THE RENEWING FIRE ON THE ALTAR

Leviticus 6:13 The fire shall ever be burning upon the altar; it shall never go out.

The fire shall ever be burning upon the altar.

Divine fire humanly maintained
I. Divine endowments committed to the control of men. As in the instances of that “fire,” supernaturally originated on that altar, and then left in man’s hands, so with—
1. Pure sympathies implanted within man.
2. Revelation in the Scriptures.
3. Quickened life in the regenerated soul.
4. Spiritual endowments to the believer.
5. Sacred affections in the Christian heart.
6. Holy enthusiasm firing an earnest nature. From God they come: but man has them in his hands.
II. Divine endowments entrusted to the preservation of men. The priests had to keep that “fire” alive, or it would expire.
1. Having received the gifts of God we are responsible for their maintenance.
2. How solemn the priestly office, which all are called to perform: feeding the Divine “fire” in our souls continually!
III. Divine endowments requiring the co-operative watchfulness of men. The priest’s eye would need to be often turned to the altar fire: “every morning” it needed care.
1. A watchful life is imperative if we would maintain godliness within.
2. Neglect will allow the extinction of the Divinest gift. Only neglect—
(1) daily prayer;
(2) daily reading of the Scriptures;
(3) daily fellowship with Christ;
(4) daily watching against temptation. Fail in these duties, and the “fire” will expire. “Every morning” bring wood to the fire!
IV. Divine endowments enduring only where actively maintained. That fire did expire! At the destruction of the Temple by Nebuchadnezzar.
1. May the Divine life m a soul go out?
2. May the Christian’s “first love” become extinct?
3. May the holy aspirations of a child of God droop?
4. May all sacred ardour, in prayer, in consecration, die away?
“Work out your salvation with fear and trembling.” “See that ye make your calling and election sure.” (W. H. Jellie.)


The fire upon the altar
“The fire shall ever be burning.” I take the words as typical of our common life, and its common duties and opportunities. It is only a shallow mind that can think without being awed of the privilege or the responsibility which belongs to us as custodians of a light that may be dimned or desecrated in our keeping, but cannot die; so much stronger is it and more enduring than ourselves. Yet the words suggest, too, that if our life be as the fire, it must be as the fire in its intensity and purity. It is not worth having if it is dull and cold and heartless, if it is not enkindled with zeal and generosity.
I. The fire of enthusiasm. It was said of Sir Walter Raleigh, “He can toil terribly”; and I think, if the great souls of the past could speak to you in tones that would command your interest, they would say that whatever good they did upon earth was achieved at the cost of strong resolve and strenuous effort.
II. The fire of indignation. It is not enough, right as it is, to love what is good. We must hate, we must spurn the evil. The wicked are always a discredited minority; and if the good had only the courage of their opinions, the wicked would never have the courage of theirs.
III. The fire of personal sanctity. The flame which consumes the dross of the world must itself be bright and beautiful. It must be “a burning and a shining light.” Yes, and it must be “ever burning”; it must “never go out.” It was the law of the Vestal Virgins in old time that night and day they should watch with sleepless care the everlasting fire upon the altar of the goddess. No calamity that could happen to the State was so terrible as if through their fault that fire should become extinct. But there was one essential condition of their watching: they must themselves be chaste; should any one of them break the Divine law of chastity, it was death for her and for him who made her break it. And oh! let us resolve that “the fire shall ever be burning upon the altar” of this school, which is so dear to us. Let it be bright, fierce, and lambent. Let it burn away the selfishness which lies at the heart of so many an one who knows it not. (J. E. C. Welldon, M. A.)


