Exodus 33:9-11

The Lord talked with Moses.

Speaking to God

In the minds of many prayer seems to differ widely from other forms of communication. Not perceiving any tangible object of address, they feel as if to pray were to talk with nothing. “How can you pray with vigour into the empty air?” asked a candid doubter. Even Christians sometimes lack the sense of communion, and then prayer is scarcely more than soliloquy in the form of petition. And yet speaking to God is really very much like speaking to men. Since God is a person, address to Him must conform to the general principles of personal address.

I. In speaking to God, as in speaking to men, we must address the invisible. Converse is mental, not physical. The form you see is not the man you talk with. We speak not to the ears which catch the words, but to the mind which perceives the thought. A mere lump of organized clay cannot be a party to conversation. If, then, one asks, How can you pray into empty air? we may reply by asking: How can you talk to a clod of clay? In every case, whatever direction be given to words or other signals of communion, the real address is to mind. One using an acoustic tube apparently speaks to the mouth-piece in the wall. But he really addresses a person in another room. Words are usually directed towards eyes and ears because through these mind is reached. So prayer seems to the prayerless as speech thrown into void space. It is really a direct address to the Infinite Mind which pervades all space.

II. In speaking to God, as in speaking to men, we not only address the invisible, but the presence of a visible form, or symbol of personality, is unnecessary. The blind communicate without seeing a form, and the deaf without hearing a voice. We may speak to a person behind a wall or screen if only assured that he is within call. By letter we address friends hundreds of miles distant. Thus it is evident that prayer to God is only one of many forms of address to mind with no visible form present. We only need to know that the mind addressed is within reach by any means of communication.

III. In speaking to God, as in speaking to men, the enjoyment of communion is variable, and increases with custom and acquaintance. Many people have heard of God, but are not acquainted with Him. They know Him only by reputation. They are not on speaking terms with Him. Hence they have not learned to enjoy His company. They do not love to pray. But let them reverently and sincerely cultivate an acquaintance with God, so as really to know Him, and they will delight in holy communion. (The Study.)

Friendship with God

Mr. Toller, of Kettering, invited a company to meet Robert Hall. Among the guests was Andrew Fuller, who, with Toller, had previously accompanied Hall in a forenoon walk in the country. They returned together at the dinner-hour; and Hall immediately went up alone to his own chamber. The company waited for some time, but he did not appear. At length a messenger was sent to say that dinner was ready. But as the servant approached the chamber, she paused and listened, for Hall was on his knees pleading with God in prayer. When this was repeated to the company, Fuller exclaimed: “Don’t disturb him; he is with his best Friend.”

Friendship with God

Augustine, in his “Confessions,” tells a story, which he heard from his friend Pontitianus, to the following effect. Two courtiers in attendance on the emperor, who was then witnessing the public games, strolled into some gardens, and entering a neighbouring house, which happened to belong to a Christian, were attracted by a manuscript life of the hermit Anthony. As pastime, one of them began to read it, but his curiosity soon grew into a deep conviction, which made him cry out to his friend: “What attainment do we propose to ourselves so great as to be the intimate friends of the emperor? and even when arrived at, how unstable and full of peril is the position? But here, if I wish to be the friend of God, He will receive me immediately!”

Communion with God

There was each morning during his first sojourn in the Soudan one half-hour during which there lay outside Charles George Gordon’s tent a handkerchief, and the whole camp knew the full significance of that small token, and most religiously was it respected by all there, whatever was their colour, creed, or business. No foot dared to enter the tent so guarded. No message, however pressing, was carried in. Whatever it was, of life or death, it had to wait until the guardian signal was removed. Every one knew that God and Gordon were alone in there together.