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			 REHOBOAM AND ABIJAH: THE 
			IMPORTANCE OF RITUAL 
			2 Chronicles 10-13 
			THE transition from Solomon to Rehoboam brings to light a serious 
			drawback of the chronicler’s principle of selection. In the history 
			of Solomon we read of nothing but wealth, splendor, unchallenged 
			dominion, and superhuman wisdom; and yet the breath is hardly out of 
			the body of the wisest and greatest king of Israel before his empire 
			falls to pieces. We are told, as in the book of Kings, that the 
			people met Rehoboam with a demand for release from "the grievous 
			service of thy father," and yet we were expressly told only two 
			chapters before that "of the children of Israel did Solomon make no 
			servants for his work; but they were men of war, and chief of his 
			captains, and rulers of his chariots and of his horsemen." (2Ch 8:9) 
			Rehoboam apparently had been left by the wisdom of his father to the 
			companionship of headstrong and featherbrained youths; he followed 
			their advice rather than that of Solomon’s grey-headed counselors, 
			with the result that the ten tribes successfully revolted and chose 
			Jeroboam for their king. Rehoboam assembled an army to re-conquer 
			his lost territory, but Jehovah through the prophet Shemaiah forbade 
			him to make war against Jeroboam. 
			 
			The chronicler here and elsewhere shows his anxiety not to perplex 
			simple minds with unnecessary difficulties. They might be harassed 
			and disturbed by the discovery that the king, who built the Temple 
			and was specially endowed with Divine wisdom, had fallen into 
			grievous sin and been visited with condign punishment. Accordingly 
			everything that discredits Solomon and detracts from his glory is 
			omitted. The general principle is sound; an earnest teacher, alive 
			to his responsibilities, will not wantonly obtrude difficulties upon 
			his hearers; when silence does not involve disloyalty to truth, he 
			will be willing that they should remain in ignorance of some of the 
			more mysterious dealings of God in nature and history. But silence 
			was more possible and less dangerous in the chronicler’s time than 
			in the nineteenth century. He could count upon a docile and 
			submissive spirit in his readers; they would not inquire beyond what 
			they were told: they would not discover the difficulties for 
			themselves. Jewish youths were not exposed to the attacks of eager 
			and militant skeptics, who would force these difficulties upon their 
			notice in an exaggerated form, and at once demand that they should 
			cease to believe in anything human or Divine. 
			 
			And yet, though the chronicler had great advantages in this matter, 
			his own narrative illustrates the narrow limits within which the 
			principle of the suppression of difficulties can be safely applied. 
			His silence as to Solomon’s sins and misfortunes makes the revolt of 
			the ten tribes utterly inexplicable. After the account of the 
			perfect wisdom, peace, and prosperity of Solomon’s reign, the revolt 
			comes upon an intelligent reader with a shock of surprise and almost 
			of incredulity. If he could not test the chronicles narrative by 
			that of the book of Kings and it was no part of the chronicler’s 
			purpose that his history should be thus tested-the violent 
			transition from Solomon’s unbroken prosperity to the catastrophe of 
			the disruption would leave the reader quite uncertain as to the 
			general credibility of Chronicles. In avoiding Scylla, our author 
			has fallen into Charybdis; he has suppressed one set of difficulties 
			only to create others. If we wish to help intelligent inquirers and 
			to aid them to form an independent judgment, our safest plan will 
			often be to tell them all we know ourselves and to believe that 
			difficulties, which have no way marred our spiritual life, will not 
			destroy their faith. 
			 
