Forbidden Battlements
George H. Morrison
Jeremiah 5:10
That was an exceeding bitter cry to be uttered in the ear of Judah. It must have been a heartbreak to the prophet, that such a message was given him of God. Jerusalem was God's beloved city; in infinite mercy He had tended her. Through fair and foul, for many a weary year, God had upbuilt her into queenly beauty; and now when the sun had vanished from her sky, and the enemy was thundering at her gate, this was the message of God's prophet. Those battlements-they were the city's pride. They were the hope and comfort of the capital. Broad-based-firmset-with tower and bastion-they could defy assault and laugh at the invader. And then, uplifted through the city streets like the wail of a chill wind in winter, came the harsh reiterated cry, "Take away her battlements, for they are not the Lord's." It sounded like a very cruel cry. As a simple matter of fact, it was the opposite. Judah was staying herself upon securities that had no sanction in the will of heaven. And God commanded that they be swept away, not in hatred but in tender mercy that Judah might be brought to lean again upon the strength of the everlasting arm. That was the cry which went ringing through Jerusalem. That cry has gone ringing down the ages. You hear it in individual life and not less audibly in national and social life. And what I want to do tonight is this: I want to try to catch the echoes of it.
To begin with, I would think of the Bible, that volume to which our debt is infinite, that revelation of the love of God, crowned in the priceless gift of a Redeemer. It is the book whose words we learn in infancy; it is the book we turn to when we die. It is the book that comforts us in suffering, cheers us in struggles, heartens us in toil. It is the only book that never fails us amid all the change and challenge of the years, for it is higher than our highest thought, and it is deeper than our deepest need. In it we find the language of ...
George H. Morrison
Jeremiah 5:10
That was an exceeding bitter cry to be uttered in the ear of Judah. It must have been a heartbreak to the prophet, that such a message was given him of God. Jerusalem was God's beloved city; in infinite mercy He had tended her. Through fair and foul, for many a weary year, God had upbuilt her into queenly beauty; and now when the sun had vanished from her sky, and the enemy was thundering at her gate, this was the message of God's prophet. Those battlements-they were the city's pride. They were the hope and comfort of the capital. Broad-based-firmset-with tower and bastion-they could defy assault and laugh at the invader. And then, uplifted through the city streets like the wail of a chill wind in winter, came the harsh reiterated cry, "Take away her battlements, for they are not the Lord's." It sounded like a very cruel cry. As a simple matter of fact, it was the opposite. Judah was staying herself upon securities that had no sanction in the will of heaven. And God commanded that they be swept away, not in hatred but in tender mercy that Judah might be brought to lean again upon the strength of the everlasting arm. That was the cry which went ringing through Jerusalem. That cry has gone ringing down the ages. You hear it in individual life and not less audibly in national and social life. And what I want to do tonight is this: I want to try to catch the echoes of it.
To begin with, I would think of the Bible, that volume to which our debt is infinite, that revelation of the love of God, crowned in the priceless gift of a Redeemer. It is the book whose words we learn in infancy; it is the book we turn to when we die. It is the book that comforts us in suffering, cheers us in struggles, heartens us in toil. It is the only book that never fails us amid all the change and challenge of the years, for it is higher than our highest thought, and it is deeper than our deepest need. In it we find the language of ...
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