The Ten Virgins

THE TEN VIRGINS

 Rev. Alexander Stewart, D.D.

 “Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom,” Matthew 25:1-13

Parable of the 10 virgins from our
Sunday School blog here.

       It is night in an Eastern city; the narrow streets are deserted; sunk in slumber are the inhabitants of the houses, the dark outlines of which can be traced against the sky. From one solitary dwelling only beams a light, faint and flickering. In the chamber whence it emanates a strange group of human beings is gathered together. The apartment is adorned with all the circumstance of Oriental luxury. Upon low divans and sumptuous cushions, carelessly but picturesquely dispersed upon the floor and against the walls, repose a number of female figures, attired, not for sleep, but for the stirring scenes of the feast and the dance. The sleep that blesses in the intervals of intense excitement, when the wearied body undergoes a reaction, and the thought of excitement to come is not sufficient to sustain the exhausted energies—in those moments when, all that could be done having been done, there is nothing left but to wait—has overtaken them. There, as they sat in sprightly conversation, the merry voices hushed and the ringing laugh ended, while the flickering lamp by the side of each casts its dancing light across dark tresses, rich garments and closed eyelids, they slumber and — sleep. 

       Deep silence reigns within and without. The solitary tread of some late wanderer or the bark of the dogs which infest the streets of an Oriental town alone disturb the universal quiet. One hour, and yet another, passes by; midnight is at hand. And now in the distance is heard the faint sound of music, mingled with shouts of joy, and the deep murmur of an approaching multitude. They come nearer, the sounds become more distinguishable, and not to be mistaken. A long line of light is traced through the winding thoroughfares, the glare of torches is cast upon the fantastic buildings. And now the wild cry is raised: “ Behold, the bride- groom cometh; go ye out to meet him.” Within that dwelling all is at once hurry and confusion. Busy feet are rushing to and fro, the work of preparation is completed, answering shouts of jubilance are raised. The chamber where all was recently so still is now a scene of life and bustle. The virgin companions of the bride rouse themselves from slumber, trim their lamps, and, taking their oil vessels with them, go out into the night to meet the bridegroom. Small pause is made as they join themselves to the procession. The joyful train sweeps onward. Arrived at the bridegroom’s dwelling, they find all open for their reception; they pass in, and the doors are shut. Useless is it then for any dilatory guest to knock at those gates. A strong guard is placed over them, who will not allow any interruption of the festivities. When the friends are so numerous and the occasion so important, it is justly considered that any one by being unready proves himself unworthy of the privileges to which he had been summoned. 

       Such is the scene to which our Lord alludes in the parable before us—a scene very familiar to those, to whom it was originally addressed. Few among them could have failed to have been present at just such a ceremony. And indeed, with that tenacity of custom and observance characteristic of the East, scenes precisely similar in all important particulars are still to be observed and have been described by travelers of the present day. With what force and vividness must this illustration, drawn from their own domestic life and surrounded with the most endearing associations, have fallen upon the ears of our Lord’s disciples. Nor has the interest of it declined with years. Among the similitudes by which Jesus illustrated the different phases of the “kingdom of heaven”—that kingdom whose subjects are the spirits of men, whose laws are summed up in love, which He came to establish upon earth—few are so replete with solemn warning, tenderly and delicately administered, few have been the subjects of more careful study and more loving contemplation than the parable of the Ten Virgins. 

       The central thought of the parable is the fact that the call of duty comes to some prepared and to others unprepared for its discharge ; and the consequent warning that mere unreadiness will render all other qualifications of no avail and of no value, excluding both from the possibility of performing what is required and from participation in the reward which attends on that performance alone. The duty of all the virgins alike was to accompany the bride and bridegroom to their abode. The wisdom of the wise virgins consisted in their perfect preparedness to do so, the foolishness of the foolish in their unreadiness and want of care. And in order to place in a more striking light the great danger of that sin of presumption and improvidence against which the whole parable is designed as a warning, all other imaginable causes of the final catastrophe are put aside. Only in one point did the wise and foolish virgins differ, yet upon that one point turned their widely different destiny. A hundred strong links may be in the Chain, but a single weak one renders the whole useless. Unreadiness, neglect, carelessness, trusting that some- thing will happen opportunely, or that some contingency which we fear will never come to pass, instead of being prepared, as far as lies in our power, for every event—such is the sin of which we are here taught to beware. Such is the error, the evil consequences of which are as surely inevitable as it is true that lost opportunities can never be recalled. 

       No doubt in this parable—indeed in all the parables of this chapter—Jesus was primarily referring to the experience through which His disciples and the Church would be called upon to pass—the former when He was taken away from them, the latter when He came again to judge the world in the glory of His Father and of all the holy angels. When He came again would He find faith on the earth? Would there be the earnest expectation, the looking for the revealing of the power of God? Or would it be as in the days of the Noah, when all went on with most mundane regularity, the mirth and the festival, the marrying and giving in marriage, with no higher outlook, with no thought of the impending doom, until the day when Noah entered into the ark and the period of grace was over? ‘Watch,’ is the Savior’s admonition— “Watch, therefore ; for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.” 

       I propose, however, to consider the parable, of which these words form the fitting and impressive conclusion, in a much more general way. I take it as a type or symbol of those calls of duty, of those opportunities of good, which we from time to time receive, which we may use or neglect, and which according to our use and neglect of them will be for our happiness or our shame. Christ comes to us with every call of duty, His voice summonses us to work and to endure for Him. If we are ready, we are able to answer the call and to accompany the bridegroom to the marriage; if we are unprepared, He passes on, and the door is for ever shut. It is of no use then to plead our worthiness in other respects, our willingness to perform this duty also, if only we had the present ability ; it is unavailing to point to the preparations we have already made, or to ask for time to perfect them. That constitution of things under which we live is ruled by the inexorable law that reward only attaches to duty done, and that we can only make sure of performing duty by being at all times thoroughly prepared for its discharge. 

