I. SYMBOLISM.

1. Miracles of mercy. Mercy has been called God's darling attribute; judgment is his strange work. The only-begotten Son, who has declared the Father unto us, has manifested the selfsame character. His miracles are miracles of mercy - all save two. Of these two, one was permissive and punitive, when our Lord allowed the devils to enter into the swine of the Gadarenes; the other, which is recorded in this passage, is a sort of symbol such as the old prophets used when they inculcated any solemn utterance, or wished specially to impress any predicted event. This custom was common in New as well as in Old Testament times. Thus Jesus washed his disciples' feet. Thus also Agabus, when he foretold Paul's imprisonment at Jerusalem, symbolized the fact by taking the apostle's girdle and therewith binding his own hands and feet, saying, "So shall the Jews at Jerusalem bind the man that owneth this girdle." In like manner our Lord, by this miracle of the blasted fig tree, most symbolically and significantly sets forth the blight of barrenness which so justly fell upon the Jewish people, and which is sure to fall upon any people or any person who has only the leaves of an outside profession, but who wants the fruits of a genuine faith or a heartfelt piety. To pronounce a curse on a senseless tree might appear meaningless - it might even seem vindictive. Not so, however, when the Savior, in order to express the hopes which the appearance of the tree excited, and the disappointment which its want of fruit occasioned, devoted that tree by a striking figure to future and for ever fruit-lessness. He thereby converts that tree into a symbol of the hypocrite or false professor, be he Gentile or be he Jew; and makes it a danger-signal, at once to warn us of the danger and ward off the doom.

2. Judgment succeeds the abuse of mercy. Another lesson which our Lord teaches us by this tree is the consequence of abused mercy. When mercy has been abused, judgment must succeed. The day of grace does not always last; and when that day has passed, and its privileges have been misused, the axe is then laid to the root of the tree, that it may be hewn down and cast into the fire. Such was the case with the body of the Jewish nation at the very time this miracle was wrought. Their day of grace was expiring. Their heart had remained untouched by that most pathetic appeal, "If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace!" Now, however, they were hid from their eyes. A woe similar to that pronounced on Chorazin and Bethsaida and Capernaum had gone forth against all that people, notwithstanding the fact that they had once been the people of God, and notwithstanding the many and great privileges which they had enjoyed, as well as the loud and leafy professions they had made.

3. The relation of the miracle of the fig tree to the parable of the fig tree. The fact of this relationship should be kept in view. The miracle narrated in this passage and the parable recorded by St. Luke are in a great measure the converse of each other. The parable of the fig tree long spared through the intercession of the vine-dresser, and this miracle of the fig tree suddenly withered to the very roots, are to a large extent the right opposite of each other. The one represents mercy pleading, the other judgment suddenly and surely Overtaking the guilty; the one the long-suffering kindness of God, the other the swift vengeance of Heaven; the one mercy prevailing over judgment, the other judgment without mercy; the one a tree spared in hope of fruitfulness, the other a tree suddenly scathed to the very earth because of its barrenness. There is, however, one point, and only one point, in common; and that is, the end of continued unfruitfulness is cursing, the end of barrenness is burning, and the end of all leaf and no fruit is the speedy execution of the sentence, "Bind them in bundles, and burn them."

4. A comparison and a contrast. In the sixth chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews, we find a beautiful comparison and an awful contrast; by the former the lesson of the parable is enforced, and by the latter the warning of this miracle receives a solemn sanction. "The earth," we there read, "which drinketh in the rain that cometh oft upon it, and bringeth forth herbs meet for them for whom it is dressed, receiveth blessing from God: but that which beareth thorns and briers is rejected, and is nigh unto cursing; whose end is to be burned."

II. OUR LORD'S DISAPPOINTMENT.

1. He hungered. The Savior was on his way from Bethany to Jerusalem. It was in the morning, and he was hungry. This may appear strange. What had been the matter with the friendly family of Bethany, under whose roof our Lord had been so often and so hospitably entertained? Had they forfeited the high character for hospitality which they had so well earned? Had they forgotten its rights and become inconsiderate towards their Guest - a Guest whom they so highly honored, and who had such claims upon them? Had they forgotten his wants, or neglected to supply them? Had Martha ceased her thrift, and given up her housewifery? Be this as it may, it could be no intentional neglect, much less a studied slight; it must have been some strange oversight. Or, as our Lord's time on earth was soon to terminate, and as much was to be done that day, perhaps he left Bethany at an earlier hour than usual; and, doing so, he could not wait till the customary hour for breakfast, and would not allow the household arrangements to be broken through for his convenience. Or perhaps he wished to reach the temple in time for the morning sacrifice at nine o'clock, before which time a devout Jew seldom broke his fast. Or perhaps he was so intent on his Father's business, and so intensely absorbed in his own great work, and so rapt in contemplation of its grand results, that he neglected the food provided for him. Or, in the absence of any direct statement, and where we are left to conjecture, we may suppose that it is just possible that he had shunned the shelter of any roof, and spent the previous night in prayer on some lone hillside or other sequestered spot. At all events, the broad fact stands out that he, by whom all things were made, became hungry; that he, who had fed thousands in a wilderness with a few loaves and fishes, would fain have satisfied the cravings of appetite with a few unripe figs.

