Chapter 19 of 22

XVI. The Problem of Unanswered Prayer

XVI. The Problem of Unanswered Prayer

XV. Praying for Divine Healing

The subject of Divine Healing is always with me. The infirmities of the flesh have kept it continually among the problems of my faith. In the work of a pastor there is no escape from it. Invalids look wistfully at the statement of the Apostle James concerning the prayer that heals the sick, and seek for guidance. Some are healed by the prayer of faith, and if one, why not another; if some, why not all? I have searched the Scriptures from end to end again and again that I might know the truth, and I have not found the subject easy of solution.

The Problem of Divine Healing

There is healing through the prayer of faith. The truth of this is confirmed by many witnesses who are both sane and saintly. There are those to whom is given the gift of healing, and they lay hands upon the sick and they recover. I myself have been healed through the Prayer of Faith. In my ministry I have been used of God to the healing of the sick. I have never exercised the Ministry of Healing except at the urgent request of the sick and a sure constraint of the Spirit of God. In other cases I have been quite helpless. There are those for whom I would have given my right hand if I could have prayed them to health, but I have had to see them suffer and die. Some have suffered untold anguish of mind because they sought for healing in vain. That has been my problem. While I was yet a young minister, one of the workers of the Church was stricken with disease. We claimed the promises, and some of the best people I have ever known prayed earnestly and believingly for his recovery. We refused to believe that faith could fail. He died while we prayed. The shock to our faith was overwhelming. A sister of my own was an invalid for many years. Devout souls distressed her by the arguments Job’s comforters had hurled at him. Together we searched the Scriptures and inquired of the Lord, beseeching Him that she might be healed. The Lord answered her in a vision, and gave her peace, but not healing. I could multiply such instances on the one side and on the other, and it may be that others have been similarly perplexed.

Witnesses to Divine Healing

There are many witnesses that the Lord is our Healer. A few weeks ago I was in the neighbourhood of Bishop Auckland, where Pastor Jeffries had held a mission some months before. As we were leaving the house where we had called, one of our party expressed regret to her sister that she had not brought some special tablets for her. She had been a martyr to severe pains in the head for years, and this was some new remedy to be tried. She answered gaily, “You needn’t bring them. My head doesn’t need them. The Lord healed me, and I have never had a suspicion of pain since.” Her husband and children confirmed her testimony with the remark: “She is a different woman.” There are many such witnesses. The most remarkable example of Divine Healing I have known took place at the Southport Convention. The Rev. W. H. Tindall was President of the Convention, and the strain of much speaking had brought on a disease of the throat. For more than a year he had not spoken above a whisper, and even that was painful. The specialists gave no hope of recovery. At all the meetings he was a pathetic and silent figure. Prayer was offered for him continually. At the speakers’ prayer-meeting on the Friday morning there was a remarkable intensity and unity of faith. No one could pray for anything but the recovery of Mr. Tindall’s voice. Faith gathered courage, forgot impossibilities, and claimed the promise. Dr. Ebenezer E. Jenkins presided, and when the rest of us rose from our knees Mr. Tindall remained kneeling. Dr. Jenkins said, “This is the most remarkable prayer-meeting I have ever known,” and placing his hand on the President’s head he declared, in the Name of the Lord, that we should hear Mr. Tindall speak in the tent before the Convention closed. That night Mr. Tindall spoke in the tent for fifteen minutes and was heard by twelve hundred people, and he preached without loss of voice to the end of his days. I was present and saw and heard, and there are those still alive to confirm my testimony.

The experience of Stanley Jones as recorded in “The Christ of the Indian Road” is another great illustration of the Divine will and power to heal. Before the supreme missionary opportunity of his life he found himself spiritually impotent and physically broken. “I saw,” he says, “that unless I got help from somewhere I would have to give up my missionary career, go back to America, and go to work on a farm to try to regain my health. It was one of my darkest hours. At that time I was in a meeting at Lucknow. While in prayer, not particularly thinking about myself, a Voice seemed to say, ‘Are you yourself ready for this work to which I have called you?’ I replied, ‘No, Lord, I am done for. I have reached the end of my rope.’ The Voice replied, ‘If you will turn that over to me and not worry about it, I will take care of it.’ I quickly answered, ‘Lord, I close the bargain right here.’ A great peace settled into my heart and pervaded me. I knew it was done! Life—abundant Life—had taken possession of me.… For days after that I hardly knew I had a body. I went through the days, working all day and far into the night, and came down to bed-time wondering why in the world I should ever go to bed at all, for there was not the slightest trace of tiredness of any kind. I seemed possessed by Life and Peace and Rest—by Christ Himself.… Nine of the most strenuous years of my life have gone by since then, and the old trouble has never returned, and I have never had such health. I seemed to have tapped new Life for body, mind, and spirit. Life was on a permanently higher level. And I have done nothing but take it.”