       For observe, these virgins were all alike qualified for the task which lay before them. When the foolish virgins came to the door seeking admission the plea was never once advanced that they were in any way unfitted for their office. It was their folly, and that alone, which had excluded them. So there is no man, however naturally depraved, however weighed down with a load of guilt, who is thereby unfitted to become an object of God’s redeeming mercy in Christ. The chief of sinners may be transformed into an angel of light, and he whose hand had wrought only works of darkness may be made willing and strong to do the will of his Father who is in heaven. 

       Again, these virgins were all alike chosen; they were the chosen friends of the bride and bridegroom, selected to bear a special and important part in the nuptial ceremonies. They had no excuse to offer for the non-fulfilment of any duty; they could not evade it on the plea that it was not incumbent upon them. They had an individual responsibility with respect to it; they had been summoned individually and specially to perform it. Not only so, but they had accepted the office entrusted to them voluntarily ; it was no compulsory service. “They went forth to meet the bridegroom.” We are never unbidden guests in God’s presence, we are never unenlisted soldiers in God’s army; if we are there at all we have come at God’s invitation and of our own free will. No duty, therefore, which can present itself is not incumbent upon us; our commission is a general one to do whatever we can for Him. And still less can that special duty to which we have been called, which we have voluntarily undertaken, be excusably laid aside. As it was the virgins’ obvious and natural duty to accompany the bridegroom, so is it ours carefully to do that for which we are peculiarly fitted, to which we feel we have been peculiarly summoned. 

       Further, these virgins were up to a certain point all alike prepared to meet the bridegroom; all were furnished with brightly-burning lamps. They fully comprehended what that duty was which would be required of them; they went forth from their homes with the deliberate purpose of discharging it, and according to their views of its magnitude were not unprovided with the means of doing so— They took ''their lamps” with them. Had the bridegroom come when they expected him, they would all alike have entered in to the marriage. A possible cause of the final exclusion of some is here again laid out of account. They had not committed the gross carelessness of bringing no light whatever with them. They had not even provided themselves insufficiently apart from the consideration of delay. In every point they seemed fully prepared for the efficient performance of everything that was likely to be required of them. So may a Christian man be now fully equal to his duty. His soul cleansed from sin by the purifying blood of Christ, many evil tendencies overcome by the work of the sanctifying Spirit, he may be fully conscious of being called by the Divine voice and upheld by the Divine strength; he may hunger and thirst after some deed to be done for God, some suffering to be undergone for His sake ; he may be preserving his body in purity, and his soul in uprightness; he may be a vessel full of grace, a lamp very brightly burning. Oh, that he might be brought face to face with his task! Oh, that the steps of the bridegroom would hasten, while the firm-set lips betoken resolution and the heart beats with a generous warmth! Oh, that this high hope would never fail and this enthusiasm grow cool no more! 

       But at this point a distinction between the virgins emerges. We learn from a Jewish author that ten lamps or torches was the usual number in a marriage procession, and the selection of ten as the whole number of the virgins is probably thus accounted for; but of these in this instance five, we are told, “were wise, and five were foolish. They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them; but the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps.” Some have supposed that by lamps torches are meant or wicks fastened on staves and supplied with oil from the accompanying vessel. This would support the view that the foolish virgins were wholly without faith, that their lamps were never lit, had never really burned. But apart from the consideration that this would alter the whole lesson of the parable, which turns on the distinction not between faith and no faith, but between an enduring and an unenduring faith, that the lamps here mentioned were proper lamps, and that the oil was kept in a separate vessel for future replenishment, not for immediate consumption, is evident from the seventh and eighth verses. There we are told, not that the virgins lighted their lamps, but that they trimmed them, and the foolish virgins complain, not that the lamps could not be lighted, but that they were going out. The lamps had thus been burning all the time the virgins were slumbering, and therefore must have had a store of oil in themselves apart from the oil-vessels which accompanied them. 

