‘Thou openest Thine hand,’ says the old psalm, ’and satisfiest the desire of every living thing.’  There is no part of the divine dealings of which the Bible speaks more frequently and more lovingly than His supply of all creatures’ wants.  It is a grand thought, ’Who feedeth the young ravens when they cry, who maketh the grass to grow on the mountains.  The eyes of all wait upon Thee.’  There is a magnificent verse in the 104th Psalm, which regards even the roar of the lion prowling for its prey in midnight forests as a cry to God—­’The young lions seek their meat from God.’  As Luther says somewhere in his rough prose—­’Even to feed the sparrows God spends more than the revenues of the French king would buy.’  And that universal bounty applies truly to those whose lot is ‘In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat bread.’  For us it is true.  God feeds us.  ’Thou givest meat to them that fear Thee, Thou wilt ever be mindful of Thy covenant.’  In giving us our daily bread, His hand is hid under second causes, but these should not mask the truth from us.

God is the life of nature.  His will is the power whose orderly working we call nature’s laws.  Force is the sign manual of God.  There would be no harvest, no growth, unless to each seed God gave a body as it hath pleased Him.  The existence of bread is the effect of His work.  ’He hath not left Himself without witness in that He giveth rain from heaven and fruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and gladness.’ as Paul said to the rough farmer folk of Lycaonia.

The distribution of the bread is of God.

By second causes, our work and other means.

Be it so.  Here is a steam engine, in one room away at one end of your mill; here is a spindle whirring five hundred yards off.  What then?  Who thinks that that bit of belting moves the drum round which it turns, or that the cog-wheel that carries the motion originates it?  The motion here has force at the other end, the effect here has its cause in God.

The nourishment by bread is of God.

’Man doth not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.’

The reason why any natural substance has properties is by reason of present will of God; they reside not in itself, but in Him.

All this we say that we believe when we pray this prayer.

How much it conflicts with our modern habit of putting God as far away from daily life as we can!

The prayer is the consecration of our work for bread.

The indirect way by which it is answered is a great blessing, and it pledges us to labour.

Orare est laborare. Not, as it is sometimes quoted, as if toil was to do instead of prayer, but that active life may be consecrated to God, and all our efforts which terminate in gaining bread for ourselves and for those we love may become prayer, and be offered to God.

How can we pray for God to give us our daily bread, and then go to seek it by means which we dare not avow or defend in our prayers?  Bless my cheating, bless my sharp practice, bless my half-heartedness.  It is no part of my business to apply principles to details of conduct, but it is my business to say—­take this prayer for a test, and if you dare not pray it over what you do in earning your living, ask yourself whether you are not rather earning your death.