Rensselaer Republican, Volume 22, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 December 1889 — IS THE HOLY CITY. [ARTICLE]

IS THE HOLY CITY.

Sermon Preached by Dr. Talmage in Jerusalem. rhe Procession of Kings, Conquerors, Poets and Immortal Men Pass Before the Mind’s Eye of the Celebrated Brooklyn Pastor, Rev. T. De Witt Talmage preached in the :it.yof Jerusalem last Sunday to a large fathering of Christian people Ilis text vas Matt, xxiii, 37: “Jerusalem! Jerusaem!” A report of his eloquent sermon is tppended. This exclamation burst from Christ’s ips as he came in sight of this great city, rad, although thinp have marveously sbanged, who can visit Jerusalem to-day without having its mighty past roll over on rim, and ordinary Utterance must give flace for the exclamatory as we cry, O,' rerusalem, Jerusalem ! Disappointed with !he Holy Land many have been, and I lave heard good friends s sty that their trdor about sacred places had been so lampcncd that they were sorry they sver visited Jerusalem. But with me .he city and it 3 surroundings are a ■apture, a solemnity, an overwhelming imotion. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem! The (recession of kings, conquerors, poets and immortal men and women pass before me is I stand here. Among the throng are Solomon, David and Christ. Yes, through .hese streets and amid these surroundings •ode Solomon, that wonder of splendor and yretcheduess. It seemed as if the world sxhausted itself on that man: - It wove its brightest flowers into his garland. It set its richest gems in his coronet. It pressed .he rarest wine to his lips. It robed him n the purest purple and embroidery. It sheered him with the sweetest music in hat land of harps. It greeted him with .he gladdest laughter that ever leaped from nirth’slip. It sprinkled his cheek with tpray from the brightest fountains. Royilty had no dominion, wealth no luxury, fold no glitter, flowers no sweetness, song 10 melody, light no radiance, upholstery 10 gorgeousness, Waters no gloam, birds no slum age, prancing coursers no mettle, xrchitecture no grutideur but it was all his. Across the thick grass of the lawn, fragrant with tufts of camphire from Engedi, fell .he long shadows of trees brought from iistant forests. Fish pools,'fed by artificial channels .that brought the streams from hills far away, .vere perpetually ruffled with fins, and rolden scales shot from water cave to wa--er cave, with endless dive and swirl, at,meting the gu«o of foreign potentates. Birds that had been brought from foreign iviar.es glanced and fluttered among the ’oliage, and callod to their mates far ber’ond the sea. From the roval stables there ;ame np the neighing of twelve thousand lorses, standing in blankets of Tyrian jurple, chewing their bits over troughs of waiting for the king's order to be wrought out in front of the palace when the ifflcial dignitaries would leap into the sadlle for some grand parade, or, harnessed to some of the fourteon hundred chariots of die king, the fiery chargers with flaunting aigne and throbbing nostril would make he earth jar with tho tramp of hoofs and -he thunder of wheels. While within and without the palace you could not think of a single luxury that could be added, or of a single splendor that could be kindled, down m tho banks of the sea the dry docks of Kzion-gobor rang with the hammers >f the shipwrights, who were constructing larger vessels for a still wider commerce, for all lands and clime s were to he robbed ■o make up Solomon’s glory. No rest till ais keels shall cut every sea, his axmen hew sver.y forest, his archers strike every rare wing, his flshermeu whip every stream, his merchants trade in every bazaar, his name ae honored by every tribe; and royalty shall nave no dominion, wealth no luxury, gold ao glitter, soug no melody, light no radiance, waters no gleam, birds no plumage, prancing coursers no mettle, upholstery no jorgeousiiess, architecture no grandeur, Dut it was all his. “V\ el),’’you say, “if thoro is any man nappy, he ought to be.’’ But I hear him muiing out through the palace, and see his robes actually incrusted with jewels, as he stands in tho front an d looks out upon tho vast domain. What does he says King solomon, great is your dominion, great is your honor, grout is your joy ! No. W hilo standmg here amidst all the splendor, the tears start, and his heart breaks and he s‘xcliiims: “Vanity of vanities; all is vanity.” V\ hat! Solomon not happy yet? No, not happy. The honors and the emoluments of this world brings so many cares with them that they bring also torture and disquietude. Pharoah -sits on ono of tho hig lost earthly eminences, yet he is miserable beI'ause there are some people in his realm that do hot want any longor to make bricks. The head of Edward I. arches under his crown because the people will uot pay the taxes, and Llewellyn, Prince of v> ales, will not do him homage, and Wallace will be a hero. Frederick William 111, of Prussia, is miserable because France wants to take the Prussian provinces. The world is not large enough for Louis XIV and William 111. The ghastliest suffering, the most shriveling fear, the most rending jealousies, tho most gigantic disquietude, havo walked amidst pbsequious courtiers, and been clothed in royal apparel, and sat on judgment seats of power. Honor and truth and justice cannot go so high up in authority as to bo beyond the range of human assault. The pure and good in all ages have been execrated by tho mob who cry out: “Not Bus man, but Barabbas. Now, Barabbus was a robber.” By hoaesty, by Christian principle, 1 would have you seek for tho favor and the confidence of your fellow men; but do not look upon some high position as though that were always sunshine. The mountains of earthly honor are like the mountains of Switzerland, covered with perpetual Ice and snow. Having obtained the confidence and love of your associates, be content with such things as you have. You brought nothing into tho world, and It is very oertaln you can carry nothing out “Cease ye from man, whose breath is in his nostrils.’? There is an honor that is worLh possessing, but it is an honor that comes from Cod. This day rise up and take It “Letaold what manner of love tho father hath be stowed upon ns, that we should be called tho sons of God." Who aspires not for that royalty? Come now, and be kings and priests unto God and tho lamb forever. If wealth and wisdom could have satisfied a man, Solomon would have been satisfied. so say that Solomon was a millionaire gives but a very imperfect idea of the property he inherited from David, his fatter. He bad at his command gold to the vdlue of six hundred and eighty million pounds, and he had silver to the value of one billion, twenty-nine million, three hun- j dred and seventy-seven pounds sterling. ! The queen of Sheba made him a nice l'ttle present of sevoa hundred and twenty thou- , sand pounds, and i.iram made him a pres- j ent of the sumo amount. If he hud lost tho value of a whole realm out of his pocket, it w -illJ have hardly been worth his while t« sto./p down and pick it up. He wrote one housand and flvo songs. He wrote three thousand proverbs. Ho wrote about nlmost everything. The Bible says distinctly be wrote about plants, from the

cedar Of Lebanon to the hyssop that groweth out of the wall, and about birds and beasts and fishes. No doubt Tie put off hds royal rdb?s, and put on hunter’s trapping,’ and wont out with his arrows to bring down the rarest specimens of birds; and then with his fishing apparatus he went down to the stream to briDg up the denizens of the deep, and plunged into the forest and found the rarest' specimens of. flowers; and then he came back to his study and wrote books about zoology, the science of animals; about ichthyology, the science : of fishes; about ornithology, the science of.; birds; about botany, the science of plants. Yet, notwithstanding all his wisdom and wealth, behold his wretchedness, and let him pass on. Did any other city ever behold so wonderful a man? O Jerusalem, Jerusalem! But here passes through these streets, as in imagination I see him, quite as wonderful and a far better man. David the conqueror, the king, the poet. Can it be that I am in tho very city where he lived and reigned? David great for power, and great for grief. He was wrapped up in his boy Absalom. He was a splendid boy, judged by the rules of wordly criticism. From the crown Of his bead to the sole of his foot there was not a single blemish. The Bible —says —that he had sueh a luxuriant shock of hair that, when once a year it w*s shorn, what was cut off weighed over throe pounds. But, notwitstanding aIL his brilliancy of appearance, he was a bad boy, and broke his father's heart. He