One of the most well-known quotes about the Puritans comes from controversial journalist and critic H.L. Menken, who in 1925 claimed that the Puritans had “the haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.”1 Recently, there has been a resurgence of interest in the Puritans’ understanding of joy, with essays and even whole books dedicated to the topic.2 In the most recent and robust treatment on the subject, Nathaniel Warne rightly points out that the Puritans’ fear was not that someone might be happy, but rather that someone might live and “not experience the true and rich happiness that they were created to experience by God.”3 Indeed, the Puritans may have been more concerned about the happiness of humanity than any other group in the history of the world. They understood that true happiness is not a flippant circumstantial feeling, but a deep and abiding joy in God that draws its source from the fountain of joy: God himself.

While it is easy to pick on secular historians for missing the link between Puritanism and joy, my experience — as someone hailing from the confessional Reformed wing of the Protestant house — suggests something more surprising: whole churches and traditions with Presbyterian and Reformed heritages can sometimes miss the reality that joy in God is a central tenant celebrated in their own confessional standards. The Westminster Shorter Catechism (hereafter WSC) begins with a central question that uses superlative language: “What is the chief end of man?” Answer: “The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever.”

By exploring the historical context behind the crafting of the Westminster Standards and specifically the WSC, this article will argue that the Puritans considered the pursuit of God’s glory and our joy in him to be central to the Christian life. It will also show how this joy-saturated theological tradition was inherited by and continued to spread through later figures, especially Jonathan Edwards. Finally, it will end by drawing out two practical lessons we can learn from the Puritans’ focus on joy in God.

On July 1, 1643, Parliament convened the first of 1,330 meetings that would take place over the next decade (1643–1652) at Westminster Abbey. This group, known as the Westminster Assembly, was a gathering of “Learned and Godlie divines . . . for the Settling of the Government and the Litturgie of the Church of England.” The publication of the Minutes and Papers of the Westminster Assembly — containing, among other things, a multivolume transcription of the official minutes of the Assembly — has recently provided us the clearest window revealing what went into the crafting of the Westminster Confession and the Larger and Shorter catechisms.

For example, we know that the Assembly delegated the drafting of the WSC to a committee of at least eight members — which included Chairman Herbert Palmer, who had compiled his own catechism — and that the first debate on the Shorter Catechism took place on October 21, 1647, the same day as the last debate on the Larger Catechism.4 We also know that, following the completion of a draft of the WSC on November 8, 1647, they debated whether they would “follow the standard format of expounding the Ten Commandments, the Lord’s Prayer and Apostles’ Creed, or that those texts would be appended to the shorter catechism” and that the Assembly opted for the second option.5 We even know that the WSC was finally approved on November 16, 1647, and that, for final approval, Parliament instructed them on November 26, 1647, “to append Scripture proofs to both catechisms.”6

Still, despite shedding light on countless facets of the Assembly previously unknown, there are gaps in our understanding of precisely why they made some decisions. There are whole days in the record where the scribe of the minutes simply records, “Debate of the lesser catechism,” or “Proceeded in the debate of the catechism,” or even shorter “Deb. Catchisme [sic].”7 In many cases, then, we must infer — from the historical context and the emphases within the broader theological tradition of the Puritan movement — what motivated them in their various decisions on individual catechetical questions. As we explore the divines’ historical context and broader theological tradition, we get clarity on the importance of joy in God in the WSC and Puritan theology.

Orthodoxy’s Beating Heart

The calling of the Westminster Assembly to redefine and refine orthodoxy in England followed a tumultuous decade of reform under King Charles I and Archbishop William Laud. The king and archbishop persecuted members of the Puritan movement and sought to move the Church of England in a distinctly more Catholic direction. Against this backdrop, the Puritans gathered in 1643 to clarify what they believed were central theological truths of Christian doctrine and life. Among their concerns was to emphasize that Reformed orthodoxy was not merely doctrinal or behavioral, but experiential or affectional; that is, true, vital Christianity embraces love for God and joy in God.

The Puritans had witnessed firsthand a conformist Christianity that was devoid of a vital experiential emphasis. In the 1630s, the conformist clergy in the Church of England had promoted a Christianity that was performative, emphasizing liturgy, ritual, and ceremony. This was most clearly seen in how conformist clergy redefined the central tasks of pastoral ministry. In stark contrast to the Puritans, these ministers claimed that on Sundays pastors were chiefly called by God to lead in liturgy, read Scripture, and administer the sacraments.

