the psalm as a whole, we can scarcely fail to see that some such
occasion underlies it. So just exercise your imaginations for a moment,
and think of the long procession of white-robed priests bearing the Ark,
and followed by the joyous multitude chanting as they ascended, 'Who
shall ascend into the hill of the Lord, or who shall stand in His holy
place?' They are bethinking themselves of the qualifications needed for
that which they are now doing. They reach the gates, which we must
suppose to have been closed that they might be opened, and from the
half-chorus outside there peals out the summons, 'Lift up your heads, O
ye gates! and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of Glory
shall come in.' Then from within another band of singers answers with
the question, 'Who is this King of Glory' who thus demands entrance? And
triumphantly the reply rings out, 'The Lord, strong and mighty; the
Lord, mighty in battle.' Still reluctant, the question is put again,
'Who is this King of Glory?' and the answer is given once more, 'The
Lord of hosts, He is the King of Glory.' There is no reference in the
second answer to 'battle.' The conflicts are over, and the dominion is
established, and at the reiterated summons the ancient gates roll back
on their hinges, burst as by a strong blow, and Jehovah enters into His
rest, He and the Ark of His strength. If that is the general connection
of the psalm--and I think you will admit that it adds to its beauty and
dramatic force if we suppose it so--then this introductory question,
sung as the procession climbed the steep, had realised what was needed
for those who should get the entrance that they sought, and comes to be
a very significant and important one. I deal now with the question and
its answer.

I. The question of questions.

That question lies deep in all men's hearts, and underlies sacrifices