THE MEANING OF PRAYER 
 
 By REV. JOHN BIGHAM, Ph.D. 
 
 [HARVARD] 
 
 Professor of Philosophy, De Pauw University, Greencastle, Ind. 
 
 eprinted from the Methodist Review, Vol. XIII, No. 3, pp. 356-364, Fifth Series, May-June, 1897] 
 

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 Methodist Review. 
 
 Art. II.—THE MEANING OF PRAYER. 
 
 [May, 
 
 All men are in their way theologians. Everyone has some 
 deity at whose shrine he bows in prayer. It may be a false 
 god, a deified ancestor whose failings are hid by a halo of rev¬ 
 erence, or even the sun, moon, stars, or other natural objects 
 and forces. It may be the true God, whose unseen power is 
 manifested in righteousness and benevolence. The fact of 
 prayer, of adoration to some deity, true or false, is a significant 
 phase of human history and life. 
 
 A glance at the religious history of the world shows the uni¬ 
 versality of prayer. In ancient India over two thousand years 
 ago petitions were chanted by the Yedie priests—hymns of pro¬ 
 pitiation to Indra, the sky god; of thanks to Agni, the fire god ; 
 of fear to Varuna, the great destroyer; and tenderly beautiful' 
 supplications to Yama, the god of death. The temples of old 
 Egypt, dedicated to Osiris, god of the dead; to Amen, giver of 
 victory; to Ra, the sun god ; and to Ptah, the creator, resounded 
 with entreaties to their patron deities. In the Western world 
 c AZ ^ CS , in . ancient Mexico brought tribute and human sacri¬ 
 fice to Mexith and to Quetzalcoatl, god of benevolence. From 
 the altars of classic Greece incense arose through many centu¬ 
 ries to Athene, the wise; Zeus, the thunderer; Poseidon, the 
 sea god; Apollo, the princely healer; and Aphrodite, the foam- 
 born beauty; and votive offerings enriched the shrines of the 
 oracles of Delphi, Lesbos, and Dodona. The Romans, with all 
 their genius and endurance, owed their conquests as much to 
 prayer as to warfare. They had their Lares and Penates, 
 gods of the home and family ; Vesta, goddess of the quench- 
 kss hearth fire ; Trivia, goddess of the streets ; Jove and Juno, 
 Mars and Venus, Neptune, Pluto, and Bacchus; naiads and 
 nymphs fauns and satyrs ; a deity for every place and condition, 
 to which the devout Romans offered fervent and frequent 
 prayer. Our nearer ancestors, the ancient Saxons and Norsemen, 
 held communion with the mighty Thor, ruler of storms and 
 thunder; with the gentle and beautiful Balder, god of sum- 
 m Z ; Z Frey,giver of rain and harvests and peace; and 
 vith Odin the great all-father. And savage tribes, Indians of 
 America, idolatrous blacks of Central Africa, fetich worshipers 
 
 
 0 
 
1897 .] 
 
 The Meaning of Prayer. 36 '< 
 
 of the sea islands, these and all other peoples have gods to 
 which they offer a sincere but benighted adoration. And the 
 true God has never lacked worshipers. The Hebrews, with 
 clearer insight than their polytheistic neighbors in Chaldea, As¬ 
 syria, and Egypt, prayed to him as El Shaddai the mighty; as 
 Elohim Sebaoth, God of the hosts of heaven and earth ; as Je¬ 
 hovah, the living one. And the petitions spoken with incense 
 and sacrifice at the altars of Israel yielded at last to the purer 
 prayers of the early Christians, to spiritual communion with 
 the great Comforter. Thus in prayer the Church was founded 
 by Christ and extended by Paul and his brethren. In prayer 
 its missions were spread from India to Britain. In prayer the 
 martyrs died in the arena. In prayer the Church councils were 
 held. In prayer battles have been fought and nations founded. 
 In prayer Luther established Protestantism, Columbus claimed 
 the New World for Spain and the Church, and the Huguenots 
 and Puritans sought the freer life of the Western world.] 
 