2. Leafage without fruitage, or all leaf and no fruit. The district through which our Lord passed on his way, as he went from Bethany to Jerusalem, was a fig region. A village by the way had its name from this very circumstance; that village was Bethphage, which, as we have already seen, means "house of figs." Journeying through this district, he would, as might be expected, see many fig trees. His eye, however, rested on one at some distance. From St. Matthew's special mention of this one fig tree we conclude that there must have been something peculiar in its appearance. Our Lord singled it out from all or any in the district. It was rich in leaves, and so, full of promise. We must have in recollection the well-known fact in reference to the fig tree, that it puts forth its fruit before its leaves. The leaves of the fig tree, when they appeared, warranted the expectation of the figs. The leaves of this tree, visible to a distance, must have been large and numerous, and thus they held out the hope of abundant figs. The leafy honors of the tree bespoke its abundant fruitfulness. On the other hand, we are informed that "the time of figs was not yet," by which some

(1) understand that the fig harvest had not yet come - the time of gathering the figs had not yet arrived. According to this understanding, in which Wakefield, Wetstein, Newcome, Campbell, Bloomfield, and others coincide, while the leaves indicated the existence of figs on the tree, the season of the year intimated with equal certainty that they had not been gathered off the tree; whatever fruit, therefore, the tree had, it retained. Figs there should have been, and if the tree had been true to its promise, figs there would have been. Figs there should have been still on the tree, for they had had time to grow, but not yet time to be gathered. There was every reason to expect figs on that fig tree, still green they might be, still immature, and not yet fully ripened. And yet this forwardness of the foliage implied the forwardness of its fruit. The advanced state of the one naturally induced the hope of a proportionately advanced state in the other. But not so. Our Lord approaches this goodly tree, but no fruit is there - not one fig among all its branches, not one fig among all its leaves. We must notice another explanation of the supposed difficulty in the words "for the time of figs was not [yet]." We put aside at once such attempted explanations as that of Heinsius, who, by accenting and changing the breathing, read οῦ instead of οὐ the negative, and rendered accordingly, "for where he was, it was the season of figs," that is, fruits ripened in Judaea considerably earlier than in the less mild climate of Galilee; also the still more forced interpretation of those who read the clause interrogatively, viz. "for was it not the time of figs?" and the no less objectionable explanation of καιρὸς in the sense of a favorable season, for in that case the season, not the tree, would have deserved the malediction; or in the signification of favorable weather, as Olshausen. All these, however ingenious they may appear, are evasive shifts and no more. But, discounting them, we find an interpretation other than that first given and simpler, which,

(2) understanding the reference to be to a precocious or premature foliation, takes the words in their plain and natural sense. It was not the time or season of figs - "denn es war nicht Feigenzet," as Fritzsche properly renders it; but this tree antedated the season by putting forth its leaves prematurely. The appearance of the leaves was unseasonably early; still, as their appearance implied the prior existence of fruit, the passer-by was thus invited to approach the tree, and induced to expect and hope for fruit. The show of leaves, though not the season of the year, favored this expectation; accordingly he came, if therefore (ἄρα), as it was reasonable to expect from the tree having leaves, he shall find anything in it (ἐν αὐτῇ) within the compass of this umbrageous tree, among its leaves and branches. But though he came (ἐπ αὐτὴν) close upon it, right up to it, yet, notwithstanding his nearness to it, and the narrowness with which he inspected it, he found nothing but leaves.

