»*¦*

LIBRARY

OF

WM. H. OWEN, JR.
 Li?4fe 

JESUS THE MESSIAH

This abridged edition of the author's larger work
involves no omission that impairs the value of the
original. It contains all that the general reader could
desire. It has lost nothing of the author's charm of
style, and is filled with marks of his wonderful store
of Rabbinical learning, which enables him to bring
the reader into the very atmosphere of the time of
Christ. In a thousand incidental ways difficulties are
cleared away, and facts supplied which are needful to
the more perfect understanding of the Gospel narra
tive. The result is one of the best, if not the best,
condensed, reliable, and graphically written lives of
the Christ ever issued.

-.

>".:'-¦:. -^''.-'  ¦¦:r... ¦¦¦¦ '¦¦¦¦¦¦ ¦¦¦¦¦ '-'":--"

THE ADORATION OF THE MAGI.

JESUS THE MESSIAH

BY

ALFRED EDERSHEIM
»>
M.A.OXON., D.D., Ph.D.
SOMETIME GBINFIELD LECTUKEB ON THE SEPTUAGIHT
IN THE UNIVEBSITY OF OXFOBD
AUTHOB OF "THE LIFE AND TIMES OF JESUS THE MESSIAH"

lutfjur'ss lEuftfon
WITS ILLUSTRATIONS BY B.OFFMAN

NEW YORK
ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH vAND CO.
38 West Twenty -Third Street
LONDON
LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO.

Copyright, 1890,
By Anson D. F. Randolph & Co.

Wnamffg fess:
John Wilson and Son, Cambridge.

PATBIS • CARISSIMI
AMICI • MULTUM • DEPLETI
MEMORIAE
HAS - CURAS • QUANTULASCUNQUE
DEDICANT E. E.
W. S.

PEEFACE

When the author of the Life and Times of Jesus the
Messiah was taken away in the spring of this year from
the labours and studies which he loved, he had already
had under consideration the expediency of publishing an
abridged edition of his larger work, such as should throw
it open to a wider circle of readers. That abridgment
has now been carried out, it is hoped, upon the lines which
he would have desired.
Those who have attempted any such task will be aware
how difficult it is to execute satisfactorily. When a re
plica is made of a great picture, its scale may be diminished
without serious loss. The proportions are preserved ; the
contents are the same ; it is only that they are indicated
rather more slightly than before. The reduction takes
place evenly over the whole surface. It is otherwise with
a great literary work. Here reduction involves omission ;
and omission at once alters the proportions. It is not only
that the logical connection is broken and that new links
have to be supplied : the diflBculties arising from this
cause are perhaps less than might be supposed : but the
whole texture of the work is disturbed. A style which
was natural upon one scale, has to be adapted to another ;
and that by an external process which lacks the ease and

viii Jesus the Messiah
freedom of first composition. Dr. Edersheim's work was
planned emphatically upon a large scale. It had a certain
breadth and richness of colouring which helped to carry off
its profusion of detail. When the details were curtailed,
this too had to be toned down. What could be done by
omitting a phrase here, and a sentence there, has been
done ; and upon this much anxious care and thought have
been expended.
As to the matter of the omissions, this was to some
extent prescribed by the nature of the case. The broad
framework of narrative was of course indispensable ; and
along with this every effort has been made to save as much
of the illustrative accessories as the size of the volume
permitted. It is, however, greatly to be regretted that so
much should have been lost which constituted the peculiar
and unrivalled excellence of the larger book. Our genera
tion has seen a number of attempts — some in their way of
great merit — to reproduce the externals and surroundings
of the Life and Ministry of Christ. But it will, I think,
be admitted by the general consent of scholars that in this
respect Dr. Edersheim surpassed his predecessors. No one
else has possessed such a profound and masterly knowledge
ofthe whole Jewish background to the picture presented
in the Gospels — not merely of the archeology, which is
something, but of the essential characteristics of Jewish
thought and feeling, which is far more. It was inevitable
that heavy sacrifices should be made here. All-important
as these details are to the student, the ordinary reader
would be simply oppressed and overpowered by them. For
such readers the abridged edition is intended ; but it is
hoped that not a few may be encouraged to go on to the
abundant stores of the larger book.
I am fain to believe that a more catholic spirit is
growing than prevailed a short time ago, when the first

Preface ix
thing a critic did was to ascertain to what school or party
a book belonged, and then to praise or condemn it accord
ingly. This has been too much the case with those who
aspired to be in the forefront of opinion. To label a book
' critical ' or ' uncritical ' was enough to determine its fate
quite apart from its solid value. Dr. Edersheim's book —
full as it was of information on the very points on which a
scholar would desire it — was not one which could be called
exactly ' critical.' It did not, for instance, presuppose any
theory as to the origin and composition of the Gospels.
It was not that the author was indifferent upon the sub
ject : he had himself made independent studies upon it,
which with time might have been matured and published :
but he deliberately postponed the critical process until
after his book Was written. It was quite as well that it
should be so ; as well to start with an absence of theory,
as e.g. that Keim — to take the case of a very able and
conscientious writer — should start from a theory which is
pretty Certainly untenable. We are learning by degrees
to leave first principles in suspense until We know better
what are the facts which have to be accounted for.
A high authority has said that whoever thinks himself
capable of rewriting the story of the Gospels does not
understand them. And this is indeed, in a sense, most
true. The Gospels have filled for eighteen centuries a
place which nothing else will ever fill. But that does not
exclude the attempts which have been and are being made
so to present the substance of their story as to set it in full
relation at once to its own times and to ours. This has
not yet been done finally. And if it ever should be done
it will, I believe, be allowed that few have contributed
more towards the culmination and crown of many efforts
than he of whom all that is mortal now rests in peace by
the waters of the Mediterranean. With serious purpose,

x Jesus the Messiah
and after long and arduous preparation, he- had put his
hand to a work which it was granted to him to prosecute
far, but not to finish — for the Life and Times was to have
been followed by a Life of St. Paul. He who
Doth not need
Either man's work or His own gifts
gently took the pen from his grasp. And the present
gleaning from the greatest of its many products is a tribute
of filial piety. My own share in the work has been quite
subordinate : but as I have gone over the ground after the
preliminary abridgment had been made, and as I have
been freely consulted in cases of doubt, I gladly accept the
responsibility which falls to me. Nor can I bring these
few words of preface to a close without acknowledging
the valuable assistance we have received from Mr. Norton
Longman, whom the author always regarded as among
the best and most trusted of his friends.
W. SANDAY.
Oxfoed: Oct. 3,1889.

CONTENTS

CHAP. PAaB
I. — The Annunciation of St. John the Baptist ... 1
n. — The Annunciation of Jesus the Messiah, and the Birth
of His Forerunner  6
III.— The Nativity of Jesus the Messiah .... 13
TV.— The Purification of the Virgin and the Presentation in
the Temple  17
V. — The Visit and Homage of the Magi, and the Flight into
Egypt  24
VI.— The Child-Life in Nazareth  28
VII.— In the House of His Heavenly, and in the Home of His
Earthly Father — the Temple of Jerusalem -the
Retirement at Nazareth  31
VIII. — A Voice in the Wilderness ...... 37
IX. — The Baptism of Jesus . ...... 42
X. — The Temptation of Jesus  45
XI. — The Deputation from Jerusalem — The Three Sects of
the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes ... 54
XII.— The Twofold Testimony of John— The First Sabbath
of Jesus' Ministry— The First Sunday— The First
Disciples  62
XIII.— The Marriage-Feast in Cana of Galilee .... 69
XIV.— The Cleansing of the Temple  74
XV. — Jesus and Nicodemus .  79
XVI. — In Judsea and through Samaria .... 84
XVII.— Jesus at the Well of Sychar ... . . 88
XVIII. — The Cure of the ' Nobleman's ' Son at Capernaum . 95
XIX. — The Synagogue at Nazareth — Synagogue- Worship and
Arrangements  97

xii Jesus the Messiah
CHAP. rAOE
XX.— The First Galilean Ministry  Iu4
XXI. — At the ' Unknown ' Feast in Jerusalem, and by the
Pool of Bethesda  108
XXII.— The Final Call of the First Disciples, and the
Miraculous Draught of Fishes .... 113
XXIII. — A Sabbath in Capernaum  117
XXIV. — Second Journey Through Galilee — The Healing of the
Leper  121
XXV. — The Return to Capernaum — Concerning the Forgive
ness of Sins — The Healing of the Paralysed . . 126
XXVI. — The Call of Matthew — Rabbinic Theology as regards
the Doctrine of Forgiveness in Contrast to the
Gospel of Christ— The Call of the Twelve Apostles 129
XXVII.— The Sermon on the Mount  138
XXVIII.— The Healing of the Centurion's Servant . . .147
XXIX.— The Raising of the Young Man of Nain . . .151
XXX. — The Woman which was a Sinner . . . .155
XXXI. — The Ministering Women — The Return to Caper
naum — Healing of the Demonised Dumb —Pharisaic
Charge against Christ— The Visit of Christ's Mother
and Brethren  160
XXXII.— The Parables to the People by the Lake of Galilee,
and those to the Disciples in Capernaum . . 165
XXXIII.— The Storm on the Lake of Galilee . . . .177
XXX IV.— At Gerasa— The Healing ofthe Demonised . . 180
XXXV— The Healing of the Woman— The Raising of Jairus'
Daughter  185
XXXVI.— Second Visit to Nazareth— The Mission of the Twelve 192
XXXVII. — The Baptist's Last Testimony to Jesus, and his Be
heading in Prison  202
XXXVIIL— The Miraculous Feeding of the Five Thousand . . 215
XXXIX —The Night of Miracles on the Lake of Gennesaret . 221
XL.— Concerning 'Purification,' ' Hand - Washing,' and
' Vows '  224
XLI. — The Great Crisis in Popular Feeling— Christ the
Bread of Life—' Will ye also go away 1 ' . . 232
XLII. — Jesus and the Syro-Phcenician Woman . . 242
XLIII. — A Group of Miracles among a Semi-Heathen Popu
lation ......... 245
XLIV.— The Two Pabbath-Controversies— The Plucking of
the Ears of Corn by the Disciples, and the Healing
of the Man with the Withered Hand . . . 249

Contents xiii
CHAP. PAGE
XLV.— The Feeding of the Four Thousand—' The Sign from
Heaven'  257
XLVI.— The Great Confession - The Great Commission . . 263
XLVIL— The Transfiguration . . .... 273
XLVIII. — The Morrow of the Transfiguration .... 277
XLIX.— The Last Events in Galilee :— The Tribute-Money, the
Dispute by the Way, and the Forbidding of him who
could not follow with the Disciples .... 282
L. — The Journey to Jerusalem — First Incidents by the
Way  293
LI. — The Mission and Return of the Seventy — The Home
at Bethany  299
LII. — At the Feast of Tabernacles — First Discourse in the
Temple  309
LIII.— ' In the Last, the Great Day of the Feast' . . .316
LIV. — Teaching in the Temple on the Octave of the Feast
of Tabernacles . ...... 321
LV.— The Healing of the Man Born Blind . . . .331
LVL— The ' Good Shepherd ' . . .... 339
LVlI. — Discourse concerning the Two Kingdoms . . . 343
LVIII. — The Morning-Meal in the Pharisee's House . . . 350
LIX.— To the Disciples — Two Events and their Moral . . 357
LX.— At the Feast of the Dedication of the Temple . . 366
LXI. — The Second Series of Parables —The Two Parables of
him who is Neighbour to us  371
LXII.— The Three Parables of Warning: The Foolish Rich
Man — The Barren Fig-Tree— The Great Supper . 377
LXIIL— The Three Parables of the Gospel: The Lost Sheep,
the Lost Drachm, the Lost Son . . . .385
LXI V. — The Unjust Steward — Dives and Lazarus . . .393
LXV. — The Three Last Parables of the Persean Series : The
Unrighteous Judge — The Pharisee and the Publi
can — The Unmerciful Servant  406
LXVI. — Christ's Discourses in Peraea — Close of the Persean
Ministry  , 416
LXVII. — The Death and the Raising of Lazarus .... 423
LXVIII. — On the Journey to Jerusalem— Healing of Ten Lepers —
On Divorce — The Blessing to Little Children . . 436
LXIX. — The Last Incidents in Persea — The Young Ruler who
went away Sorrowful — Prophecy of Christ's Passion
— The Request of Salome, and of James and John . 442

xiv Jesus the Messiah
CHAP. PAGE
LXX. — In Jericho— A Guest with Zacchseus — The Healing
of Blind Bartimssus — At Bethany, and in the
House of Simon the Leper  450
LXXI.— The First Day in Passion- Week— The Royal Entry
into Jerusalem  459
LXXII. — The Second Day in Passion-Week — The Barren
Fig-Tree— The Cleansing of the Temple— The
Hosanna of the Children  464
LXXIIL— The Third Day in Passion- Week— The Question of
Christ's Authority— The Question of Tribute to
Csesar— The Widow's Farthing — The Greeks who
sought to see Jesus  468
LXXIV.— The Third Day in Passion-Week— The Sadducees
and the Resurrection — The Scribe and the Great
Commandment — Question to the Pharisees and
Final Warning against them .... 478
LXXV.— The Third Day in Passion-Week— The Last Series
of Parables : Of the Labourers in the Vineyard —
Of the Two Sons— Of the Evil Husbandmen —
Of the Marriage of the King's Son and of the
Wedding Garment  491
LXXVI.— The Evening of the Third Day in Passion- Week-
Discourse to the Disciples concerning the Last
Things  503
LXXVII.— Evening of the Third Day in Passion-Week— Last
Parables : Of the Ten Virgins— Of the Talents—
Of the Minas  515
LXXYIIL— The Fourth Day in Passion-Week— The Betrayal-
Judas : his Character, Apostasy, and End . . 524
LXXIX.— The Fifth Day in Passion-Week— 'Make Ready the
Passover I '  531
LXXX.— The Paschal Supper— The Institution of the Lord's
Supper  539
LXXXI. — The Last Discourses of Christ — The Prayer of Con
secration  N . 554
LXXXII. — Gethsemane  558
LXXXIIL— Thursday Night— Before Annas and Caiaphas—
Peter and Jesus  573
LXXXIV— The Morning of Good Friday  688
LXXXV— ' Crucified, Dead, and Buried '  600
LXXXVL— On the Resurrection of Christ from the Dead . 624
LXXXVIL—' On the Third Day He rose again from the Dead ;
He ascended into Heaven ' . . . . g27

LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS.

The Adoration op the Magi  Frontispiece
The Annunciation  To face page 1
The Plight into Egypt  " "27
The Boyhood op Christ  " "30
Jesus in the Temple  " "34
The Temptation  " . " "50
The Cleansing op the Temple  " "78
The Woman op Samaria  " "92
The Sermon on the Mount  " "138
The Raising op the Widow's Son  " " 151
The Woman -which was a Sinner  " "158
The Raising op Jairus' Daughter  " " 190
The Home at Bethany  " " 308
The Blessing to Little Children  " " 441
The Last Supper  " "539
Gethsemane  " " 569
Behold the Man . . •  " "597
On the Road to Calvary  " " 600
The Crucifixion  " "613
The Carrying to the Tomb  " " 620
The Entombment  " "622
The Appearance to Mary  " "630
On the Road to Emmaus  " " 634
The Ascension  " "644

the annunciation.

JESUS THE MESSIAH

CHAPTER I.
THE ANNUNCIATION OF ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
(St. Luke i. 5-25.)
It was the time of the Morning Sacrifice.1 As the massive
Temple gates slowly swung on their hinges, a threefold
blast from the silver trumpets of the Priests seemed to
waken the City to the life of another day.
Already the dawn, for which the Priest on the highest
pinnacle of the Temple had watched, to give the signal for
beginning the services of the day, had shot its brightness-
far away to Hebron and beyond. Within the courts below
all had long been busy. At some time previously, un
known to those who waited for the morning, the superin
tending Priest had summoned to their sacred functions
those who had ' washed,' according to the ordinance.
There must have been each day about fifty priests on duty.
Such of them as were ready now divided into two parties,
to make inspection of the Temple courts by torchlight.
Presently they met, and trooped to the well-known Hall
of Hewn Polished Stones. The ministry for the day was
there apportioned. To prevent the disputes of carnal zeal,
the ' lot ' was to assign to each his function. Four time3
l For a description of the details of that service, see ' The Temple
and its Services/ Edersheim.

2 Jesus the Messiah
was it resorted to : twice before, and twice after the
Temple gates were opened. The first act of their ministry
had to be done in the grey dawn, by the fitful red lighb
that glowed on the altar of burnt-offering, ere the priests
had stirred it into fresh flame. It was scarcely daybreak,
when a second time they met for the ' lot,' which desig
nated those who were to take part in the sacrifice itself,
and who were to trim the golden candlestick, and make
ready the altar of incense within the Holy Place. And
now nothing remained before the admission of worshippers
but to bring out the lamb, once again to make sure of its
fitness for sacrifice, to water it from a golden bowl, and
then to lay it in mystic fashion — as tradition described the
binding of Isaac — on the north side of the altar, with its
face to the west.
All, priests and laity, were present as the Priest,
standing on the east side of the altar, from a golden bowl
sprinkled with sacrificial blood two sides of the altar, below
the red line which marked the difference between ordinary
sacrifices and those that were to be wholly consumed.
While the sacrifice was prepared for the altar, the priests,
whose lot it was, had made ready all within the Holy
Place, where the most solemn part of the day's service was
to take place — that of offering the incense, which symbo
lised Israel's accepted prayers. Again was the lot (the
third) cast to indicate him, who was to be honoured with
this highest mediatorial act. Only once in a lifetime
might any one enjoy that privilege. It was fitting that,
as the custom was, such lot should be preceded by prayer
and confession of their faith on the part of the assembled
priests. It was the first week in October 748 a.u.c, that is, in
the sixth year before our present era, when ' the course of
Abia' — the eighth in the original arrangement of the
weekly service — was on duty in the Temple.
In the group ranged that autumn morning around the
superintending Priest was one, on whom at least sixty
winters had fallen. But never during these many years
had he been honoured with the office of incensing. Yet

The Annunciation of St. John the Baptist 3
the venerable figure of Zacharias must have been well
known in the Temple. For each course was twice a year
on ministry, and, unlike the Levites, the priests were not
disqualified by age, but only by infirmity. In many re
spects he seemed different from those around. His home
was not in either of the great priest-centres — the Ophel-
quarter in Jerusalem, nor in Jericho — but in some small
town in those uplands, south of Jerusalem: the historic
' hill-country of Judaea.' And yet he might have claimed
distinction. To be a priest, and married to the daughter
of a priest, was supposed to convey twofold honour. That
he was surrounded by relatives and friends, and that he
was well known and respected throughout his district,
, gt Lnke . appears incidentally from the narrative. a For
58, 59, 61, 65, Zacharias and Elisabeth, his wife, were truly
'righteous,' in the sense of walking ' blamelessly,'
alike in those commandments which were specially binding
on Israel, and in those statutes that were of universal
bearing on mankind.
Yet Elisabeth was childless. For many a year this
must have been the burden of Zacharias' prayer ; the bur
den also of reproach, which Elisabeth seemed always to
carry with her.
On that bright autumn morning in the Temple, how
ever, no such thoughts would disturb Zacharias. The lot
had marked him for incensing, and every thought must
have centred on what was before him. First, he had to
choose two of his special friends or relatives, to assist in
his sacred service. Their duties were comparatively simple.
One reverently removed what had been left on the altar
from the previous evening's service; then, worshipping,
retired backwards. The second assistant now advanced,
and, having spread to the utmost verge of the golden altar
the live coals taken from that of burnt-offering, worshipped
and retired. Meanwhile the sound of the ' organ,' heard
to the most distant parts of the Temple, and, according to
tradition, far beyond its precincts, had summoned priests,
Levites, and people to prepare for whatever service or
duty was before them. But the celebrant Priest, bearing
B 2

4 Jesus the Messiah
the golden censer, stood alone within the Holy Place,, lit
by the sheen of the seven-branched candlestick. Before
him, somewhat farther away, towards the heavy Veil that
hung before the Holy of Holies, was the golden altar of
incense, on which the red coals glowed. To his right (the
left of the altar — that is, on the north side) was the table
of shewbread ; to his left, on the right or south side of the
altar, was the golden candlestick. And still he waited, as
instructed to do, till a special signal indicated that the
moment had come to spread the incense on the altar, as
near as possible to the Holy of Holies. Priests and people
had reverently withdrawn from the neighbourhood of the
altar, and were prostrate before the Lord, offering unspoken
worship. Zacharias waited, until he saw the incense kind
ling. Then he also would have ' bowed down in worship,'
and reverently withdrawn, had not a Wondrous sight
arrested his steps.
On the right (or south) side of the altar, between it
and the golden candlestick, stood what he could not but
recognise as an Angelic form. Never, indeed, had even
tradition reported such a vision to an ordinary Priest in
the act of incensing. The two supernatural apparitions
recorded — one of an Angel each year of the Pontificate of
Simon the Just ; the other in that blasphemous account of
the vision of the Almighty by Jshmael, the son of Elisha,
and of the conversation which then ensued — had both been
vouchsafed to High-Priests, and on the Day of Atonement.
Still, there was always uneasiness among the people as any
mortal approached the immediate Presence of God, and
every delay in his return seemed ominous. No wonder,
then, that Zacharias ' was troubled, and fear fell on
him.' It was from this state of semi-consciousness that the
Angel first wakened Zacharias with the remembrance of
life-long prayers and hopes, which had now passed into
the background of his being, and then suddenly startled
him by the promise of their realisation. But that Child of
so many prayers, who was to bear the significant name of
John (Jehochanan, or Jochanan), 'the Lord is gracious,'

The Annunciation of St. John the Baptist 5
was to be the source of joy and gladness to a far wider
circle than that of the family. The Child was to be great
before the Lord; not only an ordinary, but a life-Nazarite,1
as Samson and Samuel of old had been. Like them, he
was not to consecrate himself, but from the inception of
life wholly to belong to God, for His work. And, greater
than either of these representatives of the symbolical
import of Nazarism, he would combine the twofold mean
ing of their mission — outward and inward might in God,
only in a higher and more spiritual sense. For this life-
work he would be filled with the Holy Ghost, from the
moment life woke within him. Then, as another Samson,
would he, in the strength of God, lift the axe to each
tree to be felled, and, like another Samuel, turn many of
the children of Israel to the Lord their God. Nay, com
bining these two missions, as did Elijah on Mount Carmel,
he should, in accordance with prophecy," precede
the Messianic manifestation, and, not indeed in
the person or form, but in the spirit and power of Elijah,
accomplish the typical meaning of his mission. Thus
would this new Elijah ' make ready for the Lord a people
prepared.' If the apparition of the Angel, in that place, and at
that time, had overwhelmed the aged priest, the words
which he heard must have filled him with such bewilder
ment, that for the moment he scarcely realised their mean
ing. One idea alone, which had struck its roots so long
in his consciousness, stood out: A son. And so it was
the obvious doubt, that would suggest itself, which first
fell from his lips, as he asked for some pledge or confir
mation of what he had heard.
He that would not speak the praises of God, but asked
a sign, received it. His dumbness was a sign — though
the sign, as it were the dumb child of the prayer of un
belief, was its punishment also. And yet a sign in another
sense also — a sign to the waiting multitude in the Temple ;
a sign to Elisabeth ; to all who knew Zacharias in the
1 On the different classes of Nazarites, see ' The Temple, Sec.,' pp.
322-331.

6 Jesus the Messiah
hill-country ; and to the Priest himself, during those nine
months of retirement and inward solitude; a sign also
that would kindle into fiery flame in the day when God
should loosen his tongue.
A period of unusual length had passed, since the signal
for incensing had been given. The prayers of the people
had been offered, and their anxious gaze was directed to
wards the Holy Place. At last Zacharias emerged to take
his stand on the top of the steps which led from the Porch
to the Court of the Priests, waiting to lead in the priestly
¦ Nmab.vi. benediction* that preceded the daily meat-offer-
24-26 ing and the chant of the Psalms of praise, ac
companied with joyous sound of music, as the drink-
offering was poured out. But already the sign of Zacharias
was to be a sign to all the people. The pieces of the
sacrifices had been ranged in due order on the altar of
burnt-offering ; the Priests stood on the steps to the porch,
and the people were in waiting. Zacharias essayed to
speak the words of benediction, unconscious that the
stroke had fallen. But the people knew it by his silence,
that he had seen a vision in the Temple. Yet as he stood
helpless, trying by signs to indicate it to the awestruck
assembly, he remained dumb.
Wondering, they had dispersed, people and Priests —
some to Ophel, some to Jericho, some to their quiet dwell
ings in the country. But God fulfilled the word which
He had spoken by His Angel.

CHAPTER II.

THE ANNUNCIATION OF JESUS THE MESSIAH, AND THE
BIRTH OF HIS FORERUNNER.
(St. Matt. i. ; St. Luke i. 26-80.)
The Galilee of the time of Jesus was not only of the
richest fertility, cultivated to the utmost, and thickly
covered with populous towns and villages, but the centre

The Annunciation of Jesus f
of every known industry, and the busy road of the world's
commerce. Nor was it otherwise in Nazareth. The great caravan-
route which led from Acco on the sea to Damascus divided
at its commencement into three roads, one of which passed
through Nazareth. Men of all nations, busy with another
life than that of Israel, would appear in its streets ; and
through them thoughts, associations, and hopes connected
with the great outside world be stirred. But, on the
other hand, Nazareth was also one of the great centres of
Jewish Temple-life. The Priesthood was divided into
twenty-four ' courses,' each of which, in turn, ministered
in the Temple. The Priests of the ' course ' which was to
be on duty always gathered in certain towns, whence they
went up in company to Jerusalem, while those of their
number who were unable to go spent the week in fasting
and prayer. Now Nazareth was one of these Priest-centres.
Thus, to take the wider view, a double symbolic signifi.-
cance attached to Nazareth, since through it passed alike
those who carried on the traffic of the world, and those
who ministered in the Temple.
We may take it, that the people of Nazareth were like
those of other little towns similarly circumstanced : with
all the peculiarities of the impulsive, straight-spoken, hot-
blooded, brave, intensely national Galileans; with the
deeper feelings and almost instinctive habits of thought
, and life, which were the outcome of long centuries of Old
Testament training ; but also with the petty interests and
jealousies of such places, and with all the ceremonialism
and punctilious self-assertion of Orientals. The cast of
Judaism prevalent in Nazareth would, of course, be the
same as in Galilee generally. We know, that there were
marked divergences from the observances in that strong
hold of Rabbinism, Judsea — indicating greater simplicity
and freedom from the constant intrusion of traditional
ordinances. The purity of betrothal in Galilee was less
likely to be sullied, and weddings were more simple than
• st. John in Judaea — without the dubious institution of
™-23 groomsmen, or 'friends of the bridegroom. a

8 Jesus the Messiah
The bride was chosen, not as in Judaea, where money was
too often the motive, but as in Jerusalem, with chief
regard to ' a fair degree ; ' and widows were (as in Jeru
salem) more tenderly cared for.
Whatever view may be taken of the genealogies in the
Gospels according to St. Matthew and St. Luke, there
can be no question that both Joseph and Mary were of
the royal lineage of David. Most probably the two were
nearly related, while Mary could also claim kinship with
the Priesthood, being, no doubt on her mother's side, a
» st. Luke i. ' blood-relative ' of Elisabeth, the Priest-wife of
36 Zacharias."- Even this seems to imply that
Mary's family must shortly before have held higher rank,
for only with such did custom sanction any alliance on the
part of Priests. But at the time of their betrothal, alike
Joseph and Mary were extremely poor, as appears— not
indeed from his being a carpenter, since a trade was re
garded as almost a religious duty — but from the offering
» st. Luke at the presentation of Jesus in the Temple.*'
u-24 Accordingly, their betrothal must have been of
the simplest, and the dowry settled the smallest possible.1
From that moment Mary was the betrothed wife of Joseph ;
their relationship as sacred as if they had already been
wedded. Any breach of it would be treated as adultery ;
nor could the bond be dissolved except, as after marriage,
by regular divorce. Yet months might intervene between
the betrothal and marriage.
Five months of Elisabeth's sacred retirement had
passed, when a strange messenger brought its first tidings
to her kinswoman in far-off Galilee. It was not in the
solemn grandeur of the Temple, between the golden altar
of incense and the seven-branched candlestick, that the
Angel Gabriel now appeared, but in the privacy of a
humble home at Nazareth. And, although the awe of the
Supernatural must unconsciously have fallen upon her, it
was not so much the sudden appearance of the mysterious
1 Comp. 'Sketches of Jewish Social Life in the Days of Christ,'
pp. 143-149. Also the article on ' Marriage ' in Uassell's Bible-Educator,
vol. iv. pp. 267-270.

The Annunciation of Jesus y
stranger in her retirement that startled the maiden, as the
words of his greeting, implying unthought blessing. The
' Peace to thee ' was, indeed, the well-known salutation,
while the words ' The Lord is with thee ' might waken
remembrance of the Angelic call to great deliverance
» Judg. vi. in the past.a But this designation of ' highly
favoured ' came upon her with bewildering sur
prise, perhaps ilot so much from its contrast to the humble
ness of her estate, as from the self-unconscious humility of
her heart. Accordingly, it is this story of special ' favour,'
or grace, which the Angel traces in rapid outline, from
the conception of the Virgin-Mother to the distinctive,
Divinely-given Name, symbolic of the meaning of His
coming ; His absolute greatness ; His acknowledgment as
the Son of God ; and the fulfilment in Him of the great
Davidic hope, with its never-ceasing royalty, and its bound
less Kingdom.
In all this, however marvellous, there could be nothing
strange to those who cherished in their hearts Israel's
great hope. Nor was there anything strange even in the
naming of the yet unconceived Child. It sounds like a
saying current among the people of old, this of the Rabbis,
concerning the six whose names were given before their
birth : Isaac, Ishmael, Moses, Solomon, Josiah, and ' the
Name of the Messiah, Whom may the Holy One, blessed
be His Name, bring quickly, in our days ! '
Thus, on the supposition of the readiness of her be
lieving heart there would have been nothing that needed
further light than the how of her own connection with the
glorious announcement. And the words, which she spake.
were not of trembling doubt, but rather those of enquiry,
for the further guidance of a willing self-surrender. And
now the Angel unfolded yet further promise of Divine
favour, and so deepened her humility. For the idea of
the activity of the Holy Ghost in all great events was
quite familiar to Israel at the time, even though the Indi
viduation of the Holy Ghost may not have been fully
apprehended. Only, they expected such influences to rest
exclu^vely upon those who were either mighty, or rich, or

10 Jesus the Messiah
wise. And of this twofold manifestation of miraculous
' favour ' — that she, and as a Virgin, should be its sub
ject—Gabriel, 'the might of God,' gave this unasked
sign, in what had happened to her kinswoman Elisabeth.
The sign -was at the same time a direction. The first,
but also the ever-deepening desire in the heart of Mary,
when the Angel left her, must have been to be away from
Nazareth, and for the relief of opening her heart to a
woman, in all things like-minded, who perhaps might
speak blessed words to her. It is only what we would
have expected, that ' with haste ' she should have resorted
to her kinswoman.
It could have been no ordinary welcome that would
greet the Virgin-Mother. Elisabeth must have learnt
from her husband the destiny of their son, and hence the
near Advent of the Messiah. But she could not have
known either when, or of whom He would be born. When,
by a sign not quite strange to Jewish expectancy, she
recognised in her near kinswoman the Mother of her Lord,
her salutation was that of a mother to a mother — the
mother of the ' preparer ' to the mother of Him for Whom
he would prepare.
Three months had passed, and now the Virgin- Mother
must return to Nazareth. Soon Elisabeth's neighbours
and kinsfolk would gather with sympathetic joy around a
home which, as they thought, had experienced unexpected
mercy. But Mary must not be exposed to the publicity
of such meetings. However conscious of what had led to
her condition, it must have been as the first sharp pang of
the sword which was to pierce her soul, when she told it
all to her betrothed. For only a direct Divine communi
cation could have chased all questioning from his heart,
and given him that assurance, which was needful in the
future history of the Messiah. Brief as the narrative is,
we can read in the ' thoughts ' of Joseph the anxious con
tending of feelings, the scarcely established, and yet
delayed, resolve to ' put her away,' which could only be
done by regular divorce ; this one' determination only
standing out clearly, that, if it must be, her letter of

The Birth of St. John the Baptist ii
divorce shall be handed to her privately, only in the
presence of two witnesses. The humble Tsaddiq of Nazar
reth would not willingly make of her ' a public exhibition
of shame.' The assurance, which Joseph could scarcely dare to
hope for, was miraculously conveyed to him in a dream -
vision. All would now be clear ; even the terms in which
he was addressed (' thou son of David '), so utterly unusual
in ordinary circumstances, would prepare him for the
Angel's message. The naming of the unborn Messiah
would accord with popular notions ; the symbolism of such
a name was deeply rooted in Jewish belief; while the
explanation of Jehoshua or Jeshua (Jesus), as He Who
would save His people (primarily, as he would understand
it, Israel) from their sins, described at least one generally
expected aspect of His Mission.
The fact that such an announcement came to him in a
dream, would dispose Joseph all the more readily to receive
it. ' A good dream ' was one of the three things popu
larly regarded as marks of God's favour. Thus Divinely
set at rest, Joseph could no longer hesitate. The highest
duty towards the Virgin-Mother and the unborn Jesus
demanded an immediate marriage, which would afford not
only outward, but moral protection to both.
Meanwhile the long-looked-for event had taken place
in the home of Zacharias. No domestic solemnity was so
important or so joyous as that in which, by circumcision,
the child had, as it were, laid upon it the yoke of the Law,
with all of duty and privilege which this implied. It was,
so tradition has it, as if the father had acted sacrificially
as High-Priest, offering his child to God in gratitude and
love ; and it symbolised this deeper moral truth, that man
must by his own act complete what God had first insti
tuted. We can scarcely be mistaken in supposing, that
then, as now, a benediction was spoken before circum
cision, and that the ceremony closed with the usual grace
over the cup of wine, when the child received his name in
a prayer, that probably did not much differ from this at
present in use : ' Our God, and the God of our fathers,

12 Jesus the Messiah
raise up this child to his father and mother, and let his
name be called in Israel Zacharias, the son of Zacharias.'
The prayer closed with the hope that the child might grow
up, and successfully 'attain to the Torah, the marriage-
baldachino, and good works.'
Of all this Zacharias was, though a deeply interested,
yet a deaf and dumb * witness. This only had he noticed,
that, in the benediction in which the child's name was
inserted, the mother had interrupted the prayer. Without
explaining her reason, she insisted that his name should
not be that of his aged father, as in the peculiar circum
stances might have been expected, but John (Jochanan).
A reference to the father only deepened the general
astonishment, when he also gave the same name. But
this was not the sole cause for marvel. For, forthwith the
tongue of the dumb was loosed, and he, who could not
utter the name of the child, now burst into praise of the
name of the Lord. His last words had been those of
unbelief, his first were those of praise ; his last words had
been a question of doubt, his first were a hymn of assu
rance. This hymn of the Priest closely follows, and, if the
expression be allowable, spiritualises a great part of the
most ancient Jewish prayer : the so-called Eighteen Bene
dictions. Opening with the common form of blessing, his
hymn struck, one by one, the deepest chords of that prayer.
But far and wide, as these marvellous tidings spread
throughout the hill-country of Judaea, fear fell on all — the
fear also of a nameless hope : ' What then shall this Child
be ? For the Hand of the Lord also was with Him ! '
1 From St. Luke i. 62 we gather that Zacharias was what the Rabbis
understood by » Hebrew term signifying one deaf as well as dumb.
Accordingly, he was communicated with by signs.