The Puritans responded by arguing that pastors are “physicians of souls” and therefore must move beyond a surface-level reading of Scripture and recitation of words. In short, they must pierce the hearts of their hearers with the Scriptures. What were the ministers’ tools, their proverbial scalpel and surgical instruments? God had equipped them and called them to shepherd God’s people through deep experiential preaching to the heart. Through their powerful preaching, the Spirit would take the word, apply it to men’s consciences, transform their hearers’ affections, and give them a new joy in God himself.

“Do not deprive God of his glory by refusing to exult in him while you worship. It is the reason you were created.”

The fact that question 1 of the WSC begins by linking the glory of God and our joy is no accident. Great thought and care were given not only to the content but to the order of these Standards. The order highlights that they believed joy and the pursuit of God’s glory were primary. And the fact that these two key topics were treated in the same catechetical question signals that the Puritans believed the glory of God and the joy of the believer were linked. In the minds of the Puritans, the first duty of believers is to enjoy God and to glorify God. And these two duties are not separate callings but one glorious opportunity — believers glorify God through their very enjoyment of him.

In this way, the first question reflects the Puritans’ pastoral concerns within their historical context. It also shows that joy in God was a central tenant of their entire theological system. For the Puritans, the believer’s joy was not a cherry on top of the ice-cream sundae of the Christian life, but the very cream that permeates the entire dessert. Indeed, the way believers glorify God is by showing that communion with him is both the most satisfying thing in all the universe and the very reason they were created.

Joy Before Westminster and Beyond

The emphasis on personal enjoyment of and communion with Christ goes all the way back to the founding of Puritanism itself. William Perkins, the “father of Puritanism” and author of the first Puritan preaching manual, The Art of Prophesying (prophecy being the old Puritan word for preaching), used the analogy of the preachers as bakers, carefully slicing bread and feeding those in need of spiritual nourishment. What was the end of this feeding? It was not merely transactional, but deeply personal — to discover Christ himself.8 Perkins was not alone. Thomas Watson, in his Body of Practical Divinity, says, the “end of Scripture” is to obtain “a clear discovery of Christ” and to “quicken our Affections” to him.9 Likewise, John Owen wrote that a believer reads Scripture so that he “might find all that is necessary unto his happiness.”10

This conviction explains why the Puritans often referred to communion with Christ as delight in “spiritual marriage.”11 Particularly in the sermons and writings on the Song of Solomon, they used the language of “ravishment” to describe the love of Christ for them.12 Tom Schwanda points out that their reading of the Song of Solomon led them to speak “freely of the intimacy and joys of spiritual marriage with Jesus, as the divine Bridegroom,” as they expressed their “delight and enjoyment of God.”13

This theme of joy’s centrality to the Christian life continued in figures like Matthew Henry and his The Pleasantness of a Religious Life (1714). It finds its fullest expression, however, in the writings of America’s greatest theologian, Jonathan Edwards. Toward the end of his life, Edwards wrote a book that was published seven years after he died. In Edwards’s Dissertation Concerning the End for Which God Created the World (1765), he argues that a believer’s joy is found supremely in making much of God. The very essence of “joy,” according to Edwards, is “the exulting of the heart in God’s glory.”14 Edwards argues that three seemingly independent realities — God’s seeking of his glory, his seeking of our joy, and our seeking of our joy by seeking God’s glory — are actually intrinsically connected in God’s ordering of the universe. By seeking his glory and encouraging those he created to do the same, God seeks the everlasting and ever-increasing joy of his creatures.15

Two Lessons for Today

What can Christians learn from this study of the centrality of joy in Puritanism? The first lesson is for Christians living in an increasingly post-Christian society. The Puritans’ emphasis on finding our joy in God is completely countercultural to our society’s understanding of joy. The message from the culture is that joy comes from being made much of and establishing one’s own self-made identity using the tools of the age (including, first and foremost, social media). The Puritans clear this cultural fog with the sunbeams of the gospel: true joy comes when we make much of God and enjoy our new identity in Christ. They challenge us to see that the pursuit of God’s glory is indeed enjoyable; the greatest joy one can have in life is to make much of him.

