playing; in fact, it is the breath of every spiritual man, and woe be to him should he restrain it! (C. H.Spurgeon.)
A great man at prayer
I had once been spending three weeks in the White House with Mr. Lincoln as his guest. One night–it was just after the battle of Bull Run–I was restless and could not sleep. I was repeating the part which I was to take in a public performance. The hour was past midnight. Indeed, it was coming near to the dawn, when I heard low tones proceeding from a private room near where the President slept. The door was partly open. I instinctively walked in, and there I saw a sight which I shall never forget. It was the President kneeling beside an open Bible. The light was turned low in the room. His back was toward me. For a moment I was silent, as I stood looking in amazement and wonder. Then he cried out in tones so pleading and sorrowful, O thou God that heard Solomon in the night when he prayed for wisdom, hear me: I cannot lead this people, I cannot guide the affairs of this nation without Thy help. I am poor and weak and sinful. O God, who didst hear Solomon when he cried for wisdom, hear me, and save this nation! (James E. Murdock.)
Public prayer not always the measure of private prayer
My brethren, do we pray? There is many a minister–pardon me for saying so–who spends more time in public prayer than in private prayer, and not a few spend more time in preaching than in praying. Is this as it ought to be? A faithful pastor went once to see a young man who was a member of his Church, and he said to him, I have come to ask you if you are on good terms with your Father? meaning his heavenly Father. The young man seemed very much taken aback, and said to him, Who told you about me and my father? We have not been on speaking terms for years. Oh, said the minister, I mean your heavenly Father; but this is very sad. Oh, it is sad, and it grieves me in my heart, said the young man. Oh, said the minister, I have often spent an evening in your house, and I never noticed there was any estrangement between you and your father. Ah, no, says the young man, we have an arrangement, when we come together in company to act as if nothing had happened; but when we are alone there is no intercourse between us. (C. Lockhart.)
And the power of the Lord was present to heal them.—
The gospels healing power
I. THE POWER OF CHRIST IN THE GOSPEL IS MAINLY A POWER TO HEAL,.
1. It is a Divine power which comes from our Lord Jesus, because He is most surely God. It is the sole prerogative of God to heal spiritual disease.
2. Although our Lord Jesus healed as Divine, remember that He also possessed power to heal because of His being human. He used no other remedy in healing our sin-sickness but that of taking our sicknesses and infirmities upon Himself. This is the one great cure-all.
3. The power which dwelt in Christ to heal, coming from Him as Divine and human, was applicable, most eminently, to the removal of the guilt of sin. Reading this chapter through, one pauses with joy over that twenty-fourth verse, The Son of Man hath power upon earth to forgive sin. Here, then, is one of the great Physicians mightiest arts: He has power to forgive sin.
4. This is not the only form of the healing power which dwells without measure in our glorious Lord. He heals the sorrow of sin. It is written, He healeth the broken in heart and bindeth up their wounds. When sin is really manifest to the conscience it is a most painful thing, and for the conscience to be effectually pacified is an unspeakable blessing. Sharper than a dagger in the heart, or an arrow piercing through the loins, is conviction of sin. When Jesus is received by faith, He lifts all our sorrow from us in a moment.
5. Christ also heals the power of sin.
6. And He is able to heal us of our relapses.
II. A second remark arises from the text: THERE ARE SPECIAL PERIODS WHEN THE POWER TO HEAL IS MOST MANIFESTLY DISPLAYED. The verse before us says that on a certain day the power of the Lord was present to heal, by which I understand, not that Christ is not always God, not that He was ever unable to heal, but this–that there were certain periods when He pleased to put forth His Divine energy in the way of healing to an unusual degree. The sea is never empty; it is indeed always as full at one time as at another, put yet it is not always at flood. The sun is never dim, he shines with equal force at all hours, and yet it is not always day with us, nor do we always bask in the warmth of summer. Christ is fulness itself, but that fulness does not always overflow; He is able to heal, but He is not always engaged in healing.
1. On this occasion there was a great desire among the multitude to hear the Word.
2. The healing power was conspicuously present when Christ was teaching.
3. A further sign of present power is found most clearly in the sick folk who were healed by Jesus.
4. The particular time mentioned in the text was prefaced by special season of prayer on the part of the principal actor in it.
III. WHEN THE POWER OF THE LORD IS PRESENT TO HEAL, IT MAY NOT BE SEEN IN ALL, BUT MAY BE SHOWN IN SPECIAL CASES AND NOT IN OTHERS. We do not find that this power was wanting among the publicans; we have an instance here of one of them who made a great feast in his house for Christ. Where, then, was the power lacking? Where was it unsought and unfelt?
1. It was, in the first place, among the knowing people, the doctors of the law. These teachers knew too much to submit to be taught by the Great Rabbi. There is such a thing as knowing too much to know anything, and being too wise to be anything but a fool. Beware of saying, Oh yes, yes, yes, yes, that is very applicable to So-and-so, and very well put. Do not criticise, but feel.
2. Those, moreover, who had a good opinion of themselves were left unblest. The Pharisees I no better people anywhere, from Dan to Beersheba, than the Pharisees, if you would take them upon their own reckoning.
3. The people who stood by, as one observes, they did not come to be preached at, they came for Christ to preach before them. They did not come for Christ to operate upon them; they were not patients, they were visitors in the hospitals.
4. Those who felt not the healing power sneered and cavilled. When a man gets no good out of the ministry, he is pretty sure to think there is no good in the ministry; and when he himself, for want of stooping down, finds no water in the river, he concludes it is dry, whereas it is his own stubborn knee that will not bend, and his own wilful mouth that will not open to receive the gospel.
IV. In the last place, I want Christian people here to observe that WHEN THE POWER OF CHRIST WAS PRESENT, IT CALLED FORTH THE ENERGY OF THOSE WHO WERE HIS FRIENDS TO WORK WHILE THAT POWER WAS MANIFEST. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Christ healing the sick
1. The infinitude of Christs power.
2. The tenderness of Christs power.
3. The beneficence of Christs power.
4. The availableness of Christs power.
The conditions on which is secured the outflow of Christs beneficent power.