The Nativity of Jesus 13

CHAPTER III.
THE NATIVITY OF JESUS THE MESSIAH.
(St. Matt. i. 25 ; St. Luke ii. 1-20.)
To Bethlehem as the birthplace of Messiah, not only Old
Testament prediction* but the testimony of Rab-
binic teaching, unhesitatingly pointed. Yet no
thing could be imagined more directly contrary to Jewish
thoughts — and hence nothing less likely to suggest itself
to Jewish invention — than the circumstances which, accord
ing to the Gospel-narrative, brought about the birth of the
Messiah in Bethlehem. A counting of the people, or Cen
sus ; and that Census taken at the bidding of a heathen
Emperor, and executed by one so universally hated as
Herod, would represent the ne plus ultra of all that was
most repugnant to Jewish feeling.
That the Emperor Augustus made registers of the
Roman Empire, and of subject and tributary states, is
now generally admitted. This registration — for the purpose
of future taxation — would also embrace Palestine. Even if
no actual order to that effect had been issued during the
life-time of Herod, we can understand that he would deem
it most expedient, in view of the probable excitement which
a heathen census would cause in Palestine, to take steps
for making a registration rather according to the Jewish
than the Roman manner.
According to the Roman law, all country-people were
to be registered in their ' own city ' — meaning thereby the
town to which the village or place, where they were born,
was attached. In so doing, the 'house and lineage' of
each were marked. According to the Jewish mode of
registration, the people would have been enrolled accord
ing to tribes, families or clans, and the house of their fathers.
But as the ten tribes had not returned to Palestine, this
could ^mly take place to a very limited extent, while it

14 Jesus the Messiah
would be easy for each to be registered in ' his own city.
In the case of Joseph and Mary, whose descent from David
was not only known, but where, for the sake of the unborn
Messiah, it was most important that this should be dis
tinctly noted, it was natural that, in accordance with
Jewish law, they should have gone to Bethlehem. Perhaps
also, for many reasons which will readily suggest them
selves, Joseph and Mary might be glad to leave Nazareth,
and seek, if possible, a home in Bethlehem. Indeed, so
strong was this feeling, that it afterwards required special
Divine direction to induce Joseph to relinquish this chosen
• st. Matt, place of residence, and to return into Galilee.*
u- 23 In these circumstances, Mary, now the ' wife ' of
Joseph, though standing to him only in the actual relation-
»st. Luke ii. ship of ' betrothed,' b would, of course, accompany
6- her husband to Bethlehem.
-3?ha-Bhort winter's day was probably closing in, as the
two traveller's from Nazareth, bringing with them the
few necessaries of a poor Eastern household, neared their
journey's end. Only in the East would the most absolute
simplicity be possible, and yet neither it, nor the poverty
from which it sprang, necessarily imply even the slightest
taint of social inferiority. The way had been long and
weary — at the very least, three days' journey from Galilee.
Most probably it would have been by that route so com
monly followed, from a desire to avoid Samaria, along the
eastern banks of the Jordan, and by the fords near
Jericho. The little town of Bethlehem was crowded with those
who had come from all the outlying district to register
their names. The very inn was filled, and the only avail
able space was where ordinarily the cattle were stabled.
Bearing in mind the simple habits of the East, this scarcely
implies what it would in the West ; and perhaps the
seclusion and privacy from the noisy, chattering crowd,
which thronged the khan, would be all the more welcome.
Scanty as these particulars are, even thus much is gathered
rather by inference than from the narrative itself. 4Thus
early in this history does the absence of details, which

The Nativity of Jesus 15
•increases as we proceed, remind us, that the Gospels were
not intended to furnish a biography of Jesus, nor even the
materials for it; but had only this twofold object: that
those who read them ' might believe that Jesus is the Christ,
the Son of God,' and that believing they ' might have life
• st. John through His Name.' a The Christian heart and
comp. ' imagination, indeed, long to be able to localise
st. Luke i. 4 thg scene anrl linger with fond reverence over
that Cave, which is now covered by ' the Church of the
Nativity.' It seems likely that this, to which the most
venerable tradition points, was the sacred spot of the
world's greatest event. Bat certainty we have not. As to
all that passed in the seclusion of that ' stable ' the Gospel-
narrative is silent. This only is told, that then and there
the Virgin-Mother ' brought forth her first-born Son, and
wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a
manger.' But as we pass from the sacred gloom of the cave out
into the night, its loneliness is peopled, and its silence
made vocal from heaven. Jewish tradition may here prove
both illustrative and helpful. That the Messiah was to be
born in Bethlehem, was a settled conviction. Equally so
was the belief, that He was to be revealed from Migdal
TSder, ' the tower of the flock.' This Migdal Eder was not
the watch-tower for the ordinary flocks which pastured on
the barren sheep -ground beyond Bethlehem, but lay close
to the town, on the road to Jerusalem. A passage in the
Mishnah leads to the conclusion, that the flocks, which
pastured there, were destined for Temple-sacrifices, and,
accordingly, that the shepherds, who watched over them,
were not ordinary shepherds. The latter were under the
ban of Rabbinism, on account of their necessary isolation
from religious ordinances, and their manner of life, which
rendered strict legal observance unlikely, if not absolutely
impossible. The same Mishnic passage also leads us to
infer, that these flocks lay out all the year round, since
they are spoken of as in the fields thirty days before the
Passover — that is, in the month of February, when in
Palestine the average rainfall is nearly greatest.

1 6 Jesus the Messiah
It was, then, on that 'wintry night' of the 25th of"
December, that shepherds watched the flocks destined for
sacrificial services, in the very place consecrated by tradi
tion as that where the Messiah was to be first revealed. Of
a sudden came the long-delayed, unthought-of announce
ment : an Angel stood before their dazzled eyes, while the
outstreaming glory of the Lord seemed to enwrap them, as
in a mantle of light. Surprise, awe, fear would be hushed
into calm and expectancy, as from the Angel they heard
that what they saw boded not judgment, but ushered in to
waiting Israel the great joy of those good tidings which he
brought : that the long-promised Saviour, Messiah, Lord,
was born in the City of David, and that they themselves
might go and see, and recognise Him by the humbleness
of the circumstances surrounding His Nativity.
It was as if attendant angels had only waited the
signal. As, when the sacrifice was laid on the altar the
Temple-music burst forth in three sections, each marked
by the blast of the Priests' silver trumpets, so, when the
Herald-Angel had spoken, a multitude of heaven's host
stood forth to hymn the good tidings he had brought.
What they sang was but the reflex of what had been
announced : — Glory to God in the highest —
And upon e-irth peace —
Among men good pleasure I
Only once before had the words of Angels' hymn fallen
upon mortals' ears, when, to Isaiah's rapt vision, Heaven's
high Temple had opened, and the glory of Jehovah swept
its courts, almost breaking down the trembling posts that
bore its boundary gates. Now the same glory enwrapt
the shepherds on Bethlehem's plains. Then the Angels'
hymn had heralded the announcement of the Kingdom
coming ; now that of the King come. Then it had been
the Tris-Hagion of prophetic anticipation; now that of
Evangelic fulfilment.
The hymn had ceased ; the light faded out of the sky ;
and the shepherds were alone. But the Angelic message

The Purification 'of the Virgin \f
remained with them ; and the sign, which was to guide
them to the Infant Christ, lighted their rapid way up the
terraced height to where, at the entering of Bethlehem,
the lamp swinging over the hostelry directed them to the
strangers of the house of David, who had come from
Nazareth. There they found, perhaps not what they had
expected, but as they had been told. The holy group only
consisted of the Virgin-Mother, the carpenter of Nazareth,
and the Babe laid in the manger. What further passed
we know not, save that having seen it for themselves the
shepherds told what had been spoken to them about this
Child, to all around — in the ' stable,' in the fields, probably
also in the Temple, to which they would bring their flocks,
thereby preparing the minds of a Simeon, of an Anna, and
of all them that looked for salvation in Israel.

CHAPTER IV.

THE PURIFICATION OF THE VIRGIN AND THE PRESENTATION
IN THE TEMPLE.
(St. Luke ii. 21-38.)
Foremost amongst those who, wondering, had heard what
the shepherds told, was she whom most it concerned : the
Mother of Jesus.
At the very outset of this history, and increasingly in
its course, the question meets us, how, if the Angelic
message to the Virgin was a reality, and her motherhood
so supernatural, she could have been apparently so ignorant
of what was to come — nay, so often have even misunder
stood it ? Might we not have expected, that the Virgin-
Mother from the inception of this Child's life would have
realised that He was truly the Son of God ? The question,
like so many others, requires only to be clearly stated, to
find its emphatic answer. For, had it been so, His history,
His human life, of which every step is of such importance
to mankind, would not have been possible. Apart from
O

1 8 Jesus the Messiah
all thoughts of the deeper necessity, both as regarded His
Mission and the salvation of the world, of a true human
development of gradual consciousness and personal life,
Christ could not, in any real sense, have been subject to
His Parents, if they had fully understood that He was
Divine ; nor could He, in that case, have been watched, as
He ' grew in wisdom and in favour with God and men.'
Such knowledge would have broken the bond of His
Humanity to ours, by severing that which bound Him as
a child to His mother. We could not have become His
brethren, had He not been truly the Virgin's Son. The
mystery of the Incarnation would have been needless and
fruitless, had His Humanity not been subject to all its
right and ordinary conditions. In short, one, and that
the distinctive New Testament, element in our salvation
would have been taken away. At the beginning of His
life He would have anticipated the lessons of its end —
nay, not those of His Death only, but of His Resurrection
and Ascension, and of the coming of the Holy Ghost.
In all this we have only considered the earthward, not
the heavenward, aspect of His life. The latter, though
very real, lies beyond our present horizon. Not so the
question as to the development of the Virgin-Mother's
spiritual knowledge. Assuming her to have occupied the
standpoint of Jewish Messianic expectancy, and remember
ing also that she was so ' highly favoured ' of God, still
there was not as yet anything, nor could there be for many
years, to lead her beyond what might be called the utmost
height of Jewish belief. On the contrary, there was much
connected with His true Humanity to keep her back.
Thus it was, that every event connected with the
Messianic manifestation of Jesus would come to the
Virgin-Mother as a new surprise. Each event, as it took
place, stood isolated in her mind, as something quite by
itself. She knew the beginning, and she knew the end ;
but she knew not the path which led from the one to
the other ; and each step in it was a new revelation. And
it was natural and well that it should be so. For, thus
only could she truly, because self-unconsciously, as a Jewish

The Purification of the Virgin ig
woman and mother, fulfil all the requirements of the
Law, alike as regarded herself and her Child.
The first of these was Circumcision, representing
voluntary subjection to the conditions of the Law, and
acceptance of the obligations, but also of the privileges, ol
the Covenant between God and Abraham and his seed.
The ceremony took place, as in all ordinary circumstances.
on the eighth day, when the Child received the Angel-
given name Jeshua (Jesus). Two other legal ordi
nances still remained to be observed. The firstborn son
of every household was, according to the Law, to be
' redeemed ' of the priest at the price of five shekels of the
•Numb. Sanctuary.11 The earliest period of presentation
xvm. 16 wag thirty-one days after birth, so as to make
the legal month quite complete. The child must have
been the firstborn of his mother; neither father nor
mother must be of Levitic descent ; and the child must be
free from all such bodily blemishes as would have dis
qualified him for the priesthood — or, as it was expressed :
' the firstborn for the priesthood.' It was a thing much
dreaded, that the child should die before his redemption ;
but if his father died in the interval, the child had to
redeem himself when of age. The value of the ' redemp
tion-money' would amount to about ten or twelve
shillings. The redemption could be made from any priest,
and attendance in the Temple was not requisite. It was
otherwise with ' the purification ' of the mother.6
LeT' The Rabbinic law fixed this at forty-one days
after the birth of a son, and eighty-one after that of a
daughter, so as to make the Biblical terms quite complete.
But it might take place any time later — notably, when
attendance on any of the great feasts brought a family to
Jerusalem. Indeed, the woman was not required to be
personally present at all, when her offering was provided
for — gay, by the representatives of the laity, who daily
took part in the services for the various districts from
which they came. But mothers who were within con
venient distance of the Temple, and especially the more
earnest among them, would naturally attend personally in
c 2

20 Jesus the Messiah
the Temple ; and in such cases, when practicable, the
redemption of the firstborn, and the purification of his
mother, would be combined. Such was undoubtedly the
case with the Virgin-Mother and her Son.
For this twofold purpose the Holy Family went up to
the Temple, when the prescribed days were completed.
The ceremony at the redemption of a firstborn son was, no
doubt, more simple than that at present in use. It con
sisted of the formal presentation of the child to the priest,
accompanied by two short ' benedictions ' — the one for the
law of redemption, the other for the gift of a firstborn son,
after which the redemption-money was paid.
As regards the rite at the purification of the mother,
the scantiness of information has led to serious misstate
ments. Any comparison with our modern ' churching '
of women is inapplicable, since the latter consists of
thanksgiving, and the former primarily of a sin-offering
for the Levitical defilement symbolically attaching to the
beginning of life, and a burnt-offering, that marked the
restoration of communion with God. Besides, as already
stated, the sacrifice for purification might be brought in
the absence of the mother. The service simply consisted
ofthe statutory sacrifice. This was what, in ecclesiastical
language, was termed an offering, ' ascending and de
scending,' that is : according to the means of the offerer.
The sin-offering was, in all cases, a turtle-dove or a young
pigeon. But, while the more wealthy brought a lamb
for a burnt-offering, the poor might substitute for it a
turtle-dove, or a young pigeon. The Temple-price of the
meat- and drink-offerings was fixed once a month ; and
special officials instructed the intending offerers, and pro
vided them with what was needed. There was also a
special ' superintendent of turtle-doves and pigeons,'
required for certain purifications. In the Court of the
Women there were thirteen trumpet-shaped chests for
pecuniary contributions, called ' trumpets.' l Into the
third of these they who brought the poor's offering, like
1 Comp. St. Matt. vi. 2. See ' The Temple and its Services,' Sec.
pp. 26, 27.

The Purification of the Virgin 21
the Virgin-Mother, were to drop the price of the sacrifices
which were needed for their purification. As we infer, the
superintending priest must have been stationed here, alike
to inform the offerer of the price of the turtle-doves, and
to see that all was in order. For the offerer of the poor's
offering would not require to deal directly with the
sacrificing priest. At p, certain time in the day this
third chest was opened, and half of its contents applied
to burnt-, the other half to sin-offerings. Thus sacrifices
were provided for a corresponding number of those who
were to be purified, without either shaming the poor,
needlessly disclosing the character of impurity, or causing
unnecessary bustle and work. Though this mode of pro
cedure could, of course, not be obligatory, it would, no
doubt, be that generally followed.
We can now, in imagination, follow the Virgin-Mother
in the Temple. Her Child had been given up to the Lord,
and received back from Him. She had entered the Court
of the Women, probably by the ' Gate of the Women,' on
the north side, and deposited the price of her sacrifices in
Trumpet No. 3, which was close to the raised dais or
gallery where the women worshipped, apart from the men.
And now the sound of the organ, which announced
throughout the vast Temple-buildings that the incense
was about to be kindled on the Golden Altar, summoned
those who were to be purified. The chief of the ministrant
lay-representatives of Israel on duty (the so-called ' station-
men ') ranged those, who presented themselves before the
Lord as offerers of special sacrifices, within the wickets on
either side the great Nicanor Gate, at the top of the
fifteen steps which led up from the Court of the Women
to that of Israel. The purification-service, with such
unspoken prayer and praise as would be the outcome of
a grateful heart, was soon ended, and they who had shared
in it were Levitically clean. Now all stain was removed,
and, as the Law put it, they might again partake of sacred
offerings. It has been observed, that by the side of every humili
ation connected with the Humanity of the Messiah, the

22 Jesus the Messiah
glory of His Divinity was also made to shine forth. The
coincidences are manifestly undesigned on the part of the
Evangelic writers, and hence all the more striking. And
so, when now the Mother of Jesus in her humbleness
could only bring the ' poor's offering,' the witness to the
greatness of Him Whom she had borne was not want
ing. The ' parents ' of Jesus had brought Him into the
Temple for presentation and redemption, when they were
met by one, whose venerable figure must have been well
known in the city and the Sanctuary. Simeon combined
the three characteristics of Old Testament piety : 'justice,'
as regarded his relation and bearing to God and man ; ' fear
of God,' in opposition to the boastful self-righteousness of
Pharisaism ; and, above all, longing expectancy of the near
fulfilment of the great promises, and that in their spiritual
import as ' the Consolation of Israel.' And now it was as
had been promised him. Coming 'in the Spirit' into the
Temple, just as His parents were bringing the Infant
Jesus, he took Him into his arms, and burst into thanks
giving. God had fulfilled His word. He was not to see
death, till he had seen the Lord's Christ. Now did his
Lord ' dismiss ' him ' in peace ' — release him from work
and watch — since he had actually seen that salvation, so
long preparing for a waiting weary world : a glorious light,
Whose rising would light up heathen darkness, and be
the outshining glory around Israel's mission.
But his unexpected appearance, the more unexpected
deed and words, and that most unexpected and un-Judaic
form in which what was said of the Infant Christ was pre
sented to their minds, filled the hearts of His parents with
wonderment. And it was as if their silent wonderment
had been an unspoken question, to which the answer now
came in words of blessing from the aged watcher. But
now it was the personal, or rather the Judaic, aspect
which, in broken utterances, was set before the Virgin-
Mother — as if the whole history of the Christ upon earth
were passing in rapid vision before Simeon. That Infant
was to be a stone of decision ; a foundation and corner-

The Presentation in the Temple 23
stone," for fall or for uprising; a sign spoken
against ; the sword of deep personal sorrow would
t pierce the Mother's heart ; and so to the terrible end, when
the veil of externalism which had so long covered the
hearts of Israel's leaders would be rent, and the deep evil
of their thoughts laid bare.
Nor was Simeon's the only hymn of praise on that day.
A special interest attaches to her who responded in praise
to God for the pledge she saw of the near redemption. A
kind of mystery seems to invest this Anna. A widow,
whose early desolateness had been followed by a long life
of solitary mourning ; one of those in whose home the
tribal genealogy had been preserved. We infer from this,
and from the fact that it was that of a tribe which had
not returned to Palestine, that hers was a family of some
distinction. Curiously enough, the tribe of Asher alone is
celebrated in tradition for the beauty of its women, and
their fitness to be wedded to High-Priest or King.
These many years had Anna spent in the Sanctuary,
and spent in fasting and prayer — yet not of that self-
righteous, self-satisfied kind which was of the essence of
popular religion. Nor yet were ' fasting and prayer ' to
her the all-in-all of religion, sufficient in themselves;
sufficient also before God: The seemingly hopeless exile
of her own tribe, the political state of Judasa, the con
dition — social, moral, and religious — of her own Jerusa
lem, all kindled in her, as in those who were like-minded,
deep, earnest longing, for the time of promised ' redemp
tion.' No place so suited to such an one as the Temple,
with its services ; no occupation so befitting as ' fasting
and prayer.' And there were others, perhaps many such,
in Jerusalem. Though Rabbinic tradition ignored them,
they were the salt which preserved the mass from festering
corruption. To her, as the representative of such, was it
granted as prophetess to recognise Him, Whose Advent
had been the burden of Simeon's praise.

24 Jesus the Messiah

CHAPTER V.
THE VISIT AND HOMAGE OF THE MAGI, AND THE
FLIGHT INTO EGYPT.
(St. Matt. ii. 1-18.)
The story of the homage to the infant Saviour by the
Magi is told by St. Matthew, in language of which the
brevity constitutes the chief difficulty. Even their desig
nation is not free from ambiguity. The term Magi is used
in the LXX., by Philo, Josephus, and by profane writers,
alike in an evil and, so to speak, in a good sense — in the
former case as implying the practice of magical
Acts viii. 9 ; arts ; a in the latter, as referring to those Eastern
(specially Chaldee) priest-sages, whose researches,
in great measure as yet mysterious and unknown to us,
seem to have embraced much deep knowledge, though not
untinged with superstition. It is to these latter, that the
Magi spoken of by St. Matthew must have belonged.
Their number — to which, however, no importance at
taches — cannot be ascertained. Various suggestions have
been made as to the country of ' the East,' whence they
came. The oldest opinion traces the Magi — though par
tially on insufficient grounds — to Arabia. And there is
this in favour of it, that not only the closest intercourse
existed between Palestine and Arabia, but that from about
120 B.C. to the sixth century of our era, the kings of Yemen
professed the Jewish faith.
Shortly after the Presentation of the Infant Saviour in
the Temple, certain Magi from the East arrived in Jeru
salem with strange tidings. They had seen at its ' rising '
a sidereal appearance, which they regarded as betokening
the birth of the Messiah-King of the Jews, in the sense
which at the time attached to that designation. Accor
dingly, they had come to Jerusalem to pay homage to
Him, probably not because they imagined He must be born

The visit of the Magi 25
in the Jewish capital, but because they would naturally
expect there to obtain authentic information, ' where ' He
might be found. In their simplicity, the Magi addressed
themselves in the first place to the official head of the
nation. But their inquiry produced on King Herod, and
in the capital, a far different impression from the feeling
of the Magi. Unscrupulously cruel as Herod had always
proved, even the .slightest suspicion of danger to his rule
— the bare possibility of the Advent of One, Who had
such claims upon the allegiance of Israel, and Who, if
acknowledged, would evoke the most intense movement
on their part— must have struck terror to his heart. Nor
is it difficult to understand that the whole city should,
although on different grounds, have shared the ' trouble '
of the king. They knew only too well the character of
Herod, and what the consequences would be to them, or
to any one who might be suspected, however unjustly, of
sympathy with any claimant to the royal throne of David.
Herod took immediate measures, characterised by his
usual cunning. He called together all the High-Priests —
past and present — and all the learned Rabbis, and, with
out committing himself as to whether the Messiah was
already born, or only expected, simply propounded to
them the question of His birthplace. At the same time
he took care diligently to inquire the precise time, when
the sidereal appearance had first attracted the attention of
• st. Matt, the Magi.a So long as any one lived, who was
"¦ 7 born in Bethlehem between the earliest appear
ance of this ' star ' and the time of the arrival of the
„ 16 Magi, he was not safe. The subsequent conduct
of Herod b shows that the Magi must have told
him, that their first observation of the phenomenon had
taken place two years before their arrival in Jerusalem.
The assembled authorities of Israel could only return
one answer to the question submitted by Herod. As shown
by the rendering of the Targum Jonathan, the prediction
in Micah v. 2 was at the time universally understood as
pointing to Bethlehem, as the birthplace of the Messiah.
That such was the general expectation, appears from the

26 Jesus the Messiah
Talmud, where, in an imaginary conversation between an
Arab and a Jew, Bethlehem is authoritatively named as
Messiah's birthplace. St. Matthew reproduces the pro
phetic utterance of Micah, exactly as such quotations were
popularly made at that time. It will be remembered that,
Hebrew being a dead language so far as the people were
concerned, the Holy Scriptures were always translated
into the popular dialect, the person so doing being desig
nated Methurgeman (dragoman) or interpreter. These ren
derings, which at the time of St. Matthew were not yet
allowed to be written down, formed the precedent for, if
not the basis of, our later Tairgum.
The further conduct of Herod was in keeping with
his plans. He sent for the Magi — for various reasons,
secretly. After ascertaining the precise time when they
had first observed the ' star,' he directed them to Beth
lehem, with the request to inform him when they had
found the Child ; on pretence that he was equally desirous
with them to pay Him homage. As they left Jerusalem
for the goal of their pilgrimage, to their surprise and joy,
the ' star,' x which had attracted their attention at its
' rising,' and which, as seems implied in the narrative,
they had not seen of late, once more appeared on the
horizon, and seemed to move before them, till ' it stood
over where the young child was ' — that is, of course, over
Bethlehem, not over any special house in it. And, since
in ancient times such extraordinary ' guidance ' by a ' star '
was matter of belief and expectancy, the Magi would,
1 Astronomically speaking there can be no doubt that the most
remarkable conjunction of planets — that of Jupiter and Saturn in the
constellation Pisces, which occurs only once in 800 years— took place
no less than three times in the year 747 A.U.C., or two years before the
birth of Christ (in May, Oct., and Dec). In the year following Mars
joined this conjunction. Kepler, who was led to the discovery by ob
serving a similar conjunction in 1603-4, also noticed that when the
three planets came into conjunction a new, extraordinarily brilliant
star was visible between Jupiter and Saturn, and he suggested that a
similar star had appeared under the same circumstances in the conjunc
tion preceding the Nativity. It has been astronomically ascertained
that such a sidereal apparition would be visible to those who left
Jerusalem, and that it would point — almost seem to go before  in the
direction of and stand over Bethlehem.

3

wh+iL

•

;,/ *

THE PLIGHT INTO EGYPT.

The Flight into Egypt 27
from their standpoint, regard it as the fullest confirmation
that they had been rightly directed to Bethlehem — and
' they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.' It could not be
difficult to learn in Bethlehem, where the Infant, around
Whose Birth marvels had gathered, might be found. It
appears that the temporary shelter of the ' stable ' had
been exchanged by the Holy Family for the more per-
„vll manent abode of a 'house;'" and there the
Magi found the Infant- Saviour with His Mother.
Only two things are recorded of this visit of the Magi
to Bethlehem : their homage, and their offerings. Viewed
as gifts, the incense and the myrrh would, indeed, have
been strangely inappropriate. But their offerings were
evidently intended as specimens of the products of their
country, and their presentation was, even as in our own
days, expressive of the homage of their country to the
new-found King. In this sense, then, the Magi may
truly be regarded as the representatives of the Gentile
World ; their homage as the first and typical acknowledg
ment of Christ by those who hitherto had been ' far off; '
and their offerings as symbolic of the world's tribute. The
ancient Church has traced in the gold the emblem of
His Royalty ; in the myrrh, of His Humanity, and that in
the fullest evidence of it, in His burying ; and in the in
cense, that of His Divinity.
It could not be, that these Magi should become the in
struments of Herod's murderous designs ; nor yet that
the Infant-Saviour should fall a victim to the tyrant.
Warned of God in a dream, the ' wise men ' returned ' into
their own country another way ; ' and, warned by the Angel
of the Lord in a dream, the Holy Family sought temporary
shelter in Egypt. Baffled in the hope of attaining his
object through the Magi, the reckless tyrant sought to
secure it by an indiscriminate slaughter of all the chil
dren in Bethlehem and its immediate neighbourhood, from
two years and under. True, considering the population of
Bethlehem, their number could only have been small —
probably twenty at most. But the deed was none the less
atrocious ; and these infants may j ustly be regarded as

28 Jesus the Messiah
the ' protomartyrs,' the first witnesses, of Christ, ' the blos
som of martyrdom ' (' flores marfyrum,' as Prudentius calls
them). But of two passages in his own Old Testament Scrip
tures the Evangelist sees a fulfilment in these events.
The flight into Egypt is to him the fulfilment of this ex
pression by Hosea, ' Out of Egypt have I called My
• hos. ad. 1 Son.' a In the murder of ' the Innocents,' he sees
'Jer.xxxi.i5 the fulfilment of Rachel's lament15 over her chil
dren, the men of Benjamin, when the exiles to Babylon met
in Ramah,0 and there was bitter wailing at the pro
spect of parting for hopeless captivity, and yet
bitterer lament, as they who might have encumbered the on
ward march were pitilessly slaughtered. Those who have
attentively followed the course of Jewish thinking, and
marked how the ancient Synagogue, and that rightly,
read the Old Testament in its unity, as ever pointing to
the Messiah as the fulfilment of Israel's history, will
not wonder at, but fully accord with St. Matthew's retro
spective view.

CHAPTER VI.
THE CHILD-LIFE IN NAZARETH.
(St. Matt. ii. 19-23; St. Luke ii. 39, 40.)
The stay of the Holy Family in Egypt must have been of
brief duration. The cup of Herod's misdeeds, but also of
his misery, was full. During the whole latter part of his
life, the dread of a rival to the throne had haunted him,
and he had sacrificed thousands, among them those nearest
and dearest to him, to lay that ghost. And still the
tyrant was not at rest. A more terrible scene is not pre-.
sented in history than that of the closing days of Herod.1
Tormented by nameless fears ; even making attempts on
1 For an account of the personal history of Herod see ' Life and
Times,' bk. ii., chaps, ii. and ix., and app. iv.

The Child-life in Nazareth 29
his own life; the delirium of tyranny, the passion for
blood, drove him to the verge of madness. The most
loathsome disease had fastened on his body, and his suffer
ings were at times agonising. By the advice of his
physicians, he had himself carried to the baths of Cal-
lirhoe (east of the Jordan), trying all remedies with the
determination of one who will do hard battle for life. It
was in vain. He knew that his hour was come, and had
himself conveyed back to his palace under the palm-trees
of Jericho. The last days of Herod were stained by fresh murders.
The execution of Antipater — the false accuser and real
murderer of his half-brothers Alexander and Aristobulus
— preceded the death of his father by but five days. The
latter occurred from seven to fourteen days before the
Passover, which in 750 took place on April 12.
Herod had reigned thirty-seven years — thirty-four
since his conquest of Jerusalem. Soon the rule for which
he had so long plotted, striven, and stained himself with
untold crimes, passed from his descendants. A century
more, and his whole race had been swept away.
Herod had three times changed his testament.1 But
a few days before his death he made yet another disposi
tion, by which Archelaus, the elder brother of Antipas,
was appointed king; Antipas tetrarch of Galilee and
Peraea ; and Philip tetrarch of the territory east of the
Jordan. Although the Emperor seems to have authorised
him to appoint his successor, Herod wisely made his dis
position dependent on the approval of Augustus. But the
latter was not by any means to be taken for granted.
Archelaus had, indeed, been immediately proclaimed King
by the army ; but he prudently declined the title, till it
had been confirmed by the Emperor.
Augustus decided, however, to do this, though with
certain slight nlodifications, of which the most important
was that Archelaus should bear the title of Mhnaroh,
which, if he deserved it, would by-and-by be exchanged
1 Herod had married no less than ten times. See his genealogical
table.

30 Jesus the Messiah
for that of King. His dominions were to be Judaea,
Idumasa, and Samaria, -with a revenue of 600 talents (about
230,000Z. to 240,000Z.). It is needless to follow the for
tunes of the new Ethnarch. His brief reign ceased in the
year 6 of our era, when the Emperor banished him, on
account of his crimes, to Gaul.
It must have been soon after the accession of Archelaus,
but before tidings of it had actually reached Joseph in
Egypt, that the Holy Family returned to Palestine. The
first intention of Joseph seems to have been to settle in
Bethlehem, where he had lived since the birth of Jesus.
Obvious reasons would incline him to choose this, and, if
possible, to avoid Nazareth as the place of his residence.
But when, on reaching Palestine, he learned who the
successor of Herod was, and also, no doubt, in what
manner he had inaugurated his reign, common prudence
would have dictated the withdrawal of the Infant-Saviour
from the dominions of Archelaus. It needed Divine direc
tion to determine his return to Nazareth.
Of the many years spent in Nazareth, during which
Jesus passed from infancy to manhood, the Evangelic
narrative has left us but briefest notice. Of His childhood :
that ' He grew and waxed strong in spirit, filled with
» st. Lute wisdom, and the grace of God was upon him ; ' a
"¦ 40 of His youth : besides the account of His ques
tioning the Rabbis in the Temple, the year before He
attained Jewish majority — that ' He was subject to His
Parents,' and that ' He increased in wisdom and stature,
and in favour with God and man.' Considering what
loving care watched over Jewish child-life, tenderly
marking by not fewer than eight designations the various
stages of its development,1 and the deep interest naturally
attaching to the early life of the Messiah, that silence, in
contrast to the almost blasphemous absurdities of the
Apocryphal Gospels, teaches us once more, that the
Gospels furnish a history of the Saviour, not a biography
of Jesus of Nazareth.
1 See ' Sketches of Jewish Social Life,' Edersheim, pp. 103, 104, and
' Life and Times,' vol. i. pp. 226-234.

THE BOYHOOD OF CHRIST.

In the House .of His Heavenly Father 31

CHAPTER VII.
IN THE HOUSE OF HIS HEAVENLY, AND IN THE HOME OF
HIS EARTHLY FATHER — THE TEMPLE OF JERUSALEM 
THE RETIREMENT AT NAZARETH.
(St. Luke ii. 41-52.)
Once only is the silence which lies on the history of
Christ's early life broken. It is to record what took place
on His first visit to the Temple.
In strict law, personal observance of the ordinances,
and hence attendance on the feasts at Jerusalem, devolved \
on a youth only when he was of age, that is, at thirteen
years. Then he became what was called ' a son of the
Commandment,' or ' of the Torah.' But, as a matter of
fact, the legal age was in this respect anticipated by two
years, or at least by one. It was in accordance with this
custom that, on the first Pascha after Jesus had passed
His twelfth year, His Parents took Him with them in the
' company ' of the Nazarenes to Jerusalem. The text
seems to indicate, that it was their wont to go up to the
Temple; and we mark that, although women were not
bound to make such personal appearance, Mary gladly
availed herself of what seems to have been the direction
of Hillel (followed also by other religious women, men
tioned in Rabbinic writings), to go up to the solemn
services of the Sanctuary. Politically, times had changed.
Archelaus was banished, and Judaea, Samaria, and Iduma3a\
were now incorporated into the Roman province of Syria,
under its Governor, or Legate, P. Sulpicius Quirinius. The
special administration of that part of Palestine was, how
ever, entrusted to a Procurator, whose ordinary residence
was at Cassarea.
It was, as we reckon it, in spring a.d. 9, that Jesus for
the first time went up to the Paschal Feast in Jerusalem.
A brief calm had fallen upon the land. The census and

32 Jesus the Messiah
taxing, with the consequent rising of the Nationalists with
Ezekias at their head, which had marked the accession of
Herod, misnamed the Great, were alike past. There was
nothing to provoke active resistance, and the party of the
Zealots, as the Nationalists were afterwards called, although
still existing, and striking deeper root in the hearts of the
people, was, for the time, rather ' the philosophical party ' —
their minds busy with an ideal, which their hands were not
yet preparing to make a reality. And so, when, according to
» Pa. xiii. 4 ; ancient wont,a the festive company from Nazareth,
JSAXvf-29 ' soon swelled by other bands, went up to Jerusa-
'Degrees'; ienl) chanting by the way those 'Psalms of
oxixiv.' Ascent ' b to the accompaniment of the flute,
they might implicitly yield themselves to the spiritual
thoughts kindled by such words.
When the pilgrims' feet stood within the gates of
Jerusalem, there could have been no difficulty in finding
hospitality, however crowded the City may have been on
such occasions — the more so when we remember the ex
treme simplicity of Eastern manners and wants, and the
abundance of provisions which the many sacrifices of the
season would supply. Glorious as a view of Jerusalem
must have seemed, to a child coming to it for the first time
from the retirement of a Galilean village, we must bear in
mind, that He Who now looked upon it was not an ordi
nary Child. But the one all-engrossing thought would be
of the Temple. As the pilgrim ascended the Mount, crested
by that symmetrically proportioned building, which could
hold within its gigantic girdle not fewer than 210,000
persons, his wonder might well increase at every step.
The Mount itself seemed like an island, abruptly rising
from out deep valleys, surrounded by a sea of walls,
palaces, streets, and houses, and crowned by a mass of
snowy marble and glittering gold, rising terrace upon
terrace. Altogether it measured a square of about 1,000
feet. At its north-western angle, and connected with it,
frowned the Castle of Antonia, held by the Roman garrison.1
¦ For a full description reference must be made to ' The Temple,
its Ministry and Services, &c,'

In the House of His Heavenly Father 33
In some part of this Temple, ' sitting in the midst of
the Doctors, both hearing them and asking them questions,'
we must look for the Child Jesus on the third and the
two following days of the Feast on which He first visited
the Sanctuary. Only on the two first days of the Feast of
Passover was personal attendance in the Temple necessary.
With the third day commenced the so-called half-holidays,
when it was lawful to return to one's home— a provision
of which, no doubt, many availed themselves. For the
Passover had been eaten, the festive sacrifice (or ChagigaK)
offered, and the first ripe barley reaped and brought to the
Temple, and waved as the Omer of first flour before the
Lord. Hence, in view of the well-known Rabbinic pro
vision, the expression in the Gospel-narrative concerning
• st. Luke the ' Parents ' of Jesus, ' when they had fulfilled
**• 4i the days,' a cannot necessarily imply that Joseph
and the Mother of Jesus had remained in Jerusalem during
the whole Paschal week. We read in the Talmud that
the members of the Temple-Sanhedrin, who on ordinary.
days sat as a Court of Appeal from the close of the Morn-I
ing to the time of the Evening Sacrifice, were wont on!
Sabbaths and feast-days to come out upon ' the Terrace ' of
the Temple, and there to teach. In such popular instruct |
tion the utmost latitude of questioning would be given]
It is in this audience, which sat on the ground, sur4
rounding and mingling with the Doctors — and hence!
during, not after the Feast — that we must seek the Child]
Jesus. The presence and questioning of a Child of that age
did not necessarily imply anything so extraordinary, as to
convey the idea of supernaturalness to those Doctors or
'others in the audience. Jewish tradition gives other in
stances of precocious and strangely advanced students.
Besides, scientific theological learning would not be neces
sary to take part in such popular discussions. If we may
judge from later arrangements, not only in Babylon, but in
Palestine, there were two kinds of public lectures, and two
kinds of students. The first, or- more scientific lectures,
implied considerable preparation on the part ofthe lecturing D

34 Jesus the Messiah
Rabbis, and at least some Talmudic knowledge on the part
of the attendants. On the other hand, there were Students
of the Court, who during ordinary lectures sat separated
from the regular students by a kind of hedge, outside, as
it were in the Court, some of whom seem to have been
ignorant even of the Bible. The lectures addressed to
such a general audience would, of course, be of a very
different character.
But if there was nothing so unprecedented as to render
His Presence and questioning marvellous, yet all who
heard Him ' were amazed ' at His ' combinative insight '
and ' discerning answers.' Judging by what we know of
such discussions, we infer that His questioning may have
been connected with the Paschal solemnities. Or perhaps
He would lead up by His questions to their deeper mean
ing, as it was to be unfolded, when Himself was offered up,
' the Lamb of God, Which taketh away the sin of the
world.' Other questions also almost force themselves on the
mind — most notably this : whether on the occasion of this
His first visit to the Temple, the "Virgin-Mother had told her
Son the history of His Infancy, and of what had happened
when, for the first time, He had been brought to the
Temple. It would almost seem so, if we might judge from
the contrast between the Virgin-Mother's complaint about
the search of His father and of her, and'His own emphatic
appeal to the business of His Father. But most sur
prising — truly wonderful it must have seemed to Joseph,
and even to the Mother of Jesus, that the meek, quiet
Child should have been found in such company, and so
engaged. The reply of Jesus to the expostulation of them
who had sought Him ' sorrowing ' these three days, sets
clearly these three things before us. He had been so
entirely absorbed by the awakening thought of His Being
and Mission, however kindled, as to be not only neglectful,
but forgetful of all around. Secondly : we may venture to
say, that He now realised that this was emphatically His
Father's House. And, thirdly : so far as we can judge, it
was then and there that, for the first time, He felt tho

JESUS IN THE TEMPLE.

