Service to God was with George Muller a passion. In the month of May, 1897, he was persuaded to take at Huntly a little rest from his constant daily work at the orphan houses. The evening that he arrived he said, What opportunity is there here for services for the Lord? When it was suggested to him that he had just come from continuous work, and that it was a time for rest, he replied that, being now free from his usual labours, he felt he must be occupied in some other way in serving the Lord, to glorify whom was his object in life. Meetings were accordingly arranged and he preached both at Huntly and at Teignmouth.
As we cast this last glance backward over this life of peculiar sanctity and service, one lesson seems written across it in unmistakable letters: PREVAILING PRAYER. If a consecrated human life is an _example_ used by God to teach us the _philosophy_ of holy living, then this man was meant to show us how _prayer, offered in simple faith, has power with God._
One paragraph of Scripture conspicuously presents the truth which George Muller's living epistle enforces and illustrates; it is found in James v. 16-18:
"The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much," is the sentence which opens the paragraph. No translation has ever done it justice. Rotherham renders it: "Much avails a righteous man's supplication, working inwardly." The Revised Version translates, "avails much in its working." The difficulty of translating lies not in the _obscurity_ but in the _fulness_ of the meaning of the original. There is a Greek middle participle here (Transcriber's note: The Greek word appears here in parentheses), which may indicate "either the _cause_ or the _time_ of the effectiveness of the prayer," and may mean, through its working, or while it is actively working. The idea is that such prayer has about it supernatural energy. Perhaps the best key to the meaning of these ten words is to interpret them in the light of the whole paragraph:
"Elijah was a man subject to like passions as we are, and he prayed earnestly that it might not rain; and it rained not on the earth by the space of three years and six months. And he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain, and the earth brought forth her fruit."
Two things are here plainly put before us: first, that Elijah was but a man, of like nature with other men and subject to all human frailties and infirmities; and, secondly, that this man was such a power because he was a man of prayer: he prayed earnestly; literally "he prayed with prayer"; prayed habitually and importunately. No man can read Elijah's short history as given in the word of God, without seeing that he was a man like ourselves. Under the juniper-tree of doubt and despondency, he complained of his state and wished he might die. In the cave of a morbid despair, he had to be met and subdued by the vision of God and by the still, small voice. He was just like other men. It was not, therefore, because he was above human follies and frailties, but because he was subject to them, that he is held up to us as an encouraging example of power that prevails in prayer. He laid hold of the Almighty Arm because he was weak, and he kept hold because to lose hold was to let weakness prevail. Nevertheless, this man, by prayer alone, shut up heaven's floodgates for three years and a half, and then by the same key unlocked them. Yes, this man tested the meaning of those wonderful words: "concerning the work of My hands command ye Me." (Isaiah xlv. 11.) God put the forces of nature for the time under the sway of this one man's prayer--one frail, feeble, foolish mortal locked and unlocked the springs of waters, because he held God's key.