1. Helplessness. Leper and paralytic men were unable to relieve themselves.
2. Humility.
3. Faith. (P. P. Davies.)
Fuente: Biblical Illustrator Edited by Joseph S. Exell
Verse 16. And he withdrew himself into the wilderness] Or rather, He frequently withdrew into the desert. This I believe to be the import of the original words, . He made it a frequent custom to withdraw from the multitudes for a time, and pray, teaching hereby the ministers of the Gospel that they are to receive fresh supplies of light and power from God by prayer, that they may be the more successful in their work; and that they ought to seek frequent opportunities of being in private with God and their books. A man can give nothing unless he first receive it; and no man can be successful in the ministry who does not constantly depend upon God, for the excellence of the power is all from him. Why is there so much preaching, and so little good done? Is it not because the preachers mix too much with the world, keep too long in the crowd, and are so seldom in private with God? Reader! Art thou a herald for the Lord of hosts? Make full proof of thy ministry! Let it never be said of thee, “He forsook all to follow Christ, and to preach his Gospel, but there was little or no fruit of his labour; for he ceased to be a man of prayer, and got into the spirit of the world.” Alas! alas! is this luminous star, that was once held in the right hand of Jesus, fallen from the firmament of heaven, down to the EARTH!
Fuente: Adam Clarke’s Commentary and Critical Notes on the Bible
We meet with Christ often commending to us the duty of secret prayer, by his own example, as he had done by his precept, Mat 6:1-34, and always choosing for it the most private and retired places, to teach us to go and to do likewise, often to pray to our Father which seeth in secret: and his example more presseth us, because we have much more business with God in prayer than he had; he had no sins to confess, nor to beg pardon for, no need to ask for any sanctifying habits of grace, &c. It is possible also that he withdrew into desert places oft times to avoid all show of ostentation, or dangers of tumults, and to obtain a little rest for himself. But suppose that the reason of his motion, yet the spending of his leisure hours in communion with his Father is very imitable for us. Christ had no idle hours, he was always either preaching or healing, thereby doing good to others; or praying, thereby paying a homage to God. If it could be said of the Roman, (with respect to his studies), it should be much more said of Christians, They should never be less alone than when they are alone, nor less idle than when they are most at leisure from their public employments.
Fuente: English Annotations on the Holy Bible by Matthew Poole
And he withdrew himself into the wilderness,…. Into a desert place, that he might have rest from the fatigues of preaching and healing diseases; and being alone, and free from company, might have an opportunity for private prayer to God, for so it lows:
and prayed; this is to be understood of Christ, as man: as God, he is the object of prayer, and petitions are often addressed unto him; and as mediator, he offers up the prayers of all saints, and presents them to his Father; which are acceptable to him, through the incense of his mediation; and as man, he prayed himself: what he now prayed for, is not known; sometimes he prayed for his disciples, and for all that should believe; for their conversion, sanctification, union, perseverance, and glorification; and sometimes for himself, that the cup might pass from him, and he be saved from death; but always with submission to the will of his Father.
Fuente: John Gill’s Exposition of the Entire Bible
But he withdrew himself in the deserts and prayed ( ). Periphrastic imperfects. Literally, “But he himself was with drawing in the desert places and praying.” The more the crowds came as a result of the leper’s story, the more Jesus turned away from them to the desert regions and prayed with the Father. It is a picture of Jesus drawn with vivid power. The wild enthusiasm of the crowds was running ahead of their comprehension of Christ and his mission and message. H (perhaps with the notion of slipping away secretly, –) is a very common Greek verb, but in the N.T. occurs in Luke alone. Elsewhere in the N.T. (to go back) appears.
Fuente: Robertson’s Word Pictures in the New Testament
Withdrew [ ] . The participle with the imperfect of the finite verb denoting something in progress, and thus corresponding to the imperfect in verse 15. The multitudes were coming together, but he was engaged in retirement and prayer, so that he was inaccessible. The word occurs only in Luke, the usual New Testament word for withdraw being ajnacwrew. See Mt 2:12; Mt 12:15; Mr 3:7.
17 – 26. Compare Mr 2:1 – 12.
Fuente: Vincent’s Word Studies in the New Testament
1) “And he withdrew himself,” (autos de en hupochoron) “Then he was withdrawing himself,” until He was withdrawn or He went away.
2) “Into the wilderness, and prayed.” (en tais eremois kai proseuchomenos) “Into the desert, wilderness, or uninhabited place, and there He prayed,” as He so frequently did, to commune with His Father, Mat 14:23; Mar 6:46; Luk 3:21; Luk 6:12; Luk 9:18; Luk 9:28-29; Luk 23:34; Luk 23:46.
Fuente: Garner-Howes Baptist Commentary
(16) He withdrew himself into the wilderness.Literally, into the wildernesses, agreeing with St. Marks in desert places, now in one part, now in another, of the unenclosed, uncultivated country. The addition that he was praying there is peculiar to St. Luke, who, throughout his Gospel, lays stress on this feature in our Lords life. (See Introduction.)
Fuente: Ellicott’s Commentary for English Readers (Old and New Testaments)
‘But he withdrew himself in the deserts, and prayed.’
While walking in the towns and cities (Luk 5:12) Jesus was constantly open to approaches by needy people, and this made it all the more necessary that at times He withdraw into desert places to meet with His Father (compare Luk 6:12; Luk 9:18; Luk 9:28; Luk 11:1; Luk 22:32). He may have been withdrawing from the effects of the new success, but whatever the reason it was an indication that He needed these times of resuscitation in the presence of God.
Fuente: Commentary Series on the Bible by Peter Pett
16 And he withdrew himself into the wilderness, and prayed.
Ver. 16. And he withdrew ] Pray, if you mean to prosper.
Fuente: John Trapp’s Complete Commentary (Old and New Testaments)
16. ] . is peculiar to Luke, as often: see ch. Luk 3:21 ; Luk 6:12 ; Luk 9:18 ; Luk 11:1 .
This verse breaks off the sequence of the narrative.
Fuente: Henry Alford’s Greek Testament
Luk 5:16 . To retirement mentioned in Mk. Lk. adds prayer ( ); frequent reference to this in Lk.