In the Home of His Earthly Father 35
strong and irresistible impulse — that Divine necessity of
His Being — to be ' about His Father's business.'
A further, though to us it seems a downward step, was
the quiet, immediate, unquestioning return of Jesus to
Nazareth with His Parents, and His willing submission to
them while there. It was not self-exinanition but self-
submission, all the more glorious in proportion to the
greatness of that Self. This constant contrast before her
eyes only deepened in the heart of Mary the ever-present
impression of ' all those matters, of which she was the
most cognisant.
With His return to Nazareth began Jesus' life of
youth and early manhood, with all of inward and outward
development, of heavenly and earthly approbation which it
•st. Luke a. carried.8 Whether or not He went to Jerusalem
82 on recurring Feasts, we know not, and need not
inquire. Other influences were at their silent work to weld
His inward and outward development, and to determine the
manner of His later Manifesting of Himself. We assume
that the school-education of Jesus must have ceased soon
after His return to Nazareth.
Jewish home-life, especially in the country, was of
the simplest. Only the Sabbath and festivals, whether
domestic or public, brought what of the best lay within
reach. The same simplicity would prevail in dress and
manners. We cannot here discuss the vexed question
whether ' the brothers and sisters ' of Jesus were such in
the real sense, or step-brothers and sisters, or else cousins,
though it seems to us as if the primary meaning of the
terms would scarcely have been called in question, but foT
a theory of false asceticism, and an undervaluing
Matt?.' it"; of the sanctity of the married estate.b But,
?*¦' st^Matt "whatever the precise relationship between Jesus
xi. 46 ; xiii. and these ' brothers and sisters,' it must, on any
Markiii. 31; theory, have been of the closest, and exercised
uficoSfii its influence upon Him.
s ; 'Gai. i. 19 Passing over Joses or Joseph, of whose his
tory we know next to nothing, we would venture to infer
from the Epistle of St. James, that his religious views had
d2

36 Jesus the Messiah
originally been cast in the mould of Shammai. Of His'
cousin Simon1 we know that he had belonged to the
Nationalist party, since he is expressly so designated
• st Luke (Zelotes* Gananoeanv). Lastly, there are in the
yi. is ; Acta Epistle of St. Jude, one undoubted and another
i st. Mark probable reference to two of those (Pseudepi-
"*¦ 18 graphic) Apocalyptic books, which at that time
marked one deeply interesting phase of the Messianic out
look of" Israel.0 We have thus within the nar-
vvfuTisto row circle of Christ's Family-Life— not to speak
Bnoeh°an°d of any intercourse with the sons of Zebedee, who
v. 9 probably probably were also His cousins — the three most
Assum. of hopeful and pure Jewish tendencies, brought into
""' """ constant contact with Jesus: in Pharisaism, the
teaching of Shammai; then, the Nationalist ideal; and,
finally, the hope of a glorious Messianic future. To these
there should probably be added at least knowledge of the
lonely preparation of His kinsman John, who, though
certainly not an Essene, had, from the necessity of his
calling, much in his outward bearing that was akin to
them. From what are, necessarily, only suggestions, we turn
again to what is certain in connection with His Family-
Life and its influences. From St. Mark vi. 3, we may
infer with great probability, though not with absolute cer-
<• comp. st. tainty,d that He had adopted the trade of Joseph.
65? stJohn Among the Jews the contempt for manual labour,
vi. 42 which was one of the characteristics of heathenism,
did not exist. On the contrary, it was deemed a religious
duty, frequently and most earnestly insisted upon, to learn
some trade, provided it did not minister to luxury, nor
tend to lead away from personal observance of the Law.
There was not such separation between rich and poor as
with us, and while wealth might confer social distinction,
the absence of it in no way implied social inferiority.
The reverence towards parents, as a duty higher than
any of outward observance, and the love of brethren, which
1 I regard this Simon (Zelotes) as the son of Clopas (brother of
Joseph, the Virgin's Husband) and of Mary.

A Voice in the Wilderness 37
Jesus had learned in His home, form, so to speak, the
natural basis of many of His teachings. They give us
also an insight into the family-life of Nazareth. Even the
games of children, as well as festive gatherings of families,
find their record in the words and the life of Christ. This
also is characteristic of His past. And so are His deep
sympathy with all sorrow and suffering, and His love for
the family circle, as evidenced in the home of Lazarus.
That He spoke Hebrew, and used and quoted the Scrip
tures in the original, has been shown,1 although, no doubt,
He understood Greek, possibly also Latin.
Thus, Christ in His home-life and surroundings, as
well as by the prevailing ideas with which "He was brought
into contact, was in sympathy with all the highest tenden
cies of His people and time. Beyond this, into the mys
tery of His inner converse with God, the Unfolding of His
spiritual receptiveness, and the increasing communication
from above, we dare not enter. It is best to remain con
tent with the simple account of the Evangelic narrative;
' Jesus increased in favour with God and man.'

CHAPTER VIII.

A VOICE IN THE WILDERNESS.
(St. Matt. iii. 1-12 ; St. Mark i. 2-8 ; St. Luke iii. 1-18.)
A SILENCE, even more complete than that concerning the
early life of Jesus, rests on the thirty years and more,
which intervened between the birth and the open forth-
showing of John in his character as Forerunner of the
Messiah. Only his outward and inward development, and
a st. Luke i. nls being ' in the deserts,' are briefly indicated.3
80 At last that solemn silence was broken by an
appearance, a proclamation, a rite, and a ministry as
startling as that of Elijah had been. In many respects,
indeed, the two messengers and their times bore singular
1 See ' Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah/ vol. i. p. 234.

38 Jesus the Messiah
likeness. John came suddenly out of the wilderness of
Judaea, as Elijah from the wilds of Gilead ; John bore the
same strange ascetic appearance as his predecessor; the
message of John was the counterpart of that of Elijah;
his baptism that of Elijah's novel rite on Mount Carmel.
And, as if to make complete the parallelism, even the more
minute details surrounding the life of Elijah found their
counterpart in that of John.
Palestine, the ancient kingdom of Herod, was now
divided into four parts : Judaea being under the direct.
administration of Rome, two other tetrarchies under the
rule of Herod's sons (Herod Antipas and Philip), while
the small principality of Abilene was governed by Ly sa-
nias, of whom no details can be furnished.
Herod Antipas, whose rule extended over forty-three
years, reigned over Galilee and Peraea— the districts which
were respectively the principal sphere of the Ministry of
Jesus and of John the Baptist. Like his brother Arche
laus, Herod Antipas possessed in an even aggravated form
most of the vices, without any of the greater quahties, of
his father. Of deeper religious feelings or convictions he
was entirely destitute, though his conscience occasionally
misgave, if it did not restrain, him. The inherent weak
ness of his character left him in the absolute control of his
wife, to the final ruin of his fortunes. He was covetous,
avaricious, luxurious, and utterly dissipated ; suspicious,
and with a good deal of that fox-cunning which, especially
in the East, often forms the sum total of state-craft. Like
his father, he indulged a taste for building — always
taking care to propitiate Rome by dedicating all to the
Emperor. A happier account can be given of Philip, the son of
Herod the Great and Cleopatra of Jerusalem. He was a
moderate and just ruler, and his reign of thirty-seven
years contrasted favourably with that of his kinsmen. The
land was quiet and prosperous, and the people contented
and happy.
As regards the Roman rule, matters had greatly
changed for the worse since the mild sway of Augustus.

A Voice in the Wilderness 39
When Tiberius succeeded to the Empire, and Judaea
was a province, merciless harshness characterised the
administration of Palestine; while the Emperor himself
was bitterly hostile to Judaism and the Jews, and that
although, personally, openly careless of all religion.
St. Luke significantly joins together, as the highest
religious authority in the land, the names of Annas and
Caiaphas. The former had been appointed by Quirinius.
After holding the Pontificate for nine years, he was de
posed, and succeeded by others, of whom the fourth was
his son-in-law Caiaphas, in whom the Procurator at last
found a sufficiently submissive instrument of Roman
tyranny. The character of the High-Priests during the
whole of that period is described in the Talmud in terrible
language. And although there is no evidence that ' the
house of Annas ' was guilty of the same sins as some of
their successors, they are included in the woes pronounced
on the corrupt leaders of the priesthood, whom the Sanc
tuary is represented as bidding depart from the sacred
precincts, which their presence defiled.
Such a combination of political and religious distress,
surely, constituted the time of Israel's utmost need. As
yet no attempt had been made by the people to right
themselves by armed force. In these circumstances, the
cry that the Kingdom of Heaven was near at hand, and
the call to preparation for it, must have awakened echoes
throughout the land, and startled the most careless and
unbelieving. It was, according to St. Luke's exact state
ment, in the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar
— reckoning, as provincials would do, from his co-regency
with Augustus (which commenced two years before his
sole reign) — in the year 26 a.d. According to our former
computation, Jesus would then be in His thirtieth year.
The scene of John's first public appearance was in ' the
wilderness of Judaea,' that is, the wild, desolate district
around the mouth of the Jordan. We know not whether
• st. Luke J°hu baptized in this place, nor yet how long he
m- 3 continued there ; but we are expressly told that
his stay was not confined to that locality.0 Soon afterwards

40 Jesus the Messiah
we find him at Bethany a (A.V. Bethabara), which is farther
•st. John i. UP the stream. The outward appearance and
28 the habits of the Messenger corresponded to the
character and object of his Mission. Neither his dress nor
his food was that of the Essenes ; and the former, at least,
like that of Eliiah,b whose mission he was now
t2Kingsi-8 to 'fulfil.'
This was evidenced alike by what he preached, and by
the new symbolic rite, from which he derived the name of
' Baptist.' The grand burden of his message was : the
announcement of the approach of 'the Kingdom of
Heaven,' and the needed preparation of his hearers for
that Kingdom. The latter he sought, positively, by ad
monition, and, negatively, by warnings, while he directed
all to the Coming One, in Whom that Kingdom would
become, so to speak, individualised.
Concerning this ' Kingdom of Heaven,' which was the
great message of John, and the great work of Christ Him
self, we may here say, that it is the whole Old Testament
sublimated, and the whole New Testament realised. This
rule of heaven and Kingship of Jehovah was the very sub
stance of the Old Testament ; the object of the calling and
mission of Israel ; the meaning of all its ordinances,
whether civil or religious ; the underlying idea of all its
institutions. It explained alike the history of the people,
the dealings of God with them, and the prospects opened
up by the prophets. It constituted alike the real contrast
between Israel and the nations of antiquity, and Israel's
real title to distinction.
A review of many passages on the subject shows that,
in the Jewish mind, the expression ' Kingdom of Heaven '
referred, not so much to any particular period, as in
general to the Rule of God — as acknowledged, manifested,
and eventually perfected. Very often it is the equivalent
for personal acknowledgment of God : the taking upon
oneself of the ' yoke ' of ' the Kingdom,' or of the com
mandments — the former preceding and conditioning the
latter. As we pass from the Jewish ideas of the time to the

A Voice in the Wilderness 41
teaching of the New Testament, we feel that while there
is complete change of spirit, the form in which the idea
of the Kingdom of Heaven is presented is substantially
similar. John came to call Israel to submit to the Reign of
God, about to be manifested in Christ. Hence, on the one
hand, he called them to repentance — a ' change of mind ' —
with all that this implied ; and, on the other, pointed them
to the Christ, in the exaltation of His Person and Office.
Thus the symbolic action by which this preaching was
accompanied might be designated ' the baptism of repent
ance.' For what John preached, that he also symbolised by a
rite which, though not in itself, yet in its application, was
wholly new. Hitherto the Law had it, that those who had
contracted Levitical defilement were to immerse before
offering sacrifice. Again, it was prescribed that such
Gentiles as became ' proselytes of righteousness,' or ' pro
selytes of the Covenant,' were to be admitted to full par
ticipation in the privileges of Israel by the threefold rites
of circumcision, baptism, and sacrifice — the immersion
being, as it were, the acknowledgment and symbolic
removal of moral defilement, corresponding to that of
Levitical uncleanness. But never before had it been pro
posed that Israel should undergo a ' baptism of repentance,'
although there are indications of a deeper insight into the
meaning of Levitical baptisms. Was it intended that the
hearers of John should give this as evidence of their re
pentance, that like persons defiled they sought purifica
tion, and like strangers they sought admission among the
people who took on themselves the Rule of God ? These
two ideas would, indeed, have made it truly a ' baptism of
repentance.' But it seems difficult to suppose that the
people would have been prepared for such admissions ; or,
at least, that there should have been no record of the mode
in which a change so deeply spiritual was brought about.
• Oomp. Gen. May it not rather have been that as, when the first
xxxv. 2 Covenant was made, Moses was directed to pre
pare Israel by symbolic baptism of their persons a and their

42 Jesus the Messiah
garments,8, so the initiation of the new Covenant, by which
•Ex. six. 10, the people were to enter into the Kingdom of
14 ' God, was preceded by another general symbolic
baptism of those who would be the true Israel, and receive,
or take on themselves, the Law from God ?

CHAPTER IX.
THE BAPTISM OF JESUS.

(St. Matt. iii. 13-17; St. Mark i. 7-11; St. Luke ill. 21-23;
St. John i. 32-34.)
The more we think of it, the better do we seem to under
stand how that ' Voice crying in the wilderness : Repent !
for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand,' awakened echoes
throughout the land, and brought from city, village, and
hamlet strangest hearers. For once, every distinction was
levelled. Pharisee and Sadducee, outcast publican and
semi-heathen soldier, met here as on common ground.
Their bond of union was the common ' hope of Israel '— ~-
the only hope that remained : that of ' the Kingdom".'
That Kingdom had been the last word of the Old
Testament. As the thoughtful Israelite, whether Eastern
or Western, viewed even the central part of his worship in
sacrifices, and remembered that his own Scriptures had
spoken of them in terms which pointed to something be
yond their offering,1 he must have felt that ' the blood of
bulls and of goats, and the ashes of an heifer sprinkling
the unclean,' could only ' sanctify to the purifying of the
flesh;' that, indeed, the whole body of ceremonial and
ritual ordinances ' could not make him that did the service
perfect as pertaining to the conscience.' They were only
' the shadow of good things to come ; ' of ' a new ' and ' better
„ Heb ^ covenant, established upon better promises.' b It
13, 9 ; x. i; was otherwise with the thought of the Kingdom.
Each successive link in the chain of prophecy,
1 Comp. 1 Sam. xv. 22 ; Ps. xl. 6-8 ; li. 7, 17 ; Is. i. 11-13 ; Jer. vii.
2ii, 23 ; Amos v. 21, 22 ; Ecclus. vii. 9 ; xxxiv. 18, 19 ; tttt 1, 7.

The Baptism of Jesus 43
even the wild fantasies of Apocalyptic liteiature, bound
Israel anew to this hope.
This great expectancy would be strung to utmost ten
sion during the pressure of outward circumstances more
hopeless than any hitherto experienced. And now the cry
had been suddenly raised : ' The Kingdom of Heaven is
at hand!' It was heard in the wilderness of Judasa,
within a few hours' distance from Jerusalem. No wonder
Pharisee and Sadducee flocked to the spot. They would
not see anything in the messenger that could have given
their expectations a rude shock. His was not a call to
armed resistance, but to repentance, such as all knew and
felt must precede the Kingdom. The hope which he held
out was not of earthly possessions, but of purity. His
appearance would command respect, and his character was
in accordance with his appearance. Not rich nor yet
Pharisaic garb with wide fringes, bound with many-coloured
or even priestly girdle, but the old prophet's poor raiment
and a leathern girdle. Not a luxurious life, but one
of meanest fare. ' Not a reed shaken by the wind,' but
unbendingly firm in deep and settled conviction. For
himself he sought nothing; for them he had only one
absorbing thought : The Kingdom was at hand, the King
was coming — let them prepare !
Such entire absorption in his mission, which leaves us
in ignorance of even the details of his later activity, must
have given force to his message. And still the voice,
everywhere proclaiming the same message, travelled up
ward, along the winding Jordan which cleft the land
of promise. It was probably the autumn of the year
779 (a.U.C.), which, it may be noted, was a Sabbatic
year. Released from business and agriculture, the mul
titudes flocked around him as he passed on his Mission.
He had reachtl what seems to have been the most
northern point of his Mission-journey, Beth-Abara (' the
house of passage,' or 'of shipping') — according to the
ancient reading, Bethany ('the house of shipping')— one
„ st. John i. of the fords across the Jordan into Perasa. Here
2S he baptized.* But long before John had reached

44 Jesus the Messiah
that spot, tidings of his word and work must have come
even into the retirement of Jesus' home-life.
From earliest ages it has been a question why Jesus
went to be baptized. We need not seek for any ulterior
motive. The one question with Him was, as He afterwards
put it: 'The Baptism of John, whence was it? from
heaven, or of men ? ' (St. Matt. xxi. 25). That question
once answered, there could be no longer doubt nor hesita
tion. He went not from any other motive than that it
was of God. The Baptism of Christ was the last act of
His private life ; and, emerging from its waters in prayer,
He learned, when His business was to commence, and
how it would be done.
Alone the two met — probably for the first time in their
lives. Over that which passed between them Holy Scrip
ture has laid the veil of reverent silence, save as regards
the beginning and the outcome of their meeting, which it
was necessary for us to know. When Jesus came, John
knew Him not. And even when he knew Him, that was
not enough. For so great a witness as that which John
was to bear, a present and visible demonstration from
heaven was to be given.
We can understand how what he knew of Jesus, and
what he now saw and heard, must have overwhelmed John
with the sense of Christ's transcendentally higher dignity,
and led him to hesitate about, if not to refuse, administer
ing to Him the rite of Baptism. Not because it was ' the
baptism of repentance,' but because he stood in the
presence of Him ' the latchet of Whose shoes ' he was ' not
worthy to loose.' And yet in so ' forbidding ' Him, and
even suggesting his own baptism by Jesus, John forgot
and misunderstood his mission. John himself was never
to be baptized ; he only held open the door of the new
Kingdom ; himself entered it not, and he that was least in
that Kingdom was greater than he. Jesus overcame his
reluctance by falling back upon the simple and clear
principle which had brought Him to Jordan : ' It becometh
us to fulfil all righteousness.' Thus putting aside, with
out argument, the objection of the Baptist, He followed

The Baptism of Jesus 45
the Hand that pointed Him to the open door of 'the
Kingdom.' Jesus stepped out of the baptismal waters ' praying.'0
• st. Luke One prayer, the only one which He taught His
*"• 21 disciples, recurs to our minds.
As the prayer of Jesus winged heavenwards, His
solemn response to the call of the Kingdom — ' Here am I ; '
' Lo, I come to do Thy Will ' — the answer came, which at
the same time was also the predicted sign to the Baptist.
\ Heaven seemed cleft, and, in bodily shape like a dove, the
Holy Ghost descended on Jesus, remaining on Him. Here,
at these waters, was the Kingdom into which Jesus had
entered in the fulfilment of all righteousness f and from
them He emerged as its Heaven-designated, Heaven-
qualified, and Heaven-proclaimed King. As such He had
received the fulness of the Spirit for His Messianic work.
As such also the voice from Heaven proclaimed it, to Him
and to John : ' Thou art (' this is ') My Beloved Son, in
Whom I am well pleased.' The ratification of the great
Davidic promise, the announcement of the fulfilment of its
predictive import in Psalm ii., was God's solemn declara
tion of Jesus as the Messiah, His public proclamation of it,
and the beginning" of Jesus' Messianic work. And so the
» st. John i. Baptist understood it,when he ' bare record ' that
3* He was ' the Son of God.' b

CHAPTER X.
THE TEMPTATION OF JESUS.
(St. Matt. iv. 1-11 ; St. Mark i. 12, 13; St. Luke iv. 1-13.)
The proclamation and inauguration of the ' Kingdom of
Heaven ' at such a time, and under such circumstances,
was one of the great antitheses of history. A similar, even
greater antithesis, was the commencement of the Ministry
of Christ. From the Jordan to the wilderness with its
wild beasts ; from the devout acknowledgment of the

46 Jesus the Messiah
Baptist, the consecration and filial prayer of Jesus, the
descent of the Holy Spirit, and the heard testimony of
Heaven, to the utter forsakenness, the felt want and weak
ness of Jesus, and the assaults of the Devil — no contrast
more startling could be conceived.
And yet that at His consecration to the Kingship of the
Kingdom, Jesus should have become clearly conscious of all
that it implied in a world of sin; that the Divine method by
which that Kingdom should be established, should have been
clearly brought out, and its reality tested.; and that the
King, as Representative and Founder of the Kingdom,
should have encountered and defeated the representative,
founder, and holder of the opposite power, ' the prince of
this world ' — these are thoughts which must arise in every
one who believes in any Mission of the Christ. We can
understand how a Life and Work such as that of Jesus
would commence with ' the Temptation,' but none other
than His. Judaism never conceived such an idea ; because
it never conceived a Messiah like Jesus. The patriarchs
indeed had been tried and proved ; so had Moses, and all the
heroes of faith in Israel. And Rabbinic legend, enlarging
upon the Biblical narratives, has much to tell of the original
envy of the Angels ; of the assaults of Satan upon Abraham,
when about to offer up Isaac ; of attempted resistance by
the Angels to Israel's reception of the Law ; and of the
final vain endeavour of Satan to take away the soul of
Moses. Foolish, and even blasphemous, as some of these
legends are, thus much at least clearly stands out, that
spiritual trials must precede spiritual elevation. In their
own language : ' The Holy One, blessed be His Name, does
not elevate a man to dignity till He has first tried and
searched him ; and if he stands in temptation, then He
raises him to dignity.'
But so far from any idea obtaining that Satan was to
assault the Messiah, in a well-known passage the Arch
enemy is represented as overwhelmed and falling on his
face at sight of Him, and owning his complete defeat.
Thus, though such ideas were, indeed, present to the
Jewish mind, they were so in a sense opposite to the

The Temptation of Jesus 47
Gospel narratives. But if the narrative cannot be traced
to Rabbinic legend, the question may be raised if it be not
an adaptation of an Old Testament narrative, such as the
account of the forty days' fast of Moses on the mount, or of
Elijah in the wilderness ? Viewing the Old Testament in
its unity, and the Messiah as the apex in the column of its
history, we admit — or rather, we must expect — throughout
points of correspondence between Moses, Elijah, and the
Messiah. In fact, these may be described as marking the
three stages in the history of the Covenant. Moses was
its giver, Elijah its restorer, the Messiah its renewer and
perfecter. And as such they all had, in a sense, a similar
outward consecration for their work. But that neither Moses
nor Elijah was assailed by the Devil, constitutes not the
only, though a vital, difference between the fast of Moses
and Elijah, and that of Jesus. Moses fasted in the middle,
Elijah at the end, Jesus at the beginning of His ministry.
Moses fasted in the Presence of God ; Elijah alone ; Jesus
assaulted by the Devil. Moses had been called up by God ;
Elijah had gone forth in the bitterness of his own spirit ;
Jesus was driven by the Spirit. Moses failed after his
forty days' fast, when in indignation he cast the Tables of
the Law from him ; Elijah failed before his forty days'
fast ; Jesus was assailed for forty days and endured the
trial. Moses was angry against Israel ; Elijah despaired
of Israel ; Jesus overcame for Israel.
Before proceeding further, a most difficult and solemn
question arises : In what respect could Jesus Christ, the
Perfect Sinless Man, the Son of God, have been tempted
of the Devil ? That He was so tempted is of the very
essence of this narrative, confirmed throughout His after
life, and laid down as a fundamental principle in the
• Heb. iv teaching and faith of the Church." On the other-
is hand, temptation without the inward correspond-*
ence of existent sin is not only unthinkable, so far as man
• st. James is concerned,b but temptation without the possi-
"-14 bility of sin. seems unreal — a kind of Docetism.1
1 The heresy which represents the Body of Christ as only apparent
not real.

48 Jesus the Messiah
Yet the very passage of Holy Scripture in which Christ's
equality with us as regards all temptation is expressed,
also emphatically excepts from it this one particular, sm,a
• Heb. iv. not only in the sense that Christ actually did not
*5st. James sm> nor merely in this, that ' our concupiscence ' b
Lu had- no part in His temptations, but emphatically
in this also, that the notion of sin has to be wholly ex
cluded from our thoughts of Christ's temptations.
To obtain, if we can, a clearer understanding of this
subject, two points must be kept in view. Christ's was
real, though unfallen Human Nature; and Christ's Human
was in inseparable union with His Divine Nature. Jesus
voluntarily took upon Himself human nature with all its
infirmities and weaknesses — but without the moral taint
of the Fall : without sin. It was human nature, in itself
capable of sinning, but not having sinned. The position
of the first Adam was that of being capable of not sinning,
not that of being incapable of sinning. The first Adam
would have been ' perfected' — or passed from the capability
of not sinning to the incapability of sinning — by obedience.
That 'obedience' — or absolute submission to the Will of
God — was the grand outstanding characteristic of Christ's
work ; but it was so, because He was not only the Un-
sinning, Unfallen Man, but also the Son of God. To sum
up : The Second Adam, morally unfallen, though volun
tarily subject to all the conditions of our Nature, was,
with a peccable Human Nature, absolutely impeccable
as being also the Son of God— a peccable Nature, yet an
impeccable Person : the God-Man, ' tempted in regard to
all (things) in like manner (as we), /without (excepting)
sin.' A few sentences are here required in explanation of
seeming differences in the Evangelical narration of the
event. The historical part of St. John's Gospel begins
after the Temptation — that is, with the actual Ministry
of Christ. If St. Mark only summarises in his own brief
manner, he supplies the twofold notice that Jesus was
'driven' into the wilderness, 'and was with the wild
beasts,' which is in fullest internal agreement with the

The Temptation of Jesus 49
detailed narratives of St. Matthew and St. Luke. The
only noteworthy difference between these two is that
St. Matthew places the Temple-temptation before that of
the world-kingdom, while St. Luke inverts this order,
probably because his narrative was primarily intended for
Gentile readers, to whose mind this might present itself
as to them the true gradation of temptation. To St.
Matthew we owe the notice, that after the Temptation
' Angels came and ministered ' unto Jesus ; to St. Luke,
that the Tempter only ' departed from Him for a season.'
During the whole forty days of Christ's stay in the wil
derness His temptation continued, though it only attained
its high-point at the last, when, after the long fast, He
felt the weariness and weakness of hunger. As fasting
occupies but a very subordinate place in the teaching of
Jesus, and as, so far as we know, He exercised on no other
occasion such ascetic practices, we are left to infer internal,
as well as external, necessity for it in the present instance.
The former is easily understood in His pre-occupation ;
the latter must have had for its object to reduce Him to
utmost outward weakness, by the depression of all the
vital powers. We regard it as a psychological fact that,
under such circumstances, of all mental faculties the
memory alone is active, indeed almost preternaturally
active. During the preceding thirty-nine days the plan,
or rather the future, of the Work to which He had been
consecrated, must have been always before Him. It is
impossible that He hesitated for a moment as to the means
by which He was to establish the Kingdom of God. The
unchangeable convictions which He had already attained
must have stood out before Him : that His Father's business
was the Kingdom of God ; that He was furnished to it,
not by outward weapons, but by the abiding Presence of
the Spirit ; above all, that absolute submission to the Will
of God was the way to it, nay, itself the Kingdom of God.
It will be observed that it was on these very points that
the final attack of the Enemy was directed in the utmost
weakness of Jesus. But, on the other hand, the Tempter
could not have failed to assault Him with considerations E

50 Jesus the Messiah
which He must have felt to be true. How could He hope,
alone, and with such principles, to stand against Israel ?
He knew their views and feelings ; and as, day by day,
the sense of utter loneliness and forsakenness increasingly
gathered around Him, in His increasing faintness and
weakness, the seeming hopelessness of such a task as He
had undertaken must have grown upon Him with almost
overwhelming power. Alternately, the temptation to de
spair, presumption, or the cutting short of the contest
in some decisive manner, must have presented itself to
His mind, or rather have been presented to it, by the
Tempter. .
And this was, indeed, the essence of His last three
great temptations; which, as the whole contest, resolved
themselves into the one question of absolute submission to
the Will of God. If He submitted to it, it must be suffer
ing — suffering to the bitter end ; to the extinction of life,
in the agonies of the Cross ; denounced, betrayed, rejected
by His people. And when thus beaten about by tempta
tion, His powers reduced to the lowest ebb of faintness, all
the more vividly would memory hold out the facts so well
known. : the scene lately enacted by the banks of Jordan,
and the two great expectations of His own people, that the
Messiah was to head Israel from the Sanctuary of the
Temple, and that all kingdoms of the world were to become
subject to Him.
He is weary with the contest, faint with hunger, alone
in that wilderness. He must, He will absolutely submit
to the Will of God. But can this be the Will of God ?
One word of power, and the scene would be changed. By
His Will the Son of God, as the Tempter suggests — not,
however, calling thereby in question His Sonship, but
rather proceeding on its admitted reality — can change the
stones into bread. He can do miracles — put an end to
present want and question, and, as visibly the possessor of
absolute miraculous power, the goal is reached ! But this
would really have been to change the idea of Old Testament
miracle into the heathen conception of magic, which was
absolute power inherent in an individual, without moral

THE TEMPTATION.

The Temptation of Jesus 51
purpose* The moral purpose — the grand moral purpose
in all that was of God — was absolute submission to the
Will of God. His Spirit had driven Him into that wil
derness. His circumstances were God-appointed, and
where He so appoints them, He will support us in them,
even as in the failure of bread, He supported Israel by
the manna.a Jesus does more than not succumb :
He conquers. The Scriptural reference to a better
life upon the Word of God marks more than the end of
the contest ; it marks the conquest of Satan. He emerges
on the other side triumphant, with this expression of His
assured conviction of the sufficiency of God.
It cannot be despair — and He cannot take up His
Kingdom alone, in the exercise of mere power. If it be
not despair of God, let it be presumption !
The Spirit of God had driven Jesus into the wilderness ;
the spirit of the Devil now carried Him to Jerusalem. Jesus
stands on the lofty pinnacle of the Tower, or of the Temple-
porch, presumably that on which every day a Priest was
stationed to watch, as the pale morning light passed over
the hills of Judaea far oft* to Hebron, to announce it as
the signal for offering the morning sacrifice. In the next
temptation Jesus stands on the watch-post which the
white-robed Priest has just quitted. Fast the morning
light is spreading over the land. In the Priests' Court
below Him the morning-sacrifice has been offered. The
massive Temple-gates are slowly opening, and the blast of
the Priests' silver trumpets is summoning Israel to begin
a new day by appearing before their Lord. Now then let
Him descend, Heaven-borne, into the midst of Priests and
people. What shouts of acclamation would greet His
appearance ! What homage of worship would be His ! The
goal can at once be reached, and that at the head of
believing Israel.
Jesus is surveying the scene. By His side is the
Tempter. The goal might indeed thus be reached; but
not the Divine goal, nor in God's way — and, as so often,
Scripture itself explained and guarded the Divine promise
by a preceding Divine command. And thus once more
E 2

52 Jesus the Messiah
Jesus not only is not overcome, but He overcomes by
absolute submission to the Will of God.
To submit to the Will of God! But is not this to
acknowledge His authority, and the order and disposition
which He has made of all things ? Once more the scene
changes. They have turned their backs upon Jerusalem
and the Temple. Behind are also all popular prejudices,
narrow nationalism, and limitations. They no longer
breathe the stifled air, thick with the perfume of incense.
They have taken their flight into God's wide world. There
they stand on the top pf some very high mountain. Before
Him from out the cloud-land at the edge of the horizon
the world, in all its glory, beauty, strength, majesty, lies
unveiled. Its work, its might, its greatness, its art, its
thought, emerge into clear view. It is a world quite other
than that which the retiring Son of the retired Nazareth-
home had ever seen, that opens its enlarging wonders.
But passingly sublime as it must have appeared to the
Perfect Man, the God-Man — and to Him far more than to
us from His infinitely deeper appreciation of, and wider
sympathy with the good, the true, and the beautiful — He
had already overcome. It was, indeed, not ' worship,' but
homage which the Evil One claimed from Jesus, and that
on the apparently rational ground that, in its present state,
all this world ' was delivered ' unto him, and he exercised
the power of giving it to whom he would. But in this
very fact lay the answer to the suggestion. High above
this moving scene of glory and beauty arched the deep
blue of God's heaven, and brighter than the sun, which
poured its light over the sheen and dazzle beneath, stood
out the fact: 'I must be about My Father's business;'
above the din of far-off sounds rose the voice : ' Thy King
dom come ! ' Was not all this the Devil's to have and to
give, because it was not the Father's Kingdom, to which
Jesus had consecrated Himself? To destroy all this : to
destroy the works of the Devil, to abolish his kingdom, to
set man free from his dominion, was the very object of
Christ's Mission. On the ruins of the past shall the new
arise. It is to become the Kingdom of God ; and Christ's

The Temptation of Jesus 53
consecration to it is to be the corner-stone of its new
Temple. Those scenes are to be transformed into one of
higher worship ; those sounds to merge into a melody of
praise. An endless train, unnumbered multitudes from
afar, are to bring their gifts, to pour their wealth, to con
secrate their wisdom, to dedicate their beauty — to lay it all
in lowly worship as humble offering at His feet. And so
Satan's greatest becomes to Christ his coarsest temptation,
which He casts from Him ; and the words : ' Thou shalt
worship the Lord thy God, and Him only shalt thou serve,'
which now receive their highest fulfilment, mark not only
Satan's defeat and Christ's triumph, but the principle of
His Kingdom — of all victory and all triumph.
Foiled, defeated, the Enemy has spread his dark pinions
towards that far-off world of his, and covered it with their
shadow. The sun no longer glows with melting heat ; the
mists have gathered on the edge of the horizon, and en
wrapped the scene which has faded from view. And in
the cool and shade that followed have the Angels come and
ministered to His wants, both bodily and mental. He
would not yield to Jewish dream ; He did not pass from
despair to presumption ; and lo, after the contest, with no
reward as its object, all is His. He would not have Satan's
vassals as His legions, and all Heaven's hosts are at His
command. They had been overcome, these three temptations
against submission to the Will of God, present, personal,
and specifically Messianic. Yet all His life long there
were echoes of them : of the first, in the suggestion of His
» st. John brethren to show Himself a' ; of the second, in the
vii. 3-5 popular attempt to make Him a king, and per
haps also in what constituted the final idea of Judas
Iscariot; of the third, as being most plainly Satanic, in
the question of Pilate : ' Art Thou then a king ? '

54 Jesus the Messiah

CHAPTER XI.
THE DEPUTATION PROM JERUSALEM — THE THREE SECTS OF
THE PHARISEES, SADDUCEES, AND ESSENES.
(St. John i. 19-24.)
Apart from the carnal form which it bad taken, there
is something sublime in the continuance and intensity
of the Jewish expectation of the Messiah. It outlived
not only the delay of long centuries, but the persecutions
and scattering of the people ; it continued under the
disappointment of the Maccabees, the rule of a Herod,
the administration of a corrupt and contemptible Priest
hood, and, finally, the government of Rome as represented
by a Pilate ; nay, it grew in intensity almost in pro
portion as it seemed unlikely of realisation. These are
facts which show that the doctrine of the Kingdom, as the
sum and substance of Old Testament teaching, was the
very heart of Jewish religious life; while, at the same
time, they evidence a moral elevation which placed abstract
religious conviction far beyond the reach of passing events,
and clung to it with a tenacity which nothing could
loosen. Tidings of what these many months had occurred by
the banks of the Jordan must have early reached Jeru
salem, and ultimately stirred to the depths its religious
society, whatever its .preoccupation with ritual questions
or political matters. For it was not an ordinary move
ment, nor in connection with any of the existing parties,
religious or political. An extraordinary preacher, of
extraordinary appearance and habits, not aiming, like
others, after renewed zeal in legal observances, or increased
Levitical purity, but preaching repentance and moral
renovation in preparation for the coming Kingdom, and
sealing this novel doctrine with an equally, novel rite, had
drawn from town and country multitudes of all classes —
inquirers, penitents, and novices. The great and burning

The Deputation from Jerusalem 55
question seemed, what the real character and meaning of
it was ? or rather, whence did it issue, and whither did it
tend? The religious leaders of the people proposed to
answer this by instituting an inquiry through a trust
worthy deputation.
That the interview referred to occurred after the Bap
tism of Jesus, appears from the whole context. Similarly,
the statement that the deputation which came to John was
' sent from Jerusalem ' by ' the Jews ' implies that it pro
ceeded from authority, even if it did not bear more than a
semi-official character. For, although the expression ' Jews '
in the fourth Gospel generally conveys the idea of con
trast to the disciples of Christ (e.g. St. John vii. 15),
yet it refers to the people in their corporate capacity, that
is, as represented by their constituted religious authori-
• comp st ties-a On the other hand, it seems a legitimate
John v. 15, inference that, considering their own tendencies,
22 i xviii.'i2, and the political dangers connected with such a
step, the Sanhedrin of Jerusalem would not have
come to the formal resolution of sending a regular deputa
tion on such an inquiry. Moreover, a measure like this
would have been entirely outside their recognised mode of
procedure. It is quite true that judgment upon false
prophets and religious "seducers lay with it ; but the Bap
tist had not as yet said or done anything to lay him open
to such an accusation. If, nevertheless, it seems most
probable that ' the Priests and Levites ' came from the
Sanhedrin, we are led to the conclusion that theirs was an
informal mission, rather privately arranged than publicly
determined upon.
And with this the character of the deputies agrees.
' Priests and Levites ' — the colleagues of John the Priest
— would be selected for such an errand, rather than leading
Rabbinic authorities. The presence of the latter would,
indeed, have given to the movement an importance, if not
a sanction, which the Sanhedrin could not have wished.
Finally, it seems quite natural that such an informal in
quiry, set on foot most probably by the Sanhedrists, should
have been entrusted exclusively to the Pharisaic party.