       All alike, then, had filled their lamps with oil, but the wise virgins had filled the oil-vessels too. They made provision against delay. Had, then, the thought of delay not occurred to the foolish virgins? It must have done so, but they had evidently not realised it as they ought. Yet the bridegroom came by midnight, and in the East it is not uncommon for him to be detained beyond that time. Had these virgins not been deficient in interest and zeal, they would not have run the risk of exclusion from the festivities for want of a sufficient store of oil, which might have been so easily procured. They were careless— they probably never thought of ascertaining whether they were adequately provided; or they were presumptuous—they thought that, if — required, some one would perhaps be superabundantly supplied; or they were idle—they did not want the trouble of going to those that sold the oil, but chose rather to run the risk of the bridegroom coming upon them unprepared. But whichever of these was the actual cause of the omission, each and all would have been impossible to a more burning zeal, to a more ardent enthusiasm. Had their love to the bride been more intense, had their interest in the proceedings been more real, had their sense of duty been more commanding, they would have anxiously contemplated every possibility and provided against every contingency, as the warrior going into the battle examined every link and every buckle of his armor. As it was, they were ready for present duty, but had not contemplated delay. So there are those who are ready to obey all ordinary requirements, and make all ordinary sacrifices for God and Christ, who in the day of special duty and special trial are found wholly unprepared. They are of those ignoble souls who, if. only they are saved, are willing that it should be as “by fire.” To live as little out of the world and as little opposed to the world’s customs and prescriptions as a Christian can well do, is the life they select for themselves. To have the faintly beating pulse and the nerveless frame of one just recovering from a death-like torpor is their idea of life. Ah, what mean these cold, corpse-like figures with their flickering lamps in the marriage procession? This is the season of high-hearted youth, of warm hearts and jubilant faces, of loud voices and untiring limbs, of lamps flaring out upon the darkness. Will the bridegroom accept that frigid greeting instead of the warm, enthusiastic reception which befits the occasion? Oh, ye who think so to serve God, ye deceive your own souls! The call of duty will oftentimes come to you when you are unequal to it. Great things as well as small are to be done in the world. Never imagine to yourselves limits to the duties for which alone you have to be prepared. Be ready for the greatest, and you will not be wanting for the less; but if you think only of the least, the greater will overwhelm you in ruin. That which was fatal to the foolish virgins was the delay of the bridegroom. You may have been ready for a duty once, yet have allowed your watchfulness to slacken. Learn to imitate the wise virgins, and, prepared for every contingency, possess your soul in patience. Let not your sword get rusted from inaction, let not your vigilance be lulled into security, let not the oil dwindle; be ready at all times for all things. “This is the point of the parable,” says Calvin, “ that it is not enough to have been once girt up and prepared for duty, unless we endure even unto the end.” Observe, it was not from want of time that no oil was provided—for the bridegroom tarried; nor was it from excess of occupation—for while he tarried they all slumbered and slept. Even then, at the last hour, that which was requisite might have been procured; and better then than later—when the bridegroom was already approaching, and when, as they actually found themselves compelled to go and buy, they consequently lost the opportunity of participating in the marriage festivities. 

       “They slumbered and slept.” God does not summon us to useless tasks. There was no need that they should watch; all that was required of them was to be ready. The wise virgins slept the sleep of innocence and virtue. They had done all they could; their duty was patiently to wait, yea, to sleep, that they might not be wearied and sleep-oppressed when called to more active exertion. The foolish slept the sleep of ignorance and carelessness. Who could now distinguish between them? None; until the awaking revealed what they were. “At midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him.” The time for action had at length arrived; the pealing summons fell upon waiting ears. “Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out,” or, as in the Revised Version, “our lamps are going out.” There is here no want of inclination or of willingness; they arise with full purpose of obeying the call; they set about the final preparations necessary, apparently unconscious of the true state of matters, or at least not fully realizing it. Now, when they come to trim their lamps the foolish virgins perceive for the first time the error they have made, but the remedy is apparently easy. Indolence and _ selfishness not infrequently go together. Those who will not think or act for themselves are not unwilling to take advantage of the greater foresight and energy of others. There is as little apprehension as remorse in the calmness of the solicitation, “Give us of your oil; for our lamps are going out.” But the importance of the occasion demands a supply which can only be met by individual prudence. At such a time there is nothing over. With all their wisdom the wise virgins were able to bring no more than sufficed for their own requirements. There is no unkindness or want of generosity in their reply. “Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you”; still less is there mockery in their advice, “but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves.” The imprudent must bear the consequences of their imprudence; neglect and sloth are not so easily remedied as they suppose. A present effort, an endeavor hastily to accomplish what should have been long ago and leisurely cared for, is the only alternative. When an extraordinary  duty comes to a man who has only prepared himself for ordinary duties, it may not find him unwilling to attempt it. But he soon discovers his want of strength; he has allowed his opportunities of spiritual sustenance to pass away unimproved. The human assistance, which he at first invokes, is powerless to help him. Each man has his own burden to carry, his own contest to wage. Each man’s strength, even at the best, is barely sufficient for that which devolves upon him. Besides, responsibility is individual; it cannot be shifted from one to another. Are you ready for the calls to be made upon you is the question addressed to each. If, through neglect and sloth, you be not ready, the opportunity for discharging that duty may pass never to return. 

       But when human aid is unavailing, may not Divine aid still be sought? It may. Instead of sinking under despair, or sinfully acquiescing in the passing away of the opportunity, go to them that sell, and buy; in other words, seek, in the appointed means of grace, the aids of God’s Holy Spirit, the supply of the strength which you need. It may be that the call of duty will not have ceased to sound before you are able to answer to it. Too frequently, however, is the fate of these careless ones that of the foolish virgins. “While they went to buy the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut. Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. But he answered and said, Verily, I say unto you, I know you not.” To obtain the requisite grace may require time, and meanwhile the occasion passes by. The virgins went and bought, they came back supplied; there was nothing then to prevent them from fulfilling their office, save that the opportunity had passed. We are not told that they could not buy, that the shops were shut, but simply that it was too late for that time. They never wanted will, now they have strength also, but they cannot recall lost opportunities. Not even the marvelous power of prayer can bring back the chance of discharging duty neglected. 

        In vain they cry at the door, “Lord, Lord, open to us.” With the duty there has also passed away from them position and privilege. The bridegroom knows only as the attendants of the bride those who met him on his way, and conveyed him to his abode. No others have any claim upon him. They only are the true wedding guests who are ready to go in. Absence from whatever cause involves a forfeiture of all rights. They only who have discharged the duty can participate in the reward. It is nothing to have the name or the outward appearance of a Christian, it is by action alone that sincerity is attested and approved. 