Fuente: The Expositors Greek Testament by Robertson
withdrew = continued withdrawn. Peculiar to Luke here, and Luk 9:10.
into = in. Greek. en. App-104.
prayed. Greek. proseuchomai. App-134. The second recorded occasion in Luke; see Luk 3:21.
Fuente: Companion Bible Notes, Appendices and Graphics
16.] . is peculiar to Luke, as often: see ch. Luk 3:21; Luk 6:12; Luk 9:18; Luk 11:1.
This verse breaks off the sequence of the narrative.
Fuente: The Greek Testament
Luk 5:16. , Himself) He for His part [as contrasted with the multitudes Luk 5:15].- ) was in the habit of withdrawing. Thereby He both had a space of time for rest and prayer, and sharpened the desires of men for Him.
Fuente: Gnomon of the New Testament
Healing And Forgiveness — Luk 5:16-26
And He withdrew Himself into the wilderness, and prayed. And it came to pass on a certain day, as He was teaching, that there were Pharisees and doctors of the law sitting by, which were come out of every town of Galilee, and Judaea, and Jerusalem: and the power of the Lord was present to heal them. And, behold, men brought in a bed a man which was taken with a palsy: and they sought means to bring him in, and to lay him before Him. And when they could not find by what way they might bring him in because of the multitude, they went upon the housetop, and let him down through the tiling with his couch into the midst before Jesus. And when He saw their faith, He said unto him, Man, thy sins are forgiven thee. And the scribes and the Pharisees began to reason, saying, Who is this which speaketh blasphemies? Who can forgive sins, but God alone? But when Jesus perceived their thoughts, He answering said unto them, What reason ye in your hearts? Whether is easier, to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee; or to say, Rise up and walk? But that ye may know that the Son of Man hath power upon earth to forgive sins, (He said unto the sick of the palsy,) I say unto thee, Arise, and take up thy couch, and go into thine house. And immediately he rose up before them, and took up that whereon he lay, and departed to his own house, glorifying God. And they were all amazed, and they glorified God, and were filled with fear, saying, We have seen strange things today- Luk 5:16-26.
Those were very busy days for our Lord as He went from place to place manifesting His mighty power and ministering so graciously. In Luk 5:16 we read, He withdrew Himself into the wilderness and prayed. I do not know of anything that so emphasizes for us the reality of the humanity of our Lord as the fact that He felt the need of praying and withdrew Himself to pray. He who was God, He who heard the prayers of others, came down here as man and took the place of the dependent One and lifted His heart to the Father in earnest prayer. It is a good thing for us all to retire into the wilderness and pray. As we enter more into the life of prayer, we will find renewed strength and courage for our daily tasks.
And it came to pass on a certain day, as He was teaching, there were Pharisees and doctors of the law sitting by, which were come out of every town of Galilee, and Judaea, and Jerusalem: and the power of the Lord was present to heal them. He went into one home and many gathered about, and others stood in the doorway and openings as He ministered the Word to all those who were near enough to hear. While the meeting was going on, there came four men bearing on a bed a poor neighbor of theirs, a paralyzed man, a man which was taken with a palsy: But they could not get in through the door because of the crowd. They might have said, Well, we will have to try some other time. We cant get through that crowd now. This is probably what you and I might have said. We would have gone away to wait for some more convenient season. I like the earnestness of these men. They wanted to bring this man into contact with the Lord, and so they took him up to the housetop and let him down through the tiling.
The roofs in the Orient were flat, as you can see them today in many places in Palestine and Syria, and in other lands of the East. These men lifted their poor paralyzed friend up onto the roof, and then they removed the mud hardened by the sun and lifted up the tiles and when they had a space large enough for the couch to go through, they put ropes underneath it and let him down through the roof into the midst before Jesus.
I can imagine the people there wondering what was happening when the pieces of mud and tiling fell through; and then when this couch was let down, they no doubt said something about spoiling the roof and were provoked at the interruption of the meeting.
Palsy pictures the helplessness of the sinner. This man was hopelessly ill. Perhaps he had lain on that couch for years and the outlook as far as he was concerned was absolutely dark. There seemed to be no possibility of a cure. How like that is to the case of the poor helpless sinner I Many know they are sinners but do not realize that they are absolutely helpless to relieve their condition.
We are not only utterly weak because of sin and cannot do a thing to save ourselves, but we are beyond all human help. No one else can deliver us, no matter how good or how well-meaning he may be. If we are ever saved at all it must be through the interposition of One who is more than man. Apart from Christ, there is no possibility of deliverance.
But this man had some friends who were interested in him. It is a great thing to have a friend concerned about you. It is a great thing when some unsaved one has some believer interested in him. Oh, unconverted man or woman, it means a lot to have someone praying for you! Husband, you may not realize it, but it is a wonderful thing to have a praying wife; wife, it is a wonderful thing to have a praying husband. Friend, it means a great deal if there are friends interested enough to pray for you. You should thank God when people are interested enough to pray for you. Some resent it, but why should anyone be angry because others are enough concerned to pray for them?
This man had friends and they determined if it was at all possible they were going to get him to Jesus. Christian, have you someone on your list of whom you are saying in your heart, I must get him to Jesus? These four men were not discouraged because of difficulties, but they brought their friend to Jesus even though they had to tear up part of the roof to do it. Cant you picture them bringing him down the road and saying, When we get him to Jesus, we know something will happen. They might have said-but they did not-Look at that crowd of people, there is not much hope today; or, Look at the crowds, but perhaps when they see the condition of this man, our friend, they will make way for him. But no one wanted to make way, and they could not get their friend in through the doorway where Jesus was.
They might have reasoned, It isnt the Lords time; we will have to wait until the Lord is more willing to do something for him, and so have gone back home and missed a blessing for him and for themselves. But these tremendously earnest men were determined to bring their friend to Jesus, and so they said, There is another way; we will try the roof. I think as the Lord was teaching, the folks must have been astonished as they saw the four eager faces of these men peering through the opening and then the couch being let down. They might even have said that the preaching of Jesus was more important than bothering with a paralytic like that! These men were so definitely interested; and we may well imitate their example. Some may have suggested, when they first went to get their sick friend to take him to Jesus, that it was of no use. But they were not discouraged. They knew that Jesus had healed others and they were insistent that he must come to Jesus also and prove what He could do. The sick man may have said, All right; if you can get me there, I will go. We often hear seeking souls exhorted to pray through in order to be saved, but it is the sinners friends who need to pray through in order that he may be led to trust the Lord Jesus Christ and be saved.