			In the next section the chronicler tells how for three years 
			Rehoboam administered his diminished kingdom with wisdom and 
			success; he and his people walked in the way of David and Solomon, 
			and his kingdom was established, and he was strong. He fortified 
			fifteen cities in Judah and Benjamin, and put captains in them, and 
			store of victuals, and oil and wine, and shields and spears, and 
			made them exceeding strong. Rehoboam was further strengthened by 
			deserters from the Northern Kingdom. Though the Pentateuch and the 
			book of Joshua assigned to the priests and Levites cities in the 
			territory held by Jeroboam, yet their intimate association with the 
			Temple rendered it impossible for them to remain citizens of a state 
			hostile to Jerusalem. The chronicler indeed tells us that "Jeroboam 
			and his sons cast them off, that they should not execute the 
			priest’s office unto Jehovah, and appointed others to be priests for 
			the high places and the he-goats and for the calves which he had." 
			It is difficult to understand what the chronicler means by this 
			statement. On the face of it, we should suppose that Jeroboam 
			refused to employ the house of Aaron and the tribe of Levi for the 
			worship of his he-goats and calves, but the chronicler could not 
			describe such action as casting "them off that they should not 
			execute the priest’s office unto Jehovah." The passage has been 
			explained to mean that Jeroboam sought to hinder them from 
			exercising their functions at the Temple by preventing them from 
			visiting Judah; but to confine the priests and Levites to his own 
			kingdom would have been a. strange way of casting them off. However, 
			whether driven out by Jeroboam or escaping from him, they came to 
			Jerusalem and brought with them from among the ten tribes other 
			pious Israelites, who were attached to the worship of the Temple. 
			Judah and Jerusalem became the home of all true worshippers of 
			Jehovah; and those who remained in the Northern Kingdom were given 
			up to idolatry or the degenerate and corrupt worship of the high 
			places. The chronicler then gives us some account of Rehoboam’s 
			harem and children, and tells that he dealt wisely, and dispersed 
			his twenty-eight sons "throughout all the lands of Judah and 
			Benjamin, unto every fenced city." He gave them the means of 
			maintaining a luxurious table, and provided them with numerous 
			wives, and trusted that, being thus happily circumstanced, they 
			would lack leisure, energy, and ambition to imitate Absalom and 
			Adonijah. 
			 
			Prosperity and security turned the head of Rehoboam as they had done 
			that of David: "He forsook the law of Jehovah, and all Israel with 
			him." "All Israel" means all the subjects of Rehoboam; the 
			chronicler treats the ten tribes as cut off from Israel. The 
			faithful worshippers of Jehovah in Judah had been reinforced by the 
			priests, Levites, and all other pious Israelites from the Northern 
			Kingdom; and yet in three years they forsook the cause for which 
			they had left their country and their father’s house. Punishment was 
			not long delayed, for Shishak, king of Egypt, invaded Judah with an 
			immense host and took away the treasures of the house of Jehovah and 
			of the king’s house. 
			 
			The chronicler explains why Rehoboam was not more severely punished. 
			Shishak appeared before Jerusalem with his immense host: Ethiopians, 
			Lubim or Lybians, and Sukiim, a mysterious people only mentioned 
			here. The LXX and Vulgate translate Sukiim "Troglodytes," apparently 
			identifying them with the cave-dwellers on the western or Ethiopian 
			coast of the Red Sea. In order to find safety from these strange and 
			barbarous enemies, Rehoboam and his princes were gathered together 
			in Jerusalem. Shemaiah the prophet appeared before them and declared 
			that the invasion was Jehovah’s punishment for their sin, whereupon 
			they humbled themselves, and Jehovah accepted their penitent 
			submission. He would not destroy Jerusalem, but the Jews should 
			serve Shishak, "that they may know My service and the service of the 
			kingdoms of the countries." When they threw off the yoke of Jehovah, 
			they sold themselves into a worse bondage. There is no freedom to be 
			gained by repudiating the restraints of morality and religion. If we 
			do not choose to be the servants of obedience unto righteousness, 
			our only alternative is to become the slaves "of sin unto death." 
			The repentant sinner may return to his true allegiance, and yet he 
			may still be allowed to taste something of the bitterness and 
			humiliation of the bondage of sin. His Shishak may be some evil 
			habit or propensity or special liability to temptation, that is 
			permitted to harass him without destroying his spiritual life. In 
			time the chastening of the Lord works out the peaceable fruits of 
			righteousness, and the Christian is weaned forever from the 
			unprofitable service of sin. 
			 