The second lesson is for Christians living and ministering in churches that have experientially (at least in part) drifted from their own theological traditions. The Puritans’ emphasis on joy in God contrasts with what some Christians (indeed, some Reformed Christians) think of as the point of worship — namely, to shrug off motivations of self-interest. I have heard many well-meaning Christians say on Sunday mornings, “We are here not for ourselves, but to give worship to God.” While there is indeed a sinful selfishness, the Puritans point us to a holy, God-designed self-interest: Christians are by God’s very design to seek their own good in glorifying God.

Let us never forget this: we walk into worship on Sunday mornings to glorify God by finding our joy in him. As songs are sung, Scripture is read, prayers are prayed, liturgy is conducted, the word is preached, and the sacraments are received, make it your aim to go vertical with God — to be satisfied by God and enjoy him. As Edwards argues, since God’s “happiness consists in enjoying and rejoicing in himself . . . so does also the creature’s happiness . . . [consist] in rejoicing in God; by which also God is magnified and exalted.”16 Do not deprive God of his glory by refusing to exult in him while you worship. It is the reason you were created. Indeed, the reason we enjoy making much of God is because God designed us this way in his image. Just as he takes great delight in making much of himself, so we follow him and glorify his name.

ABSTRACT: When the Act of Uniformity (1662) mandated that all English clergy must adhere to the Book of Common Prayer, controversy ensued among the Puritans. Some Puritans, like John Owen and John Bunyan, argued that written prayers in corporate worship violated Scripture and could quench the Spirit. Others, like Richard Baxter, resisted the Act of Uniformity, but still maintained that written prayers could aid Christians’ corporate worship and prevent disorder. Their disagreement reveals how greatly the Puritans prized biblical worship; it also calls Christians today to pray from sincere and engaged hearts, with words shaped by Scripture.

For our ongoing series of feature articles for pastors, leaders, and teachers, we asked Dr. Greg Salazar, Assistant Professor of Historical Theology at Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary, to explore the disagreement among the Puritans on the use of written prayers in corporate worship.

The last seventy years have witnessed a resurgence in interest in the Puritans. Two events in particular have catapulted the Puritans from the dusty pages of history into the center of mainstream Calvinism. The first was the establishing Banner of Truth Trust in 1957 in order to republish the classics of Puritan literature. Then, recent decades have witnessed the emergence of the New Calvinist movement, which finds its historical and theological roots within the Puritan movement. The result is that there are many (myself included) who are zealous to put down the often-repeated stereotype that the Puritans were those who had “the haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.”1

Some observers of Christianity also have noted how some evangelicals (including those who identify as Reformed) have drifted toward a more liturgical approach to worship.2 In recent years, Christians have desired to understand the Puritans’ view of the use of written prayers in both corporate and private worship. Although many Puritans argued against the Book of Common Prayer’s prescription to use written prayers in corporate worship, some Puritans believed that such a practice was consistent with biblical worship. Moreover, most Puritans — even those who were opposed to the use of written prayers in public worship — believed that it was perfectly legitimate to use written prayers in one’s own private or even family worship.

This article will examine the most important arguments put forward by some of the most influential Puritans — particularly John Owen, John Bunyan, Richard Baxter, and Matthew Henry. It will survey their arguments for and against the use of written prayers in both public and private worship. It will end by exploring four lessons we can learn from studying the Puritans’ perspectives on these important issues.

Persecuted Puritans

In order to grasp why many Puritan divines opposed the use of any set prayers in public worship, it is important to remember the historical context in which the Puritans lived and ministered.3 The Puritan movement began in the early 1560s, when the Protestant Queen Elizabeth I ascended to the throne, following the death of her Catholic sister, Queen Mary I. As a result of this transition, English Puritans were able to return home from Continental Europe (particularly John Calvin’s Geneva), where they had been living in exile to avoid Catholic persecution.

They brought with them newly forged convictions about the nature of biblical — and, in their mind, truly reformed — doctrine, worship, and church polity. They believed the Church of England — with its commitment doctrinally to the Thirty-nine Articles, liturgical set forms of prayer (outlined in the Book of Common Prayer), and episcopal polity — was a “half-reformed” church in need of further reformation along the lines of Calvin’s Geneva. Thus, for the next century, they sought to reform the Church of England. Some pursued these ideals as somewhat-loyal members of the Church of England, while others remained outside the established church and attempted (and often failed) to set up structures alongside it.

