Edward Eli Seelye

The Smoking Furnace and Burning Lamp.

AND IT CAME TO PASS, THAT WHEN THE SUN WENT DOWN, AND IT WAS DARK, BEHOLD A SMOKING FURNACE, AND A BURNING LAMP THAT PASSED BETWEEN THOSE PIECES. Gen. 15:17.

The scene here described between Jehovah and the patriarch is one of awful and mysterious interest. Long ago, when he came out of Ur of the Chaldees, God promised blessings to Abram and his posterity. But as yet there were no signs of the fulfilment. Many years had since rolled by, years of fluctuations and trials. The stirring events of the war of the four kings and the deliverance of Lot were brought to a close; and Abram had once more retired to a quiet pastoral life, rich, honored, powerful among the surrounding tribes.

But though he had grown great, there was one corroding care which preyed upon his heart. Ah, what condition of human life is there, which has not its secret sorrow? What house so bright as never to have a shadow across its hearth? Abram was treading along the vale of years, childless and a stranger. Eliezer of Damascus seemed likely to inherit his vast possessions.

At this period, when Abram’s anxiety deepened, and hope began to grow impatient, God appeared again to him in vision, and renewed his covenant promises. And in answer to the patriarch’s request for some outward sign or ratification, the Most High directed him to slay a heifer, a she-goat, and a ram, and divide the parts, and set them the one over against the other, that one might pass between the parts.

In ancient times the ratification of covenants was attended by the most solemn rites, in which the contracting parties participated. In the 34th chapter of Jeremiah there is an explicit reference to a ceremony like the one here described: “And I will give the men that have transgressed my covenant, which have not performed the words of the covenant which they made before me, when they cut the calf in twain and passed between the parts thereof—the princes of Judah, and the princes of Jerusalem, the eunuchs, and the priests, and all the people of the land, which passed between the parts of the calf—I will even give them into the hand of their enemies.” In these solemnities the contracting party or parties passed between the parts of the slain victim, in token of their full assent to the stipulations made, imprecating upon themselves a most bitter curse if they should violate them. The ceremony was of the nature of a most solemn oath.

Nor was it confined to the Israelitish nation alone, but similar rites were observed among other people. In the third Book of the Iliad, Homer describes the solemn ratification of the covenant between the Greeks and the Trojans, according to the terms of which Menelaus and Paris were to determine the great quarrel between them in single combat. Victims were slain, their heads distributed among the chiefs of the hostile parties, their palpitating limbs placed opposite to each other on the ground, while the officiating priest uttered a prayer to Jupiter, accompanied by a most awful imprecation upon any one who should break the solemn oath. Livy also, the Roman historian, records a like solemnity on the occasion when the Roman and Alban nation agreed to settle their contest by the combat of the three Horatii and the three Curiatii. Then too the Roman priest slew the victim, and called Jupiter to witness their vows, and strike the violator as he struck the victim.

In this fifteenth chapter of Genesis, the sacred writer describes a sacred institution, which Homer, a thousand years later, found among the Greeks; and the Roman historian, still later, records as in use among his countrymen. The intent, or meaning of the solemnity, was evident. Abram well understood it; for without any particular instruction recorded, he prepared the sacrifice.

It must have been a day of overwhelming interest to the patriarch. Early in the morning God directed him to make his preparations. He obeyed with promptness, and slew the animals, and arranged their parts upon the ground. Having passed between them himself, thus acknowledging his obligations in the covenant, he sat down alone to wait for Jehovah to signify his presence. What strange, unearthly thoughts revolved in his anxious mind! What a condition for a creature to be in—a lonely man watching for God to come!

The day wore by; the sun was far down the west; the shadows were deepening on the earth: the weary patriarch dropped his head upon his breast, and slept. A horror of great darkness fell upon him; and then came a vision and a voice, which revealed to him the future. When this had passed, night had set in; and in the darkness the weary watcher waited, near the limbs of his slain victims, for Jehovah to reveal his presence and seal his promises, till at length, through the thickening gloom and spectral silence, the Shechinah is discovered, moving in awful majesty near the sacrifice. A smoking furnace and a burning lamp passed between those pieces.