The Rev. Andrew Murray had a very similar experience. After he was healed, he travelled for several years extensively in Europe, America, and South Africa, preaching and speaking daily with great power; and yet when ill, towards the close of his life, he said to his daughter in a voice full of tender sweetness: “My child, I would so much like to hold evangelistic meetings, but God does not see fit to heal me.”

What Saith the Scripture?

The teaching of the Scriptures is the final authority on this subject, as on every other question of faith and life. The teaching of the Bible is for me the last word. I accept it whether I understand it or not. Faith can wait. It is humbling to have to bear the reproachful pity of those who speak with the confident authority of science and philosophy, learning and psychology, but the yoke of Christ is easy when faith is assured and meekness is content to wait God’s time. When Evolution and Revelation seem to be at variance, Faith banks with Revelation. The difficulty is not, however, with the hostility of science and learning, but with the contradictions among those who believe. There are differences of interpretation, but we may leave the disputants to their contentions, and seek to know the truth for ourselves as far as we can.

There is no doubt that the Scriptures teach that the Lord is our Healer. That is one of the names by which He is revealed. It is also beyond dispute that our Lord and Saviour regarded healing as an integral part of His ministry. He was a Physician who healed without medicine all kinds of diseases. He commissioned His Apostles to heal the sick. The gift of healing was, and is, among the gifts of the Spirit. Healing was part of the Apostolic Ministry. The gift has never been withdrawn from the Church. Through all the ages there have been witnesses to its power. The Promise in the Epistle of James is for all time: “The prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him.”

The Bible associates sickness with Satan. God did not make man to be sick. Sickness came with sin. Jesus attributed some sicknesses to the Devil. He said of one woman that Satan had bound her eighteen years (Luke 13:16). In Acts 10:38 we read that “Jesus went about doing good and healing the diseases of all who were oppressed of the Devil.” At the same time, He rebuked those who traced sickness and calamity to personal sinfulness. “Neither hath this man sinned nor his parents, that he should be born blind.”

Sickness and sin are associated in redemption and healing. St. Matthew sees in the Healing Ministry of our Lord the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy. “He cast out the spirits with His word, and healed all that were sick; that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Esaias the prophet, saying, Himself took our infirmities, and bare our sicknesses” (Matt. 8:16, 17). He bare our sicknesses as He bare our sins, for they were part of the same burden. It cannot mean that they were transferred to Him, for, so far as we know, He was never sick, but in sympathy and at great cost in physical and mental virtue He lifted their burden and bore it away. The sickless Christ bare our sickness, as the sinless Christ bare our sins. When He healed the palsied man who was let down through the roof, He began with his sin. Others whom He healed He commanded to sin no more, and the passage in St. James links healing with forgiveness. There is a passage of St. Paul’s (1 Cor. 11:31, 32) that traces sickness and even death to spiritual dishonour.

There is sickness in which there is no sin. It may be true theologically that all sickness came from sin, but experimentally there is a sickness that is of grace. Scripture must interpret Scripture. The affliction of Job was of grace. It was to the glory of God. Paul’s thorn in the flesh was not of sin. Satan took advantage of it, but God gave it for the glory of His grace. Paul healed others, but he accepted his own sufferings as part of the afflictions of Christ. Epaphroditus was healed of the Lord (Phil. 2:27), Trophimus he had to leave at Miletum sick (2 Tim. 4:20), for Timothy’s stomach he recommended a moderate use of wine (1 Tim. 5:23), and on his travels there went with him, Luke, the beloved physician.

I Believe in Divine Healing

I believe in the healing power of faith. Apart from religion there is, generally speaking, health for the man who lives by faith. Sickness is of the mind rather than of the flesh. Divine Healing is more than healing by faith. It is not to be confused with hypnotism and auto-suggestion. The Lord is the Healer. The faith is in Him. The grounds of my faith are in Him. I trust His Word, the redeeming work of Christ, and the sanctifying power of His Spirit Who quickens our mortal bodies. The main concern is to know the will of God. Sickness may be chastisement for disobedience, and by faith the cause may be removed, the sin forgiven, and health restored. I am bound to believe that sickness may be in the will of God, for the purpose of discipline, for the glory of His grace, and the Ministry of Christ.

I am sure that Divine Healing is a fact; and that the gift of healing waits within the Church for the prayer of faith.

I am sure that many people are sick who ought never to have been sick, and who might now be healed.

I am sure that no life is so health-giving and so radiant as the life of joyous and obedient faith.

I am sure I believe with all my heart and mind in Divine Healing, in spite of the fact that I am often ailing.

