He helps the soul to approach with confidence, and yet with reverence; with filial fear, and yet with an emboldened faith; with zeal and importunity, and yet with humble submission; with lively hope, and yet with self-denial.

—David Clarkson (1622–1686)

Imagine Esther. She stands at the door to the king’s inner court. She has not been invited into his presence. She hesitates, knowing the fateful step to follow.

She may wear the royal robes as a Persian queen, yet she is far more a prized possession than a beloved wife. In fact, the very circumstances of her ascent to the palace were designed to put queens, and all women in the empire, in their place.

Her predecessor had refused the king’s summons when he desired to show off her beauty at a royal feast. In response, the king deposed his queen and launched an empire-wide search for a new one. Esther, an orphaned Jew under the care of her uncle Mordecai, had “won” the pageant. She may be a queen, but she is far from his peer — and not even his only woman.

Esther now stands at a crossroads between one likely death or another. The king has been tricked into issuing an irreversible edict against the Jews, not knowing his new queen is Jewish. Her uncle has pled she help her people and warns she too may die if the decree endures.

At the same time, death may await if she approaches the king unbidden. Known by all, the royal dictate stipulates,

If any man or woman goes to the king inside the inner court without being called, there is but one law — to be put to death.

That is, with one exception. Uninvited visitors will be assumed dead on arrival “except the one to whom the king holds out the golden scepter so that he may live” (Esther 4:11).

Even though Esther questions whether she might not presently be in his good favor (“As for me, I have not been called to come in to the king these thirty days,” verse 11), she embraces the risk and puts her hand to the door, knowing, as she has said to her uncle, “If I perish, I perish” (verse 17).

She enters.

God’s Golden Scepter

Today, some 2,500 years later, we still celebrate Esther’s courage. Faced with such uncertainties and possible death on two sides, she took action that might rescue others, rather than waiting passively for her own fate.

But mark this: those who claim Christ do not stand in Esther’s uninvited, uncertain place when we dare to approach the inner court of heaven. Even though our King’s majesty far outstrips the Persian “king of kings” over 127 provinces from India to Ethiopia, we approach his throne to make our requests with a stunning confidence.

Esther was not wrong to proceed with caution, yet we draw near to a far higher throne and do so with boldness, knowing that, in Christ, the God of heaven already has extended to us his golden scepter.

Come with Awe

Christian prayer invites a striking mingling of the utmost reverence with the deepest confidence.

First, reverence — and nothing less than reverence — befits our drawing near to the very throne of heaven, the seat of God Almighty, the all-seeing, all-just, and all-powerful.

As for that Persian ruler, so-called “king of kings,” so great were “the riches of his royal glory and the splendor and pomp of his greatness” that he could make a show of them for 180 days (Esther 1:4). Known to history as Xerxes the Great, his majesty far outshone that of David and Solomon, and even Nebuchadnezzar and Cyrus. He was the wealthiest and most powerful man alive, more so than any who had lived to that point in time, surpassing not only his peers but his predecessors.

Ponder such a king, and then compare his glory to that of God Almighty. The Majesty who is the “great King above all gods” (Psalm 95:3) is orders of magnitude greater than any Persian ruler. God Almighty deserves far greater reverence upon drawing near. One might dare approach Xerxes, as Esther did, and hope to land his favor. Should we not suspect, then, fear and uncertainty in approaching heaven’s throne that would dwarf that?

Come with Audacity

Yet in Christ, the true king of kings — and great high priest — we are summoned to approach the throne with confidence. While Esther advanced toward the sovereign of Persia with feminine courage, all who are in Christ, men and women, Jew and Gentile, draw near to God Almighty, as exhorts Hebrews, with confidence.

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (Hebrews 4:16)

In Jesus, we come not just to the Seat of Heaven, with its unsurpassed height and greatness, but we come to “the throne of grace.” It is indeed a throne. The Sovereign over all the world and its history sits in omnipotence. His Majesty far outshines the glories of ancient Persia and Greece and Rome and all human glories, past and present, combined. And still, Hebrews bids us come into his presence.

How then might we, weak and inadequate as we are, muster sufficient reverence to approach such a dignitary? We are not left to ourselves, but we have a Helper who is God himself. According to Thomas Boston (1676–1732), God’s own Holy Spirit works in us “a holy reverence of God, to whom we pray, which is necessary in acceptable prayer. By this view he strikes us with a holy dread and awe of the majesty of God” (Complete Works, 11:62.)

And we come to a throne of grace. Can we justly doubt the Father’s favor toward his own Son? The boldness with which we come is not confidence in ourselves, our merit, our dessert, our worth. It is confidence in Jesus, his person, his sonship, his acceptance, his priesthood, his merit, his worth. And here too, we have a Helper. God’s own Spirit, says Boston, works in us this holy confidence: “This is it that makes prayer an ease to a troubled heart, the Spirit exciting in us holy confidence in God as a Father.”

Come in the Spirit

If you ask, “How will I get this mingling right? Is it not beyond me to have both a reverence worthy of God and a confidence worthy of Christ?” Yes, it is beyond us. Which is why the Helper, dwelling in us, is so vital in prayer. He helps us in our weakness (Romans 8:26). He works in us reverence, works in us boldness, and keeps working in us their mingling. And with such help, Joseph Hall (1574–1656) is so bold as to say,

Good prayers never come weeping home. I am sure I shall receive either what I ask or what I should ask.

As we pray, day in and day out, we lean on the Spirit to feed both holy reverence and holy confidence in our hearts. And with his help, we seek to keep the whole story of the whole Christ before us: his self-emptying in becoming human, his self-humbling in going to the cross, and his power and glory in rising from the dead and ascending to heaven and being seated at God’s right hand.

For whole prayers, we need the whole Christ: creator God and fellow man. And we need his whole story: condescension in the incarnation and cross, and exaltation up from the grave and up to heaven and up to the throne. We need his majesty and meekness, which make us both reverent (“Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name . . .”) and confident (“. . . in Jesus’s name we pray”).

Doubtless, our human lives and church lives are complex. In our finitude and sin, we often emphasize one truth to the detriment of another. In both our prayer closets and corporate petitions, we tip toward imbalances — too casual or too timid — and need the rebalancing of the Holy Spirit, the whole Christ, and wholesome fellowship. And so along this journey, God manages this mingling in us, this holy blend of awe before his Majesty and audacity in our Messiah.

What You Ask or Better

So, what became of Esther’s daring entrance?

When the king saw Queen Esther standing in the court, she won favor in his sight, and he held out to Esther the golden scepter that was in his hand. Then Esther approached and touched the tip of the scepter. And the king said to her, “What is it, Queen Esther? What is your request? It shall be given you, even to the half of my kingdom.” (Esther 5:2–3)

So too we come and keep coming — daily in prayer, weekly in corporate worship. God’s Spirit gives us reverence with confidence, humility with boldness, awe with audacity. In light of God’s might, we approach him with holy fear; in light of his mercy, we come with expectant delight.

In Christ, we enter not only assured that we already have the King’s favor but knowing that our Father’s kingdom far surpasses all others. And it is our Father’s good pleasure to give it all, with Christ, to his church.

Knowing our lowliness and Christ’s worthiness, we neither grovel nor saunter into the presence of God. And we do not go home flippant or weeping. In Christ, we will receive what we ask or what we should have asked. Thank you, Holy Spirit.