To Dr. Whyte, prayer was at the very center of the Christian life. Prayer was not merely a religious duty. It was the believer pouring out his heart before God, and God, in loving fellowship, drawing near to His child.
One writer said of Whyte:
“He always distinguished between the Godward and the manward side of religion. No spiritual teacher of his time preached with greater insight on repentance or prayer. Though he deeply valued public worship, he believed the highest form of devotion was secret prayer.”
For more teaching on prayer by Whyte, see his book Lord, Teach Us to Pray.
Suppose for a moment that humanity had been left completely without hope in our fallen condition of sin and misery. Imagine that there was nothing awaiting us except judgment and eternal ruin.
Now suppose we discovered that somewhere among the stars there existed another fallen race, sinful and miserable like ourselves. But unlike us, their Creator had become their Redeemer. Suppose we were told that God had opened heaven to them and invited them to come boldly before His throne at any hour of the day or night. By simply praying, they could speak to Him and receive His mercy, help, and fellowship.
How amazed we would be! With what longing we would gaze up at that distant world! We would envy those blessed people. We would say, “Oh, if only I had been born there instead of on this God-forsaken earth!”
What worship they must enjoy! What sweet communion with God! What joyful prayer meetings! What holy family worship! How blessed it must be to be a father or mother in such a place!
But now suppose we were also told that most of those people ignored their Redeemer. Suppose they neglected prayer, despised fellowship with God, and hated even the thought of kneeling before Him. Suppose ninety-nine out of every hundred lived as if there were no God at all.
What would we think of such people?
We would surely say they were insane.
And yet this is not imagination. This world is that favored world. We are those people.
We are the ones who ask, “What profit is there in serving God? What benefit is there in prayer?”
Can there be any explanation for such a terrible condition? How can men who have access to God neglect Him so completely? How can even devoted Christians sometimes feel such resistance to prayer that, as Shepard confessed, they would almost rather face death itself than spend time alone with God?
The deepest explanation is this: our sinful hearts are alienated from God.
There is within us a mysterious hostility toward our Maker. Scripture calls it “enmity against God.” Sometimes we dislike even the thought of drawing near to Him. We love our distractions more than His presence. We risk our souls daily rather than humble ourselves in secret prayer.
This is spiritual suicide.
Our actions say things too dreadful to speak openly:
“Not tonight. I do not need prayer tonight. I am busy. I have work to finish. Letters to answer. Entertainment waiting for me. There is still plenty of time before death comes.”
Even sincere Christians must confess a painful reluctance toward prayer.
Jeremy Taylor wrote:
“There is no clearer sign of spiritual danger than a reluctance to pray. We grow weary of it, eager to finish it, and clever at inventing excuses to avoid it.”
John Newton confessed similarly:
“I can read, write, and converse willingly, but secret prayer is more spiritual than any of these things. And the more spiritual a duty is, the more my sinful heart shrinks back from it.”
These godly men openly admitted their struggle.
And yet true prayer demands the whole heart.
God promises Himself only to those who seek Him sincerely. Scripture repeatedly says:
“You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart.”
The people of Judah sought God wholeheartedly, and He gave them rest. The psalmist speaks of the blessedness of those who seek God with their whole heart.
Even pagan philosophers recognized that prayer costs something. True prayer requires surrender. It requires the heart itself.
Thomas Shepard wrote in his journal:
“I saw that my heart was inclined to neglect prayer. I thought I had prayed enough for one night. But then I realized that all I could pray was little enough compared to all the mercy I needed. I also saw that God intended me to receive mercy in a way that would cost me something.”
This is one of the greatest difficulties of prayer: it demands our whole soul.
There are also difficulties in praying with others.
Sometimes public worship becomes difficult because the minister’s manner, voice, or wording distracts us. Sometimes family worship grows cold and lifeless. Familiarity dulls our attention.
Even in the closest relationships, united prayer may become difficult. A husband and wife, a parent and child, may find their spiritual struggles so different that praying together feels painful rather than comforting.
The obstacles to true prayer are many and real.
And why is it that even mature believers sometimes lose their freedom and joy in prayer after years of walking closely with God?
Whyte admits he cannot fully answer that question. He had searched for answers in both himself and others but remained unsatisfied. Spiritual decline in prayer is one of the saddest mysteries in Christian experience.
So how are we to fight against this dreadful neglect of prayer?
The psalmist said:
“I thought on my ways, and turned my feet unto Thy testimonies.”
Think carefully about the place of prayer in Scripture. Think about the lives of God’s greatest servants. Think about God Himself waiting to show mercy to those who pray.
Ask yourself:
What must God think of my neglect of Him?
How would I feel if someone treated me the way I treat God?
What does my prayer life reveal about my heart?
Serious reflection should drive us to cry out for “the spirit of grace and supplication.”
No matter how difficult prayer feels, persevere.
Shepard said:
“Men complain of difficulty; I speak of advantage. He who overcomes his unwillingness to pray shall eat of the hidden manna.”
Many believers know this experience. They begin prayer unwillingly, but once they continue, sweetness and liberty come.
The hardest part is often simply beginning.
Do not wait for emotional excitement before praying.
Samuel Rutherford warned believers not to judge prayer by feelings alone. Spiritual life is not measured by emotional pleasure.
Sometimes prayer is most genuine when it feels dry and difficult.
Faithfulness matters more than feelings.
Shepard wrote:
“I saw that it was my duty not only to pray at certain times, but to live by prayer.”
Prayer should not merely be an activity added to life. It should become the very atmosphere of life itself.
As prayer becomes habitual, it becomes natural.
When God softens your heart, respond immediately.
When Moses saw God’s glory, he quickly bowed down and worshiped.
Do not delay when the Spirit draws you toward prayer.
David said:
“My sin is ever before me.”
Martin Luther said:
“I am always sinning, always reading Romans, and always praying.”
A deep awareness of sin should not drive us away from God, but toward Him.
Many godly believers intentionally created places for secret prayer.
James Durham built a private study devoted to meditation and prayer. Early New England Christians often designed homes with small private rooms specifically for secret devotion.
Shepard considered it a sign of spiritual decline when such prayer rooms disappeared from Christian homes.
Whyte describes a friend who hung portraits of his children beneath a picture of Christ interceding for them. Seeing it daily reminded him to pray for his family.
Wise Christians use practical reminders to stir themselves toward prayer rather than forgetfulness.
And then comes this solemn warning:
Many children grow up in baptized homes yet are never truly taught to pray. Their parents belong to the church, but prayer is neglected in the home. The children succeed in school and in life, yet remain strangers to God.
And when they become parents themselves, they pass down the same prayerless spirit to the next generation.
That is why things are as they are.
My brethren, if prayer is anything, then it is everything.
That is exactly what the Word of God teaches. Prayer is not a small part of the Christian life. It is central to it all.