56 Jesus the Messiah
It would in no way have interested the Sadducees ; and
• st. Matt, what members of that party had seen of John a
iii.7,&c. must have convinced them that his views and
aims lay entirely beyond their horizon.
The two great parties of Pharisees and Sadducees '
mark, not sects, but mental directions, such as in their
principles are natural and universal, and, indeed, appear
in connection with all metaphysical questions. The latter
originally represented a reaction from the Pharisees — the
moderate men, who sympathised with the later tendencies
of the Maccabees.
Without entering on the principles and supposed prac
tices of ' the fraternity ' or ' association ' of Pharisees,
which was comparatively small, numbering only about
6,000 members, the following particulars may be of in
terest. The object of the association was twofold: to
observe in the strictest manner, and according to tradi
tional law, all the ordinances concerning Levitical purity,
and to be extremely punctilious in all connected with
religious dues (tithes and all other dues). A person might
undertake only the second, without the first of these obli
gations. But he could not undertake the vow of Levitical
purity without also taking the obligation of all religious
dues. If he undertook both vows he was a Ghabher, or
Associate. Here there were four degrees, marking an
ascending scale of Levitical purity, or separation from all
that was profane. In opposition to these was the Am ha~
arets, or ' country people ' (the people which knew not, or
cared not for the law, and were regarded as ' cursed ').
The two great obligations of the ' official ' Pharisee, or
' Associate ' — that in regard to tithing b and that
si. 42 ; xvHi. in regard to Levitical purity — are pointedly re-
xiiiiS 23^**' ferred to by Christ.0 In both cases they are associ-
xiS39L4i^ a*ei^ with a want of corresponding inward reality,
xxiiL 25t-26 an<^ w**k hypocrisy. But the sayings of some
of the Rabbis in regard to Pharisaism and the
l For further particulars as to the origin and peculiar views and
practices of these parties see ' Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah/
Book i. ch. viii., and Book iii. ch. ii.

Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes 57
professional Pharisee are more withering than any in the
New Testament. Such an expression as ' the plague of
Pharisaism ' is not uncommon ; and a silly pietist, a clever
sinner, and a female Pharisee, are ranked among ' the
troubles of life.' The Sadducees had, indeed, some reason
for the taunt, that ' the Pharisees would by-and-by subject
the globe of the sun itself to their purifications,' the more
so that their assertions of purity were sometimes conjoined
with Epicurean maxims, betokening a very different state
of mind, such as, ' Make haste to eat and drink, for the
world which we quit resembles' a wedding feast.'
But it would be unjust to identify Pharisaism, as a
religious direction, with such embodiments of it, or even
with the official ' fraternity.' While it may be granted
that the tendency and logical sequence of their views and
practices were such, their system, as opposed to Saddu-
ceeism, had very serious bearings: dogmatic, ritual, and
legal. The fundamental dogmatic differences between the
Pharisees and Sadducees concerned : the rule of faith and
practice ; the ' after death ; ' the existence of angels and
spirits; and free will and predestination. In regard to
the first of these points, the Sadducees did not lay down
the principle of absolute rejection of all traditions as such,
but they were opposed to traditionalism as represented
and carried out by the Pharisees. When put down by
sheer weight of authority, they would probably carry the
controversy further, and retort on their opponents by an
appeal to Scripture as against their traditions, perhaps
ultimately even by an attack on traditionalism ; but always
as represented by the Pharisees. A careful examination
of the statements of Josephus on this subject will show
that they convey no more than this. That there was
sufficient ground for Sadducean opposition to Pharisaic
traditionalism, alike in principle and in practice, will
appear from the following quotation, -to which we add,
by way of explanation, that the wearing of phylacteries
was deemed by that party of Scriptural obligation, and
that the phylactery for the head was to consist (according

58 Jesus the Messiah
to tradition) of four compartments. ' Against the words
of the Scribes is more punishable than against the words
of Scripture. He who says, No phylacteries, so as to
transgress the words of Scripture, is not guilty (free) ; [he
who says] five compartments — to add to the words of
the Scribes — he is guilty.'
The second doctrinal difference between Pharisees and
Sadducees concerned the 'after death.' According to the
New Testament," the Sadducees denied the re-
xxii. 23* and surrection of the dead, while Josephus, going
saglSf Acta further, imputes to them denial of reward or
f^Jj |; punishment after death, and even the doctrine
that the soul perishes with the body. The latter
statement may be dismissed as among those inferences
which theological controversialists are too fond of im
puting to their opponents. But it is otherwise in regard
to their denial of the resurrection of the dead. Not only
Josephus, but the New Testament and Rabbinic writings,
attest this. The Mishnah expressly states that the
formula ' from age to age,' or rather ' from world to world,'
had been introduced as a protest against the opposite
theory; while the Talmud, which records disputations
between Gamaliel and the Sadducees on the subject of
the resurrection, expressly imputes the denial of this
doctrine to the ' Scribes of the Sadducees.' In fairness
it is perhaps only right to add that in the discussion
the Sadducees seem only to have actually denied that
there was proof for this doctrine in the Pentateuch, and
that they ultimately professed themselves convinced by
the reasoning of Rabbi Gamaliel. Whether or not their
opposition to the doctrine of the resurrection in the first
instance was prompted by rationalistic views, which they
endeavoured to support by an appeal to the letter of
the Pentateuch, as the source of traditionalism, it deserves
notice that in His controversy with the Sadducees Christ
appealed to the Pentateuch in proof of His teaching
Connected with this was the equally rationalistic
« Actsxxiii b °PPosrti°n to belief in Angels and Spirits.*
Remembering what the Jewish Angelology was.

Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes 59
one can scarcely wonder that in controversy the Sadducees
should have been led to the opposite extreme.
The last dogmatic difference between the two ' sects'
concerned the problem of man's free will and God's pre
ordination, or rather their compatibility. The difference
seems to have been this : that the Pharisees accentuated
God's pre-ordination, the Sadducees man's free will; and
that, while the Pharisees admitted only a partial influence
of the human element on what happened, or the co-opera
tion of the human with the Divine, the Sadducees denied
all absolute pre-ordination, and made man's choice of evil
or good, with its consequences of misery or happiness, to
depend entirely on the exercise of free will and self-
determination. The other differences between the Pharisees and
Sadducees can be easily and briefly summed up. They
concern ceremonial, ritual, and juridical questions. In
regard to the first, the opposition of the Sadducees to the
excessive scruples of the Pharisees on the subject of
Levitical defilements led to frequent controversy.
Even greater importance attached to differences on
ritual questions, although the controversy here was purely
theoretical. For the Sadducees, when in office, always
conformed to the prevailing Pharisaic practices. But
the Sadducean objection to pouring the water of libation
upon the altar on the Feast of Tabernacles, led to riot
and bloody reprisals on the only occasion on which it
seems to have been carried into practice.1 There were
also many other minor differences which need not here be
discussed. Among the divergences on juridical questions it may
be mentioned that the Sadducees only allowed marriage
with the ' betrothed,' and not with the actually espoused
widow of a deceased childless brother.2 Josephus, indeed,
1 For details about the observances on this festival, I must refer to
' The Temple, its Ministry and Services.'
2 The Sadducees in the Gospel argue on the Pharisaic theory,
apparently for the twofold object of casting ridicule on the doctrine of
the resurrection, and on the Pharisaic practice of marriage with the
espoused wife of a deceased brother.

60 Jesus the Messiah.
charges the Sadducees with extreme severity in criminal
matters ; but this must refer to the fact that the ingenuity
or punctiliousness of the Pharisees would afford to most
offenders a loophole of escape. On the other hand, such of
the diverging juridical principles of the Sadducees as are
attested on trustworthy authority, seem more in accord
ance with justice than those of the Pharisees.
With the exception of dogmatic differences, the con
troversy between the two parties turned on questions of
' canon-law.' Josephus tells us that the Pharisees com
manded the masses, and especially the female world, while
the Sadducees attached to their ranks only a minority, and
that belonging to the highest class. The leading priests
in Jerusalem formed, of course, part of that highest class
of society ; and from the New Testament and Josephus
we learn that the High-Priestly families belonged to the
Sadducean party.a But not a few of the
a Acts V 17 Pharisaic leaders were actually priests, while
the Pharisaic ordinances make more than ample recog
nition of the privileges and rights of the Priesthood. Even
as regards the deputation to the Baptist of ' Priests and
•> st. John i. Levites ' from Jerusalem, we are expressly told
J! that they ' were of the Pharisees.' b
The name Pharisees, ' Perushim,' ' separated ones,' was
not taken by the party itself, but given to it by their
opponents. From 1 Mace. ii. 42 ; vii. 1 3 ; 2 Mace. xiv. 6
it appears that originally they had taken the sacred
°P3xxx4- name °f Chasidim, or 'the pious.'0 This, no
xxxi.23- ' doubt, on the ground that they were truly
?vJ™i;8ix. those who, according to the directions of Ezra,d
Neh.'ix!2: nac* separated themselves ' from the'filthiness of
the heathen' (all heathen defilement) by carry
ing out the traditional ordinances.1 The derivation of the
name ' Sadducee ' has always been in dispute. But the
inference is at hand, that, while the 'Pharisees' would
arrogate to themselves the Scriptural name of Chasidim,
or 'the pious,' their opponents would retort that they
were satisfied to be Tsaddiqim, or ' righteous.' Thus the
1 Comp. generally, ' Sketches of Jewish Social Life,' pp. 230, 231.

Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes 6\
name of Tsaddiqim would become that of the party
opposing the Pharisees, that is, of the Sadducees.
There remains yet another party, mention of which
could not be omitted in any description of those times.
But while the Pharisees and Sadducees were parties within
the Synagogue, the Essenes1 were, although strict Jews,
yet separatists, and, alike in doctrine, worship, and prac
tice, outside the Jewish body ecclesiastic. Their numbers
amounted to only about 4,000. They are not mentioned
in the New Testament, and only very indirectly referred
to in Rabbinic writings. Their entire separation from all
who did not belong to their sect, the terrible oaths by
which they bound themselves to secrecy about their
doctrines, and which would prevent any free religious dis
cussion, as well as the character of what is known of their
views, would account for the scanty notices about them.
On one point, at least, our brief inquiry can leave no
doubt. The Essenes could never have been drawn either
to the person or the preaching of John the Baptist.
Similarly, the Sadducees would, after they knew its real
character and goal, turn contemptuously from a movement
which would awaken no sympathy in them, and could only
become of interest when it threatened to endanger their
class by awakening popular enthusiasm, and so rousing
the suspicions of the Romans. To the Pharisees there
were questions of dogmatic, ritual, and even national im
portance involved, which made the barest possibility of
what John announced a question of moment. And,
although we judge that the report which the earliest
¦ st. Matt. Pharisaic hearers of Johna brought to Jerusalem
iii-7 — no doubt, detailed and accurate — and which
led to the despatch of the deputation, would entirely pre
dispose them against the Baptist, yet it behoved them, as
leaders of public opinion, to take such cognisance of it, as
would not only finally determine their own relation to the
movement, but enable them effectually to direct that of
others also.
1 For a fuller account of the Essenes see " Life and Times,' vol. i
pp. 324-334.

62 Jesus the Messiah

CHAPTER XII.
THE TWOFOLD TFSTIMONY OF JOHN — THE FIRST SABBATH
OF JESUS' MINISTRY — THE FIRST SUNDAY — THE FIRST
DISCIPLES. (St. John i. 16-51.)
The forty days, which had passed since Jesus had come to
him, must have been to the Baptist a time of unfolding
understanding, and of ripened decision. On first meeting
Jesus by the banks of Jordan, he had felt the seeming
incongruity of baptizing One of Whom he had rather
need to be baptized. Tet what he needed was not to be
baptized, but to learn that it became the Christ to fulfil
all righteousness. This was the first lesson. The next
and completing one came when after the Baptism the
heavens opened, the Spirit descended, and the Divine
Voice of Testimony pointed to, and explained the promised
• st. John i. sign.a It told him that the work which he had
33 begun in the obedience of faith had reached
fulfilment. He had. entered upon it not only without illusions, but
with such entire self-forgetfumess as only deepest con
viction of the reality of what he announced could have
wrought. As we gather the elements of that conviction,
we find them chiefly in the Book of Isaiah. His speech
and its imagery, and especially the burden of his message,
were taken from those prophecies.
In his announcement of the Kingdom, in his call to
inward repentance, even in his symbolic Baptism, one
Great Personality always stood out before the mind of
John. All else was absorbed in that great fact : he was
only the voice of one that cried, ' Prepare ye the way ! '
And now, on the last of those forty days, simultaneously,
as it would seem, with the final great Temptation of Jesus,
which must have summed up all that had preceded it in
the previous days, came the hour of John's temptation by

The Twofold Testimony of John 63
the deputation from Jerusalem. Very gently it came to
him, not like the storm-blast which swept over the Master.
Yet a very real temptation it was, this provoking to the
assumption of successively lower grades of self-assertion,
where only entire self-abnegation was the rightful feeling.
And greatest temptation it was when, after the first victory,
came the not unnatural challenge of his authority for what
he said and did. This was the question which must at
all times, from the beginning of his work to the hour of
his death, have pressed most closely upon him, since it
touched not only his conscience, but the very ground of
his mission, nay, of his life. For what was the meaning
of that question which the disciples of John brought to
Jesus : ' Art Thou He that should come, or do we look
for another ? ' other than doubt of his own warrant and
authority for what he had said and done ? But in that
first time of his trial at Bethabara he overcame — the first
temptation by the humility of his intense sincerity, the
second by the simplicity of his own experimental con
viction ; the first by what he had seen, the second by
what he had heard concerning the Christ at the banks of
Jordan. Yet, as we view it, the questions of the Pharisaic
deputation seem but natural. After his previous emphatic
disclaimer at the beginning of his preaching (St. Luke iii.
15), of which they in Jerusalem could scarcely have been
ignorant, the suggestion of his Messiahship — not indeed
expressly made, but sufficiently implied to elicit what the
language of the fourth Gospel shows to have been the most
energetic denial — could scarcely have been more than
tentative. It was otherwise with their question whether he
were ' Elijah.' Yet, bearings in mind what we know of the
Jewish expectations of Elijah, this also could scarcely have
been meant in its full literality — but rather as ground for
the further question after the goal and warrant of his
mission. Hence also John's disavowing of such claims is
not satisfactorily accounted for by the common explana
tion, that he denied being Elijah in the sense of not being
what the Jews expected of the Forerunner of the Messiah :

64 Jesus the Messiah
the real, identical Elijah ofthe days of Ahab; or else,
that he denied being such in the sense of the peculiar
Jewish hopes attaching to his reappearance in ' the last
days.' There is much deeper truth in the disclaimer of
the Baptist. It was, indeed, true that, as foretold in the
¦ st Luke i. Angelic announcement,*1 he was sent 'in the
17 spirit and power of Elias,' that is, with the same
object and the same qualifications. Similarly, it is true
what, in His mournful retrospect of the result of John's
mission, and in the prospect of His own end, the Saviour
said of him : ' Elias is indeed come.' But ' the spirit and
power' of the Elijah of the New Testament, which was to
accomplish the inward restoration through penitent recep
tion of the Kingdom of God in its reality, could only ac
complish that object if ' they received it ' — if ' they knew
him.' And as in his own view, so also in very fact the
Baptist, though Divinely such, was not really Elijah to
Israel. This is the meaning of the words of Jesus : ' And
" st. Matt, if ye 'will receive it, this is Elias, which was for
ri x* to come.' b
More natural still seems the third question of the
Pharisees, whether the Baptist were ' that prophet.' The
reference here is undoubtedly to Deut. xviii. 15, 18. Not
that the reappearance of Moses as lawgiver was expected.
But the - prediction taken in connection with the pro-
• Jer. xxxi. uiise c of a ' new covenant ' with a ' new law '
31 &o. written in the hearts of the people was expected
to take place in Messianic days, and by the instrumentality
of ' that prophet.'
Whatever views the Jewish embassy might have enter
tained concerning the abrogation, renewal, or renovation
of the Law in Messianic times, the Baptist repelled the
suggestion of his being 'that prophet' with the same
energy as those of his being either the Christ or Elijah.
We mark increased intensity and directness in the testi-
• st. johni. mony which he now bears to the Christ before the
22-28 Jerusalem deputies."1
And the reward of his overcoming temptation was at
hand. On the very day of the Baptist's temptation Jesus

The Twofold Testimony of John 65
had left the wilderness. On the morrow after it, 'John
seeth Jesus coming unto him, and saith, Behold, the Lamb
of God, Which taketh away the sin of the world ! ' We
cannot doubt, that the thought here present to the mind
• is. iu 13- of JohD was the description of ' The Servant of
iiu.' Jehovah,' as set forth in Is. liii. It must always
» Comp. st. have been Messianically understood ; » it formed
nfltyiute the groundwork of Messianic thought to the New
fote "L Testameut writers *— nor did the Synagogue read
32; 1 pet. a. it otherwise, till the necessities of controversy
diverted its application, not indeed from the
times, but from the Person of the Messiah. But we can
understand how, during those forty days, this greatest
height of Isaiah's conception of the Messiah was the one
outstanding fact before his view. And what he believed,
that he spake, when again, and unexpectedly, he saw
Jesus. Yet, while regarding his words as an appeal to the
prophecy of Isaiah, two other references must not be ex
cluded from them : those to the Paschal Lamb, and to the
Daily Sacrifice. These are, if not directly pointed to, yet
implied. For the Paschal Lamb was, in a sense, the basis
of all the sacrifices ofthe Old Testament, not only from its
saving import to Israel, but as that which really made
them ' the Church,' and people of God. Hence the institu
tion of the Paschal Lamb was, so to speak, only enlarged
and applied in the daily sacrifice of a Lamb, in which
this twofold idea of redemption and fellowship was ex
hibited. Lastly, the prophecy of Isaiah liii. was but the
complete realisation of these two ideas in the Messiah.
Neither could the Paschal Lamb with its completion in
the Daily Sacrifice be properly viewed without this pro
phecy of Isaiah, nor yet that prophecy properly understood
without its reference to its two great types. Jewish com
ment explains how the morning and evening sacrifices were
intended to atone, the one for the sins of the night, the
other for those of the day, so as ever to leave Israel guilt
less before God; and it expressly ascribes to them the
efficacy of a Paraclete — that being the word used. And

66 Jesus the Messiah
both the school of Shammai and that of Hillel insisted on
the symbolic import of the Lamb of the Daily Sacrifice in
regard to the forgiveness of sin. In view of such clear
testimony from the time of Christ, less positiveness of
assertion might, not unreasonably, be expected from those
who declare that the sacrifices bore no reference to the
forgiveness of sins, just as, in the face of the application
made by the Baptist and other New Testament writers,
more exegetical modesty seems called for on the part of
those who deny the Messianic references in Isaiah.
It was, as we have reason to believe, the early morning
of a Sabbath. John stood, with the two of his disciples
who most shared his thoughts and feelings. One of them
we know to have been Andrew (v. 40) ; the other, un
named one, could have been no other than John himself,
the beloved disciple. .They had heard what their teacher
had on the previous day said of Jesus. And now that
Figure once more appeared in view. The Baptist is not
teaching now, but learning, as the intensity and penetra
tion of his gaze calls from him the now worshipful repeti
tion of what, on the previous day, he had explained and
enforced. There was no leave-taking on the part of these
two — perhaps they meant not to leave John. It needed
no direction of John, no call from Jesus. But as they
went, in the dawn of their rising faith, He turned Him. It
was not because. He discerned it not that He put to them
the question, ' What seek ye ? ' which elicited a, reply so
simple, so real ,. as to carry its own evidence. He is still
to them the Rabbi — the most honoured title they can find
— yet marking still the strictly Jewish view, as well as
their own standpoint of ' What seek ye ? ' There is strict
correspondence to their view in the words of Jesus. Their
very Hebraism of ' Rabbi ' is met by the equally Hebraic
' Come and see ; ' l their unspoken, but half-conscious
longing by what the invitation implied.
1 The precise date of the origin of this designation is not quite clear.
When Jesus is so addressed it is in the sense of ' my Teacher.' Nor
can there be any reasonable doubt that thus it was generally current
in and before the time noted in the Gospels. The expression ' Come

The First Disciples 67
It was but early morning — ten o'clock.1 The form of
the narrative and its very words convey, that the two, not
learners now but teachers, had gone, each to search for his
brother — Andrew for Simon Peter, and John for James.
Here already, at the outset of this history, the haste of
energy characteristic of the sons of Jona2 outdistanced the
st. John i. more quiet intenseness of John : a ' He (Andrew)
41 first findeth his own brother.' But Andrew and
John equally brought the same announcement, still
markedly Hebraic in its form : ' We have found the
Messias.' This, then, was the outcome to them of that
day — He was the Messiah ; and this the goal which their
longing had reached, ' We have found Him.'
And still this day of first marvellous discovery had not
closed. It could scarcely have been but that Andrew had
told Jesus of his brother, and even asked leave to bring
him. The searching glance of the Saviour now read in
Peter's inmost character his future call and work : ' Thou
art Simon, the son of John — thou shalt be called Cephas,
which is interpreted (Grecianised) Peter.'
It was Sunday morning, the first of Christ's Mission-
work, the first of His Preaching. He was purposing to re
turn to Galilee. The first Jerusalem-visit must be prepared
for by them all ; and he would not go there till the right
time — for the Paschal Feast. It was probably a distance of
about twenty miles from Bethany (Bethabara) to Cana. By
the way, two other disciples were to be gained — this time
not brought but called, where and in what precise circum
stances we know not. But the notice that Philip was a
and see' is among the most common Rabbinic formulas, although
generally connected with the acquisition of special and important in
formation. 1 The common supposition is, that the time must be computed
according to the Jewish method, in which case the tenth hour would
represent 4 P.M. But remembering that the Jewish day ended with
sunset, it could, in that case, have been scarcely marked that ' they
abode with Him that day.' The correct interpretation would therefore
point in this, as in other passages of St. John, to the Asiatic numeration
of hours, corresponding to our own. Comp. J. B. McLellan's New
Testament, pp. 740-742.
2 Note : According to the best text, John, and not Jona, as below.
F 2

68 Jesus the Messiah
fellow-townsman of Andrew and Peter seems to imply
some instrumentality on their part. Similarly we gather
that afterwards Philip was somewhat in advance of the
rest, when he found his acquaintance Nathanael, and en
gaged in conversation with him just as Jesus and the
others came up. But here also we mark, as another
characteristic trait of John, that he, and his brother with
him, seem to have clung close to the Person of Christ, just
as did Mary afterwards in the house of her brother. It
was this intense exclusiveness of fellowship with Jesus
which traced on his mind that fullest picture of the God-
Man, which his narrative reflects.
The call to Philip from the lips of the Saviour met
with immediate responsive obedience. Yet though no
special obstacles had to be overcome and hence no special
narrative was called for, it must have implied much of
learning, to judge from what he did and from what he
said to Nathanael. In Nathanael's conquest by Christ
there is something special implied, of which the Lord's
words give significant hints. Nathanael (Theodore, ' the
gift of God ') had, as we often read of Rabbis, rested for
prayer, meditation, or study, in the shadow of that wide-
spreading tree so common in Palestine, the fig-tree. The
approaching Passover-season, perhaps mingling with
thoughts of John's announcement by the banks of .Tor-
dan, would naturally suggest the great deliverance of
Israel in the age to come. Such a verse as that with which
the meditation for the New Moon of Nisan, the Passover-
month, closes — ' Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob
ps cxivi s foy iis nelp ' a~ would recur> and so lead back the
mind to the suggestive symbol of Jacob's vision,
and its realisation in ' the age to come.'
These are, of course, only suppositions ; but it might
well be that Philip had found him while still busy with
such thoughts. It must have seemed a startling answer
to his thoughts, this announcement, made with the fresh
ness of new conviction: 'We have found Him of Whom
Moses in the Law, and the Prophets, did write.' But
this addition about the Man of Nazareth, the son of

The First Disciples 69
Joseph, would appear a terrible anti-climax. It was so
different from anything that he had associated either with
the great hope of Israel, or with the Nazareth of his own
neighbourhood, that his exclamation, without implying
any special imputation on the little town, seems only
natural. There was but one answer to this — that which
Philip made, which Jesus had made to Andrew and John 1
' Come and see.' And as he went with him evidences irre
fragable multiplied at every step. As he neared Jesus,
he heard Him speak to the disciples words concerning him,
which recalled, truly and actually, what had passed in his
soul. And to his astonished question came such answer
that he could not but burst into immediate and full acknow
ledgment : ' Thou art the Son of God,' Who hast read my
inmost being ; ' Thou art the King of Israel,' Who dost
meet its longing and hope.
Thus Nathanael, ' the God-given ' — or, as we know him
in after-history, Bartholomew, ' the son of Telamyon ' — ¦
was on that first Sunday added to the disciples.

CHAPTER XIII.
THE MARRIAGE-FEAST IN CANA OF GALILEE.
(St. John ii 1-12.)
We are now to enter on the Ministry of 'The Son of
Man,' first and chiefly in its contrast to the preparatory
call of the Baptist, with the asceticism symbolic of it.
We behold Him now as freely mingling with humanity,
entering into its family life, sanctioning and hallowing all
by His Presence and blessing ; then as transforming the
' water of legal purification ' into the wine of the new dis
pensation; and, lastly, as having absolute power as the
' Son of Man,' being also ' the Son of God ' and ' the King
of Israel.' It must be borne in mind that marriage conveyed to
the Jews much higher thoughts than merely those of festivity
and merriment. The pious fasted before it, confessing their
sins. It was regarded almost as a Sacrament. Entrance

70 Jesus the Messiah
into the married state was thought to carry the forgiveness of
sins. It almost seems as if the relationship of Husband
and Bride between Jehovah and His people, so frequently
insisted upon, not only in the Bible, but in Rabbinic
writings, had always been standing out in the back
ground. A special formality, that of ' betrothal' preceded the
actual marriage by a period varying in length, but not ex
ceeding a twelvemonth in the case of a maiden. At the
betrothal, the bridegroom, personally or by deputy, handed
to the bride a piece of money or a letter, it being expressly
stated in each case that the man thereby espoused the
woman. A legal document fixed the dowry which each
brought, the mutual obligations, and all other legal points.
On the evening of the actual marriage, the bride was
led from her paternal home to that of her husband. First
came the merry sounds of music; then they who dis
tributed among the people wine and oil, and nuts among
the children ; next the bride, covered with the bridal veil,
her long hair flowing, surrounded by her companions, and
led by ' the friends of the bridegroom,' and ' the children
of the bride-chamber.' All around were in festive array ;
some carried torches, or lamps on poles ; those nearest had
myrtle-branches and chaplets of flowers. Every one rose
to salute the procession, or join it ; and it was deemed
almost a religious duty to break into praise of the beauty,
the modesty, or the virtues of the bride. Arrived at her
new home, she was led to her husband, Some such for
mula as : ' Take her according to the Law of Moses and
of Israel,' would be spoken, and bride and bridegroom
crowned with garlands. Then a formal legal instrument
was signed, which set forth that the bridegroom undertook
to work for her, to honour, keep, and care for her, as is
the manner of the men of Israel ; that he promised to give
his maiden-wife at least two hundred Zuz l (or more as
might be),2 and to increase her own dowry (which, in the
1 If the Zm be reckoned at Id., about 51. 16s 8d.
2 This, of course, represents only the minimum.. In the case of a
Priest's daughter the ordinary legal minimum was doubled

The Marriage-Feast in Can a of Galilee 71
case of a poor orphan, the authorities supplied) by at least
one-half, and that he also undertook to lay it out for her to
the best advantage, all his own possessions being guarantee
for it. Then, after the prescribed washing of hands and
benediction, the marriage-supper began — the cup being
filled, and the solemn prayer of bridal benediction spoken
over it. And so the feast lasted — it might be more than
one day, till at last ' the friends of the bridegroom ' led the
bridal pair to the bridal-chamber and bed. Here it ought
to be specially noticed, as a striking evidence that the
writer of the fourth Gospel was not only a Hebrew, but
intimately acquainted with the varying customs prevailing
in Galilee and in Judaea, that at the marriage of Cana no
' friend of the bridegroom ' or ' groomsman ' is mentioned,
while he is referred to in St. John iii. 29, where the
words are spoken outside the boundaries of Galilee. For
among the simpler Galileans the practice of having ' friends
of the bridegroom ' did not obtain, though all the invited
•comp.st guests bore the general name of ' children ofthe
Matt. ix. 15 bride-chamber.' a
It was the marriage in Cana of Galilee. All connected
with the account of it is strictly Jewish — the feast, the
guests, the invitation of the stranger Rabbi, and its accept
ance by Jesus. We are not able to fix with certainty the
site of the little town of Cana. But if we adopt the most
probable identification of it with the modern pleasant village
of Kefr Kenna, a few miles north-east of Nazareth, on the
road to the Lake of Galilee, we picture it to ourselves as
on the slope of a hill, its houses rising terrace upon terrace.
As we approach the little town we come upon a fountain
of excellent water, around which clustered the village gar
dens and orchards that produced in great abundance the
best pomegranates in Palestine. Here was the home of
Nathanael-Bartholomew, and it seems not unlikely, that
with him Jesus had passed the time intervening between
His arrival and ' the marriage,' to which His Mother had
come — the omission of all mention of Joseph leading to the
supposition, that he had died before that time. There is
not any difficulty in understanding that on His arrival

72 Jesus the Messiah
Jesus would hear of this ' marriage,' of the presence of His
Mother in what seems to have been the house of a friend,
if not a relative ; that He and His disciples would be bidden
to the feast ; and that He resolved not only to comply with
the request, but to use it as a leave-taking from home and
friends — similar, though also far other, than that of Elisha,
when he entered on his. mission.
As we pass through the court of that house in Cana,
and reach the covered gallery which opens on the various
rooms — in this instance, particularly, on the great reception
room — all is festively adorned. In the gallery the servants
move about, and there the ' water-pots ' are ranged, ' after
the manner of the Jews,' for purification — for the washing
not only of hands before and after eating, but also of the
vessels used.a ' Purification ' was one of the
• Comp. St. . . _ . . . . . -.
Mark vii. mam points m Kabbmic sanctity, and the mass
of the people would have regarded neglect of the
ordinances of purification as betokening either gross igno
rance or daring impiety.
At any rate, such would not be exhibited on an occasion
like the present ; and outside the reception-room, as St.
John relates, six of those stone pots, of which we know from
Rabbinic writings, were ranged. It seems likely that each
of these pots might have held from 17 to 25^ gallons. For
such an occasion the family would produce or borrow the
largest and handsomest stone-vessels that could be procured,
and it seems to have been the practice to set apart some of
these vessels exclusively for the use of the bride and of the
more distinguished guests, while the rest were used by the
general company.
Entering the spacious, lofty dining-room, which would
be brilliantly lighted with lamps and candlesticks, the
guests are disposed round tables on couches, soft with
cushions or covered with tapestry, or seated on chairs. The
bridal blessing has been spoken, and the bridal cup emptied.
The feast is proceeding — not the common meal, which was
generally taken about even, according to the Rabbinic say
ing, that he who postponed it beyond that hour was as if
he swallowed a stone — but a festive evening meaL And

The Marriage-Feast in Cana of Galilee 73
now there must have been a painful pause, or something
like it, when the mother of Jesus whispered to Him that
' the wine failed.' There could, perhaps, be the less cause
for reticence on this point towards her Son, not merely
because this failure may have arisen from the accession of
guests in the persons of Jesus and His disciples, for whom
no provision had been originally made, but because the gift
of wine or oil on such occasions was regarded as a meri
torious work of charity.
But all this still leaves the main incidents in the narra
tive untouched. How are we to understand the implied
request of the Mother of Jesus, how His reply, and what
was the meaning of the miracle ? Although we have no
absolute certainty of it, we have the strongest internal
reasons for believing that Jesus had done no miracles these
thirty years in the home at Nazareth, but lived the life of
quiet submission and obedient waiting. That was the then
part of His Work.
And so when Mary told Him of the want that had arisen,
it was simply in absolute confidence in her Son, probably
without any conscious expectancy of a miracle on His part.
Yet not without a touch of maternal self-consciousness,
almost pride, that He, Whom she could trust to do anything
that was needed, was her Son, Whom she could solicit in
the friendly family whose guests they were — and that what
He did would be done if not for her sake, yet at her request.
It was a true earth-view to take of their relationship : the
outcome of His misunderstood meekness. And therefore it
was that as on the first misunderstanding in the Temple,
He had said : ' Wist ye not that I must be about My
Father's business ? ' so now : ' Woman, what have I to do
with thee ? ' With that ' business ' earthly relationship,
however tender, had no connection.
And Mary did not, and yet she did, understand Him,
when she turned to the servants with the direction, implicitly
to follow His behests. What happened is well known:
how, in the excess of their zeal, they filled the water-pots to
the brim — an accidental circumstance, yet useful, as show
ing that there could be neither delusion nor collusion ; how,

74 Jesus the Messiah
probably in the drawing of it, the water became best wine
— ' the conscious water saw its God, and blushed ; ' then
the coarse proverbial joke of what was probably the master
of ceremonies and purveyor of the feast, intended, of course,
not literally to apply to the present company, and yet in its
accidentalness an evidence of the reality of the miracle.
After this the narrative abruptly closes with a retrospective
remark on the part of him who relates it : ' And His disciples
believed on Him.'