Abram understood it all: God’s visible presence was before him; Jehovah had ratified his covenant; the deed was done. The patriarch was satisfied. He had not been imposed upon by his fancy; he had not been deceived by some ignis fatuus. It was Jehovah’s presence he had looked upon; it was Jehovah’s own doings, making his covenant sure to him.

Yet all he saw was a smoking furnace and a burning lamp pass between the pieces. He heard no voice; he saw no living personal form: but that appearance before him was Jehovah’s sign. He doubted not a moment; he asked for nothing more. It is evident that the manner in which God signified his presence on this occasion had a peculiar significance in it, that there was a peculiar fitness in the form which he assumed—a smoking furnace and a burning lamp—rather than some other visible form.

We believe that these signs indicated not only that Jehovah was there, but who that Jehovah was. They exhibit God as hiding, and yet revealing himself. The smoking furnace, dimly visible, and followed by the burning lamp, presents the side which the Almighty turns towards us, marked by obscurity, and light. The Most High is known, and yet unknown; revealed to us, and yet concealed.

And we believe that a correct view of God, as exhibited to us in his word and providence, will correspond with the view which the patriarch had of him in the loneliness and darkness of that night, when He sealed His covenant with him.

We hold that in the goings forth of his providential government for thousands of years, and in the utterance of his word, there are the same traces of light and obscurity, of concealment and illumination, which were symbolized to Abram; and the same God who passed between the pieces of his sacrifice under the form of a smoking furnace and a burning lamp, is still passing before us all in a like manner.

Such is the Almighty whenever he turns himself towards us. And while I gaze with the patriarch upon the awful solemnities of that hour, that smoking furnace and burning lamp seem to move, not only across that spot, but over the ages and the world, and indicate the presence and the doings of God in all the conduct of his government.Turn first to the written revelation which he has made to us through prophet and evangelist. In the very first promise made to man after the fall, so dim yet cheering, did he not pass before Adam much as he did before the patriarch? In that promise of the seed of the woman bruising the serpent’s head, so vague, so indefinite and obscure, there seems at first only the smoking furnace; but while we steadily look at it, it brightens into a burning lamp, which beckons faith to look down the future and hope for deliverance from the curse.

In all that God has revealed of himself and his purposes in his word, he passes before us in mystery as well as light. He lifts the veil but a little way; he allows us to see but a part of his plans and doings.

The prophetic parts of the Old Testament Scriptures illustrate this blending of obscurity and light. The predictions of a coming Messiah were clear, and yet mysterious; so that the Jews failed utterly to interpret them aright, or to recognize Him when He appeared as “He of whom Moses and the prophets did write.” Those predictions now appear plain to us, for we study them in the clear light of their fulfilment.

In like manner, other prophecies of great events which have already been accomplished—as the Babylonish captivity, the overthrow of ancient cities and kingdoms, and the destruction of Jerusalem—now seem to us most graphic and distinct, because history and facts have thrown their light upon them. But of those prophecies which yet await their fulfilment, how true is it that a veil of obscurity still rests upon them. How various and conflicting have been the theories of those who have anxiously studied them. The restoration of the Jews, the destruction of antichrist, the second coming of Christ, the millennium reign—these and the like subjects have taxed the ingenuity of the learned for ages. Yet all have failed to find out the Almighty’s specific programme, or to tell beforehand what shall be the exact fulfilment. The God of prophecy passes before us as a smoking furnace, and a burning lamp.

The strictly doctrinal portions of God’s word exhibit him to us in this twofold attitude of obscurity and of light. Plainly enough has he revealed to us our duty. Clear and authoritative is his voice, speaking to us in the Decalogue. The burning lamp shines clear and steady through all the preceptive deliverances of the Scriptures; but ah, the great questions and paradoxes which have perplexed the human soul in all ages, the unsolved problems of natural religion over which thought has wearied and despaired, are left unanswered. How sin could be allowed to enter a moral system; the harmony of the divine foreknowledge with human freedom; the election of grace; man’s moral helplessness and responsibility—these and such like subjects remain unexplained. Revelation does not attempt to lift the mysterious cloud which still hangs over them. Jehovah condescends to no explanation of his doings; nor by a single word does he seek to vindicate the infinite wisdom of his administration. Clouds and darkness are round about him. With none of us does he take counsel. The great truths of revelation reach beyond our grasp. We see but in part, and we know but in part. The gospel brings us near to God; but even there he covereth the face of his throne. The intermingling of obscurity and light which was symbolized by the smoking furnace and the burning lamp, characterizes the entire field of the Almighty’s revelations.