        We have thus considered the parable in its more general bearing and in its reference to the thought which underlies it, and we have endeavored to show how every circumstance enforces the warning which it is designed to urge upon men. But there is a special application in the light of which it is, as I have already mentioned, more frequently regarded. It is a solemn thought that there will be a final coming of the Bridegroom when those who lack oil shall go in vain to them that sell. The time for buying will be forever gone. There is a call continually sounding in our ears, with which it is our wisdom to comply. It is the call to participation in the mind and life of Christ, in His life of Sonship toward the Father, and of brotherhood toward men... It is the call to accept the salvation which He offers, which He purchased by His precious blood. Now: may this offer be accepted, now may the living waters be partaken of without money and without price, now has eternal life its abode among men. But He who now comes in mercy will hereafter come in judgment, and they who have pierced Him upon the earth shall look upon Him with despairing eyes. Woe unto those, whose darkened lamps shall then betray them, who come seeking entrance at the shut door, and meet the inexorable reply, “Verily, I say unto you, I know you not”! 

        Let us, brethren, learn to watch and to wait, as well as to struggle and contend, let us sleep in our armor, let us work with the sword girt upon our thigh. Let us have our lamps trimmed and burning and a constant supply of oil to replenish the sinking flame, that when the great cry arises at midnight, “Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him,” we may obey the call at once and without fear, that when we come to the everlasting doors we may find them open for us, and enter in, invited and willing and ready guests, to celebrate the marriage supper of the Lamb. The gates will not be for ever open, the invitation will not be for ever offered; some, in the full glory of that glorious festival, shall lay aside their flickering lamps in the place where no sun is needed, for the Lord God is the light of it; while others shall hear the distant echoes of the joy and catch faint glimmerings of the light as they wander like wandering stars in the blackness and darkness reserved for them for ever. 

 “Watch, therefore ; for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh,” Note.—Lord Lytton’s Vision of Virgins is a poetical rendering of this parable. A reprint of it, revised by the author, may be found in the New Testament volume of Mr. Garrett Horder’s Poets Bible.

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Verse and Quotes About Angels

 Think you the notes of holy song
On Milton's tuneful ear have died?
Think ye that Raphael's angel throng
Has vanished from his side?
                            -John G. Whittier.

What shall I be when days of grief are ended,

From earthly fetters set forever free;

When from the harps of saints and angels blended

I hear the burst of joyful melody?

                                                             -Langbecker.

Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs,

Join to sing the pleasing theme;

All in earth, and all in heaven,

Join to praise Emanuel's name.

                    -Rev. Jonathan Evans.

The world recedes, it disappears;

Heaven opens on my eyes; my ears

With sounds seraphie ring.

                                              -Pope.

I heard an angel singing

When the day was springing:

"Mercy, Pity and Peace

Are the world's release!"

          -William Blake.

O providence beyond compare!

O glorious vision, wondrous sight!

O miracle, transcending far

Imagination's boldest flight.

Horses and chariots of fire

About the mount keep watch and ward;

The highest seraphim aspire

To form Elisha's body-guard.

              -John Brooke Greenwood.

It has been said of William Blake that he "created the most

perfect, tremendous and dramatic types of angelhood that have

ever been given to the world, as accrurately shown as though they

had stood in Blake's little chamber while he drew." The man

himself, like Fra Angelico, believed that they did. With a firm

hand he pictured how "the morning stars sang together and all

the sons of God shouted for joy."

                                                                      -Isabel McDougal

The Lord, my Maker, forming me of clay,

By His own breath the breath of life conveyed;

O'er all the bright new world He gave me sway,

A little lower than the angels made.

                                                       -St. Theophanes.

To weary hearts, to mourning homes,

God's meekest angel gently comes:

No power has he to banish pain,

Or give us back our Lost again;

And yet in tenderest love, our dear

And Heavenly Father sends him here.

                                                 -Whittier.

For the great eye that sees us never sleeps;

It has its ministering angels wheresoe'er

Existence is beneath us, and above,

Around us, and within us, He has there His delegates.

                                                              -Lord Byron.

This was manna coming from heaven, where angels dwell.

                                                                                -Strong.

But when we shall have got to heaven, shall we hear the Word

and eat and drink with Him as the angels do now? Do the angels

need books and interpreters and readers? Surely not. They read

in seeing, for the truth itself they see, and are abundantly satisfied

from that fountain, from which we obtain so few drops.

                                                                                            -Augustine.

The obedience of the angels is absolutely perfect, and that

with perfection of both parts and degrees.

                                                                          -Bishop Hopkins.

Yet being pregnant still with powerful grace,

And fruitful love that loves to get

Things like himself, and to enlarge his race,

His second brood, though not of power so great

Yet full of beauty, next he did beget

An infinite increase of angels bright

All glistening glorious in their Maker's light.

                                               -Edmund Spenser.

Ye holy angels bright

Who stand before God's throne,

And dwell in glorious light,

Praise ye the Lord each one!

Ye there, so nigh

Are much more meet

Than we, the feet,

For things so high.

                                           -Baxter.

Angels! With regard to their essence or nature, they are all spirits,--not material beings, not clogged with flesh and blood like us; but having bodies, if any, not gross and earthly like ours, but of a finer substance, resembling fire or flame more than any of the lower elements. And is not something like this intimated by the Psalmist? As spirits, he has endowed them with understanding, will, affections, and liberty.

                                                                                                                                            -Wesley.

O God, who can doubt that You could create spirits without a body? Or is there need of a body that one might understand, love, and be happy? You who are Yourself so pure a spirit--are You not incorporeal and immaterial? Are not intelligence and love spiritual and immaterial operations which can be exercised without the need of a body? Who doubts, then, that You could create intelligencies of this kind? And You Yourself have not left us in doubt, but have revealed Yourself and the existence and nature of angels to us.

                                                                                                                                     -Bossuet.

