‘If you try to pray without ceasing because you want to be very pious and good, you will never succeed,’ warns Andrew Murray. There is only one way to a life of unceasing prayer, and it is not found in us, but in Jesus. ‘Christ makes us partakers with Him of His prayer-power and His prayer-life.’ And so it is Jesus who is ‘responsible for our praying without ceasing.’

Murray comes to prayer without ceasing in the last chapter of his classic With Christ in the School of Prayer. There he tells us that in this school:

Christ teaches us to pray by showing us how He does it, by doing it in us, and by leading us to do it in Him and like Him. Christ is everything – the life and the strength – for a never-ceasing prayer life. Seeing Christ’s continuous praying as our life enables us to pray without ceasing.

It is only because Christ’s life is now our life that ‘praying without ceasing can become the joy of heaven here on earth,’ for ‘never-ceasing prayer is the manifestation of the power of the eternal life where Jesus always prays.’

Prayer without ceasing depends entirely upon our union with Christ, and ‘in union with Him’ ceaseless prayer can become ‘a reality, the holiest and most blessed part of our holy and blessed fellowship with God.’

What is a life of ceaseless prayer? Murray writes that it’s a life where ‘the inmost life of the soul is continually rising upward in dependence, faith, longing desire, and trustful expectation.’


You can read the previous posts in this series here:

• Part 1 - Praying Always: A Pentecostal Perspective
• Part 2 - Praying Always: D.P. Williams on Communion with God in the Life of Prayer

Christians are called to a life of prayer. And, D.P. Williams explains, that life of prayer is a life of ‘deeper communion with God.’ Yet, we cannot climb up to communion with God, but can only be welcomed in by God’s grace to us in Jesus and by His Spirit. So, the life of prayer is not our accomplishment, but God’s gift. 

That we spend time with Him in prayer behind the scene and that every child of God should be a vessel for the Holy Ghost to intercede, and to pray inwardly, and to liberate the inner man into deeper communion with God in the life of prayer, until you lose your words, not because you have not got words, but because your words are lost in the end in groans and sobs unto Him.

The Bible tells us to ‘pray without ceasing’ (1 Thess. 5:17), ‘praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit’ (Eph. 6:18). Jesus Himself taught ‘that men always ought to pray and not lose heart’ (Lk 18:1). Perhaps, though, we are tempted to skip over the words ‘without ceasing’ and ‘always.’ Surely that’s just impossible anyway, we might think. And yet, it is the plain teaching of God’s Word. Those who trust in Christ are called to ‘pray without ceasing.’

The early Pentecostals saw the importance of this. Ps Arthur Lewis compared prayer to breathing in an article in the Riches of Grace in 1936. ‘Our breathing is normal under ordinary conditions,’ he wrote, ‘but when extra bodily effort is demanded, it deepens, becomes abnormal.’ Ps Lewis used this difference between all-the-time normal breathing and specifically needed abnormal breathing to explain the difference between two types of prayer (which he called prayer and supplication).

‘Prayer is our normal breathing … but Supplication is our abnormal breathing,’ he wrote. This prayer that he compared to normal breathing is prayer, which like normal breathing, should be going on all the time. ‘Pray always (or else we cannot live).’ The supplication, which is like the abnormal breathing when extra bodily effort is needed, is the prayer needed at specific times and on specific occasions, whether set daily prayer at home alone, or a prayer meeting together with the church. Supplication is necessary and very important, but, Ps Lewis says, it depends on the normal breathing of constant prayer. ‘Our ordinary prayer, if real, opens the way for our supplication to be effectual, and with thanksgiving.’ Our ‘natural prayer’ during the day ‘will prepare our “lungs” to make the special effort’ of supplication.

The possibility of prayer without ceasing – of praying like breathing – depends entirely upon ‘the glorious consummation of Calvary.’ It is only as we look to Christ crucified for us that we can know ‘a restfulness’ which enables a vital life of prayer. Such restfulness in Christ ‘enables us to bear the burden of need, however great it may be, before His Throne with thankfulness.’

As we grow in a life of prayer without ceasing, we will grow in the confidence that the Father hears our prayer, not only by the visible answers to prayer He gives, but also ‘as evidenced by that quiet assurance in our hearts’ which He provides by the Holy Spirit.

So, as we grow into a life of prayer without ceasing, we are growing in a life of conscious fellowship with the Holy Trinity: with the Father, to whom we prayer and who hears us; with the Son, in whose name we pray, and in whose merit we trust; and with the Holy Spirit, by whom we pray, who lifts our prayers to heaven, and who brings the assurance of heaven to our hearts.