2. God, as manifested in his providential government, is properly exhibited to us in the imagery of the text. His ways are past finding out. When we contemplate the world at any particular period, we are lost in confusion and perplexity. We feel assured that the Almighty governs; but his purposes are hidden. Mankind seem scarcely to notice his presence. Seldom can we detect his controlling hand. It is only by extending our observation over a wider field, and taking in the grand sweep of providence through successive generations, that we attain to the clear conceptions of his moral government. At first view, we see little of his movements, and they are indefinite and obscured, like the dim smoking furnace passing by us; but by a more patient and careful study we are enabled to discover that all the events which take place in the world are under the Almighty’s superintendence, and that, back of all the derangement and confusion of human affairs, there is an unseen but mighty hand bending the current of events, which by the interposition of checks and restraints and judgments makes the wrath of man to praise him.

Thus in the midst of all the darkness of providence, there is discoverable a plan of infinite wisdom. And he who humbly and devoutly meditates upon the progress of human events, detects the presence of the Almighty, ofttimes indeed vaguely, like the feeble glimmerings of the smoking furnace, but often distinctly and clearly, like the burning lamp. Thus does Jehovah, in his providence, move through the ages in much the same manner as he appeared to the patriarch, when the furnace and the lamp passed between the pieces of his sacrifice.

But why need we range abroad? Why look far away? Who that devoutly studies the ways of Providence towards himself, who that habitually contemplates what he has passed and is passing through, does not discover the Almighty wrapped in the same mysterious drapery which he wore when he appeared to Abram?

Yes; the smoking furnace and the burning lamp still pass before us, and shape our lives. How many times has God touched the hidden springs of action, and turned the current of our history! How often has he mysteriously hedged up our way, and disappointed us; made our surest calculations fail, our favorite plans miscarry! How has he led us by a way we knew not, and caused us to stand perplexed, bewildered, and alarmed at his unlooked-for interpositions! What sudden calamities have befallen us; what sore chastisements have come upon us! How many times has God’s face been hid in clouds! How often have we asked, What can his doings mean? Why does he scatter our possessions? Why is health prostrated, and we left to languish amid pains and sicknesses? Why did he let death make those little graves in the churchyard, where our darlings are sleeping, who used to fill our homes with sunshine, and paint rainbows in the clouds of life’s pilgrimage? Oh how many times are we perplexed at the Almighty’s doings! In such seasons of disappointment and affliction, we think upon God and are troubled. He passes before us in the thick gloom and darkness of the night of sorrow: about all we can see of him is a smoking furnace, with its smouldering embers, scarcely emitting from within a pale, faint, spectral gleam, while dim wreaths of clouds whirl and roll above it. God’s ways seem dark and impenetrable. Such are our first impressions.

But while we continue to gaze upon his doings, and follow out his providences to their conclusions; when, after Time with his soothing balm has assuaged the first sharp pangs of our wounded hearts, we study carefully the tendencies and results of God’s dispensations with us, Oh how often do the clouds break and scatter, and the deep mysteries of his dealings receive a new interpretation.

How many of our doubts and questions find an answer. How do future months and years vindicate the wisdom of those doings which we once thought could not be vindicated. How do we afterwards see that when God took away some blessings which we dearly loved, it was to make room for greater ones to come. When he stopped our way in some favorite pursuit of life, and beckoned us against our will in another path, he saved us from ruin and disasters which we were blind to. When he snatched our loved one away to heaven, he broke up the sinful idolatry which was ensnaring us, and called us heavenward too. When he dashed from our hand the cup of worldly prosperity we were pressing to our lips, it was because we were growing delirious under its draughts.

It is thus, while we calmly trace through successive years God’s doings, we begin to see the furnace grow luminous, and close behind it the burning lamp lights up the Almighty’s footsteps. We may not indeed comprehend the whole. We cannot clear up all the mystery that surrounds him. But though the furnace still continues to move and smoke before us, yet the lamp is ever going with it; and its cheering rays relieve the gloom, so that faith and hope can follow.Such is the method of God’s dealings with us all. He passes before us in mingled mystery and light. The longer we trace his doings, the clearer is the light. A hasty, superficial study of his providence leaves us in painful gloom and doubt. But a patient and humble attention to his plans reveals much to relieve our fears and inspire in a Christian a steady, trusting, joyous confidence.

