DIRECTIONS against levity in prayer 3/3

Now, to preserve thy affections in prayer warm and lively, let it be thy care to chase and stir up the natural heat that is undoubtedly in thee, if a Chris­tian, by the serious consideration of thy sins, wants, and mercies.  While thou art pondering on these, thine eye will affect thine heart.  They will, as Abishag did to David, by laying them in thy bosom, bring thy soul to a kindly heat in those affections which thou art to act in the several parts of prayer.  Thy sins re­viewed, and heightened with their aggravations, will make the springs of godly sorrow to rise in thy heart. Canst thou choose but mourn when thou shalt read thy several indictments to thy guilty soul, now called to hold up its hand at the bar of thy conscience? Canst thou hear how the holy law of God hath been violated, his Spirit grieved, and his Son murdered by thy bloody hands, and this when he hath been treat­ing thee mercifully, and not mourn?  Surely, should a man walk over a field after a bloody battle hath been fought, and there see the bodies, though of his enemies, lying weltering in their blood, his heart could not but then relent, though in the heat of battle his fury shut out all thoughts of pity.  But what if he should spy a father or a dear friend dead upon the place, of the wounds which his unnatural hand had given, would not his bowels turn?  Yes, surely, if he carried the heart of a man in his bosom.  Thou may­est guess, Christian, by this, what help such a media­tion would afford toward the breaking of thy heart for thy sins.  Certainly it would make thee throw away that unhappy dagger which was the instrument to give those deep stabs to the heart of Christ—and this is the best mourning of all.  Again, thy wants well weighed would give wings to thy desires.  If once thou wert possessed with the true state of thy affairs—how necessary it is for thee to have supplies from heaven, or to starve and die.  And so in the rest, &c.

Third Cause.  A third cause of roving thoughts, is encumbrance of worldly cares.  It is no wonder that man can enjoy no privacy with God in a duty, who hath so many from the world rapping at his door to speak with him when he is speaking with God.  Peri­clitatur pietas in negotiis—religion never goes in more danger than when in a crowd of worldly busi­ness.  If such a one prays, it is not long before some­thing comes in his head to take him off.  ‘Isaac went out to meditate,...and behold the camels.’  The world is soon in such a one's sight.  He puts forth one hand to heaven in a spiritual thought, but soon pulls it back, and a worldly one steps before it, and so makes a breach upon his duty.  ‘A dream,’ Solomon tells us, ‘cometh through a multitude of business.’  And so do dreaming prayers.  They are made up of heterogene­ous independent thoughts.  The shop, barn, ware­house are unfit places for prayer—I mean the shop in the heart, and the barn in the heart.  I have read of one who was said to be a walking library, because he left not his learning with his books in his study, but carried it about with him wherever he went, in his memory and judgment, that had digested all he read, and so made it his own.  And have we not too many walking shops and barns, who carry them to bed and board, church and closet?  And how can such pray with a united heart, who have so many sharers in their thoughts?  O anima sancta sola esto, anne nes­cis verecundum habes Sponsum!—O, holy soul, get thee alone, if thou wouldst have Christ give thee his loves. Knowest thou not thou hast a modest husband? Indeed he gives the soul not his embraces in a crowd, nor the kisses of his lips in the market.  Jacob sends away his company to the other side of the river, and then God gave him one of the sweetest meetings he had in all his life.  Let him now pray even a whole night if he will, and welcome.  Now, Christian, for thy help against these—

DIRECTIONS against levity in prayer 2/3

1. 3 Direction.  Go not in thy own strength to this duty, but commit thyself by faith to the conduct of the Spirit of God.  God hath promised to prepare, or establish, as the word is, the heart.  Indeed, then the heart is prepared when established and fixed.  A shaking hand may soon write a right line as our loose hearts keep themselves steady in duty.  Shouldst thou, with Job, make a covenant with thine eye, and resolve to bung up thine ear from all by‑discourse, how long, thinkest thou, shouldst thou be true to thine own self, who hast so little command of thine own thoughts?  Thy best way were to put thyself out of thine own hands, and lay thy weight on him that is able to bear thee better than thy own legs.  Pray with David, ‘Uphold me with thy free spirit,’ Ps. 51:12.  The vine leaning on a wall preserves itself and its fruit, whose own weight else, without this help, would soon lay it in the dirt.