Habitual piety
I. Piety must be habitual to prove that it is real.
1. Whatever is chief in the heart will be ever showing itself in the life.
2. We shall thus surely and thus only verify and carry out the Scripture descriptions of godliness.
II. Piety must be habitual in order to be progressive.
1. The attainment of holy character is by degrees.
2. These advances can only be attained by constant well-doing.
III. Piety must be habitual in order to be useful.
1. If there be inconsistency or fitfulness, a painful sense of insincerity will he felt by those to whom the truth may be addressed.
2. With habitual piety, how much greater weight, pathos, and earnestness will there be.
3. An unconscious yet speaking power is in such godliness.
IV. Habitual piety gives dignity and elevation to the whole of life. It was a noble testimony that the son of J. A. James bore of his father: “I never found in him anything inconsistent or unworthy.” What a wreath to lay on that honoured tomb! Conclusion: See to it that the fire be ever burning. What Christian workers should we have then-lips touched with a live coal, because the heart is glowing with the sacred flame. What Churches should we have then—not formal and languishing, but strong in godliness and increasing in numbers. What households should we have then-where the younger members would prove their appreciation of devout sincerity and the attractiveness of lofty example. Individual influence would be benign as that of the Australian tree which destroys infection, and breathes health around; and the whole spiritual scene would be beautiful and fragrant, as “a field that the Lord hath blessed.” Cherish the sacred fire, if it is within. As the Parsees with the precious sandalwood keep alive the ever-burning flame in their temples, so with precious passages of Divine truth and prayer seek to keep alive and vigorous the name of love. (G. McMichael, B. A.)


The altar fire a symbol of regenerating grace
1. In its source or origin.
2. In its tendency.
3. In its nature and properties.
4. In its permanency.
5. In its perpetuity.
Lesson: Be diligent in the use of the means of grace—
1. Prayer: secret, family, social.
2. Study of Bible.
3. Meditation.
4. Attendance on the ordinances. (G. F. Love.)


Fuel for heart flames
“I’ll master it,” said the axe, and the blows fell heavily on the iron; but every blow made his edge more blunt, till he ceased to strike. “Leave it to me,” said the saw, and with relentless teeth he worked backward and forward on its surface until they were all worn down or broken; then he fell aside. “Ha! ha!” said the hammer, “I knew you would not succeed; I’ll show you the way.” But at his first stroke off flew his head, and the iron remained as before. “Shall I try?” said a flame of fire. They all despised the flame, but he curled gently round the solid bar, and embraced it, and never left it, until, under his irresistible influence, it was so melted as to take the form of any mould you please. If hard hearts are to be won for Jesus, they must be melted, not hammered. No power has been found so effective as love for taking self-trust and self-righteousness out of men.
I. Let us seek to fan the flame. Of the Baptist our Lord said, “he was a burning and a shining light.” Blessed eulogy! may it be earned by each one of us. “Burning and shining”—our very ideal of a minister; a hot heart with a clear head; impetuosity and prudence blended; zeal and knowledge linked in holy wedlock. The motto on David Brainerd’s banner, and the prayer in his heart, ever was, “Oh, that I were a flaming fire in the service of my God.” We have as our model Him who could say, “The zeal of Thine house hath eaten Me up”; and while we profess to be His followers, we dare not rest satisfied with the “icy torpor” and “decorous coldness” which are, alas! the usual temperature of too many professors. We do not wish to be for ever praying for the smouldering embers to be blown into a flame, for we covet a steady furnace heat, and no mere fitful zeal, which, like the fire from the horse’s hoof, dies in the moment of its birth. Most of us know the sad experience of preaching with the fire burning only amid grey ashes. We cannot expect much blessing while this is the case. If the gospel is to have a mighty effect upon the congregation, it must pass through the fire of an intense spiritual life in the preacher; and this life we feel we must have. And what a boon will it be to us also! What purifying force there is in consuming zeal and passionate love of souls I How it burns up all unworthy and selfish motives! This holy fire has also an educating force; by it the soul is transfigured, and made to enjoy a grand outlook. It awakens the intellect as nothing else can; it quickens the sensibilities of inferior minds, and makes them capable of achievements which, without it, they would never have dreamed of. John Howard had no commanding intellect, but what he had was illuminated with Divine light, and thus his name became immortal. Thomas Chalmers had always an intellect so commanding as to grasp a planet in its span; but it needed the grace of God to so illuminate the mind of Chalmers that he could write his astronomical discourses, and grasp, not a planet merely, but myriads of worlds as a boy handles his marbles, and move “like a strong swimmer in a stormy sea.” Divine fire in the soul kindles a light in the intellect, elevates every natural faculty, and makes it a handmaid to the Spirit of God; it burns every bond that Lies the tongue, and makes men orators who else were dumb. This, too, will give us the most attractive characters. It is said that the slopes of a volcano supply soil so fruitful that the richest vines flourish best upon them; when the heart is full of holy fire the life is sure to be adorned with the rich graces of the Spirit, productive of that fruit which glorifies our Father in heaven. And yet to have the heart throb with a might pulse of love—to have a holy passion thrilling and burning in every artery and vein will, in all probability, involve much trial. Every cherished idol of the heart must submit to the action of this fire. It will consume all that is consumable. Upon sin in the soul it will have no mercy. It will probably involve, too, the scorn of some whose friendship we fain would cultivate.
II. Let us now gather a few materials to feed it. Scientific men are asking, “What is to be the fuel for coming ages?” “What will our great-great-great-grandchildren sit around instead of our household fire?” One authority suggests as a source of heat, when coal is exhausted, the beating of the tidal wave on the shore. Happily the Christian Church need not trouble herself with any conjectures as to the fuel which is to feed her fires. The light and love invested in the covenant of graces ages back will never be exhausted until every elect soul glows with love to God, and every redeemed wanderer is lighted back to his Father’s home. Does not even Nature speak to us upon this mailer of earnestness in our Master’s work? The sun is earnest: in his path he never lingers, in his course he never halts: the stars never falter in their race, never swerve from their round; the Sea is constant in its ebb and flow, unchanging in eternal change. All Nature says, “The King’s business requires haste”; and the man who is not in earnest when about “the King’s business” is out of gear with the universe, and is a blot in the creation of God. Our age speaks to us, we live in the cumulated light of succeeding ages. Our age, too, is telling upon ages yet to be—nay, upon eternity itself. Is there not inspiration, too, in the memory of our early vows? If we would be full of Divine energy, let us labour after a strong sense of the love of God in Christ. All the love of eternity meets here as in a focus, and if we only seek full and deep communion with it our lives will not lack the holy fire. There is one other thought which ought ever to arouse our spirits and inspire our hearts with zeal and courage in our holy warfare. We are on the winning side. Victory is surely ours. (W. Williams.)