No matter what the others may have thought, the heart of Jesus was delighted. It is always a joy to Him when He finds folks who are really in earnest. When He saw their faith-I think it means the faith of the four men and the faith of the sick man also; for it was faith that made him willing to come. The evidence of their faith was seen in what they did and by their earnest desire to get their friend to the feet of Jesus. When He saw their faith, He said unto him, Man, thy sins are forgiven thee. He saw that this mans spiritual need was greater than his physical need. The spiritual need is always greater. Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added unto you. Many will say, I wish you would pray that I might be healed of my sickness. But few realize the need of pardon for sin.
Get right with God first-know His saving help first of all. So often people think of just one particular evil habit. They say, I wish you would pray that I might have victory or be delivered from this evil habit. But they do not seem to realize that our Lord Jesus does not specialize in merely fixing people up, but in giving them pardon for their sins and imparting a new life.
Jesus looked at the man and said, Man, thy sins are forgiven thee. Surely that was good news. Did you ever hear Him say that to you? You would not hear an audible voice, but we find it in His Word. He says to you who believe in Him, Thy sins are forgiven thee. The only way you can be sure of this is by taking Him at His Word.
How did this man know his sins were forgiven him? Because Jesus said so. If people asked this man how he knew this, he could have replied, I rest in His Word, and I trust Him. Have you trusted His Word? But my! How this angered the legalists! They thought that one had to buy and pay for everything. They thought that God does not do anything for you unless you pay for it, and that salvation has to be earned by something that you do for God. They did not understand grace, and asked, Who is this which speaketh blasphemies? Who can forgive sins, but God alone? What they didnt know was that it was God in flesh standing in the midst of them who had said, Man, thy sins are forgiven thee. If Jesus had been only man, then it would have been blasphemy, but because He was God manifest in the flesh, He could say that and not blaspheme. No one needed to tell Jesus what these men were thinking, and so He answered them saying, What reason ye in your hearts? Whether is easier, to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee; or to say, Rise up and walk? One was as difficult as the other. There was no use for them to say to anyone, Thy sins be forgiven thee, for they had no such authority. Neither could they give strength to palsied limbs.
Jesus said, But that ye may know that the Son of Man hath power upon earth to forgive sins, He saith unto the sick of the palsy, I say unto thee, Arise, and take up thy couch, and go into thine house. He did this that they might know that He was not speaking lies; that they might know that He had the authority to forgive sins.
The Lord Jesus met the spiritual need first, and then demonstrated His divine power by healing the mans bodily disease. He forgave him first and then healed him. We read, And immediately he rose up before them and took up that whereon he lay, and departed to his own house, glorifying God. I dont believe he walked like an ordinary man. I can imagine him leaping for joy as he hastened to demonstrate what Jesus had done for him. I think I see this man going to his home and saying, Oh, friends, what do you think? I have been to Jesus and He has forgiven all my sins and healed my disease. What a testimony! What a living proof of the Deity and compassion of the Saviour!
Fuente: Commentaries on the New Testament and Prophets
Luk 6:12, Mat 14:23, Mar 1:35, Mar 1:36, Mar 6:46, Joh 6:15
Reciprocal: Hos 5:6 – he
Fuente: The Treasury of Scripture Knowledge
SPIRITUAL SOLITUDE
And He withdrew Himself into the wilderness, and prayed.
Luk 5:16
The wilderness and the mountainthe two loneliest places He could commandappear several times to have made fitting retirement for Christ.
God provides wildernesses for us all, and He provides them in the same mercy and in the same intention with which He provided them for Israel, or for Moses, or for Elijah, or for Paul, or for Christ.
I. Where is the wilderness?The many bright rooms of your house are the Nazareth, and the Capernaum, and the Jerusalem. But where is the wilderness? In the quietude of your own room, arranged for you in the kind Providence of God, that in your chamber you may follow Christ as He went, and do what He did, alone. All greatly need it. Nothing in the family, nothing out of doors, no intercourse, can compensate for the solitude of the soul. The spiritual life depends upon the sanctuary of the wilderness of your own private bedroom.
II. The purpose of the wilderness.Christ went into the wilderness to pray. Beware of sentimental solitude. Beware of prayerless solitude. Beware of idle solitude. There are prayers, such as we have been now offering, when we do right, as we pray, to gather into our mind the sense of the presence of every individual within the walls, and to embrace them all into one loving heart. But there is prayer which must be intense loneliness with God. What a man is to God, that a man is. You stand, it may be, in many relationships, and they are all dear. But one by one those relationships must pass away, that you may be related only to one, and that one God. Look well to it that you adjust, that you know your real position towards God and towards eternity.
Fuente: Church Pulpit Commentary
6
This was the occasion when he walked on the sea towards the apostles to their terrified astonishment (Mat 14:23-33).
Fuente: Combined Bible Commentary
The duty of private and solitary prayer is not more strictly enjoined by our Saviour’s command, than it is recommended to us by his example.
Observe, 1. The duty which our holy Lord performed: prayer. We have much more business with God in prayer than Christ had; he had no sins to be humbled for, nor beg pardon of; no need to pray for any sanctifying habits of grace, the Holy Spirit being given to him without measure; yet did our holy Lord spend much of his time in prayer; he took delight in paying this homage to his heavenly Father.
Observe, 2. What kind of prayer our Lord did eminently delight in: it was solitary and private prayer. He often went alone, even out of the hearing of his own disciples. The company of our best friends is not always seasonable nor acceptable. There are times and seasons when a Christian would not be willing that his dearest relations upon earth should hear that conversation which passes between him and his God.