These things the seer Isaiah did befall:

In spirit he beheld the Lord of all

On a high throne raised up in splendor bright,

His garment's border filled the choir with light.

Beside Him stood two seraphim, which had

Six wings, wherewith they both alike are clad;

With twain they hid their shining face, with twain

They hid their feet as with a flowing train,

And with the other twain they both did fly.

                                                -Martin Luther.

Round His throne archangels pour

Songs of praise forever more.

                       -Carmina Sanetorum.

If God gives them charge concerning us, how cheerfully and

trustfully we ought to enter upon the journey of the opening

year! When we need them most, they may be at hand.

                                                           -Theodore L. Cuyler, D. D.

O our angel friends above us!

Come, illume our darkened sphere,

Let us know that still you love us,

Let us feel your presence here.

                             -Submit C. Loomis.

Mighty God, while angels bless Thee,

May a mortal sing Thy Name?

Loved of men as well as angels,

Thou art every creature's theme,

For the grandeur of Thy nature--

Grand beyond a seraph's thought.

                                          -Albert Lowe.

A pillow for thee will I bring,

Stuffed with down of angel's wing.

                           -Richard Crashaw

The Angels were all singing out of tune,

And hoarse with having little else to do,

Excepting to wind up the sun and moon

Or curb a runaway young star or two.

                                                    -Lord Byron

Sleep undisturbed within this peaceful shrine,

Till angels wake thee with a note like thine.

                                                                   -Johnson.

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth

Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep.

                                                             -John Milton.

From yon veil of midnight darkness rending,

Came the rich mysteries to the sleeper's eye,

That saw your hosts ascending and descending

On those bright steeps between the earth and sky;

Trembling he woke, and bowed o'er glory's trace,

And worshipping awe-struck in that fearful place.

                                                              -Mrs. Hemans.

Let Thy bless'd angels while I sleep

Around my bed their virgils keep.

                                 -Bishop Ken.

Yet to pure eyes that ladder still is set,

And angel visitants come and go.

                                -William Alexander.

Angels descending, bring from above,

Echoes of mercy, whispers of love.

                                -Fanny J. Crosby

Voices are heard: a choir of golden strings,

Low winds whose breath is loaded with the rose;

Then chariot wheels; the nearer rush of wings;

Pale lightning round the park pavilion glows;

It thunders--the resplendent gates unclose.

Far as the eye can glance, on height o'er height,

Rose fiery waving wings, and star--crowned brows,

Millions on millions, brighter and more bright,

Till all is lost in one supreme, unmingled light.

                                                      -Crowley.

Opens a door in heaven;

From skies of glass

A Jacob's ladder falls

On greening grass,

And o'er the mountain-walls

Young angels pass.

                 -Tennyson.

Which of the petty kings of earth

Can boast a guard like ours,

Encircled from our second birth

With all the heavenly powers?

Myriads of bright cherubie bands,

Sent by the King of Kings,

Rejoice to bear us in their hands,

And shade us with their wings.

                          -Charles Wesley.

We trust in plumed procession

For such the angels go-

Rank after Rank, with even feet-

And uniforms of Snow.

                      -Emily Dickinson.

There are silent, unseen forces

Unto truth that are allied;

And the legions of the angels

Aid us from the other side.

There are voices from the silence

Soft as sweep of seraph's wings.

                              -J.A. Edgerton.

Heavenly messengers have been represented in all ages of the

church as furnished with wings.

                                                                         -McClintock.

In guise a seraph wrapt with love aflame

And all aflame with knowledge, like the bush

That burned with God in Horeb unconsumed.

                                                -Prof. Wilkinson.

Onward -- ever onward pressing,

Yet untired as an angel's wing.

                                         -Anonymous.

Age and Oratory

 This is the description of one who had the privilege of hearing Gladstone, in the autumn of 1896, make his last great oration in Liverpool:

       See the old man with slow and dragging steps advancing from the door behind the platform to his seat before that sea of eager faces. The figure is shrunken. The eyelids droop. The cheeks are as parchment. Now that he sits, his hands lean heavily upon his staff. We think, "Ah, it is too late; the fire has flickered out; the speech will be but the dead echo of bygone glories." But lo! he rises. The color mantles to his face. He stands erect, alert. The great eyes open full upon his countrymen. Yes, the first notes are somewhat feeble, somewhat painful ; but a few minutes pass, and the noble voice falls as the solemn music of an organ on the throng. The eloquent arms seem to weave a mystic garment for his oratory. The involved sentences unfold themselves with a perfect lucidity. The whole man dilates. The soul breaks out through the marvelous lips. Age? Not so! this is eternal youth. He is pleading for mercy to an outraged people, for fidelity to a national obligation, for courage and for conscience in a tremendous crisis. And the words from the Re- vised Version of the Psalms seem to print themselves on the listener's heart: "Thou hast made him but little lower than God, and crownest him with glory and honor."

Man Godlike

 Man Godlike

Swarming across the earthly crust,
Delving deep in the yellow dust.
Raising his ant-hills here and there.
Scoring the soil for his humble fare,
Braving the sea in his tiny boat -
Tireless he struggles, this human mote.

Tempests scatter his ant-hills wide,
Vainly he braves the boiling tide.
Fire will ruin his busy mart.
Famine stilleth his throbbing heart.
Trembles the earth and prone he falls,
Crusht and tombed by his pigmy walls.

Heir of the kingdom 'neath the skies,
Often he falls, yet falls to rise.
Stumbling, bleeding, beaten back,
Holding still to the upward track;
Playing his part in creation's plan.
Godlike in image - this is man!