1. Before praying for anyone, or any cause, the spirit must be free towards God and Man.

2. We should not talk about any person, without being able to pray for such at the same time.

3. When praying, we should be on our guard not to be the accusers of the brethren. Avoid the spirit of condemnation while praying. It is the devil's work to accuse the brethren.

4. While praying, we ought to know how to deal with the cause of the wrong, then with the effect.

5. While praying, we must be always open to be searched by the Spirit as to our narrow-mindedness, and let Him enlarge our hearts towards all. The throne that we approach is universal. The Holy Spirit in His divine agency is universal, so we much be possessed with a universal heart. We are indebted to all.

6. Prayer must not be pointed at persons, but about persons for their good.

7. Prayer must be definite; never pray at random.

8. We must be prepared to fulfill our own prayers, when the Will of God had revealed in prayer what our part is.

9. The hills before us may appear clear and near, but the valley between may be dark and isolated. To climb to its summit may be very difficult. The visions of truth on the hills of revelation seem beautiful, admirable, and attractive, but to reach the heights requires perseverance and faithfulness to climb. To go down the dark valley of subjection and nothingness demands humility.

10. If we will allow God to humble us, He will not allow others to do it.

11. What appears to man to be our humiliation can, in the Will of God, be our exaltation in His due time. The way to the Throne is the Cross.

12. We cannot scold nor dragoon men to love Christ. It is not by dogs and sticks that the Good Shepherd leads the flock.

13. Christian influence is like the dew, refreshing; like the dawn, illuminating and invigorating.

14. It is like the light penetrating through the dark.

15. It is like salt purifying all with its influence, counteracting putrefaction. These agents all do their work quietly.

16. People that have their own schemes very often shut God out.

17. Troubles and trials are the goads to drive us to prayer. Prayer is the goad to drive them away.

The Breaking of Bread was at the very heart of early Pentecostal piety here in the UK. If you really want to understand the spirituality of the early British Pentecostals, you need to observe them gathered around the Lord's Table. Like Charles Spurgeon before them, they considered the Lord's Supper to be 'the Holy of Holies ... the most sacred meeting-place between our souls and God.' At the Breaking of Bread, they expected to know and enjoy the closest and richest fellowship with Christ.

Of course we don't have a time machine to go back to early Pentecostal Breaking of Bread services. But what we do have are what they've left us written down about the Breaking of Bread, in their teaching, their testimonies, and their hymns.

The great pioneer of the academic study of Pentecostalism, Walter Hollenweger, famously observed that much of Pentecostal theology is passed on not by 'the summa theologica but the song'. 'Hymns,' Hollenweger wrote, 'are more decisive in their influence on the religious belief and practice of Pentecostals than is the literature of the Pentecostal movement. A Pentecostal lives with his hymns. He knows fifty or a hundred hymns, with several verses, by heart, as well as innumerable choruses ... The Pentecostal movement teaches people to sing who would otherwise remain dumb.'

So, where better to get a proper idea of early Pentecostal eucharistic piety than in their own Communion hymns!

D.P. Williams was one of the most prolific hymnwriters of early British Pentecostalism, and certainly the most prolific hymnwriter of the Apostolic Church. That so few of his hymns are known today is down to the fact that nearly all of them were written in Welsh. So, in order to retrieve a glimpse of an authentic Pentecostal piety centred on the Breaking of Bread, I've translated a few of D.P. Williams' Communion hymns.

Below you can find the translated words and links to Youtube lyric videos with the translated songs sung to the original tunes suggested in our Welsh hymnbook. But, of course, they would all work well to new tunes as well, if anyone ever wanted to give that a go! (I've put the videos together as a Playlist on YouTube here.)

With Reverence Lord

(If you can't see the video, click here.)

1. With reverence, Lord, to You in love Bowed at Your feet, I come; Though there’s no merit found in me I trust what Christ has done. 2. I know I’ll true acceptance find, The Cross is on my side! No law can ever turn away Calvary’s crimson tide. 3. Christ our Beloved Great High Priest Bring us to Heaven’s Throne; And for our pilgrimage on earth We trust Your grace alone. 4. Now once again, as oft before O Christ, I seek Your face; With You, my Shepherd, I’ll not lack Yours is abundant grace. 5. Fullness of Heaven’s peace I find, Here, as with You I meet, Riches of earth, with such a feast Never can they compete! 6. This Gracious Grape, my soul’s delight Will feed me with the Son; Here grace shows forth through this dark night, Your death until You come.

You Call Us, Lord, to Hear

(If you can't see the video, click here.)

