THE UNQUENCHED ALTAR FIRE. BY W. HAIG MILLER. "The fire shall ever be burning on the altar; it shall never go out."-Lev. vi. 13. WE may well imagine with what reverential awe the young priest of the ancient Jewish Temple must have viewed the fire upon the altar, with which such a solemn charge was connected. The fire in question had originally been lighted by a miraculous display of Divine power. It had had, too, so to speak, a mysterious immortality, having come down for centuries without being extinguished. How anxiously, therefore, would a priest alive to the importance of his trust tend the sacred flame; how he would watch that the fire was kept supplied with fuel of the right kind and of the proper quantity, and how he would guard, by night and by day, that nothing was allowed to come near the altar which could threaten the blazing flame with the catastrophe of extinction. How loving is our Heavenly Father! Not contented with simple admonition, He gives animation to His precepts by clothing them in the beautiful dress of symbol. Under this type of the everburning altar fire, for instance, who does not at once recognise a clear and expressive emblem of the Christian being a priest commissioned to keep the flame of the pure love of God always burning in his heart? It may be profitable briefly to pursue the subject, and its practical teachings. When our first parents walked together in Paradise there was no occasion to remind them of that charge, to keep the altar fire burning. It was the very joy of their being to be always loving and praising God. Every object of beauty which they saw around them ministered the material of adoring gratitude and love. Milton's well-known hymn, which he has placed in the mouth of our first progenitor, doubtless, does not, in its flowing language, overstep reality. In an evil hour, however, sin entered the human temple, brought a consciousness of guilt with it, and instantly man's hallelujahs were quenched as fire is quenched by hissing water. The flame cf love and praise expired; and where there had been previously a cheerful glow, blackened ashes alone remained to tell the tale. Many strange fires, not commanded by the Lord, have since burned on the altar; but the true flame-so far as man's natural powers were concerned-then went utterly out. Many poets, it is true, whose inspiration was not drawn from the fountain that flowed on Zion's hill, have written sweet verses of praise to the God of Nature; but the fire of love of which they have spoken has not been the true fire. When, however, the heart has felt the love of God in sending His Son; when it has been sprinkled with the peacespeaking blood of Christ, then the fallen temple of the human heart is repaired; the Holy Spirit reenters it; the flame of love begins again to blaze on the altar; and the Christian then may be said to receive the charge-"Let the fire ever be burning within thee; let it never go out." That a fire may burn clearly it must be supplied with suitable fuel, and the mercies of God furnish us, so to speak, with an inexhaustible forest of material for replenishing the fire we are now considering. Our great Creator's mercies in Creation and Providence of themselves supply us with unceasing motives to love. Amidst human mountains the summit of Chimborazo rises in magnificent pre-eminence; and so the mount of God's goodness springs aloft into the blue empyrean and above all the everlasting hills with this distinction, that it is always growing larger and larger. All calculation and measurement of its height is baffled; no human trigonometry can scale it. The briefest contemplation of it, were our hearts true, should cause them to burst into flame and call upon all that is within us to praise and magnify God's holy name. The love of our Redeemer in stooping down from the throne of His glory to rescue us from the curse and dominion of sin, and to raise us to everlasting life, is another material which should feed the fire of love. Like, too, those fires in king's chambers, which are made not with common coal, but with costly and fragrant woods, our Lord's kindness should enkindle a flame not only of the purest but of the most incense-breathing glow. A Scottish poet has used language, when speaking of the object of his affection, which might with still and with more propriety be employed, when applied to the all-gracious Saviour: "It heats me, it beats me, It puts me in a flame, To think of Him, to speak of Him, To mention but His Name." The condescension of the gracious Spirit in coming down into the renewed heart, to take up is abode there, is also a consideration which should raise the flame of love like oil poured upon a fire. When royalty has visited a subject's home how is the event remembered, and the memorial of it transmitted to a distant posterity. But lately, in visiting a nobleman's mansion, the apartment which a king had occupied centuries previously, was pointed out as an honourable distinction. But what is this to the dignity implied in the Great Creator Himself tabernacling not for a day but for ever in the heart of His redeemed ones? Condescending love like this should indeed beget love, and cause the altar fire to blaze with renewed lustre. A fire to be kept in vigour must be stirred, and meditation is the act by which the spiritual fire we are considering should be kept in healthful condition. It was while the Psalmist mused that the fire became hot within him. Communion with God and converse