While the first eighty years of the Puritan movement saw little success, the 1640s and 1650s were the golden age — insofar as the Puritans’ aspiration of forming a national church on Puritan principles was now within their grasp. However, when Puritanism’s political leader, Oliver Cromwell, died in 1658 and his son Richard took his place as Lord Protector of England, Oliver’s son lacked the charismatic leadership and giftedness of his father. Within two years, Puritans concluded that their vision of a national church would be better executed in the stable soil of a restored monarchy rather than a failing republic. Consequently, the Puritans invited Charles II — son of Charles I, whom they executed in 1649 — out of exile to reinstate the monarchy.

The initial negotiations between parliament and Charles II for a “broadly inclusive” national church that would grant liberty to Puritan consciences around polity and worship looked promising. However, following the failure to reach a consensus on the particular scope and structures of the newly forming church and the election of a new slate of young “Cavalier” Anglicans to parliament in 1661, the political and ecclesiastical tide turned wholly in favor of the Anglicans and against the now-marginalized Puritans.

Now, not only were the Puritans’ hopes for a broadly inclusive national church dashed, but the likelihood of persecution was imminent as the established church handed down a mandate known as the Act of Uniformity (1662). The Act of Uniformity required all ordained English clergy to repudiate their former presbyterian ordination and political allegiances and to submit themselves to reordination by a bishop and to adherence to the liturgical ideals outlined in the Book of Common Prayer, which had had just been revised in a more Anglican direction. Those ministers who failed to conform in writing would lose both their ministerial posts and the livings tied to those posts.4 In the end, over two thousand clergymen in England and Wales failed to conform and were ejected from their pulpits and livings. It was the most significant and systematic persecution of Puritans in their over one-hundred-year history.5

Against Written Prayers in Corporate Worship

Given their conviction that the Church of England was a “half-reformed” church and their experience of persecution by the church they sought to reform, it is not surprising that many Puritan divines opposed the use of any written prayers in public worship. Consider some of the arguments Puritans like John Owen and John Bunyan raised against the practice.

Written prayers violate the regulative principle.

The clearest reason Puritans opposed such prayers is because they believed their use violated the regulative principle for worship — namely, that nothing should be done in corporate worship unless it is prescribed by God’s word.

In one of the most formidable defenses of the regulative principle and his most extended critique on the Church of England, John Owen (1616–1683) argued that his commitment to the regulative principle of worship, and particularly the second commandment, necessitated his opposition to the use of written prayers in public worship.6 Owen argued that they were “a human invention” and an idolatrous violation of the second commandment.7 He even contended that though the apostles were inspired by the Holy Spirit to write Scripture, they were never inspired to write “prescribe[d] forms of prayer, either for the whole church or single persons.”8 Thus, he concludes, if the very apostles were never tasked with this duty, “there is no such especial promise given unto any, this work of composing prayer.”9 Owen’s explanation for why written prayers existed in corporate worship was simple: throughout human history since the fall, man has devised other ways to “worship” God than those prescribed by the Lord himself as “revealed in the Word of God.”10

“The Puritans possessed a vital zeal to worship God according to the prescriptions of Scripture.”

John Bunyan (1628–1688) likewise defended the regulative principle of worship, specifically opposing written prayers because he “did not find” them “commanded in the word of God.”11 Simply put, these Puritans forbade the use of written prayers in corporate worship because the practice was not prescribed in Scripture.

Written prayers are a Catholic and even Old Testament practice.

Second, Puritans believed the use of written prayers in corporate worship was a Catholic and Old Testament practice. For example, both Owen and Bunyan argued that the Church of England’s use of written prayers rendered it guilty of the Catholic Church’s error of worshiping according to human invention.12 Owen went even further to argue that it reduced worship “to the very state and condition wherein they were in Judaism” and therefore was antithetical to Christ’s saving work. For Christ “delivered his disciples from the yoke of Mosaical institutions,” and the very destruction of the temple in Jerusalem by the Romans in AD 70 was a providential indication that a transition had taken place in the worship of God. In short, the Old Testament pattern was literally “buried in the ruins of the city and temple,” making it impossible to worship God in that way.13

Prayer is chiefly inward.

Third, Puritans argued that the Book of Common Prayer could not facilitate what was chiefly an inward, spiritual, sincere engagement of the affections expressed in external words. Following the Act of Uniformity, John Bunyan was imprisoned for his nonconformity and was denied the opportunity to be released from prison because he would not promise to cease preaching according to Puritan principles. Bunyan’s opposition to the use of written prayers in corporate worship was a central point of his trial discussion with authorities, especially Sir John Keeling, which took place seven weeks after his initial imprisonment.