Second Cause.   A second cause of these wander­ing roving thoughts in prayer, is a dead and unactive heart in him that prayeth.  If the affections be once down, then the Christian is as a city whose wall is broken down.  No keeping then the thoughts in, or Satan out.  The soul is an active creature.  Either it must be employed by us, or it will employ us, though to little purpose.  Like our poor, find them work and they keep at home.  But let them want for it, and you have them roving and begging all the country over. The affections are as the master-workmen, which set our thoughts on work.  Love entertains the soul with pleasant and delightful thoughts on its beloved object. Grief commands in the soul to muse with sorrowful thoughts on its ail and trouble.  So that, Christian, as long as thy heart bleeds in the sense of sin, they will have no leisure, when thou art confessing sin, to rove and wander.  If thy desires be lively, and flame forth in thy petitions, with a holy zeal for the graces and mercies prayed for, this will be as ‘a wall of fire’ to keep thy thoughts at home.

The lazy prayer is the roving prayer.  When Israel talked of travelling three days’ journey in the wilderness, Pharaoh said, ‘Ye are idle, ye are idle; therefore ye say, Let us go.’  As if he had said, ‘Surely they have little to do, or else they would not think of gadding.’  And therefore, to cure them of this, he commanded more work to be given, Ex. 5.  We may truly say thus of our wandering hearts, ‘They are idle.’ We pray, but our affections are dead and dull.  The heart hath little to do in the duty for the setting of its thoughts on work—only to speak or read a few words, which is so easy a task that a man may do it and spare whole troops of his thoughts to be employed else­where at the same time.  But now, when the affec­tions are up, melting into sorrow in the confession of sin, sallying forth with holy panting and breathing in its supplications, truly this fixeth the thoughts.  The soul intended can no more be in two places together than the body.  And as these holy affections will pre­vent the soul’s wandering disposition, so also make it more difficult for Satan to throw in his injections. Flies will not so readily light on a pot seething hot on the fire as when it stands cold in the window. Baalze­bub is one of the devil’s names—that is, the god os a fly—an allusion to the idolatrous sacrifices, where flies were so busy.  This fly will not so readily light on thy sacrifice when flaming from the altar of thy heart with zeal.

DIRECTIONS against levity in prayer 1/3

1. Direction.  Innure thyself to holy thoughts in thy ordinary course.  The best way to keep vessels from leaking—when we would use them for some special occasion—is to let them stand full.  A vain heart out of prayer will be little better in prayer.  The more familiar thou makest holy thoughts and savoury discourse to thee in thy constant walking, the more seasoned thou wilt find thy heart for this duty.  A scholar, by often rubbing up his notions when alone, and talking of them with his colleagues, makes them his own; so that, when he is put upon any exercise, they are at hand, and come fresh into his head. Whereas another, for want of this filling, wants mat­ter for his thoughts to feed on, which makes him straggle into many impertinencies before he can hit of that which suits his occasion.  The carnal liberty which we give our hearts in our ordinary walking, makes our thoughts more unruly and unsuitable for duties of worship.  For such thoughts and words leave a tincture upon the spirit, and so hinder the soul’s taking a better colour when it returns into the pres­ence of God.  Walk in the company of sinful thoughts all the day, and thou wilt hardly shut the door upon them when thou goest into thy closet.  Thou hast taught them to be bold; they will now plead acquaint­ance with thee, and crowd in after thee; like little children, who, if you play with them, and carry them much in your arms, will cry after you when you would be rid of their company.
2. Direction.  Possess thy heart with a reverential awe of God’s majesty and holiness.  This, if anything, will ‘gird up the loins of thy mind’ strait, and make thee hoc agere —mind what thou art about.  Darest thou toy and trifle with the divine majesty in a duty of his worship! carry thyself childishly before the living God! to look with one eye upon him, as it were, and with the other upon a lust! to speak one word to God, and chat two with the world!  Does not thy heart tremble at this?  Sic ora, saith Bernard, quasi assumptus et præsentatus ante faciem ejus in excelso throno, ubi millia millium ministrant ei—so pray as if thou wert taken up and presented before God sit­ting on his royal throne on high, with millions of mil­lions of his glorious servitors ministering to him in heaven.  Certainly the face of such a court would awe thee.  If thou wert but at the bar before a judge, and hadst a glass of a quarter of an hour’s length turned up—being all the time thou hadst allowed thee to improve for the begging of thy life, now forfeited and condemned—wouldst thou spare any of this little time to gaze about the court, to see what clothes this man had on, and what lace another wears?  God shame us for our folly in misspending our praying seasons.  Is it not thy life thou art begging at God’s hand; and that a better, I trow, than the malefactor sues for of his mortal judge?  And dost thou know whether thou shalt have so long as a quarter of an hour allowed thee when thou art kneeling down? And yet wilt thou scribble and dash it out to no purpose upon impertinencies?  If thou dost, why no better? Why no closer and compact in thy thoughts? Will God judge us for ‘every idle word’ that is spoken in our shop and house, at our work, yea sport and recreation?  And shall thy idle words in prayer not be accounted for?  And are not those idle words that come from a lazy heart, a sleepy heart, that minds not what it says?  What procured Nadab and Abihu so sudden and strange an death?  Was it not their strange incense?  And is not this strange praying, when thy mind is a stranger to what thy lips utter? Behave thyself thus to thy prince if thou darest.  Let thy hand reach a petition to him, and thine eye look or thy tongue talk to another; would he not command this clown, or rather madman, to be taken from be­fore him?  ‘Have I need of mad men, that ye have brought this fellow to play the mad man in my presence?’ I Sam. 21:15, said Achish when David be­haved himself discomposedly.  O! could you but look through the keyhole, and see how glorious angels in heaven serve their Maker, who are said to ‘behold the face of God continually,’ surely thou wouldst tremble to think of thy slightly performing this duty.

