We sometimes make a great mistake in neglecting to remark the presence and operation of God in the ordinary and secular affairs of life. The Hebrews were in this respect in advance of us; they justly attributed all wise and good works to that Spirit from whom all wisdom and goodness proceed. Thus the workers in the construction of the tabernacle are expressly said to have received from the Spirit of God the knowledge and skill they needed to fulfil their undertaking, and in the passage before us David is represented as having received by inspiration from Heaven the plans upon which his son was to erect the temple of Jehovah.

I. THE PLAN OF EVERY GREAT AND GOOD WORK IS FROM GOD. That is, so far as it is good and great. There is human ignorance and human folly discernible in many noble enterprises; but the impulse of piety or benevolence to which they owe their being is from above. This is so either, as probably in the case before us, from a direct inspiration, or, as is usually the case, in a more ordinary manner. The inspiration of the Almighty giveth man understanding; and every high and holy purpose, every inspiriting truth and influence, should be traced up to the Giver of every good gift and every perfect gift.

II. SUCH PLANS SHOULD THEN BE FORMED WITH REVERENCE AND WITH PRAYER. If we would have the Spirit's guidance, we must ourselves be "filled with the Spirit;" we must seek his teaching in humility and docility of heart.

III. SUCH PLANS SHOULD BE CARRIED OUT WITH EARNESTNESS, AND WITH A LOWLY DEPENDENCE UPON THE GRACE AND AID OF GOD. In these respects the kings of Israel, who were concerned in the erection of the temple, stand before us as a bright example. It is only as all our works are "begun, continued, and ended" in God, that we can justly hope for blessing and prosperity. - T.

David not only made preparation for the building of the temple by collecting material, but he gave to Solomon definite directions for completing the erection and constructing the sacred vessels, and in doing this he is careful to say that he did not follow his own ideas or adopt arbitrary plans, but that he was guided by Divine revelation. Is not this the essential thing with us in this ministry — that we should be authorised, led, energised by the self-same Spirit? Does not the Church demand that the preacher shall be an inspired man?

I. The NATURE of this inspiration. "All this the Lord made me to understand by His hand upon me." Now, I am sure you will not at this moment expect from me any exact definition of the term inspiration. There are some words you cannot define. You cannot define such words as love, or life, or beauty. Neither will you expect me to distinguish between the inspiration of Isaiah and that of Shakespeare, or between the inspiration of David building the temple and that of Michael Angelo building St. Peter's; the singularity of the prophet and preacher is that they have to do not with the intellectual and material worlds, but with the spiritual universe, with the relation of man to the living God, and to that eternal universe of which He is the centre.

1. The true preacher is a man of faith. God revealed to David the patterns of the temple building and furniture. In vision he beheld the forms that he was to body forth in silver and gold and cedar. He did not follow his own vagrant fancy, but he made all the sacred things according to the patterns seen in his exalted mood. There is a faculty of sight which is more profound and penetrating than any power of sense. This is manifest in the intellectual world. The poet, the painter, and the musician possess a faculty that beggars sense; they look upon a world that is unseen by the natural eye. Now, just as these rare spirits of the intellectual realm possess an imaginative faculty that transcends the tangible and technical world, a faculty that beggars sense, so the true preacher has a faculty that beggars imagination, a faculty of faith that penetrates depths beyond space and worlds beyond reason. The true preacher possesses spiritual imagination by which he discerns everywhere the spiritual fact. In man he finds the image of God; behind this world he discerns the eternal world; within history he traces the working of a Divine plan and purpose; in the Church he is conscious of God's presence and love; and he feels the power of that immortal life of which this life iii the germ, and for which this life is the preparation. This is the grand gift of the true preacher: in an eminent degree he possesses that faith which is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

2. Again, the true preacher is a man of experience. David did not proceed by simply reduplicating the forms and arrangements of the tabernacle. God granted him an inward revelation, he had a vision that was inwrought into his very soul. "The Lord made me understand by His hand upon me, even all the works of this pattern." This means something more than a superficial knowledge, than a mere spectacle; it implies a vivid, profound, personal acquaintance with the things he was called upon to fashion and arrange. It means something more than a passing dream; the objective became the subjective; David realised God's purpose as an inward and joyful experience. His soul entered into the vision, the vision entered into his soul. And if the preacher is to be effective, the subjects of his preaching must be living facts to his own mind and heart. There is a whole world of difference between the mere intellectual perception of a doctrine and the realisation of that doctrine in our own conscience and feeling. Just think of the dweller in a city who knows the seasons only as they appear in the almanac! Spring quarter begins; bits of information and hints about summer gardening; stray allusions to harvest; and then the record closes with prognostications of winter's storms and snows. The almanac gives much information — varied, exact, useful information; you seem, indeed, to know all about the thing. Do you? Ah! it is a very different matter to know the seasons as they actually unfold in nature. And so it is one thing to know religion formally in a theological treatise, and another thing to know its power and sweetness and hope in your own soul. Notice —