In Bunyan’s Discourse Touching Prayer (1662), published during his imprisonment, he argued that the use of written prayers opposed the very essence of true prayer that was to be “with the spirit and with understanding” (see 1 Corinthians 14:15).14 Citing texts like Jeremiah 29:12–13 and echoing John Calvin and Matthew Henry, Bunyan said, “Prayer is a sincere, sensible, affectionate pouring out of the heart or soul to God . . . for such things as God hath promised, or, according to the Word.”15 When he was asked by Keeling at his imprisonment trial if one could “pray with the spirit, and with understanding” using “the Common Prayer-book,” Bunyan replied that he was convinced “that it is impossible that all the Prayer-Books that men have made in the world should lift up or prepare the heart,” for “it is not the mouth that is the main thing to be looked at in prayer, but whether the heart be so full of affection and earnestness in Prayer with God.” When authorities defended the use of written prayers by arguing that “prayers made by men” “are good to teach, and help men to pray,” Bunyan replied that while “one man may tell another how he should pray,” neither he nor the prayer book could help that man “make his condition known to God” or “stirreth up in our hearts desires to come to God,” since that was the Spirit’s work to assist the believer in prayer (Romans 8:26).16

Indeed, Puritans believed that there was nothing distinctly spiritual about the utterance of specific familiar forms, for true spirituality involved engaging the affections in prayer, for only “then the whole man is engaged.”17 Since an emphasis on the importance of heart religion was a major theme laced throughout all of Puritan theology, it is not surprising that it would be central to their understanding of prayer.

Written prayers quench the Spirit.

Fourth, Bunyan and Owen argued that written prayers not only failed to facilitate true prayer, but quenched the Holy Spirit.18 Owen called written prayers “a stinted form of prayers,” whose “constant and unvaried use . . . may become a great occasion of quenching the Spirit.”19 Likewise, the Welsh Independent preacher Walter Cradock (c. 1606–1659) said that those who require using written prayers in public worship “restrain the Spirit of God in the Saints” as well as in the minister himself. For although a minister would come to the Lord in public prayer burdened to pour “out his soul to the Lord” for his congregation, he was “tied to an old Service Book” requiring him to “read” it until they “grieved the Spirit of God, and dried up” their “spirit[s] as a chip.”20

Ministers lead using Spirit-empowered public prayers.

Finally, Puritans argued that ministers were empowered to lead God’s people in corporate worship by the Spirit, rather than by the written words of man. Owen argued that the use of written prayers actually “render[ed] useless” Christ’s true means for leading in public prayer — namely, his “sending the holy Spirit . . . to enable” the minister to lead the congregation in “Divine Worship.”21 In Owen’s mind, there were two kinds of ministers: those who rightly administered the “holy things in his assemblies” by aid of the Holy Spirit, and those who ministered “by the prescription of a form of words” of men.22 Similarly, Bunyan said that even if ministers “had a thousand Common-Prayer-Books” but lacked the “Spirit,” they would “know not what [they] should pray for as [they] ought,” but would be “like the Sons of Aaron, offering with strange fire” (Levitcus 10:1–2).23 Owen and Bunyan likewise argued that since the Spirit must equip ministers with the ability to pray extemporaneously in public prayer, by extension those who relied on the prayer-book liturgy for public prayer lacked the necessary spiritual gifting from God for ministry.24 Puritans sought to even provide less-competent ministers with tools — like Nathaniel Vincent’s “Directions how to attain unto the gift of prayer and readiness of expression in that duty” — to help them grow in extemporaneous prayer.25

For Written Prayers in Corporate Worship

However, while the above arguments were pervasive throughout the Puritan movement, there were other Puritans — most notably, Richard Baxter (1615–1691) — who were open to using written prayers in corporate worship. While Baxter extolled extemporaneous prayer, understood these arguments against written prayers, and had significant concerns about (and desired to reform) the Book of Common Prayer, he nevertheless believed there were some advantages to using written prayers and, like John Calvin, composed set prayers for use in public worship.26 He even went so far as to compose a Puritan alternative to the Book of Common Prayer, complete with liturgical forms and written prayers drawn principally from Scripture and especially the Lord’s Prayer and the Ten Commandments.27 He drafted it in only two weeks and claimed that he only used the Bible, his biblical concordance, and the Westminster “Assemblies Directory.”28 He hoped that his Reformed Liturgy (as it would be called) might be a substitite prayer book that his fellow moderate Presbyterians and Anglican opponents could both support.29 What follows are some of Baxter’s arguments in favor of the use of written prayers in corporate worship.