was' plotting to get tho throne of Israel. He had marshalled an army to overthrow his father’s government. The day of battle had come. The conflict was begun. David, the father, sat between the gates of the palace waiting for the tidings of the con- ; fiict Oh, how rapidly his heart beat with emotion I Two great questions were to be decided; the safety of his boy, and the continuance of tho throne of Israel. After awhile, a servant, standing on the top of the house, loons off, and he sees some one running. He is coming with great speed, and the man on top of the house announces the coming of the messen : ger, and the lather watches and waits, and • as soon as tho messenger from the field of battle comes within hailing distance the father cries out. Is it a question in regard to the establishment of his throne? Dogs he say: “Have the ; armies of Israel been victorious? Am 1 I to continue in my imperial authority? Have I overthrown my enemies?” Oh, no. There is ono question that springs from his heart to the lip, and springs from the lip into the ear of the besweated and bedusted messenger flying from the battle field—the question; “Is the young man Absalom safe!” When it was told to David, the king, that, though his armies had been victorious, . his son had been slain, the father turned his back upon the congratulations of the nation, and went up the stairs of his palace, his heart breaking as lie went, wringing his hands sometimes, and then again pressing them against, his temples as though ho would press them in, crying: “O Absalom Imy sod! my son! Would God I had died for thee, O Absalom! my son! my son! ’ Stupendous griof of David resounding through all succeeding ages. This was the city that heard the woe. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem! I am also thrilled and overpowered with ! the remembrance that yonder, where now stands a Mohammedan mosque, stood the temple, the very one that Christ Visited, Solomon’s temple had stood there, but Nebuchadnezzar thundered it down. Zerub babel’s temple had stood there, but that had been prostrated. Then rierod built a temple beemse he Was fond of great architecture, and he wanted the pre ceding temples to seem insignificant. Put eight or ten modern cathedrals together, and they would hot equal that structure. It covered nineteen acres. There were marble pillars supporting roofs of cedar, and silver tables on which stood golden cups, and there were parvmgs exquisite and inscr.ptions resplendent, glittering balustrades and orna - mented gateways. The building of this temple kept ten thousand workmen busy forty-six years. Stupendous pile of pomp and magnificence! but the material and architectural grandeur of the building were very tame compared with the spiritual meaning of its altars and holy of holies, and the overwhelming signili :auce of its of it 3 ceremonies. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem! Hut standing in this old city all other facts are eclipsed when we think that near here our blessed Lord was born, that up and down the streets of this city he walked, and that in the outskirts of it he died. Here was his only day of triumph and his assass nation. One day this old Jerusalem is at the tiptop or excitement. Christ- has been doing Borne remarkable' works and asserting very high authority. The police courthas issued papers for his arrest, for this th,ng must bo stopped, as the very government is imperiled. News comes that last night this stranger arrived at a suburban Village and that ho is stopping at the house of a man whom he had resuscitated after four days’ sepulture, u ell, the people rush out into the streets, some with the idea of helping in the arrest of this stranger when he arrives, and others expecting that on the morrow he will come into the town and by some supernatural force oust the municipal and royal authorities and take everything in his own hands. They pour out of the city < gates until the procession reaches to the village. They come all a ound about the house where the stranger is slopping, and peer into the doors and windows that they may get one glimpse of him or hear the hum of his voice. Tho police dare not make tne arrest, because he has somehow won the affections of all the people. Oh, it is n lively night in yonder Bethany! The heretofore quiet village is filled with, uproar, and outcry, and loud , discussion about