Observe, 3. The place our Lord withdraws to for private prayer; it is the desert; he withdrew into the wilderness and prayed, both to avoid ostentation, and also to enjoy communion with his Father. The modest Bridegroom of his church, says St. Bernard, will not impart himself so freely to his spouse before company. That our Saviour rose up a great while before day, and went into this desert place to pray. Mar 1:35
Teaching us, that the morning is the fit season, yea, the best of seasons, for private duties; now are our spirits freshest, and our spirits freest, before the distractions of the day break is upon us. It is certainly much better to go from prayer to business, than from business to prayer.
Note lastly, that our blessed Saviour had no idle hours here in this world; his time did not lie upon his hands as ours do; he was always either preaching or praying, or working miracles; either paying homage to God or doing good to man.
Lord, help us to imitate this thy instructive example, by embracing all opportunities of glorifying God, and doing good to one another.
Fuente: Expository Notes with Practical Observations on the New Testament
Chapter 11
CONCERNING PRAYER.
WHEN the Greeks called man , or the “uplooking one,” they did but crystallize in a word what is a universal fact, the religious instinct of humanity. Everywhere, and through all times, man has felt, as by a sort of intuition, that earth was no Ultima Thule, with nothing beyond but oceans of vacancy and silence, but that it lay in the over-shadow of other worlds, between which and their own were subtle modes of correspondence. They felt themselves to be in the presence of Powers other and higher than human, who somehow influenced their destiny, whose favour they must win, and whose displeasure they must avert. And so Paganism reared her altars, almost numberless, dedicating them even to the “Unknown God,” lest some anonymous deity should be grieved at being omitted from the enumeration. The prevalence of false religions in the world, the garrulous babble of mythology, does but voice the religious instinct of man; it is but another Tower of Babel, by which men hope to find and to scale the heavens which must be somewhere overhead.
In the Old Testament, however, we find the clearer revelation. What to the unaided eye of reason and of nature seemed but a wave of golden mist athwart the sky “a meeting of gentile lights without a name” now becomes a wide-reaching and shining realm, peopled with intelligences of divers ranks and orders; while in the centre of all is the city and the throne of the Invisible King, Jehovah, Lord of Sabaoth. In the breath of the new morning the gossamer threads Polytheism had been spinning through the night were swept away, and on the pillars of the New Jerusalem, that celestial city of which their own Salem was a far-off and broken type, they read the inscription, “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God is one Lord.” But while the Old Testament revealed the unity of the Godhead, it emphasized especially His sovereignty, the glories of His holiness, and the thunders of His power. He is the great Creator, arranging His universe, commanding evolutions and revolutions, and giving to each molecule of matter its secret affinities and repulsions. And again He is the Lawgiver, the great Judge, speaking out of the cloudy pillar and the windy tempest, dividing the firmaments of Right and Wrong, whose holiness hates sin with an infinite hatred, and whose justice, with sword of flame, pursues the wrong-doer like an unforgetting Nemesis. It is only natural, therefore, that with such conceptions of God, the heavens should appear distant and somewhat cold. The quiet that was upon the world was the hush of awe, of fear, rather than of love; for while the goodness of God was a familiar and favourite theme, and while the mercy of God, which “endureth for ever,” was the refrain, oft repeated, of their loftiest songs, the love of God was a height the Old Dispensation had not explored, and the Fatherhood of God, that new world of perpetual summer, lay all undiscovered, or but dimly apprehended through the mist. The Divine love and the Divine Fatherhood were truths which seemed to be held in reserve for the New Dispensation; and as the light needs the subtle and sympathetic ether before it can reach our outlying world, so the love and the Fatherhood of God are borne in upon us by Him who was Himself the Divine Son and the incarnation of the Divine love.
It is just here where the teaching of Jesus concerning prayer begins. He does not seek to explain its philosophy; He does not give hints as to any observance of time or place; but leaving these questions to adjust themselves, He seeks to bring heaven into closer touch with earth. And how can He do this so well as by revealing the Fatherhood of God? When the electric wire linked the New with the Old World the distances were annihilated, the thousand leagues of sea were as if they were not; and when Jesus threw across, between earth and heaven, that word “Father,” the wide distances vanished, and even the silences became vocal. In the Psalms, those loftiest utterances of devotion, Religion only once ventured to call God “Father;” and then, as if frightened at her own temerity, she lapses into silence, and never speaks the familiar word again. But how different the language of the Gospels! It is a name that Jesus is never weary of repeating, striking its music upwards of seventy times, as if by the frequent iteration He would lodge the heavenly word deep within the world’s heart. This is His first lesson in the science of prayer: He drills them on the Divine Fatherhood, setting them on that word, as it were, to practise the scales; for as he who has practised well the scales has acquired the key to all harmonies, so he who has learned well the “Father” has learned the secret of heaven, the sesame that opens all its doors and unlocks all its treasures.
“When ye pray,” said Jesus, replying to a disciple who sought instruction in the heavenly language, “say, Father,” thus giving us what was His own pass-word to the courts of heaven. It is as if He said, “If you would pray acceptably put yourself in the right position. Seek to realize, and then to claim, your true relationship. Do not look upon God as a distant and cold abstraction, or as some blind force; do not regard Him as being hostile to you or as careless about you. Else your prayer will be some wail of bitterness, a cry coming out of the dark, and losing itself in the dark again. But look upon God as your Father, your living, loving, heavenly Father; and then step up with a holy boldness into the child-place, and all heaven opens before you there.”
And not only does Jesus thus “show us the Father,” but He takes pains to show us that it is a real, and not some fictitious Fatherhood. He tells us that the word means far more in its heavenly than in its earthly use; that the earthly meaning, in fact, is but a shadow of the heavenly. For “if ye then,” He says, “being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him?” He thus sets us a problem in Divine proportion. He gives us the human fatherhood, with all it implies, as our known quantities, and from these He leaves us to work out the unknown quantity, which is the Divine ability and willingness to give good gifts to men; for the Holy Spirit includes in Himself all spiritual gifts. It is a problem, however, which our earthly figures cannot solve. The nearest that we can approach to the answer is that the Divine Fatherhood is the human fatherhood multiplied by that “how much more” a factor which gives us an infinite series.