The fire upon the altar
The term “fire” in Scripture language is commonly employed to express the judgment, f God upon sin (Heb_12:29; Psa_1:2; 2Th_1:1-12., &c.); and accordingly, when the Jewish worshipper (the veil being off his heart) contemplated the altar’s heaven-kindled flame, and bore in mind the Divine edict for its preservation, he was given to understand that the judgment of God was held in abeyance, that the Divine arrangements for turning aside that judgment from the contrite sinner though revealed to hope, were not consummated in fact, and, that as the fire, day by day, swallowed victim after victim, and burned still as fierce as ever, that victim had not yet been laid thereon whose blood should quench in mercy the fire maintained in justice. Well—“God is the Lord who hath showed us light; bind the sacrifice with cords, even to the horns of the altar”—the victim has been found and accepted; “He was led as a sheep to the slaughter”; His blood is “shed for many for the remission of sins,” and the fire is gone out—God Himself hath “put it out”: “for by one offering He hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified,” and, “through the offering of the body of Christ once for all,” mercy and truth, righteousness and peace have met together, and like the wings of the mystic cherubim, they shadow the mercy-seat of God—the throne of Divine grace. Well, the fire is “gone out”—God Himself hath “put it out,” but in so doing He hath kindled another. Accordingly, when the fire of Divine justice died away in the offering up of Christ, the flame of Divine love shot upwards upon the altar-hearts of the Lord’s redeemed; it was and is kindled from above, for love begets love, and “we love Him because He first loved us.” This is the heavenly fire which kindles upon the altar of the heart, the sacrifice of the affections; it is the fruit of satisfied justice; it is the movement of Divine mercy, besprinkling the soul with the all-awakening, all-cleansing blood of Jesus, producing a responsive movement of the soul to God, by the drawings of the Spirit of grace, and lighting up a flame in its Divinely occupied recesses, not to be extinguished by the deepest waters of trial. “It shall never go out.”
1. In time of trial and affliction it shall not go out; for “in the time of trouble He shall hide me in His pavilion: in the secret of His Tabernacle shall He hide me.”
2. In seasons of spiritual depression it shall not go out; “O my God, my soul is cast down within me,” &c.
3. In the hour of temptation it shall not go out; “for God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that you are able; but will, with the temptation, also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it.”
4. When life, too, is waning, and the night of death is setting in, and the blighting chill is paralysing the frame as it enters the deep and dark river, it shall not go out; for “love is strong as death”; and “many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it.” (H. Hardy, M. A.)


