eyesight fails, faith can see the way. It can see but in part, it is true,
for our earthly state answers well to the prophet Zechariah's description:
"And it shall come to pass in that day, that the light shall not be clear
nor dark. But it shall be one day which shall be known to the Lord: not
day, nor night; but it shall come to pass that at evening time it shall be
light."
Moreover, how adapted is our subject to _cheer_ God's people and prompt
them to quiet, patient resignation under dark and afflictive providences.
What if sometimes we can see nothing but the furnace smoking; we know that
behind it somewhere is the lamp of fire.
How too are we impressed with the truth that there is something left for
us to learn _in heaven_, something yet unrevealed which we do not see, but
which we hope for, which makes us reconciled to the thought of leaving
this dim, misty realm of time, and to wait in anxious expectation till the
day break and the shadows flee away. Oh be content, Christian, a little
longer to walk by faith, for by and by the smoking furnace will have
passed away for ever, and heaven will welcome you to its cloudless
revelations.
Learn to walk humbly before that God who surrounds your path. See him in
the clearest form in which he has revealed himself, even in the incarnate
Son our Saviour. Through him alone can we approach the Father. Through him
alone can we hope to see his face, and obtain salvation and deliverance
from his wrath.
X.
The Altar of Incense.
AND THOU SHALT MAKE AN ALTAR TO BURN INCENSE UPON. AND THOU SHALT PUT
IT BEFORE THE VAIL THAT IS BY THE ARK OF THE TESTIMONY, BEFORE THE
MERCY-SEAT THAT IS OVER THE TESTIMONY, WHERE I WILL MEET WITH THEE.
EXOD. 30:1, 6.
The saying of Augustine, that in the Old Testament the New is hidden, and
in the New Testament the Old is opened up, agrees with the teachings of
Paul in the epistle to the Hebrews, which declare that the rites and
ceremonies of the Mosaic institute serve unto the example and shadows of
heavenly things. This being so, the institutions of the ancient church of
God are not obsolete and meaningless to us. Although their literal
observance has ceased, still the profound and important truths of which
they were the symbols survive--truths which shine forth unveiled in the
clearer revelation of the gospel. These ancient symbols claim our careful
study still; for they are helps to faith now, and serve to illustrate and
enforce those didactic truths of the New Testament which, through the
feebleness of our spiritual perceptions, often fail to impress us as they
should.
Our attention is directed by the text to the altar of incense placed in
the tabernacle which Moses constructed under the immediate direction of
God.
The tabernacle was designed to be the local habitation of God, to bring
him near to his covenant people, and to keep up a direct intercourse
between him and them.
Through it God condescended to help the natural weakness of the human
mind. In dealing with divine and spiritual things, the soul universally
feels the need of help. It is lost in the infinity of God's nature. It
longs for some definite apprehension of him, some nearer fellowship than
it can enjoy in the conception of the great unseen and distant Jehovah.
The pathetic desire of Job finds a deep response in every thoughtful soul:
"Oh that I knew where I might find him, that I might come even to his
seat."
The gospel dispensation satisfies this craving for some visible link to
conduct our thoughts to God, by exhibiting to us God manifest in the
flesh--the divine Word dwelling among us. But before Christ came no such
aid appeared. God however gave to his ancient church the tabernacle, where
he would dwell; thus bringing distinctly to their minds his presence in
the midst of them. Here lies the spiritual significance of that sacred
structure. It was God's dwelling-place among the people. It brought God
near to them, holding converse with them, and approachable by them.
This sacred structure consisted of two distinct parts: the inner chamber,
called the holy of holies, where Jehovah dwelt. There was the ark of the
covenant, upon which rested the mercy-seat, and over which hovered the two
cherubim with extended wings. There the shechinah abode, the strange,
unearthly sign of Jehovah's presence.
This hallowed apartment was hidden from the public gaze. No creature
footstep dared to cross its threshold, save the high-priest, and he but
once a year, on the great day of atonement. God indeed dwelt among his
people, but it was in awful, mysterious, solitary grandeur, which allowed
no rude familiarity, no irreverent approach.