Again, Jesus teaches that character is an important condition of prayer, and that in this realm heart is more than any art. Words alone do not constitute prayer, for they may be only like the bubbles of the children’s play, iridescent but hollow, never climbing the sky, but returning to the earth whence they came. And so when the scribes and Pharisees make “long prayers,” striking devotional attitudes, and putting on airs of sanctity, Jesus could not endure them. They were a weariness and abomination to Him; for He read their secret heart, and found it vain and proud. In His parable {Luk 18:11} He puts the genuine and the counterfeit prayer side by side, drawing the sharp contrast between them. He gives us that of the Pharisee, wordy, inflated, full of the self-eulogizing “I.” It is the prayerless prayer, that had no need, and which was simply an incense burned before the clayey image of himself. Then He gives us the few brief words of the publican, the cry of a broken heart, “God be merciful to me, a sinner,” a prayer which reached directly the highest heaven, and which came back freighted with the peace of God. “If I regard iniquity in my heart,” the Psalmist said, “the Lord will not hear me.” And it is true. If there be the least unforgiven sin within the soul we spread forth our hands, we make many prayers, in vain; we do but utter “wild, delirious cries” that Heaven will not hear, or at any rate regard. The first cry of true prayer is the cry for mercy, pardon; and until this is spoken, until we step up by faith into the child-position, we do but offer vain oblations. Nay, even in the regenerate heart, if there be a temporary lapse, and unholy tempers brood within, the lips of prayer become paralyzed at once, or they only stammer in incoherent speech. We may with filled hands compass the altar of God, but neither gifts nor prayers can be accepted if there be bitterness and jealousy within, or if our “brother has aught against” us. The wrong must be righted with our brother, or we cannot be right with God. How can we ask for forgiveness if we ourselves cannot forgive? How can we ask for mercy if we are hard and merciless, gripping the throat of each offender, as we demand the uttermost farthing? He who can pray for them who despitefully use him is in the way of the Divine commandment; he has climbed to the dome of the temple, where the whispers of prayer, and even its inarticulate aspirations, are heard in heaven. And so the connection is most close and constant between praying and living, and they pray most and best who at the same time “make their life a prayer.”
Again, Jesus maps out for us the realm of prayer, showing the wide areas it should cover. St. Luke gives us an abbreviated form of the prayer recorded by St. Matthew, and which we call the “Lord’s Prayer.” It is a disputed point, though not a material one, whether the two prayers are but varied renderings of one and the same utterance, or whether Jesus gave, on a later occasion, an epitomized form of the prayer He had prescribed before, though from the circumstantial evidence of St. Luke we incline to the latter view. The two forms, however, are identical in sub stance. It is scarcely likely that Jesus intended it to be a rigid formula, to which we should be slavishly bound; for the varied renderings of the two Evangelists show plainly that Heaven does not lay stress upon the ipsissima verba.
We must take it rather as a Divine model, laying down the lines on which our prayers should move. It is, in fact, a sort of prayer microcosm, giving a miniature reflection of the whole world of prayer, as a drop of dew will give a reflection of the encircling sky. It gives us what we may call the species of prayer, whose genera branch off into infinite varieties; nor can we readily conceive of any petition, however particular or private, whose root-stem is not found in the few but comprehensive words of the Lord’s Prayer. It covers every want of man, just as it befits every place and time.
Running through the prayer are two marked divisions, the one general, the other particular and personal; and in the Divine order, contrary to our human wont, the general stands first, and the personal second. Our prayers often move in narrow circles, like the homing birds coming back to this “centered self” of ours, and sometimes we forget to give them the wider sweeps over a redeemed humanity. But Jesus says, “When ye pray, say, Father, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come.” It is a temporary erasure of self, as the soul of the worshipper is absorbed in God. In its nearness to the throne it forgets for awhile its own little needs; its low-flying thoughts are caught up into the higher currents of the Divine thought and purpose, moving outwards with them. And this is the first petition, that the name of God may be hallowed throughout the world; that is, that men’s conceptions of the Deity may become just and holy, until earth gives back in echo the Trisagion of the seraphim. The second petition is a continuation of the first; for just in proportion as men’s conceptions of God are corrected and hallowed will the kingdom of God be set up on earth. The first petition, like that of the Psalmist, is for the sending out of “Thy light and Thy truth;” the second is that humanity may be led to the “holy hill,” praising God upon the harp, and finding in God their “exceeding joy.” To find God as the Father-King is to step up within the kingdom.
The prayer now descends into the lower plane of personal wants, covering (1) our physical, and (2) our spiritual needs. The former are met with one petition, “Give us day by day our daily bread,” a sentence confessedly obscure, and which has given rise to much dispute. Some interpret it in a spiritual sense alone, since, as they say, any other interpretation would break in upon the uniformity of the prayer, whose other terms are all spiritual. But if, as we have suggested, the whole prayer must be regarded as an epitome of prayer in general, then it must include some where our physical needs, or a large and important domain of our life is left uncovered. As to the meaning of the singular adjective we need not say much. That it can scarcely mean “tomorrows” bread is evident from the warning Jesus gives against “taking thought” for the morrow, and we must not allow the prayer to traverse the command. The most natural and likely interpretation is that which the heart of mankind has always given it, as our “daily” bread, or bread sufficient for the day. Jesus thus selects, what is the most common of our physical wants, the bread which comes to us in such purely natural, matter-of-course ways, as the specimen need of our physical life. But when He thus lifts up this common, ever-recurring mercy into the region of prayer He puts a halo of Divineness about it, and by including this He teaches us that there is no want of even our physical life which is excluded from the realm of prayer. If we are invited to speak with God concerning our daily bread, then certainly we need not be silent as to aught else.
Our spiritual needs are included in the two petitions, “And forgive us our sins; for we ourselves also forgive everyone that is indebted to us. And bring us not into temptation.” The parenthesis does not imply that all debts should be remitted, for payment of these is enjoined as one of the duties of life. The indebtedness spoken of is rather the New Testament indebtedness, the failure of duty or courtesy, the omission of some “ought” of life or some injury or offence. It is that human forgiveness, the opposite of resentment, which grows up under the shadow of the Divine forgiveness. The former of these petitions, then, is for the forgiveness of all past sin, while the latter is for deliverance from present sinning; for when we pray , “Bring us not into temptation,” it is a prayer that we may not be tempted “above that we are able,” which, amplified, means that in all our temptations we may be victorious, “kept by the power of God.”
