“Neither pray I for these alone, but for all who shall believe in me through their Word: that they all may be one: that the World may believe that thou hast sent me.”—John xvii. 20, 21.
The last earthly act of one we love and honour, is often referred to with deepest interest, and revolved with the most thoughtful attention. It is then that the dying Parent delivers his solemn counsels, and unbosoms his most sacredly cherished feelings. If ever the tenderest and earnest workings of the heart are laid open, it is as the scene draws near and yet nearer to its close.
And as our beloved Saviour approached the termination of His earthly history, the strong commanding feelings of his soul were displayed, and then especially he taught his disciples what sentiments he would have them cultivate, and what objects he would have them propose; whilst by his example, he taught them in what spirit, and by what means to seek those high and holy ends.
It was then, assembled with his disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane, that He as the Great High Priest of Our Profession, breathed forth in earnest prayer, the words before us:—
“The last acts of the Great Mediator, were acts of prayer.”
He prayed! that he might impress his people with the importance of prayer. He made them witnesses of his prayer, that when they hereafter might follow him their divine intercessor, by faith, within the veil, they might know for what ends, and in what spirit, his intercession is carried on. His last acts were prayer. It was in prayer that he closed his last interview with his Apostles. It was in this exercise that he passed his hour of agony in the Garden; and when on the Cross, His dying breath was spent in repeated and solemn application.
Oh! beloved brethren! ’twas a solemn scene;—the adorable Mediator with the shadows of death deepening around him, employed in earnest addresses to his Father. The Garden—the Judgment Seat—the Scourge—the Cross, were full before him. On what now is His spirit bent? On what subjects does he meditate? His prayer will tell, and tell how fully his heart was occupied with the work of mercy—the well-being of his church—the honour of his Father—the salvation of the world. It was then he uttered the prayer in which he sought for his people, that they all may be one, that the world may be converted to him. He had charged them “to love one another.” He had shown them that they were virtually “all one:” By the sacred supper, he had sought to cherish their love and union, and now by his example he taught them to make it the burden of their prayer. And even still his heart longs for this! He looks down from his exalted throne, upon that church which he so much regards, and which he “has purchased with his own blood;” that church to which he has entrusted such a high and glorious work; big with the richest blessings for a ruined and wretched world. He sees that church divided, torn, distracted, alienations and strifes prevailing, whilst the world’s millions are waiting, uninstructed, unenlightened, unblest; and then, having connected the conversion of the world with the unity of the church, he again pours forth the intercession, “Father, may they all be one, that the world may believe that thou hast sent me.”
In the endeavour to fulfil that duty, which the Directors of the London Missionary Society have assigned me, I feel I need your sympathy, and your prayers. I stand before you “in weakness, and in fear, and in much trembling.” From a sense of my own insufficiency to perform this duty aright, as well as from the conviction that I may be standing in the room of some more qualified and acceptable advocate of the cause, I was naturally reluctant to leave the quietude of a country village and place myself in this public situation: on the other hand, believing that this was a call from God