with Him in the reading of His Word will, when rightly maintained, have the same effect. It was while Jesus walked and talked with His disciples, and opened up the Scriptures, that their hearts burned within them. Fervent prayer, turned by faith into answered prayer, is also the true coal for the heart's altar. Many a fire is extinguished by the violence of the wind, but no storms of sanctified adversity can put out the fire of Holy Love when God has kindled it. Such currents will only cause the flame to burn with more intensity and with purer lustre. How brightly did the fire of love burn within the heart of Paul in the dungeon of Philippi. How visibly did its flame shine during the dreary darkness of his shipwreck. How again did the same fire glow in the breast of the sainted John, when the Saviour illumined with His presence his convict cell at Patmos. In more recent times the dreary coast of Patagonia, a waterlogged boat, absence of food, the want of friends, the proximity of savage tribes, all these many waters could not extinguish the flame that glowed in the heart of the missionary Surgeon William when he wrote with feeble hands in his diary that not a moment sat heavily upon him; that the irradiation of divine love cheered him, and that he would not exchange his condition for an emperor. Death itself has proved utterly unable to extinguish this flame, and has, on the contrary, only made it burn the more clearly. So was it in the case of the sainted Frances Ridley Havergal, in our own day; and so was it a century ago with the holy William Law. When dying he said: "Take away these garments; I feel a flame of love to God springing up within my heart that will burn to all eternity." That water applied in sufficient quantities will extinguish the fire that was blazing cheerfully but a moment before on the domestic hearth is an everyday fact with which we are all familiar. In like manner, open and allowed sin will act as an immediate quencher of the fire of divine love in the soul. How did David's trespass in the matter of Uriah put out for many a long day the flame of divine love in his heart, and change his songs of praise into the wailings of remorse? But modern chemistry reveals that there are other subtle, and almost impalpable, agencies beside water which will extinguish fire. And so there are secret sinful influences which approach insidiously, and which, if allowed to gain dominion in the heart, will gradually put out the fire of holy love, or cause it at least to burn with sadly diminished power. Undue mixture with worldly company, foolish conversation, frivolous reading, unbelief, unholy tempers-these, and such like things will, if not guarded against, transform the fire upon the Christian's heart from glowing vigour into a feeble, cheerless, smoking thing. May the reader and the writer, then, ask themselves, What is the condition of the fire within? May we, too, ask the Lord to stir us up to holy watchfulness. May we at the same time cast our care in this matter upon our great High Priest, who first kindled the flame of divine love within us, and who alone can properly guard the sacred fire. May He minister to us the supply of the Holy Spirit, that that Divine Comforter may, like the man whom Christian saw in the House of the Interpreter, keep the flame in fresh lustre by pouring secret supplies of oil upon it. Blessed Spirit, breathe upon this fire! Arise, O south wind, with thy gentle gale; and even if it be needful, O north wind come, with thy invigorating breezes, that the fire of divine love, from a feeble, flickering thing, may spread into a steady flame, and minister heat, radiance, and comfort to all around us. "Jesus, Thine all-victorious love ABIDE IN CHRIST,* DAY BY DAY. BY REV. ANDREW MURRAY. "And the people shall go out and gather the portion of a day in her day"-Ex. xvi. 4, Marg. comfort there is in the word: The day's portion for The day's portion in its day: Such was the rule for God's giving and man's working in the ingathering of the manna. It is still the law in all the dealings of God's grace with His children. A clear insight into the beauty and application of this arrangement is a wonderful help in understanding, wherever one, who feels himself utterly weak, can have the confidence and the perseverance to hold on brightly through all the years of his earthly course. A doctor was once asked by a patient who had met with a serious accident, "Doctor, how long shall I have to be here?" The answer, 66 Only a day at a to time," taught the patient a precious lesson. It was the same lesson God had recorded for His people of all ages long before-The day's portion in its day. It was without doubt with a view to this, and to meet man's weakness, that God graciously appointed the change of day and night. If time had been given to man in the form of one long unbroken day, it would have exhausted and overwhelmed him; the change of day and night continually recruits and recreates his powers. As a child who early makes himself master of a book, when each day only the lesson for the day is given him, would be utterly hopeless if the whole book were given him at once; so it would be with man if there were no divisions in time. Broken small and divided into fragments, he can bear them; only the care and the work of each day have to be undertaken, the day's portion in its day. The rest of the night fits him for making a fresh start with each new morning; the mistakes of the past can be avoided, its