“A Model, Not a Formula”: Samuel Miller and the Lord’s Prayer

In his 1849 book Thoughts on Public Prayer, Samuel Miller made a statement that might raise an eyebrow for modern Presbyterians. Reflecting on the Lord’s Prayer, he wrote:

“As this prayer was given before the New Testament Church was set up, so it is strictly adapted to the old, rather than the new economy. The kingdom of Christ, which had long been an object of intense desire to the pious, had not yet been set up. And, therefore, the first petition in this prayer is—Thy kingdom come! It is, therefore, strictly speaking, not a prayer entirely appropriate to the New Testament Church.”¹

At first glance, that sounds almost shocking. Surely, of all prayers, the Lord’s Prayer belongs to every age of the Church! But Miller wasn’t denying its beauty or truth. He was making a different point—one worth revisiting in our own day.


Miller’s Concern: Free Prayer over Formalism

Samuel Miller, one of the founding professors of Princeton Seminary, lived at a time when Presbyterians were defining themselves against Anglican and Episcopal worship practices. Many in the Presbyterian Church of the early 19th century feared that the use of fixed liturgies or written prayers would smother the spiritual vitality of the Church and quench the liberty of the Spirit in worship.

For Miller, the Lord’s Prayer was given as a pattern, not a prescription. It was a divinely inspired guide to the kinds of petitions that should fill every believer’s prayer—adoration, submission, dependence, repentance, and praise. But he believed it was never meant to be repeated mechanically as a “strict and permanent form.”²

In his view, to make the Lord’s Prayer a set piece of public worship was to miss its point. Christ, Miller argued, gave it to teach how to pray, not what words to say. He saw the danger of turning what was meant to awaken the heart into a formula that could dull it. In that sense, his comments about the “Old” and “New” economies were less about covenant theology and more about spiritual posture.


The Broader Reformed Tradition

Here, however, Miller stands somewhat apart from the main current of Reformed thought.

John Calvin, for instance, not only called the Lord’s Prayer “the form of prayer which he himself prescribed for us,”³ but also included it weekly in Geneva’s liturgy.⁴ Calvin saw in the prayer a timeless summary of the believer’s desires before God—at once simple enough for a child and profound enough to guide the mature.

The Westminster Divines, in their Directory for the Public Worship of God (1645), called it “a most comprehensive prayer” and “recommended it to be used in the prayers of the Church.”⁵ They wrote:

“And because the prayer which Christ taught his disciples is not only a pattern of prayer, but itself a most comprehensive prayer, we recommend it also to be used in the prayers of the Church.”⁶

So while Presbyterians have historically avoided requiring its use, they have certainly commended it. The Reformed tradition has long seen no contradiction between free prayer and the faithful use of forms. The danger lies not in structure, but in formalism—the lifeless repetition of words that never reach the heart.


An American Emphasis

Miller’s wariness reflects the spirit of his time: a young, revival-shaped American Presbyterianism, deeply suspicious of anything that might feel “Popish” or imposed. His emphasis on extemporaneous prayer was meant to protect what he saw as the heart of Presbyterian piety—prayer led by the Spirit, born out of Scripture, and shaped by conviction rather than conformity.

There is something admirable in that concern. The church of every age needs to be warned against heartless ritual. Yet in pressing his point, Miller drew a sharper line between the Lord’s Prayer and the New Testament Church than either Calvin or the Westminster Assembly would have drawn. His argument against prescribed liturgies led him to read the Lord’s Prayer through a polemical lens—something to be explained away rather than received and rejoiced in.


A Better Balance

A more balanced Reformed approach sees the Lord’s Prayer as both model and form—a perfect outline for all our prayers, and a fitting prayer in itself. When prayed thoughtfully and faithfully, it teaches us to seek God’s glory, submit to His will, depend on His provision, and rest in His forgiveness.

When we pray “Thy kingdom come,” we are not asking for something that has not yet begun, but for the ongoing advance and final consummation of Christ’s reign—the destruction of sin and Satan’s power, the spread of the gospel, the renewal of the world. This is precisely how the Westminster Larger Catechism (Q. 191) interprets it:

“In the second petition (which is, Thy kingdom come) acknowledging ourselves and all mankind to be by nature under the dominion of sin and Satan, we pray that the kingdom of sin and Satan may be destroyed, the gospel propagated throughout the world, the Jews called, the fullness of the Gentiles brought in; that the Church may be furnished with all gospel officers and ordinances, purged from corruption, countenanced and maintained by the civil magistrate; that the ordinances of Christ may be purely dispensed, and made effectual to the converting of those that are yet in their sins, and the confirming, comforting, and building up of those that are already converted; that Christ would rule in our hearts here, and hasten the coming of his kingdom of glory.”⁷

That’s not the language of an outdated prayer—it’s the living voice of a New Testament people who know the King and long for His coming.


Holding Form and Freedom Together

Perhaps the best way to read Miller today is sympathetically but not slavishly. He reminds us that prayer must never become empty habit—that words, even the best of words, can be spoken without faith. But the Reformed tradition as a whole reminds us that form and freedom need not be enemies.

When the Lord’s Prayer is recited in corporate worship, or whispered by a believer at the close of the day, it does not quench the Spirit—it gives voice to the very things the Spirit teaches us to long for. The problem is never with the words, but with the heart that speaks them.