1. You call us, Lord, to hear The gracious Word You’ve giv’n, Your heav’nly purpose now, To Break the Bread of Heav’n, Beneath the Cross this Table stands, You bid us come, with nail-pierced hands. 2. Betrayed unto the Cross, The Cov’nant ratified; You call us now to gaze On God’s wrath satisfied. From that wine Judas turned his feet – Heav’n and earth at this Table meet. 3. Good Jesus, I know not, In what way it could be, That You your body give, To us here from the Tree; Blessing is found in the cursed Cross, And Heaven through Your pain and loss. 4. Here at Your Table Lord, Through Your feast we draw near, Pour out Your Spirit now, To know Your presence dear; From this dark world, our eyes lift up, As we drink from redemption’s cup.

Jesus, My Heart's One True Desire!

(If you can't see the video, click here.)

1. Jesus, my heart’s one true desire! Longs, my soul, to see Your face; Joy in fullness, in Your presence, There enjoying richest grace: Sweet communion with my Saviour, Fellowship with Christ, ‘tis bliss! Here You feed me with Your body, Wonder of the Cross is this! 2. Here to gaze upon my Saviour, Sinless Lamb, for sinners slain; Love and mercy, deep compassion, Pard’ning Sin, for us You came: As I gaze upon Your glory, As I gaze upon Your Cross, You transform me to your image, All but Christ, I count but loss. 3. Here I see my Saviour’s merit, In His blood shed on the Tree; His blood’s glory has more beauty Than all this world offers me: Jesus! Only You my Saviour! None but You can satisfy! Jesus! My delight, My treasure! I rejoice for You are nigh! 4. Fading are all this world’s splendours, Nothing can with You compare. The slain Lamb is all my glory; Never let me roam elsewhere. Your smile shines with light of Heaven, To see Your face, bliss divine. Feasting ever at Your Table, I delight to call You mine.

O Lord Jesus, to You I come

(If you can't see the video, click here.)

1. O Lord Jesus, to You I come, In prayer, now your presence crave; Humbly I bow down to confess O Lord, none but You can save! Here in Your blood I’ve communion – This blest cup, my heart’s delight; Clinging to Your feet here in love, Your grace keeps me, day and night. 2. Here by grace, I look upon You, See the beauty of Your face; To the wretched You show Your love To the lowly, here, Your grace. In the Garden and Golgotha, Crown of thorns and piercèd side, Through Your agony and merit, Peace with God, and healing tide. 3. Here the substance of salvation, Here I feed from Calv’ry’s Cross, Here I taste a full salvation, By Life’s Author’s death and loss; All our enemies defeated: Christ has conquered death and hell! On my knees, I’ll join Your vict’ry, By Your merit, in You dwell. 4. Breathe Your Spirit now upon me, Draw me to Your heart in prayer; Grant me peace and sweet communion, To enjoy Your presence there. Purify my heart with Your love, By Your grace, perfect my ways; May I glorify my Saviour And obey Him all my days.

Jesus gives a warning in Matthew 7:21-23 to people who seem to know (or at least think they know) all about the gifts of the Spirit. They say to Him, ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name, cast out demons in Your name, and done many wonders in Your name?’ (Mt 7:22), and He says to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from Me’ (Mt 7:23)!

As good Evangelical Protestants, the early Pentecostals were well aware of (and frequently warned of) the dangers of ‘false mysticisms, carnal visions and dreams’ (D.P. Williams, Herald of Grace 5.7, p.125; cf. 5.11, p.220). Yet, the rejection of false mysticism doesn’t mean the rejection of a mystical theology. This is a point made not only by early Pentecostals, but also by well-respected conservative evangelical figures such as Martyn Lloyd Jones, who wrote:

There are, unfortunately, even many evangelical Christians who deny that God has any direct dealings with men today, and who hold feeling and emotion at a discount. They frequently substitute for true emotion a flabby sentimentalism. They are afraid of the power of the Holy Spirit, and so afraid of certain excesses which are sometimes found in mysticism and in certain people who claim to have unusual experiences of the Holy Spirit, that they ‘quench the Spirit’ and never have any personal knowledge of Christ. Indeed, they often go so far as to deny the possibility of such a knowledge. (The Unsearchable Riches of Christ, p.247)

The Pentecostals, like their Puritan forbears (that might sound like an odd statement in a context like North America, but British Pentecostalism certainly traces its roots back, via the Welsh Revivals, to the experiential piety of many of the Puritans) sought to avoid the dangers of either a false mysticism, detached from the Word, or a purely speculative theology, which divided mind from heart. Neither a feeling of knowing by encounter, nor a mere knowing about God is enough. God is known neither by feeling nor by speculation, but only in Christ through the Holy Spirit, by the Word.