Lilium Candidum Symbol of The Annunciation

       Over time many flowers have been used inside the church to designate something, an event or person in scripture. Both medieval scribes, and then much later the Victorians, maintained religious floral symbolism in their liturgical traditions, illuminations and paintings. One of the most consistently used floral symbols still used today is the lily.
       ''The Lilium Candidum'' is a popular symbol of the Annunciation. In many pictures of the Annunciation it is shown, either growing in a pot, or else held in the hand of the Virgin or the Angel Gabriel. As a rule it is stamenless, and my even have a tiny flame of fire resting upon it.'' Webber 

Scriptures To Learn In Reference to The Lily Symbol:

• ''And in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth, To a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin'a name was Mary. And the angel come in unto her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly favored, the Lord is with thee:blessed art thou among women. And when she saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be. And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favor with God. And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name JESUS.'' Luke 1:26-28

The painting of the Annunciation by Leonardo Da Vinci depicts an angel giving to Mary,
mother of Jesus, a lily. This is never described in the Bible, however, it is a very old
symbol designated by Christian artists in the church to symbolize the event. 

 

Elijah rides away in a firey chariot...

Description of Illustration: chariot on fire, friends part, horses gallop toward Heaven, departure of a prophet, scripture reference 2 Kings 2:11, old manuscript

Have a question about the illustration? Just type it in the comment box and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. I only publish content that is closely related to the subject, folks.

Deborah, "Is not the Lord, gone out before thee?"

"Is not the Lord gone out before thee?"

       The only woman in the Bible who was placed at the height of political power by the common consent of the people was Deborah. Though she lived in the time of the "Judges," some thirteen centuries before Christ, there are few women in history who have ever attained the public dignity and supreme authority of Deborah. She was like Joan of Arc, who twenty-seven centuries later rode in front of the French and led them to victory.
       Deborah was the wife of an obscure man named Lapidoth. The rabbis say she was a keeper of the tabernacle lamps. If so, what a wonderful yet humble task for this woman who was to become so great in Israel! Later, when her faith in God became the strength of Israel, she would become the keeper of a new spiritual vision that
would light all Israel.
       In all of her roles, first that of counselor to her people, next as judge in their disputes, and finally as deliverer in time of war, Deborah exhibited womanly excellence. She was indeed "a mother in Israel.'' She arose to great leadership because she trusted God implicitly and because she could inspire in others that same trust.
       For twenty years Jabin, king of Canaan, had oppressed the children of Israel. Their vineyards had been destroyed, their women dishonored, and their children slain. Many had turned to the worship of idols.
       Deborah's story comes in the first part of the book of Judges. These men were more than judges in today's meaning of the term, for they were chieftains and heroes as well, and their influence was felt mainly in war. Long before Deborah became a leader in war, she was a homemaker. Her house was on the road between Ramah and Beth-el, in the hill country of Ephraim, where flourished olive and palm trees. It was under one of the most royal of date palms that she would sit and give counsel to the people who came to her.
       As a counselor in time of peace, Deborah became known far and near, but her greatest service came in time of war. And she led her people into war. Most of them had stood by fearfully because they were afraid of the enemy's 900 chariots of iron, when they had none. While they paled with fear, Deborah burned with indignation at the oppression of her people. A gifted and an intrepid woman, she felt a call to rise up against such fear and complacency, for she carried in her heart the great hope that God would come to her people's rescue if they would honor Him.
       Because the men of Israel had faltered in leadership, Deborah arose to denounce this lack of leadership and to affirm that deliverance from oppression was at hand. Her religious zeal and patriotic fervor armed her with new strength. She became the magnificent personification of the free spirit of the people of Israel.
       We can imagine that Deborah looked the part of a great and noble woman. She must have had fire in her eyes, determination in her step, and a positive ring to her voice. We can see her, a tall, handsome woman, wearing a dress of blue crash striped in red and yellow and a yellow turban with a long, pure-white cotton veil, lace edged, reaching to the hem of her dress. A feminine woman, who never had had the ambition to push herself forward, Deborah better personified the homemaker in Israel than a warrior. But as she counseled with her people and began to sense their common danger, she kindled in them an enthusiasm for immediate action against the enemy.
