A Short Teaching on the Power of Intercessory Prayer

Shalom, shalom.

Brothers and sisters, let me give a short teaching on the importance of praying — not only for our church, but especially for those who are far from God and whose lives are currently marked by greed and personal aggrandisement.

It is our duty to pray. No one else will do this for us in the same way the people of God can. We are called to stand in the gap.

1 Corinthians 15:58 says: “Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.”

When we rise to pray — even at midnight — we are proving that we are giving ourselves fully to the work of God. Prayer is not optional for the body of Christ; it is part of our calling.

1 Corinthians 12:27 reminds us: “Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it.”

As members of His body we carry a mandate to intercede. We intercede for the church, for our leaders, and also for those outside the walls whose lives are being shaped by greed and the desire for personal aggrandisement. We want them to stop. But more than that, we want them to turn to God and begin to live the kind of life God designed for them — a life of purpose, freedom, and the genuine highs that only come from walking in righteousness.

Scripture is clear about God’s heart for the lost and the wayward:

• “I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn from their ways and live” (Ezekiel 18:23).
• “The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise… He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9).
• Jesus told the story of the prodigal son (Luke 15) to show that the Father runs toward the one who turns back.
• “If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

We do not pray only that the destructive patterns stop. We pray that hearts are changed, that the Holy Spirit convicts, that these young men encounter the living God and discover the joy, peace, and lasting satisfaction that only a life surrendered to Christ can give.

As we pray tonight, we will ask God specifically:

• To continue giving us strength and faithfulness to keep interceding and worshipping Him.
• To revive any among us who are backsliding or discouraged, and draw them back into fellowship.
• To draw new people into the church so that we become a mighty army for the Kingdom.
• And, with special urgency, to reach the older boys caught in greed and personal aggrandisement: – Soften their hearts. – Break the power of self-seeking and destructive ambition in their lives. – Bring them to genuine repentance. – Turn them toward Jesus so they may experience the freedom and joy of a virtuous life lived for God.

If you are short of words, simply declare these things in faith:

Lord, remove every barrier that keeps people from coming to worship You, in Jesus’ name.

Father, strengthen our leaders with Your mighty power, according to Isaiah 40:29.

We declare that our leaders will not grow weary or give up, according to Galatians 6:9.

Lord, protect our leaders from every attack of the enemy. Cover them with the blood of Jesus. May those who seek to destroy them be put to shame, according to Isaiah 54:17.

And Father, we lift up the older boys whose lives are driven by greed and personal aggrandisement. Convict them by Your Spirit. Break those patterns. Draw them to Yourself. Give them a new heart and a new spirit. Let them taste the goodness of a life walked with You — the true highs of righteousness, peace, and purpose. Save them, transform them, and use them for Your glory.

We give God the glory. Who are we to pray for the church of God and for those still far from Him? Yet He invites us to come. So we come. We stand. We intercede.

Amen.

Young Hickory and the Deferred Reckoning

James Knox Polk entered the White House in 1845 as Andrew Jackson’s disciplined protégé, the “Young Hickory” who had risen by unwavering loyalty to Old Hickory’s brand of Democratic power. The Whigs, hollowed out by John Tyler’s rebellion against their congressional leadership, were in no condition to stop him. Polk took office with a clear, limited agenda and left it having remade the continental map of the United States. He also left the most dangerous question of the age—the expansion of slavery—largely unaddressed, kicking that political football down the field for the next generation to trip over.

Born on 2 November 1795 in a Mecklenburg County, North Carolina farm household of Scotch-Irish Presbyterians, Polk was the eldest of ten children. His father, Samuel, prospered as a farmer, surveyor, and slaveholder; his mother, Jane Knox, imposed a strict gospel of duty. The family moved to the Tennessee frontier when James was still a boy. Frail health marked his youth. He suffered severe abdominal pain from gallstones and, around the age of seventeen, underwent a brutal operation without anaesthesia in which the stones were cut out. The ordeal left him with a lifelong sense of physical limitation, yet it also hardened an already rigorous self-discipline. He proved a determined student, graduated at the top of his class from the University of North Carolina in 1818, studied law in Nashville under Felix Grundy, and entered politics early. In 1824 he married Sarah Childress, a well-educated woman from a prominent Tennessee family who became an active and capable First Lady. They had no children.