CHAPTER XIV.
THE CLEANSING OF THE TEMPLE.
(St. John ii. 13-25.)
Immediately after the marriage of Cana, Mary and the
' brethren of Jesus ' went with Him, or followed Him, to
•st m tt • Capernaum, which henceforth became ' His own
13 ;' ix. i) " city ' a during His stay by the Lake of Galilee.
. ar u. jj. geemg most probable that the Tell Hum of
modern exploration marks the site of the ancient Caper
naum, Kephar Nachum, or Tanchumin. At the time it could
have been of only recent origin, since its Synagogue had but
lately been reared, through the friendly liberality of the
i> st. Matt, true and faithful Centurion .b But already its
viii. 5,&o. importance was such, that it had become the
station of a garrison, and of one of the principal custom
houses. Its soft sweet air, the fertility of the country — ¦
notably of the plain of Gennesaret close by; and the
fertilising proximity of a spring which, from its teeming
with fish like that of the Nile, was popularly regarded as
springing from the river of Egypt — this and more must
have made Capernaum one of the most delightful places in
these ' Gardens of Princes,' as the Rabbis interpreted the
word ' Gennesaret,' by the ' cither-shaped lake ' of that
name. The town lay quite up on its north-western shore,
only two miles from where the Jordan falls into the lake.
Close by the shore stood the Synagogue, built of white
limestone on dark basalt foundation. All the houses of the

The Cleansing of the Temple 75
town are gone : the good Centurion's house, that of Mat-
» st. Mark a thew the publican," that of Simon Peter,b the
is ; oomp. temporary home which first sheltered the Master
»> st Matt and His loved ones. All are unrecognisable

viii. 11

-a

confused mass of ruins — save only that
white Synagogue in which He taught. From its ruins
we can still measure its dimensions, and trace its fallen
pillars ; nay, we discover over the lintel of its entrance the
• st. John device of a pot of manna, which may have lent
vi. 49,59 -j.g form to g^g teaching there.0
And this, then, is Capernaum — the first and the chief
home of Jesus, when He had entered on His active work.
But, on this occasion, He ' continued there not many days.'
For, already, ' the Jews' Passover was at hand,' and He
must needs keep that feast in Jerusalem. If our former
computations are right this Passover must have taken place
in the spring (about April) of the year 27 a.d. A month
before the feast bridges and roads were put in repair, and
sepulchres whitened, to prevent accidental pollution to the
pilgrims. Then, some would select this out of the three
great annual feasts for the tithing of their flocks and herds,
which, in such case, had to be done two weeks before the
Passover ; while others would fix on it as the time for going
* st. John up to Jerusalem before the feast ' to purify them-
**• 56- selves ' d — that is, to undergo the prescribed
purification in any case of Levitical defilement. But what
must have appealed to every one in the land was the appear
ance of the ' money-changers ' who opened their stalls in
every country-town on the 15th of Adar (just a month
before the feast). They were, no doubt, regularly accre
dited and duly authorised. For all Jews and proselytes
— women, slaves, and minors excepted — had to pay the
annual Temple-tribute of half a shekel, according to the
' sacred ' standard, equal to about Is. 2d. of our money.
From this tax, many of the Priests — to the chagrin of the
Rabbis — claimed exemption.
This Temple-tribute had to be paid in exact half-shekels
of the Sanctuary, or ordinary Galilean shekels. When it
is remembered that, besides strictly Palestinian silver and

76 Jesus the Messiah
especially copper coin, Persian, Tyrian, Syrian, Egyptian,
Grecian, and Roman money circulated in the country, it will
be understood what work these 'money-changers' must
have had. From the 15th to the 25th Adar they had stalls
in every country-town. On the latter date, which must
therefore be considered as marking the first arrivals of
festive pilgrims in the city, the stalls in the country
were closed, and the money-changers henceforth sat within
the precincts of the Temple. All who refused to pay
the Temple-tribute, except Priests, were liable to dis
traint of their goods. The money-changers made a
statutory fixed charge of from l^d. to 2d. on every half-
shekel. In some cases, however, double this amount was
charged. It is a reasonable inference that many of the foreign
Jews arriving in Jerusalem would take the opportunity of
changing at these tables their foreign money, and for this,
of course, fresh charges would be made. For there was a
great deal to be bought within the Temple-area, needful
for the feast (in the way of sacrifices and their adjuncts),
or for purification. We can picture to ourselves the scene
around the table of an Eastern money-changer — the
weighing of the coins, deductions for loss of weight, arguing,
disputing, bargaining — and we can realise the terrible
truthfulness of our Lord's charge that they had made the
Father's House a mart and place of traffic. But even so
the business of the Temple money-changers would not be
exhausted. Through their hands would pass probably all
business matters connected with the Sanctuary. Some
idea of the vast accumulation of wealth in the Temple-
treasury may be formed from the circumstance that, despite
many previous spoliations, the value ofthe gold and silver
which Crassus a carried from the Temple-treasury
amounted to the enormous sum of about two and
a half millions sterling.
The noisy and incongruous business of an Eastern
money-lender was not the only one carried on within the
sacred Temple-enclosure. A person bringing a sacrifice
might not only learn, but actually obtain, in the Temple

The Cleansing of the Temple f]
from its officials what was required for the meat- and drink-
offering. The prices were fixed by tariff every month, and
on payment of the stated amount the offerer received one
of four counterfoils, which respectively indicated, and, on
handing it to the proper official, procured the prescribed
complement of his sacrifice.1 The Priests and Levites in
charge of this made up their accounts every evening, and
these (thoughn ecessary) transactions must have left a
considerable margin of profit to the treasury. This would
soon lead to another line of traffic. Offerers might, of
course, bring their sacrificial animals with them, and we
know that on the Mount of Olives there were four shops,
specially for the sale of pigeons and other things requisite for
sacrificial purposes. But then, when an animal was brought,
it had to be examined as to its Levitical fitness by persons
regularly qualified and appointed. Disputes might here
arise, due to the ignorance of the purchaser or the greed of
the examiner. But all trouble and difficulty would be avoided
by a regular market within the Temple-enclosure, where
sacrificial animals could be purchased, having presumably
been duly inspected, and all fees paid before being offered
for sale. It needs no comment to show how utterly the
Temple would be profaned by such traffic, and to what
scenes it might lead.
These Temple-Bazaars,2 the property, and one of the
principal sources of income, of the family of Annas, were
the scene of the purification of the Temple by Jesus ; and
in the private locale attached to these very Bazaars, where
the Sanhedrin held its meetings at the time, the final con
demnation of Jesus may have been planned, if not actually
pronounced. We can now also understand why the Temple
officials, to whom these, Bazaars belonged, only challenged
the authority of Christ in thus purging the Temple : the
unpopularity of the whole traffic, if not their consciences,
prevented their proceeding to actual violence. Nor do we
any longer wonder that no resistance was offered by the
people to the action of Jesus, and that even the remon-
1 Comp. 'The Temple and its Services, &c.' pp. 118, 119.
2 See ' Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah,' Vol. i. pp. 370-72 of the
larger work.

78 Jesus the Messiah
strances of the priests were not direct, but in the form of a
perplexing question.
Many of those present must have known Jesus. The
zeal of His early disciples, who, on their first recognition
of Him, proclaimed the new-found Messiah, could not have
given place to absolute silence. The many Galilean pil
grims in the Temple could not but have spread the tidings,
and the report must soon have passed from one to the other
in the Temple-courts, as He first entered their sacred en
closure. They would follow Him, and watch what He did.
Nor were they disappointed. He inaugurated His Mission
by fulfilling the prediction concerning Him Who was to be
Israel's refiner and purifier (Mai. iii. 1—3). Scarce had He
entered the Temple-porch, and trod the Court of the Gen
tiles, than He drove thence what profanely defiled it. There
was not a hand lifted, not a word spoken to arrest Him as
He made the scourge of small cords, and with it drove out
of the Temple both the sheep and the oxen ; not a word said
nor a hand raised as He poured into their receptacles the
changers' money and overthrew their tables. His Presence
awed them, His words awakened even their consciences ; they
knew only too well how true His denunciations were. And
behind Him was gathered the wondering multitude, with
whom such bold and Messianic vindication of Temple sanc
tity would gain Him respect, approbation and admiration,
and which, at any rate, secured His safety.
For when ' the Jews,' by which here, as in so many
other places, we are to understand the rulers of the people
¦ — in this instance, the Temple officials — did gather courage
to come forward, they ventured not to lay hands on Him.
Still more strangely, they did not even reprove Him for
what He had done, as if it had been wrong or improper.
With infinite cunning, as appealing to the multitude,
they only asked for ' a sign ' which would warrant such
assumption of authority. But this question of challenge
marked two things : the essential opposition between the
Jewish authorities and Jesus, and the manner in which
they would carry on the contest, which was henceforth to
be waged between Him and the rulers of the people.

THE CLEANSING OF THE TEMPLE.

The Cleansing of the Temple 79
And Jesus foresaw, or rather saw it all. As for ' the
sign,' then and ever again sought by an ' evil and adulte
rous generation' — evil in their thoughts and ways, and
adulterous to the God of Israel — He had then, as afterwards,*
¦ st. Matt only one ' sign ' to give : ' Destroy this Temple,
xii.38^0 an^ jn thrgg ,iayS j ^riU raise it up.' Thus He
met their challenge for a sign by the challenge of a sign :
Crucify Him, and He would rise again ; let them suppress
the Christ, He would triumph.

CHAPTER XV.
JESUS AND NICODEMUS.
(St. John iii. 1-21.)

The Feast ofthe Passover commenced on the 15th Nisan,
dating it, of course, from the preceding evening. On the
evening of the 13th Nisan, with which the 14th, or ' pre
paration-day,' commenced, the head of each household
would, with lighted candle and in solemn silence, search
out all leaven in his house, prefacing his search with solemn
thanksgiving and appeal to God, and closing it by an
equally solemn declaration that he had accomplished it, so
far as within his knowledge, and disavowing responsibility
for what lay beyond it. And as the worshippers went to
"the Temple, they would see prominently exposed, on a
bench in one of the porches, two desecrated cakes of some
thankoffering, indicating that it was still lawful to eat of
that which was leavened. At ten, or at latest eleven
o'clock, one of those cakes was removed, and then they
knew that it was no longer lawful to eat of it. At twelve
o'clock the second cake was removed, and this was the
signal for solemnly burning all the leaven that had been
gathered. The ' cleansing of the Temple ' undoubtedly preceded
kstJohnii. *ne actual festive Paschal week.b To those who
23 were in Jerusalem it was a week such as had
never been before, a week when ' they saw the signs which

80 Jesus the Messiah
He did,' and when, stirred by a strange impulse, ' they
believed in His Name ' as the Messiah.
Among the observers who were struck by these signs
was Nicodemus, one ofthe Pharisees and a member of the
Jerusalem Sanhedrin. And, as we gather from his mode
of expression, not he only, but others with him. From
the Gospel-history we know him to have been cautious by
nature and education, and timid of character, and we
cannot wonder that he should have wished to shroud this
his first visit in the utmost possible secrecy. It was a
most compromising step for a Sanhedrist to take. With
that first bold purgation of the Temple a deadly feud
between Jesus and the Jewish authorities had begun, of
which the sequel could not be doubtful.
Nevertheless, Nicodemus came. And as Jesus was not
depressed by the resistance of the authorities, nor by the
' milk-faith ' of the multitude (as Luther calls it), so He
was not elated by the possibility of making such a convert
as a member of the Great Sanhedrin.
The report of what passed reads, more than almost any
other in the Gospels, like notes taken at the time by one ¦
who was present. We can almost put it again into the
form of brief notes, by heading what each said in this
manner, Nicodemus : — or, Jesus. They are only the out
lines of the conversation, giving in each case the really im
portant gist, and leaving abrupt gaps between, as would be
the manner in such notes. Yet they are quite sufficient to
tell us all that is important for us to know. We can scarcely
doubt that it was the narrator, John, who was the wit
ness that took the notes. His own reflections upon it, or
rather his after-look upon it, in the light of later facts, and
under the teaching ofthe Holy Ghost, is described in the
verses with which the writer follows his account of what
had passed between Jesus and Nicodemus (St. John iii.
16-21). In the same manner he winds up with similar
reflections (ib. vv. 31-36) the reported conversation
between the Baptist and his disciples. In neither case
are the verses to which we refer part of what either
Jesus or John said at the time, but what, in view of it,

Jesus and Nicodemus 8i
John says in name of, and to the Church of the New
Testament. If from St. John xix. 27 we might infer that St. John
had ' a home ' in Jerusalem itself, the scene about to be
described would have taken place under the roof of him
who has given us its record. Up in the simply furnished
Aliydh — the guest-chamber on the roof — the lamp was
still burning. There was no need for Nicodemus to pass
through the house, for an outside stair led to the upper
room. It was night, when Jewish superstition would
keep men at home; a wild, gusty spring night, when
loiterers would not be in the streets ; and no one would
see him as at that hour he ascended the outside steps that
led up to the Aliyah. His errand was soon told: one
sentence, that whicn admitted the Divine Teachership of
Jesus, implied all the questions he could wish to ask. It
was all about ' the Kingdom of God,' so connected with that
Teacher come from God, that Nicodemus would inquire.
And Jesus took him straight to whence alone that
' Kingdom ' could be seen. ' Except a man be born from
above,1 he cannot see the Kingdom of God.' Judaism
could understand a new relationship towards God and
man, and even the forgiveness of sins. But it had no
conception of a moral renovation, a spiritual birth, as the
initial condition for reformation, far less as that for seeing
the Kingdom of God. And it was because it had no idea
of such ' birth from above,' of its reality or even possibility,
that Judaism could not be the Kingdom of God.
All this sounded quite strange and unintelligible to
Nicodemus. He could understand how a man might
become other, and so ultimately be other ; but how a man
should first be other in order to become other — more than
that, needed to be ' born from above,' in order to ' see the
Kingdom of God ' — passed alike his experience and his
Jewish learning. Only one possibility of being occurred
1 Notwithstanding the high authority of Professor Westcott, I must
still hold that this and not ' anew,' is the right rendering. The word
HvwBev has always the meaning ' above ' in the fourth Gospel (ch. iii. 3,
7, 31; xix. 11, 23); and otherwise also St. John always speaks of 'a
birth ' from God (St. John i. 13 ; 1 John ii. 29 ; iii. 9 ; iv. 7 ; v. 1, 4, 18).
G

82 Jesus the Messiah
to him : that given him in his natural disposition, or, as a
Jew would have put it, in his original innocency when he
first entered the world. And this he thought aloud.a
st. John But there was another world of being than that
Ul-4 of which Nicodemus thought. That world was
the ' Kingdom of God ' in its essential contrariety to the
kingdom of this world, whether in the general sense of
that expression, or even in the special Judaistic sense
attaching to the ' Kingdom ' of the Messiah. But that
' Kingdom' was spiritual, and here a man must be in-order
to become. How was he to attain that' new being ? The
Baptist had pointed it out in its negative aspect of repent
ance and putting away the old by his Baptism of water ;
and as regarded its positive aspect he had pointed to Him
Who was to baptize with the Holy Ghost and with fire.
This was the gate of being, through which a man must
enter into the Kingdom, which was of the Messiah, be
cause it was of God and the Messiah was of God, and in
that sense ' the Teacher come from God ' — that is, being
sent of God, He taught of God by bringing to God. But
as to the mystery of this being in order to become — hark !
did he hear the sound of the wind as it swept past the
Aliyah ? He heard its voice ; but he neither knew whence
it came, nor whither it went. So was every one that was
born of the Spirit. You might hear the voice of the Spirit
Who originated the new being, but the origination of that
new being, or its further development into all that it might
and would become, lay beyond man's observation.
Nicodemus now understood in some measure what
entrance into the Kingdom meant; but he wanted to
know the how of these things before he believed them.'
But to that height of being no one could ascend but He
that had come down from heaven, the only true Teacher
come from God. Or did Nicodemus think of another
Teacher — hitherto their only Teacher, Moses — whom
Jewish tradition generally believed to have ascended into
the very heavens, in order to bring the teaching unto
them ? Let the history of Moses, then, teach them ! They
had heard what Moses had taught them ; they had seen

Jesus and Nicodemus 83
' the earthly things ' of God — and, in view and hearing of
it all, they had not believed but murmured and rebelled.
Then came the judgment of the fiery serpents, and, in
answer to repentant prayer, the symbol of new being, a life
restored from death, as they looked on their no longer
living but dead death lifted up before them. A symbol
this, showing forth two elements : negatively, the putting
away of the past in their dead death (the serpent no longer
living, but a brazen serpent) ; and positively, in their look
of faith and hope. Before this symbol, as has been said,
tradition has stood dumb. It could only suggest one
meaning, and draw from it one lesson. The meaning
which tradition attached to it was that Israel lifted up
their eyes, not merely to the serpent, but rather to their
Father in heaven, and had regard to His mercy. This, as
St. John afterwards shows (ver. 16), was a true but in
sufficient interpretation. And the lesson which tradition
drew from it was that this symbol taught the dead would
live again ; for, as it is argued, ' behold, if God made it
that, through the similitude of the serpent which brought
death, the dying should be restored to life, how much more
shall He, Who is Life, restore the dead to life ? ' And here
lies the true interpretation of what Jesus taught. If the
uplifted serpent, as symbol, brought life to the believing
look which was fixed upon the giving, pardoning love of
God, then, in the truest sense, shall the uplifted Son of
Man give true life to everyone that believeth, looking up
in Him to the giving and forgiving love of God, which His
Son came to bring, to declare, and to manifest. ' For as
Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the
Son of Man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth should
in Him have eternal life.'
And so the record of this interview abruptly closes.
Of Nicodemus we shall hear again in the sequel, not need
lessly, nor yet to complete a biography, were it even that
of Jesus ; but as is necessary for the understanding of this
• st John History. What follows a are not the words of
m. I6-21 Christ, but of St. John. In them, looking back
many years afterwards in the light of completed events,
a 2

84 Jesus the Messiah
the Apostle takes his stand, as becomes the circumstances,
where Jesus had ended His teaching of Nicodemus — under
the Cross.
And to all time and to all men sounds, like the Voice
of the Teacher come from God, this eternal Gospel-message :
' God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten
Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish,
but have everlasting life.'

CHAPTER XVI.

IN 3VDMA. AND THROUGH SAMARIA.
(St. John iv. 1-4.)
From the city Jesus retired with His disciples to 'the
country,' which formed the province of Judasa. There He
• st. John taught, and His disciples baptized." The number
lT- 2 of those who professed adhesion to the expected
new Kingdom, and were consequently baptized, was as
large, in that locality, as had submitted to the preaching
and Baptism of John — perhaps even larger. An exag
gerated report was carried to the Pharisaic authorities :
* st. John ' Jesus maketh and_ baptizeth more disciples than
iT- 1 John.' b From which, at least, we infer that the
opposition of the leaders of the party to the Baptist was
now settled, and that it extended to Jesus ; and also, what
careful watch they kept over the new movement.
But what seems at first sight strange is the twofold
circumstance that Jesus should for a time have established
Himself in such apparently close proximity to the Baptist,
and that on this occasion, and on this only, He should
have allowed His disciples to administer the rite of Bap
tism. The latter must not be confounded with Christian
Baptism, which was only introduced after the death of
Christ,0 or, to speak more accurately, after the
outpouring of the Holy Ghost. The administra
tion of the same rite by John and by the disciples of Jesus
seems not only unnecessary, but it might give rise to mis-

In Judaea and through Samaria 85
conception on the part of enemies, and misunderstanding
or jealousy on the part of weak disciples.
Such was actually the case when, on one occasion, a
discussion arose ' on the part of John's disciples with a
• st John Jew,' l on the subject of purification.8- We know
***• 26 not the special point in dispute. But what really
interests us is, that somehow this Jewish objector must have
connected what he said with a reference to the Baptism of
Jesus' disciples. For, immediately afterwards, the disci
ples of John, in their zeal for the honour of their master,
brought him tidings of what to them seemed interference
with the work of the Baptist, and almost presumption on
the part of Jesus. While fully alive to their error, we
cannot but honour and sympathize with this loving care
for their master. Never before had such deep earnestness
and self-abnegation as his been witnessed. In the high-day
of his power, when all men wondered whether he would an
nounce himself as the Christ, or, at least, as His Forerunner,
or as one of the great Prophets, John had disclaimed
everything for himself, and pointed to Another ! And, as
if this had not been enough, the multitudes which had
formerly come to John now flocked around Jesus; nay,
He had even usurped the one distinctive function still left
to their master. It was evident that, hated and watched
by the Pharisees, watched also by the ruthless jealousy
of a Herod, overlooked if not supplanted by Jesus, the
mission of their master was nearing its close. It had been
a life and work of suffering and self-denial ; it was about to
end in loneliness and sorrow. They said nothing expressly
to complain of Him to Whom John had borne witness, but
they told of what He did, and how all men came to Him.
The answer which the Baptist made may be said to
mark the high-point of his life and witness. In the silence,
which was now gathering around him, he heard but One
Voice, that of the Bridegroom. For it he had waited and
worked. And now that it had come, he was content : his
'joy was now fulfilled.' 'He must increase, but I must
decrease.' It was the right and good order.
1 This, and not « the Jews,' is the better reading

86 Jesus the Messiah
That these were his last words, publicly spoken and
recorded, may, however, explain to us why on this excep
tional occasion Jesus sanctioned the administration by His
disciples of the Baptism of John. Far divergent as their
paths had been, this practical sanction on the part of Jesus of
John's Baptism, when the Baptist was about to be forsaken,
betrayed and murdered, was Christ's highest testimony to
him. Jesus adopted his Baptism ere its waters for ever
ceased to flow, and thus He blessed and consecrated them.
Leaving for the present the Baptist, we follow the foot
steps of the Master. St. John alone tells of the early
Judsean ministry and the journey through Samaria, which
preceded the Galilean work.
The shorter road from Judaea to Galilee led through
Samaria; and this was the one generally taken by the
Galileans on their way to the capital. On the other hand,
the Judasans seem chiefly to have made a detour through
Perasa, in order to avoid hostile and impure Samaria. The
expression, ' He must needs go through Samaria,' probably
refers to the advisability in the circumstances of taking
the most direct road, since such prejudices in regard to
Samaria would not influence the conduct of Jesus. Great
as these undoubtedly were, they have been unduly exag
gerated by modern writers, misled by one-sided quotations
from Rabbinic works.
The Biblical history of that part of Palestine which
> c 1 k°re the name of Samaria need not here be re-
Kings im. peated.a Before the final deportation of Israel
&o! ;XSg- by Shalmaneser, or rather Sargon, the ' Samaria '
2aKii!gaeser' *° which his operations extended must have con-
xv.29;Shai- siderably shrunk in dimensions. It is difficult
maneser, ^ . .
xvij. 3-5 ; to suppose that the original deportation was so
s™goi^xvii. complete as to leave behind no traces of the
t'c*mp.2 original Israelitish inhabitants.b Their number
®}r°"'6 9. would probably be swelled by fugitives from
jer. xii.'s;' Assyria, and by Jewish settlers in the troublous
times that followed. Afterwards they were largely
increased by apostates and rebels against the order of
things established by Ezra and Nehemiah.

In Judaza and through Samaria 87
The first foreign colonists of Samaria brought their
• 2 Kings peculiar forms of idolatry with them.a But the
xvii.30,31 Providential judgments by which they were
visited led to the introduction of a spurious Judaism, con
sisting of a mixture of their former superstitions with
» 2 Kings Jewish doctrines and rites.b Although this state
xvu. 28-41 0f matters resembled that which had obtained in
the original kingdom of Israel, perhaps just because of
this, Ezra and Nehemiah, when reconstructing the Jewish
commonwealth, insisted on a strict separation between
those who had returned from Babylon and the Samaritans,
resisting equally their offers of co-operation and their at
tempts at hindrance. This embittered the national feeling
of jealousy already existing, and led to that constant hos
tility between Jews and Samaritans which has continued
to this day. The religious separation became final when
the Samaritans built a rival temple on Mount Gerizim,
and Manasseh, the brother of Juddua, the Jewish High-
Priest, having refused to annul his marriage with the
daughter of Sanballat, was forced to flee, and became the
High-Priest of the new Sanctuary. Henceforth, by impu
dent falsification of the text of the Pentateuch, Gerizim was
declared the rightful centre of worship, and the doctrines
and rites of the Samaritans exhibited a curious imitation
and adaptation of those prevalent in Judasa. As might
be expected, their tendency was Sadducean rather than
Pharisaic. In general it may be said that, while on certain points
Jewish opinion remained always the same, the judgment
passed on the Samaritans, and especially as to intercourse
with them, varied, according as they showed more or less
active hostility towards the Jews.1
The expression, ' the Jews have no dealings with the
«st John Samaritans,'0 finds its Rabbinic counterpart in
iT- 9 this : ' May I never set eyes on a Samaritan ; '
or else, ' May I never be thrown into company with
him ! ' A Rabbi in Cassarea explains, as the cause of these
changes of opinion, that formerly the Samaritans had been
1 For more precise details see the 'Life and Times of Jesus the Mes
siah,' vol. i. pp. 400, 401.

88 • Jesus the Messiah
observant of the Law, which they no longer were. Mat
ters proceeded so far, that they were entirely excluded
from fellowship. But at the time of Christ Jewish tole
ration declared all their food to be lawful, and there would
be no difficulty as regarded the purchase of victuals on the
part of the disciples of Jesus.
The Samaritans strongly believed in the Unity of God ;
they held the doctrine of Angels and devils ; they received
the Pentateuch as of sole Divine authority ; they regarded
Mount Gerizim as the place chosen of God, maintaining
that it alone had not been covered by the Flood, as the
Jews asserted of Mount Moriah; they were most strict
and zealous in what of Biblical or traditional Law they
received ; and they looked for the coming of a Messiah, in
Whom the promise would be fulfilled, that the Lord God
would raise up a Prophet from the midst of them, like
unto Moses, in Whom His words were to be, and unto
•Dentxviii. Whom they should hearken." Thus while in
ls'18 some respects access to them would be more
difficult than to His own countrymen, yet in others Jesus
would find there a soil better prepared for the Divine Seed,
or, at least, less encumbered by the thistles and tares of
traditionalism and Pharisaic bigotry.

CHAPTER XVII.
JESUS AT THE WELL OF SYCHAH.
(St. John iv. 1-42.)
There is not a district in ' the Land of Promise ' which
presents a scene more fair or rich than the plain of Samaria
(the modern Et Multhna). As we stand on the summit of
the ridge, on the way from Shiloh, the eye travels over the
wide sweep, extending more than seven miles northward,
till it rests on the twin heights of Gerizim and Ebal,
which enclose the Valley of Shechem. Following the
straight olive-shaded road from the south to where a spur
of Gerizim jutting south-east forms the Vale of Shechem,

Jesus at the Well of Sychar 89
we stand by that ' Well of Jacob ' to which so many sacred
memories attach. North of the entrance to the Vale of
Shechem rises Mount Ebal, which also forms, so to speak,
the western wall of the northern extension of the Plain of
Samaria. Here it bears the name of HI 'Aslcar, from
Askar, the ancient Sychar, which nestles at the foot of
Ebal, at a distance of about two miles from Shechem.
It was, as we judge, about six o'clock of an evening in
early summer, when Jesus, accompanied by the small band
which formed His disciples, emerged into the rich Plain of
Samaria. Far as the eye could sweep, ' the fields ' were
' already white unto the harvest.' They had reached ' the
Well of Jacob.' Here Jesus waited, while the others
went to the little town of Sychar on their work of
ministry. This latter circumstance marks that it was
evening, since noon was not the time either for -the sale
of provisions or for their purchase by travellers. Probably
John remained with the Master. They would scarcely
have left Him alone, especially in that place ; and the
whole narrative reads like that of one who had been present
at what passed.
There was another well on the east side of the town,
and much nearer to Sychar than ' Jacob's Well ; ' and to it
probably the women of Sychar generally resorted. It
should also be borne in mind that in those days such work
no longer devolved, as in early times, on the matrons and
maidens of fair degree, but on women in much humbler
station. This Samaritaness may have chosen 'Jacob's
Well,' perhaps, because she had been at work or lived in
that direction ; perhaps because, if her character was what
seems implied in verse 18, the concourse of the more com
mon women at the village-well of an evening might scarcely
make such a pleasant place of resort to her.
But whatever the motives which brought her thither,
both to Jesus and to the woman the meeting was unsought :
providential in the truest sense. The request : ' Give Me
to drink,' was natural on the part of the thirsty traveller.
Even if He had not spoken, the Samaritaness would have
recognised the Jew by His appearance and dress, if, as

90 Jesus the Messiah
seems likely, He wore the fringes on the border of His
garment.1 His speech would by its pronunciation place
His nationality beyond doubt. Any kindly address, con
veying a request not absolutely necessary, would naturally
surprise the woman ; for, as the Evangelist explanatively
adds : ' Jews have no dealings with Samaritans.' Besides,
we must remember that this was an ignorant Samaritaness
of the lower order. In the mind of such an one, two
points would mainly stand out : that the Jews in their
wicked pride would have no intercourse with them ; and
that Gerizim, not Jerusalem, as the Jews falsely asserted,
was the place of rightful worship. It was, therefore,
genuine surprise which expressed itself in the question :
' How is it, Thou, being a Jew, of me askest to drink ? '
And the ' How is it ? ' of the Samaritan woman soon
and fully found its answer. He Who had spoken to her
was not like what she thought and knew of the Jews. He
was what Israel was intended to have become to mankind ;
what it was the final object of Israel to have been. Had
she but known it, the present relation between them would
have been reversed ; the Well of Jacob would have been
but a symbol of the living water, which she would have
asked and He given.
The ' How can these things be ? ' of Nicodemus finds a
parallel in the bewilderment of the woman. Jesus had
nothing wherewith to draw from the deep well. Whence,
then, the ' living water ' ? And yet, as Nicodemus' ques
tion not only similarly pointed to a physical impossibility,
but also indicated his searching after higher meaning and
spiritual reality, so that of the woman : ' No ! art Thou
greater than our father Jacob ? ' — who at such labour had
dug this well, finding no other means than this of supply
ing his own wants and those of his descendants. Nor did
the answer of Jesus now differ in spirit from that which
He had given to the Rabbi of Jerusalem. But to this
1 The ' fringes ' on the Tallith of the Samaritans are blue, while
those worn by the Jews are white. The Samaritans do not seem to
have worn phylacteries. But neither did many of the Jews of old — nor,
I feel persuaded, did our Lord.

Jesus at the Well of Sychar 91
woman His answer must be much simpler and plainer than
to the Rabbi. It was not water like that of Jacob's Well
which He would give, but ' living water.' In the Old Tes
tament a perennial spring had, in figurative language, been
• Gen. xxvi. thus designated," in significant contrast to water
™4. fev' accumulated in a cistern.b But there was more
" Jer. u. 13 than this : it was water which, in him who had
drunk of it, became a well, not merely quenching the thirst
on this side time, but ' springing up into everlasting life.'
We would mark here that though in many passages
the teaching of the Rabbis is compared to water, it is
never likened to a 'well of water springing up.' The
difference is great. For it is the boast of Rabbinism that
its disciples drink of the waters of their teachers ; chief
merit lies in receptiveness not spontaneity, and higher
praise cannot be given than that of being ' a well-plastered
cistern, which lets not out a drop of water.' But this is
quite the opposite of what our Lord teaches. For it is
only true of what man can give when we read this (in
Ecelus. xxiv. 21): ' They that drink me shall yet be
thirsty.' At the Feast of Tabernacles, amidst universal
rejoicing, water from Siloam was poured from a golden
pitcher on the altar, as emblem of the outpouring of the
Holy Ghost.1 But the saying of our Lord to the Samari
taness referred neither to His teaching, nor to the Holy
Ghost, nor yet to faith, but to the gift of that new spiritual
fife in Him, of which faith is but the outcome.
If the humble, ignorant Samaritaness had formerly but
imperfectly guessed that there was a higher meaning in
the words of Him Who spake to her, she now believes in
the incredible ; believes it because of Him and in Him ;
believes also in a satisfaction through Him of outward
wants, reaching up beyond this to the everlasting life.
But ail these elements are still in strange confusion. And
thus Jesus reached her heart in that dimly conscious longing
which she expressed, though her intellect was incapable of
distinguishing the new truth.
1 See 'The Temple and its Ministry,' pp. 241-243.

92 Jesus the Messiah
It is difficult to suppose that He asked the woman to
call her husband with the primary object of awakening in
her a sense of sin. Nor does anything in her bearing in-
¦ ver.19 dicate any such effect; indeed, her reply0- and
» ver. 29 ner after-reference to it b rather imply the con
trary. We do not even know for certain whether the five
previous husbands had died or divorced her, and, if the
latter, with whom the blame lay, although not only the
peculiar mode in which our Lord refers to it but the
present condition of the woman seem to point to a sinful
life in the past. In Judasa a course like hers would have
been almost impossible; but we know too little of the
social and moral condition of Samaria to judge of what
might there be tolerated. On the other hand, we have
abundant evidence that, when the Saviour so unexpectedly
laid open to her a past which He could only supernatu-
rally have known, the conviction at once arose in her that
He was a Prophet, just as in similar circumstances it had
• st. John been forced upon Nathanael.0
i. 48, 49 This conviction, sudden but firm, was already
faith in Him; and so the goal had been attained — not,
perhaps, faith in His Messiahship, about which she might
have only very vague notions, but in Him. We feel that
the woman has 'no after-thought, no covert purpose in
what she now asks. All her life long she had heard that
Gerizim was the mount of worship, and that the Jews were
in deadly error. But here was an undoubted Prophet, and
He a Jew. Were they then in error about the right place
of worship, and what was she to think and to do ?
Once more the Lord answers her question by leading
her far beyond all controversy : even on to the goal of all
His teaching. ' There cometh an hour, when neither in this
mountain, nor yet in Jerusalem, ye shall worship the Father.'
Words, these, that pointed to the higher solution in the
worship of a common Father, which would be the worship
neither of Jews nor of Samaritans, but of children. And
yet there was truth in their present differences. ' Ye wor
ship ye know not what : we worship what we know, since
salvation is from out the Jews.' The Samaritan was

THE WOMAN OF SAMARIA.

Jesus at the Well of Sychar 93
aimless worship, because it wanted the goal of all the Old
Testament institutions, that Messiah ' Who was to be of
» &om. i. 3 th® seed, of David ' a — for of the Jews, ' as con-
'Eom.ix.5 cerning the flesh,' was Christ to come.b But
only of present interest could such distinctions be ; for
an hour would come, nay, already was, when the true
worshippers would ' worship the Father in spirit and in
truth, for the Father also seeketh such for His worshippers.
Spirit is God' — and only worship in spirit and in truth
could be acceptable to such a God.
Higher teaching than this could not be uttered. And
she who heard thus far understood it, that in the glorious
picture, which was set before her, she saw the coming of
the Kingdom of the Messiah. ' I - know that Messiah
cometh. When He cometh, He will tell us all things.'
It was then that, according to the need of that untutored
woman, He told her plainly what in Judaea, and even by
His disciples, would have been carnally misinterpreted and
misapplied : that He was the Messiah.
It was the crowning lesson of that day. The disciples
had returned from Sychar. That Jesus should converse
with a woman was so contrary to all Judasan notions of a
Rabbi, that they wondered. Yet, in their reverence for
Him, they dared not ask any questions. Meanwhile the
woman, forgetful of her errand, and only conscious of that
new well-spring of life which had risen within her, had
left the unfilled waterpot, and hurried into ' the City.'
' Come, see a man who told me all that I have done. No —
is this the Christ ? ' We infer that these strange tidings
soon gathered many around her ; that they questioned, and
as they ascertained from her the indisputable fact of His
superhuman knowledge believed on Him, so far as the
woman could set Him before them as object of faith.0
¦- w. 39 40 Under this impression ' they went out of the City,
* ver. 30 an(j came on their way towards Him.' d
Meantime the disciples had urged the Master to eat
of the food which they had brought. But His Soul was
otherwise engaged. His words of rebuke made them won
der whether, unknown to them, some one had brought Him

94 Jesus the Messiah
» st. Matt food. It was not the only nor the last instance
xvi. 6, 7 0f their dulness to spiritual realities."
Yet with Divine patience He bore with them : ' My
meat is, that I may do the Will of Him that sent Me, and
that I may accomplish (bring to a perfect end) His work.'
To the disciples that work appeared still in the far future.
To them it seemed as yet little more than seed-time ; the
green blade was only sprouting ; the harvest of such a
Messianic Kingdom as they expected was still months dis
tant. To correct their mistake, the Divine Teacher, as so
often, and as best adapted to His hearers, chose His illus
tration from what was visible around. To show their
meaning more clearly, we venture to reverse the order of
the sentences which-' Jesus spoke : ' Behold, I say unto
you, lift up your eyes and look [observantly] at the fields,
that they are white to the harvest. [But] do ye not say
that there are yet four months, and the harvest cometh ? '
Notice how the Lord further unfolded His own lesson
of present harvesting, and their inversion of what was
sowing and what reaping time. ' Already ' he that
reaped received wages, and gathered fruit unto eternal life
(which is the real reward of the Great Reaper, the seeing
of the travail of His Soul), so that in this instance the
sower rejoiced equally as the reaper. And, in this respect,
the otherwise cynical proverb, that one was -the sower,
another the reaper of his sowing, found a true application.
It was indeed so, that the servants of Christ were sent to
reap what others had sown, and to enter into their labour.
And yet, as in this instance of the Samaritans, the sower
would rejoice as well as the reaper.
It was as Christ had said. The Samaritans, who
believed ' because of the word ' (speech) ' of the woman
[what she said] as she testified ' of the Christ, ' when they
came ' to that well, ' asked Him to abide with them. And
He abode there two days. And many more believed
because of His own word (speech, discourse), and said
unto the woman : No longer because of thy speaking do
we believe. For we ourselves have heard, and know, that
this is truly the Saviour of the world.'

95

CHAPTER XVIII.
THE CURE OF THE 'NOBLEMAN'S' SON AT CAPERNAUM.
(St. Matt. iv. 12 ; St. Mark i. 14 ; St. Luke iv. 14, 15 ; St. John iv. 43-54.)
When Jesus returned to Galilee, it was in circumstances
entirely different from those under which He had left it.
• st John iv. ^s He Himself said,a there had, perhaps natur-
44 ally, been prejudices connected with the humble
ness of His Upbringing, and the familiarity engendered by
knowledge of His home-surroundings. These were over
come when the Galileans had witnessed at the feast in
Jerusalem what He had done. Accordingly, they were
now prepared to receive Him with the reverent attention
which His Word claimed. We may conjecture that it
was partially for reasons such as these that He first bent
His steps to Cana. The miracle, which had there been
'st. John u. wrought,b would still further prepare the people
1-11 for His preaching. Besides, this was the home
of Nathanael, in whose house welcome would now await
Him. It was here that the second recorded miracle of His
Galilean ministry was wrought, with what effect upon the
whole district may be judged from the expectancies
• st.Lukeiv. which the fame of it escitei even in Nazareth,
23 the city of His early upbringing.0
It appears that the son of one of Herod Antipas' officers
was sick, and at the point of death. When tidings reached
the father that the Prophet, or more than Prophet, Whose
fame had preceded Him to Galilee, had come to Cana, he
resolved in his despair of other means to apply to Him
for the cure of his child. We do not assume that this
' court-officer ' was actuated by spiritual belief in the Son
of God when applying to Him for help. Rather would
we go to almost the opposite extreme, and regard him as
simply actuated by what, in the circumstances, might be
the views of a devout Jew. Instances are recorded in
the Talmud, which may here serve as our guide. Various

96 Jesus the Messiah
cases are related in which those seriously ill, and even at
the point of death, were restored by the prayers of cele
brated Rabbis.
But the great and vital contrast lies alike in what was
thought of Him Who was instrumental in the cure and in
the moral effects which followed. The profane representa
tion of the relation between God and His servants, the
utterly unspiritual view of prayer, which are displayed by
the Rabbis, and their daring self-exaltation mark suffi
ciently the contrast in spirit between the Jewish view and
that which underlies the Evangelic narrative.
When, to the request that Jesus would come down to
Capernaum to perform the cure, the Master replied, that
unless they saw signs and wonders they would not believe,
what He reproved was not the request for a miracle,
which was necessary, but the urgent plea that He should
come down to Capernaum for that purpose. That request
argued ignorance of the real character of the Christ, as if
He were either merely a Rabbi endowed with special
power, or else a miracle-monger. What He intended to
teach this man was, that He, Who had life in Himself,
could restore life at a distance as easily as by His Pre
sence ; by the word of His Power as readily as by personal
application. When the ' court-officer ' had learned this
lesson, he became ' obedient unto the faith,' and ' went his
• ver. so way,'a presently to find his faith both crowned
"ver.53 and perfected.b
Whether this c royal officer' was Chuza, Herod's
steward, whose wife, under the abiding impression of this
miracle to her child, afterwards gratefully ministered to
„ gt lllto Jesus,0 must remain undetermined. Suffice it
via. 3 to mark the progress in the ' royal officer' from
* ver. so belief in the power of Jesus to faith in His
* Ter- 5 word,3 and thence to absolute faith in Him,0 with
its expansive effect on that whole household. And so are
we ever led from the lower stage of belief by what we see
Him do, to that higher faith which springs from experi
mental knowledge of what He is.