The second apartment of the tabernacle was called the holy place, where
the priests and Levites daily ministered; the furniture of which was the
altar of incense, the table of show-bread, and the golden candlestick with
its seven lamps. The vail separated this part from the holy of holies.
Here the people appeared only by their representatives in the priestly
office.
Surrounding the entire structure was the court, enclosed by curtains,
where the Israelites assembled and brought their sacrificial offerings. In
this court stood the altar of burnt-offerings. Here was the spot where the
blood of the bullocks and of rams was shed; where the altar fires blazed;
where the robed and mitred priest gathered the blood with which he entered
the holy place. Here the penitents confessed their sins and sought for
pardon. Here the grand scene was enacted which proclaimed continually that
without the shedding of blood there was no remission.
Bear in mind this description of the several parts of the tabernacle and
their design, while we approach immediately to THE ALTAR OF INCENSE and
study the deep spiritual significancy which surrounds it.
Observe, that connected with this sacred structure there are but two
altars.
The first one that confronts us when we would approach where God is, is
the "altar of burnt-offerings," in the outer court. We gaze here upon the
bloody sacrifices. Here are the touching scenes of suffering and death.
Here are the types of the great atonement made in the passion and death of
Jesus Christ. Here we are taught that if we would attempt to reach God's
presence, we must first of all come to the blood of Christ. We must stand
by the altar of burnt-offering. We must find the Lamb slain from the
foundation of the world. There was no way into the holy of holies of the
tabernacle but by that altar. There is now no way to God but through a
dying Saviour.
Within and beyond this altar, in the holy place, stood the second altar,
the altar of incense. What was the spiritual significance of this altar?
On it no victims were slain, no blood was shed; but the priests daily
burnt upon it incense, a preparation of pure frankincense and other sweet
spices, which yielded a fragrant and refreshing odor.
The symbolical meaning of this incense-offering is plainly given us in the
Scriptures. It is not propitiation or atonement; that is made already in
the outer court; but it is the pure devotion of the saints--the prayers,
intercessions, and worship of God's true people. Thus David says, in the
141st Psalm, "Let my prayer be set forth before thee as incense, and the
lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice." Here is a direct
reference to the priests' burning incense on the altar every evening at
the time of sacrifice, when they entered the holy place to light the lamps
of the golden candlestick.
The prophet Malachi also describes the pure worship of the universal
church of God by the same symbol: "For from the rising of the sun, even
unto the going down of the same, my name shall be great among the
Gentiles: and in every place incense shall be offered unto my name, and a
pure offering; for my name shall be great among the heathen, saith the
Lord of hosts." Again, in Luke 1:10, we read that when Zacharias the
priest went into the temple to burn incense, the whole multitude of the
people were praying without at the time of incense; that is, while they
stood in the outer court and worshipped, the incense was burning in the
holy place before the vail. But more impressive still is the scene which
John witnessed in his vision of the heavenly world: "And another angel
came and stood at the altar, having a golden censer: and there was given
unto him much incense, that he should offer it with the prayers of all the
saints upon the golden altar which was before the throne. And the smoke of
the incense which came up with the prayers of the saints, ascended up
before God out of the angel's hand." In chapter five he declares that the
golden vials full of odors are the prayers of saints.
In these Scripture passages we have a clear explanation of this altar of
incense standing in the holy place. The offering made upon it is not of
blood; it is the fragrant breath of flowers, the odor of beauteous plants,
exhaling their sweet and ravishing perfume from their own inner life, and
filling the holy place with a refreshing vapor most delightful to the
sense. This is God's chosen figure of the devotions and prayers of true
believing hearts who approach near to him. These offerings of the heart
are sweet to Jehovah as the balmy fragrance of choicest flowers. They are
the soul's exhalations, the breathings of its spiritual life, the fervent
aspirations of the renewed and sanctified spirit, as delightful to God as
are the sweetest odors of the rarest plants and spices to the bodily
sense.
Oh what a view do we get of God while we crowd around this incense altar.