 Prayers rise incessantly in the daily life of the world. To¬ 
 day, as in ancient times, the Brahman priests supplicate hideous 
 idols, and Buddhists in Japan tie their paper petitions to the 
 lattice screens at the shrines of the great Gautama. Many times 
 daily the muezzin calls the faithful of Islam to prayers, and 
 many millions of worshipers still bow before gods of metal, 
 wood, and stone. In Christian nations prayer is offered in 
 public meetings and on national occasions. Congress and legis¬ 
 latures have their chaplains and services. In educational insti¬ 
 tutions prayer has a permanent place. Universities, colleges, 
 academies, and some public schools have stated times for it. In 
 the religious w’orld it is a vital part of the regular services, Sab¬ 
 bath school, official and social meetings, and is peculiarly 
 prominent in the weekly prayer meetings. It enters into do¬ 
 mestic life, as family prayers or as the blessing at meals, and is 
 part of the personal experience of all believers. 
 
 A fact so prevalent in the history and life of the world must 
 command the attention and interest of every thoughtful mind. 
 It seems a just claim that everyone, whether a Christian or 
 not, should have an intelligent understanding of the meaning 
 of prayer. All prayers are petitions from a worshiper to a 
 deity. In the church services the minister says, “ Let us unite 
 in prayer.” The worshipers then kneel, or stand, or bow their 
 
358 
 
 Methodist Review. 
 
 [May, 
 
 heads. All eyes are closed. The preacher, in a similar attitude, 
 with clasped hands, leads them in prayer. In subdued tones, 
 which may sometimes tremble with emotion or rise in throbs 
 of supplication or melt in fervent thanksgiving, he talks to this 
 invisible and inaudible Being, which he addresses as “ God,” 
 or “ Lord,” or “ Our Father in heaven,” or “ Almighty God.” 
 His words guide the thoughts of the listening people. He 
 prays for the “ sick and afflicted,” for “ those weak in the 
 faith,” for the unconverted, for all good causes, such as the 
 Church, Christian temperance, Christian education, and mis¬ 
 sions. He confesses and asks forgiveness for the sins of his 
 people and of the world. After speaking thus for a short time 
 he ascribes holiness, glory, and power to this supreme Being, 
 and says, “ All this we ask in Christ’s name,” or merely uses 
 the phrase “ for Christ’s sake,” and then closes with the word 
 “ Amen,” a Hebrew adverb meaning “ firmly,” “ certainly,” 
 “ so be it.” Then the congregation resume the ordinary posi¬ 
 tion in the pews, and the service proceeds. An act so unique 
 as this communion of a sinful human being with an infinitely 
 holy Deity suggests various queries which may perhaps be an¬ 
 swered by scrutinizing prayer from several points of view: 
 
 I. The psychological. The act of prayer is the culmination 
 of normal mental conditions. One who prays does so because 
 he cannot help it. He is in mental distress which demands re¬ 
 lief. Into that desert land of the self, where each of us dwells in 
 loneliness, has suddenly Hashed a revelation of weakness, selfish¬ 
 ness, and guilt; and far away on the heights of consciousness 
 the dweller sees a splendor of unattained possibilities. And 
 toiling toward this transfiguration of his latent powers his 
 futile struggles declare his need of One who, knowing infinitely 
 better than he the hidden dangers of the psychic wilderness, can 
 guide him aright. This Guide can be no other than the supreme 
 mind, God. For all other finite minds are making the same 
 weary journey. Prayer, therefore, is the spontaneous yearning 
 for the Companion. And, as the brilliant and genial Pro¬ 
 fessor James aptly says, u Tlie impulse to pray is a necessary 
 consequence of the fact that, whilst the innermost of the em¬ 
 pirical selves of a man is a self of the social sort, it yet can 
 find its only adequate Socius in an ideal world.” * Thus, in 
 
 * Psychology, p. 192. New York, 1892. 
 
359 
 
 1897.] The Meaning of Prayer. 
 
 prayer, the petitioner communes with the ideal Self whose holi¬ 
 ness he vainly strives to realize. His sorrows and longings are 
 understood, and his burdens are lightened, because his secrets 
 are known, by an infinitely compassionate Friend. 
 
