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Context No. 3270 of 4322 · 2 Maccabees

Context · Reflection

2 Maccabees 1:18-23: in context

18Since we are now about to celebrate the purification of the temple in the month Chislev, on the twenty-fifth day, we thought it necessary to notify you, so that you may also keep a feast of tabernacles, and remember the fire which was given when Nehemiah offered sacrifices, after he had built both the temple and the altar. 19For indeed when our fathers were about to be led into the land of Persia, the godly priests of that time took some of the fire of the altar, and hid it secretly in the hollow of a well that was without water, where they made sure that the place was unknown to anyone. 20Now after many years, when it pleased God, Nehemiah, having received a charge from the king of Persia, sent in quest of the fire the descendants of the priests who hid it. When they declared to us that they had found no fire, but thick liquid, 21he commanded them to draw some of it out and bring it to him. When the sacrifices had been offered, Nehemiah commanded the priests to sprinkle with that liquid both the wood and the things laid on it. 22When that was done and some time had passed, and the sun shone out, which before was hidden with clouds, a great blaze was kindled, so that all men marveled. 23The priests made a prayer while the sacrifice was being consumed—both the priests and all the others. Jonathan led and the rest responded, as Nehemiah did.

A letter about the temple's rededication recalls a strange and lovely story. Before the exile, godly priests hid the sacred altar fire in the hollow of a dry well, keeping its place secret. Generations later, when the exiles returned, Nehemiah's men found not fire but a thick liquid where it had been. Poured on the sacrifice and struck by the sun, it burst into a great blaze, and all marveled.

The point is preservation through the long dark of exile. What seemed lost, reduced to a strange residue, was not lost after all; God had kept the fire, and rekindled it when the time came. It is a picture of hope for anything that seems to have died out during a long season away, a faith gone cold, a calling that faded, a community scattered. What looks extinguished may only be hidden, waiting. God can rekindle what appears dead, in his own time, and turn a strange residue back into flame.

Is there something in me that seems to have died out during a long, dark season, and can I trust God to rekindle the fire he has quietly preserved?

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