Now we can pray in earnest; now we can offer him our best and holiest
affections; now we pour out our thanksgivings and confessions; for our
worship rolls heavenward like the fragrant cloud of burning incense, and
God above is pleased to accept it and to bless it.
But let us be careful what we call worship. Let us not forget that the
incense of our prayers and devotion derives its perfume directly from the
intercession of Christ, who, as our high-priest, has gone into the holiest
before us with his blood. Without a living faith in him, a vital union
with him, so that he intercedes not only _for_, but _in_ us by his Holy
Spirit, we cannot stand before this altar.
We have no incense. If there be any excellency in our prayers, or purity
in our devotions, to insure their acceptance, it is because of his Spirit
making intercession for us. We burn our incense before the mercy-seat, and
the cloud rolls heavenward from the altar; but whatever fragrance it bears
is derived from the cloud already there, the incense of the Saviour's
intercession, with which it mingles and floats around the throne,
breathing sweet odors before Jehovah's face.
We are standing in the holy place. Let us examine well the incense we
presume to offer, for says Jehovah, "Ye shall offer no strange incense
thereon, nor burnt-sacrifice, nor meat-offering: neither shall ye pour
drink-offering thereon." Special directions were given, and special care
was taken for the preparation of this incense of the tabernacle. It was
associated with the deepest sacredness. The people were forbidden to use
it upon any common occasion; the priests alone could burn it upon the
altar.
Is it in the power of language to teach us more impressively than this
incense-altar does, that we should come with the utmost care and
preparation to present to God our prayers and worship? Think not that any
thing and every thing you may bring as incense will be accepted. Vain will
be your lip-service; vain your cold, heartless offerings. Strange incense
it is you profess to burn when the soul still harbors its evil passions,
when pride and worldliness and sensuality are cherished there. There may
be the bowed head, and the bent knee, and the solemn utterance of
devotion; but God's immediate eye is on you, and will detect the emptiness
of all your service. Such service is a profanation of the holy place. Such
incense only provokes the Most High to anger. Beware lest the fire you
kindle to burn it with break forth upon you and consume you, for says
Jehovah, "Ye shall offer no strange incense" upon my altar. What then must
be the state of our hearts in order that we may bring a pure offering of
incense before God? What is necessary to acceptable prayer and worship?
To answer this, come once more by the altar and examine its position. It
stands in the holy place of the tabernacle. To reach it the worshipper
must come through the outer court--must pass the altar of burnt-offering.
There he learns that there is no access to God except by blood. There he
learns of atonement through the sacrifice of Christ. There he stands as a
sinner who needs an expiation. There he makes his confession, and lays his
hand upon the head of the sacrificial victim. He can get to the
incense-altar only after he has stood there and found a propitiation for
his sins.
Learn then, that if you would assay to approach God, you must come first
of all to the cross. You must find an atonement for your sins through the
Lamb of God. There is no other way of access to him but by faith in the
blood of Jesus. Come first to Calvary, and gaze upon the great
propitiation, the Victim dying amid the altar-fires of divine justice.
Come as a sinner, for pardon and purification. Come with his blood
sprinkled upon you, with faith in his merits only, or else you cannot gain
access to God.
2. The altar of incense stood very near the holy of holies, the immediate
dwelling-place of God. "And thou shalt put it before the vail that is by
the ark of the testimony, before the mercy-seat that is over the
testimony, where I will meet with thee." To burn our incense upon this
altar we must come very near to the mercy-seat, to the vail, to the holy
of holies. Faith in the merits of a Redeemer emboldens us to take this
place. It is most holy ground we stand on when we offer our praises and
prayers upon this altar. We are close to God. The incense-cloud ascends,
and penetrates the inner sanctuary. We gain a fellowship and communion
with God. Faith brings us to cordial intimacy with God. Such is the
nature of that acceptable worship which was so vividly symbolized by the
burning incense in the holy place before the mercy-seat.