			Unhappily the repentance inspired by trouble and distress is not 
			always real and permanent. Many will humble themselves before the 
			Lord in order to avert imminent ruin, and will forsake Him when the 
			danger has passed away. Apparently Rehoboam soon fell away again 
			into sin, for the final judgment upon him is, "He did that which was 
			evil, because he set not his heart to seek Jehovah." David in his 
			last prayer had asked for a "perfect heart" for Solomon, but he had 
			not been able to secure this blessing for his grandson, and Rehoboam 
			was "the foolishness of the people, one that had no understand ing, 
			who turned away the people through his counsel." (Ecclesiasticus 
			47:23) 
			 
			Rehoboam was succeeded by his son Abijah, concerning whom we are 
			told in the book of Kings that "he walked in all the sins of his 
			father, which he had done before him; and his heart was not perfect 
			with Jehovah his God, as the heart of David his father." The 
			chronicler omits this unfavorable verdict; he does not indeed 
			classify Abijah among the good kings by the usual formal statement 
			that "he did that which was good and right in the eyes of Jehovah," 
			but Abijah delivers a hortatory speech and by Divine assistance 
			obtains a great victory over Jeroboam. There is not a suggestion of 
			any evil-doing on the part of Abijah; and yet we gather from the 
			history of Asa that in Abijah’s reign the cities of Judah were given 
			up to idolatry, with all its paraphernalia of "strange altars, high 
			places, Asherim, and sun-images." As in the case of Solomon, so 
			here, the chronicler has sacrificed even the consistency of his own 
			narrative to his care for the reputation of the house of David. How 
			the verdict of ancient history upon Abijah came to be set aside we 
			do not know. The charitable work of whitewashing the bad characters 
			of history has always had an attraction for enterprising annalists; 
			and Abijah was a more promising subject than Nero, Tiberius, or 
			Henry VIII The chronicler would rejoice to discover one more good 
			king of Judah; but yet why should the record of Abijah’s sins be 
			expunged, while Ahaziah and Amon were still held up to the 
			execration of posterity? 
			 
			Probably the chronicler was anxious that nothing should mar the 
			effect of his narrative of Abijah’s victory. If his later sources 
			had recorded anything equally creditable of Ahaziah and Amon, be 
			might have ignored the judgment of the book of Kings in their case 
			also. 
			 
			The section to which the chronicler attaches so much importance 
			describes a striking episode in the chronic warfare between Judah 
			and Israel. Here Israel is used, as in the older history, to mean 
			the Northern Kingdom, and does not denote the spiritual Israel-i.e., 
			Judah-as in the previous chapter. This perplexing variation in the 
			use of the term "Israel" shows how far Chronicles has departed from 
			the religious ideas of the book of Kings, and reminds us that the 
			chronicler has only partially and imperfectly assimilated his older 
			material. 
			 
			Abijah and Jeroboam had each gathered an immense army, but the army 
			of Israel was twice as large as that of Judah: Jeroboam had eight 
			hundred thousand to Abijah’s four hundred thousand. Jeroboam 
			advanced, confident in his overwhelming superiority and happy in the 
			belief that Providence sides with the strongest battalions. Abijah, 
			however, was nothing dismayed by the odds against him; his 
			confidence was m Jehovah. The two armies met in the neighborhood of 
			Mount Zemaraim, upon which Abijah fixed his camp. Mount Zemaraim was 
			in the hill-country of Ephraim, but its position cannot be 
			determined with certainty; it was probably near the border of the 
			two kingdoms. Possibly it was the site of the Benjamite city of the 
			same name mentioned in the book of Joshua in close connection with 
			Bethel. {Jos 18:22} If so, we should look for it in the neighborhood 
			of Bethel, a position which would suit the few indications of place 
			given by the narrative. 
			 