3. Symbol of profession without performance. According to either of the explanations above given, either

(1) or

(2), especially perhaps the latter, that large fig tree, with its fine foliage and luxuriant leaves, occupying, as it did, a prominent position near the wayside, and visible far off by reason of its grand proportions and magnificent appearance, was nothing better than a huge practical lie, an embodied falsehood, a palpable untruth. That tree made a promise, but it broke it; it held out a hope, but it disappointed it; it professed much, but performed nothing. Never was there a more striking symbol of any people than that fig tree was of the Jews. They had enjoyed covenant promises and covenant privileges and covenant hopes, and their professions corresponded therewith. These were their leaves, but they had no real fruitfulness. They occupied a high and prominent position; theirs were a very fruitful hillside - the horn of the son of oil - an exceedingly fertile soil, glorious fostering sunshine, and rich refreshing dews; "they were Israelites; to whom pertained the adoption, and the glory, and the covenants, and the giving of the Law, and the service of God, and the promises;" but they proved themselves unworthy, shamefully unworthy, of these favors. They had commandments and ordinances; they made loud professions and long prayers; they were strict in certain religious observances, and scrupulous in their ritual. In some things they went beyond the letter of the Law, for they tithed rue and anise and cummin; but, in matters of much greater magnitude and really enjoined by the Law, they fell short, and were in fact woefully deficient. God "looked for judgment, but behold oppression; for righteousness, but behold a cry." They called themselves children of Abraham, but they had none of that precious faith that so distinguished Abraham. They were proud of Moses, their great lawgiver, but they attended not to the Prophet to whom Moses pointed as greater than himself, and to whom he commanded them to hearken. They professed themselves expectants of Messiah, but when he came to them they received him not. They were no better than the dark world around - "a world that knew not when he came, even God's eternal Son." We need not trace further the application of this symbolic fig tree to the Jews; let us see its application to Gentiles also.

4. Adumbrative of Gentile as well as Jew. There may be the leaves of profession without any corresponding fruitfulness in the case of Gentiles as well as of Jews. This symbolic fig tree may have a personal application to ourselves. We may profess Christ to please men, to keep up appearances, to maintain a respectable position, or advance in some way our worldly prospects. We may rest in a mere form; we may have a form of Godliness without the power; we may have a name to live, and yet be spiritually dead; we may be content with the outward visible sign, and care nothing for the inward spiritual grace. This was the complaint of God against his professing people in the days of Ezekiel. "They come unto thee as the people cometh, and they sit before thee as my people, and they hear thy words, but they will not do them: for with their mouth they show much love, but their heart goeth after their covetousness. And, lo, thou art unto them as a very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an instrument: for they hear thy words, but they do them not." Here is the too common defect of profession without practice, naming the name of Christ and not departing from iniquity. Others, again, it is to be feared, are downrightly insincere; they put religion on like a cloak, and lay it aside when it suits them; like their Sunday clothes, they wear it on the sabbath, but lay it past throughout the week. They impose on their fellow-men, they trifle with the Almighty, and deceive their own souls.

5. The Savior's dissatisfaction with barren professors. Many a time Christ comes to professors, and when he finds no fruit, no figs, no real goodness, nothing but leaves, oh, how he is disappointed! Many a time he is wounded in the house of his friends; many a time he has reason to be indignant with the false professor; many a time religion is scandalized by the leaf of profession and the life of sin. We can conceive Christ coming to such professors and saying - Was it for this you trod my courts? for this you joined yourself to my people? for this you sat at my table? for this you took the cup of salvation in your hand? for this you avouched yourself to be the Lord's in solemn sacramental action?

6. His remonstrance. Besides the expression of just indignation, there is tender remonstrance on his part. That remonstrance may be supposed couched in some such terms as the following: - After all my care for you, and love to you, and provision for your salvation; after all my goodness and grace to your soul; after all my sufferings, both in life and death; after all my agony of soul and anguish of body; after the many precepts I have given you, the exhortations I have addressed to you, the warnings I have sent you; after all the checks of conscience, and after all the strivings of my Spirit, is this the return you make me? Have you so soon forgotten your covenant engagements; so soon forgotten all your vows; so soon belied the profession you made, saying by act, if not by word, "O Lord, I am thy servant: thou hast loosed my bends"? Have you so soon and so sadly violated your pledged allegiance expressed in the words, "I am not my own; I am bought with a price; and bound therefore to serve the Lord with body and spirit, which are the Lord's"? God forbid that this should be the case with any of us! May better things be hoped, and reasonably hoped, of us all, and "things that accompany salvation"! Let our motto be, "Now being made free from sin, and become servants of God, we have our fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life." Let our conduct be in accordance with the statement, "I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?" Let our meditation be on "whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report;" and "if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise," let us "think on these things."

III. DOOM PRONOUNCED ON THE FIG TREE.

1. He stereotypes its state. Christ does not make this fig tree barren, he only stereotypes its barrenness; he found it in that state, and, as far as its condition of barrenness was concerned, he left it pretty much as he found it. It bare no fruit before, it should bear no fruit afterwards, and so no fruit for ever. As far, however, as his own action was concerned, he did more; for he withered its leaves, he scathed its trunk, he blighted it both root and branch. It was cursed, and so devoted to barrenness; it was dried up from the roots, and so inevitably destined to decay; it was completely withered, and so doomed to entire destruction. To the present hour the Jew has an unmistakable resemblance to this symbolic fig tree. Nationally, he is barked and peeled; he is a tree of which the branches are withered; he is one of a nation on which the blight of Heaven rests; the curse has come upon them to the uttermost. He has neither Church, as in days of old, nor State, nor proper nationality. He has neither temple, nor priest, nor sacrifice. He is still doomed to the "wandering foot and weary breast" - one of a people resembling this withered fig tree to which the curse of Heaven clings.