Four causes of wandering thoughts in prayer

         First Cause.  The first cause, and indeed original of all other, is the natural vanity and levity of our minds, which are as inconsistent as quicksilver, that hath, they say, principium motus, sed non quietis —the principle of motion, but not of rest.  They are as unstable as water, which fluid element—as we see in a little of it poured on the ground—diffuseth itself hither and thither, and so is soon drunk up and lost. Thus do our vain minds scatter themselves into im­pertinencies; but never so much as when we are con­versant about spiritual duties.  Then, above all, we discover the lightness of our spirits.  And this is not the least part of that evil which followed man’s de­generacy, who by his fall wounded both head and heart.  Now, though there be a cure in part made by the grace of God as to both these in a saint, yet there still remains a craze in his soul, whereby he is not able to dwell long upon spiritual things without some dissipation of his thoughts, as innocent Adam could —who, before his fall, might have walked through the whole world, and not have had one thought of his heart misplaced, or turned from its right point by the diversity of objects he met, they being all to the eye of his soul a clear medium, through which it passed to terminate itself in God, as the air is now to our bodily eye, through which it pierceth, and stays not till it comes at the body of the sun.  But, alas! it is with us as with one that hath had his skull broke by some dangerous fall, who, when recovered, finds his brain so weakened that, when he goes about any serious business, he cannot intend much, or persist long, but is off and on, out and in.  Such vagaries and cross steps do our hearts take in duty.  And this gives Satan advantage enough to work upon.  If the ship be light for want of ballast, and a strong gust of wind arises too, O how hard then is it to make it sail trim, or keep from toppling over!  A vain heart, and a strong temptation together, makes sad work, when God stands by and gives Satan leave to practice upon it. Be therefore careful to take in thy ballast before thou puttest to sea.  Labour to poise thy heart before thou goest to pray.  Which, that thou mayest do, improve the following directions.

The double plot of Satan in interrupting prayer 2/2

Second Plot.  In interrupting prayer Satan hath a plot against thee, Christian.