Such, then, is the wide realm of prayer, as indicated by Jesus. He assures us that there is no department of our being, no circumstance of our life, which does not lie within its range; that
“The whole round world is every way Bound with gold chains about the feet of God,”
and that on these golden chains, as on a harp, the touch of prayer may wake sweet music, far-off or near alike. And how much we miss through restraining prayer, reserving it for special occasions, or for the greater crises of life! But if we would only loop up with heaven each successive hour, if we would only run the thread of prayer through the common events and the common tasks, we should find the whole day and the whole life swinging on a higher, calmer level. The common task would cease to be common, and the earthly would be less earthly, if we only threw a bit of heaven upon it, or we opened it out to heaven. If in everything we could but make our requests known unto God that is, if prayer became the habitual act of life we should find that heaven was no longer the land “afar off,” but that it was close upon us, with all its proffered ministries.
Again, Jesus teaches the importance of earnestness and importunity in prayer. He sketches the picture for it is scarcely a parable of the man whose hospitality is claimed, late at night, by a passing friend, but who has no provision made for the emergency. He goes over to another friend, and rousing him up at midnight, he asks for the loan of three loaves. And with what result? Does the man answer from within, “Trouble me not: the door is now shut, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot rise and give thee”? No, that would be an impossible answer; for “though he will not rise and give him because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him as many as he needeth” {Luk 11:8}. It is the unreasonableness, or at any rate the untimeliness of the request Jesus seems to emphasize. The man himself is thoughtless, improvident in his household management. He disturbs his neighbour, waking up his whole family at midnight for such a trivial matter as the loan of three loaves. But he gains his request, not, either, on the ground of friendship, but through sheer audacity, impudence; for such is the meaning of the word, rather than importunity. The lesson is easily learned, for the suppressed comparison would be, “If man, being evil, will put himself out of the way to serve a friend, even at this untimely hour, filling up by his thoughtfulness his friend’s lack of thought, how much more will the heavenly Father give to His child such things as are needful?”
We have the same lesson taught in the parable of the Unjust Judge {Luk 18:1}, that “men ought always to pray, and not to faint.” Here, however, the characters are reversed. The suppliant is a poor and a wronged widow, while the person addressed is a hard, selfish, godless man, who boasts of his atheism. She asks, not for a favour, but for her rights that she may have due protection from some extortionate adversary, who somehow has got her in his power; for justice rather than vengeance is her demand. But “he would not for awhile,” and all her cries for pity and for help beat upon that callous heart only as the surf upon a rocky shore, to be thrown back upon itself. But after wards he said within himself, “Though I fear not God, nor regard man, yet because this widow troubleth me, I will avenge her, lest she wear me out by her continual coming.” And so he is moved to take her part against her adversary, not for any motive of compassion or sense of justice, but through mere selfishness, that he may escape the annoyance of her frequent visits lest her continual coming “worry” me, as the colloquial expression might be rendered. Here the comparison, or contrast rather, is expressed, at any rate in part. It is, “If an unjust and abandoned judge grants a just petition at last, out of base motives, when it is often urged, to a defenseless person for whom he cares nothing, how much more shall a just and merciful God hear the cry and avenge the cause of those whom He loves?”* (*Farrar.)
It is a resolute persistence in prayer the parable urges, the continued asking, and seeking, and knocking that Jesus both commended and commanded {Luk 11:9}, and which has the promise of such certain answers, and not the tantalizing mockeries of stones for bread, or scorpions for fish. Some blessings lie near at hand; we have only to ask, and we receive – receive even while we ask. But other blessings lie farther off, and they can only be ours by a continuance in prayer, by a persistent importunity. Not that our heavenly Father needs any wearying into mercy; but the blessing may not be ripe, or we ourselves may not be fully prepared to receive it. A blessing for which we are unprepared would only be an untimely blessing, and like a December swallow, it would soon die, without nest or brood. And sometimes the long delay is but a test of faith, whetting and sharpening the desire, until our very life seems to depend upon the granting of our prayer. So long as our prayers are among the “maybes” and “mights” there are fears and doubts alternating with our hope and faith. But when the desires are intensified, and our prayers rise into the “must-be’s,” then the answers are near at hand; for that “must be” is the soul’s Mahanaim, where the angels meet us, and God Himself says “I will.” Delays in our prayers are by no means denials; they are often but the lengthened summer for the ripening of our blessings, making them larger and more sweet.
And now we have only to consider, which we must do briefly, the practice of Jesus, the place of prayer in His own life; and we shall find that in every point it coincides exactly with His teaching. To us of the clouded vision heaven is sometimes a hope more than a reality. It is an unseen goal, luring us across the wilderness, and which one of these days we may possess; but it is not to us as the wide-reaching, encircling sky, throwing its sunshine into each day, and lighting up our nights with its thousand lamps. To Jesus, heaven was more and nearer than it is to us. He had left it behind; and yet He had not left it, for He speaks of Himself, the Son of man, as being now in heaven. And so He was. His feet were upon earth, at home amid its dust; but His heart, His truer life, were all above. And how constant His correspondence, or rather communion, with heaven! At first sight it appears strange to us that Jesus should need the sustenance of prayer, or that He could even adopt its language. But when He became the Son of man He voluntarily assumed the needs of humanity; He “emptied Himself,” as the Apostle expresses a great mystery, as if for the time divesting Himself of all Divine prerogatives, choosing to live as man amongst men. And so Jesus prayed. He was wont, even as we are, to refresh a wasted strength by draughts from the celestial springs; and as Antaeus, in his wresting, recovered himself as he touched the ground, so we find Jesus, in the great crises of His life, falling back upon Heaven.
St. Luke, in his narrative of the Baptism, inserts one fact the other Synoptists omit that Jesus was in the act of prayer when the heavens were opened, and the Holy Ghost descended, in the semblance of a dove, upon Him. It is as if the opened heavens, the descending dove, and the audible voice were but the answer to His prayer. And why not? Standing on the threshold of His mission, would He not naturally ask that a double portion of the Spirit might be His that Heaven might put its manifest seal upon that mission, if not for the confirmation of His own faith, yet for that of His fore runner? At any rate, the fact is plain that it was while He was in the act of prayer that He received that second and higher baptism, even the baptism of the Spirit.
