"A man was famous according as he had lifted up axes upon the thick trees; but now they break down the carved work thereof at once with axes and hammers." (Psa. 74. 5-6 AV*).

This sublime lament may well have been composed in Babylon at the time of the captivity. It seems clearly to refer to the destruction of Solomon's Temple. There is no event in Israel's earlier history which the words can fit. The Psalmist laments the destruction of the Divine Sanctuary by fire, its profanation by pagan symbols, and concludes on the despairing note, "we see not our signs; there is no more any prophet; neither is there among us any that knows how long". Looking around him at the ruined house of prayer and calling to mind its former glories, he breaks out into the bitter reflection just quoted. In the days when this Temple was built men achieved honour and glory by virtue of their labours upon the great cedars and stately olives which were cut down and shaped to their uses in this house; but now fame and reward is to him who leads his comrades in the work of destruction. 'Ichabod' has been written over the portals and the glory has departed.

What would have been the thoughts of those men who hewed the timbers for the Temple, had they known that in generations to come their work would became the prey of the invader, suffering total destruction at the hands of God's enemies? 1 Kings 5 tells of King Solomon writing to his friend Hiram, King of Tyre, who had jurisdiction over the forests of Lebanon, "Command thou that they hew me cedar trees out of Lebanon . . . So Hiram gave Solomon cedar trees and fir trees according to his desire .... and Solomon had threescore and ten thousand that bare burdens, and fourscore thousand in the mountains . . so they prepared timber and stones to build the house". What a mighty work this must have been, this felling and transporting of cedars and firs of Lebanon to Jerusalem that the House of God might be built!

1 Kings 6 tells of the building and how these precious timbers were utilised. '"He built the walls of the house within with boards of cedar, both the floor of the house, and the walls of the ceiling; and he covered them on the inside with wood, and covered the floor of the house with planks of fir… and the cedar of the house within was carved with knops and open flowers; there was no stone seen....and within the oracle (inner sanctuary) he made two cherubim of olive tree, each ten cubits (about fifteen feet) high ...and he overlaid the cherubims with gold; and he carved all the walls of the house round about with carved figures of cherubims and palm trees and open flowers, within and without....And for the entering of the oracle he made doors of olive tree ....and he carved upon them carvings of cherubim and palm trees and open flowers; and covered them with gold fitted upon the carved work" (vv 15-35).

This was the carved work which these later despoilers attacked with their axes and hammers. Caring nothing for the labours of those who in times gone by had given their lives' best endeavours to creating these beautiful things for the glory of God, they wantonly destroyed that which they had neither capacity to create nor ability to appreciate, and the world was the poorer for their action.

Here is a parable suited to our own day. This is a time of frustration and disappointment so far as the honour and worship of God in our society is concerned, and the ready acceptance of the principles of the Gospel in the world's daily life. Those who are old enough to have known better and more rewarding times of Christian activity and fellowship tend to lament the bygone days when men were famous according as they had lifted up axes upon the thick trees ‑ the foundation principles of the Faith and of the Word of God. Entering for a moment into the world of metaphor, we remember how they brought them unto Zion with songs and rejoicing, and shaped them into walls and floors and ceilings for the house of prayer that was being built. We recall with a tightening of the heart strings how the carved work was put into place and an edifice of worship, of fellowship and of service prepared, into which many who could not find soul satisfaction in the formalism and traditions of past ages could enter, and rejoice in a new and wider vision of the Divine purpose for mankind. More than one Christian leader with insight deeper than his fellows has acted as did Solomon and taken the initiative in pointing the way to a more intense consecration of heart and life to God under the impetus of such increasing light of the Plan of God and the evangelistic work which went with it. The simple gladness and fervent zeal of those earlier days is traditional among many who now, toward the end of their earthly course, remember those former glories.

One thinks of the floor of fir, a symbol of everlasting life because of its evergreen nature. Here is the ground on which we stand. As we enter this temple we enter upon eternal life. "We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren." "Whosoever believeth on me hath everlasting life, and I will raise him up at the last day." Upon every side are the enclosing walls of cedar, a wood which according to Lev.14 was one of the constituents in the ceremonial cleansing of leprosy, and leprosy is a symbol of sin. So, in our temple, there is that all around which cleanses from sin. "There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the spirit." The doors into the sanctuary, made of olive wood, suggest thoughts of the 'way in' to God's purposes and to communion with him ‑ access by Jesus Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit. "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared… but God hath revealed them to us by his Spirit." So do the olive wood doors swing open, revealing to us somewhat of the glories which lie beyond.