97

CHAPTER XIX.
THE SYNAGOGUE AT NAZARETH — SYNAGOGUE-WORSHIP
AND ARRANGEMENTS.
(St. Luke iv. 16.)
The stay in Cana, though we have no means of determin
ing its length, was probably of only short duration. Per
haps the Sabbath of the same week already found Jesus in
the Synagogue of Nazareth.
As the lengthening shadows of Friday's sun closed
around the quiet valley, He would hear the well-remem
bered double blast of the trumpet from the roof of the
Synagogue-minister's house, proclaiming the advent of the
holy day. Once more it sounded through the still summer-
air, to tell all that work must be laid aside. Yet a third
time it was heard, ere the ' minister ' put it aside close by
where he stood, not to profane the Sabbath by carrying it ;
for now the Sabbath had really commenced, and the festive
Sabbath lamp was lit.
Sabbath morn dawned, and early He repaired to that
Synagogue where He had so often worshipped in the
humble retirement of His rank, sitting, not up there
among the elders and the honoured, but far back. The
old well-known faces were around Him, the old well-re
membered words and services fell on His ear. And now
He was again among them, a stranger among His own
countrymen ; this time, to be looked at, listened to, tested,
tried. It was the first time, so far as we know, that He
taught in a Synagogue, and this Synagogue that of His
own Nazareth.
That Synagogues originated during, or in consequence
of, the Babylonish captivity, is admitted by all. The Old
Testament contains no allusion to their existence, and the
Rabbinic attempts to trace them even to Patriarchal times
deserve, ol course, no serious consideration. We can
readily understand how, during the long years of exile in
H

98 Jesus the Messiah
Babylon, places and opportunities for common worship on
Sabbaths and feast-days must have been felt almost a
necessity. This would furnish, at least, the basis for the
institution of the Synagogue. After the return to Pal
estine, and still more by ' the dispersed abroad,' such
' meeting-houses ' would become absolutely requisite. Here
those who were ignorant even of the language of the Old
Testament would have the Scriptures read and ' targumed '
to them. It was but natural that prayers, and, lastly,
addresses, should in course of time be added. Thus the
regular Synagogue services would gradually arise ; first
on Sabbaths and on feast- or fast-days, then on ordinary
days, at the same hours as, and with a sort of internal
correspondence to, the worship of the Temple. The services
on Mondays and Thursdays were special, these being the
ordinary market-days, when the country-people came into
the towns, and would avail themselves of the opportunity
for bringing any case that might require legal decision
before the local Sanhedrin, which met in the Synagogue,
and consisted of its authorities. Naturally, these two
days would be utilised to afford the country-people,
who lived far from the Synagogues, opportunities for
worship. A congregation, according to Jewish Law, must consist
of at least ten men. Another and perhaps more important
rule was as to the direction in, which Synagogues were to
be built, and which worshippers should occupy during
prayer. Prayer towards the east was condemned, on the
ground ofthe false worship towards the east mentioned in
Ezek. viii. 16. The prevailing direction in Palestine was
towards the west, as in the Temple. It is a mistake to
suppose that the men and women sat in opposite aisles,
separated by a low wall.
We can with the help given by recent excavations form
a conception of these ancient Synagogues. The Synagogue
is built of the stone of the country. The flooring is formed
of slabs of white limestone ; the walls are solid (from 2 even
to 7 feet in thickness), and well built of stones, rough in
the exterior, but plastered in the interior. The building ia

Synagogue-worship and Arrangements 99
furnished with sufficient windows to admit light. The roof
is flat, the columns being Sometimes connected by blocks of
stone, on which massive rafters rest.
Entering by the door at the southern end, and making
the circuit to the north, we take our position in front of
the women's gallery. Those colonnades form the body of
the Synagogue. At the south end, facing north, is a
movable ' Ark,' containing the sacred rolls of the Law and
the Prophets. It was made movable, so that it might be
carried out, as on public fasts. Steps generally led up to
it. In front hangs the Vilon or curtain. But the Holy
Lamp is never wanting, in imitation of the undying light
•Exod. in the Temple.a Right before the Ark, and facing
xxvn. 20 kae peop}e) are the seats of honour, for the rulers
*st.Matt. of the Synagogue and the honourable.11 The place
xxm.6 for j^m wj^0 i6a(jg ^3 devotion of the people is
also in front of the Ark, either elevated, or else, to mark
humility, lowered. In the middle of the Synagogue (so
generally) is the elevation, on which there is the desk, from
which the Law is read. This is also called the chair, or
throne. Those who are to read the Law will stand, while
he who is to preach or deliver an address will sit. Beside
them will be the Methurgeman, either to interpret or to
repeat aloud what is said.
To neglect attendance on the services of the Synagogue
would not only, involve personal guilt, but bring punish
ment upon the whole district. Indeed, to be effectual,
prayer must be offered in the Synagogue. At the same
time, the more strict ordinances in regard to the Temple,
such as that we must not enter it carrying a staff, nor with
shoes, nor even dust on the feet, nor with scrip or purse,
do not apply to the Synagogue, as of comparatively inferior
sanctity. However, the Synagogue must not be made a
thoroughfare. We must not behave lightly in it. We
may not joke, laugh, eat, talk, dress, nor resort there for
shelter from sun or rain. Only Rabbis and their disciples,
to whom so many things are lawful, and who, indeed, must
look upon the Synagogue as if it were their own dwelling,
may eat, drink, perhaps even sleep there. Under certain
H 2

ioo Jesus the Messiah
circumstances also, the poor and strangers may be fed
there. But, in general, the Synagogue must be regarded
as consecrated to God.
All this, irrespective of any Rabbinic legends, shows
with what reverence these ' houses of congregation' were
regarded. And now the weekly Sabbath, the pledge
between Israel and God, had once more come. To meet it
as a bride or queen, each house was adorned on the Friday
evening. The Sabbath lamp was lighted ; the festive
garments put on ; the table provided with the best which
the family could afford ; and the benediction spoken over
a cup of wine, which, as always, was mixed with water.
And as Sabbath morning broke, they hastened with
quick steps to the Synagogue ; for such was the Rabbinic
rule in going, while it was prescribed to return with slow
and lingering steps. Jewish punctiliousness defined every
movement and attitude in prayer. If those rules were
ever observed in their entirety, devotion must have been
crushed under their weight. But we have evidence that,
in the time of our Lord, and even later, there was room
for personal freedom left ; for not only was much in the
services determined by the usage of each place, but the
leader of the devotions might preface the regular service
by free prayer, or insert such between certain parts of the
liturgy. The officials are all assembled. The .lowest of these
» st. Luke was the Ghazzan, or minister ,a who often acted also
1T-2° as schoolmaster. For this reason, and because
the conduct of the services frequently devolved upon him,
great care was taken in his selection. Then there were
the elders or rulers, whose chief was the Archisynagogos.
All the rulers of the Synagogue were duly examined as to
their knowledge, and ordained to the office. They formed
the local Sanhedrin or tribunal. But their election de
pended on the choice of the congregation ; and absence
of pride, as also gentleness and humility, are mentioned
as special qualifications.
To these regular officials we have to add those who
officiated during the service, the delegate of the congrega-

Synagogue- worship and Arrangements ioi
tion — who, as its mouthpiece, conducted the devotions —
the Interpreter or Methurgeman, and those who were
called on to read in the Law and the Prophets, or else to
preach. We are now in some measure prepared to follow the
worship on that Sabbath in Nazareth. On His entrance
into the Synagogue, or perhaps before that, the chief
ruler would request Jesus to act for that Sabbath as the
Sheliach Tsibbur, or delegate of the congregation. For,
according to the Mishnah, the person who read in the
Synagogue the portion from the Prophets, was also expected
to conduct the devotions, at least in greater part. If this
rule were enforced at that time, then Jesus would ascend
the elevation, and, standing at the lectern, begin the
service by two prayers.
After this followed what may be designated as the
Jewish Creed. It consisted of three passages from the
• Dentvi. Pentateuch," so arranged that the worshipper
2i9; Numb? *°°k upon himself first the yoke of the Kingdom
iv. 37-41 0f Heaven, and only after it the yoke of the com
mandments. The recitation of these passages was followed
by a prayer.
This finished, he who officiated took his place before
the Ark, and there repeated certain ' Eulogies ' or Bene
dictions. These are eighteen, or rather nineteen, in
number, and date from different periods. But on
Sabbaths only the three first and the three last of them,
which are also those undoubtedly of greatest age, were
repeated, and between them certain other prayers in
serted. After this the Priests, if any were in the Synagogue,
spoke the blessing, elevating their hands up to the
shoulders (in the Temple above the head). This was
i>comp. called the lifting up of hands." In the Syna-
1 Tim. 11. 8 gogue the priestly blessing was spoken in three
sections, the people each time responding by an Amen.
Lastly, in the Synagogue, the word ' Adonai ' was sub
stituted for Jehovah. If no descendants of Aaron were
present, the leader of the devotions repeated the usual

102 Jesus the Messiah
¦ Numb.vi. priestly benediction.1 After the benediction
2J-26 followed the last Eulogy.
It was the practice of leading Rabbis, probably dating
from very early times, to add at the close of this Eulogy
certain prayers of their own, either fixed or free, of which
the Talmud gives specimens. From very early times also,
the custom seems to have obtained that the descendants
of Aaron, before pronouncing the blessing, put off their
shoes. In the benediction the Priests turned towards the
people, while he who led the ordinary prayers stood with
his back to the people, looking towards the Sanctuary.
The public prayers closed with an Amen, spoken by the
congregation. The liturgical part being thus completed, one of the
most important, indeed, what had been the primary object
of the Synagogue service, began. The Chazzan, or
minister, approached the Ark, and brought out a roll of
the Law. It was taken from its case and unwound from
those cloths which held it. The time had now come for
the reading of portions from the Law and the Prophets.
The reading of the Law was both preceded and followed by
brief Benedictions.
Upon the Law followed a section from the Prophets.
As the Hebrew was not generally understood, the
Methurgeman, or Interpreter, stood by the side of the
•> com reader," and translated into the Aramasan verse
1 cor. xiv. by verse, and in the section from the Prophets,
after every three verses. But the Methurgeman
was not allowed to read his translation, lest it might
popularly be regarded as authoritative. This may help us
in some measure to understand the popular mode of Old
Testament quotations in the New Testament. So long as
the substance ofthe text was given correctly, the Methurge
man might paraphrase for better popular understanding.
Again, it is but natural to suppose that the Methurgeman
would prepare himself for his work by such materials as
he would find to hand, among which, cf course, the trans
lation of the LXX. would hold a prominent place. This
may in part account alike for the employment ofthe LXX.,

Synagogue- worship and Arrangements 103
and for its Targumic modifications, in the New Testament
quotations. The reading of the section from the Prophets was in
olden times immediately followed by an address, discourse,
or sermon, that is, where a Rabbi capable of giving such
instruction, or a distinguished stranger, was present.
Neither the leader of the devotions (' the delegate of the
congregation '), nor the Methurgeman, nor yet the preacher,
required ordination. That was reserved for the rule of the
congregation, whether in legislation or administration,
doctrine or discipline. The only points required in the
preacher were the necessary qualifications, both mental
and moral.
Jewish tradition uses the most extravagant terms to
extol the institution of preaching. So it came, that many
cultivated this branch of theology. When a popular
preacher was expected, men crowded the area of the
Synagogue, while women filled the gallery. On such
occasions, there was the additional satisfaction of feeling
that they had done something specially meritorious in
running with quick steps, and crowding into the Syna
gogue. For, was it not to carry out the spirit of Hos.
vi. 3, xi. 10 — at least, as Rabbinically understood ? Even
grave Rabbis joined in this ' pursuit to know the Lord,'
and one of them comes to the somewhat caustic conclusion,
that ' the reward of a discourse is the haste.'
It is interesting to know that, at the close of his
address, the preacher very generally referred to the great
Messianic hope of Israel. The service closed with a short
prayer, or what we would term an ' ascription.'
We can now picture to ourselves the Synagogue, its
worship and teaching. We can see the leader of the
people's devotions as (according to Talmudic direction) he
first refuses, with mock modesty, the honour conferred on
him by the chief ruler ; then, when urged, prepares to go ;
and when pressed a third time, goes up with slow and
measured steps to the lectern, and then before the Ark.
We can imagine how one after another, standing and
facing the people, unrolls and holds in his hand a copy of

104 Jesus the Messiah
the Law or of the Prophets, and reads from the Sacred
Word, the Methurgeman interpreting. Finally, we can
picture it, how the preacher would sit down and begin his
discourse, none interrupting him with questions till he had
finished, when a succession of objections, answers, or in
quiries might await the helper, if the preacher had em
ployed such. And help it certainly was not in many
cases, to judge by the depreciatory remarks which not
unfrequently occur, as to the manners, tone, vanity, self-
conceit, and silliness of the Methurgeman or Amora as he
was Sometimes called. As he stood beside the Rabbi, he
usually thought far more of attracting attention and
applause to himself, than of benefiting his hearers. Hence
some Rabbis would only employ special and trusted inter
preters of their own, who were above fifty years of age.
In short, so far as the sermon was concerned, the impression
it produced must have been, very similar to what we know
the addresses of the monks in the Middle Ages to have
wrought. All the better can we understand, even from
the human aspect, how the teaching of Jesus, alike in its
substance and form, in its manner and matter, differed
from that of the scribes ; how multitudes would hang en
tranced on His word ; and how, everywhere and by all, its
impression was felt to be overpowering.

CHAPTER XX.

THE FIRST GALILEAN MINISTRY.
(St. Matt. iv. 13-17 ; St. Mark i. 14, 15 ; St. Luke iv. 15-32.)
As there could be no un-Jewish forwardness on the part
of Jesus, so would there be none of that mock humility of
reluctance to officiate, in which Rabbinism delighted. It
seems likely that Jesus commenced the first part of the
service, and then pronounced before the ' Ark ' those
Eulogies which were regarded as, in the strictest sense,
the prayer. And now, one by one, Priest, Levite, and,

The First Galilean Ministry 105
in succession, five Israelites, had read from the Law. The
whole narrative seems to imply that Jesus Himself read
the concluding portion from the Prophets. It is most
likely that the lesson for that day was taken from the pro-
» is m 1 2 phecies of Isaiah, and that it included the passage*
^ st. Luke' quoted by the Evangelist as read by the Lord
Jesus." We know that the ' rolls ' on which the
Law was written were distinct from those of the Prophets.
In this instance we are expressly told that the minister
' delivered unto Him the book of the prophet Esaias,' and
that, ' when He had unrolled the book,' He ' found ' the
place from which the Evangelist makes quotation.
It was, indeed, Divine ' wisdom ' — ' the Spirit of the
Lord ' upon Him, which directed Jesus in the choice of the
text for His first Messianic Sermon. It struck the key
note to the whole of His Galilean ministry. The ancient
• The other Synagogue regarded Is. lxi. 1, 2, as one of the
iZxxlafw, three passages,0 in which mention of the Holy
ilmeut. Ghost was connected with the promised redemp-
iii-so tion. In this view, the application which the
passage received in the discourse of our Lord was peculiarly
suitable. For the words in which St. Luke reports what
followed the introductory text seem rather a summary
than either the introduction or part of the discourse of
Christ. ' This day is this Scripture fulfilled in your ears.'
As regards its form, it would be : so to present the teach
ing of Holy Scripture, as that it can be drawn together in
the focus of one sentence ; as regards its substance, that
this be the one focus : all Scripture fulfilled by a present
Christ. There was not a word of that which common Jewish ex
pectancy would have connected with, nay, chiefly accentu
ated in an announcement of the Messianic redemption ; not
a word to raise carnal hopes, or flatter Jewish pride. Truly,
it was the most un-Jewish discourse for a Jewish Messiah
of those days, with which to open His Ministry. And yet
such was the power of these ' words of grace,' that the
hearers hung spell-bound upon them. For the time they
forgot all else — Who it was that addressed them, even the

106 Jesus the Messiah
strangeness of the message, so in contrast to any preach
ing of Rabbi or Teacher that had been heard in that
Synagogue. The discourse had been spoken, and the breathless
silence with which, even according to Jewish custom, it had
been listened to, gave place to the usual after-sermon hum of
an Eastern Synagogue. On one point all were agreed : that
they were marvellous words of grace, which had proceeded
out of His mouth. And still the preacher waited for some
question, which would have marked the spiritual applica
tion of what He had spoken. They were indeed making
application of the Sermon to the Preacher, but in quite
different manner from that to which His discourse had
pointed. It was not the fulfilment of the Scripture in
Him, but the circumstance that such an one as the Son
of Joseph, their village carpenter, should have spoken such
words, that attracted their attention.
They had heard, and now they would fain have seen.
But already the holy indignation of Him, Whom they only
knew as Joseph's Son, was kindled. No doubt they would
next expect that here in His own city, and all the more
because it was such, He would do what they had heard had
taken place in Capernaum. It was the world-old saying,
as speciously popular as most such sayings : ' Charity
begins at home ' — or, according to the Jewish proverb, and
in application to the special circumstances : ' Physician,
heal thyself.' Whereas, if there was any meaning in the
discourse He had just spoken, Charity does not begin at
home ; and ' Physician, heal thyself is not of the Gospel for
the poor, nor yet the preaching of God's Jubilee, but that of
the Devil, whose works Jesus had come to destroy. How could
He say this better than by again repeating, though now with
different application, that sad experience, ' No prophet is
¦ st. John accepted in his own country ; ' a and by pointing
iv- ** to those two Old Testament instances of it, whose
names and authority were most frequently on Jewish lips ?
Not they who were ' their own,' but they who were most
receptive in faith — not Israel, but Gentiles, were those
most markedly favoured in the ministry of Elijah and
of Elisha.

The First Galilean Ministry 107
That Jesus should have turned so fully the light upon
the Gentiles, and flung its large shadows upon them ; that
' Joseph's Son ' should have taken up this position towards
them ; that He would make to them spiritual application
unto death of His sermon, since they would not make it
unto life, stung them to the quick. Away He must out of
His city ; it could not bear His Presence any longer, not
even on that holy Sabbath. Out they thrust Him from
the Synagogue ; out of the city, along the road by the
brow of the hill on which the city is built — perhaps to
that western angle, at present pointed out as the site.
This, with the unspoken intention of crowding Him over
the cliff, which there rises abruptly about forty feet out of
the valley beneath. If we are correct in indicating the
locality, the road here bifurcates, and we can conceive how
Jesus, Who had hitherto allowed Himself to be pressed
onwards by the surrounding crowd, now turned, and by
His look of commanding majesty, which ever and again
wrought on those around miracles of subjection, constrained
them to halt and give way before Him, while unharmed
He passed through their midst.
Cast out of His own city, Jesus pursued His solitary
way towards Capernaum. There, at least, devoted friends
and believing disciples would welcome Him. There, also,
a large draught of souls would fill the Gospel-net. Caper-
» st. Matt, naum would be His Galilean home.a Here He
Sx-1 would, on the Sabbath-days, preach in that
«¦ st. Luke Synagogue, of which the good centurion was the
^t Mark v. builder," and Jairus the chief ruler.0 These
22 names, and the memories connected with them,
are a sufficient comment on the effect of His preaching :
that ' His word was with power.' In Capernaum, also,
was the now believing household ofthe court-officer, whose
only son the Word of Christ, spoken at a distance, had
restored to life. Here also, or in the immediate neigh
bourhood, was the home of His earliest and closest disci
ples, the brothers Simon and Andrew, and of James and
John, the sons of Zebedee.
He came ; and novf Capernaum was not the only place

io8 Jesus the Messiah
where He taught. Rather was it the centre for itinerancy
• st. Matt, through all that district, to preach in its Syna-
iv. 13-17 gogues.a Amidst such ministry of quiet ' power,'
chiefly alone and unattended by His disciples, the summer
passed. To the writer ofthe first Gospel, as, years afterwards,
he looked back on this happy time when he had first seen
the Light, till it had sprung up even to him ' in the region
and shadow of death,' it must have been a time of peculiarly
bright memories. How often, as he sat at the receipt of
custom, must he have seen Jesus passing by ; how often
must he have heard His Words, some, perhaps, spoken to
himself, but all preparing him at once to obey the sum
mons when it came : Hollow Me !
There was a dim tradition in the Synagogue, that this
b . prediction," ' The people that walk in darkness
see a great light,' referred to the new light, with
which God would enlighten the eyes of those who had
penetrated into the mysteries of Rabbinic lore, enabling
them to perceive concerning ' loosing and binding, con
cerning what was clean and what was unclean.' Others
regarded it as a promise to the early exiles, fulfilled when
the great liberty came to them. To Levi-Matthew it
seemed as if both interpretations had come true in those
days of Christ's first Galilean ministry.

CHAPTER XXI.

AT THE 'UNKNOWN' FEAST IN JERUSALEM, AND BY
THE POOL OF BETHESDA.
(St. John v.)
The shorter days of early autumn had come as Jesus passed
from Galilee to what, in the absence of any certain evi
dence, we must still be content to call 'the Unknown
Feast ' in Jerusalem. Thus much, however, seems clear :
that it was either the ' Feast of Wood-offering ' on the
15th of Abh (in August), when, amidst demonstrations of

At the ' Unknown' Feast 109
joy, willing givers brought from all parts of the country
the wood required for the service of the Altar ; or else the
' Feast of Trumpets ' on the 1st of Tishri (about the middle
of September), which marked the beginning of the New
(civil) Year. The journey of Christ to that Feast and its
results are not mentioned in the Synoptic Gospels, because
that Judaean ministry lay, in great measure, beyond their
historical standpoint. But this and similar events belonged
to that grand Self-Manifestation of Christ, with the corre
sponding growth of opposition consequent upon it, which
it was the object of the fourth Gospel to set forth.
It may be inferred that, during the summer of Christ's
first Galilean ministry, when Capernaum was His centre
of action, the disciples had returned to their homes and
usual avocations, while Jesus moved about chiefly alone
and unattended. This explains the circumstance of a
second call, even to His most intimate and closest followers.
It also accords best with that gradual development in
Christ's activity, which, commencing with the more private
teaching of the new Preacher of Righteousness in the
villages by the lake, or in the Synagogues, expanded into
that publicity in which He at last appears, surrounded by
His Apostles, attended by the loving ministry of those to
whom He had brought healing of body or soul, and fol
lowed by a multitude which everywhere pressed around
Him for teaching and help.
This more public activity commenced with the return
of Jesus from ' the Unknown Feast ' in Jerusalem. There
He had, in answer to the challenge of the Jewish authori
ties, for the first time set forth His Messianic claims in all
their fulness. And there, also, He had for the first time
encountered that active persecution unto death, of which
Golgotha was the logical outcome. This Feast, then, was
the time of critical decision.
It seems only accordant with all the great decisive
steps of Him in Whose footprints the disciples trod, after
He had marked them, as it were, with His Blood — that
He should have gone up to that Feast alone and un
attended.

no Jesus the Messiah
The narrative transports us to what, at the time, seems
to have been a well-known locality in Jerusalem, though
all attempts to identify it, or even to explain the name
Bethesda, have hitherto failed. All we know is, that it
was a pool enclosed within five porches, by the sheep-
• Net. m. market, presumably close to the ' Sheep-Gate.' a
32 ; xu. 39 T/his, as seems most likely, opened from the busy
northern suburb of markets, bazaars, and workshops, east
wards upon the road which led over the Mount of Olives
and Bethany to Jericho.
In the five porches surrounding this pool lay ' a great
multitude of the impotent,' in anxious hope of a miraculous
cure. The popular superstition, which gave rise to a
peculiarly painful exhibition of human misery of body and
soul, is strictly true to the times and the people. Even
now travellers describe a similar concourse of poor crippled
sufferers, on their miserable pallets or on rugs, around the
mineral springs near Tiberias, filling, in true Oriental
fashion, the air with their lamentations. In the present
instance there would be even more occasion for this than
around any ordinary thermal spring. For the popular
idea was, that an Angel l descended into the water, causing
it to bubble up, and that only he who first stepped into
the pool would be cured. As thus only one person could
obtain benefit, we may imagine the lamentations of the
' many ' who would, perhaps day by day, be disappointed
in their hopes. This bubbling up of the water was, of
course, due not to supernatural but to physical causes.
Such intermittent springs are not uncommon, and to this
day the so-called ' Fountain of the Virgin ' in Jerusalem
exhibits the same phenomenon. The Gospel-narrative
does not ascribe this ' troubling of the waters ' to Angelic
agency, nor endorse the belief, that only the first who
afterwards entered them could be healed. This was
evidently the belief of the impotent man, as of all the
>¦ st. John v. waiting multitude.b But the words inverse 4
of our Authorised Version, and perhaps, also,
1 For the popular Jewish views on Angels see ' The Life and Times
of Jesus the Messiah,' Appendix xiii.

By the Pool of Bethesda i i i
the last clause of verse 3, are admittedly an interpola
tion. The waters had not yet been 'troubled,' when Jesus
stood among that multitude of sufferers and their attendant
friends. It was in those breathless moments of intense ex
pectancy, when every eye was fixed on the pool, that the
eye of the Saviour searched for the most wretched object
among them all. In him, as a typical case, could He best
do and teach that for which He had come. This ' impotent '
man, for thirty-eight years a hopeless sufferer, without
» ver 7. attendant or friend "¦ among those whom misery
• Comp. st ma(Ie so intensely selfish ; and whose sickness was
John ix. 3 really the consequence of his sin,b and not merely
in the sense which the Jews attached to it ° — this now
seemed the fittest object for power and grace. It is idle
to speak either of faith or of receptiveness on the man's
part.- The essence of the whole history lies in the utter
absence of both ; in Christ's raising, as it were, the dead,
and calling the things that are not as though they were.
The ' Wilt thou be made whole ? ' with which Jesus drew
the man's attention to Himself, was only to probe and lay
bare his misery. And then came the word of power or
rather the power spoken forth, which made him whole
every whit. Away from this pool, in which there was no
healing — for the Son of God had come to him with the
outflowing of His power and pitying help, and he was made
whole. Away with his bed, not although it was the holy
Sabbath, but just because it was the Sabbath of holy rest
and holy delight !
Before the healed man, scarcely conscious of what had
passed, had, with new-born vigour, gathered himself up
and rolled together his coverlet to hasten after Him, Jesus
had already withdrawn.61 In that multitude, all
thinking only of their own sorrows and wants,
He had come and gone unobserved. But they all now
knew and observed this miracle of healing, as they saw
this unbefriended one healed, without the troubling of
waters or first immersion in them.
The Jews saw him, as from Bethesda he carried home

112 Jesus the Messiah
his ' burden.' Most characteristically, it was this external
infringement which they saw, and nothing else ; it was the
Person Who had commanded it Whom they would know,
not Him Who had made whole the impotent man.
It could not have been long after this that the healed
man and his Healer met in the Temple. What He then
said to him completed the inward healing. On the ground
of his having been healed, let him be whole. As he trusted
and obeyed Jesus in the outward cure, so let him now in
wardly and morally trust and obey. Here also this looking
through the external to the internal, through the temporal
to the spiritual and eternal, which is so characteristic of the
after-discourse of Jesus, nay, of all His discourses and of
His deeds, is most marked. The healed man now knew
to Whom he owed faith, gratitude, and trust of obedience ;
and the consequences of this knowledge would make him a
disciple in the truest sense. And this was the only addi
tional lesson which he, as each of us, must learn individu
ally and personally : that the man healed by Christ stands
in quite another position, as regards the morally right,
from what he did before — not only before his healing, but
even before his felt sickness, so that, if he were to go back
to sin, or rather, as the original implies, ' continue to sin,'
a thing infinitely worse would come to him.
And yet something further was required. Jesus must
speak out in clear, open words, what was the hidden inward
meaning of this miracle. The first forthbursting of His
Messianic Mission and Character had come in that Temple
when He realised it as His Father's House, and His Life as
about His Father's business. Again had these thoughts
about His Father kindled within Him in that Temple, when,
on the first occasion of His Messianic appearance there,
He had sought to purge it, that it might be a House of
Prayer. And now, once more in that House, it was the
same consciousness about God as His Father, and His Life
as the business of His Father, which furnished the answer
to the angry invectives about His breach of the Sabbath-
Law. The Father's Sabbath was His ; the Father worked
hitherto and He worked ; the Father's work and His were

By the Pool of Bethesda 113
• st. John v. the same; He was the Son of the Father." And
17 in this He also taught, what the Jews had never
understood, the true meaning of the Sabbath-Law, by em
phasising that which was the fundamental thought of the
Sabbath — ' Wherefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day,
and hallowed it : ' not the rest of inactivity, but of blessing
and hallowing.
Once more it was not His whole meaning, but only
this one point, that He claimed to be equal with God, of which
they took hold. As we understand it, the discourse be
ginning with verse 19 is not a continuation of that which
had been begun in verse 17, but was delivered on another,
though probably proximate occasion. By what He had
said about the Father working hitherto and His working,
He had silenced the multitude, who must have felt that
God's rest was truly that of beneficence, not of inactivity.
But He had raised another question, that of His equality
with God, and for this He was taken to task by the Masters
in Israel. But for the present the majesty of His bearing
overawed His enemies, even as it did to the end, and Christ
could pass unharmed from among them. With this inward
separation and the gathering of hostile parties, closes the
first, and begins the second stage of Christ's Ministry.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE FINAL CALL OF THE FIRST DISCIPLES, AND THE
MIRACULOUS DRAUGHT OF FISHES.
(St. Matt. iv. 18-22 ; St. Mark i. 16-20; St. Luke v. 1-11.)
We are once again out of the great City, and by the Lake
of Galilee. They were other men, these honest, simple, im
pulsive Galileans, than that self-seeking, sophistical, heart
less assemblage of Rabbis, whose first active persecution
Jesus had just encountered, and for the time overawed by
the majesty of His bearing. What wonder that, immedi
ately on His return, ' the people pressed upon Him to hear
His word ' ? I

114 Jesus the Messiah
It seems as if what we are about to relate occurred while
Jesus was returning from Jerusalem. But perhaps it fol
lowed on the first morning after His return. It had pro
bably been a night of storm on the Lake. For the toil of the
¦ st. Luke fishermen had brought them no draught of fishes,3,
Vl 5 and they stood by the shore or in the boats drawn
up on the beach, casting in their nets to ' wash ' them of
sand and pebbles, or to mend what had been torn by the
violence of the waves. It was a busy scene ; for among the
many industries by the Lake of Galilee that of fishing was
not only the most generally pursued, but perhaps the most
lucrative. Tradition had it, that since the days of Joshua, and by
one of his ten ordinances, fishing in the Lake, though under
certain necessary restrictions, was free to all. And as fish
was among the favourite articles of diet, in health and sick
ness, on week-days and especially at the Sabbath-meal,
many must have been employed in connection with this
trade. Frequent and sometimes strange are the Rabbinic
advices, what kinds of fish to eat at different times, and in
what state of preparation. They were eaten fresh, dried,
» st Matt or pickled ; " a kind of ' relish ' or sauce was made
vii. io; xiii. of them, and the roe also prepared. In truth,
these Rabbis are veritable connoisseurs in this
delicacy. It is one of their usual exaggerations when we
read of 300 different kinds of fish at a dinner given to a
great Rabbi, although the common proverb had it to denote
what was abundant, that it was like ' bringing fish to
Acco,' yet fish was largely imported from abroad.
Those engaged in the trade of fishing, like Zebedee and
his sons, were not unfrequently men of means and standing.
This, irrespective of the fact that the Rabbis enjoined some
trade or industrial occupation on every man, whatever his
station. Jewish customs and modes of thinking at that time do
not help us further to understand the Lord's 'call, except so
far as they enable us to apprehend what the words of Jesus
would convey to them. The expression ' Follow Me ' would
be readily understood, as implying a call to become the

The Final Call of the First Disciples 115
permanent disciple of a teacher. Similarly, it was not only
the practice of the Rabbis, but regarded as one of the most
sacred duties, for a Master to gather around him a circle of
disciples. Thus, neither Peter and Andrew, nor the sons
of Zebedee, could have misunderstood the call of Christ, or
even regarded it as strange. On that memorable return
from His temptation in the wilderness they had learned to
• st. John i. know Him as the Messiah,3- and they followed
3r &c. Him. And, now that the time had come for
gathering around Him a separate discipleship, when, with
the visit to the Unknown Feast, the Messianic activity of
Jesus had passed into another stage, that call would not
come as a surprise to their minds or hearts.
So far as the Master was concerned, we mark three
points. First, the call came after the open breach with,
and initial persecution of, the Jewish authorities. It was,
therefore, a call to fellowship in His peculiar relationship to
the Synagogue. Secondly, it necessitated the abandon
ment of all their former occupations, and, indeed, of all
» st. Matt, earthly ties.b Thirdly, it was from the first, and
iv. 20, 22 clearly, marked as totally different from a call to
such discipleship, as that of any other Master in Israel.
It was not to learn more of doctrine, nor more fully to
follow out a life-direction already taken, but to begin, and
to become; something quite new, of which their former
occupation offered an emblem. The disciples of the Rabbis,
even those of John the Baptist, ' followed,' in order to learn ;
they, in order to do, and to enter into fellowship with His
Work. ' Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.'
The more we think of it, the more do we perceive the mag
nitude of the call and of the decision which it implied — for,
without doubt, they understood what it implied, perhaps
more clearly than we do. All the deeper, then, must have
been their belief in Him, and their earnest attachment,
when, with such absolute simplicity and entireness of self-
surrender, that it needed not even a spoken Yea on their
part, they forsook ship and home to follow Him. And so,
successively, Simon and Andraw, and John and James —
those who had been the first to hear, were also the first to
1 2

116 Jesus the Messiah
follow Jesus. And ever afterwards did they remain closest
to Him, who had been the first fruits of His Ministry.
What had passed between Jesus and, first the sons of
Jona, and then those of Zebedee, can scarcely have occupied
many minutes. But already the people were pressing
around the Master in eager hunger for the Word. To
such call the Fisher of Men could not be deaf. The boat of
Peter shall be His pulpit ; He had consecrated it by conse
crating its owner. We need scarcely ask what He spake.
It would be of the Father, of the Kingdom, and of those
who entered it — like what He spake from the Mount, or
to those who laboured and were heavy laden. And Peter
had heard it all as he sat close by. This then was the
teaching of which he had become a disciple; this the
net and the fishing to which he was just called. Could
such an one as he ever hope, with whatever toil, to be a
successful fisher ?
Jesus had read his thoughts, and much more than read
them. This is another object in Christ's miracles to His
disciples : to make clear their inmost thoughts and longings,
and to point them to the right goal. ' Launch out into the
deep, and let down your nets for a draught.' That they
toil in vain all life's night only teaches the need of another
beginning. The ' nevertheless, at Thy word,' marks the
new trust, and the new work as springing from that trust.
Already ' the net was breaking,' when they beckoned to their
partners in the other ship that they should come and help
them. And now both ships are burdened to the water's edge.
But what did it all mean to Simon Peter ? Jesus could
see to the very bottom of Peter's heart. And could he
then be a fisher of men, out of whose heart, after a life's
night of toil, the net would come up empty, or rather only
clogged with sand and torn with pebbles ? This is what
he meant when ' he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying :
Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, 0 Lord.' And
this is why Jesus comforted him : ' Fear not ; from hence
forth thou shalt catch men.'
' And when they had brought their ships to land, they
forsook all and followed Him.'