The continual burnt-offering
This ordinance reminds us that Christ, as our Burnt-offering, continually offers Himself to God in self-consecration in our behalf. Very significant it is that the burnt-offering stands in contrast in this respect with the sin-offering. We never read of a continual sin-offering; even the great annual sin-offering of the Day of Atonement, which, like the daily burnt-offering, had reference to the nation at large, was soon finished, and once for all. And it was so with reason; for in the nature of the case, our Lord’s offering of Himself for sin as an expiatory sacrifice was not and could not be a continuous act. But with His presentation of Himself unto God in full consecration of His person as our Burnt-offering it is different. Throughout the days of His humiliation, this self-offering of Himself to God continued; nor, indeed, can we say it has yet ceased, or ever can cease. For still, as the High Priest of the heavenly Sanctuary, He continually offers Himself as our Burnt-offering in constantly renewed and constantly continued devotement of Himself to the Father to do His will. (S. H. Kellogg, D. D.)


The continual burning
Suppose the sin should cease, would the fire then be put out? Certainly not. The fire has a double significance; it is not there only to consume the sacrifice, it is there to express the continual aspiration of the soul. The fire still burns. There is an unquenchable fire in heaven. Aspiration is the highest expression of character. That is the permanent quantity in the text. Fire ascends; it speechlessly says, “This is not my home; I must travel, I must fly, I must return; the sun calls me, and I must obey.” A character without aspiration cannot live healthily and exercise a vital and ennobling influence. When religion becomes mere controversy, it has lost veneration; and whatever or whoever loses veneration slips away from the centre of things, and falls evermore into thickening darkness. There is a philosophy in this conception as well as a theology. To aspire is to grow. “The fire shall ever be burning upon the altar; it shall never go out.” Then there are two things in the text—“fire” and “altar.” We may have an altar, but no fire. That is the deadly possibility; that is the fatal reality. The world is not dying for want of a creed, but for want of faith. We are not in need of more prayers, we are in need of more prayerfulness. If the little knowledge we have—how small it is the wisest men know best of all—were turned to right use, fire in its happiest influences would soon begin to be detected by surrounding neighbours and by unknown observers. Of what avail is it that we have filled the grate with fuel if we have not applied the flame? Does the unlighted fuel warm the chamber? No more does the unsanctified knowledge help to redeem and save society. We need the fire as well as the altar. What is needed now is a fire that will burn the altar itself—turn the marble and porphyry and granite and hewn soft-stone all into fuel that shall go up in a common oblation to the waiting heavens. We may have fire and no altar, as well as have an altar and no fire. This is also a mistake. We ought to have religious places and Christian observances, locality with special meaning, resting-places with Heaven’s welcome written upon their portals. There is a deadly sophism lurking in the supposition that men can have the fire without the altar, and are independent of institutions, churches, families, places, Bibles, and all that is known by Christian arrangement for common worship. We are not meant to be solitary worshippers. When a man says he can read the Bible at home, I deny it. He can partially read it there, he can see some of its meaning there; but society is one, as well as is the individual, in some degrees and in some relations. There is a religion of fellowship as well as of solitude. Forsake not the assembling of yourselves together: there is a touch that helps life to gather itself up into its full force; there is a contagion which makes the heart feel strong in masonry. When a man says he can pray at home, I deny it—except in the sense that he can there partially pray. He can transact part of the commerce which ought to be going on continually between heaven and earth, earth and heaven; but there is a common prayer—the family cry, the congregational intercession, the sense that we are praying for one another in common petition at the throne of grace. It is not enough to kindle a fire: we must renew it. “The fire shall ever be burning upon the altar; it shall never go out.” Did not some men burn once who are cold now? Have not some men allowed the holy flame to perish? and is not their life now like a deserted altar laden with cold white ashes? Once they sang sweetly, prayed with eagerness of expectation, worked with both hands diligently, were always open to Christian appeal, focalised their lives in one poignant inquiry—Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do? I know of no drearier spectacle than to see a man who still bears the Christian name on the altar of whose heart the fire has gone out. That is a possibility. Lost enthusiasm means lost faith; lost passion means lost conviction. (J. Parker, D. D.)