II. The LIMITS of this inspiration. "The Lord made me understand in writing." The question arises as to what is precisely to be understood by this writing. Some think it teaches that David simply followed the law of Moses. Moses, as we learn in the book of Exodus, received the measures and plans of the tabernacle from God Himself, and all that David did, these commentators think, was to follow severely these ancient specifications in the instructions which he gave to Solomon. David follows the writing from Jehovah's hand given to Moses. Other students think that this explanation of the passage is wholly mistaken. They hold that David affirms that he received an altogether special revelation. Just as the Lord had formerly shown to Moses the pattern of the tabernacle, so did the Lord also make known by revelation to David the pattern of the temple and its furniture. It seems to me that neither interpretation expresses the real situation — a middle view seems the juster. The description given in Exodus of the sacred utensils evidently furnished the groundwork for the workmanship of David, but what he teaches here is that it was under the guidance of the Divine Spirit that he varied the sacred architecture and furniture to suit the changed conditions of the new temple. He did not work either independently or arbitrarily, but modified the structure and the vessels by the authority of the Spirit who first instituted them. The grand teaching of the whole situation being this, that in the entire work of the temple we must be governed by Divine revelation, but that at the same time we must be sensitive to the action of the Spirit of God, so that we may interpret the Scriptures and modify ecclesiastical organisations according to the changing needs of successive generations. Does not the preacher of to-day need to learn the lesson taught here? One of our great dangers is a literalism which denies all further revelation or inspiration. We must beware lest we doom ourselves to a barren literalism. But, on the other hand, there are others who assume entire independence of revelation. They affirm that men are still as fully inspired as Moses was, or Isaiah, or John, or Paul, and that it is an injustice to ourselves to yield exclusive reverence to the sacred oracles. What, then, is the true path here? We answer, the path followed by the King of Israel in our text. We must reverentially accept the fully-accredited revelation that God has secured to us, and under the influence of the Holy Spirit give that revelation new and fuller expression as the evolution of the race may require. We must be true to the Scriptures, and true also to the Spirit that gives to the written word concurrent adaptation. Only as we follow this delicate line shall we be truly orthodox and yet remain full of reality, power, and effectiveness. A great artist does not attempt to get rid of nature; if he were to yield to such licentiousness his images would become bizarre, his poetry unintelligible, and his music degenerate into a monstrous melody; the sincere artist is therefore profoundly true to the forms, the colours, and the sequences of nature, he gives place to no arbitrary ideas. But, at the same time, he is not literal, topographical, prosaic; he seizes the essential truth of the physical universe, and gives it free rendering and bold representation. It is much the same with the preacher. He is profoundly loyal to God's Word, but in the light and liberty of the Spirit he freely handles the eternal truth, and makes it speak to the heart of the congregation. It is God's message to this generation that is expected from you. Be able to say, "The Lord made me understand this by His hand upon me," and your word shall be in power and blessing.

III. The CONDITIONS of this inspiration.

1. We must watch against the temper of unbelief. We discern a thing only when we are in the mood to see it, to hear it, to know it. And it is entirely true that we apprehend the things of the higher world and the higher life just as we have a certain affinity with them. I deny altogether that the mood of doubt is the becoming mood of a theologian. The mood of the artist is the receptive mood. We are sometimes told how some grand melody, picture, or poem originated in a most trivial incident, but this only shows how exceedingly delicate was the susceptibility of the artist; he must have possessed a peculiar alertness and responsiveness of soul. A cold, critical temper would mean a poor artist. Did not Columbus expect to see America? Is America, therefore, a baseless fabric? Columbus saw America because he was prepared to see it, and the true attitude to unknown worlds is the expectant attitude of the astronomer looking for a star mathematically inferred, but not hitherto seen, of the chemist searching for an element indicated, but not yet demonstrated. We lose much by cherishing the spirit of doubt. Preachers are men who ought to live in the mood of meditation and susceptibility — waiting, listening, looking, hoping; and so does God whisper into their wakened ear great and gracious truths.

2. We must be on our guard against the spirit of worldliness. It has been noticed that the greatest naturalists, poets, and philosophers are singularly unworldly men. It seems as if they can see the rarer beauty of the world, hear the music of the spheres, catch the subtler suggestions of phenomena only as they are free from all secularity of spirit. The best and the highest of the things that are seen are discerned and appreciated only by men cleansed from the spirit of greed, and pride, and self. And this in a very high degree is true of the preacher. It is only when the eye is single that the whole body is full of light.

3. We must watch against sensuality. "Sensual, not having the Spirit," writes the apostle. Now sensual indulgence clouds the genius of the artist and the scholar. Hugh Miller tells us that when he was a young man he one day drank some liquor, and on turning to read Milton found himself incapable of appreciating the great master. So any form of sensuality renders the spiritual man incapable of influentially realising the great discoveries of revelation. Sensual thought makes the higher perceptions impossible, the gross film blinds the eye of the soul. Purity of thought and feeling are essential to a really great preacher. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they see the best of everything, and they possess a wonderful faculty for making other people feel the power and charm of truth and goodness. We have spoken this morning of the patterns God showed to Moses and to David, but we must remember that He has shown to us another order of patterns, sublimer far than archetypes of architecture and upholstery. God who in times past spake unto the fathers by the prophets hath in these latter days spoken unto us by His Son. Our Lord Jesus Christ has taken us into the Mount and shown us patterns of things in the heavens. Study the New Testament and you will find set forth with clearness the ultimate moral ideals after which the ages have blindly striven. At Nazareth and Bethany you see the ideal home. You have seen the ideal Church when you have seen Christ dwelling with His disciples. And, more than all, comprehending all, you behold the supreme ideal of character, "We see Jesus." All the great ideals are in "this writing by His hand," not "the shadow of heavenly things," but "the very substance of the things."

(W. L. Watkinson.)