Fulton Street PRAYER MEETINGS

 

‘During this spiritual revival, there was a young woman named Sarah ***’.

 

Under the guidance of a remarkable lady, she had taught for several years at a Sunday school and was therefore very familiar with the Gospel of life. Nevertheless, she came to me to ask questions about the fundamental truths of the Christian faith.

She was extremely modest; she scarcely dared to speak of herself and blushed every time she alluded to her circumstances. It was only after a great inner struggle and much hesitation that she had resolved to confide in me her most intimate feelings regarding religion.

“I asked her the question I always ask those who are seeking the truth:

– Do you feel that you are a sinner?

– Yes, sir, but not as much as I ought to be and as I would wish to be.

– But, Sarah! Surely you haven’t been such a great sinner, have you?

She looked up at me with eyes full of astonishment and said:

– Ah! Sir, no words could ever express the extent of my sins.

‘How so?’ I continued. ‘Judging by your outward behaviour, one would not dare to level against you such a heinous accusation as the one you seem to be levelling at yourself. You have always been an obedient child; you attended

church services regularly. So where and when could you possibly have sinned so gravely?’

‘God looks at the heart,’ she replied. ‘He does not judge things as men do, and where man sees only grounds for approval, He condemns; and my conscience tells me that He is right.’ There are so many actions which are regarded as good in the eyes of the world, but which, when examined in the light of divine law, are nothing more than the fruit of selfishness and pride! I realise that my good behaviour, of which I was once so proud, is devoid of any real value or virtue, because of the self-importance and vanity that have always accompanied it. I now see myself as a completely different person now that I have glimpsed my sins; and what torments me most is that, in the face of such grave sins, my sorrow and shame are so slight. Oh! Sir, if only I could feel a deeper sorrow for them, that is all I would ask. I do not feel enough of it.

– ‘Well,’ I replied, ‘let us suppose that you felt your sins more keenly, and that, in your view, this sorrow had reached the intensity you desire — what would be the result? What

would you do?’

– “But it seems to me that I would then lament the extent of my sins more sincerely, and

that it would be easier for me to approach Christ with my burden.

– “That may be true. However, if God did not see fit to make your burden heavier,

and if it were impossible for you to feel your sins more keenly than you do at present, what would your duty be then?”

– “Well… I suppose I would have to go to Christ just as I am.”

– Well, yes, you would have to, otherwise you might not go at all. Since, therefore, you are not certain of this increase in sorrow for your sins, would it not be better to go to Him without delay to obtain salvation? In the meantime, as you are doing, you risk losing what little sorrow you do feel. Be well aware that the world, for its part, will not wait to present you once again with every conceivable temptation; so that, if you are not resolute and do not hurry, you might well fall back into that indifference which has held you back for so long.

At this thought, I saw her start.

– ‘Oh! God forbid!’ she said. ‘But how can I present myself before Him when my heart is so hard? Will He accept a creature so guilty and yet so unrepentant?’

– ‘Try. It costs nothing to try. I don’t believe the Bible specifies the degree to which

our feelings must have reached. ’ It does not say: “Whoever feels deeply will go to Jesus and be saved.”

– “So, if you simply feel that you need Him, go to Him and ask Him to grant you His grace. He said: ‘I will not turn away anyone who comes to me’, and He said that without making any reference to their feelings.”

– That’s true! I can see where I was wrong. But, in a way, it feels as though an insurmountable obstacle stands in the way of my salvation. No matter which way I look, I see nothing but darkness; I feel as though I am shrouded in a dark cloud. How I wish I knew what to do! It seems to me that, to regain hope, I would be capable of anything, even the greatest sacrifices.

– Ah! My dear child, I very much fear, nevertheless, that you are hardly willing to do the one thing that is truly necessary in your situation.

– And what is that, I pray?