the strongo acting country-"j man. I do not think there was any sleep in ' that house that night where the’ stranger was stopp ng. Although ho came in weary ho finds no rest, though for once in his lifetime he had a pillow. But the morning dawns, the olive gurdens wave in the light, all ulong yonder road, reaching over the top of Olivet toward this city, there is a va»t swaying crowd of wonderlug people. The i excitement ai o ud the uoor of the cottage is wild us the stranger steps out beside an unbroken colt that hud never boon mounted, and after bis friends hud strewn their garments on the beast for a sa Idle the Savior mounts it, and the populace, excited and shouting und feverish, push on book toward this city of Jurus item. Let nono jeer now or scoff at this rid ir, or the . populace will trample him under foot iu an instant There is one long shout of two miles, and as far as the eye can reach you 1 see wavings of demonstrations and approval. Thoro w w so nothing in tho rider’s visage, something in his majestic bow, something in bis prtxirejy behavior, that stirs up the cm husiasm of the people. They r:u up against U«c beast and try to pull tho rider off into their arms and enrry on their shoulders tho illustrious st ranger. Tho populace are so exc ted that they h trd y kqow what to do with themsilves, and < some rush up to the roadside ire is and wrench off branches »nd throw them id his way; and others doff their garments whit though they oo new and costly, and spread them for a carpet for the conqueror to ride 1

over. !” cry the jxeople at the foot of the ,hilL “Hosanna!” cry the people ail up and down the mountain. The procession has now come to the brow of yonder Olivet.*- Magnificent prospect reaching out in every direc-tion-vineyards, olive groves, jutting rock, silvery Siloam, and above all, rising _Oh its throne of hills, this most highly honored city of- all the earth, Jerusalem. Christ there, in the midst ojf the procession, looks off and sees here fortrdssed gates, and yonder the circling wall, and here the towers blazing in the suri, Phasaelus and Mariamne. Yonder is Hippicus, tho king’s castle. Looking along in the range of the larger branch of that olive tree, you see the mansions of the merchant princes. Through tills cleft in, the limestone rock you see the palace, of the richest trafficker in all the earth. He has made his money t>y selling Tyrian purple. Behold now the temple! Clouds of smoke lifting from the shimmering roof, while the building rises up beautiful, grand, majestic, the architectural skill and glory of the earth lifting themselves there in triumphant doxology, the frozen prayer of all nations. The crowd looked around to see exhilaration and transport in the face of Christ. Oh, no! ' Out from amid the gates, and the domes, and the palaces, there arose a vision of this city’s sin, and of this city’s doom, which obliterated the landscape from horizon to horizon, ;;nd he burst into tears, cry ipg; “Q Jerusalem, Jerusalem!” But that was the only day of pomp that Jesus saw in and around this city. Yet ha walked the streets of this city the lovliest and most majestic being that the world ever saw or ever will see. Publhi3 Lentilus, in a letter to the Roman senate, describes him as “a man of stature somewhat tall, his hair the color of a chestnut lully ripe, plain to the ears, whence downward it is more orient, curling and waving about the shoulders; in the midst of his forehead is a stream, or partition of his hair; forehead' plain, and very delicate; his face without a spot or a wrinkle, a lovely red; bis nose and mouth so forked as nothing can be represented; his beard thick, ip color like his hair—uot very long; his eyes-gray, quick and clear.” He must die. The French army in Italy found a brass plate on which was a copy of his death warrant, signed by John Ferubbabei, Raphael Robani, Daniel Ro bani and Capet. Sometimes men on the way to the scaffold have been rescued by the mob. No suchattempt was made in this case, for thp mob were against him. From nine in the morning till three in the afternoon, Jesus hung a-dying in the outskirts of this city. It was a scene of blood. We’are so constituted that nothing is so exciting as blood. Jt is not the child’s cry iu the street that arouses you as the crimson drippipg from its lip. In the dark hall, seeing tho finger marks of blood on the