The Prophets of Baal by Mrs. Lilla D. A. Stuttle

Pacific Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Oakland, California · Mar 14, 1878

The Prophets of Baal.

By Mrs. Lilla D. A. Stuttle

CALM and majestic, stands the man of God, Firm and undaunted, though he stands alone, With floating mantle round his towering form, Before the monarch on his gilded throne. A fearful message he has come to bring To fallen Israel's apostate king.

Like notes of thunder, sounds the prophet's voice To trembling Ahab, "Hear the word of God! My holy precepts hast thou heeded not, And under foot my sacred name hast trod. Thou'st bowed to idols, in thy stubborn pride, Until my wrath shall not be turned aside."

And, now, behold, thus saith the Lord of hosts, These years there neither shall be dew nor rain, The fiery sun shall pour his scorching rays In cloudless fervor o'er Samaria's plain, Till hill and valley shall be parched and dry, And earth shall wither 'neath the burning sky.

The haughty monarch hears the startling words, His ashy face bespeaks his awful fear, His guilty heart is full of sudden dread, And bitter hatred toward the holy seer; But e'er he rallies from his sore affright, The holy man has vanished from his sight.

Time passes on, with swift and noiseless tread, And one by one the sultry days go by, The burning sun still glimmers overhead, Till running brook and sparkling fount are dry, The brassy heavens give no sign of rain, And fruitful earth becomes a barren plain.

Gaunt famine shows her desolating face, Plagues follow on, in all their dread array, Till Israel's heart is filled with woe and pain, And all the land with anguish and dismay, While every lip grows tremulous and pale, And horror haunts the worshipers of Baal.

The frenzied priests with incantations wild Entreat their god with never ceasing cry, While on their pagan altars day and night The flames of sacrifice burn fierce and high. Though smeared with blood, their frantic cries are vain, And loud they wail o'er doomed Samaria's plain.

The groves of Baal, once so rank and green, Stand dry and leafless on Mount Carmel's hight, The grass is dead, the air is hot and dry, And suffocating dust obscures the sight, While man and beast fall prostrate one by one, Half mad with thirst beneath the burning sun!

Though two long years have rolled their tardy round, The haughty nation will not yet repent, But blindly gropes, 'mid heathen maze profound, Though all these dire calamities are sent. They charge their woes upon the man of God, Nor feel the justice of the chastening rod.

And proud queen Jezebel with hatred deep, Has sought Elijah over all the land; But 'tis in vain, for God will never give His holy seer into her cruel hand. In vengeance then she speaks the fearful word, That brings to death the prophets of the Lord.

Good Obadiah hears the queen's command, And quickly hastes the trembling men to save, With ardent zeal this humble man of God Conceals one hundred in a mountain cave, And every day from his own bounty fed, With tender care, the friendless prophets bread.

The months pass by, and good Elijah finds A safe asylum from his wary foes. Within a widow's humble cot he dwells, Where none can e'er his hiding place disclose, The Lord upholds him by his mighty arm, Directs his steps and shelters him from harm.

Jehovah's voice again the prophet hears, "Go show thyself to Israel's hardened king. For lo! once more I send refreshing rain, Till from the sod the grass and herbs shall spring, Till dreary nature wears a smile once more, And gladsome earth shall all her fruits restore."

Elijah hears, and hastens to obey. And once again to Israel's king he goes; A lonely man to brave a nation's wrath, And stands surrounded by his direst foes. But guilty Ahab dares not raise his arm, To do the prophet of Jehovah harm.

"Go, gather Israel at Carmel's mount." The mighty prophet speaks the stern command. With hurried speed swift messengers are sent, To every dweller in Samaria's land. With awe and wonder stamped on every face, With one consent they hasten to the place.

And when the sun in burning splendor sheds His morning glories o'er Samaria's vale, On Carmel's mountain filled with Israel's host, Stands Elijah 'mong the priests of Baal. With light and glory beaming in his eyes, And hands outstretched, the mighty prophet cries:—

"Ye men of Israel, why halt ye thus 'Tween two opinions? If the Lord be God, Acknowledge him, and give him all your praise, And bow with meekness 'neath his chast'ning rod. If Baal be God, exalt him in the land. Why longer thus 'tween two opinions stand?"

"Bring hither now two bullocks on the mount, And lay the one upon your altar there, But place no fire beneath the sacrifice, And Baal's priests shall offer up their prayer. The other beast, I, even I, will slay, And to Jehovah will I kneel and pray.

"And let the God that answereth by fire Have Israel's praise, before the day is done. But now consider ye, the priests of Baal Are forty score, while I am only one." Though Israel's heart to wickedness is wed, The people answered, "Thou hast well said."

The beast is slain, and on the altar laid, While Ahab's priests lie prostrate on the ground, With frantic prayers entreating Baal to hear, Till fearful cries o'er Carmel's bight resound; Thus, one by one, the dreary hours go by, And still their god will not regard their cry.

The fiery sun at last has sunk to rest. And shadows lengthen o'er Samaria's plains, Until the priests had ceased their frenzied cry, And perfect silence o'er Mount Carmel reigns. No longer echoes over hill and dale, The incantations of the seers of Baal.

And now Elijah with devoted zeal, The broken altar of the Lord repairs. With earnest courage and unfeigned faith, His sacrificial offering prepares. No shrieks discordant wildly sound abroad, As kneels in prayer the holy man of God.

"Lord God of Abraham, who rulest above, Who didst create the starry host on high, Make bare, I pray thee, thine Almighty arm, In mercy grant to hear thy servant's cry, Oh, Lord, my God, may it this day be known, Through Israel's hosts that thou art God alone."

The prayer is heard, and fire from God descends Swifter than light, from out the dazzling skies, Licks up the water round the altar poured, And quick consumes the waiting sacrifice. While evening zephyrs bear the cry abroad— From pallid lips—"The Lord, he is the God!"

And now the avenger's hand shall not be stayed, By Kishon's brook the prophets must be slain. Before the Lord will hear his servant's cry, And drop fresh showers on Samaria's plain. The seer fulfills the judgments of the Lord, And rain is sent according to his word.

The grateful earth again in beauty smiles, The trees grow green upon Mount Carmel's hight, And 'neath their shade sweet birds in gladness sing, And bubbling fountains burst upon the sight, Green grasses wave, and flowers of richest dye, Their beauties spread beneath the genial sky.

But good Elijah once again has fled From Ahab's fury, to the desert drear, His heart is sick, his hope is well nigh dead, His faithful soul is filled with grief and fear, With spirit crushed by wickedness and strife, He prays that God will take away his life.

But ah! behold, from out the burning sky, A dazzling retinue from glory speeds, And quick descends before the prophet's eye, A glittering chariot borne by fiery steeds! And now with angels beautiful and fair, He rides in splendor, through the boundless air.

Oh! glorious triumph over cruel foes! Oh! mighty victory o'er death and sin, No more of grief the stricken prophet knows, As through the pearly gates he's ushered in, And now behold him, walking hand in hand With good old Enoch in the promised land!

And when at last the Prince of Peace shall reign, If like Elijah in the days of old, We cheerful follow where our Lord shall lead, We'll walk with him the glittering streets of gold, While scorners take with loud and bitter wail, Their fearful portion 'mong the seers of Baal.

MRS. LILLA D. A. STUTTLE. Vernon, Shiawassee Co., Michigan.