The BoT edition of "Prayer" is actually two tracts in one. Some have suggested this makes the title misleading as the former, "Praying in the Spirit", is much more in line with the theme of prayer than the latter, "The Throne of Grace." However, prayer is so essential to "Throne of Grace"--what else is meant by "approaching boldly"?--that the two are important contributions to the theme and Bunyan's theology of prayer. I think they work together swimmingly. Of greater interest to me is how Bunyan's theology changes over time (1662 for the former, posthumously in 1692 for the latter). But of greatest interest is the question of if what he says is true of God. I don't read Puritan Paperbacks for historical curiosities. I read them for the truth.
"Praying in the Spirit" is much more occasional. Bunyan here uses his opposition to the Act of Uniformity and its requirement to use the Book of Common Prayer to argue that the BCP violates the nature of prayer. All recited and proscribed prayers, he argues, are compulsory and conjured by men. Therefore, they are not honoring to God at best and blasphemous at worst. "[T]o say God is your Father, in a way of prayer or conference, without any experiment [experience] of grace on your souls, it is to say you are Jews and are not, and so do lie" (26). He helpfully defines prayer as "the sincere, sensible, affectionate pouring out of the heart or soul to God, through Christ, in the strength and assistance of the Holy Spirit, for such things as God has promised, or according to his word, for the good of the church, with submission in faith to the will of God" (5). From there, Bunyan builds upon each clause in his definition. It is the only by the Spirit's prompting that anyone may pray, and from there the Christian must grow in understanding. This growth in understanding is growing in the Spirit. Ultimately, prayer becomes communion with God. As the soul groans in need or affliction, the Spirit directs it to God. Only the Christian may pray in the Spirit (for only he is indwelt by the Spirit), and carried along he enters into communion with God by pouring out his need, learning of his own sin and God's righteousness and provision, and there coming to know God instead of merely knowing about God.
I'm torn on Bunyan's first essay. For years, I have eschewed saccharine and squishy prayers common in my low-church circles. I really like the BCP, at least the Episcopal 1929 version and the ACNA 2019, and its liturgy is often pulled straight from Biblical psalms. The Psalter itself is often touted and treated as a means of teaching one how to pray, even in low church circles. Yet the point Bunyan makes is a mighty one. The un-redeemed have no place calling God Father. The ritualized prayers in a liturgy may give me a structure to use when I am unmotivated or uninspired. But it isn't authentic; it becomes trying to will myself into a mindset or heart posture I want rather than the one I have in that moment. This point has challenged me to return to something a little more honest. It's not that I don't pray when I'm not in the mood; now I have begun to plunge into *why* I'm not in the mood, or even admitting right up front that I'm not in the worshipful posture in which I ought to be. The shift is subtle but profound. And if Bunyan is right and prayer is bringing my affections to God through Christ, then proscribed liturgy won't help because my affections are clouded beneath ritual. Put plainly: I cannot will myself into the heart posture I ought to have. Only the Holy Spirit can bring me there.
"The Throne of Grace" is based on Hebrews 6:14, arguing that God is seated upon a Throne of Grace (among several other thrones), that Christians can distinguish between these thrones, and that the Christian may approach boldly the Throne of Grace to surely find mercy and grace from God. God reigns over heaven, earth, and judgment (each discrete thrones) but only on the Throne of Grace may the Christian approach boldly because there he is cleansed by the High Priest Jesus Christ. There Jesus performs multiple roles: he is the high priest who cleanses us from sin and covers us with this blood; he is the sacrifice whose blood is shed for our sin and whose blood is applied to us each time we approach; he is the altar upon which the sacrifice is offered (for as the Temple altar was considered greater than any sacrifice upon it, yet nothing can be holier than Christ himself). Thus, each time we approach God in prayer as prompted by the Holy Spirit, Jesus performs a complex intercessory role beyond human comprehension to render our prayers acceptable to God. Nonetheless, in line with "Praying in the Spirit", no unbelieving person may draw near to the Throne of Grace without cleansing, and no one ought to approach God brazenly on any of his other seats (earth, heaven, judgment) without imperiling his life and soul.
"The Throne of Grace" is a much more sophisticated essay than "Praying in the Spirit", doubtless a reflection of thirty more years of preaching, counseling, and even imprisonment for nonconformist preaching. Bunyan notes toward the end the ten seasons of life in which one must draw near to the Throne of Grace, all toward the end of sanctification. It turns out that we find ourselves in one of these ten seasons at any given point in our lives! Moreover, Bunyan's definition of mercy and grace stirred me. "Mercy is that by which we are pardoned, even all the falls, faults, failings, and weaknesses that attend us" (187), but grace is that "which God has appointed for us, to dwell in us; and that by and through the continual supply of which we are to be enabled to do and suffer, and to manage ourselves in doing and suffering according to the will of God" (190). As opposed to high-church definitions of grace as an external force or substance that may be applied to physical objects through blessing or ritual by clerics, Bunyan sees grace as an internal emotional or psychological state that "by the increase and continual supply of which we are inwardly strengthened to abound in every good work" (190-191).
I have often heard charismatic definitions of being "filled with the Spirit" that sound like a heightened emotional or even supernatural state that enable one to perform supernatural acts or healings. I have heard high-church definitions of grace that treat it as an ethereal substance that increases holiness, cleanses us from sin in a sacramental or purgatorial economy, or elevates natural things to holy realities. I don't mean to disparage these definitions, but I must be frank: I am most encouraged by a spiritual view that sees being filled with grace as being enabled to persist against my wicked and/or dejected desires and encourages me to continue living virtuously. Grace raises my head, grace dries my tears, grace washes my face. It is a heightened knowledge of who I am in Christ, who Christ is, and what I am to do in joyful obedience to him. It drives me to Christ in my grief. It draws me running like a heartbroken child when my sin hurts me again. It brings me the living water that will never run dry when all my earthly efforts have run dry in my sinful blindness or in just plain failure. And whence come grace and mercy? The Throne of Grace.
Theological, pastoral, comforting; Bunyan is first-rate. One of the finest Baptist theologians to ever live, this kind man helped me from beyond the grave in a season where I desperately needed it.