A Sabbath in Capernaum 117

CHAPTER XXIII.
A SABBATH IN CAPERNAUM.
(St. Matt. viii. 14-17 ; St. Mark i. 21-34 ; St. Luke iv. 33-41.)
It was the Holy Sabbath — the first after He had called
around Him His first permanent disciples ; the first, also,
after His return from the Feast at Jerusalem.
As yet all seemed calm and undisturbed. Those simple,
warm-hearted Galileans yielded themselves to the power of
His words and works, not discerning hidden blasphemy in
what He said, nor yet Sabbath-desecration in His healing
on God's holy day. It is morning, and Jesus goes to the
Synagogue at Capernaum. To teach there was now His
wont. It was not only what He taught, but the contrast
with that to which they had been accustomed on the part
of ' the Scribes,' which filled His hearers with ' amazement.'
There was no appeal to human authority, other than that
of the conscience ; no subtle logical distinctions, legal
niceties, nor clever sayings. Clear, limpid, and crystalline,
His words flowed from out the spring of the Divine Life
that was in Him.
Among the hearers in the Synagogue that Sabbath
morning was one of a class, concerning whose condition,
whatever difficulties may attach to our proper understand
ing of it, the reader of the New Testament must form some
definite idea. The New Testament speaks of those who
had a spirit, or a demon, or demons, or an unclean spirit,
or the spirit of an unclean demon, but chiefly of persons
who were ' demonised.' We find that Jesus not only
tolerated the popular opinion regarding the demonised, but
that He even made it part of His disciples' commission to
>st Matt ' cast out demons,' a and that, when the disciples
^ 8' afterwards reported their success in this, Christ
17, is e *" actually made it a matter of thanksgiving to
God." The same view underlies His reproof to the disciples,

118 Jesus the Messiah
¦ st. Matt, when failing in this part of their work a ; while in
com'p21aJSo St- Lu]ie xi- ] 9> 24> He adoPts and argues on this
xii. 43 &o, view as against the Pharisees.
to^nTdi™ Our next inquiry must be as to the character
oipies Q£. tjie phenomenon thus designated. In view
of the fact that in St. Mark ix. 21, the demonised had
been such ' of a child,' it is scarcely possible to ascribe it
simply to moral causes. Similarly, personal faith does not
seem to have been a requisite condition of healing. Again,
it is evident that all physical or even mental distempers of
the same class were not ascribed to the same cause : some
might be natural, while others were demoniacal. On the
other hand, there were more or less violent symptoms of
disease in every demonised person, and these were greatly
aggravated in the last paroxysm, when the demon quitted
his habitation. We have therefore to regard the pheno
mena described as caused by the influence of such ' spirits,'
primarily, upon that which forms the nexus between body
and mind, the nervous system, and as producing different
physical effects, according to the part of the nervous
system affected. To this must be added a certain im
personality of consciousness, so that for the time the
consciousness was not that of the demonised, but the
demoniser, just as in certain mesmeric states the conscious
ness of the mesmerised is really that of the mesmeriser.
We might carry the analogy farther, and say that the two
states are exactly parallel — the demon or demons taking
the place of the mesmeriser, only that the effects were
more powerful and extensive, perhaps more enduring.
Neither the New Testament, nor even Rabbinic literature,
conveys the idea of permanent demoniac indwelling, to
which the later term ' possession ' owes its origin. On
the contrary, such accounts as that of the scene in the
Synagogue of Capernaum give the impression of a sudden
influence, which in most cases seems occasioned by the
spiritual effect of the Person or of the Words of the
Christ. In our view, it is of the deepest importance
always to keep in mind that the ' demonised ' was not a
permanent state, or possession by the powers of darkness.

A Sabbath in Capernaum 119
For it establishes a moral element, since during the period
of their temporary liberty the demonised might have
shaken themselves free from the overshadowing power, or
sought release from it. Thus the demonised state in
volved personal responsibility, although that of a diseased
and disturbed consciousness.
Whatever want of clearness there may be about the
Jewish ideas of demoniac influences,1 there is none as to
the means proposed for their removal. These may be
broadly classified as : magical means for the prevention of
such influences (such as the avoidance of certain places,
times, numbers, or circumstances ; amulets, &c) ; magical
means for the cure of diseases ; and direct exorcism (either
by certain outward means, or else by formulas of incanta
tion). Again, while the New Testament furnishes no data
by which to learn the views of Jesus or of the Evangelists
regarding the exact character of the phenomenon, it sup
plies the fullest details as to the manner in which the
demonised were set free. This was always the same. It
consisted neither of magical means nor formulas of exor
cism, but always in the Word of Power which Jesus
spake, or entrusted to His disciples, and which the demons
always obeyed. There is here not only difference, but
contrariety in comparison with the current Jewish notions,
and it leads to the conclusion that there was the same
contrast in His views, as in His treatment of the ' de
monised.' In one respect those who were ' demonised ' exhibited
the same phenomenon. They all owned the Power of
Jesus. It was not otherwise in the Synagogue at Caper
naum on that Sabbath morning. What Jesus had spoken
produced an immediate effect on the demonised, though
one which could scarcely have been anticipated. For
there is authority for inserting the word ' straight
en st Mark way ' a immediately after the account of Jesus'
s-23 preaching. Yet, as we think of it, we cannot
imagine that the demon would have continued silent, nor
1 See 'Life and Times,' Appendix XVI.: 'Jewish Views about
Demons and the Demonised.'

120 Jesus the Messiah
yet that he could have spoken other than the truth in the
Presence of the God-Man. Involuntarily, in his con
fessed inability of disguise or resistance, he owns defeat
even before the contest. ' What have we to do with
Thee, Jesus of Nazareth ? Thou art come to destroy us !
I know Thee Who Thou art, the Holy One of God.' And
yet there seems in these words already an emergence of the
consciousness of the demonised, at least in so far that
there is no longer confusion between him and his tor
mentor, and the latter speaks in his own name. One
stronger than the demon had affected the higher part in
the demonised.
But this was not all. Jesus had come not only to de
stroy the works of the Devil, but to set the prisoners free.
By a word of command He gagged the confessions of the
demon, unwillingly made, and even so with hostile intent.
It was not by such voices that He would have His
Messiahship proclaimed.
The same power which gagged the confession also bade
the demon relinquish his prey. One wild paroxysm — and
the sufferer was for ever free. But on them all who saw and
heard it fell the stupor of astonishment. Each turned to
his neighbour with the inquiry : ' What is this ? A new
doctrine with authority ! And He commandeth the un
clean spirits, and they obey Him.'
From the Synagogue we follow the Saviour, in com
pany with His called disciples, to Peter's wedded home.
But no festive meal, as was Jewish wont, awaited them
there. A sudden access of violent ' burning fever,' such
as is even now common in that district, had laid Peter's
mother-in-law prostrate. If we had still any lingering
thought of Jewish magical cures as connected with those
of Jesus, what is now related must dispel it. The Talmud
gives this disease precisely the same name, 'burning
fever,' and prescribes for it a magical remedy, of which
the principal part is to tie a knife wholly of iron by a
braid of hair to a thornbush, and to repeat on successive
days Exod. iii. 2, 3, then ver. 4, and finally ver. 5, after
which the bush is to be cut down, while a certain magical

A Sabbath in Capernaum 121
formula is pronounced. How different from this is the
Evangelic narrative of the cure of Peter's mother-in-law.
Jesus is ' told ' of the sickness ; He is besought for her
who is stricken down. In His Presence disease and misery
cannot continue. Bending over the sufferer He ' rebuked
the fever,' just as He had rebuked 'the demon' in the
Synagogue. Then lifting her by the hand, she rose up,
healed, to 'minister' unto them. It was the first Hia-
conale of woman in the Church — a Diaconate to Christ
and to those that were His.
The sun was setting, and the Sabbath past. On this
autumn evening at Capernaum no one thought of business,
pleasure, or rest. There must have been many homes of
sorrow, care, and sickness there, and in the populous
neighbourhood around. To all had the door of hope now
been opened. No disease too desperate, when even the
demons owned the authority of His mere rebuke. From
all parts they bring them, and the whole city throngs — a
hushed, solemnised multitude — expectant, waiting at the
door of Simon's dwelling. There they laid them, along
the street, up to the market-place, on their beds. Never,
surely, was He more truly the Christ than when, in the
stillness of that evening, He went through that suffering
throng, laying His hands in the blessing of healing on
every one of them, and casting out many devils.

CHAPTER XXIV.
' SECOND JOURNEY THROUGH GALILEE — THE HEALING OF
* THE LEPER.
(St. Matt. iv. 23; viii. 2-4; St. Mark i. 35-45; St. Luke iv. 42-44;
v. 12-16.)
It was, so to speak, an inward necessity that the God-Man,
when brought into contact with disease and misery,
whether from physical or supernatural causes, should re
move it by His Presence, by His touch, by His Word. An

122 Jesus the Messiah
outward necessity also, because no other mode of teaching
equally convincing would have reached those accustomed
to Rabbinic disputations, and who must have looked for
such a manifestation from One Who claimed such autho
rity. And yet, so far from being a mere worker of miracles,
as we should have expected if the history of His miracles
had been of legendary origin, there is nothing more marked
than the pain, we had almost said the humiliation, which
their necessity seems to have carried to His heart. ' Ex
cept ye see signs and wonders, ye will not believe ; ' 'an
evil and adulterous generation seeketh a sign ; ' ' blessed
are they that have not seen, and yet have believed ' — such
are the utterances of Him Who sighed when He opened
» st. Mark the ears of the deaf,a and bade His Apostles look
'st.3Luke f°r higher and better things than power over all
x. 17-20 diseases or even oyer evil spirits.6
And so, thinking of the scene on the evening before,
we can understand how, ' very early, while it was still very
« st. Mark i. dark,' ° Jesus rose up, and went into a solitary
35 place to pray.
As the three Synoptists accordantly state, Jesus now
entered on His second Galilean journey. There can be
little doubt that the chronological succession of events is
here accurately indicated by the more circumstantial
narrative in St. Mark's Gospel.
Significantly, His Work began where that of the
Rabbis, we had almost said of the Old Testament saints,
ended. Whatever remedies, medical, magical, or sympa
thetic, Rabbinic writings may indicate for various kinds of
disease, leprosy is not included in the catalogue. They
left aside what even the Old Testament marked as moral
death, by enjoining those so stricken to avoid all contact
with the living, and even to bear the appearance of
mourners. As the leper passed by, his clothes rent, his
hair dishevelled, and the lower part of his face and hi3
* Lev. xiii. upper lip covered,"1 it was as one going to death
46 who reads his own burial-service, while the
mournful words, ' Unclean ! Unclean ! ' which he uttered
proclaimed that his was both living and moral death.

The Healing of the Leper 123
Again, the Old Testament, and even Rabbinism, took, in
the measures prescribed in leprosy, primarily a moral, or
rather a ritual, and only secondarily a sanitary, view of the
case. In the elaborate Rabbinic code of defilements leprosy
stood foremost. Not merely actual contact with the leper,
but even his entrance defiled a habitation, and everything
in it, to the beams of the roof. But beyond this, Rabbinic
harshness or fear carried its provisions to the utmost
sequences of an unbending logic. Childlessness and leprosy
are described as chastisements, which indeed procure for
the sufferer forgiveness of sins, but cannot, like other
chastisements, be regarded as the outcome of love, nor be
received in love. Tradition had it that, as leprosy attached
to the house, the dress, or the person, these were to be re
garded as always heavier strokes, following as each succes
sive warning had been neglected, and a reference to this
was seen in Prov. xix. 29. Eleven sins are mentioned
which bring leprosy, among them pre-eminently those of
which the tongue is the organ.
Still, if such had been the real views of Rabbinism,
one might have expected that compassion would have been
extended to those who bore such heavy burden of their
sins. Instead of this, their troubles were needlessly in
creased. True, as wrapped in mourner's garb the leper
passed by, his cry ' Unclean ! ' was to incite others to pray
for him — but also to avoid him. No one was even to salute
him ; his bed was to be low, inclining towards the ground.
If he even put his head into a place, it became unclean.
No less a distance than four cubits (six feet) must be kept
from a leper ; or, if the wind came from that direction, a
hundred was scarcely sufficient. Rabbi Meir would not
eat an egg purchased in a street where there was a leper.
Another Rabbi boasted that he always threw stones at
them to keep them far off", while others hid themselves or
ran away. To such extent did Rabbinism carry its inhuman
logic in considering the leper as a mourner, that it even
forbade him to wash his face.
We can now in some measure appreciate the contrast

124 Jesus the Messiah
between Jesus and His contemporaries in His bearing
towards the leper. Or, conversely, we can judge by the
healing of this leper of the impression which the Saviour
had made upon the people. He would have fled from a
Rabbi ; he came in lowliest attitude of entreaty to Jesus.
There was no Old Testament precedent for this approach :
not in the case of Moses, nor even in that of Elisha, and
there was no Jewish expectancy of it. But to have heard
Him teach, to have seen or known Him as healing all man
ner of disease, must have carried the conviction of His
absolute power. And so one can understand this cry : ' If
Thou wilt, Thou canst make me clean.' It is hot a prayer,
but the ground-tone of all prayer — faith in His Power, and
absolute committal to Him of our need. And Jesus,
t6uched with compassion, willed it. It almost seems as if
it were in the very exuberance of power that Jesus, acting
in so direct contravention of Jewish usage, touched the
leper. It was fitting that Elisha should disappoint Naaman's
expectancy that the prophet would heal his leprosy by the
touch of his hand. It was even more fitting that Jesus
should surprise the Jewish leper by touching, ere by His
Word He cleansed him.
It is not quite so easy at first sight to understand why
Christ should with such intense earnestness, almost vehem
ence, have sent the healed man away — as the term bears,
' cast him out,' Perhaps we may here once more gather
how the God-Man shrank from the fame connected with
miracles — specially with such an one — which, as we have
seen, were rather of inward and outward necessity than of
choice in His Mission. Not thronged by eager multitudes
of sight-seers, or aspirants for temporal benefits, was the
Kingdom of Heaven to be preached and advanced. It
would have been the way of a Jewish Messiah, and have
led up to His royal proclamation by the populace. But as
we study the character of the Christ, no contrast seems
more glaring than that of such a scene. And so we read
that when, notwithstanding the Saviour's charge to the
healed leper to keep silence, it was nevertheless all the
more made known by him, He could no more, as before,

The Healing of the Leper 125
enter the cities, but remained without in desert places,
whither they came to Him from every quarter. And in
that withdrawal He spoke, and healed, ' and prayed.'
Christ's injunction of silence to the leper was com
bined with that of presenting himself to the priest, and
conforming to the ritual requirements of the Mosaic Law
in such cases. His conforming to the Mosaic Ritual was
to be 'a testimony unto them.' The Lord did not wish
to have the Law of Moses broken — and broken, not super
seded, it would have been, if its provisions had been in
fringed before His Death, Ascension, and the Coming of
the Holy Ghost had brought their fulfilment.
But there is something else here. The course of this
history shows that the open rupture between Jesus and
the Jewish authorities, which had commenced at the
Unknown Feast at Jerusalem, was to lead to practical
sequences. On the part of the Jewish authorities, it led to
measures of active hostility. The Synagogues of Galilee are
no longer the quiet scenes of His teaching and miracles ;
His Word and deeds no longer pass unchallenged. It had
never occurred to these Galileans, as they implicitly sur
rendered themselves to the power of His words, to question
their orthodoxy. But now, immediately after this occur-
• st. Luke v. rence, we find Him accused of blasphemy. a They
21 had not thought it breach of God's Law when,
on that Sabbath, He had healed in the Synagogue of
Capernaum and in the home of Peter; but after this it
became sinful to extend like mercy on the Sabbath to him
» st. Luke whose hand was withered.1" They had never
"• 7 thought of questioning the condescension of His
intercourse with the poor and needy ; but now they
sought to sap the commencing allegiance of His disciples
by charging Him with undue intercourse with publicans
• st. Luke v. and sinners,0 and by inciting against Him even the
'°st.Lukev. prejudices and doubts of the half-enlightened
33 followers of His own Forerunner."1 All these
new incidents are due to the presence and hostile watch
fulness of the Scribes and Pharisees, who now for the first
time appear on the scene of His ministry. Is it too much

126 Jesus the Messiah
then to infer that, immediately after that Feast at Jerusa
lem, the Jewish authorities sent their familiars into Galilee
after Jesus, and that it was to the presence and influence
of this informal deputation that the opposition to Christ,
which now increasingly appeared, was due ? If so, then
we see not only an additional motive for Christ's injunc
tion of silence on those whom He had healed, and for His
own withdrawal from the cities and their throng, but we
can understand how, as He afterwards answered those
whom John had sent to lay before Christ his doubts, by
pointing to His works, so He replied to the sending forth
of the Scribes of Jerusalem to watch, oppose, and arrest
Him, by sending to Jerusalem as His embassy the healed
leper, to submit to all the requirements of the Law.

CHAPTER XXV.
THE RETURN TO CAPERNAUM — CONCERNING THE FORGIVE
NESS OF SINS  THE HEALING OF THE PARALYSED.
(St. Matt. ix. 1-8 ; St. Mark ii. 1-12 ; St. Luke v. 17-26.)
We are still mainly following the lead of St. Mark, alike
as regards the succession of events and their details.
The second journey of Jesus through Galilee had com
menced in autumn ; the return to Capernaum was ' after
days,' which, in common Jewish phraseology, meant a con
siderable interval. As we reckon, it was winter, which
would equally account for Christ's return to Capernaum,
and for His teaching in the house. For, no sooner ' was
it heard that He was in the house,' than so many flocked
to the dwelling of Peter, which at that period may have
been 'the house' or temporary 'home' of* the Saviour, as
to fill its limited space to overflowing. The general im
pression on our minds is, that this audience was rather in
a state of indecision than of sympathy with Jesus. It in
cluded ' Pharisees and doctors of the Law,' who had come
on purpose from the towns of Galilee, from Judeea, and

The Healing of the Paralysed 127
from Jerusalem. These occupied the ' uppermost rooms,'
sitting, no doubt, near to Jesus. Their influence must
have been felt by the people.
Although in no wise necessary to the understanding
of the event, it is helpful to try and realise the scene. We
can picture to ourselves the Saviour ' speaking the Word '
to that eager, interested crowd, which would soon become
forgetful even of the presence of the watchful ' Scribes.'
Though we know a good deal of the structure of Jewish
houses,1 we feel it difficult to be sure of the exact place
which the Saviour occupied on this occasion. Meetings
for religious study and discussion were certainly held in
the Aliyah or upper chamber. But, on many grounds,
such a locale seems unsuited to the requirements of the
narrative. The house of Peter was, probably, one of the better
dwellings of the middle classes. In that case Jesus would
speak the Word, standing in the covered gallery that ran
round the courtyard of such houses, and opened into the
various apartments. Perhaps He stood within the entrance
of the guest-chamber, while the Scribes sat within that
apartment, or beside Him in the gallery. The court before
Him was thronged, out into the street. All were absorb-
edly listening to the Master, when of a sudden those
appeared who were bearing a paralytic on his pallet. It
had of late become too common a scene to see the sick
thus carried to Jesus to attract special attention. And yet
one can scarcely conceive that, if the crowd had merely
filled an apartment and gathered around its door, it would
not have made way for the sick, or that somehow the
bearers could not have come within sight, or been able to
attract the attention of Christ. But with a courtyard
crowded out into the street, all this would be, of course,
out of the question. In such circumstances access to Jesus
was simply impossible.
Their resolve was quickly taken. If they cannot ap
proach Christ with their burden, they can let it down from
above at His feet. Outside the house, as well as inside, a
1 See ' Sketches of Jewish Life,' pp. 93-96.

128 Jesus the Messiah
stair led up to the roof. They may have ascended it in
this wise, or else reached it by what the Rabbis called ' the
road of the roofs,' passing from roof to roof, if the house
adjoined others in the same street. It would have been
comparatively easy to ' unroof ' the covering of ' tiles,' and
then, ' having dug out ' an opening through the lighter
framework which supported the tiles, to let down their
burden 'into the midst before Jesus.' All this, as done by
four strong men, would be but the work of a few minutes.
But we can imagine the arresting of the discourse of Jesus,
and the surprise of the crowd as this opening through the
tiles appeared, and slowly a pallet was let down before
them. Busy hands would help to steady it, and bring it
safe to the ground. And on that pallet lay one paralysed
— his fevered face and glistening eyes upturned to Jesus.
This energy and determination of faith exceeded aught
that had been witnessed before. Jesus saw it, and He
spake. As yet the lips of the sufferer had not parted to
utter his petition. He believed, indeed, in the power of
Jesus to heal, with all the certitude that issued in the
determination to be laid at His feet. And this open out
burst of faith shone out the more brightly from its contrast
with the unbelief within the breast of those Scribes, who
had come to watch and ensnare Jesus.
As yet no one had spoken, for the silence of expectancy
had fallen on them all. But He, Who perceived man's
unspoken thoughts, knew that there was not only faith,
but also fear, in the heart of that man. Hence the first
words which the Saviour spake to him were : ' Be of good
»st. Matt cheer.' a He had, indeed, got beyond the coarse
1X-2 Judaic standpoint, from which suffering seemed
an expiation of sin. But this other Jewish idea was even
more deeply rooted, had more of underlying truth, and
would, especially in presence of the felt holiness of Jesus,
have a deep influence on the soul, that recovery would not
be granted to the sick unless his sins had first been for
given him. It was this, perhaps as yet only partially
conscious, want of the sufferer before Him, which Jesus
met when He spoke forgiveness to his soul, and that not

The Healing of the Paralysed 129
as something to come, but as an act already past : ' Child,
thy sins have been forgiven.'
In another sense, also, there was a higher ' need be '
for the word which brought forgiveness, before that which
gave healing. Let us recall that Jesus was in the presence
of those in whom the Scribes would fain have wrought dis
belief, not of His power to cure disease — which was patent
to all — but in His Person and authority ; that, perhaps,
such doubts had already been excited. And here it de
serves special notice, that, by first speaking forgiveness,
Christ not only presented the deeper moral aspect of His
miracles, as against their ascription to magic or Satanic
agency, but also established that very claim, as regarded
His Person and authority, which it was sought to invali
date. In this forgiveness of sins He presented His Person
and authority as Divine, and He p'roved it such by the
miracle of healing which immediately followed.
Thus the inward reasoning of the Scribes, which was
open and known to Him Who readeth all thoughts, issued
in quite the opposite of what they could have expected.
It seemed easy to say : ' Thy sins have been forgiven.'
But to Him, Who had ' authority ' to do so on earth, it
was neither more easy nor more difficult than to say :
' Rise, take up thy bed, and walk.' Yet this latter,
assuredly, proved the former, and gave it in the sight of
all men unquestioned reality.

CHAPTER XXVI.
THE CALL OF MATTHEW — RABBINIC THEOLOGY AS REGARDS
THE DOCTRINE OF FORGIVENESS IN CONTRAST TO THE
GOSPEL OF CHRIST— THE CALL OF THE TWELVE APOSTLES.
(St. Matt. ix. 9-13 ; St. Mark ii. 13-17 ; St. Luke v. 27-32 ;
St. Matt. x. 2-4 : St. Mark iii. 13-19 ; St. Luke vi. 12-19.)
In two things chiefly does the fundamental difference
appear between Christianity and all other religious systems,

130 Jesus the Messiah
notably Rabbinism. Rabbinism, and every other system
down to modern humanitarianism, can only generally
point to God for the forgiveness of sin. What here is
merely an abstraction has become a concrete reality in
Christ. He speaks forgiveness on earth, because He is its
embodiment. As regards the second idea, that of the
sinner, all other systems would first make him a penitent,
and then bid him welcome to God ; Christ first welcomes
him to God, and so makes him a penitent. The one
demands, the other imparts life. And so Christ is the
Physician, Whom they that are in health need not, but
they that are sick. And so Christ came not to call the
righteous, but sinners — not to repentance, as our common
text erroneously puts it in St. Matthew ix. 13, and St.
Mark ii. 17, but to Himself, to the Kingdom; and this is
the beginning of repentance.
Thus it is that Jesus, when His teaching becomes dis
tinctive from that of Judaism, puts these two points in the
foreground : the one at the cure of the paralytic, the other
in the call of Levi-Matthew. And this, also, further ex
plains His miracles of healing as for the higher presenta
tion of Himself as the Great Physician, while it gives
some insight into the nexus of thesetwo events, and ex
plains their chronological succession. It was fitting that
at the very outset, when Rabbinism followed and chal
lenged Jesus with hostile intent, these two spiritual facts
should be brought out, and that, not in a controversial,
but in a positive and practical manner. For all the cum
brous observances of Rabbinism — its whole law — were
only an attempted answer to the question : How can a
man be just with God ?
But, as Rabbinism stood self-confessedly silent and
powerless as regarded the forgiveness of sins, so it had
emphatically no word of welcome or help for the sinner.
The very term ' Pharisee,' or ' separated one,' implied the
exclusion of sinners. With this the whole character of
Pharisaism accorded ; perhaps we should have said, that of
Rabbinism, since the Sadducean would here agree with
the Pharisaic Rabbi. The contempt and avoidance of the

The Call of Matthew 131
unlearned, which was so characteristic of the system, arose
not from mere pride of knowledge but from the thought
that, as ' the Law ' was the glory and privilege of Israel —
indeed, the object for which the world was created and
preserved — ignorance of it was culpable. Thus, the un
learned blasphemed his Creator, and missed or perverted
his own destiny. It was a principle that 'the ignorant
cannot be pious.' The yoke of ' the Kingdom of God '
was the high destiny of every true Israelite. Only to
them it lay in external, not internal conformity to the Law
of God : ' in meat and drink,' not ' in righteousness, peace,
and joy in the Holy Ghost.'
Although Rabbinism had no welcome to the sinner, it
was unceasing in its call to repentance and in extolling
its merits. Repentance not only averted punishment and
prolonged life, but brought good, even the final redemption
to Israel and the world at large. But, when more closely
examined, we find that this repentance, as preceding the
free welcome of invitation to the sinner, was only another
form of work-righteousness.
We have already touched the point where, as regards
repentance, as formerly in regard to forgiveness, the
teaching of Christ is in absolute and fundamental con
trariety to that of the Rabbis. According to Jesus Christ,
when we have done all, we are to feel that we are but un-
• stLuke profitable servants.1 According to the Rabbis, as
*™- 10 St. Paul puts it, ' righteousness cometh by the
Law ; ' and, when it is lost, the Law alone can restore
life; while, according to Christian teaching, it only
bringeth death. Thus there was, at the very foundation
of religious life, absolute contrariety between Jesus and
His contemporaries.
The nature of repentance has yet to be more fully
explained. Its gate is sorrow and shame. In that sense
repentance may be the work of a moment, ' as in the
twinkling of an eye,' and a life's sins may obtain mercy by
the tears and prayers of a few minutes' repentance. To
this also refers the beautiful saying, that all which rendered
a sacrifice unfit for the altar, such as that it was broken,
k 2

132 Jesus the Messiah
fitted the penitent for acceptance, since 'the sacrifices of
God were a broken and contrite heart.'
In some respects Rabbinic teaching about the need of
repentance runs close to that of the Bible. But the vital
difference between Rabbinism and the Gospel lies in this :
that whereas Jesus Christ freely invited all sinners, what
ever their past, assuring them of welcome and grace, the
last word of Rabbinism is only despair and a kind of
Pessimism. For it is expressly and repeatedly declared
in the case of certain sins, and characteristically of heresy,
that, even if a man genuinely and truly repented, he must
expect immediately to die — indeed, his death would be
the evidence that his repentance was genuine, since,
¦though such a sinner might turn from his evil, it would be
impossible for him, if he lived, to lay hold on the good,
and. to do it.
It is in the light of Rabbinic views of forgiveness and
repentance that the call of Levi-Matthew must be read, if
we would perceive its full meaning.
Few, if any, could have enjoyed better opportunities
for hearing and quietly thinking over the teaching of the
Prophet of Nazareth, than Levi-Matthew. We do not
wonder that in the sequel his first or purely Jewish name of
Levi is dropped, and only that of Matthew, which would
have been added after his conversion, retained. The
latter, which is the equivalent of Nathanael, or of the
Greek Theodore (gift of God), seems to have been fre
quent. Sitting before his custom-house, as on that day when
Jesus called him, Matthew must have frequently heard
Him as He taught by the sea-shore. Thither not only the
multitude from Capernaum would easily follow ; but here
was the landing-place for the many ships which traversed
the Lake, or coasted from town to town. And this not
only for them who had business in Capernaum or that
neighbourhood, but also for those who would then strike
the great road of Eastern commerce which led from
Damascus to the harbours of the West.
We know much about those ' tolls, dues, and customs,'

The Call of Matthew 133
which made the Roman administration such sore and
vexatious exaction to all ' Provincials,' and which in Judaea
loaded the very name of publican with contempt and
hatred. They who cherished the gravest religious doubts
as to the lawfulness of paying any tribute to Cassar, as
involving in principle recognition of a bondage to which
they would fain have closed their eyes, and the substitu
tion of heathen kingship for that of Jehovah, must have
looked on the publican as the very embodiment of anti-
nationalism. The endless vexatious interferences, the
unjust and cruel exactions, the petty tyranny, and the
extortionate avarice, from which there was neither defence
nor appeal, would make it well-nigh unbearable. It is to
this that the Rabbis so often refer. If ' publicans ' were
disqualified from being judges or witnesses, it was, at
least so far as regarded witness-bearing, because ' they
exacted more than was due.' Hence also it was said that
repentance was specially difficult for tax-gatherers and
custom-house officers.
It is of importance to notice that the Talmud dis
tinguishes two classes of ' publicans : ' the tax-gatherer
in general, and the douanier or custom-house official.
Although both classes fall under the Rabbinic ban, the
douanier — such as Matthew was — is the object of chief
execration. And this, because his exactions were more
vexatious, and gave more scope to rapacity. The tax-
gatherer collected the regular dues, which consisted of
ground-, income-, and poll-tax. The ground-tax amounted
to one-tenth of all grain and one-fifth of the wine and
fruit grown — partly paid in kind, and partly commuted
into money. The income-tax amounted to 1 per cent. ;
while the head-money, or poll-tax, was levied on all per
sons, bond and free, in the case of men from the age of
fourteen, in that of women from the age of twelve up to
that of sixty-five.
If this offered many opportunities for vexatious exac
tions and rapacious injustice, the custom-house official
might inflict much greater hardship upon the poor people.
There was tax and duty upon all imports and exports ; on

134 Jesus the Messiah
all that was bought and sold ; bridge-money, road-money,
harbour-dues, town-dues, &c. The classical reader knows
the ingenuity which could invent a tax and find a name
for every kind of exaction. On goods the ad valorem duty
amounted to from 2-| to 5, and on articles of luxury to
even 12^ per cent. But even this was as nothing, com
pared with the vexation of being constantly stopped on the
journey, having to unload all pack-animals, when every
bale and package was opened, and. the contents tumbled
about, private letters opened, and the douanier ruled
supreme in his insolence and rapacity. This custom
house official was called ' great ' if he employed substi
tutes, and ' small ' if he stood himself at the receipt of
custom. What has been described will cast light on the call
of Matthew by the Saviour of sinners. For we remember
that Levi-Matthew was not only a ' publican,' but of the
worst kind : a ' Molches ' or douanier ; a ' little Mokhes ' who
himself stood at his custom-house ; of the class to whom,
as we are told, repentance offered special difficulties. And,
of all such officials, those who had to take toll from ships
were perhaps the worst, if we are to judge by the pro
verb : ' Woe to the ship which sails without having paid
the dues.'
But now quite another day had dawned for Matthew.
The Prophet of Nazareth was not like those other great
Rabbis, or their self-righteous imitators. There was not
between Him and one like Matthew, the great, almost
impassable gap of repentance. He had seen and heard
Him in the Synagogue — and who that had heard His
Words or witnessed His power could ever forget or lose
the impression ? The people, the rulers, even the evil
spirits, had owned His authority. But in the Synagogue
Jesus was still the Great One, far away from him ; and he,
Levi-Matthew, the ' little Mokhes ' of Capernaum, to whom,
as the Rabbis told him, repentance was next to impossible.
But out there, in the open, by the seashore, it was other
wise. All unobserved by others, he observed all, and
could yield himself without reserve to the impression.

The Call of Matthew 135
Perhaps he may have witnessed the call of the first
Apostles ; he certainly must have known the fishermen
and shipowners of Capernaum. And now it appeared as
if Jesus had been brought still nearer to Matthew. For
the great ones of Israel, ' the Scribes of the Pharisees,'
and their pietist followers, had combined against Him,
and would exclude Him, not on account of sin, but on
account of the sinners. And so, we take it, long before
that eventful day which for ever decided his life, Matthew
had, in heart, become the disciple of Jesus. Only he dared
not hope for personal recognition — far less for call to
discipleship. But when it came, and Jesus fixed on him
that look of love which searched the inmost deep of the
soul, it needed not a moment's thought or consideration.
When He spake it, 'Follow Me,' the past seemed all
swallowed up. He said not a word ; but he rose up, left
the custom-house, and followed Him. That was a gain
that day, not of Matthew alone, but of all the poor and
needy in Israel — nay, of all sinners from among men,
to whom the door of heaven was opened.
It could not have been long after this that the
memorable gathering took place in the house of Matthew,
which gave occasion to that cavil of the Pharisaic Scribes,
which served further to bring out the meaning of Levi's call.
It was natural that all the publicans around should, after
the call of Matthew, have come to his house to meet Jesus.
And it was characteristic that Jesus should improve such
opportunity. When we read of ' sinners ' as in company
with these publicans, it is not necessary to think of gross
or open offenders, though such may have been included.
For we know what such a term may have included in the
Pharisaic vocabulary. Equally characteristic was it, that
the Rabbinists should have addressed their objection as to
fellowship with such, not to the Master, but to the dis
ciples. Had they been able to lodge this cavil in their
minds, it would have fatally shaken the confidence of the
disciples in the Master.
From their own standpoint and contention, in their
own form of speech, He answered the Pharisees. And

136 Jesus the Messiah
He not only silenced their gainsaying, but further opened
up the meaning of His acting — nay, His very purpose
and Mission. 'No need have they who are strong and
« The latter ln health " of a physician, but they who are
tu st. Luke il].' It was the very principle of Pharisaism
which He thus set forth, alike as regarded their
self-exclusion from Him and His consorting with the
diseased. And, as the more Hebraic St. Matthew adds,
applying the very Rabbinic formula, so often used when
superficial speciousness of knowledge is directed to further
thought and information : ' Go and learn ! ' Learn what ?
What their own Scriptures meant ; learn that fundamental
principle of the spiritual meaning of the Law as explana
tory of its mere letter, ' I will have mercy, and not sacrifice.'
There was yet another and higher aspect of it, ex
plaining and applying alike this saying and the whole
Old Testament, and thus His Own Mission : ' For I am
not come to call righteous men, but sinners.' The intro
duction of the words ' to repentance ' in some manuscripts
of St. Matthew and St. Mark shows how early the full
meaning of Christ's words was misinterpreted. For Christ
called sinners to better and higher than repentance,' even
to Himself and His Kingdom.
The call of St. Matthew was no doubt speedily followed
by the calling of the other Apostles.b It ap-
x.lVf'*' pears that only the calling of those to the Apo-
i3li9^kil1' stolate is related, which in some sense is typical,
st. Luke vi. viz. that of Peter and Andrew, of James and
12-19 . .
John, of Philip and Bartholomew (or Bar Tela-
myon, or Temalyon, generally supposed the same as
Nathanael), and of Matthew the publican. Yet, secondly,
there is something which attaches to each of the others.
Thomas, who is called Didymus (which means ' twin '),
is closely connected with Matthew, both in St. Luke's
Gospel and in that of St. Matthew himself. James is ex
's st. John pressly named as the son of Alphseus or Clopas.0 1
xix.25 rpjjig we know to have been also the name of
' Thus he would be the same as ' James the Less,' or rather ' the
Little,' a son of Mary, the sister-in-law of the Virgin-Mcther.

The Call of the Twelve Apostles 137
Matthew-Levi's father. But, as the name was a common
one, no inference can be drawn from it, and it does not
seem likely that the father of Matthew was also that of
James, Judas, and Simon, for these three seem to have
been brothers. Judas is designated by St. Matthew as
Lebbseus, from the Hebrew for ' a heart,' and is also named, .
both by him and by St. Mark, Thaddseus— a term which
we would derive from the Jewish name for 'praise' In
that case both Lebbasus and Thaddseus would point to
the heartiness and the thanksgiving of the Apostle, and
hence to his character. St. Luke simply designates him
Judas of James, which means that he was the brother
¦ st Luke Gess Pr°kably, the son) of James. a Thus his
¦"• 15 ; real name would have been Judas Lebbseus, and
st. John his surname Thaddasus. Closely connected with
these two we have, in all the Gospels, Simon,
surnamed Zelotes or Canansean (not Canaanite), both terms
indicating his original connection with the Galilean Zealot
party, the ' Zealots for the Law.' His position in the
Apostolic Catalogue, and the testimony of Hegesippus,
seem to point him out as the son of Clopas, and brother of
James, and of Judas Lebbasus. These three were, in a
sense, cousins of Christ, since, according to Hegesippus,
Clopas was the brother of Joseph, while the sons of
Zebedee were real cousins, their mother Salome being a
sister of the Virgin. Lastly, we have Judas Iscariot, or
Ish Kerioth, ' a man of Kerioth,' a town in Judah.b
„ Josll_ XT_ Thus the betrayer alone would be of Judsean
26 origin, the others all of Galilean ; and this may
throw light on not a little in his after-history.