2. Applicability of the symbol to our own case. What is the conclusion from all this, and what is its connection with ourselves? Just that of which the apostle, in writing to the Romans (Romans 11:21, 22) speaks: "For if God spared not the natural branches, take heed lest he also spare not thee. Behold therefore the goodness and severity of God: on them which fell, severity; but toward thee, goodness, if thou continue in his goodness: otherwise thou also shalt be cut off."

3. Responsibility pertaining to the Church of God. It is no light matter to have the Church of God in our midst, its ordinances dispensed to us, its sacraments enjoyed by us, its doctrines proclaimed to us, its duties declared to us. What weighty responsibilities does all this impose? "Unto whomsoever much is given, of them shall much be required." What a blessing, if we improve these privileges, and know the time of our merciful visitation! What a millstone weight of condemnation is hung about our neck, when, in the full enjoyment of ordinances, we prove ourselves at once unfaithful and ungrateful? We see here what Christ expects of us, and what he has every right to expect. He sees on us the leaves of profession; he requires the living power of religion in our souls. He beholds the leaves of confession; he demands correspondence of character, conduct, and conversation. He has heard your proclamation with the lips to the effect, "Henceforth shall the Lord be my God;" he looks, therefore, for piety of heart and purity of life. He observes with you the show of Godliness; he will not be satisfied unless you diffuse the savor of it all around. Truth binds you to this; you have sworn, and must not go back; you have vowed, and must fulfill your vow; you have avouched the Lord to be your God, and the covenant entered into may not be broken, except at terrible risk. Gratitude binds to this. What shall we render unto the Lord for all his gracious benefits and gifts to us?

"Love so amazing, so Divine,
Demands my heart, my life, my all." Consistency binds to this. What can be thought of any one who enters into the most solemn engagements and then practically repudiates them? Our welfare, both for time and eternity, binds to this; for "blessed is every one that feareth the Lord; that walketh in his ways. For thou shalt eat the labor of thine hands: happy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with thee."

IV. APPLICATION OF THE WHOLE.

1. Think for a moment of the awful doom of this withered fig tree. It is the doom of every hypocrite and of every false professor. The first blessing pronounced on man was fruitfulness; one of the severest curses is barrenness. The leaf of the merely nominal Christian will soon wither; it will soon decay and die. There is no root, and so even the leaf of profession will not last long; no faith, and so no fruitfulness; no principle, and so no practical Godliness. The sparks of his own kindling make but a flickering light at best; and that light, bad as it is, soon goes out altogether in utter darkness. "The wicked is driven away in his wickedness, but the righteous hath hope in his death."

2. As it fared with the Jews, so will it fare with every individual who abuses God's mercies by continued unfruitfulness. God's ancient people has been unchurched, and, if we may so say, unpeopled; and if this was done in a green tree, what shall not be done in a dry? The seven Churches of Asia had been unfaithful, and the candlestick was removed out of its place. So with the African Churches - Alexandria, Hippo, and Carthage.

3. God looks for fruit, and claims it as his due. The more fruitful you are, the more is he glorified. "Herein," said the Savior, "is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit;" the more, also, is your own soul benefited and blessed. Often, when men become unfruitful, and prove false to their vows, neglecting God's ordinances, and abusing his mercies, he gives them over to judicial blindness of mind, hardness of heart, sacredness of conscience, or to strong delusion, or to a famine not of bread but of bearing the Word of the Lord. Sickness, or age, or poverty, or removal of their habitation, deprives them of the once possessed, but little esteemed and much abused, mercies. So with Ephraim; he is "joined to his idols: let him alone."

4. During our walks in summer or early autumn we used to see a tree withered and decayed; its leaves were gone, its bark peeled off, and its branches quite bare. Near to it on every side were trees green and leafy, healthy and vigorous, beautiful and flourishing. How ghastly looked that naked skeleton tree beside them! We often said as we passed it by - What a true type of a barren professor, "twice dead, plucked up by the roots"!

5. From this miracle our Lord took occasion to speak of the wonders which faith works, and to urge the necessity of faith to the success of prayer. - J.J.G.