1. If he can get thee to sport with these, or sluggishly yield to them without making any vigourous resistance, that prayer, he knows, will neither do him hurt nor thyself good.  Dost [thou] think God will welcome that prayer to heaven which hath not thy heart to bear it company thither?  And how can thy heart go with it when thou hast sent it another way? It were a vain thing to expect that ship should make a prosperous voyage which is set adrift to sea to be carried whither every wave it meets will drive it, with­out any pilot to steer it to a certain haven, or such a one that hath no skill or care to hold the helm with a steady hand.  Such are the prayers that come from a roving heart.  Will God hear thee when thou mockest him?  And if this be not to mock him, what is?  Like children that give a knock at a door and then run away to their play again, thus thou rearest up thy voice to God, and then art gone in thy roving thoughts to hold chat with the world or worse, forgetting whom thou spakest last to.  Is not this to play bo‑peep with God?  Magnam injuriam Deo facio, cum precor, ut meas preces exaudiat, quas ego qui fundo, non exaudio; deprecor illum, ut mihi intendat, ego vero, nec mihi, nec mihi, intendo.  Thus the holy man complains of himself how injurious and un­worthy of God his carriage was in prayer—‘I would have God,’ saith he, ‘hear my prayer which myself doth not, when I put it up; I would have God’s ear attentive to me, when I neither mind God nor myself when I pray.’
2. He disturbs thee in praying, that he may make thee weary of praying.  Indeed, he is not likely to miss his mark if thou lettest these vermin go on to breed in thy heart; for these will rob thee of the sweetness of the duty; and when the marrow is once out, thou wilt easily be persuaded to throw the bone away.  Omnis vita gustu ducitur—he is in danger to forsake his meat who hath lost his relish of it.  Prayer is a tedious work to him that hath no pleasure in performing of it; and weariness init stands next door to being weary of it.
3. Thou provokest the Spirit of God—that alone can carry you through the work—to withdraw his assistance.  Who will help him that minds not what he does?  You know what Joab said to David when he indulged his inordinate passion for the loss of Absalom, ‘If thou go not forth, there will not tarry one with thee this night: and that will be worse unto thee than all the evil that befell thee,’ II Sam. 19:7. Truly, either thou must speedily rouse thyself out of thy sloth and non-attendance, or else the Spirit will be gone; and he departed, it will be worse with thee than ever.  Who hast thou then to help thee in thy work?  And thou wilt find it harder to bring him back, than to keep him from going.  The necessary infirm­ities which cleave to thy imperfect state, if protested against, shall not drive him away; but if thou lettest them nestle in thy heart, he takes it as thy giving him warning to be gone.  An affront done to an ambassa­dor by the baser sort of people as he walks in the street—while resident in a foreign state—may be passed over; but when such shall find countenance from the prince, it then makes a breach.  Take heed, therefore, of showing favour to such disturbers of the league betwixt God and thy soul.  Thy heart, which should be a house of prayer, Christ will not endure to have it a place of merchandise.  Either thou must whip these buyers and sellers out, or the Spirit will go.  We read of an ‘abomination of desolation standing in the holy place,’ Matt. 24:15, which some interpret to be the Roman ensigns there displayed when Jerusalem was taken.  This abomination ush­ered desolation.  What dost thou, by thy roving thoughts, but set up an abomination in the temple of thy heart?  O! down with these, as thou wouldst not be left desolate, and wholly void of God’s gracious presence with thee.

Question.  But, it may be, now you will ask, ‘What counsel can you give to arm us against both these incursions of Satan and bubblings of our own vain hearts in prayer?  How can we keep either our hearts in, or these out?’

{Answer.} Impossible, indeed, it may be wholly to prevent them, they come so suddenly and secretly —even as lightning in at the window.  We may as well keep the wind out of our house—which gets in at every crevice, though the doors be shut—as wholly free our hearts from their disturbance.  Yet this will not disoblige us from our utmost care and endeavour to hinder the prevalency of them.  Humours, while rouling here and there, do not endanger us so much as when they gather to a head, and settle in some joint and part of the body.  I have read of some eastern parts of the world, where such multitudes of locusts and caterpillars are seen, that they almost darken the air as they fly, and devour every green thing where they light.  The inhabitants, therefore, when they perceive this army hovering over them, by making fires in their fields, keep them from lighting with the smoke that ascends therefrom.  Thou canst not hinder these roving thoughts from flying now and then over thy head, but surely thou mayest do some­thing that may prevent their settling.  Towards which good work take these directions, which I shall endea­vour to suit to these several causes from whence they proceed.  The wanderings in prayer may be referred to four causes.  First. The natural vanity and levity of our minds.  Second. A dead and inactive heart in him that prayeth.  Third. Encumbrance of worldly cares. Fourth. Non‑observance of the heart in the act of prayer.