What now of the carved cherubim, mystic figures which so often have been pointed to as symbols of the four attributes of God, his Wisdom, Justice, Love and Power standing revealed in all their beauty and magnificence? Here they remain, alternating with the carved palm trees, speaking of the righteous man who shall flourish like a palm tree (Psa. 92.12-14) in his growth to the full stature of a man in Christ (Eph. 4. 11-13). Between the cherubim and the palm trees, above and around, wrought into a score of graceful patterns, the open flowers—probably lilies and pomegranates ‑ fit symbols of the many precious promises of the Word; all flowers, all 'open' for our enjoyment, means of the bringing forth of "much fruit". It is a picture of our coming to know God in the cherubim; of our growth in grace and Christ-likeness in the palm-trees; and our reception of the precious promises and the bringing forth of much fruit in the open flowers. And this is the "carved work" which unthinking ones in our own day set out to break down with axes and with hammers!

Make no mistake about it. The picture is very exact. In their heedless zeal many have done grave harm to the cause they espouse and disservice to the Lord they love. Some have set out to shatter the faith of others in fondly-held beliefs ‑ often in matters of little or no importance, on the plea of "walking in the light" and in the endeavour to substitute other and allegedly better conclusions. All too often the new belief is no nearer to ultimate truth; sometimes a good deal farther away from it, and some devoted disciple's joy and faith in their belief has been taken away to no purpose. Let us consider carefully what we are about before we apply our own little hammer to the carved work of the Temple!

To adorn and extend the Temple is not the same thing as breaking down the structure already erected by men of faith in times gone by. It is always our privilege and responsibility to bring forth out of the storehouse "things new and old" for the household of faith according to our ability. Every generation between Solomon and the Captivity did something to increase the beauty and majesty of the Temple at Jerusalem. Rich and poor, young and old, made their contribution according to their means, and the building which was eventually destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar's soldiers was at that time in every respect as impressive and glorious as King Solomon's ceremony of dedication. So must we ever be zealous to add to the edifice of the truth which we have inherited, but always with remembrance of the purpose for which truth is given to us, "for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ" (Eph.4.12). We need to add our contribution with care, that it may be helpful, encouraging, spiritually uplifting, to those to whom we minister and not on the contrary deprive them of the confidence and faith which formerly they enjoyed.

"But surely", says the iconoclast (which means "destroyer of idols"), "if a belief is error, it is better to expose it, whatever the consequence. Error never sanctifies; truth alone sanctifies". How often is that old tag repeated! and none us has ever yet attained the full truth. Like Paul we know only in part, and cannot hope to know fully until we are beyond the Veil. Whatever truth we hold, it must be to some extent tinged with "error" ‑ to some extent an inaccurate definition of that truth. Our aim and object should be constantly to advance to an increasingly accurate understanding of the truth. "Well, that is what I mean", says the iconoclast. Unfortunately, that is not what he really means. If he was honest with himself he would admit that what he really means is something like this: "I am convinced that this particular view of this particular subject is truth. Therefore, any other view must be error. Therefore, anyone holding a different view from mine must be in error. Therefore, since error does not sanctify, I must first destroy their faith in their belief, and then, if possible, get them to accept my own." So saying, he picks up his axe and hammer and goes out to destroy some carved work.

Many years ago a man of deep insight penned these words:

"A bending staff 1 would not break,
A feeble faith I would not shake,
Nor even rudely pluck away
The error which some truth may stay,
Whose sudden loss might leave without
A shield against the shafts of doubt."

How plain it is that the whole purpose of our insight into Scriptural doctrine and prophecy is that we might encourage and build up one another therewith. Unless it fulfils this function it is useless. Unless our knowledge is used to edification we are better off without the knowledge.

Yet it is very, very true that "Where there is no vision, the people perish" and "My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge" (Prov.29.18. Hos.4.6). We do well, therefore, to hold in grateful remembrance the labours of those who in past time lifted up axes upon the thick trees, and treasure the carved work they set up in the sanctuary. Even if some of it is becoming a little antique, not in accord with the best modern taste, it is good to recognise that it still gives joy to some, a joy that is taken away if we unceremoniously destroy it with our axes and hammers. We shall find at least one chapel in the sanctuary where we can make our own contribution to the carved work and add to the total store of the treasures wherewith God is honoured.

Christians are the inheritors of a rich tradition. Other men have laboured, and we have entered in to their labours. In the spirit of One Who made us members of himself, members who do not all have the same office, let us seek not our own, but each other's good. Let us be careful and reverent in the use of the revelation which our God has given to us. So shall we be his disciples.

AOH

 * Modern translations of this verse read quite differently, but this does not take away from the main point of this article.