Regarding the Church as an institution, with its possessions, its laws, its days of worship, its rulers, its teachers, its outward services, we may find for ourselves a lesson in this incident. And that lesson is, that the spiritual character of the Church is everything, and that its first object is to deepen in men's hearts the sense of the Divine and the spiritual. When that great end is lost sight of, the Church has parted with her strongest claims upon the world, and it has forfeited also its privilege as a witness for God on the earth. The spiritual influence is the first and chief purpose of the Church of Christ. The lesson of this narrative comes home to us in these days, when so much time and thought are given to the outer framework of Church forms and usages; and that lesson may be needed to correct our spirit of bustling and restless energy in what is at the best only the machinery of spiritual life, and not spiritual life itself. There is no class of men who are more in danger of losing the true meaning of religion than those who are employed in its service. If I were to seek for cases in which spiritual truth had been travestied and turned to not only secular but profane purposes, I do not know that I could find them more readily than in men to whom all sacred words and acts have grown so familiar that they have ceased to express spiritual facts at all. Those who are always engaged in religious works are apt to lose the sense of their sacredness. No man more needs to be on his guard against an unspiritual life than the man who is perpetually employed in spiritual offices. He brings within the courts of God's house what ought to be left without; he forgets his high spiritual functions in the bustle and care which attend them; and it is really no absolute guarantee of a religious and spiritual life that a man's profession is the teaching of religion. Christ's words and acts read us all a lesson, then; they tell us that in the most sacred occupations of life there may be found cares and anxieties which are less religious, and which are apt to swallow up too much of a man's time and thoughts. There is another temple of a different kind, of which a word may be said. The whole Christian body is, in the words of the New Testament, a temple of God. There is a sacredness in that temple, the spiritual community of Christians, if we would only think of it, much greater than in the Temple of Jerusalem, or in any building devoted to holy uses. And just as the whole Christian community is a temple sacred to God, so each individual heart is in itself a temple where God Most High is honoured and worshipped.

(A. Watson, D. D.)

1. Abuses are apt to creep into the Church. Let us be on our guard against their first introduction.

2. The Church is much indebted, under God, to those who have had the courage to stand forward as real reformers. Hezekiah; Josiah; the English reformers. They are indeed the benefactors of the Church who successfully exert themselves to correct doctrinal and practical errors, and to promote the scriptural administration of ordinances, discipline, and government. Thus, the progress of corruption is arrested, the beauty of Christianity is restored, and the glory of God, and the religious, and even civil, interests of men are promoted.

3. It is the duty of us all, according to our several places and stations, to do what we can to reform whatever abuses may exist in the Church in our own times.

4. Let this purification of the temple lead us to seek the purification of our own hearts.

5. In all we attempt for the benefit of others, or of ourselves, let us imitate the zeal which our Master displayed on this occasion. To be useful to man, or acceptable to God, we must be deeply in earnest — we must have the Spirit of Christ in this respect. Neither fear, nor shame, nor sinful inclination should restrain us in such cases.

(James Foote, M. A.)

In contemplating this action we are at first sight startled by its peremptoriness. "Is this," we say to ourselves — "is this He who is called the Lamb of God? He of whom prophecy said that He should neither strive nor cry; He who said of Himself, "Come to Me; I am meek and lowly of heart"? Is there not some incongruity between that meek and gentle character and those vehement acts and words. No, my brethren, there is no incongruity. As the anger which is divorced from meekness is but unsanctified passion, so the false meekness which can never kindle at the sight of wrong into indignation, is closely allied, depend upon it, to moral collapse. One of the worst things that the inspired Psalmist can find it in his heart to say of a man is, "Neither doth he abhor anything that is evil." Bishop Butler has shown that anger, being a part of our natural constitution is intended by our Maker to be excited, to be exercised upon certain legitimate objects; and the reason why anger is as a matter of fact generally sinful is, because it is generally wielded, not by our sense of absolute right and truth, but by our self-love, and, therefore, on wrong and needless occasions. Our Lord's swift indignation was just as much a part of His perfect sanctity as was His silent meekness in the hour of His passion. We may dare to say it, that He could not, being Himself, have been silent m that temple court, for that which met His eye was an offence first against the eighth commandment of the Decalogue. The money brokers were habitually fraudulent. But then this does not explain His treatment of the sellers of the doves, which shows that He saw in the whole transaction an offence against the first and second commandments. All irreverence is really, when we get to the bottom of it, unbelief. The first great truth that we know is the solitary supremacy of the Eternal God; the second, which is its consequence, the exacting character of His love. God is said, in the second commandment, to be a "jealous God."

(Canon Liddon.)

What He might have done! He might have said, "Well, this temple will one day, and that day not far distant, be thrown down. I shall not interfere with this abuse now, because in the natural order of things it will be overturned along with this structure." Jesus Christ did not know what it was to trifle so. I don't know that Jesus Christ knew the meaning of the word expediency, as we sometimes prostitute it. He saw wrong. If that wrong would in five minutes work itself out, that was no consideration to Him. Meanwhile, to Him five minutes was eternity!

(J. Parker, D. D.)

I shall endeavour to call your attention to one or two of the most marked features. And in the first place, I would bid you notice our blessed Lord's zeal, that zeal of which the Psalmist said, speaking prophetically, "the zeal of Thine house hath even eaten me" (Psalm 69:9).