The double plot of Satan in interrupting prayer 1/2

         First Plot.  In interrupting prayer Satan hath a plot against God.  The devil knows very well that not the least part of his tribute of honour is paid by the Christian upon his knees in this solemn act of divine worship, to intercept which is both his great ambition and endeavour.  Nay, he despairs not—if his design takes—to make the Christian dishonour him most, where God looks his name should be above all sancti­fied.  Indeed, those have the unhappy opportunity of casting the greatest indignities on God who are admit­ted to stand nearest to him.  Should he who hath the honour to set the crown on his prince’s head, bring it in a filthy case, and so clap it on—or, instead of the king’s own royal crown bring some ridiculous one of straw, or such like stuff contrived on purpose to make laughter—what greater scorn could such a one pos­sibly invent to throw upon his prince?  The attributes of God are his royal diadem, and it is no small hon­our that the great God puts upon the Christian, by admitting him as it were to set this crown upon his head, which he doth when in prayer he gives him the glory of his majesty and holiness, power and mercy, truth and faithfulness, &c., with such humble adoration, and holy ravishment of affection, as may comport with the indefinite perfections of his deity.

         But if our present thoughts in prayer be not of God, or not suitable to God and these his glorious excellencies, we pollute his name, and not honour it. We mock him, not worship him.  In a word, we pull off his crown as much as in us lies, rather than set it on.  Now doth not thy heart tremble, Christian, in thy bosom, to think thou should be Satan's instrument to offer such an indignity as this unto thy God and King?  Thou art, if a saint, the temple of the Holy Ghost; prayer, the spiritual sacrifice which from the altar of a humble heart thou art to offer; wilt thou now suffer Satan to sit in this temple of God, and exalt himself there—by any vain, much less vile, thoughts—above God himself, whom thou art wor­shipping?  Suppose, while a prince is at dinner, a company of impudent ruffians should rush into the room through the negligence of the prince’s servants that are waiting on him, and they should throw the dishes, one this way, another that way, would not these servants deserve a severe rebuke that looked no better to the door?  Ordinances of worship are God’s table, the sacrifices under the law called God’s food and bread.  When the saint is praying the King of heaven sits at his table, Song 1:12.  The dishes served up are the graces of his Spirit in the saint.  Now wan­dering thoughts, they come in and turn the table as it were upside down; they spill the spikenard which thou wouldst pour forth.  How ill may thy God take it that thou lookest no better to the door of thy heart!

Satan strives to interrupt from prayer

         Second Design.  A second design Satan hath against the Christian is, to interrupt him in the act of prayer, when he can by no means keep him from it.  It is hard to steal a prayer and the devil not know what thou art going about.  He watches thy motions, Christian, and is at thy heels wherever thou turnest. If thou art about any evil action, he is at thy elbow to jog thee on, or before thee to remove every stone out of the way, that the bowl may go the more smoothly on, and thou mayest not be sick of the enterprise by the rubs thou meetest in the way.  Ahab had but a plot hatching in his thoughts of going up to Ramoth-Gilead, and presently Satan hath his knights of the post whom he sends to bid him go up and prosper. David himself had but some proud thoughts stirring him up to number the people; Satan takes the advan­tage, and works with the humour now moving, where­by it soon ripened into that sore which God lanced with so sharp a judgement as the loss of seventy thousand men.  Now he is as skilful and ready at hand to disturb a holy action as to promote a wicked.

         When the sons of God some to present them­selves before the Lord, Satan forgets not to be among them.  He is no recusant, scruples not to be present when you worship God; indeed he is first there and last thence.  Sometimes thou shalt find him injecting motions of his own, sometimes wire-drawing thy own. When he sees a vain thought, a sin sprung by thy wanton fancy, he will help thee to pursue the chase. To be sure, he will be at one end of every inordinate motion of thy heart; either the father to beget, or the nurse to bring them up.  These are so many and di­verse, that we may as well tell the atoms we see in a sunbeam, as number and sort this miscellaneous heap of roving thoughts which are incident to the Christian in prayer.  Sometimes he will inject such as are sinful, proud, filthy, yea blasphemous thoughts.  Not that he hopes to find entertainment in the Christian’s heart for such guests—much less to make a settlement of them there with the gracious soul’s consent; but to make a hurly-burly and confusion in his spirit, whereby—as upon some sudden scare in our assemb­lies—the holy exercise he is now about may be hin­dered.  Sometimes he will prompt thoughts holy in themselves but impertinent, which, at another time, himself would oppose with all his might, but now presents them, because most likely to find welcome, and fit enough to serve his present purpose, being, though good fruit, yet brought forth in a bad season. I believe none that have any acquaintance with this duty, and their hearts in it, are altogether strangers to Satan’s slights of this nature.  Now he hath a double plot; one levelled against God himself, another against the Christian thereby.