_ CHAPTER XXXIX. THE FEAST OF DEDICATION
Loud was the burst of joyous music from citherns, harps, and cymbals--Mount Zion rang with songs of gladness--when in the early morning the worshippers of the Lord of Hosts appeared in His Temple, to offer sacrifices of thanksgiving! The front of the building was decked with crowns of gold, and with shields; and, in the forcible language of the ancient historian, "thus was there very great gladness among the people, for that the reproach of the heathen was put away."
Then--emblem of thanksgivings from thousands of hearts--rose clouds of delicious fragrance from the altar of incense. Judas Maccabeus stood beside it--more pale and pensive, perhaps, than seemed to suit the occasion--watching the light curling smoke as it ascended and lost itself in the perfumed air. Presently the prince took something from his arm, and cast it into the flame. The movement was so quiet that it was noticed but by few by-standers; and none knew what that was which blazed brightly for a moment, and then left not even visible ashes behind. It was but a few threads of flax, which had bound up flowers long since withered; it seemed a worthless sacrifice indeed; but when, a few years later, Judas Maccabeus poured out his life's-blood on the fatal field of Eleasa, the steel which pierced his brave heart inflicted not on him so keen a pang.
And here will I close my story, leaving the hero of Judah a victor over his enemies, and a victor over himself. Let the picture left on the reader's mind be that of Jerusalem in the hour of her triumph and rejoicing--when the Lord had turned again the captivity of Zion, and her exulting citizens were like unto them that dream!
But, ere I lay down my pen, let me crave leave for a few moments to address my readers, both Christian and Hebrew. And to the first I would say: Think not of the record of the lives of Judah's heroes, and the deaths of her martyrs, as something in which we have no personal interest--merely to be admired, like the courage of the Greeks at Thermopylae, or the devotion of Regulus at Rome. Rather let us honour the children of Abraham who fought or died for the Covenant as our brethren in faith, heirs of all the promises on which we rest our hopes, as well as of some others peculiarly their own. Their Scriptures are our Scriptures--they guarded them at hazard of their lives; their Messiah is our Messiah, though He visited earth too late for them--as too early for us--to behold Him. Christianity rests on such Judaism as was held by Hebrew saints and martyrs; Christianity is in regard to the ancient religion as the capital to the column, the full-blown flower to the bud, as the cloud floating high above the sea is to the waters from which it drew its existence. Laws and rites which passed away when types had been accomplished and prophecies fulfilled, are as the salts which are necessary component parts of the sea but not of the cloud; when it rose on high it left them behind.
It is an interesting subject for thought to inquire whether, if Daniel's weeks had run out in the times of the Maccabees, and the Messenger of the Covenant had then come suddenly into His Temple, Christ would not have found adoring worshippers instead of fierce persecutors--a throne instead of a cross? Would He not then have been welcomed by the heroes of Emmaus and Bethsura, instead of being despised and rejected of men? Would he not, humanly speaking, have escaped the scourge, the nails, and the spear? But how then shall the Scriptures be fulfilled (Matt. xxvl. 54) that Christ should suffer these things? (Luke xxiv. 36). The Sacrifice must be slain, that the sinner may be pardoned and live.
And if--as I would fain hope--some Hebrews peruse these pages, how earnestly would I desire power to speak to their hearts! Countrymen and countrywomen of Maccabeus, ye whose fathers fought side by side with the Asmonean brothers, does the history of their deeds rouse none of their spirit of patriotism in your breasts? Can ye, amidst the cares and toils of this working-day world, be indifferent to the state of your own land, your own city--yours by divine right--yours by a deed of gift signed and sealed by God Himself! Is it no grief to you that the mosque stands on the site of your holy Temple; that--under a corrupt form of so-called Christianity--idolatry is practised at this day in the city of David?
Ye that make mention of the Lord keep not silence, and give Him no rest, till He establish, and till He make Jerusalem a praise in the earth! (Isa. lxii. 7, 8.)
If Gentile Christians are longing and praying for that time, shall not Hebrews long, pray, and strive to hasten its coming? Shall they not search their hearts and ask, "Wherefore is it so long delayed? Wherefore are the heathen still suffered to prevail; the followers of the false prophet to hold the holy city in subjection? For what transgression doth the Lord God of Israel still hide His face from His people; what hath brought upon them a judgment enduring so much longer than Egyptian bondage, or Babylonish captivity, or the tyranny of an Antiochus Epiphanes?" Seek for the answer to this momentous question in your own Scriptures; read them in the light thrown by your own history;--that history will in the future flash into greater brilliancy than even in the days of the Hebrew heroes; we Christians are assured of this, because we, like yourselves, believe those Scriptures, and know that God's Word is pledged for your restoration, and that
the Word of the Lord endureth for ever!
[THE END]
A.L.O.E.'s Book: Hebrew Heroes, A Tale Founded on Jewish History
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