2. But again, the conduct of our Lord shows us the reverence that is due to God's house. The Jewish temple was emphatically a "house of prayer," it was a place where God had promised His special presence to those who came to worship. And there are some things which, like oxen and sheep, are things not clean enough to be brought into the temple of God; all evil feelings, and pride, and unkindness, and envy, and self-conceit, and other wicked emotions may not be brought into God's temple; they must be driven out with scourges, they must not be tolerated. Then also there are some things which, like the doves, though pure in themselves, have no business in the temple of God; the cares of this world, things necessarily engaging our attention at other times, may not enter these doors: God's church is intended to be as it were a little enclosed spot where worldly things may not enter. But again, the tables of moneychangers must not be here; this is no place for thoughts of gain, it is a profanation of God's temple to bring them here. And, lastly, Christian brethren, we cannot but be reminded, by our Lord's cleansing of the temple in the days of His flesh, of that awful cleansing of His temple which will one day take place, when all that is vile and offensive shall be cast out of His temple, and everything that maketh a lie cast into the lake of brimstone.

(H. Goodwin, M. A.)

I. Our first inquiry is — WHAT IS OUR LORD'S VIEW AS TO THE PURPOSE AND END WHICH HE DESIGNS HIS EARTHLY TEMPLES TO SERVE? And this is the answer — "My house is the house of prayer." He calls us here to pray. The work to which He sets us in the sanctuary is mainly devotional.

1. As first, that common or united prayer is needful for man. Prayer itself is almost an instinct of nature. Man must worship. And he must worship in company; he must pray with others.

2. Another observation which the Divine idea in regard to the earthly sanctuary suggests is, that common or united prayer is acceptable to God.

3. Common or united prayer is efficacious to obtain Divine gifts. Otherwise, God would not assign to it so foremost a position in the worship of the sanctuary.

II. MAN'S DEPARTURE FROM THIS DIVINE IDEA ABOUT THE HOUSE OF GOD ON EARTH. "Ye have made it a den of thieves." There is man's perversion of God's design. You know, of course, what the particular sin was which these words of our Lord were intended to reprove. It was the appropriation on the part of these Jews of a portion of the temple enclosure to purposes of worldly barter. This was the way in which the Jewish people lost sight of the Divine idea in regard to their temple. And though it is not possible for men now to commit precisely the same offence, I fear it would not be difficult to trace a corresponding sin, even in the present altered condition of the church. It is possible now to desecrate sacred places and offices to purposes of worldly gain. It is possible to make a traffic of spiritual functions and emoluments. But, my friends, these are not the only things in which a departure from God's idea about His sanctuary may be marked now. There are others, of another complexion and character, it is true, but not the less to be reprehended. It is to these that I would more especially call your attention.

1. Let me say, then, that some pervert God's idea by making the house of prayer a house of preaching. With them the sermon is almost everything. They are impatient of all else to get to that. Prayers, and lessons, and psalms, and creeds, are all just to be endured as a sort of preliminary to that.

2. I remark again, that some depart from God's intention with respect to the sanctuary by making the house of prayer "a house of mere Sunday resort." They must pass the day somewhere; they must get through it somehow, and so, as it is customary, and seemly, and respectable, they will go to church. They are as well there, they think, as anywhere else; but, alas! this is all.

3. I remark, in the next place, that some pervert this design by making the house of prayer "a house of formal service." Their service is no more than lip service.

(G. M. Merry.)

Nor are there wanting examples, in all succeeding ages, of the conscientious and religious regularity with which the faithful ever attended the public means of grace. Thus, for example, "Zacharias and Elizabeth walked in all the commandments and ordinances of the Lord blameless." The just and devout Simeon "waited for the consolation of Israel, and came by the Spirit into the temple of the Lord." These, so striking examples of such excellent men, and the uniform and continuous practice of the faithful in all ages, show that the public worship of God is an institution of Divine authority. That there is a God is the first suggestion of unassisted reason, and that God ought to be worshipped is the foundation and first principle of all religion. Accordingly, we have reason to believe, that public worship began with the beginning of the world, and that it has been continued and maintained in all countries and in all times, and under every form of religion that man has devised or God instituted. The ancient Jews for example, dedicated a seventh part of their time to the service and worship of God. We may also remark, that, from the earliest ages, not only particular times, but also particular places, were set apart and consecrated to these sacred services. In the darkest times of heathen idolatry, when there were "gods many, and lords many," magnificent temples were built, stately altars erected, costly sacrifices offered, solemn rites celebrated, and the elegant arts of painting and sculpture, poesy and music, were called into the service of dumb idols. In after times, when the children of Israel were in the wilderness, and had no fixed nor settled abode, the tabernacle was erected by God's special command, and richly endowed with sacred utensils and ornaments for His solemn worship.