			Before the battle, Abijah made an effort to induce his enemies to 
			depart in peace. From the vantage-ground of his mountain camp he 
			addressed Jeroboam and his army as Jotham had addressed the men of 
			Shechem from Mount Gerizim. {Jdg 9:8} Abijah reminded the rebels-for 
			as such he regarded them-that Jehovah, the God of Israel, had given 
			the kingdom over Israel to David forever, even to him and to his 
			sons, by a covenant of salt, by a charter as solemn and unalterable 
			as that by which the heave-offerings had been given to the sons of 
			Aaron. {Num 18:19} The obligation of an Arab host to the guest who 
			had sat at meat with him and eaten of his salt was not more binding 
			than the Divine decree which had given the throne of Israel to the 
			house of David. And yet Jeroboam the son of Nebat had dared to 
			infringe the sacred rights of the elect dynasty. He, the slave of 
			Solomon, had risen up and rebelled against his master. 
			 
			The indignant prince of the house of David not unnaturally forgets 
			that the disruption was Jehovah’s own work, and that Jeroboam rose 
			up against his master, not at the instigation of Satan, but by the 
			command of the prophet Abijah. {2Ch 10:15} The advocates of sacred 
			causes even in inspired moments are apt to be one-sided in their 
			statements of fact. 
			 
			While Abijah is severe upon Jeroboam and his accomplices and calls 
			them "vain men, sons of Belial," he shows a filial tenderness for 
			the memory of Rehoboam. That unfortunate king had been taken at a 
			disadvantage, when he was young and tender-hearted and unable to 
			deal sternly with rebels. The tenderness which could threaten to 
			chastise his people with scorpions must have been of the kind- 
			 
			"That dared to look on torture and could not look on war";  
			 
			it only appears in the history in Rehoboam’s headlong flight to 
			Jerusalem. No one, however, will censure Abijah for taking an unduly 
			favorable view of his father’s character. 
			 
			But whatever advantage Jeroboam may have found in his first revolt, 
			Abijah warns him that now he need not think to withstand the kingdom 
			of Jehovah in the hands of the sons of David. He is no longer 
			opposed to an unseasoned youth, but to men who know their 
			overwhelming advantage. Jeroboam need not think to supplement and 
			complete his former achievements by adding Judah and Benjamin to his 
			kingdom. Against his superiority of four hundred thousand soldiers 
			Abijah can set a Divine alliance, attested by the presence of 
			priests and Levites and the regular performance of the pentateuchal 
			ritual, whilst the alienation of Israel from Jehovah is clearly 
			shown by the irregular orders of their priests. But let Abijah speak 
			for himself:  
			 
			"Ye be a great multitude, and there are with you the golden calves 
			which Jeroboam made you for gods." Possibly Abijah was able to point 
			to Bethel, where the royal sanctuary of the golden calf was visible 
			to both armies: "Have ye not driven out the priests of Jehovah, the 
			sons of Aaron and the Levites, and made for yourselves priests in 
			heathen fashion? When any one comes to consecrate himself with a 
			young bullock and seven rams, ye make him a priest of them that are 
			no gods. But as for us, Jehovah is our God, and we have not forsaken 
			Him; and we have priests, the sons of Aaron, ministering unto 
			Jehovah, and the Levites, doing their appointed work: and they burn 
			unto Jehovah morning and evening burnt offerings and sweet incense: 
			the shewbread also they set in order upon the table that is kept 
			free from all uncleanness; and we have the candlestick of gold, with 
			its lamps, to burn every evening; for we observe the ordinances of 
			Jehovah our God; but ye have forsaken Him. And, behold, God is with 
			us at our head, and His priests, with the trumpets of alarm, to 
			sound an alarm against you. O children of Israel, fight ye not 
			against Jehovah, the God of your fathers; for ye shall not prosper." 
			 
			This speech, we are told, "has been much admired. It was well suited 
			to its object, and exhibits correct notions of the theocratical 
			institutions." But like much other admirable eloquence, in the House 
			of Commons and elsewhere, Abijah’s speech had no effect upon those 
			to whom it was addressed. Jeroboam apparently utilized the interval 
			to plant an ambush in the rear of the Jewish army. 
			 