XVI. The Problem of Unanswered Prayer

It is many years since I first wrote on Unanswered Prayer. The problem became acute when the man for whom we were praying so earnestly and confidently died while we prayed. The shock of it was overwhelming. It had never occurred to us that he might die. We had claimed the promise. We were absolutely sure of the Word. I do not think my faith was ever so sorely tried. We went back to the Word, and God gave me a message that has brought consolation to many, and through all the years it has been a stronghold for my trust. Many years have passed since then, but the truth abides, and though it may involve some repetition, I want to pass on the message to others.

The Problem

There can be no doubt that God answers prayer. On this point the Scriptures speak plainly enough. Nothing could be more definite. All men are commanded to pray, at all times, in all places, and for all needs. Assurances abound that prayer is heard. The promises are explicit, and the Scriptures are full of examples and encouragement. Christ’s own word is, “Every one that asketh receiveth” (Matt. 7:8). The scope of the promise is without limit of place (1 Tim. 2:8), time (Luke 18:1; 1 Thess. 5:17), or subject (John 16:23; Matt. 21:22; Phil. 4:6). Everything that concerns man is of interest to God, and is a proper subject for prayer. God does not divide our needs into sacred and secular, spiritual and material. He who taught us to pray for the forgiveness of our sins, taught us also to say, “Give us this day our daily bread.”

Yet, as we have studied the subject, it has been made clear that there are conditions and limitations. There are laws of prayer. The unrestricted promises are hedged about with conditions. We are commanded to pray for all men, but there were some for whom the Prophet was forbidden to pray (Jer. 7:16, see also 1 John 5:15, 16). It is possible to ask and not receive (Ps. 66:18; James 4:2, 3). Prayers that lack sincerity and faith cannot be heard. This is obvious. God judges by the heart. So do we. No one grants requests where these simple elements are wanting. The sincerity must extend to both petition and petitioner. Eloquence is not prayer (Isa. 29:13; John 9:31; James 4:6; 1 John 3:22).

Are all the sincere, earnest, believing prayers of good people granted?

The answer of experience is, No. I have seen a distracted mother cling to the corpse of her child, refusing to believe it was dead. She had prayed. God had promised. She had believed. He heard, always heard. How could her child die? When at last the truth has forced itself upon her protesting mind, the distress deepens at the thought that God has not heard. There are many such days of desperate faith. Is God angry, as in the case of David (2 Sam. 12:14–23), even though there be no such cause? Can it be that He is indifferent? Can it be that He does not know? Has He forgotten? Is it any use to pray? It was with such thoughts as these that I turned to my Bible, and found the answer in three representative cases:—

1.      Deut. 3:23–29, where Moses prayed that he might go over into Canaan.

2.      1 Kings 19:4. Elijah’s prayer that he might die.

3.      2 Cor. 12:8, 9, in which Paul prayed for the removal of affliction.

These three men occupy a prominent place in Scripture, and yet each was denied his request. Their prayers are fairly representative, and cover the ground of the problem.

The Prayer of Moses

Moses prayed that he might be allowed to complete his work. He had undertaken it at God’s command. For forty years he had nursed and led a murmuring and ungrateful people through the wilderness. The promised land was within sight. What more natural than that he should desire to see his life-work completed? Besides, to all human judgment he could not be spared. He would be needed in Canaan even more than in the wilderness. There were enemies to be driven out, the constitution to be established, and the people to be settled. If he should leave them now, the work of forty years would fall to pieces. Internal strife would wreck the nation. No wonder he prayed that he might go over. In spite of a nation’s entreaty, regardless of his record, and notwithstanding his earnest pleading, he died; died with his work unfinished; died when he seemed to be most needed; died with the hope of years at last within his reach.

Is it not often so?

A life-work is accepted as a Divine appointment. The powers of brain and muscle, time and energy, all a man is goes into the task at the cost of personal comfort and ambition. You pray for your work, that God will prosper it and bless you in it. That is right. No man has a right to be in any business for which he cannot pray. God does not put a man into business for worthless or unworthy ends. He means the work to prosper; and yet how often it happens that the prayers of good men seem to fail. Plans over which they have prayed collapse. Competitors prevail. Misfortune overwhelms. Ill health disables. Death calls, and the work of years is left unfinished. Death at such times seems almost spiteful in its cruelty. It strikes the arm as it stretches the hand to grasp the prize; takes the parent and counsellor when he can least be spared; passes by the weakly and takes the strong; strikes down the burden-bearer and spares the burden. We plead that we may stay a little longer: only a little while; just till this is completed; just till the children are grown up, or the business settled; and the answer is, “Get thee up into the top of Pisgah”—and die. David wanted to build a House for God. His heart was set on it. God praised him for wanting to do it, but He forbade him (1 Chron. 22:8). So is many a heart set with a yearning that prays and aches for a work that is withheld. The man Jesus saved with a mighty salvation prayed that he might go with Jesus, and Jesus sent him home (Luke 8:38).

