Last night’s compline prayers included a passage by 17th-century British clergyman Jeremy Taylor:
There is no greater proof in the world of our spiritual danger than the reluctance which most people always have and all people sometimes have to pray; so weary of their length, so glad when they are done, so clever to excuse and neglect their opportunity. Yet prayer is nothing but desiring God to give us the greatest and best things we can have and that can make us happy. It is a work so easy, so honorable, and to so great a purpose, that (except in the incarnation of His Son) God has never given us a greater argument of His willingness to have us saved and our unwillingness to accept it, of His goodness and our gracelessness, of His infinite condescension and our folly, than by rewarding so easy a duty with such great blessings.
I like this because it is so wonderfully expressed–Taylor is noted more for his good writing than for his deep theology–but there’s a lot to think about here. In particular, I’m drawn to Taylor’s definition:
Yet prayer is nothing but desiring God to give us the greatest and best things we can have and that can make us happy.
These seems to fit so well with what Jesus tells us of God in the Sermon on the Mount: “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” (Matthew 7:11). And I love the way Luke presents this–note the difference: “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!†(Luke 11:13). God wants and knows how to give us good gifts.
Taylor’s assertion, twice, that prayer is “so easy” also catches my attention–I believe he is right, but why do we make it so hard? Why do we need books and sermons and seminars on how to pray? That’s undoubtedly a question to consider in another post–a series, perhaps?–but for now I’m content to meditate on Taylor’s insights and ask that God would bring me to a place where prayer is always easy, always full of blessing, always expectant of God’s good gifts.
Charis means grace, and that’s what this blog is about: grace, in all its—sometimes messy, always magnificent—manifestations. I’m Dan Butcher, and I invite you to join me in learning to lead a Christ-centered, grace-filled life.