"_Pray for the peace of Jerusalem._" --PSALM cxxii.
And my Jerusalem is "the church of the living God." Do I carry her on my heart? Do I praise God for her heritage, and for her endowment of spiritual glory? And do I remember her perils, especially those parts of her walls where the defences are very thin, and can be easily broken through? Yes, has my Church any place in my prayer, or am I robbing her of part of her intended possessions?
And is the _entire_ Jerusalem the subject of my supplication? Or do I only think of a corner of it, just that part where my own little synagogue is placed? I am a Congregationalist; do I remember the Anglican? I am an Anglican; do I remember the Quaker? Am I thus concerned only with a small section of Jerusalem, or does my intercession sweep the entire city?
"_They shall prosper that love thee._" I cannot be healthy if I am bereft of fellowship. If I ignore the house of prayer I impoverish my home. The peaceful glow of the fireside is not unrelated to the coals upon the common altar. The sacrament is connected with my ordinary meal. To love the Church of Christ is to become enriched with "the fulness of Christ."
AUGUST The Nineteenth
PSALM xxiii.
This little psalm has been called the nightingale of the psalms. It sings "in the shade when all things rest." It makes music in the darkness; it gives me "songs in the night." And what does it sing about?
It sings of God's bounty in food and rest. "_Green pastures_"; "_still waters_." My Lord knows when my heart is faint, when it needs His reviving food. He knows when my heart is tired and needs His sweet rest. "_He restoreth my soul._"
And it sings of the God-appointed way across the hill. "_He leadeth me in paths of righteousness._" He makes the right way clear. He walks the path of duty with me. "_Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me._"
And it sings of the feast which the Lord serves in the very midst of my foes. "_He spreadeth a table before me in the midst of mine enemies._" He gives me the fat things of grace in the very presence of frowning circumstances.
And it sings of the providence _which guards the rear_. "Goodness and mercy shall follow me!" God's grace comes between me and my yesterdays. It cuts off the heredity from the old Adam, and no far-off plague comes nigh my dwelling.
AUGUST The Twentieth