       She had the courage to summon one of Israel's most capable military men, Barak, from his home in Kedesh. Together they worked out a plan for action against the enemy. Deborah let Barak know she was not afraid of Sisera, commander of Jabin's army; neither was she afraid of his 900 chariots. She made him feel that the spirit that could animate an army was greater than either weapons or fortifications. Probably she recalled to him that God had led the Israelites through the Sea of Reeds and had broken a mighty oppressor, Pharaoh. And she made Barak realize that God, who had proved Himself to be mightier than Pharaoh, also was mightier than either Jabin or Sisera.
       "Go," spoke Deborah positively to the fainthearted Barak, "and draw toward mount Tabor, and take with thee ten thousand men of the children of Naphtali and of the children of Zebulun." (Judges. 4:6). And she convinced Barak that the Lord would deliver Sisera and his chariots and multitudes into their hands.
       Barak, sensing the spiritual insight that Deborah possessed and feeling the urgent need for her presence and spiritual counsel, answered, "If thou will go with me, then I will go: but if thou wilt not go with me, then I will not go." (Judges. 4:8) . That is one of the most unusual passages in the Bible spoken by a man to a woman. It demonstrates a general's great confidence in a woman, a homebody, too, who had risen to a high place in Israel largely because of one quality, her abiding faith in God.
       Without hesitation, the stouthearted Deborah declared triumphantly, 'I will surely go with thee; notwithstanding the journey that thou takest shall not be for thine honor; for the Lord shall sell Sisera into the hand of a woman." (Judges. 4:9). In these words Deborah demonstrated more than leadership. Her people were to discover that she was also a prophet.
       In Judges 4:9 we learn that "Deborah arose, and went with Barak to Kedesh." That one word"arose" best explains her positive action. She did not sit at home and ponder the matter when the time came for action, but she arose, believing firmly that she was armed with strength from God.
       When Barak summoned his tribes of Zebulun and Naphtali to Kedesh, he saw that none was well armed and none rode in chariots. But Deborah's faith carried the Israelites forward unafraid. When she and Barak and their ten thousand men came to the spur of the hills, near where Sisera and his charioteers were, Deborah, looking out from a lofty rock, exclaimed to Barak, "Up; for this is the day in which the Lord hath delivered Sisera into thine hand: is not the Lord gone out before thee?'' (Judges. 4:14).
       We learn directly from Josephus and indirectly from the song of Deborah that a storm of sleet and hail burst over the plain from the east, driving right into the face of Sisera and his men and charioteers. The slingers and archers were disabled by the beating rain, and the swordsmen were crippled by the biting cold.
       Deborah and Barak and their forces had the storm behind them and were not crippled by it. As they saw the storm lash the enemy, they pushed on, believing all the more in providential aid. The flood waters were now racing down the Kishon River. So violent was the rain that Sisera's heavy iron chariots sank deep in the mud, and as they did, many of the charioteers were slain. And the hoofs of the cavalry horses splashed through the mud as a small remnant made its retreat.
       Sisera, abandoning his mighty chariot, ran for his life through the blinding rain. He managed to reach the tent of Jael, wife of Heber the Kenite. Because the Kenites had been at peace with Sisera, he thought that here he would be safe, especially since Jael had come forth to offer him her hospitality. Weary from battle and comforted by the warm milk and lodging which Jael had so hospitably given to him, Sisera fell soundly asleep. And as Sisera lay sleeping Jael took a peg which her husband had used to stretch the tents on the ground and with a hammer drove it into Sisera's temples.
       Hot in pursuit of Sisera, Barak soon came to the tent of Jael. She went out to meet him and said to him, "Come, and I will shew thee the man whom thou seekest." (Judges. 4:22) . And Jael took him into the tent where lay the dead Sisera. It was just as Deborah had prophesied: "For the Lord shall sell Sisera into the hand of a woman.'' (Judges. 4:9).
       To celebrate this great victory the Ode of Deborah, one of the earliest martial songs in history, was composed. It began: "Praise ye the Lord for the avenging of Israel.'' (Judges. 5:2). Deborah took no credit to herself. She gave all the credit to God, for she knew that only He could cause the earth to tremble, the heavens to drop torrents of water, and the mountains to melt. In the song she is called "a mother in Israel.''' for she, like a mother, had led the panicky children of Israel to victory. Their cry to her to lead them echoes in the refrain: "Awake, awake, Deborah: awake, awake, utter a song." The tribes of Israel who had stood by her in the conflict were praised.
       Tribute is paid to Jael for putting Sisera to death. In every line of the song one senses Deborah's extreme devotion to God and to the well-being of her nation. At the end of the song, which runs through thirty-one verses of Judges 5, her courageous voice sounds forth like the clear notes of a trumpet of freedom. Her people were  no longer enslaved. Now with her they could declare, "So let all thine enemies perish, O Lord; but let them that love him be as the sun when he goeth forth in his might." Such fire as Deborah possessed literally never died out of Israel.
       Her glorious victory is best recorded in these concluding but meaningful lines of her Bible biography: "And the land had rest forty years" (Judges. 5:31).