So, D.P. Williams warns: ‘There is always the danger of being deceived by being satisfied with the knowledge about God, and not attaining to the knowledge of His excellences in Jesus Christ.’ (Herald of Grace 5.11, p.220). He’s not disparaging theology, but warning against being satisfied with what he calls a mere ‘mental theology’, a theology which is limited to an intellectual activity and does not cross over into relationship with Christ. For, as contemporary Pentecostal theologian Simon Chan puts it, theology is ‘not a disinterested observation but a personal engagement with God and with God’s glory’ (Spiritual Theology, p.16).

Instead of this ‘mental theology’, what we need is not no theology (Williams never disparages or underestimates the importance of theology!), but rather a ‘mystical theology’. This is a theology which ‘is the outcome of divine acquaintanceship with God in Christ’, a ‘knowledge of the heart’ (as opposed to merely of the intellect) which ‘knows God with an intimate friendship’ and ‘produces sacred love towards Him’ (Herald of Grace, 5.10, p.199).

A mere ‘mental theology’ will not lead to spiritual growth, for it relies on our own natural methods, and ‘the best of our natural methods are only obstructions to spiritual growth’ (5.12, p.226). Instead, we need ‘the divine love of God [which] penetrates the soul where mere knowledge cannot’ (5.10, p.199).

Yet, such love is not found in a mysterious and ineffable mystic encounter, but only through the Cross of Christ (6.4, p.75). That means, this isn’t some extra-Scriptural thing reserved for a few special people, but rather a love which is openly declared in God’s Written Word and available to all those who trust in the Crucified Saviour. Our apprehension of this divine love comes as the outpoured Holy Spirit opens our eyes to the revelation of Christ in the Word (5.12), and through the sacrament of the Breaking of Bread (6.3).

Interestingly, this mystical theology of Pentecostalism doesn’t only have parallels in the contemplative-mystical piety of some of the Puritans (for a good example, read Tom Schwanda’s book on Isaac Ambrose – Soul Recreation: The Contemplative-Mystical Piety of Puritanism), but also with Patristic and Eastern Christianity.

D.P. Williams published the series of articles I’ve been drawing on in 1945, and only the previous year Vladimir Lossky had published his celebrated book, The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church. (Of course, Lossky’s book was published originally in French, which D.P. Williams didn’t read, and only appeared in English translation after Williams’ death. So I’m not suggesting any dependence here, only noting the interesting similarity in emphasis.) Lossky defines ‘mystical theology’ as ‘no more than a spirituality which expresses a doctrinal attitude’ (p.7). For the Eastern church, Lossky tells us ‘theology and mysticism support and complete each other. One is impossible without the other’ (p.8).

Like Williams, Lossky is keenly aware of ‘mysticism in the bad sense of the word’ which is ‘a mingling of truth and of falsehood, of reality and of illusion’ (p.9). Yet, this false mysticism must not scare us aware from the mystical nature of true theology, for ‘there is … no Christian mysticism without theology; but, above all, there is no theology without mysticism’ (p.9).

The mystical or relationship aspect of Christianity – its spirituality to use a currently more popular expression – cannot be divided from or lived apart from Christian dogma. ‘Spirituality and dogma, mysticism and theology, are inseparably linked in the life of the Church’ (p.14). And so, we cannot choose between doctrine and spirituality – between theology and a relationship with Christ. Our relationship is doctrinally grounded. And so:

it is impossible to expound spirituality otherwise than in a dogmatic form, dogma being its outward expression, the only objective evidence of an experience which the Church affirms … Doctrinal tradition – beacons set up … along the channel of the knowledge of God – cannot be separated from or opposed to mystical tradition: acquired experience of the mysteries of the faith. Dogma cannot be understood apart from experience; the fullness of experience cannot be had apart from true doctrine. (p.236).

True theology should be mystical theology: a theology which isn’t satisfied with knowledge about God, but which leads to knowing God in Christ by the Spirit, and always rooted in the sacrifice of Calvary and the Written Word of Scripture.

When I was first called to the pastorate, one of the things I’m glad I did was spend an afternoon with my own first pastor. And I mean very first: he moved away from Londonderry when I was only a few days old. But, before he went, he came up to the hospital to visit the new baby, and convinced the nurses to let him lift me out of the incubator to pray for me because I was sick. And he prayed, and I was healed.