I. PUBLIC WORSHIP IS CALCULATED TO DISPLAY THE GLORY OF GOD. As the court of an earthly monarch derives its dignity from the splendour and number of its attendants, so the church, "the court of the Lord," shows forth the majesty of the Most High by its multitudes of humble worshippers.

II. PUBLIC WORSHIP IS ALSO CALCULATED TO PROMOTE AND PERPETUATE THE PRACTICE OF PURE AND UNDEFILED RELIGION. Prayer kindles and keeps up the spirit of piety in the soul. And if the "house of prayer "be thus holy, how great should be the purity of those who frequent it? Here, again, let the royal Psalmist be our director, "Praise is comely for the upright."

(A. McEwen.)

"My house is the house of prayer." This is as true of that portion of the holy body which we call the Church visible or militant as it is of the rest. The object of the visible Church is not solely philanthropic, although the Church's duty is to do good unto all men, specially to them that are of the household of faith. It is not solely the moral perfection of its members, although the purification to Himself of a peculiar people zealous of good works was certainly a main object of its founder; still less is it the prosecution of inquiry or speculation, however interesting about God, because we already know all that we ever really shall know in this state about Him. We have on our lips and in our hearts the faith that was once delivered to the saints. This temple, visible and invisible, is thus organized by its Divine founder throughout earth and heaven to be a whole of ceaseless communion with God; and as its heavenly members never, never for one moment cease in their blessed work, so by prayers, broken though they be and interrupted — by prayers and intercessions, by thanksgiving and praise, private and public, mental and vocal, the holy Church throughout the world doth acknowledge Him who is the common centre of light and love to all its members, whether on this side the veil or beyond it. Into this temple also there sometimes intrudes that which moves the anger of the Son of Man, for this spiritual society has its place among men. It is in the world, although not of it, and it thus sometimes admits within its courts that which cannot bear the glance of the All-Holy. And especially is this apt to be the case when the Church of Christ has been for many ages bound up with the life and history of a great nation, and is, what we call in modern language, established — that is to say, recognized by the State, and secured in its property and position by legal enactments. I am far from denying that this state of things is or may be a very great blessing, that it secures to religion a prominence and a consideration among the people at large, which would else be wanting to it, that it visibly asserts before men the true place of God as the ruler and guide of national destiny; but it is also undeniable that such a state of things may bring with it danger from which less favoured churches escape. To be forewarned, let us trust, is to be forearmed; but whenever it happens to a great Church, or to its guiding minds, to think more of the secular side of its position than they think of the spiritual — more, it may be, of a seat in the Senate and of high social rank than of the work of God among the people; if, in order to save income and position in times of real or supposed peril, there is any willingness to barter away the safeguards of the faith, or to silence the pleadings of generosity and justice in deference to some uninstructed clamour, then be sure that, unless history is at fault as well as Scripture, we may listen for the footfalls of the Son of Man on the outer threshold of the temple, and we shall not long listen in vain. Churches are disestablished and disendowed to the eye of sense, through the action of political parties; to the eye of faith by His interference who ordereth all things both in heaven and in earth, and who rules at this moment on the same principles as those which of old led Him to cleanse His Father's temple in Jerusalem.

(Canon Liddon.)