3. But it is worthy of remark that near as was this altar to the Shechinah
and the cherubim, the vail still hung between. Near as we draw to God in
prayer and worship, he is still invisible to sense. Christ, our great
Intercessor, has entered within the vail. Our vision cannot follow him,
whom not having seen we love. We cannot yet gaze upon the immediate glory;
we cannot yet approach the throne. The vail hangs before us, and "we walk
by faith, not by sight." We stand with holy reverence, and bring the
incense of our hearts upon the altar; but we dare not attempt to look
within. Faith stops there, waiting at times to catch the whisperings of
grace from off the mercy-seat, and to hear the rustling of the vail.
"There will I meet with thee," says God. There the true worshipper will
hear the answers to his prayers; there will the soul find peace and
blessedness.
Such are some of the great truths symbolically taught in this department
of the Jewish tabernacle. Nor can it be said that the pious Israelites did
not understand them. They read the impressive lessons; they saw the
meaning of those rites; they looked beyond the outward and the sensible. I
verily believe they had a quicker discernment of the deep spiritual
meaning of God's ancient ritual service than many so-called Christians who
boast of gospel light and privileges. Yes; it might be well for many to go
to school to Old Testament believers to revive their piety, to follow the
ancient priest through the solemnities of the tabernacle service, and
learn from the sweet singer of Israel the spirit of devotion.
What a view does this subject give us of what true worship is. It is the
incense of the soul rising up to heaven like a perfumed cloud. It is near
fellowship of the heart with God. The prayers and confessions, the
supplications and thanksgivings of the saint bring him close to the
mercy-seat. Nothing but the vail hangs between him and God. "There will I
meet with thee," saith Jehovah. This is the Old Testament view of true
devotion. Oh how far beyond the cold and distant formalism, the hackneyed
routine of many Sabbath services of these New Testament times. Oh was not
God nearer in thought to many a pious Jew standing in the tabernacle
court, than he is to multitudes in our gospel sanctuaries, who gather
there, not to meet with God and tremble and rejoice in his felt presence,
but only to listen to a creature worm, and find entertainment in the
eloquence of the preacher?
Again, how strait appears the way of access to God. How carefully must we
approach him. Many seem to think that God is easily accessible, and that
they can come to him at any time and in any way they please; that little
or no preparation is needed to gain his favor; that the sinner in the hour
of sudden alarm can cry for mercy and be saved; that the dying reprobate
may mutter a prayer and go to heaven; that the heartless formalist may
read his collects and please God; that no matter what may be the creed or
life, God may be found whenever the sinner wishes for him; that all may
seek and find him in the way they please, and one way is as good as
another. Such are the loose notions many entertain of gaining heaven.
But our subject scatters them like the chaff of the threshing-floor. The
holy of holies, where God waits to meet with us, is not reached in any way
we please. The heart's incense must be carried within the holy place
before it can be offered. There stands the only altar on which it can be
burned. But to get there we must first find an atonement at the altar of
burnt-offering in the outer court. There is no getting near to God but
through the blood of Christ. There is no salvation in any other name. Only
as a sinner, contrite and believing in a dying Jesus, can you find God.
Go, stand by the cross: there, with deep repentance and humble faith, seek
for an interest in the pardoning blood of the Son of God, and then may you
pass through to the holy place, and pray and praise and worship. But
without first coming to the atonement of Jesus Christ, all your pretended
regard for God is mockery; your religious service is but strange incense,
which God abhors.
Before we close, let us lift our eyes upward from these patterns of
heavenly things to the heavenly things themselves. For in heaven, John
tells us, he saw the golden altar, and the angel with the incense-censer
before the throne. This incense-offering is the prayers of saints. In that
world of blessedness the altar stands without the vail before the throne
of God. There the redeemed worship face to face; there they gaze upon the
Godhead, and cast their crowns at the feet of Jesus. Faith gives way to
vision, and they behold the face of God in righteousness. Oh what a
prospect lies before the saint. Are we preparing for such a service? Do we
expect to join in the worship before the throne? How diligent should we be
to cultivate a spirit of devotion while in this tabernacle below. Though
we are now outside the vail, how should we strive by faith to meet with
God, and find answers to our prayers. What a solemn hour should this be to
us in the sanctuary, when we appear before the mercy-seat and offer the
incense of our prayers and thanksgivings.