Anyway, one not so summery afternoon in August, 27 years later, we had ice-cream and tea by the Welsh seaside and he told me some wise things for which I am very thankful. Lately, however, I’ve been thinking of one particular thing which he said, as I’ve been reading the same thought from about 1100 years earlier from the pen of Symeon the New Theologian. What observation did an elderly Welsh Pentecostal pastor make in common with a medieval Byzantine monk? ‘Our problem,’ said my pastor, ‘is that there are no longer any tears at the Lord’s Table.’

Symeon would have seen that as equally problematic. ‘Brother,’ wrote the New Theologian, ‘never communicate without tears!’ (Discourses, iv.1). For Symeon, these tears that were so needed at the Lord’s Table were tears of compunction: tears which flow from repentance.

No one ever became holy or received the Holy Spirit, or had the vision of God or experienced His dwelling within himself, or ever had Him dwelling in his heart, without previous repentance and compunction and constant tears ever flowing as from a fountain. (Discourses, iv.10)

Those who partake of the Lord’s Supper worthily are those who live in repentance and mourn their sins. ‘He who … spends his whole life with groanings and tears is most worthy, not only on the feast day, but every day … to partake [daily] of these divine Mysteries’ (Discourses, iv.13).

What begin as tears of godly sorrow are turned, through true repentance and faith in Christ, into ‘sweet’ tears which bring ‘increasing joy in our hearts’ (Discourses, iv.16). It is only those who have wept in repentance and the joy of salvation who will grow to maturity in godly virtues and ‘be conscious of the Holy Spirit dwelling in us’ (Discourses, iv.16).

Now, don’t misunderstand tears at the Breaking of Bread. Tears at the Table are never tears for Christ. As Irénée Hausherr points out in his book on compunction (Penthos: The Doctrine of Compunction in the Christian East), ‘weeping for Christ is not Christian’ (p.6). Why not? Because at the Table we’re not mourning a dead Christ, but meeting with a living Lord.

The Breaking of Bread isn’t a funeral meal. And so tears at the Table aren’t tears of mourning Christ’s death. The only mourning we’re called to is mourning for our sins. And at the Table, we meet with the one whose blood was shed so that those sins would be forgiven. So, tears at the table aren’t tears of mourning Christ’s death, but tears as we see at the Table the immense gravity and guilt of our sin, and tears of joy as we see what the Lord Jesus has done to make an end to our sin forever.

Tears don’t mean that the Table is a sad place. Far from it! But tears do remind us that the Table is a serious place. These are not light and inconsequential moments that we spend in the presence of our Lord, but rather, here we have a powerful and holy encounter, as Isaiah had in the year that King Uzziah died (Isa. 6). When Isaiah saw that he was in the presence of the Lord, he cried out ‘woe is me!’ (Isa. 6:5). In the presence of the Holy God, Isaiah recognised the depths of his sin. And yet the Lord cleansed him and raised him up. And we too, as we come into the presence of our Holy God, as we gather around His Table, we see the majesty of His glorious holiness and that opens our eyes to the gravity of our sin and our need for His cleansing. Tears at the Table are a good thing, because tears at the Table flow from a recognition of the reality that we are meeting with the saving God who is majestic in holiness.

Happy Easter! To celebrate this Easter Monday I've translated an early Pentecostal Resurrection hymn from the original Welsh to English. D.P. Williams, one of the most important leaders in the early days of the Apostolic Church (and British Pentecostalism more widely), wrote hundreds of hymns which were sung for many years by Welsh-speaking Pentecostal churches. Unfortunately, because there aren't many (or perhaps now any??) Welsh-speaking Pentecostal assemblies today, these treasures of early Pentecostal praise have largely been forgotten. So, here's my attempt to recover one of them through a meagre English translation.

1. Christ Jesus came from Heaven,
Stooped even to the grave;
God the Son clothed in our flesh
A multitude to save.
Hosanna! Hallelujah!
Praise to the Lamb of Grace;
Who died for us on Calv’ry
And suffered in our place.

2. Christ Jesus rose triumphant
The third day from the grave.
He death, by death, defeated
From death’s cold chains to save;
Ascended into Heaven,
He ever intercedes,
At God’s right hand enthronèd,
His precious blood He pleads.

3. He will be seen returning
On Heaven’s clouds He’ll come,
And saints and angels with Him,
The multitude He won;
And peace and perfect justice,
As water of the sea,
With knowledge of Jehovah
The whole earth filled will be.

4. And then the grace of Heaven
Will fill to full the earth;
And peace will flow like rivers,
Of war there’ll be a dearth.*
And love will reign victorious,
In Heaven and earth below,
And every tongue praise Jesus,
While endless ages flow.