– To give up all your own efforts, and simply place yourself in Jesus’ hands;

in other words: to believe! It seems to you that you ought to do something, and, in a certain sense, that is true. But the question remains: what is this work that is required of you? It does not consist in doing this or that, with the aim of appeasing God’s righteous wrath or putting yourself in a position to meet your Saviour. ‘The work of God,’ says Scripture, ‘is that you believe in the One He has sent. When you have done that, the light will shine.’ ”

– You are right; I feel this deeply. I know that I must believe in Christ, and that all my own righteousness is but a filthy rag. Nevertheless, I find it hard to be content with something so simple. I know my own heart well enough not to trust in the effectiveness of my works to secure my salvation. God knows this: I have nothing to offer Him that might draw His

mercy upon me. But when I reflect on the sloth and callousness of my heart, it seems to me that I ought first to ask Him for repentance and obtain it, and that only then could I present myself before my Saviour and receive His forgiveness. Am I, then, wrong to think this way?

– Yes, I believe so. It is a very natural feeling, one I often encounter in people who are convinced of their sin. To go directly to Christ by faith and simply take Him at His word seems far too easy to them; it would be too short a path. They imagine that the best way must be to first attain a certain degree of sorrow and repentance, a feeling of anguish intense enough to draw them to Jesus almost in spite of themselves.

But beware! This attitude of the heart conceals a leaven of self-righteousness. In their minds, this intense feeling—which they do not possess and which they seek to attain—has no other purpose than to make them worthy of Christ’s forgiveness. They hope that this will give them a better chance of obtaining His grace, or, at the very least, make them more willing to throw themselves into His arms. But Jesus welcomes all kinds of sinners, and amongst them, some feel their sin more keenly than others. If you feel like a sinner, you are invited to come. If you feel the need for a Saviour, that is all the preparation you need. And what is so surprising about your heart being as hard as stone and as cold as ice! Be that as it may, do not wait for your nature to improve; nor should you try to improve it yourself; but go to Jesus, who alone can renew it through repentance. It is by gazing upon the Lord on the cross that you will feel your heart of stone being transformed into a heart of flesh. Have you understood?

– I believe so. I want to follow your advice. Pray for me, that I may not merely feel my need for a Saviour, but that I may find Him.

‘Thus ended the conversation. Knowing this young woman’s sound judgement and her insight into all matters relating to the practical aspects of Christianity, I had no doubt that she would soon open her heart to God, and I expected that, at our next meeting, I would have nothing left to do but congratulate her on the change that had taken place within her. But how wrong I was! Darkness was thickening on her path; it was as though all the forces of the abyss had been unleashed against this unfortunate woman. Doubts of every kind assailed her mind: just as she was about to reach the foot of the cross, she had come up against an insurmountable obstacle: her own unbelief.

Just as she was almost within sight of the Promised Land, she had been, so to speak, cast back into the depths of the desert’s solitude, and condemned to endure her pain and despair there. Whenever she tried to pray, a voice whispered in her ear: ‘The prayer of the wicked is an abomination to the Lord’. She then tried to follow her pastor’s advice and turn directly to Christ for help; but, despite her desire, she lacked the strength to do so. As if in some sort of nightmare, she felt as though she were being pursued by a demon, and she exhausted herself in futile efforts to escape it, unable to take a single step. Discouraged and broken by these struggles, she returned to seek her pastor’s counsel and prayers.

‘Who has not been moved by the deepest compassion when speaking with people so battered by the storm and tossed about by the angel of darkness? Who has not, above all, felt their utter helplessness in the face of such anguish? Nothing is more humiliating for a pastor; nothing makes him feel his responsibility more keenly than the visit of a sinner plunged into darkness and despondency, who comes to seek his prayers and advice. In such cases, it is futile to seek first to bring relief: that is not the most pressing need. The soul is in a critical state; it will naturally find relief as soon as it has been able to regain the state of mind required by the Gospel.

Compassion, in such cases, leads to strange errors. One must not rush to apply the balm before examining the wound and alleviating the acute symptoms.

‘So Sarah presented herself before her pastor, her eyes wild, terror etched upon her features.

She could say nothing of what she had been through; her agony was beyond human words. She

seemed to believe that her counsellor had the power to bring her comfort.

‘I see, Sarah, that you have not found peace through faith. ”

She shook her head.

– And why is that?

– I don’t know… I am the most wretched of creatures. I no longer believe in anything; I am tempted

to deny everything, to deny God Himself. Yes, I tremble at the thought! I am almost an atheist. I try to pray, but I cannot; I read, but everything is nothing but darkness. I believe God has abandoned me. I even think, at times, that I may have committed a sin of such gravity that it would be wrong to pray for me.

There is such a sin, isn’t there, Sir?