Conclusion

Samuel Miller reminds us that true prayer must come from the heart. The Reformed tradition reminds us that even the most familiar words can be filled with life when prayed in the Spirit.

Perhaps the best response is not to choose between Miller and Calvin, but to hold both together—to pray freely, sincerely, and biblically… and to find that Christ’s own words still lead us best when we say them as our own.

“Lord, teach us to pray.”

And He still does.


Footnotes

  1. Samuel Miller, Thoughts on Public Prayer (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication, 1849), 122–123.
  2. Ibid., 124–125.
  3. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, trans. Henry Beveridge (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2008), 3.20.34.
  4. John Calvin, The Form of Prayers and Manner of Ministering the Sacraments according to the Use of the Ancient Church (Geneva, 1542).
  5. The Directory for the Public Worship of God (1645), Preface and “Of Publick Prayer before the Sermon.”
  6. Ibid.
  7. The Westminster Larger Catechism (1648), Q.191.

A Knowledge that Puffs Up

“Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us,  to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.”
(Eph 3:20–21)

Recently I’ve been doing some “brushing up” on my studies of Reformed Theology.  I came to the realization that it had been 14 years since Seminary;14 years since I had seriously sat down and written out my understanding of key theological doctrines, with Biblical and Confessional references.  Over that time in ministry, I have picked up various habits and views along the way, some Biblical, some simply pragmatic.

And so I started reading and writing.  I wanted to keep my studies limited to a particular branch of Reformed Theology, and so I committed to just reading the Westminster Confession of Faith and the Larger and Shorter Catechisms.  I’ve been exploring doctrines such as the Authority of the Word of God, Covenantal Theology, Election and Free Will, Justification and Saving Faith, the Sacraments, and the End Times (millennialism).  I’ve been pouring over several resources that, I’ll have to admit, have sat on my shelf gathering dust this past decade and a half: Charles Hodges’ Systematic Theology, G.I. Williamson’s Westminster Confession of Faith Study Guide, and some even found some great online resources at www.reformation21.org.

Through this course of study, I realized some pretty telling things.  First, going to a “prestigious” seminary doesn’t ensure a “prestigious” education.  I will readily admit that the quality of and educational experience is just as much the responsibility of the student, and I am thankful for the time I spent at Princeton Theological Seminary. It was a great experience that taught me to think theologically.  My only frustration is this: Has Princeton forgotten its past, or is it trying to deny it?  Just looking at the reading lists for my theology courses (yes, I still have them): great theologians from Princeton such as Hodge and Alexander are never once assigned.  The only reading from Jonathon Edwards, yes The Jonathon Edwards, was a chapter on “Natural Theology.”  The Puritans were completely ignored, Owens, Baxter, Flavel, Sibbes.  I am grateful for my experience there, but also grateful that I have had reading groups over the years that have helped point me in the right direction for my growth in Reformed Theology.

Ok – sorry – I hadn’t intended this to become a rant – on to other things.

The other thing I realized is that, for me anyway, the study of theology oftentimes awakens in me an idolatrous desire for approval.  Let me unpack that.  As a Pastor, I am called to defend the faith and preach the gospel.  I must be led by and lead others to the truth of God as revealed in Scripture. To teach something other than God’s revealed truth is to be “the blind leading the blind,” or worse, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and I know I will be held accountable for every word.

What I realized, in the midst of all my studies and writing, I was writing to please men, to please myself, rather than to bring glory to God. I find that there is in me a craving to be seen as “orthodox.” I long for the approval of others, to be sought out, for it to be said of me, He was a good teacher who really knew his stuff.” In these moments I am seeking a knowledge that puffs up (1 Cor 8:1).

This is not what the study of theology ought to do.  I shared a couple of months ago that all theology must be doxological – that is, it should lead to the praise and glory of God – or else it is of no use whatsoever. All knowledge of God, right knowledge of Him, will lead us to praise.  When we study God’s work of Creation we are led to praise Him for His power, wisdom, providence, and sovereign reign over all things seen and unseen.  When we study the Covenants, we are led to praise God that He would make a way for us to know Him. When we study God’s eternal decrees of salvation in Jesus Christ and our security in Him, we are led to give all praise and glory to God all that He has done for us.  When we study the Sacraments, we come to praise God for His promises signified and sealed and for His Spirit that makes those promises real in our lives.

From an earlier post –

All theology should produce a humble and gracious response of love.  If you study this Golden Chain, or the 5 Points of Calvinism, or any other theology for that matter, and come away with an air of superiority and self-righteousness, you have completely missed the point.  If your theology leads you to sit in judgment of others who are lost in sin rather than compelling you to demonstrate for all to see the very grace, mercy, and love of God that delivered you from sin and death, then your theology is of no use to you, to the world, and does not bring God glory. The theology of the church does not exist to puff up the pride of man, but to exalt and glorify God.

If ever your studies about God lead you to think how great you are, or diminish the glory of God, you’ve got it wrong and need to start over at the beginning.

So let me give you this encouragement.  Keep studying.  You may not be moved to pour into the depths of the Reformed Faith, but we are all called to be students of the word, to continue to know and love God more. Keep reading.  Keep learning.  Keep growing.  But do not study, read, learn and grow just so you can saw to everyone else, “Look how much I know!”  Let your studies, your reading, your learning, your growth lead you to a fuller and richer love of God and a greater understanding of His glory and a desire to worship and praise Him in all you do.

Sola Deo Gloria!