 The act of prayer involves some definite and important 
 psychic processes. The habit of prayer is an advantage and a 
 danger. Habitual j>rayer is easier, and by care and accom¬ 
 panying works may become a controlling powder in every life. 
 But it is liable to degenerate into a subconscious routine, like 
 eating and walking, and its efficacy is thereby endangered. 
 The mind that would commune witli its Companion must be 
 properly secluded. The quiet Sabbath, free from the turmoil 
 of business; the evening hour, after the cares of the day ; the 
 sanctuary, from whose dim light all harsh sounds and sights 
 are excluded ; the worshiper’s closed eyes and subdued tones 
 are requisites for shielding the spirit from the disturbances of 
 sense. In true prayer the attention must be directed to God. 
 Thus, only by effort can there be access to the divine con¬ 
 sciousness. Grouping its petitions around some definite need, 
 daily noticing new beauty in the changes of Christian experi¬ 
 ence, finding the shock of disappointment only a stimulus to 
 closer scrutiny of failings and possibilities, all valid prayer 
 requires voluntary attention. Those who pray are led to 
 greater delicacy of moral discrimination. The holiness and sin, 
 the gold and dross, the slime and cleanness in others and in 
 himself, stand out in their true proportions and vividness 
 when seen through the correcting transparency of prayer. 
 Yiewed through its achromatic purity, the pomp and glory of 
 the world vanish, its colors fade, its great dwindle, mammon’s 
 jewels become baubles and its robes tatters, Rome is a wilder¬ 
 ness and Nazareth an empire, Caesar a servant and Paul dicta¬ 
 tor, and the despised Galilean is King of kings. The last is 
 first and the first last, death is life, prosperity is doom, the 
 tipsy world grows sober, and superficial contrasts disappear 
 when by prayer we discern amid life’s seeming chaos the dom¬ 
 inant purpose of the great Judge who judges all things well. 
 In prayer the scope of this purpose is revealed. By the silent, 
 swift bonds of association the remotest and minutest objects 
 and events are united into a spiritual system wherein the mean¬ 
 ing of the world is more clearly seen. In suggestive influence 
 
360 
 
 Methodist Review. 
 
 [May, 
 
 upon a wavering mind a dewdrop may outweigh the ocean ; a 
 casual greeting may do more than a learned dissertation; a name, 
 a touch, a familiar refrain may reach the hidden springs of life. 
 The wings of lowly faith sweep in association from India to 
 China, Africa, Armenia; from Rome to Ephesus; from 
 David to Christ; from doubt to faith ; from Calvary’s cross to 
 the heavenly throne, and take many a refreshing journey in 
 the realms of spirit. Memory, too, darkens or chastens the 
 present with recollections of past failures or blessings. Imag¬ 
 ination secures through prayer an insight into the ideal world. 
 It shows us the gates of pearl, the precious streets, and jeweled 
 corridors leading to the great white throne. It sees there the 
 ineffable radiance of the thorn-crowned King, the chanting 
 choirs of cherubim and seraphim, and the adoration of the- 
 white-robed kneeling throngs of the redeemed. And, borne on 
 their melodious hosannas, it transports us away from all the. 
 crudity of earthly longings. 
 
 Further, all prayer is rational, an intelligent and normal 
 act. By reason we pass from the things seen, which are tem¬ 
 poral, to the things unseen, which are eternal; and the con¬ 
 crete world of houses and trees, books and furniture, men, 
 weather, sky, earth, stars, universities, battles, debates, news¬ 
 papers, and money, resolves into a few simple facts and princi¬ 
 ples—a holy God and a sinful soul; after sin, forgiveness or con¬ 
 demnation ; after life, death; after death, judgment; after 
 judgment, heaven or hell—and these are the essentials of life. 
 Obscured in ordinary living, they-stand clearly revealed in 
 prayer. The emotional nature is preeminent in prayer. 
 Throbs of remorse for sin, gratitude at forgiveness, grief and 
 reverence, fear and entreaty; anger, doubt, and despair; won¬ 
 der, awe, and peace ; the exultation of Miriam’s triumphant 
 song, Elijah’s thanksgiving for rain, David’s penitence, 
 Simeon’s rejoicing, Christ’s agony in Gethsemane, and over 
 all the love that passeth understanding—all these find a true 
 and necessary place in communion with the living God. The 
 deepest psychological significance of prayer is its volitional 
 nature. The bended knee, bowed head, and clasped hands 
 fitly express the submissive will, which has listened to the 
 inner voice, has deliberately chosen God, has renounced self, 
 and has determined upon a new life. Thus it was that the 
 
1807. J 
 
 361 
 
 The Meaning of Prayer. 
 
 publican cried, “ God be merciful to me a sinner; ” and the 
 persecutor on the Damascus road, in his crushed zeal and broken 
 nurpose, asked, “ Lord, what wilt thou have me to do ? And 
 the volitional element in prayer is consummated by the “Amen ” 
 of consent, the fiat of the worshiper. 
 