Polk’s political career was built on Jacksonian loyalty. He served in the Tennessee legislature, then fourteen years in the U.S. House of Representatives, rising to Speaker (1835–1839). As Speaker he enforced the “gag rule” that suppressed discussion of slavery petitions. After one term as governor of Tennessee he lost two successive re-election bids as Whig strength grew in the state. By 1844 his national prospects appeared dim. Martin Van Buren’s opposition to the immediate annexation of Texas blocked a two-thirds majority at the Democratic convention. Polk emerged as the dark-horse compromise candidate. Jackson’s endorsement sealed it. He narrowly defeated Henry Clay, whose careful balancing act on Texas and expansion could not match Polk’s clearer expansionist message. Polk pledged to serve only one term and kept the promise.

His presidential record is remarkable for its focus and execution, achieved despite chronic poor health and relentless overwork. He settled the Oregon boundary with Britain by treaty in 1846 along the 49th parallel, avoiding war in the Northwest while securing the Pacific Northwest. He prosecuted the Mexican-American War (1846–1848) after border clashes following Texas annexation, resulting in the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo that transferred California, Nevada, Utah, most of Arizona and New Mexico, and parts of other future states—more than half a million square miles. Domestically he restored the Independent Treasury system, pushed through the Walker Tariff that lowered duties toward revenue levels, and established the Department of the Interior in the final months of his administration. In four years the United States reached the Pacific and acquired the bulk of its contiguous continental territory. Polk drove himself without rest, often working late into the night; the physical toll was visible by the end of his term.

Yet the very success of expansion intensified the sectional crisis. Polk was himself a slaveholder who maintained a Mississippi plantation. He treated slavery as a secondary matter compared with territorial growth and economic policy. The acquisition of vast new lands immediately raised the question of whether slavery would be permitted in them. The Wilmot Proviso and the bitter debates that followed showed how quickly the deferred issue returned. Polk’s determination to expand the nation without resolving the status of slavery in the new territories effectively postponed the reckoning. Democrat shenanigans and partisan manoeuvring had long papered over deeper fractures; Polk’s achievements made those fractures larger and more visible.

The Whig opposition, still recovering from the damage inflicted by Tyler, struggled to present a coherent alternative. Henry Clay’s 1844 campaign asked the mocking question “Who is James K. Polk?” and tried to straddle the Texas issue. Once war came, many Northern Whigs denounced it as an aggressive land grab designed to extend the domain of slavery—“Mr. Polk’s War.” Abraham Lincoln, then a young congressman, pressed the Spot Resolutions demanding proof of the precise location where American blood had been shed on American soil. The party retained formative virtues—constitutional caution, resistance to executive overreach, and an issues-focused approach that had characterised the Adams tradition—but it remained divided between Northern and Southern wings and weakened by earlier internal rupture. Where Democrats under Jackson had perfected the art of trading patronage and favours while cultivating newspaper alliances that favoured message over substance, the more issues-oriented conservatives often found themselves harder to sell and less favoured by the press. Both sides still carried genuine principles; neither had yet found a stable way to contain the explosive combination of expansion and slavery. Democrats were suited to slavery, allowing their corruption. Conservatives were split, with some seeing the corruption as a way of dividing opposition. 

Polk left office in March 1849 popular for having delivered the expansion he promised, but visibly worn down. He returned to Nashville and died of cholera on 15 June 1849, only three months later—the shortest post-presidency of any president who did not die in office. The disease struck a man already exhausted by years of frail health and unremitting labour. He had fulfilled a disciplined agenda and enlarged the nation. He had also enlarged the problem that would, within a dozen years, tear it apart. The Young Hickory had been an effective executive. The deferred crisis he helped create proved larger than any single term.