We must never expect to arrive at a full and undimmed prospect here. We see but in part. But ah, I think I can see something in the gradual unfoldings of God’s providence, and in the steps the believer now passes through, which heralds a coming period when we shall see the whole. Even now the shadows grow fainter the longer we gaze. A grey light streaks the field of vision which was once in total darkness. Even now, when faith turns her eye out long and steady, night seems softening into morning. And from these phenomena I expect yet to see the whole. Even now, while I watch year after year, the furnace smokes less and less, the lamp burns stronger, brighter. And a little way beyond me heaven waits to welcome me, where I shall see as I am seen, and know as I am known. Oh blessed hope!

A little longer we follow where the furnace and the lamp lead the way; but when we arrive at yonder world the furnace will be left behind. No cloud and smoke there to obstruct our vision; but the lamp of fire alone remains. It is God’s unvailed glory illuminating the realms of bliss. Oh, weary pilgrim, keep close to the furnace as it moves before you like the pillar with which Jehovah led the twelve tribes in the desert, and it will guide you home. And then it will smoke no more; but the lamp of fire will never go out, for in its exhaustless splendor you shall spend an eternity of joy.

Our subject thus presented, furnishes materials for a few profitable reflections.

1. In this blending of mystery and light which characterizes God’s present manifestations, he has in view the promotion of his own glory. For the pure and unfallen inhabitants of heaven, it may be proper for him to unvail himself and his doings, and allow them to contemplate him in cloudless majesty; but when he turns himself to sinful creatures like us, it is becoming in him whom we have offended not to allow us to approach too near. A jealous reticence marks his revelations. His infinite glory and majesty impress our minds as deeply by what he hides from us, as by what he shows us. His silence is sometimes as awfully eloquent as his speech. The dim, smoking furnace often conveys to us ideas of his incomprehensible might and majesty and greatness as deeply as does the burning lamp.

2. The Most High has designed this obscure and mixed economy of his to be a source of moral discipline to us all.

It serves to check our arrogance and presumption, and promotes true humility. It teaches us that he has ways that are past our finding out, and that all our boasted wisdom is folly when compared with his. It tells vain man that he cannot tread in the Almighty’s footsteps, nor fathom his deep designs.

Our entire dependence too is thrust upon our convictions by this mode of the Almighty’s working. Often we are forced to feel that we cannot rely upon our own forecast and prudence. Our own will is not strong enough to shape events and make them subserve our wishes. God’s unseen hand is ever interfering, and reminding us that without his blessing we can do nothing.

And how too is faith tried and encouraged by this economy: tried when all we can see of God, many times, is like a smoking furnace, dark and obscure, when reason asks and gets no answers; and anon encouraged, when through the mystery there shines the burning lamp.

This present life is the great school of Christian faith. Where reason’s eyesight fails, faith can see the way. It can see but in part, it is true, for our earthly state answers well to the prophet Zechariah’s description: “And it shall come to pass in that day, that the light shall not be clear nor dark. But it shall be one day which shall be known to the Lord: not day, nor night; but it shall come to pass that at evening time it shall be light.”

Moreover, how adapted is our subject to cheer God’s people and prompt them to quiet, patient resignation under dark and afflictive providences. What if sometimes we can see nothing but the furnace smoking; we know that behind it somewhere is the lamp of fire.

How too are we impressed with the truth that there is something left for us to learn in heaven, something yet unrevealed which we do not see, but which we hope for, which makes us reconciled to the thought of leaving this dim, misty realm of time, and to wait in anxious expectation till the day break and the shadows flee away. Oh be content, Christian, a little longer to walk by faith, for by and by the smoking furnace will have passed away for ever, and heaven will welcome you to its cloudless revelations.

Learn to walk humbly before that God who surrounds your path. See him in the clearest form in which he has revealed himself, even in the incarnate Son our Saviour. Through him alone can we approach the Father. Through him alone can we hope to see his face, and obtain salvation and deliverance from his wrath.