Written prayers can prevent disorder and unnecessary repetition.

First, Baxter argued that the use of written prayers in worship could prevent disorder and unnecessary repetition in public prayer. He argued that the public “prayers of many a weak Christian” were so plagued by “disorder and repetitions and unfit expressions” that he preferred that they use written prayers.30 He claimed that other Puritans held the same position, saying that the Westminster Assembly divine Simeon Ashe (1595–1662) “hath often told us, that this was the Mind of the old Nonconformists, and that he hath often heard some weak Ministers so disorderly in Prayer, especially in Baptism and the Lord’s Supper, that he could have wish’d that they would rather use the Common-Prayer.”31

Written prayers can be a subordinate help to the Holy Spirit’s leading.

Second, Baxter argued that the use of written prayers could function as a “help” that was “subordinate to the Spirit’s help.”32 He said that written prayers could help Christians to pray in the same way as “spectacles” help others to see or even “sermon notes” help “weak memories” — even sharing candidly that set “forms are oft a help to me.”33 While he agreed with those who contended that true prayer is from the heart, he argued against those who opposed written prayers on this ground, saying that “it is a great error to think, that the gifts and graces of the holy spirit may not be exercised, if we use the same words, or if they be prescribed.”34

The Lord’s Prayer is a written prayer.

Third, the Puritans were perhaps most open to the use of the Lord’s Prayer in public worship since it was prescribed by Jesus himself as a pattern for how to pray. The Westminster Assembly differed over the issue of whether to include the Lord’s Prayer in the Directory of Public Worship. Some divines were happy to include it, while others were reticent to compel churches to use the Lord’s Prayer in worship. While the former divines believed it would serve as a model to train congregants how to pray, the later group believed, as Bunyan and Owen had argued, that not even the mere words of the Lord’s Prayer could incite true prayer from the heart, as this is the Spirit’s work.35 In the end, the Directory of Public Worship did not require ministers to use the Lord’s Prayer in worship, but rather “recommend[ed]” it, as the Westminster divine William Gouge stated, as “a pattern of prayer” and “a most comprehensive prayer . . . to be used in the prayers of the Church.’”36

Written prayers have historical precedent.

Finally, Puritans, particularly Richard Baxter and John Preston (1587–1628), argued that there was sufficient historical precedent throughout the history of the church of trusted Reformed divines using written prayers in corporate worship. For example, John Preston wrote, “There is no doubt that a set form [of prayer] may be used” in public worship, as Luther, Calvin, the early church, and “the Church at all times” had done.37 The diversity of views throughout the history of the church led Baxter to the conclusion that a minister’s conviction concerning written prayer was a secondary matter upon which he should be given liberty of conscience “at his discretion,” since written prayers are “neither in their nature, or by vertue of any promise of God” pertaining “to mens salvation.”38 Understanding this is key to understanding Baxter’s position. For although Baxter himself was affected by the Act of Uniformity, and he defended ministers ejected in 1662, before and after the great ejection he labored to cultivate unity through negotiating a mediating position that might be agreeable to Puritans and Anglicans alike.

Puritan Divines Closer Than Assumed

These disagreements between Puritans over the use of written prayers in public worship were often hidden from public view. One notable exception was a clash between Owen and Baxter that was a result of Baxter receiving a copy of Owen’s Twelve Arguments against any Conformity to Worship not of Divine Institution and Baxter’s responding with his own work.39

Geoffrey Nuttall has persuasively argued that, despite their expressed differences, “Baxter and Owen in fact were . . . close spiritually” on the issue.40 For example, despite all of his opposition to the use of written prayers in corporate worship, at one point Owen appears to soften, expressing that while he does not desire to express “any dissent about” or “to judge or condemn” either the practice of or those who used written prayers, he does argue that it is not necessary to use them.41 This led Nuttall to conclude that perhaps part of the reason Owen and Baxter differed over written prayer was because Owen never got over the fact that it was the Anglicans’ zeal for set prayers that lead to their “silencing, destroying, [and] banishing” his fellow Puritan brothers.42