 II. The metaphysical. A psychological analysis of prayer 
 is inadequate. Psychology at best is only a natural science, 
 and—like chemistry, with its atomic theory, astronomy, with its 
 nebular hypothesis, and all other natural sciences—it rests upon 
 unproven assumptions, and all its explanations are provisional. 
 A clearer understanding of prayer requires the aid of metaphys¬ 
 ics, which defines it as a special relation between the absolute 
 and the finite spirit. The nature, method, and results of this 
 relation may be determined, as involving the categories of per¬ 
 sonality, being, and relation. The relation of the worshiper to 
 God in prayer is the “second personal” relation of com¬ 
 munion or direct address. V As a scientist the theologian studies 
 about God, as a worshiper he is acquainted with him. The 
 fact of prayer presupposes that the same essential nature is 
 characteristic of deity and worshiper. The Universal and the 
 particular are therefore spirits whose reciprocity of life is the 
 choice of both, and the fulfillment of the conditions which 
 make prayer valid is the duty of the suppliant. The method 
 whereby the particular secures audience with the Universal is 
 peculiar. The two are radically distinct—finite and infinite, 
 creature and Creator, sinful and holy, ignorance and omnis¬ 
 cience, weakness and omnipotence, limitation and absoluteness, 
 human and divine. Prayer bridges this dualism by a third 
 element possessing the essence of both Absolute and con¬ 
 ditioned. This mediation must be the Universal particular¬ 
 ized, the absolute idea uttered in a finite form, the eternal 
 Logos incarnate, the servant of Jehovah, Jesus the Christ. In 
 his name only and for his sake alone can the soul have access 
 to God, and there is no other name under heaven whereby 
 prayer can have validity. The phrase “ for Christ’s sake ” is 
 necessary in all effectual prayer, and has a clear metaphysical 
 authority. The beauty of prayer is further shown in its 
 results, in the insight so gained into the life of both the con¬ 
 ditioned and the Absolute. This knowledge is more extensive 
 and reliable than any other. All physical science is neces- 
 
 24 -FIFTH SERIES, YOL. XIII. 
 
362 Methodist Review. [May, 
 
 sarily “ through a glass, darkly.” Mental sciences are more 
 accurate in that the observer is “ face to face ” with his psychic 
 specimens. But in both departments the knowledge has two 
 limitations—the observer is fallible, and the mental and phys¬ 
 ical specimens are inadequate revelations of reality and are 
 studied under necessarily defective conditions of experimenta¬ 
 tion. But, in prayer, that unique attitude of the particular to 
 the Universal, there is only one limitation to knowledge—the 
 worshiper. The revelations of the Absolute in prayer are 
 more direct and extensive than in the ordinary mental life or 
 in the cosmos, and, if made at all, are wholly sincere. The 
 finite spirit, illumined by the shekinah of the unconditioned, 
 sees painfully its own most secret faults ; and he who prays in- 
 humble faith can thereby view the unveiled glory of reality, 
 forever hidden from the intellectual scrutiny of him who 
 studies but prays not. The action of the religious conscious¬ 
 ness in prayer is the metaphysical acme of cognition. It 
 yields to ontology and epistemology their most precious data. 
 
 III. The theological. The divine participation in prayer is 
 more important than the human. A thorough understanding 
 of prayer can be found, not in a description of its mental ac¬ 
 companiments, nor in an analysis of its basal principles, but 
 only through theology, which—being the interpretation of the 
 divine life as revealed in the facts of the religious consciousness 
 of man in history, in the cosmos, and in Christ—is the most 
 accurate, comprehensive, and important of all the sciences. 
 Thoughtful minds may have difficulty in harmonizing prayer 
 with the attributes of God. It seems to contradict his omnis¬ 
 cience. Is not prayer, they suggest, absurd in relation to an 
 omniscient spirit? If he knows us infinitely better than 
 we do ourselves, is it not a farce, they ask, to tell him the 
 sins we commit, the longings we have, the gladness we feel ? 
 Some prayers, doubtless many, do undertake this ridiculous 
 task of tutoring God. But prayer should not attempt to add 
 to that life in which there are no shadows of ignorance, no 
 fluctuations of passion, no maelstroms of doubt. In act, word, 
 and thought we do indeed express what is eternally known to 
 him ; but thus only can a relationship to him be established 
 which is not intellectual but volitional. Prayer is a commun¬ 
 ion, not a recitation; companionship, not coercion ; petition 
 
1897.] 
 
 363 
 
 The Meaning of Prayer . 
 
 with compliance or refusal, not question with answer or silence. 
 Conditioned by faith, it presupposes our receptivity, obedience, 
 and cooperation, recognizes God’s perfections and sovereignty, 
 and acknowledges in him the solution of all life’s puzzles. 
 