plastering, you cry: “What terrible deed has been done here?” Looking upon this suspended victim of the cross, we thrill with the sight of blood—blood dripping from thorn and nail, blood rushing upon his cheek, blood saturating his garments, blood gathered iu a pool beneath It is called an honor to have in one’s veins the blood of the house of Stuart, or of the house of Hapsburg. Is it nothing when I point you to the outpouring blood of the king of the universe! In England tho name of Henry was so great that its honors were divided among different reigns. It was Henry the First, and Henry the Second, and Henry the Tiird, and Henry the Fourth, and Henry tub Fifth. In France the name of Louis was so favorably regarded that it was Louis the First; Louis the Second, Louis the Third, and so on. But the king who walked these streets Was Christ the First, Christ the Last, and Christ the Only. He reigned before the czar mounted the throne of Russia, or tho throne oi Austria was lifted, “king eternal, immortal.” Through tho indulgences of the royal familjvtho physical life degenerates, and some of tho kings have been almost imbecile, and their bodies weak, and their blood thin, and watery; but the criinsoaliieLlhat flowed upon Calvary had in it the health of immortal God. Tell it now to all the earth, and to all the heavens—Jesus, our king, is sick with his last sickness. Let couriers carry the swift dispatch. His pains are worse; he is breathing a last groan; through his body quivers the last anguish; the king is dying; the king is dead! It is royal blood. It is said that some religionists make too mucli of the humanity of Christ. I respond that we make too little. If some Roman surgeon, standing under the cross, hau caught one drop of the blood on his hand and analyzed it, it would have beeu found to have the same plasma, the same disk, the same fibrin, the same albumen, it was unmistakably human blood. It is a man that hangs there. His bones are of the same material as ours. If it were au angel being despoiled I would not feel —it so much, for it —belongs to a different order of beings. But my Saviour is a man, and my whole sympathy is aroused, I cap imagine how the spikes fell—how hot tho temples burned—what deadly sickness seized his heart —how mountain, and city, and mob swain away from his dying vision—something of the meaning of that cry for help that makes the blood of all the ages curdle with horror: “.viy God! my God! why hast thou forsaken me ?” Forever with all these scenes of a Saviour’s suffering will this city be associated. Here his unjust trial and here his death. O Jerusalem, Jerusalem! But finally I am thrilled with the fact that tins city is a symbol of heaven which is only another Jerusalem, “Tho Now Jerusalem!” And this thought has kindled tho imagination of ad the sacred poets. I am glad that Horatio Bonar, the Scotch ■ h.vinnist rummaged among old manuscripts j of the British museum until he found that hymn in ancient spelling, parts of which we have in mutilated form in Our,modern hymn books, hut the quaint power of which we do not get in our modern versions; Hierusalom, my happy home! V\ hen shall I come to thee! When shall ray sorroives have an end, Tby joyes when shall I see? Noe damp sh mist is scene in thee, Ni e colde nor darksome night; There everie soule shines as the sunne, There God himselfe gives light. Thy walls are made of pretious stones, Thy bulwarkes diantondes square; Thy gates are of right orient pearle, Exceedingo riche and rare. Thy turrettes and thy pinnacles With carbuncles doe shine; Thy ve rie streets are paved with gould, Surpassingo do.ire and fine. Thy houses are of y vorie, T hy windows crystal cleare; Thy t.vles are made of beaten gould. O God l that I were there. , Our sweete is mixt with bitter gaule, Onr pleasure is but pa ne; Our joyes scarce last the lookeiug on, Our sorrowes stilie romaine. But there they live in such delight, Such p ensures and such play, As that to them a thousand yeares Doth seem as yesterday. Thy gardens and thy gallant walkes Continually are greene, There grow such sweeto and pleasant flow era As no where else are scene. There tre u s for evermore beare fruite » And evermore doe springe; Therepvermoro the angels sit, And evermore doe singe. Hierusalem! my happie home! i ould God I were in thee! Would God my woes were at an end, Thy joyes that 1 might see 1