			Abijah’s speech is unique. There have been other instances in which 
			commanders have tried to make oratory take the place of arms, and, 
			like Abijah, they have mostly been unsuccessful; but they have 
			usually appealed to lower motives. Sennacherib’s envoys tried 
			ineffectually to seduce the garrison of Jerusalem from their 
			allegiance to Hezekiah, but they relied on threats of destruction 
			and promises of "a land of corn and wine, a land of bread and 
			vineyards, a land of oil olive and honey." There is, however, a 
			parallel instance of more successful persuasion. When Octavian was 
			at war with his fellow-triumvir Lepidus, he made a daring attempt to 
			win over his enemy’s army. He did not address them from the safe 
			elevation of a neighboring mountain, but rode openly into the 
			hostile camp. He appealed to the soldiers by motives as lofty as 
			those urged by Abijah, and called upon them to save their country 
			from civil war by deserting Lepidus. At the moment his appeal 
			failed, and he only escaped with a wound in his breast; but after a 
			while his enemy’s soldiers came over to him in detachments, and 
			eventually Lepidus was compelled to surrender to his rival. But the 
			deserters were not altogether influenced by pure patriotism. 
			Octavian had carefully prepared the way for his dramatic appearance 
			in the camp of Lepidus, and had used grosser means of persuasion 
			than arguments addressed to patriotic feeling. 
			 
			Another instance of a successful appeal to a hostile force is found 
			in the history of the first Napoleon, when he was marching on Paris 
			after his return from Elba. Near Grenoble he was met by a body of 
			royal troops. He at once advanced to the front, and exposing his 
			breast, exclaiming to the opposing ranks, "Here is your emperor; if 
			any one would kill me, let him fire." The detachment, which had been 
			sent to arrest his progress, at once deserted to their old 
			commander. Abijah’s task was less hopeful: the soldiers whom 
			Octavian and Napoleon won over had known these generals as lawful 
			commanders of Roman and French armies respectively, but Abijah could 
			not appeal to any old associations in the minds of Jeroboam’s army; 
			the Israelites were animated by ancient tribal jealousies, and 
			Jeroboam was made of sterner stuff than Lepidus or Louis XVIII 
			Abijah’s appeal is a monument of his humanity, faith, and devotion; 
			and if it failed to influence the enemy, doubtless served to 
			inspirit his own army. 
			 
			At first, however, things went badly with Judah. They were 
			outgeneraled as well as outnumbered: Jeroboam’s main body attacked 
			them in front, and the ambush assailed their rear. Like the men of 
			Ai, "when Judah looked back, behold, the battle was before and 
			behind them." But Jehovah, who fought against Ai, was fighting for 
			Judah, and they cried unto Jehovah; and then, as at Jericho, "the 
			men of Judah gave a shout, and when they shouted, God smote Jeroboam 
			and all Israel before Abijah and Judah." The rout was complete, and 
			was accompanied by terrible slaughter. No fewer than five hundred 
			thousand Israelites were slain by the men of Judah. The latter 
			pressed their advantage, and took the neighboring city of Bethel and 
			other Israelite towns. For the time Israel was "brought under," and 
			did not recover from its tremendous losses during the three years of 
			Abijah’s reign. As for Jeroboam, Jehovah smote him, and he died; but 
			"Abijah waxed mighty, and took unto himself fourteen wives, and 
			begat twenty-and-two sons and sixteen daughters." His history closes 
			with the record of these proofs of Divine favor, and he "slept with 
			his fathers, and they buried him in the city of David, and Asa his 
			son reigned in his stead." 
			 
			The lesson which the chronicler intends to teach by his narrative is 
			obviously the importance of ritual, not the importance of ritual 
			apart from the worship of the true God; he emphasizes the presence 
			of Jehovah with Judah, in contrast to the Israelite worship of 
			calves and those that are no gods. The chronicler dwells upon the 
			maintenance of the legitimate priesthood and the prescribed ritual 
			as the natural expression and clear proof of the devotion of the men 
			of Judah to their God. 
			 