 A greater difficulty is to reconcile prayer with God’s omnip¬ 
 otence. His eternal purpose is to reveal himself through an 
 orderly system of finite spirits, objects, and events. Does prayer 
 disturb this revelation and alter the course of events ? If this 
 purpose should require a rainstorm, an earthquake, the ruin of 
 a nation, the success of a battle, the death of a loved one, the 
 salvation of one of our friends and the damnation of another, 
 can our prayers prevent these occurrences ? When President 
 Garfield was shot, the Christian world agonized in prayer for his 
 recovery; but he died. What good did all this praying do? 
 Such queries may be answered by distinguishing the principles 
 of the divine cliaracterfrom their revelation in objectsand events. 
 God is almighty. But he is not an almighty brute, or machine, 
 or lunatic. He is an omnipotent person whose life, being regu¬ 
 lated by reason, is one of infinite love. The principles of that 
 life are unalterable. If all the Christians of all ages should 
 unite in prayer to change a principle of the divine character, 
 the petition would be unheeded. The eternal reason cannot be 
 absurd. He cannot deny himself. But the revelation of rea¬ 
 son in concrete events is not unalterable. The fact of prayer, 
 and of its influence upon events, is presupposed in the system 
 of finite spirits constituting the kingdom of God. Prayers are 
 dynamic. They cannot change God’s eternal purpose. But 
 they do influence the manifestation of that purpose in the cos¬ 
 mos and in history. Hence the u accepted prayer ” of faith 
 commits itself to God in complete confidence that it will be 
 disposed of in wise accord with his ultimate purpose. 
 
 But can prayer be reconciled with foreordination ? If oui 
 friend’s damnation is predetermined from all eternity, why com¬ 
 mit the absurdity of praying for his salvation ? We do so pray 
 because such events are not foreordained. God is responsible 
 for, and does foreordain certain elements in, all objects and 
 events. The cosmos, the moral system, our own powers are pre¬ 
 determined. But the use of these powers, our sins and conse¬ 
 quent damnation, we alone control. God’s knowledge and power 
 are not limited. His responsibility is. He is not responsible 
 
364 
 
 Methodist Review. 
 
 [May, 
 
 for sin or for righteousness, but only for the freedom whose ex¬ 
 pression they are. And that this expression—either the unselfish 
 choice of God as the supreme object of love, or the sinful 
 choice of self as that object—is completely within our control 
 is overwhelmingly proven by the testimony of consciousness. 
 The remorse and penitence of the millions who have found 
 peace only in prayer to a forgiving God ; the lives of the mar¬ 
 tyrs, of Luther, Bunyan, and Jerry McAuley, are convincing 
 proof that our destiny is in our own power. Consciousness, the 
 soul’s impartial tribunal, pronounces its sentence, not upon an 
 innocent deity, but upon the deliberately criminal self. 
 
 Prayer is connected with the origin and continuance of the 
 Christian life. It is potent in conversion and in Christian cul¬ 
 ture. Prayer “ without ceasing ” is the unbroken sequence of 
 a Christian’s acts and thoughts. Time and place are nonessen¬ 
 tials. If business men prayed over their counters, farmers in 
 their dairies, mechanics* at the lathes, and cooks in the kitchen ; 
 if students in class rooms used swift, brief r silent prayers in¬ 
 stead of sly peeps into text-books; if prayer were ofiered'stead- 
 ily and silently, not merely at church or at nigLh and morning, 
 but everywhere, on the streets, in stores, on railway trains, the 
 world would be better. There would be more answers to 
 prayer. One who prays thus secretly, not thrice but a hun¬ 
 dred times a day—thirty-six thousand five hundred prayers a 
 year, short ones—will be surprised to see the delicate touch of 
 God in the details of life. And prayer is not merely language, 
 or thought, or action. “ Prayer ” is ordinarily pronounced as a 
 monosyllable, like “there,” “where,” “care.” But the word 
 is a dissyllable. The stem is “ pray ; ” and the suffix er, like 
 the Latin or in orator , and the Greek in jo^rwp, means actor 
 or agent. A pray-er is one who prays. The Christian is him¬ 
 self a pray-er; and the Christian civilization which, despite its 
 depreciation by skeptics and its competition with baser creeds, 
 is enhancing every phase of life, is the modern world’s sterling 
 tribute to the Pray-er of pray-ers. 
 
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