Use of means
That fire on the altar was lighted originally from heaven; it was lighted, it is supposed, from the bright glory that was in the cloud, and ultimately dwelt in the Tabernacle between the cherubim; but while lighted from heaven it was kept burning by human appliances. God never dispenses with means; He gives grace, and expects us to use means. So that text that many pervert, “My grace is sufficient for you,” some people practically read as if it were, “My grace is a substitute for you.” Now it is not so; it is sufficient for you, but it never will be a substitute for you. God does not canonise indolence. He lights the spark that is in the heart from heaven, and He expects that, by prayer, by reading, by thought, you will keep it constantly burning. (J. Gumming, D. D.)


Conscientious performance of holy duties
Be conscientious in the performance of holy duties. A fire which for awhile shoots up to heaven will faint both in its heat and brightness without fresh supplies of nourishing matter. Bring fresh wood to the altar morning and evening, as the priests were bound, for the nourishment of the holy fire. God in all His promises supposes the use of means. When He promised Hezekiah his life for fifteen years, it cannot be supposed that he should live without eating and exercise. It is both our sin and misery to neglect the means. Therefore let a holy and humble spirit breathe in all our acts of worship. If we once become listless to duty we shall quickly become lifeless in it. If we languish in our duties we shall not long be lively in our graces. (S. Charnock.)


The perpetual fire
So careful is God of this continual burning, that, if you mark, it is reported over and over (see Lev_6:9; Lev_6:12). To this end, the priest’s care was to feed it with wood, and see to it day and night, and with no other fire might either sacrifice, or incense, be burned and offered to God. This fire was carefully kept upon the altar to the captivity of Babylon, and afterward found again of Neh_2:1-20., 2Ma_1:18-19. Of like from hence might grow that great honour and regard, which the heathens had fire in, whereof we read often. The Athenians in their Prytaneo, trod at Delphos, and at Rome, of those Vestal Virgins continual fire was kept, and of many it was worshipped as a God. The Persians called it Orismada, that is, holy fire; and in public pomp they used to carry it before kings with great solemnity. What might be the reason why God appointed this ceremony of continual fire upon the altar, and how may we profit by it?
1. First, there was figured by it the death of Christ from the beginning of the world; namely, that He was the Lamb slain from the beginning for mankind, and by this shadow they were led to believe that although as yet Christ was not come in the flesh, nevertheless the fruit of His death belonged to them, as well as to those that should live when He came, or was come; for this fire was continual and went not out, no more did the fruit of His passion fail to any true believer, even from the beginning. But they were saved by believing that He should come, as we are now, by believing that He is come.
2. Also this fire came from heaven (Lev_9:24), and so should Christ in the time appointed. This fire was ever in, and never went out, and so is God ever ready to accept our sacrifices and appointed duties, ever ready to hear us and forgive us, but we are slow and dull, and come not to Him as we ought.
3. No other fire might be used but this, and so they were taught to keep to God’s ordinances, and to fly from all inventions of their own heads. For ever it was true, and ever will be true, “In vain do men worship Me, teaching for doctrines men’s precepts.” Our devices, seem they never so wise, so fit, so holy and excellent, they are strange fire, not that fire that came from heaven, not that fire that God will be pleased withal or endure. This fire coming first from heaven, and thus preserved, still preached unto them by figure, that as well did their sacrifices and services duly performed according to the law please God, as that did when first God sent His fire from heaven to consume it, in token of approbation, which surely was a great comfort to their consciences and a mighty prop to fainting, fearing weak faith.
4. This fire thus maintained and kept with all care, and “not suffered ever to go out,” taught them, and still may teach us, to be careful to keep in the fire of God’s holy Spirit, that it never die, nor go out within us. The fire is kept in by honest life, as by wood, by true sighs of unfeigned repentance, as by breath or blowing, and by meek humility, as by soft ashes. Oh, that we may have care to keep it in l what should I say? This continued fire taught then, and, though it be now gone and abrogated, may still teach us now, to be careful to keep in, amongst us, the fire of God’s Word, the true preaching of His truth, to the salvation of our souls.
5. For the fire hath these properties—it shineth and giveth light, it heateth, it consumeth, it trieth: so the preaching of the gospel. “Thy Word is a lantern unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” St. Peter calleth it “a candle in a dark place,” and many Scriptures teach the shining light of it. The heat in like sort: “Did not our hearts burn within us, whilst He talked with us, and opened the Scriptures? The fire kindled, and I spake with my tongue,” saith the Psalm; and as fire it pleased the Holy Spirit to appear at Pentecost, to show this fruit of effect of the Word preached by their mouths, it heateth the heart to all good life, and maketh us “zealous of good works.” The dross of our corruption by degrees it washeth, the stubble of our fancies it “burneth up and consumeth,” so that we abhor the sins we have been pleased with, and hate the remembrance of evil passed.
6. Lastly, it trieth doctrine, and severeth truth from error; it trieth men, and discovereth hypocrites. All worthy motives to make us careful to preserve this fire perpetually amongst us whilst we live, and in a holy zeal to provide for it also when we are dead. So shall we live being dead; nay, so shall we assuredly never die, but with immortal souls, and never-dying tongues, praise His name that liveth for ever, and will have us with Him. (Bp. Babington.)