lessons improved. And he has only each day to be faithful for the one short day, and long years and a long life take care of themselves, without the sense of their length or their weight ever being a burden. Most sweet is the encouragement to be derived from this thought in the life of grace. Many a soul is disquieted with the thought as to how it will be able to gather and to keep the manna needed for all its years of travel through such a barren wilderness. It has never learnt what unspeakable Extract from a very valuable and suggestive book entitled "Abide in Christ," by A. M. (See Notices of Books at the end of this number.) How great the value which this truth teaches us attach to a single day! We are so early led to look at life as a great whole, and to neglect the little to-day; we forget that the single days do indeed make up the whole, and that the value of each single day depends on its influence on the whole. One day lost is a link broken in the chain, which it often takes more than another day to mend. One day lost influences the next, and makes its keeping more difficult. Yea, one day lost may be the loss of what months and years of careful labour had secured. The experience of many a believer could confirm this. - Believer, would you abide in Jesus? let it be day by day. You have already heard the message moment by moment; the lesson of day by day has something more to teach. Of the moments there are many where there is no direct exercise of the mind on your part; the abiding is in the deeper recesses of the heart, kept by the Father, to whom you entrusted yourself. But just this is the work that with each new day has to be renewed for the day, the distinct renewal of surrender and trust for the life of moment by, moment. God has gathered up the moments and bound them up into a bundle, for the very purpose that we might take measure of them. As we look forward in the morning, or look back in the evening, and weigh the moments, we learn how to value them, and how to use them rightly. And even as the Father, with each new morning, meets you with the promise of just sufficient manna for the day for meet Him with the bright and loving renewal of yourself and those who have to partake with you, your acceptance of the position He has given you in His beloved Son. Accustom yourself to look upon this as one of the reasons for the appointment of day and night. God thought of our weakness, and sought to provide for it. Let each day have its value from your calling to abide in Christ. As its light opens on your waking eyes, accept it on these terms: A day-just one day only, but still a day-given to abide and grow up in Jesus Christ. Whether it be a day of health or sickness, joy or sorrow, rest or work, of struggle or victory; let the chief thought with which you receive it in the morning thanksgiving be this: "A day that the Father gave; in it I may, I must, become more closely united to Jesus." As the Father asks, "Can you trust Me, just for this one day, to keep you abiding in Jesus, and Jesus to keep you fruitful?" you cannot but give the joyful response, "I will trust, and not be afraid." The day's portion for its day was given to Israel in the morning very early. The portion was for use and nourishment during the whole day, but the giving and the getting of it was the morning's work. This suggests how greatly the power to spend the day aright, to abide all the day in Jesus, depends on the morning hour. If the first-fruits be holy, the lump is holy. During the day there come hours of intense occupation in the rush of business or the throng of men, when only the Father's keeping can maintain the connection with Jesus unbroken. The morning manna fed all the day; it is only when the believer in the morning secures his quiet time in secret to distinctly and effectually renew loving fellowship with his Saviour that the abiding can be kept up all day. But what cause for thanksgiving that it may be done! In the morning, with its freshness and quiet, the believer can look out upon the day. He can consider its duties and its tempta tions, and pass them through beforehand, as it were, with His Saviour, throwing all upon Him who has undertaken to be everything to him. Christ is his manna, his nourishment, his strength, his life he can take the day's portion for the day, Christ as his, for all the needs the day may bring, and go on in the assurance that the day will be one of blessing and of growth. And then, as the lesson of the value and the work of the single day is being taken to heart, the learner is all unconsciously being led on to get the secret of "day by day continually" (Ex. xxix. 38). The blessed abiding grasped by faith for each day apart is an unceasing and ever-increasing growth Each day of faithfulness brings a blessing for the next; makes both the trust and the surrender easier and more blessed. And so the Christian life grows: as we give our whole heart to the work of each day, it becomes all the day, and from that every day. And so, each day separately, all the day continually, day by day successively, we abide in Jesus. And the day makes up the life. What once appeared too high and too great to attain, is given to the soul that was content to take and use "every day his portion" (Ezra iii. 4), "as the duty of every day required." Even here on earth the voice is heard : Well done, good and faithful servant, thou hast been faithful over few, I will make thee ruler over many; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." Our daily life becomes a wonderful interchange of God's daily grace and our daily praise: "Daily He loadeth us. with His benefits;" "that I may daily perform my vows." We learn to understand God's reason for daily giving, as He most certainly gives, only enough, but also fully enough, for each day. We begin to number our days, not from the sun's rising over the world, nor by the work we do or the food we eat, but by the daily renewal of the miracle of the manna, the blessedness of daily fellowship with Him who is the Life and the Light of the world. The heavenly life is as unbroken and continuous as the earthly; the abiding in Christ each day has for that day brought its blessing; we abide in Him every day, and all the day. Lord, make this the portion of each one of us! WAITING. we find that, after hearing of the sickness of a loved "Nor for a while " (Luke xviii. 4). This is the one, He abode two days in the same place, and history of all unanswered prayer for spiritual bless-that not until Lazarus had been in the grave four ing, for ourselves or others. We have prayed over days, did He raise him from the dead. and over again, yet no answer has come, and we are tempted to give up in despair, saying, "Hath God forgotten to be gracious?" (Ps. lxxvii. 9). The solution of the difficulty, however, is rather to be found in these words, "Not for a while." The parable from which they are taken teaches us that "delays are not denials." The poor widow who implored, vengeance went again and again to a judge "which feared not God, neither regarded man," and at length her importunity prevailed. How much more shall He who "delighteth in mercy" (Micah vii. 18), and who invites His people to pour out their requests before Him (Ps. Ixii. 8), grant their petitions, even "though He bear long with them." Among the numerous promises we have of answers to prayer, we are never told when the answer shall be. God is never in a hurry, but is a waiting God. We can trace this alike in His works of nature and grace. Science tells us that the days of creation, when the earth was being prepared for man, were long ages in duration. The buried coal lay below in the earth for centuries, ere it was discovered and used by man. The seed sown in the ground dies, and remains unseen for weeks and months, before there is the faintest sign of its growth, and the husbandman needs long patience before the harvest is ready for the sickle. In God's purposes of grace, we find the same law of waiting. No sooner had sin come into the world than the promise of a Deliverer was given; but there was a long interval before its fulfilment. The promise was made to Abraham, that his seed should possess the land of Canaan; yet not until the reign of Solomon, and then only for a short period, have the children of Israel been in full possession of their inheritance; which leads us to believe that there is a still more complete fulfilment of the promise in store for them. The Son of God, during His life on earth, knew what it was to wait. We can imagine how, in His infinite love, He must have longed to accomplish the gracious purpose for which He came; yet He passed thirty years in comparative obscurity, doubtless continually grieved with the sight of sin and suffering around Him. Among the instances that we have of His waiting during His public ministry, Jesus waits still. He sits on the right hand of God, until His enemies be made His footstool (Ps. cx. 1). As the Good Shepherd, He waits till each wanderer is gathered; as the Bridegroom, until the Bride is prepared for her Husband (Rev. xxi. 2), when He will come again and receive her unto Himself (John xiv. 3). When we each think how God had waited for the possession of our hearts, drawing us to Himself with the "bands of love" (Hosea xi. 4), can we wonder if He would have us to wait for the accomplishment of His purposes, in providence and grace? Waiting is one of the lessons in Christ's school, a method which He frequently chooses for the discipline and education of His scholars. Waiting teaches us to recognise God's sovereignty. If we could be sure of getting what we want directly we ask for it, we should forget to look upon it as a gift from God; our prayers would become demands; and we should look upon His free gifts as our right. By waiting we learn dependence upon God, as in no other way, if we wait in the spirit of the Psalmist when he says, "Behold as the eyes of servants look unto the hand of their masters, so our eyes wait upon the Lord our God, until that He have mercy upon us" (Ps. cxxiii. 2); looking away from earth, expecting only from Him (Ps. lxii. 5): and we may be sure this expectation will not be disappointed, for "they shall not be ashamed that wait for Me" (Isa. xlix. 23). The whole creation wait upon God, depending on Him for their meat" in due season" (Ps. civ. 27, and cxlv. 15); and shall man, who alone of all God's works can know Him, and for whom He has not spared His only Son (Rom. viii. 32), depend upon Him less to satisfy his needs? Waiting exercises our faith and patience. These increase by exercise, as the muscles of our bodies grow stronger by use. In waiting, God would have us give Him our trust and confidence as to the time and way in which He will accomplish His purposes; believing that all things will eventually "work together for good" (Rom. viii. 28). He "knows" our patience (Rev. ii. 2), and recognises our faith as work for Him (John vi. 29). |