ISRAEL AS ILLUSTRATING THE PRINCIPLES OF DIVINE SERVICE.
(2a) Xenophon relates a conversation which Socrates had with Aristodemns the Little concerning the obligation of divine worship. Aristodemns was inclined to atheism, but by an argument which Socrates advanced in his usual, courteous, questioning manner, he succeeded in convincing him. Up to this part of the dispute the old philosopher had been perfect: his arguments in proof of a divine design, wisdom and beneficence have been the model of all such reasonings ever since; the embryo of Paley's famous illustration of the watch and Lord Brougham's of the crab's tentacle might be found in the remarks to Aristodemus about the human ear and eyelash. When, however, Aristodemus at last says, “I would have [the Deity] send on purpose to let me know expressly all that I ought to do or not to do,” the sage's reply shows us how lamentably in the dark on these subjects the human race was. For the greatest and most capacious mind of a nation of philosophers gives answers concerning portents and prodigies; and (subsequently to Euthydemus) he says approvingly that the Delphian oracle commands to “follow the custom of your country.”
It seems harsh and crude to say that a modern Sunday-school child knows much more of this subject than the ancient philosopher, yet it is quite true—as true as that the modern child knows very much more of geography and astronomy than Plato and Aristotle, who never suspected that the western hemisphere had continents, that Saturn had rings, or Jupiter moons; but of course all this is no matter of credit to the modern child or discredit to them. What was unknown to them has been disclosed to us, that is all. “If I can see more than others,” said Sir Isaac Newton, “it is because I am standing upon giants' shoulders,” meaning that his discoveries were based upon those of Copernicus and others who preceded him. And if we in the Christian era know more as to the service of God than those of former times, it is because we have been raised on giants' shoulders to see that which God has been pleased to reveal—primarily by means of the Hebrew system.
“ Do but consider,” continued Socrates on this subject, “that the sun, that seems to be exposed to the sight of all the word, does not suffer us to gaze fixedly upon him, and whoever has the temerity to undertake it is punished with sudden blindness.” This is only partially true whether of the type or of the antitype: the sun will sometimes, while still visible, veil himself sufficiently to be gazed on by all; “Lo, in the orient when the gracious Light Lifts up his burning head, each under eye Doth homage to his new-appearing sight, Serving with looks his sacred majesty...... Attending on his golden pilgrimage.” If Herschel sat to study the sun for twenty-five years, so may those whose telescopes reach into that heaven far beyond the stars contemplate forever the great Source of all light and life, with reverence and godly fear indeed, but with ever increasing love and adoration: ever to apprehend, never to comprehend. “When I have laved the sea dry,” said the boy to Augustine, “then thou shalt understand the Trinity.”
But it is true that this kind of contemplation has a powerful effect on the sight. Gazing long on the sun somewhat unfits the eye for the time for minute discernment of surrounding things. Sir Isaac Newton had looked so much on it that its image remained continually impressed on his sight, even, it is said, when in the darkness of night; and there seems to have been some similar persistency of vision on the spiritual retina of his namesake, the friend of Cowper— “I meditate on Thee in the night watches.” A recent biographer says that when John Newton was getting old he used sometimes to forget himself when preaching, and would turn to an old servant standing near him, saying, “What was I speaking of?” when the answer invariably was, “You were speaking of the Lord Jesus Christ, sir.”
Now that which Aristodenans and multitudes of others sought vainly to know, which even a Socrates could not disclose, has been revealed to man by means of the Hebrew system. God thus made known the principles on which and the methods by which He required that men should approach, worship, and serve Him. At that time they were only to stand “afar off,” it is true, and behold Him with the outward eye. When Christ, the true Israel, was appointed, He disclosed infinitely more; then men were “brought nigh” and beheld Him with the inward and spiritual vision,—in a sense in which He had never been seen before. But all the main elements relating to Approach, Worship, and Service, are here set forth in a system of symbol-teaching; this part of the Pentateuch being arranged as a Kindergarten for the world, in the childhood of the race. This system of instruction has been for three thousand years on the earth; therefore it would be strange indeed if we did not know more on such subjects than the ancient philosophers. How much mankind need the instruction, and how terribly misguided the most devout minds may be for the lack of it, we may see in the puerile superstitions, the gross cruelties and foul abominations of even such highly civilized peoples as the ancient Greeks and modern Chinese. How pitiful it is to read of that devout Phoongye who deliberately burnt himself to death the other day, to offer himself to God. If he had had some of our knowledge! and if we had some of his devotion!
The method in which this instruction is conveyed is by a vast and elaborate system of symbols in connection with the scheme of the tabernacle. These symbols are impressive by reason of a certain majestic dignity in their arrangement, which is most strange; for it must be admitted that symbols are in a sense toys, though useful ones; and it is not easy in general to keep the mind from a kind of levity in considering them. This, however, is chiefly a matter of association. For we may sometimes see a bereaved mother weeping as if her heart would break over a few little toys, which to her are as pitiful and pathetic as to others they are puerile and unmeaning. Symbolism had to be used, as Italian is used in music, because it is the only language universally understood (in connection with that subject); and, further, there are no other means—even now, much less in olden times—of conveying in human language many of the highest spiritual principles. Besides this, symbols attract the attention, impress the memory, and enlighten the understanding.