XI.
Eating under the Juniper-Tree.
ARISE AND EAT; BECAUSE THE JOURNEY IS TOO GREAT FOR THEE. 1 KINGS
19:7.
These words, though originally spoken to the prophet of God under peculiar
circumstances, may still have a meaning when applied to the believer.
Though written aforetime, they were written for our instruction when we
are brought into straits and trials.
They came to the prophet in one of the darkest hours of his ministry.
Though he had gone through Samaria with signs and wonders, and though he
had signally triumphed over the prophets of Baal, and had witnessed their
destruction, still the reformation of the nation which he had looked for
seemed further off than ever. All the miracles he had wrought, and all the
teachings he had uttered, seemed to be worse than in vain; for now,
instead of submission, there is nothing but exasperation, and the
abandoned Jezebel swears vengeance upon the prophet. He despairs of the
redemption of Israel, and turns his back in flight from Samaria. Without
any special divine direction, he wanders over into the territories of
Judah as far as Beersheba. But there is no rest for his troubled and
dejected mind; and he flies from the haunts of men and plunges onward and
onward into the wilderness towards Horeb, as though, in the savage
wildness and solitude of nature, he would find sympathy with the
desolation that reigned within him.
But night overtakes the wanderer, and he is forced to halt and lie down
under the protection of a juniper-tree. There his troubled thoughts dwell
upon the past, and he revolves in his mind the complete failure of his
mission to Samaria, the miracles which he had wrought, and the vengeance
which was pursuing him. All was lost. 'Twas useless to undertake to preach
more or to labor more for that idolatrous people. Disappointment has
crowned his every exertion, and not a ray of hope shines from the future,
to call back the request of the Tishbite that he may die. In his despair
and anguish he mutters, "It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life."
He sleeps. But one of the ministering spirits is at his side, in this hour
of desperate extremity. The prophet, at his touch, starts up and eats. The
gnawings of hunger being partially allayed, he again sinks down to sleep,
till again the angel touches him, and bids him eat the more; for he is not
to die yet. He has not yet done his work; he must tread the wild crags of
Horeb, and back to Ahab and Samaria, once more. "Arise and eat; for the
journey is too great for thee."
We must have a poor faculty of apprehending spiritual lessons, if we allow
this narrative to pass without some practical instruction.
We do not tax our imagination severely in order to see, in the person of
Elijah, a representation of the child of God in seasons of depression and
despair. Not unfrequently is he brought into the position of the prophet.
Not at all times is he privileged to stand upon Zion, and to rejoice in
hope. But a thousand circumstances in life conspire to disappoint his
hopes and becloud his prospects, till he flees from his post, and is found
far away under the juniper-tree in the wilderness.
When the sanguine expectations which he indulged at the beginning of his
discipleship, become one by one disappointed; when he finds that Christian
experience is a far different affair from what he had conceived of; when
straits and trials spring up around him at every turn of life, such as he
had not counted on, and the work of grace in his heart seems, after all,
to amount to nothing; when new and unlooked-for symptoms of corruption are
daily brought to light, and the ardor of his first love is dampened by the
checks and crosses that thicken around him--when thus his early dreams are
dissipated, and his heart feels a sickness and a faintness come over it,
do you not see that he is in the wilderness? Oh who has not sickened at
the slow work of grace within him? Who has not marked the sad contrast
between what he once said he would be, and what he is; and who has not
felt the harassments of doubt and the vanity of his own strugglings, till
he despaired of success, and fled like the prophet to the wilderness?
And then ofttimes the little good which the Christian accomplishes in the
world is enough to drive him to dejection. The Tishbite fled because he
saw no good from all his labors. Doubtless he had expected that, with the
support of miracles, he should soon have worked a reformation in Israel.
But though at his word the heavens had been shut up, and though at his
prayer the fire of God had descended to attest his mission, still the
whole outlay of means seemed to end in nothing. His expectations had not
been met; and under the burden of the keenest mortification, the most
hopeless dejection, he lies down by the juniper-tree and prays for death.
Have you never lain there with him, Christian?