"My house shall be called the house of prayer." Here is a law for the furniture and equipment; here is a definition of the object and purpose of a material Christian church. There are great differences, no doubt, between the Jewish Temple and a building dedicated to Christian worship; but over the portals of each there might be traced with equal propriety the words, "My house shall be called the house of prayer." No well-instructed, no really spiritual Christian thinks of his parish church mainly or chiefly as a place for hearing sermons. Sermons are of great service, especially when people are making their first acquaintance with practical Christianity, and they occupy so great a place in the Acts of the Apostles, because they were of necessity the instrument with which the first teachers of Christianity made their way among unconverted Jews and heathens. Nay, more, since amid the importunities of this world of sense and time the soul of man is constantly tending to close its eyes to the unseen, to the dangers which so on every side beset it, to the pre-eminent claims of its Redeemer and its God, sermons which repeat with unwearying earnestness the same solemn certainties about God and man, about the person, and work, and gifts of Christ, about life and death, about the fleeting present and the endless future, are a vital feature in the activity of every Christian Church, a means of calling the unbelieving and the careless to the foot of the cross, a means of strengthening and edifying the faithful. Still, if a comparison is to be instituted between prayers and sermons, there ought not to be a moment's doubt as to the decision; for it is not said, "My house shall be called a house of preaching," but "My house shall be called the house of prayer." Surely it is a much more responsible act, and, let me add, it is a much greater privilege, to speak to God, whether in prayer or praise, than to listen to what a fellow-sinner can tell you about Him; and when a great congregation is really joining in worship, when there is a deep spiritual, as it were an electric, current of sympathy traversing a vast multitude of souls as they make one combined advance to the foot of the eternal throne, then, if we could look at these things for a moment with angels' eyes, we should see something infinitely greater, according to all the rules of a true spiritual measurement, than the effect of the most eloquent and the most persuasive of sermons. "My house shall be called the house of prayer" is a maxim for all time, and if this be so, then all that meets the eye, all that falls upon the ear within the sacred walls, should be in harmony with this high intention, should be valued and used only with a view to promoting it. Architecture, painting, mural decoration, and the like, are only in place when they lift the soul upwards towards the invisible, when they conduct it swiftly and surely to the gate of the world of spirits, and then themselves retire from thought and from view. Music the most pathetic, the most suggestive, is only welcome in the temples of Christ, when it gives wings to spiritualized thought and feeling, when it promotes the ascent of the soul to God. If these beautiful arts detain men on their own account, to wonder at their own intrinsic charms, down among the things of sense; if we are thinking more of music than of Him whose glory it heralds, more of the beauty of form and colour than of Him whose Temple it adorns, then be sure we are robbing God of His glory, we are turning His Temple into a den of thieves. No error is without its element of truth, and jealousy on this point was the strength of Puritanism, which made it a power notwithstanding its violence, notwithstanding its falsehood. And as for purely secular conversations within these walls, how unworthy are they in view of our Redeemer's words! Time was, under the first two Stuarts, when the nave of the old St. Paul's was a rendezvous for business, for pleasure, for public gossiping, so that Evelyn the diarist, lamenting the deplorable state to which the great church was reduced, says that it was already named a den of thieves. Is it too much to say that the Redeemer was not long in punishing the desecration of His Temple? First there came the axes and hammers of the rebellion, and then there came the swift tongues of fire in 1660, and the finest cathedral that England ever saw went its way. Would that in better times we were less constantly unmindful of the truth that its successor is neither a museum of sculpture nor yet a concert-room, and that He whose house it is will not be robbed of His rights with permanent impunity.

(Canon Liddon.)

"My house shall be called the house of prayer." This is true of every regenerate soul. When it is in a state of grace the soul of man is a temple of the Divine presence. "If any man love Me, and will keep My words, My Father will love him, and we will come unto him and make our abode with him." Christ's throne within the soul enlightens the understanding, and kindles the affections, and braces the will, and while He thus from His presence-chamber in this His spiritual palace, issues His orders hour by hour to its thinking and acting powers, He receives in return the homage of faith and love, a sacrifice which they delight to present to Him. So it is with God's true servants, but alas! my brethren, if you and I compare notes, what shall we say? Even when we desire to pray we find ourselves in the outer court of the soul surrounded all at once with the tables of the money-changers, and with the seats of the men who sell the doves. Our business, with all its details, follows us in the churches, follows us into our private chambers, follows us everywhere into the presence of our God. Our preparations for religious service, the accidents of our service, occupy the attention which is due to the service itself. Sometimes, alas! we do not even try to make the very first steps towards real prayer, and steps which ordinary natural reverence would suggest; we lounge, we look about us, just as though nothing in the world were of less importance than to address the Infinite and Eternal God. But sometimes, alas! we do close the eyes, we do bend the knee, we try to put force upon the soul's powers and faculties, and to lead them forth one by one, and then collectively to the footstool of the King of kings; when, lo! they linger over this memory or that, they are burdened with this or that load of care, utterly foreign to the work in hand. They bend, it is true, in an awkward sort of way in the sacred presence beneath, not their sense of its majesty, not their sense of the love and the beauty of God, but the vast and incongruous weight of worldliness which prevents their realizing it. And when a soul is thus at its best moments fatally troubled and burdened about many things, God in His mercy bides His time; He cleanses the courts of a Temple which He has predestined to be His for ever, He cleanses it in His own time and way; He sends some sharp sorrow which sweeps from the soul all thoughts save one, the nothingness, the vanity of all that is here below; and so He forces that soul to turn by one mighty, all-comprehending act to Himself, who alone can satisfy it; or He lays a man upon a bed of sickness, leaving the mind with all its powers intact, but stripping from the body all the faculties of speech and motion, and then through the long, weary hours the man is turned in upon himself; and if there is any hope for him at all, if at that critical moment he is at all alive.to the tender pleadings of the All-merciful, he will with his own hands cleanse the temple; he sees the paltriness of the trifles that have kept him back from his chiefest, from his only good; he expels first one and then another unworthy intruder upon the sacred ground. The scourge is sharp, the resistance it may be persevering; the hours are long, and they are weary, but the work is done at last.

(Canon Liddon.)

When Walter Hook (afterwards Dean of Chichester) was Vicar of Coventry, he was once presiding at a vestry meeting which was so largely attended as to necessitate an adjournment to the church. Several persons kept their hats on. The vicar requested them to take them off, but they refused. "Very well, gentlemen," He replied, "but remember that in this house the insult is not done to me, but to your God." The hats were immediately taken off.