Miriam, "Sing Unto the Lord"

Miriam watches over baby Moses.

       Miriam is the first woman in the Bible whose interest was national and whose mission was patriotic. When she led the women of Israel in that oldest of all national anthems, "Sing Unto the Lord," four centuries of bondage in Egypt had been lifted. It was a turning point in Israel's religious development and a woman led in its recognition.
       The portrait of Miriam, brilliant, courageous sister of Moses, is drawn in a few graphically real strokes. We have the first picture of her in Exodus 2:4, 7 when she was a little girl. Here she is not named, but is referred to only as Moses' sister. Her courage at this time gives an indication of the kind of woman she was to become.
       As she stood guarding her baby brother in the ark made by their mother Jochebed, she exhibited a fearlessness and self-possession unusual in a little girl. She was then probably about seven years old. Though she was awaiting the coming of a powerful princess, the daughter of a hostile tyrant who had decreed that all male babies should be destroyed, Miriam showed poise, intelligence, and finesse. When the daughter of Pharaoh came down with her maidens to the banks of the Nile to bathe and found the little Moses lying there in his ark, Miriam approached her quietly, asking if she would like her to find a Hebrew woman to nurse the baby.
       Never disclosing by look or word her own relationship to the child, she brought her mother Jochebed to Pharaoh's daughter. The child Moses was safe at last behind palace walls, with his own mother as his nurse.
       Through the years that passed, while Moses was in Pharaoh's house, and during the subsequent period when he had left the scene of courtly splendor to live some forty years in Midian, the Bible gives us no record of Miriam. There is also no record of her during Moses' long pleadings with Pharaoh to release his people, so that they might return to the land of their fathers.
       Through the long oppression of the Israelites by hard taskmasters, we can be sure that Miriam was ministering to her people and that she was reverenced as the honored sister of Moses and Aaron, who were to lead the Hebrews out of bondage and form a new nation. The prophet Micah attests to this when he says, "For I brought thee up out of the land of Egypt, and redeemed thee out of the house of servants; and I sent before thee Moses, Aaron, and Miriam." Mic. 6:4
       The second scene in Miriam's life opens when Israel's deliverance is at hand. Wondrous miracles attesting to the mighty mission of her illustrious brothers had unfolded, and thousands of Hebrew people
were departing from Egypt.
       Miriam now occupied a unique place among the Hebrew women, that of prophetess. The Hebrew word "prophetess - means a woman who is inspired to teach the will of God. It is also used for wife of a prophet, and is sometimes applied to a singer of hymns. The first meaning must be applied to Miriam because the Bible gives no record that she was ever married. Tradition has it that she became the wife of Hur, who with Aaron held up the hands of Moses, but we have no warrant whatever in Scripture, by direct word or inference, to confirm this tradition. 
       The next scene depicts Miriam in all her triumph. A strong wind had backed up the waters of the Sea of Reeds, and Miriam led the Hebrew women across the dry sea bottom. Following hard upon them came Pharaoh's detachments of chariots and horsemen. But the sea came flooding back and they were swallowed up in the water. We can see Miriam as a commanding figure, her face radiant in this hour of her people's deliverance. She and the women following behind her moved forward on dry ground through the midst of the sea when the waters were a wall on their right hand and on their left. Miriam played on a timbrel and danced joyfully as she led the song: "Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea." Exodus 15:21
       This Song of Deliverance, sometimes referred to as the Song of Miriam and Moses, is one of the earliest songs in Hebrew literature, and one of the finest. What part Miriam had in the composition of this national anthem, the oldest on record, is not known, but in weaving it into the conscious life of her people she had an equal share with Moses and Aaron.
       Miriam is the first woman singer on record. The wonder of it is that she sang unto the Lord, using her great gift for the elevation of her people. With her they exulted over their escape from their enemies. And with freedom came a newly discovered faith and confidence in God. This was Miriam's great hour. She was the new Israel's most renowned woman, and her people held her in high regard. She had filled an important role in the founding of the Hebrew commonwealth.
       The third scene in Miriam's life offers a sharp contrast to this one, and occurs some time later. Some chronologists believe it took place only one year after the passage across the Sea of Reeds, but this period seems hardly long enough for Miriam's character to have changed so completely. Miriam has had a spiritual fall - and over what we would least expect. She has spoken against her brother Moses.
       The limitations in Miriam's character come into clear focus in this third dramatic scene in her life. No longer does she stand on the summit as she did in her triumphant hour. She is still an exalted person, but no longer a leader in exultation. This time she is a leader in jealousy and bitterness. Probably she had become rebellious because her place was secondary to that of her brother Moses.
       With Aaron, we hear her murmuring, "Hath the Lord indeed spoken only by Moses? hath he not spoken also by us? And the Lord heard it." Numbers 12:2 In this delineation of the envious, bitter side of Miriam's character, following so soon after the courageous, inspiring scene of the woman who had sung to God so joyfully, we have one of the most perfect examples in the Bible of woman's mixed nature of good and evil.
       Another reason for Miriam's conflict with her brother Moses had arisen. He had married again. His first wife Zipporah, a Midianite, had died. His second wife was a Cushite (Ethiopian), a dark-skinned woman from the African country bordering on Egypt. Opinions vary about this woman. Some scholars think that Moses married only once.
       It is probable that Miriam, older than Moses by about seven years, had expressed herself quite freely against her brother's wife from an idolatrous country. That an Ethiopian should be raised above herself, who was a daughter of Israel, was, to one of her evidently proud spirit, unendurable. Because she had such pride in her own race, she may have told Moses that he should have chosen his wife from among his own people. Her great mistake was that she made her complaint public. It tended to break down the authority of Moses and to imperil the hope of the Israelites.
       On the other hand, she rang a warning bell to others who might follow Moses' lead. When a man's wife is opposed to the religion of his country, especially the wife of a man occupying the lofty position of Moses, his cause is in peril. And Miriam evidently feared this. She was not alone in her thinking. Aaron was a partner in the complaint, but Miriam's name was placed first. Probably it was she who brought up the matter to Aaron and influenced his thinking. There is a peculiar analogy between Miriam's sin and her punishment. The foul vice of envy had spread over her whole character, like the loathsome disease which had overtaken her. Her sharp words made more real the words James spoke many centuries later: "And the tongue is a fire, ... it defileth the whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature.'' James 3:6
       Leprosy, the pale plague of Egypt regarded as providential punishment for slander, had smitten Miriam down. She had become a leper "white as snow." Numbers 12:10 "And "Moses cried unto the Lord, saying, Heal her now, O God, I beseech thee." Numbers 12:13 Though she had held a grudge against him, Moses acted toward her in a spirit of love. Probably when he saw his sister leprous, he remembered that he had once been stricken with leprosy, too. (Exodus 4:6)
       We can assume that the heart of Miriam was touched by her brother's love. Though she was shut out of camp for seven days, in accordance with the regulations of the Israelites (Num. 12:15), she was not shut out of the hearts of those she had led in their triumphant hour. Though wearied from their long wanderings and impatient at every delay in reaching the Promised Land, "the people journeyed not till Miriam was brought in again." Numbers 12:15 Doubtless the leprosy of Miriam's mind departed with the leprosy of her body.
       The fourth and final scene in Miriam's story takes place at Kadesh, probably in the Wilderness of Zin, some seventy miles south of Hebron. Tradition tells us that after her death her funeral was celebrated in the most solemn manner for thirty days. Like her brothers Aaron and Moses, Miriam did not reach the Promised Land but died in the wilderness; however, her cry of exultation, "Sing unto the Lord" which had signified freedom for the newborn Israel, could not die.