– I do not think that is the case with you; indeed, I can assure you of the contrary. In my opinion, these suggestions come to you from the Evil One, who seeks to discourage you and turn you away from Christ. This is not even the least of his infernal ruses. He is more eager than one might think to turn souls away from the source of forgiveness and peace. However great your sins may be, they can be forgiven; a single drop of the precious blood of Jesus can atone for them all. Do you remember that it is written: ‘His blood cleanses us from all unrighteousness’?

Do you not believe this word? Does it not bring you comfort?

– In theory, yes, I have always believed it; but when I try to apply it to myself, it seems to me that I am the exception and that it does not apply to me.

– Ah! my dear child, that is unbelief; it is to dishonour God by making Him a liar, and it is to deny the merits and power of Jesus. If His precious blood could not wash away your sins, if His power were incapable of erasing your guilt, then the atonement would be nothing, and God would be a liar. You are venturing into very dangerous territory by setting out on such a

path, for it is to place yourself outside the bounds of salvation, on the pretext that your sins place you there—for which you have no revealed proof, and which is, moreover, directly contrary to the Word of God—.

‘That argument struck a chord with her. After a moment’s reflection, she admitted that, by allowing her thoughts to take such a sceptical turn, she had indeed felt she was making a grave mistake.

— ‘I understand,’ she said, ‘that there can be nothing more horrible than doubting Jesus’ power to save. Do you think this is a temptation from Satan? Do you think God can still forgive me for this sin?

– ‘Yes, I do. And now, I beg you, contemplate the fullness of Christ, and focus

your attention on the passages that present Jesus to sinners as the One who has the power to save perfectly. You are focusing too much on yourself and on what you lack. You see almost nothing but the demands of the Law, and you do not lift your eyes to Him who is the fulfilment of the Law in righteousness for every believer. The commandment came and brought you death; but life is in Christ. It is He who takes the dead sinner—dead by the sting of the Law—and breathes new life into him. Jesus stands between you and the Law which you have broken, and He says to you: ‘Be saved’. He has paid double for every transgression of that Law. From the moment you accept Him as ‘Lord, your righteousness’, the Law no longer has any power over you, neither to condemn you nor to punish you. It has been satisfied by the blood of Christ, and the sinner is set free. Do you understand this?

– I think so; at least, I think I can glimpse a faint glimmer of light. But I fear that once I return home, darkness and unbelief will take hold of me once more.

 

‘And, indeed, she did fall back into that state. The struggle began anew, and for weeks the darkness reigned unrelentingly in her soul; all hope remained closed to her for a long time. What was the result?

Did she, in her despair, consent to give up? No. She was not the sort to yield to evil; on the contrary, she was determined not to abandon the fight, to struggle and pray until her very last breath. If death were to come for her, she wanted to be found, in her final hour, with her eyes fixed on the Cross.

‘With this unshakeable resolve, she continued to struggle and pray amidst anguish and tears, even as she was already passing through the dark valley of the shadow of death. At last, she saw that same ray of light once more. It seemed to emanate from the Cross, and this time, like twilight giving way to dawn, it grew ever brighter. A serenity full of peace finally settled in her soul; she recognised in it the pledge of her forgiveness, as well as the proof that she had passed from death to life.

‘At first, not daring to attach too much credence to these new sensations, nor to believe in the mysterious transformation that had taken place, she kept these things secret and contented herself with meditating on them in her heart. But the time came when she judged it wiser to reveal them to her pastor and her Christian friends. Already, the peace that shone upon her face had drawn their attention to this ‘happy change’. She then did as the woman in the Gospel did who, after sweeping her whole house and searching at length for her drachma, gathered her friends to rejoice with them at having found it.

Having eagerly seized the pearl of great price, Sarah, in turn, gathered together those who had sympathised with her troubles and prayed for her salvation, and she shared her joy with them.

Then, joining their voices with those of the angels, they praised the Lord with gratitude that a sinner had repented, and that a soul that had been lost had been found.

 

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SPLENDID MANIFESTATIONS OF DIVINE GRACE IN THE PRAYER MEETINGS HELD IN VARIOUS PLACES in the years 1857 and 1858, and chiefly on Fulton Street (New York).

 

 

BY SAMUEL-IRENÆUS PRIME