Child Dedication
171
let none of his words [the Lord’s words through Samuel] fall to the
ground.” In the case of this prophet and judge in Israel are presented
[168]
the possibilities that are placed before a child whose parents co-operate
with God, doing their appointed work.—
Counsels to Parents, Teachers,
and Students, 143
.
The father is responsible for the dedication of every member
of his home—The father was to act as the priest of the household, and
if the father was dead, the eldest son living was to perform this solemn
act of sprinkling the door-post with blood. This is a symbol of the
work to be done in every family. Parents are to gather their children
into the home and to present Christ before them as their Passover. The
father is to dedicate every inmate of his home to God, and to do a work
that is represented by the feast of the passover. It is perilous to leave
this solemn duty in the hands of others.
This peril is well illustrated by an incident that is related concerning
a Hebrew family on the night of the passover. The legend goes that
the eldest daughter was sick; but that she was acquainted with the fact
that a lamb was to be chosen for every family, and that its blood was
to be sprinkled upon the lintel and side posts of the door so that the
Lord might behold the mark of the blood, and not suffer the destroyer
to enter in to smite the first-born. With what anxiety she saw the
evening approach when the destroying angel was to pass by. She
became very restless. She called her father to her side, and asked,
“Have you marked the door-post with blood?” He answered, “Yes; I
have given directions in regard to the matter. Do not be troubled; for
the destroying angel will not enter here.” The night came on, and again
and again the child called her father, still asking, “Are you sure that the
door-post is marked with blood?” Again and again the father assured
her that she need have no fear; that a command which involved such
consequences would not be neglected by his trustworthy servants.
As midnight approached, her pleading voice was heard saying,
“Father, I am not sure. Take me in your arms, and let me see the mark
for myself, so that I can rest.” The father conceded to the wishes of his
child; he took her in his arms and carried her to the door; but there was
no blood mark upon the lintel or the posts. He trembled with horror
as he realized that his home might have become a house of mourning.
With his own hands he seized the hyssop bough, and sprinkled the