It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country
was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the
holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands
playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers
hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding
and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness
of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched
down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the
proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering
them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by;
nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot
oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and
which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones
of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while;
in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and
country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid
in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which
moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time,
and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove
of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway
got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal
safety's sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended
no more in that way.
Sunday morning came -- next day the battalions would leave
for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were
there, their young faces alight with martial dreams -- visions
of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing
charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult,
the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! Then
home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged
in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear
ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends
who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of
honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest
of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from
the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it
was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and
with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating
hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation
*God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion
and lightning thy sword!*
Then came the "long" prayer. None could remember
the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful
language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful
and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble
young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their
patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle
and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make
them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset;
help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag
and country imperishable honor and glory --
An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless
step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister,
his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet,
his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract
to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even
to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering,
he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the
preacher's side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the
preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued with his
moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered
in fervent appeal, "Bless our arms, grant us the victory,
O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!"
The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside
-- which the startled minister did -- and took his place.
During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with
solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep
voice he said:
"I come from the Throne -- bearing a message from Almighty
God!" The words smote the house with a shock; if the
stranger perceived it he gave no attention. "He has heard
the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it
if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall
have explained to you its import -- that is to say, its full
import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in
that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of --
except he pause and think.
"God's servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has
he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two
-- one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of
Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken.
Ponder this -- keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing
upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse
upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing
of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are
possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor's crop which
may not need rain and can be injured by it.
"You have heard your servant's prayer -- the uttered
part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the
other part of it -- that part which the pastor -- and also
you in your hearts -- fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly
and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these
words: 'Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!' That is sufficient.
the *whole* of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant
words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed
for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which
follow victory--*must* follow it, cannot help but follow it.
Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part
of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!
"O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our
hearts, go forth to battle -- be Thou near them! With them
-- in spirit -- we also go forth from the sweet peace of our
beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us
to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help
us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their
patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with
the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to
lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help
us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing
grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children
to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in
rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer
and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail,
imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it --
for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight
their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy
their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white
snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the
spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who
is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore
beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.
(*After a pause.*) "Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire
it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits!"
It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because
there was no sense in what he said.
The War Prayer in the early 1900s as a response the Philippine-American
War of 1899-1902. This document is public domain and may be
reproduced at your leisure.