			It may help us to realize the significance of Abijah’s speech, if we 
			try to construct an appeal in the same spirit for a Catholic general 
			in the Thirty Years’ War addressing a hostile Protestant army. 
			Imagine Wallenstein or Tilly, moved by some unwonted spirit of pious 
			oratory, addressing the soldiers of Gustavus Adolphus:- 
			 
			"We have a pope who sits in Peter’s chair, bishops and priests 
			ministering unto the Lord, in the true apostolical succession. The 
			sacrifice of the Mass is daily offered; matins, lauds, vespers; and 
			compline are all duly celebrated; our churches are fragrant with 
			incense and glorious with stained glass and images; we have 
			crucifixes, and lamps, and candles; and our priests are fitly 
			clothed in ecclesiastical vestments; for we observe the traditions 
			of the Church, but ye have forsaken the Divine order. Behold, God is 
			with us at our head; and we have banners blessed by the Pope. O ye 
			Swedes, ye fight against God; ye shall not prosper." 
			 
			As Protestants we may find it difficult to sympathies with the 
			feelings of a devout Romanist or even with those of a faithful 
			observer of the complicated Mosaic ritual. We could not construct so 
			close a parallel to Abijah’s speech in terms of any Protestant order 
			of service, and yet the objections which any modern denomination 
			feels to departures from its own forms of worship rest on the same 
			principles as those of Abijah. In the abstract the speech teaches 
			two main lessons: the importance of an official and duly accredited 
			ministry and of a suitable and authoritative ritual. These 
			principles are perfectly general, and are not confined to what is 
			usually known as sacerdotalism and ritualism. Every Church has in 
			practice some official ministry, even those Churches that profess to 
			owe their separate existence to the necessity for protesting against 
			an official ministry. Men whose chief occupation is to denounce 
			priestcraft may themselves be saturated with the sacerdotal spirit. 
			Every Church too, has its ritual. The silence of a Friends’ meeting 
			is as much a rite as the most elaborate genuflection before a highly 
			ornamented altar. To regard either the absence or presence of rites 
			as essential is equally ritualistic. The man who leaves his wonted 
			place of worship because "Amen" is sung at the end of a hymn is as 
			bigoted a ritualist as his brother who dare not pass an altar 
			without crossing himself. Let us then consider the chronicler’s two 
			principles in this broad sense. The official ministry of Israel 
			consisted of the priests and Levites, and the chronicler counted it 
			a proof of the piety of the Jews that they adhered to this ministry 
			and did not admit to the priesthood any one who could bring a young 
			bullock and seven rams. The alternative was not between a hereditary 
			priesthood and one open to any aspirant with special spiritual 
			qualifications, but between a duly trained and qualified ministry on 
			the one hand and a motley crew of the forerunners of Simon Magus on 
			the other. It is impossible not to sympathies with the chronicler. 
			To begin with, the property qualification was too low. If livings 
			are to be purchased at all, they should bear a price commensurate 
			with the dignity and responsibility of the sacred office. A mere 
			entrance fee, so to speak, of a young bullock and seven rams must 
			have flooded Jeroboam’s priesthood with a host of adventurers, to 
			whom the assumption of the office was a matter of social or 
			commercial speculation. The private adventure system of providing 
			for the ministry of the word scarcely tends to either the dignity or 
			the efficiency of the Church. But, in any case, it is not desirable 
			that mere worldly gifts, money, social position, or even intellect 
			should be made the sole passports to Christian service; even the 
			traditions and education of a hereditary priesthood would be more 
			probable channels of spiritual qualifications. 
			 
			Another point that the chronicler objects to in Jeroboam’s priests 
			is the want of any other than a property qualification. Any one who 
			chose could be a priest. Such a system combined what might seem 
			opposite vices. It preserved an artificial ministry; these 
			self-appointed priests formed a clerical order; and yet it gave no 
			guarantee whatever of either fitness or devotion. The chronicler, on 
			the other hand, by the importance he attaches to the Levitical 
			priesthood, recognizes the necessity of an official ministry, but is 
			anxious that it should be guarded with jealous care against the 
			intrusion of unsuitable persons. A conclusive argument for an 
			official ministry is to be found in its formal adoption by most 
			Churches and its uninvited appearance in the rest. We should not now 
			be contented with the safeguards against unsuitable ministers to be 
			found in hereditary succession; the system of the Pentateuch would 
			be neither acceptable nor possible in the nineteenth century: and 
			yet, if it had been perfectly administered, the Jewish priesthood 
			would have been worthy of its high office, nor were the times ripe 
			for the substitution of any better system. Many of the 
			considerations which justify hereditary succession in a 
			constitutional monarchy might be adduced in defense of a hereditary 
			priesthood. Even now, without any pressure of law or custom, there 
			is a certain tendency towards hereditary succession in the 
			ministerial office. It would be easy to name distinguished ministers 
			who were inspired for the high calling by their fathers’ devoted 
			service, and who received an invaluable preparation for their 
			life-work from the Christian enthusiasm of a clerical household. The 
			clerical ancestry of the Wesleys is only one among many 
			illustrations of an inherited genius for the ministry. 
			 