Using Private Prayer Books

While Puritans were divided about the use of written prayers in public worship, they were, on the whole, quite sympathetic to using private prayer books in personal and family worship. Their reason was singular and simple: they believed these prayer books could be especially helpful in aiding individuals and families in learning how to pray according to Scripture. They said that just as inflatable floaties (what they called “bladders”) could be helpful in aiding a new swimmer to swim, so these private prayer books could aid Christians in learning how to pray in both private and family prayers.43 While dozens of Puritans published these prayer books, many of the most well-known ones — such as Henry Scudder’s The Christian’s Daily Walk, John Preston’s The Saint’s Daily Exercise, Nathaniel Vincent’s The Spirit of Prayer, and Lewis Bayly’s The Practice of Piety — were reprinted continually throughout the seventeenth century in England.

“Puritans were, on the whole, quite sympathetic to using private prayer books in personal and family worship.”

Probably the most well-known of these private prayer devotionals was A Method for Prayer (1710) by the Presbyterian minister Matthew Henry (1662–1714). One gets a sense of the importance Henry placed on prayer by the fact that he actually paused finishing his now-famous commentary on the entire Bible to write it. Henry intentionally composed his work using only scriptural language to demonstrate “the sufficiency of the Scripture to furnish us for us for every good work” and to teach Christians how to plead the promises of God. Nevertheless, he conceded that it was “often necessary to use other expressions in prayer besides those that are purely Scriptural.”44

Henry’s book is organized according to a rather familiar pattern — adoration, confession, petitions and supplications for ourselves, thanksgiving, intercession for others, and a conclusion — that followed the basic outline of the “public prayer before the sermon” in the Westminster Directory for Public Worship.45 His prayer book also contains written prayers for numerous occasions, including daily morning and evening prayers, prayers of parents for their children, shortened prayers children could use to learn to pray, a paraphrase of the Lord’s Prayer for children and youth, and specific prayers for special blessings and challenges.46 There were also prayers one could pray privately (or presumably publicly) in a corporate worship service before the Lord’s Supper and during marriage or funeral services.

Learning from the Puritans

We can learn at least four lessons from studying the Puritans’ perspectives on written prayers. First, the Puritans possessed a vital zeal to worship God according to the prescriptions of Scripture rather than one’s own preferences. In a day in which many churches worship God according to the latest worldly or churchly trends in order to boost church attendance, appeal to unbelievers, or be relevant to the culture, the Puritans understood that God is honored by and will bless only scriptural worship.

“The chief instrument that must be engaged throughout the whole of corporate worship is the heart.”

Second, the Puritans urge us to pursue God with all our heart in corporate worship. Having worshiped in a variety of Reformed church settings over the years, I have noticed that sometimes those most zealous to preserve the regulative principle of worship appear most lacking in the Puritans’ central conviction — namely, that the chief instrument that must be engaged throughout the whole of corporate worship (praying, singing, hearing the sermon) is the heart. They understood that those who simply go through the motions of worship are no different from the Pharisees, of whom Jesus said, “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me” (Matthew 15:8).

Third, this study of the Puritans teaches us that it is possible for faithful Reformed people to differ over secondary matters — and that sometimes those variances are the result of either ignorance of the existence of similar practices within their own Reformed tradition or differing personal experiences. For example, in addition to Nuttall’s insight above about Owen’s and Baxter’s differing personal experiences of persecution, it is possible that some Puritans were not aware that influential Reformed divines like John Calvin composed written prayers for corporate worship.

Finally, the Puritans encourage us to use Scripture to shape our prayers and engage our hearts in prayer. Whether this insight is familiar or new to you, I would encourage you to use either the Psalms, Matthew Henry’s Method of Prayer, or the Valley of Vision collection of Puritan prayers as means to cultivate praying the Scriptures in your daily devotional times with God.47 One section of Matthew Henry’s Method for Prayer that I find particularly insightful is his exhortation to begin one’s Scripture reading and prayer time by meditation on Scripture so as to engage one’s affections toward vital communion with God.48 This practice encourages the believer to fix his “attention” wholly upon “the Lord” and to “set [himself] in his special presence.” Therein, the believer can “attend upon the Lord without Distraction” and without his heart being “far from him when” he draws dear God in prayer.49 Ultimately, the chief lesson the Puritans teach us is to seek the Lord in prayer with the full assurance that as we draw near to him, he will draw near to us (James 4:8).