Moses Sermon Illustrations

Moses Sermon Illustrations

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Moses, the patriot fierce, became
The meekest man on earth,
To show us how love's quick'ning flame
Can give our souls new birth.

Moses, the man of meekest heart,
Lost Canaan by self-will,
To show, where grace has done its part,
How sin defies us still.

Thou, who hast taught me in Thy fear,
Yet sees me frail at best,
O grant me loss with Moses here,
To gain his future rest!—John Henry Newman

(Num. 12. 3; Ps. 105. 26; 106. 32, 33)

Education of Moses

Dr. Flinders Petrie was the greatest archaeologist of modern times, and his work opened the way for our knowledge of ancient Egypt. Other Egyptologists also rendered great service in this field of study. Dr. Smith in the Moody Monthly referred to this and, quoting from Dr. Petrie's book, The Wisdom of the Egyptians, he gives some idea of how large may have been the range of knowledge acquired by Moses in Egypt. The Egyptians studied: observational Astronomy, instrumental Astronomy, Arithmetic and Geometry, Writing, Drawing and Design, Musical Instruments, Building, Minerology, Chemistry, Metal Working, Agriculture, Transport, etc. The subject-headings dealt with in the chapter on Instrumental Astronomy are—the sun's altitude, star observation, constellations, planets, the Zodiac, transits, and so on. A formidable list!—Indian Christian

(Acts 7. 22)

Funeral of Moses

By Nebo's lonely mountain,
On this side Jordan's wave,
In a vale in the land of Moab
There lies a lonely grave.
And no man knows the sepulchre,
And no man saw it e'er,
For the angels of God upturned the sod
And laid the dead man there.

That was the grandest funeral
That ever passed on earth;
But no man heard the trampling
Or saw the train go forth—
Noiselessly as the daylight
Comes back when night is done,
And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek
Grows into the great sun.

Noiselessly as the springtime
Her crown of verdure weaves,
And all the trees on all the hills
Open their thousand leaves;
So without sound of music,
Or voice of them that wept,
Silently down from the mountain's crown
The great procession swept.

Perchance the bald old eagle,
On grey Beth-peor's height,
Out of his lonely eyrie
Looked on the wondrous sight;
Perchance the lion stalking,
Still shuns that hallowed spot,
For beast and bird have seen and heard
That which man knoweth not.

This was the truest warrior
That ever buckled sword;
This the most gifted poet
That ever breathed a word.
And never earth's philosopher
Traced with his golden pen
On the deathless page truths half so sage
As he wrote down for men.

And had he not high honor?—
The hill-side for a pall,
To lie in state while angels wait,
With stars for tapers tall;
And the dark rock-pines, like tossing plumes,
Over his bier to wave,
And God's own hand in that lonely land
To lay him in the grave.

In that strange grave without a name,
Whence his uncoffined clay
Shall break again, O wondrous thought!
Before the judgment day,
And stand with glory wrapt around
On the hills he never trod;
And speak of the strife that won our life,
With the incarnate Son of God.

O lonely grave in Moab's land!
O dark Beth-peor's hill!
Speak to these curious hearts of ours,
And teach them to be still.
God bath His mysteries of grace,
Ways that we cannot tell;
He hides them deep, like the hidden sleep
Of him He loved so well.—Cecil F. Alexander (two stanzas omitted)

(Deut. 34. 6)

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