A second epoch in that Divine life was when Jesus formally instituted the Apostleship, calling and initiating the Twelve into the closer brotherhood. It was, so to speak, the appointment of a regency, who should exercise authority and rule in the new kingdom, sitting, as Jesus figuratively expresses it {Luk 22:30}, “on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.” It is easy to see what tremendous issues were involved in this appointment; for were these foundation-stones untrue, warped by jealousies and vain ambitions, the whole superstructure would have been weakened, thrown out of the square. And so before the selection is made, a selection demanding such insight and foresight, such a balancing of complementary gifts, Jesus devotes the whole night to prayer, seeking the solitude of the mountain-height, and in the early dawn coming down, with the dews of night upon His garment and with the dews of heaven upon His soul, which, like crystals or lenses of light, made the invisible visible and the distant near.
A third crisis in that Divine life was at the Transfiguration, when the summit was reached, the border line between earth and heaven, where, amid celestial greetings and overshadowing clouds of glory, that sinless life would have had its natural transition into heaven. And here again we find the same coincidence of prayer. Both St. Mark and St. Luke state that the “high mountain” was climbed for the express purpose of communion with Heaven; they “went up into the mountain to pray.” It is only St. Luke, however, who states that it was “as He was praying” the fashion of His countenance was altered, thus making the vision an answer, or at least a corollary, to the prayer. He is at a point where two ways meet: the one passes into heaven at once, from that high level to which by a sinless life He has attained; the other path sweeps suddenly downward to a valley of agony, a cross of shame, a tomb of death; and after this wide detour the heavenly heights are reached again. Which path will He choose? If He takes the one He passes solitary into heaven; if He takes the other He brings with Him a redeemed humanity. And does not this give us, in a sort of echo, the burden of His prayer? He finds the shadow of the cross thrown over this heaven-lighted summit for when Moses and Elias appear they would not introduce a subject altogether new; they would in their conversation strike in with the theme with which His mind is already preoccupied, that is the decease He should accomplish at Jerusalem and as the chill of that shadow settles upon Him, causing the flesh to shrink and quiver for a while, would He not seek for the strength He needs? Would He not ask, as later, in the garden, that the cup might pass from Him; or if that should not be possible, that His will might not conflict with the Father’s will, even for a passing moment? At any rate we may suppose that the vision was, in some way, Heaven’s answer to His prayer, giving Him the solace and strengthening that He sought, as the Father’s voice attested His Sonship, and celestials came forth to salute the Well-beloved, and to hearten Him on towards His dark goal.
Just so was it when Jesus kept His fourth watch in Gethsemane. What Gethsemane was, and what its fearful agony meant, we shall consider in a later chapter. It is enough for our present purpose to see how Jesus consecrated that deep valley, as before He had consecrated the Transfiguration height, to prayer. Leaving the three outside the veil of the darkness, He passes into Gethsemane, as into another Holy of holies, there to offer up for His own and for Himself the sacrifice of prayer; while as our High Priest He sprinkles with His own blood, that blood of the ever lasting covenant, the sacred ground. And what prayer was that! how intensely fervent! That if it were possible the dread cup might pass from Him, but that either way the Father’s will might be done! And that prayer was the prelude to victory; for as the first Adam fell by the assertion of self, the clashing of his will with God s, the second Adam conquers by the total surrender of His will to the will of the Father. The agony was lost in the acquiescence.
But it was not alone in the great crises of His life that Jesus fell back upon Heaven. Prayer with Him was habitual, the fragrant atmosphere in which He lived, and moved, and spoke. His words glide as by a natural transition into its language, as a bird whose feet have lightly touched the ground suddenly takes to its wings; and again and again we find Him pausing in the weaving of His speech, to throw across the earthward warp the heavenward woof of prayer. It was a necessity of His life; and if the intrusive crowds allowed Him no time for its exercise, He was wont to elude them, to find upon the mountain or in the desert His prayer-chamber beneath the stars. And how frequently we read of His “looking up to heaven” amid the pauses of His daily task! stopping before He breaks the bread, and on the mirror of His upturned glance leading the thoughts and thanks of the multitude to the All-Father, who giveth to all His creatures their meat in due season; or pausing as He works some impromptu miracle, before speaking the omnipotent “Ephphatha,” that on His upward look He may signal to the skies! And what a light is turned upon His life and His relation to His disciples by a simple incident that occurs on the night of the betrayal! Reading the sign of the times, in His forecast of the dark tomorrow, He sees the terrible strain that will be put upon Peter’s faith, and which He likens to a Satanic sifting. With prescient eye He sees the temporary collapse; how, in the fierce heat of the trial, the “rock” will be thrown into a state of flux; so weak and pliant, it will be all rippled by agitation and unrest, or driven back at the mere breath of a servant-girl. He says mournfully, “Simon, Simon, behold. Satan asked to have you, that he might sift you as wheat: but I made supplication for thee, that thy faith fail not” {Luk 22:31}. So completely does Jesus identify Himself with His own, making their separate needs His care (for this doubtless was no solitary case); but just as the High Priest carried on his breastplate the twelve tribal names, thus bringing all Israel within the light of Urim and Thummim, so Jesus carries within His heart both the name and the need of each separate disciple, asking for them in prayer what, perhaps, they have failed to ask for themselves. Nor are the prayers of Jesus limited by any such narrow circle; they compassed the world, lighting up all horizons; and even upon the cross, amid the jeers and laughter of the crowd, He forgets His own agonies, as with parched lips He prays for His murderers, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”
Thus, more than any son of man, did Jesus “pray without ceasing,” “in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving” making request unto God. Shall we not copy His bright example? shall we not, too, live, labour, and endure, as “seeing Him who is invisible”? He who lives a life of prayer will never question its reality. He who sees God in everything, and everything in God, will turn his life into a south land, with upper and nether springs of blessing in ceaseless flow; for the life that lies full heavenward lies in perpetual summer, in the eternal noon.