			But though the best method of obtaining a suitable ministry varies 
			with changing circumstances, the chronicler’s main principle is of 
			permanent and universal application. The Church has always felt a 
			just concern that the official representatives of its faith and 
			order should commend themselves to every man’s conscience in the 
			sight of God. The prophet needs neither testimonials nor official 
			status: the word of the Lord can have free course without either; 
			but the appointment or election to ecclesiastical office entrusts 
			the official with the honor of the Church and in a measure of its 
			Master. 
			 
			The chronicler’s other principle is the importance of a suitable and 
			authoritative ritual. We have already noticed that any order of 
			service that is fixed by the constitution or custom of a Church 
			involves the principle of ritual. Abijah’s speech does not insist 
			that only the established ritual should be tolerated; such questions 
			had not come within the chronicler’s horizon. The merit of Judah lay 
			in possessing and practicing a legitimate ritual, that is to say in 
			observing the Pauline injunction to do all things decently and in 
			order: The present generation is not inclined to enforce any very 
			stringent obedience to Paul’s teaching, and finds it difficult to 
			sympathize with Abijah’s enthusiasm for the symbolism of worship. 
			But men today are not radically different from the chronicler’s 
			contemporaries, and it is as legitimate to appeal to spiritual 
			sensibility through the eye as through the ear; architecture and 
			decoration are neither more nor less spiritual than an attractive 
			voice and impressive elocution. Novelty and variety have, or should 
			have, their legitimate place in public worship; but the Church has 
			its obligations to those who have more regular spiritual wants. Most 
			of us find much of the helpfulness of public worship in the 
			influence of old and familiar spiritual associations, which can only 
			be maintained by a measure of permanence and fixity in Divine 
			service. The symbolism of the Lord’s Supper never loses its 
			freshness, and yet it is restful because familiar and impressive 
			because ancient. On the other hand, the maintenance of this ritual 
			is a constant testimony to the continuity of Christian life and 
			faith. Moreover, in this rite the great bulk of Christendom finds 
			the outward and visible sign of its unity. 
			 
			Ritual, too, has its negative value. By observing the Levitical 
			ordinances the Jews were protected from the vagaries of any 
			ambitious owner of a young bullock and seven rams. While we grant 
			liberty to all to use the form of worship in which they find most 
			spiritual profit, we need to have Churches whose ritual will be 
			comparatively fixed. Christians who find themselves most helped by 
			the more quiet and regular methods of devotion naturally look to a 
			settled order of service to protect them from undue and distracting 
			excitement. 
			 
			In spite of the wide interval that separates the modern Church from 
			Judaism, we can still discern a unity of principle, and are glad to 
			confirm the judgment of Christian experience from the lessons of an 
			older and different dispensation. But we should do injustice to the 
			chronicler’s teaching if we forgot that for his own times his 
			teaching was capable of much more definite and forcible application. 
			Christianity and Islam have purified religious worship throughout 
			Europe, America, and a large portion of Asia. We are no longer 
			tempted by the cruel, loathsome rites of heathenism. The Jews knew 
			the wild extravagance, gross immorality, and ruthless cruelty of 
			Phoenician and Syrian worship. If we had lived in the chronicler’s 
			age and had shared his experience of idolatrous rites, we should 
			have also shared his enthusiasm for the pure and lofty ritual of the 
			Pentateuch. We should have regarded it as a Divine barrier between 
			Israel and the abominations of heathenism, and should have been 
			jealous for its strict observance. 
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