A fire easily perpetuated
At Kildare a memorial fire was kept up in honour of St. Bridget for seven hundred years, and extinguished in the thirteenth century by order of an Archbishop of Dublin. It is easier to keep up the outward fires of superstition than the Divine fire on the altar of the heart.
The constancy of religion
David Livingstone, who did so much toward opening up the dark continent of Africa, told the following story. When he was a boy, a faithful Christian man called him to his death-bed and said, “My son, make religion the everyday business of your life, and not a thing of fits and starts.” Livingstone’s life shows that he followed the advice to the day of his death, even to his last hour, which was spent on his knees in prayer to Him to whom he had so often gone for comfort.
Keeping the fire burning
In Florence good housewives use cakes of vine-refuse to keep the fire in when they are away from home. These cakes cannot yield much heat or create a blaze, but they feed sufficient fire to save lighting it again. Do not many obscure, untalented, but quietly sincere believers answer just this purpose in our churches? In dull and dead times they preserve “the things which remain and are ready to die”; they detain the heavenly flame, which else would quite depart, and though the best they can do is but to smoulder in sorrow at the declension of the times, yet they are not to he despised. When, in happier days, the fire of piety shall burn with renewed energy, we shall be grateful to those who were as the ashes on the hearth, and kept the dying flame alive.
Need for constant piety
Some Christians are like those toys they import from France, which have sand in them; the sand runs down, and some little invention turns and works them as long as the sand is running, but when the sand is all out it stops. So on Sunday morning these people are just turned right, and the sand runs, and they work all the Sunday; but the sand runs down by Sunday night, and then they stand still, or else go on with the world’s work just as they did before. Oh! this will never do! There must be a living principle; something that shall be a mainspring within; a wheel that cannot help running on, and that does not depend upon external resources.
Rekindling the spiritual fire
Epiphanius maketh mention of those that travel by the deserts of Syria, where are nothing but miserable marshes and sands, destitute of all commodities, nothing to be had for love or money; if it so happen that their fire go out by the way then they light it again at the heat of the sun, by the means of a burning-glass or some other device that they have. And thus in the wilderness of this world, if any man have suffered the sparks of Divine grace to die in him, the fire of zeal to go out in his heart, there is no means under the sun to enliven those dead sparks, to kindle that extinguished fire again, but at the Sun of Righteousness, that Fountain of Light, Christ Jesus. (J. Spencer.)


Constant light
Many hypocrites are like comets, that appear for awhile with a mighty blaze, but are very unsteady and irregular in their motion; their blaze soon disappears, and they appear but once in a great while. But true saints are like fixed stars, which, though they rise and set, and are often clouded, yet are steadfast in their orb, and shine with a constant light. (Pres. Edwards.)


A constantly burning lamp
Any man or woman, however obscure, whose life is clean, whose words are true, whose intention is to help God in His world, kindles a light which never goes out.