The Whig Party Was Bigger Than Its Presidents

The American Whig Party was always larger than the men it elevated to the White House. It was a coalition of convenience, not conviction—a gathering of those who opposed Andrew Jackson and his successor more than they agreed among themselves. Like the British Whigs of an earlier age, who found political space by defining themselves against royal overreach while still operating within the system’s favour, the American Whigs thrived by pointing to the failures of Democratic rule. They were effective at that. They were less effective at governing once the pointing stopped.

William Henry Harrison was born in 1773 into the Virginia planter elite at Berkeley Plantation. His father, Benjamin Harrison V, signed the Declaration of Independence and served as governor of Virginia. Privilege was his inheritance. Yet Harrison did not remain a self-regarding aristocrat. He left medical studies for the army, served under Anthony Wayne, governed the Indiana Territory, and fought Tecumseh’s confederation at Tippecanoe and in the War of 1812. The military record was real. The log-cabin imagery of 1840 was theatre, but the man behind it had earned a reputation for personal honesty and steadiness that Jacksonian excesses had made attractive.

Harrison’s 1840 campaign succeeded by fixing attention on Martin Van Buren’s continuation of Jackson’s policies. The Bank War, the Specie Circular, and the resulting Panic of 1837 were not abstract disputes; they were felt in empty pockets and closed businesses. Harrison and the Whigs did not need a fully worked-out alternative programme. They needed only to demonstrate that the Democrats had mismanaged the country and that a change of men would produce a change of results. The slogan “Tippecanoe and Tyler Too” carried the day. Harrison took office on 4 March 1841 and was dead a month later. He never had time to test whether the party that had elevated him would tolerate a president who exercised independent judgement.

John Tyler came from the same Virginia soil and the same class. Born in 1790 in Charles City County, son of a governor, educated at William and Mary, he moved through the House of Delegates, the U.S. House, the governorship of Virginia, and the Senate as a strict constructionist and states’-rights man. He began as a Democrat but broke with Jackson over the expansion of federal power, particularly the Force Bill and the handling of the Bank. The Whigs took him as Harrison’s running mate precisely because he could reassure Southerners wary of Northern commercial nationalism. The ticket was a calculated balance, not an ideological marriage.

When Harrison died, Tyler insisted he was President in full, not an acting placeholder. That assertion of authority immediately collided with the Whig leadership under Henry Clay, who expected a compliant executive to enact a national bank, protective tariffs, and internal improvements. Tyler vetoed the bank bills. Most of the cabinet resigned. The party formally expelled him. He finished his term as a man without a party, governing largely as an independent while still advancing certain national measures (Texas annexation among them) that did not violate his constitutional limits.

After leaving office Tyler remained consistent on the principles that had always defined him. He was a lifelong slaveholder who regarded slavery as a matter belonging to the states, beyond federal interference. In 1861 he chaired the Washington Peace Convention in a last attempt at compromise. When that failed, he sided with Virginia, served in the Provisional Confederate Congress, and was elected to the permanent Confederate House of Representatives. He died in January 1862 before taking his seat. He is the only former U.S. president buried under a Confederate flag.

The party that had used both men fractured along the lines that had always been latent. Northern Whigs, more commercial and eventually more anti-slavery in orientation, flowed into the new Republican Party. Southern Whigs largely returned to the Democrats or passed through the nativist Know-Nothing movement before the sectional crisis swallowed everything. The Whigs had been big enough to defeat Van Buren and install two successive presidents. They were never united enough to survive the exercise of presidential will by either of them.

Integrity cannot be manufactured after the fact. A man who rises on a party of pure opposition and regional balancing acts may later discover that the coalition has no centre strong enough to support principle when principle becomes inconvenient. Harrison was spared the full test by death. Tyler lived long enough to be expelled by the party that had used him and to demonstrate, for better or worse, that his states’-rights convictions were not temporary campaign furniture. The Whig Party was larger than its presidents. That was precisely the problem.