This golden lampstand tells us of the fatal effect of neglecting the Church's and the individual's duty.
Where is the seven-branched candlestick of the second Temple? No one knows. Possibly, according to one statement, it lies at the bottom of the Mediterranean. Certainly we know that it is pictured on that sad panel in the conqueror's arch at Rome, and that it became a trophy of the insolent victor. It disappeared, and the Israel whom it vainly endeavored through the centuries to stir to a consciousness of its vocation, has never since had a gleam of light to ray out into the world. Where are the seven candlesticks, which made a blessed unity because Christ walked in their midst? Where are the churches of Ephesus, Smyrna, Philadelphia, Thyatira, and the rest? Where they stood the mosque is reared, and from its minaret day by day rings out--not the proclamation of the Name, but--There is no God but God, and Mahomet is His Prophet.' The Pharos that ought to have shone out over stormy seas has been seized by wreckers, and its light is blinded, and false lights lure the mariner to the shoals and to shipwreck.
Take heed lest He also spare not thee.' O brethren! is it not a bitter irony to call us lights of the world ? Let us penitently recognize the inconsistencies of our lives, and the reticence of our speech. Let us not lose sight of the high ideal, that we may the more penitently recognize the miserable falling short of our reality. And let us be thankful that th6 Priest is tending the lamps. He will not quench the smoking wick,' but will replenish it with oil, and fan the dying flame. Only let us not resist His ministrations, which are always gentle, even when He removes the charred blackness that hinder our being what we should be, and may be, if we will--lights of the world. Arise! shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee.'