Juniper Tree Prayers

Elijah was mighty in prayer. God answered all his prayers but one, and that was the prayer that he might die. He was under the juniper tree, suffering from mental and physical reaction. Yesterday had been a great day. He had stood alone as God’s champion: strong, defiant, triumphant. The next day was the day after! At the threat of a woman he fled. His nerves were unstrung. Fear, despondency, and despair took hold of him. In the fret and frenzy of depression he prayed that he might die. The disease is still with us, and is so multiplied that there are not enough juniper trees to go round. There are morbid Christians who have built tabernacles under them. Nerve collapse is more spiritual than physical, though it is usually both. There is no despondency in faith. What a mercy God does not always take us at our word. Nothing dishonours God more than the fretful despondency of the saints. Juniper trees make poor sanctuaries.

The Apostle’s thorn in the flesh need not detain us, for we have already dealt with the subject of prayer and affliction. The thorn was a physical affliction, and because he regarded it as a hindrance he prayed for its removal. It was not removed, though he besought the Lord thrice. He had to learn that affliction may be God’s messenger, as well as the messenger of Satan.

The Answer to Unanswered Prayers

None of these prayers was unanswered. They were not granted, but they were answered, and “No” was the answer. “No” is as truly an answer as “Yes.” When a request is refused, it is as truly answered as when it is granted. Refusal may be the only answer possible to love and wisdom and truth. A child may cry for a razor, and full-grown people may cry for things equally unsuitable, unsafe, and unwise. Many have lived to thank God that He withstood their agonising entreaties at some particular time or for some particular thing that seemed indispensable.

God never refuses without reason. He knows the past, in which there may be reasons for present disqualification. Forgiven sin may disable. Moses and David were both examples of this (Deut. 32:49–52; 2 Sam. 12:14). There are vessels that break on the wheel, and though another may be made, the original is impossible. Diseases may be healed, but a lost limb cannot be restored. The Lord knows the future as well as the past. The immediate may imperil the future. The eagerness for a mess of pottage may involve the loss of an inheritance. Esau got the answer to his entreaty at dinner-time. Jacob got his at dawn. God spared Hezekiah fifteen years, but he had better have gone when the Lord sent for him.

The Greater Includes the Less

Delays are not denials, and it pays to wait God’s time. Moses got into Canaan, and Elijah went to heaven by a more glorious way than that of the juniper tree. No inspired prayer of faith is ever refused. “No” is never God’s last word. If the prayer seems unanswered, it is because it is lost in the glory of the answer when it comes. God may refuse the route because He knows a better, and He took Moses into Canaan by a better way and in better company. I have known other people who have had to go by way of heaven to find the answer to their prayers. He took Elijah to heaven by a much more wonderful way than that of the grave. He wanted to die, and God gave His tired servant sleep and rest, and sent him away to the hills for a holiday. That is His remedy for nerves: a change of air, a new vision, and a bigger job. Paul never had any use for juniper trees, and to him God said, “My grace is sufficient for thee,” and He taught him to glory in affliction and adversity. In the experience that first sorely tried our faith, God sent help out of the darkness. Through the tears of a broken heart the vision came, and when the memorial card was sent it bore this text, which rebuked our unbelief, “He asked life of Thee, and Thou gavest it him, even length of days for ever and ever.” So in Glory shall we find our prayers have been interpreted according to the infinite wisdom and eternal love of God our Father, Who bids us pray

“Unanswered yet! The prayers your lips have pleaded

In agony of heart these many years?

Does faith begin to fail? Is hope departing?

And think you all in vain those falling tears?

Say not, the Father hath not heard your prayer,

You shall have your desire—sometime—somewhere.

“Unanswered yet! Though when you first presented

This one petition at the Father’s Throne

It seemed you could not wait the time of asking,

So urgent was the heart to make it known;

Though years have passed since then, do not despair,

The Lord will answer you—sometime—somewhere.

“Unanswered yet! Nay, do not say ungranted,

Perhaps your work is not wholly done.

The work began when first your prayer was uttered,

And God will finish what He has begun.

If you will keep the incense burning there,

His glory you shall see—sometime—somewhere.

“Unanswered yet! Faith cannot be unanswered;

Her feet are firmly planted on the Rock;

Amid the wildest storms she stands undaunted,

Nor quails before the loudest thunder shock.

She knows Omnipotence has heard her prayer,

And cries, ‘It shall be done—sometime—somewhere.’ ”

E. B. Browning.

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