138 Jesus the Messiah

CHAPTER XXVIL
THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT.
(St. Matt. v.-vii.)
It was probably on one of those mountain-ranges which
stretch to the north of Capernaum, that Jesus had spent
the night of lonely prayer which preceded the designation
of the twelve to the Apostolate. As the morning broke,
He called up those who had learned to follow Him, and
from among them chose the twelve, who were to be His
• st. Luke Ambassadors and Representatives.3, But already
"• 13 the eager multitude from all parts had come to
the broad level plateau beneath, to bring to Him their need
of soul or body. To them He now descended with words
of comfort and power of healing. As they pressed around
Him for that touch which brought virtue of healing to all,
He retired again to the mountain height, and through the
clear air of the spring day spake what has ever since been
known as the ' Sermon on the Mount,' from the place
where He sat, or as that 'in the plain' (St. Luke vi. 17),
from the place where He had first met the multitude, and
which so many must have continued to occupy while lie
taught. The first and most obvious, perhaps also most super
ficial thought, is that which brings this teaching of Christ
into comparison with the best of the wisdom and piety of
the Jewish sages, as preserved in Rabbinic writings. Its
essential difference, or rather contrariety, in spirit and
substance, not only when viewed as a whole, but in almost
each of its individual parts, will be briefly shown in the
sequel. Turn from a reading of the ' Sermon on the Mount ' to
the wisdom of the Jewish Fathers in their Talmud. It
matters little what part be chosen for the purpose. Here,
also, the reader is at disadvantage, since his instructors
present to him too frequently broken sentences, torn from

?»*

n.

I'V^Vri

; v li.il

THE SEKMON ON THE MOUNT.

The Sermon on the Mount 139
their connection, words often mistranslated or misapplied ;
at best, only isolated sentences. There is here wit and
logic, quickness and readiness, earnestness and zeal, but
by the side of it profanity, uncleanness, superstition, and
folly. Taken as a whole, it is not only utterly unspiritual,
but anti-spiritual. Not that the Talmud is worse than
might be expected of such writings in such times and
circumstances, perhaps in many respects much better —
always bearing in mind the particular standpoint of narrow
nationalism, without which Talmudism itself could not
have existed, and which therefore is not an accretion but
an essential part of it. But, taken not in abrupt sentences
and quotations, but- as a whole, it is so utterly and im
measurably unlike the New Testament, that it is not easy
to determine which is greater, the ignorance or the pre
sumption of those who put them side by side. And to the
reader of such disjointed Rabbinic quotations there is this
further source of misunderstanding, that the form and
sound of words is so often the same as that of the sayings
of Jesus, however different their spirit. For, necessarily,
the wine — be it new or old — made in Judasa comes to us
in Palestinian vessels. But the ideas underlying terms
equally employed by Jesus and the teachers bf Israel are,
in everything that concerns the relation of souls to God, so
absolutely different as not to bear comparison. Whence
otherwise the enmity and opposition to Jesus from the first,
and not only after His Divine claim had been pronounced ?
We can only here attempt a general outline of the
'Sermon on the Mount.' Its great subject is neither
righteousness, nor yet the New Law (if such designation
be proper in regard to what in no real sense is a Law),
but the Kingdom of God. Notably, the Sermon on the
Mount contains not any detailed or systematic doctrinal,
nor any ritual teaching, nor yet does it prescribe the form
of any outward observances.
As from this point of view the Sermon on the Mount
differs from all contemporary Jewish teaching, so also
is it impossible to compare it with any other system of
morality. The difference here is one not of degree, nor

140 Jesus the Messiah
even of kind, but of standpoint. It is indeed true that
the Words of Jesus, properly understood, mark the utmost
limit of all possible moral conception. But every moral
system is a road by which, through self-denial, discipline,
and effort, men seek to reach the goal. Christ begins
with this goal, and places His disciples at once in the
position to which all other teachers point as the end.
They work up to the goal of becoming the ' children of
the Kingdom ; ' He makes men such, freely, and of His
grace : and this is the Kingdom. Accordingly, in the real
sense, there is neither new law nor moral system here, but
entrance into a new life : ' Be ye therefore perfect, as your
Father Which is in heaven is perfect.'
But if the Sermon on the Mount contains not a new,
nor, indeed, any system of morality, and addresses itself
to a new condition of things, it follows that the promises
attaching, for example, to the so-called ' Beatitudes ' must not
be regarded as the reward of the spiritual state with which
they are respectively connected, nor yet as their result.
It is not because a man is poor in spirit that his is the
Kingdom of Heaven, in the sense that the one state will
grow into the other, or be its result ; still less is the one
the reward of the other. The connecting link between
the ' state ' and the promise is in each case Christ Himself:
because He stands between our present and our future,
and ' has opened the Kingdom of Heaven to all believers.'
Thus the promise represents the gift of grace by Christ in
the new Kingdom, as adapted to each case.
It is Christ, then, as the King, Who is here flinging
open the gates of His Kingdom. To study it more closely :
in the three chapters, under which the Sermon on the
.. Mount is grouped in the First Gospel," the King
dom of God is presented successively, progressively,
and extensively. Let us trace this with the help of the text
itself. In the first part of the Sermon on the Mount* the
Kingdom of God is delineated generally, first
positively, and then negatively, marking espe
cially how its righteousness goes deeper than the mere

» St. Matt. v.
13-16

The Sermon on the Mount 141
letter of even the Old Testament Law. It opens with ten
Beatitudes, which are the New Testament counterpart to
the Ten Commandments. These present to us, not the
observance of the Law written on stone, but the realisation
of that Law which, by the Spirit, is written on the fleshy
tables of the heart."
3-12. These Ten Commandments in the Old Cove
nant were preceded by a Prologue.6 The ten
Beatitudes have, characteristically, not a Prologue,
but an Epilogue,0 which corresponds to the Old
Testament Prologue. This closes the first section, of which
the object was to present the Kingdom of God in its
characteristic features. But here it was necessary, in
order to mark the real continuity of the New Testament
with the Old, to show the relation of the one to the other.
And this is the object of verses 17 to 20, the last-men
tioned verse forming at the same time a grand climax and
transition to the criticism of the Old Testament-Law in its
merely literal application, such as the Scribes and Phari-
a w. 21 to sees made.d In this part of the ' Sermon on the
ena of ch. ,. ]\/[0lmt ' the careful reader will mark an analogy
to Exod. xxi. and xxii.
This closes the first part of the ' Sermon on the Mount.'
The second part is contained in St. Matt. vi. In this the
criticism of the Law is carried deeper. The question now
is not as concerns the Law in its literality, but as to what
constituted more than a mere observance of the outward
commandments : piety, spirituality, sanctity. Three points
here stand out : alms, prayer, and fasting — or, to put the
latter more generally, the relation of the physical to the
spiritual. These three are successively presented, nega-
'Aims vi. tively and positively.6 But even so, this would
1-4 ; Pmyer, have been but the external aspect of them. The
Ft'uting, ie- Kingdom of God carries all back to the grand
underlying ideas. What were this or that mode
of giving alms, unless the right idea be apprehended, of
that which constitutes riches, and where they should be
sought ? This is indicated in verses 19 to 21. Again, as to
prayer : what matters it if we avoid the externalism of the

142 Jesus the Messiah
Pharisees, or even catch the right form as set forth in the
' Lord's Prayer,' unless we realise what underlies prayer ?
It is to lay our inner man wholly open to the light of God
in genuine, earnest simplicity, to be quite shone through
• w.22, 23 by Him.a It is, moreover, absolute and undi-
»w. 22-24 y^ed self-dedication to God.b And in this lies
its connection, alike with the spirit that prompts almsgiving,
and with that which prompts real fasting. That which
underlies all such fasting is a right view of the relation in
which the body with its wants stands to God — the temporal
c w. 25 to t° *ne spiritual.0 It is the spirit of prayer which
endoioh.vi. must rule alike alms and fasting, and pervade
them ; the self-dedication to God, the seeking first after
the Kingdom of God and His Righteousness, that man,
and self, and life may be baptized in it. Such are the
real alms, the real prayers, the real fasts of the Kingdom
of God. If we have rightly apprehended the meaning of the
first two parts of the ' Sermon on the Mount,' we cannot
be at a loss to understand its third part, as set forth in the
seventh chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel. Briefly, it is
this, as addressed to His contemporaries, nay, with wider
application to the men of all times : First, the Kingdom
of God cannot be circumscribed, as you would do it.d
a ^j 15 Secondly, it cannot be extended, as you would do
»ver. 6 it, by external means,6 but cometh to us from
God,f and is entered by personal determination
and separation.8 Thirdly, it is not preached, as too often
e w. 13, 14 is attempted, when thoughts of it are merely of
"w. 15,16 ^g external.h Lastly, it is not manifested in
life in the manner too common among religionists, but is
> 17 20 veiy r6a,l> an(l trlie, and good in its effects.1 And
this Kingdom, as received by each of us, is like
a solid house on a solid foundation, which nothing from
without can shake or destroy .k
The contrast just set forth between the
Kingdom as presented by the Christ and Jewish contem
porary teaching is the more striking, that it was expressed
in a form, and clothed in words with which all His hearers

The Sermon on the Mount 143
were familiar. It is this which has misled so many in
their quotations of Rabbinic parallels to the ' Sermon
on the Mount.' They perceive outward similarity, and
they straightway set it down to identity of spirit, not
understanding that often those things are most unlike
in the spirit of them, which are most like in their form.
Many of these Rabbinic quotations are, however, entirely
inapt, the similarity lying in an expression or turn of
words. Occasionally, the misleading error goes even fur
ther, and that is quoted in illustration of Jesus' saying
which, either by itself or in the context, implies quite the
opposite. A few specimens will sufficiently illustrate our
meaning. To begin with the first Beatitude, to the poor in spirit,
since theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven. This early Jewish
saying is its very counterpart, marking not the optimism,
but the pessimism of life : '.Ever be more and more lowly
in spirit, since the expectancy of man is to become the
food of worms.' Another contrast to Christ's promise of
grace to the ' poor in spirit ' is presented by the saying of
the great Hillel : ' My humility is my greatness, and my
greatness my humility,' which, be it observed, is elicited
by a Rabbinic accommodation of Ps. cxiii. 5,' 6 : ' Who is
exalted to sit, who humbleth himself to behold.' It is
the omission on the part of modern writers of this ex
planatory addition, which has given the saying of Hillel
even the faintest likeness to the first Beatitude.
But even so, what of the promise of ' the Kingdom of
Heaven ' ? What is the meaning which Rabbinism at
taches to that phrase, and would it have entered the mind
of a Rabbi to promise what he understood as the Kingdom
to all men, Gentiles as well as Jews, who were poor in
spirit ? We recall here the fate of the Gentiles in Mes
sianic days, and, to prevent misstatements, summarise the
opening pages of the Talmudic tractate on Idolatry. At
the beginning of the coming era of the Kingdom, God is
represented as opening the Law, and inviting all who
had busied themselves with it to come for their reward.
On this, nation by nation appears, but is in turn repelled.

144 Jesus the Messiah
Then all the Gentile nations urge that the Law had not
been offered to them, which is proved to be a vain con
tention, since God had actually offered it to them, but only
Israel had accepted it. On this#the nations reply by a
peculiar Rabbinic explanation of Exod. xix. 17, according
to which God is actually represented as having lifted
Mount Sinai like a cask, and threatened to put it over
Israel unless they accepted the Law. Israel's obedience,
therefore, was not willing, but enforced. On this the
Almighty proposes to judge the Gentiles by the Noachic
commandments, although it is added that, even had they
observed them, these would have carried no reward. And,
although it is a principle that even a heathen if he studied
the Law was to be esteemed like the High-Priest, yet it
is argued, with the most perverse logic, that the reward
of heathens who observed the Law must be less than that
of those who did so because the Law was given them,
since the former acted from impulse, and not from obe
dience !
Other portions of the context bring out even more
strongly the difference between the largeness of Christ's
World-Kingdom, and the narrowness of Judaism.
It is the same self-righteousness and carnalness of view
which underlies the other Rabbinic parallels to the Beati
tudes, pointing to contrast rather than likeness. Thus
the Rabbinic blessedness of mourning consists in this,
that much misery here makes up for punishment here
after. We scarcely wonder that no Rabbinic parallel can
be found to the third Beatitude, unless we recall the con
trast which assigns in Messianic days the possession of
earth to Israel as a nation. Nor could we expect any
parallel to the fourth Beatitude, to those who hunger and
thirst after righteousness. Rabbinism would have quite
a different idea of ' righteousness,' considered as ' good
works,' and chiefly as almsgiving. To such the most
special reward is promised. Similarly, Rabbinism speaks
of the perfectly righteous and the perfectly unrighteous,
or else of the righteous and unrighteous (according as the
good or the evil might weigh heaviest in the scale) ; and,

Kingdom of Christ and Rabbinic Teaching 145
besides these, of a kind of middle state. But such a con
ception as that of ' hunger ' and ' thirst ' after righteous
ness would have no place in the system. And, that no
doubt may obtain, this sentence may be quoted : ' He
that says, I give this " Sela " as alms, in order that my
sons may live, and that I may merit the world to come,
behold, this is the perfectly righteous.' Along with such
assertions of work-righteousness we have this principle
often repeated, that all such merit attaches only to Israel,
while the good works and mercy of the Gentiles are
actually reckoned to them as sin, though it is only fair
to add that one voice is raised in contradiction of such
teaching. It seems almost needless to prosecute this subject ; yet
it may be well to remark that the same self-righteousness
attaches to the quality of mercy, so highly prized among
the Jews, and which is supposed not only to bring reward,
but to atone for sins. With regard to purity of heart,
there is, indeed, a discussion between the school of Sham
mai and that of Hillel — the former teaching that guilty
thoughts constitute sin, while the latter expressly confines-
it to guilty deeds. The Beatitude attaching to peace
making has many analogies in Rabbinism ; but the latter
would never have connected the designation of ' children
of God' with any but Israel. A similar remark applies
to the use of the expression ' Kingdom of Heaven ' in the
next Beatitude.
One by one, as we place the sayings of the Rabbis by
the side of those of Jesus in this Sermon on the Mount, we
mark the same essential contrariety of spirit, whether as
regards righteousness, sin, repentance, faith, the Kingdom,
alms, prayer, or fasting. Only two points may be specially
selected, because they are so frequently brought forward by
writers as proof that the sayings of Jesus did not rise
above those of the chief Talmudic authorities. The first
• st. Matt. or" these refers to the well-known words of our
?"•'u Lord:a 'Therefore all things whatsoever ye
would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them :
for this is the law and the prophets.' This is compared L

146 Jesus the Messiah
with the following Rabbinic parallel, in which the gentle
ness of Hillel is contrasted with the opposite disposition
of Shammai. The latter is said to have harshly repelled
:an intending proselyte, who wished to be taught the whole
Law while standing on one foot, while Hillel received
him with this saying : ' What is hateful to thee, do not
to another. This is the whole Law, all else is only its ex
planation.' It will be noticed that the words in which
the Law is thus summed up are really only a quotation
from Tob. iv. 15, although their presentation as the sub
stance of the Law is, of course, original. But apart from
this, there is a vast difference between this negative injunc
tion and the positive direction to do unto others as we would
have them do unto us. The one does not rise above the
standpoint of the Law, while the Christian saying embodies
the nearest approach to absolute love of which human nature
is capable, making that the test of our conduct to others
which we ourselves desire to possess. And, be it observed,
the Lord does not put self-love as the principle of our con
duct, but only as its ready test. Besides, the further
•explanation in St. Luke vi. 38 should here be kept in
view, as also the explanatory additions in St. Matt. v.
42-4-8. The second instance is the supposed similarity between
»st. Matt petitions in the Lord's Prayer a and Rabbinic
Tl-9-13 prayers. Here we may remark at the outset,
that both the spirit and the manner of prayer are presented
by the Rabbis so externally, and with such details, as to
make it quite different from prayer as our Lord taught His
disciples. That the warning against prayers at the corner
of streets was taken from life appears from the well-
known anecdote concerning one Rabbi Jannai, who was
observed saying his prayers in the public streets of
Sepphoris, and then advancing four cubits to make the so-
called supplementary prayer. Again, a perusal of some
of the recorded prayers of the Rabbis will show how
vastly different many of them were from the petitions
which our Lord taught.
Further details would lead beyond our present scope.

Healing of the Centurion's Servant \\f
It must suffice to indicate that such sayings as St. Matt.
v. 6, 15, 17, 25, 29, 31, 46, 47 ; vi. 8, 12, 18, 22, 24, 32 ;
vii. 8, 9, 10, 15, 17-19, 22, 23, have no parallel, in any
real sense, in Jewish writings, whose teaching, indeed,
often embodies opposite ideas.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE HEALING OF THE CENTURION'S SERVANT.
(St. Matt. viii. 1, 5-15 ; St. Mark iii. 20, 21 ; St. Luke vii. 1-10.)
From the Mount of Beatitudes, it was again to His tem-
• st. Mark porary home at Capernaum that Jesus retired."
Mi. 19-21 Yet not either to solitude or to rest. For of
that multitude which had hung entranced on His Words
many followed Him, and there was now such constant
pressure around Him, that in the zeal of their attendance
upon the wants and demands of those who hungered after
the Bread of Life alike Master and disciples found not
leisure so much as for the necessary sustenance of the
body. The circumstances, the incessant work, and the all-
consuming zeal led to the apprehension on the part of ' His
friends ' that the balance of judgment might be over
weighted, and high reason brought into bondage to the
poverty of the earthly frame. On tidings reaching them,
with perhaps Orientally exaggerating details, they hastened
out of their house in a neighbouring street to take posses
sion of Him, as if He had needed their charge. The idea
that He was ' beside Himself ' afforded the only explana
tion of what otherwise would have been to them well-nigh
inexplicable. To the Eastern mind especially this want of
self-possession, the being ' beside ' oneself, would point to
possession by another — God or Devil. It was on the
ground of such supposition that the charge was so con
stantly raised by the Scribes, and unthinkingly taken up
by the people, that Jesus was mad, and had a devil : not
demoniacal possession, be it marked, but possession by the
L 2

148 Jesus the Messiah
Devil, in the absence of self-possessedness. And hence
our Lord characterised this charge as really blasphemy
against the Holy Ghost. And this also explains how,
while unable to deny the reality of His Works, they could
still resist their evidential force.
This incident could have caused but brief interruption
to His Work. Presently there came the summons of the
heathen Centurion and the healing of his servant, which
both St. Matthew and St. Luke record.
The Centurion is a real historical personage. He was
captain of the troop quartered in Capernaum, and in the
service of Herod Antipas. We know that such troops
were chiefly recruited from Samaritans and Gentiles of
Cassarea. Nor is there the slightest evidence that this
Centurion was a ' proselyte of righteousness.' The accounts
both in St. Matthew and in St. Luke are incompatible with
this idea. A ' proselyte of righteousness ' could have had no
reason for not approaching Christ directly, nor would he
have spoken of himself as ' unfit ' that Christ should come
under his roof. But such language quite accorded with
Jewish notions of a Gentile, since the houses of Gentiles
were considered as defiled, and as defiling those who
entered them. On the other hand, the ' proselytes of
righteousness ' were in all respects equal to Jews, so that
the words of Christ concerning Jews and Gentiles, as
reported by St. Matthew, would not have been applicable
to them. The Centurion was simply one who had learned
to love Israel and to reverence Israel's God ; one who had
built that Synagogue, of which, strangely enough, now
after eighteen centuries the remains in their rich and
elaborate carvings of cornices and entablatures, of capitals
and niches, show with what liberal hand he had dealt his
votive offerings.
As the houses of Gentiles were ' unclean,' entrance
into them, and still more familiar fellowship, would ' de
file.' The Centurion must have known this ; and the
higher he placed Jesus on the pinnacle of Judaism, the
more natural was it for him to communicate with Christ
through the elders of the Jews, and not to expect the

Healing of the Centurion's Servant 149
personal Presence of the Master, even if the application
to Him were attended with success.
Closely considered, whatever verbal differences, there
is not any real discrepancy between the Judasan presenta
tion of the event in St. Matthew and the fuller Gentile
account of it by St. Luke. From both narratives we are
led to infer that the house of the Centurion was not in
Capernaum itself, but in its immediate neighbourhood,
probably on the road to Tiberias.
And in their leading features the two accounts entirely
agree. There is earnest supplication for his sick, seemingly
dying servant. Again, the Centurion in the fullest sense
believes in the power of Jesus to heal, in the same manner
as he knows his own commands as an officer would be im
plicitly obeyed. But in his self-acknowledged ' unfitness '
lay the real ' fitness ' of this good soldier for membership
with the true Israel ; and in his deep-felt ' unworthiness '
the real ' worthiness ' for ' the Kingdom ' and its blessings.
Here was one who was in the state described in the first
clauses of the ' Beatitudes,' and to whom came the pro
mise of the second clauses ; because Christ is the connect
ing link between the two, and because He consciously wa3
such to the Centurion.
And so we mark that participation in the blessedness
of the Kingdom is not connected with any outward rela
tionship towards it, nor belongs to our inward conscious
ness in regard to it ; but is granted by the King to that
faith which in deepest simplicity realises, and holds fast
by Him. But for the fuller understanding of the words of
Christ, the Jewish modes of thought, which He used in
illustration, require to be briefly explained. It was a
common belief that in the day of the Messiah redeemed
Israel would be gathered to a great feast, together with
the patriarchs and heroes of the Jewish faith. One thing,
however, was clear : Gentiles could have no part in that
feast. On this point, then, the words of Jesus in re
ference to the believing Centurion formed the most marked
contrast to Jewish teaching.

150 Jesus the Messiah
In another respect also we mark similar contrariety.
When our Lord consigned the unbelieving to ' outer dark
ness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth,' He
once more used Jewish language, only with opposite appli
cation of it. Gehinnom was a place of darkness, to which,
in the day of the Lord,a the Gentiles would be
AmosT'20 consigned. On the other hand, the merit of
circumcision would in the day of the Messiah deliver
Jewish sinners from Gehinnom. It seems a moot question,
» st. Matt whether the expression ' outer darkness ' b may
viu. 12 not have been intended to designate — besides
the darkness outside the lighted house of the Father, and
even beyond the darkness of Gehinnom — a place of hope
less, endless night. Associated with it is ' the weeping
and the gnashing of teeth.' In Rabbinic thought the
former was connected with sorrow, the latter almost always
with anger — not, as generally supposed, with anguish.
To complete our apprehension of the contrast between
the views of the Jews and the teaching of Jesus, we must
bear in mind that, as the Gentiles could not possibly
share in the feast of the Messiah, so Israel had claim and
title to it. To use Rabbinic terms, the former were
' children of Gehinnom,' but Israel ' children of the King-
• st Matt dom,' ° or, in strictly Rabbinic language, ' royal
viu. 12 children,' ' children of God,' ' of heaven,' ' chil
dren of the upper chamber,' and ' of the world to come.'
Never, surely, could the Judaism of His hearers have
received more rude shock than by this inversion of all
their cherished beliefs. There was a feast of Messianic
fellowship, a recognition on the part of the King of all
His faithful subjects, a festive gathering with the fathers
of the faith. But this fellowship was not of outward, but
of spiritual kinship. There were ' children of the King
dom,' and there was an * outer darkness ' with its anguish
and despair. But this childship was of the Kingdom,
such as He had opened it to all believers ; and that outer
darkness theirs, who had only outward claims to present.
And so this history of the believing Centurion is at the
same time an application of the ' Sermon on the Mount,'

THE RAISINS OF THE WIDOW'S SON.

The Raising of the Young Man of Nain 151
and a further carrying out of its teaching. Negatively,
it differentiated the Kingdom from Israel ; while, posi
tively, it placed the hope of Israel, and fellowship with
its promises, within reach of all faith, whether of Jew or
Gentile.

CHAPTER XXIX.
THE RAISING OF THE YOUNG MAN OF NAIN.
(St. Luke vii. 11-17.)
It matters little whether it was the very ' day after ' the
healing of the Centurion's servant, or ' shortly afterwards,'
that Jesus left Capernaum for Nain. Probably it was the
morrow of that miracle, and the fact that ' much people,'
or rather ' a great multitude,' followed Him seems con
firmatory of it. The way was long — as we reckon,- more
than twenty-five miles ; but even if it was all taken on
foot, there could be no difficulty in reaching Nain ere the
evening, when so often funerals took place. Various
roads lead to and from Nain. About ten minutes' walk to
the east of Nain lies the now unfenced burying-ground,
whither on that spring afternoon they were carrying the
widow's son.
Putting aside later superstitions, so little has changed
in the Jewish rites and observances about the dead, that
from Talmudic and even earlier sources we can form a
vivid conception of what had taken place in Nain. The
watchful anxiety,, the vain use of such means as were
known or within reach of the widow would be com
mon features in any such picture. But here we have
besides the Jewish thoughts of death and after death ;
knowledge just sufficient to make afraid, but not to give
firm consolation, which make even the most pious Rabbi
uncertain of his future ; and then the desolate thoughts
connected in the Jewish mind with childlessness. We
can realise how Jewish ingenuity and wisdom would re
sort to remedies real or magical; how the neighbours
would come in with reverent step, feeling as if the very

152 Jesus the Messiah
Shekhinah were, unseen, at the head of the pallet in that
humble home ; and how they would resort to the prayers
of those who were deemed pious in Nain.
But all was in vain. And now the well-known blast
of the horn has carried tidings that once more the Angel
of Death has done his behest. In passionate grief the
mother has rent her upper garment. The last sad offices
have been rendered to the dead. The body has been laid
on the ground ; hair and nails have been cut, and the body
washed, anointed, and wrapped in the best the widow
could procure.
The mother is left moaning, lamenting. She would
sit on the floor, neither eat meat nor drink wine. What
scanty meal she would take must be without prayer, in the
house of a neighbour, or in another room, or at least with
her back to the dead. Pious friends would render
neighbourly offices, or busy themselves about the near
funeral. If it was deemed duty for the poorest Jew, on
the death of his wife, to provide at least two flutes and
one mourning woman, we may feel sure that the widowed
mother had not neglected what were regarded as the last
tokens of affection. In all likelihood the custom obtained
even then, though in modified form, to have funeral
orations at the grave. For, if charity even provided for
an unknown wayfarer the simplest funeral, mourning-
women would be hired to chaunt in weird strains the
lament : ' Alas, the lion ! alas, the hero ! ' or similar words,
while great Rabbis were wont to bespeak for themselves
' a warm funeral oration.'
We can follow in spirit the mournful procession. As
it issued chairs and couches were reversed and laid low.
Outside, the funeral orator, if such were employed, pre
ceded the bier, proclaiming the good deeds of the dead.
Immediately before the dead came the women, this being
peculiar to Galilee, the Midrash giving this reason of it,
that woman had introduced death into the world. The
body was not, as afterwards in preference, carried in an
ordinary coffin of wood, if possible cedarwood, but laid on
a bier, or in an open coffin. In former times a distinc-

The Raising of the Young Man of Nain 153
tion had been made in these biers between rich and poor.
The former were carried, as it were, in state — while the
poor were conveyed in a receptacle made of wickerwork,
having sometimes at the foot what was termed ' a horn,'
to which the body was made fast. But this distinction
between rich and poor was abolished by Rabbinic or
dinance, and both alike, if carried on a bier, were laid in
that made of wickerwork. Commonly, though not in
later practice, the face of the dead body was uncovered.
The body lay with its face turned up, and its hands
folded on the breast. We may add that, when a person
had died unmarried or childless, it was customary to
put into the coffin something distinctive of them, such as
pen and ink, or a key. Over the coffins of bride or
bridegroom a baldachino was carried. Sometimes the
coffin was garlanded with myrtle. In exceptional cases we
read of the use of incense, and even of a kind of libation.
We cannot, then, be mistaken in supposing that the
body of the widow's son was laid on the ' bed,' or in the
' willow basket,' already described. Nor can we doubt
that the ends or handles were borne by friends and
neighbours, different parties of bearers, all of them un
shod, at frequent intervals relieving each other, so that as
many as possible might share in the good work. During
these pauses there was loud lamentation ; but this custom
was not observed in the burial of women. Behind the
bier walked the relatives, friends, and then the sympa
thising ' multitude.' For it was deemed like mocking
one's Creator not to follow the dead to his last resting-
place, and to all such want of reverence Prov. xvii. 5 was
applied. If one were absolutely prevented from joining
the procession, although for its sake all work, even study,
should be interrupted, reverence should at least be shown
by rising up before the dead. And so they would go on
to what the Hebrews beautifully designated as the ' house
of assembly,' or ' meeting,' the ' hostelry,' the ' place of
rest,' or ' of freedom,' the ' field of weepers,' the ' house of
eternity,' or ' of life.'
Up from the city close by came this ' great multitude '

1 54 Jesus the Messiah
that followed the dead, with lamentations, wild chaunts of
mourning women, accompanied by flutes and the melan
choly tinkle of cymbals, perhaps by trumpets, amidst
expressions of general sympathy. Along the road from
Endor streamed the great multitude which followed the
' Prince of Life.' Here they met : Life and Death. The
connecting link between them was the deep sorrow of the
widowed mother. He recognised her as she went before
the bier, leading him to the grave whom she had brought
into life. She was still weeping ; even after He had
hastened a step or two in advance of His followers, quite
close to her, she did not heed Him and was still weeping.
But, ' beholding her,' the Lord ' had compassion on her.'
We remember, by way of contrast, the common formula
used at funerals in Palestine, ' Weep with them, all ye
who are bitter of heart ! ' It was not so that Jesus spoke
to those around, nor to her, but characteristically : ' Be
not weeping.' And what He said, that He wrought.
He touched the bier, perhaps the very wicker-basket in
which the dead youth lay. He dreaded not the greatest
of all defilements — that of contact with the dead, which
Rabbinism, in its elaboration of the letter of the Law, had
surrounded with endless terrors. His was other separa
tion than of the Pharisees : not that of submission to
ordinances, but of conquest of what made them neces
sary. And as He touched the bier, they who bore it stood
still. The awe of the coming wonder — as it were, the
shadow of the opening gates of life — had fallen on them.
One word of command, ' and he that was dead sat up, and
began to speak.' Not of that world of which he had had
brief glimpse. For, as one who suddenly passes from
dream-vision to waking, in the abruptness of the transition
loses what he has seen, so he, who from that dazzling
brightness was hurried back to the dim light to which his
vision had been accustomed.
And still was Jesus the link between the mother and
the son, who had again found each other. And so, in the
truest sense, ' He gave him to his mother.'

The Woman which was a Sinner 155
But on those who saw this miracle at Nain fell the
fear of the Divine Presence, and over their souls swept the
hymn of Divine praise : fear, because a great Prophet was
risen up among them; praise, because God had visited
His people.

CHAPTER XXX.
THE WOMAN WHICH WAS A SINNER.
(St. Luke -vii. 36-50.)
The next recorded event in this Galilean journey of the
Christ can scarcely have occurred in the quiet little town
of Nain. And yet it must have followed almost immedi
ately upon it.
The impression left upon us by St. Matt. xi. 20-30
(which follows on the account of the Baptist's embassy) is
that Jesus was on a journey, and it may well be that those
words of encouragement and invitation, spoken to the
» st. Matt burdened and wearily labouring,8- formed part,
xi. 28-30 perhaps the substance, of His preaching on that
journey. Truly these were ' good tidings,' and not only
to those borne down by weight of conscious sinfulness or
deep sorrow. ' Good news,' also, to them who would fain
have ' learned ' according to their capacity, but whose
teachers had weighted ' the yoke of the Kingdom ' to a
heavy burden, and made the Will of God to them labour,
weary and unaccomplishable.
Another point requires notice. It is how, in the un
folding of His Mission to man, the Christ progressively
placed Himself in antagonism to the Jewish religious
thought of His time, from out of which He had historically
sprung. We find this in the whole spirit and bearing of
what He did and said — in the house at Capernaum, in the
Synagogues, with the Gentile Centurion, at the gate of
Nain, and especially here, in the history of the much-
forgiven woman who had much sinned. A Jewish Rabbi
could not have so acted and spoken ; he would not even

156 Jesus the Messiah
have understood Jesus ; nay, a Rabbi, however gentle and
pitiful, would in word and deed have taken precisely the
opposite direction from that of the Christ.
The history itself seems but a fragment. We must
try to learn from its structure, where and how it was
broken off. We understand the delicacy that left her
unnamed, the record of whose ' much forgiveness ' and
great love had to be joined to that of her much sin. And
we mark in contrast the cravings of morbid curiosity, or
for saint-worship, which have associated her history with
the name of Mary Magdalene. Another mistake is the
attempt of certain critics to identify this history with the
» st Matt much later anointing of Christ at Bethany." Yet
xxvi. 6 &a., the two narratives have really nothing in com-
and parallels ,, , . . , , , cr »
mon, save that m each case there was a ' bimon
— perhaps the commonest of Jewish names ; a woman who
anointed; and that Christ, and those who were present,
spoke and acted in accordance with other passages in the
Gospel-history. The invitation of Simon the Pharisee to his table
does not necessarily indicate that he had been impressed
by the teaching of Jesus. If Jesus had taught in the
' city,' and, as always, irresistibly drawn to Him the multi
tude, it would be only in accordance with the manners of
the time if the leading Pharisee invited the distinguished
' Teacher ' to his table. As such he undoubtedly treated
»st Luke Him.b The question in Simon's mind was,
vii. 40 whether He was more than ' Teacher ' — even
' Prophet ; ' and that such question rose within him indi
cates not only that Christ openly claimed a position
different from that of Rabbi, and that His followers re
garded Him at least as a Prophet, but also, within the
breast of Simon, a struggle in which Jewish prejudice was
bearing down the impression of Christ's Presence.
They were all sitting, or rather ' lying,' around the
table, the body resting on the couch, the feet turned away
from the table in the direction of the wall, while the left
elbow rested on the table. And now, from the open court
yard, up the verandah-step, perhaps through an ante-

The Woman which was a Sinner 157
chamber, and by the open door, passed the figure of a
woman into the festive reception-room and dining-hall.
How she obtained access little matters — as little as
whether she ' had been,' or ' was ' up to that day, ' a
sinner,' in the terrible acceptation of the term. But we
must bear in mind the greatness of Jewish prejudice
against any conversation with woman, however lofty her
character, fully to realise the incongruity on the part of
such a woman in seeking access to the Rabbi, Whom so
many regarded as the God-sent Prophet.
We have said before that this story is a fragment ; and
here, also, as in the invitation of Simon to Jesus, we have
evidence of it. The woman had, no doubt, heard His
words that day. What He had said would be, in sub
stance : ' Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy
laden, and I will give you rest. . . . Learn of Me, for I
am meek and lowly in heart. ... Ye shall find rest unto
your souls. . . .' This was to her the Prophet sent from
God with the good news that opened even to her the
Kingdom of Heaven, and laid its yoke upon her, not bear
ing her down to very hell, but easy of wear and light of
burden. She knew that it was all as He said, in regard
to the heavy load of her past ; and, as she listened to those
Words, and looked on that Presence, she learned to believe
that it was all as He had promised to the heavy-burdened.
And she had watched, and followed Him afar off to the
Pharisee's house.
The shadow of her form must have fallen on all who
sat at meat. But none spake ; nor did she heed any but
One. What mattered it to her who was there, or what
they thought ? There was only One Whose Presence she
dared not encounter — not from fear of Him, but from
knowledge of herself. It was He to Whom she had come.
And so she ' stood behind at His Feet.' She had brought
with her an alabastron (phial, or flask, commonly of
alabaster) of perfume. We know that perfumes were
much sought after, and very largely in use. Some, such
as true balsam, were worth double their weight in silver ;
others, like the spikenard, though not equally costly, were

158 Jesus the Messiah
also ' precious.' We have evidence that perfumed oils —
notably oil of roses, and of the iris plant, but chiefly the
mixture known in antiquity as foliatum, were largely manu
factured and used in Palestine. A flask with this perfume
was worn by women round the neck, and hung down below
the breast. So common was its use as to be allowed even
on the Sabbath. Hence it seems at least not unlikely
that the alabastron which she brought, who loved so much,
was none other than the ' flask of foliatum.'
As she stood behind Him at His Feet, reverently bend
ing, a shower of tears, like sudden summer-rain, ' bedewed '
His Feet. As if afraid to defile Him by her tears, she
quickly wiped them away with the long tresses of her hair
that had fallen down and touched Him as she bent. And,
•now that her faith had grown bold in His Presence, she is
continuing to kiss those Feet which had brought to her
the ' good tidings of peace,' and to anoint them out of the
alaiastron round her neck. And still she spake not, nor
yet He. For, as on her part silence seemed most fitting
utterance, so on His, that He suffered it in silence was
best and most fitting answer to her.
Another there was whose thoughts, far other than hers
or the Christ's, were also unuttered. A more painful con
trast than that of ' the Pharisee ' in this scene can scarcely
be imagined. We do not insist that the designation ' this
Man,'a given to Christ in his unspoken thoughts,
¦ ver. 39 or ^ manner jn which afterwards he replied to
the Saviour's question by a supercilious ' I suppose,' or ' pre
sume,' b necessarily imply contempt. But they
Ter' 43 certainly indicate the mood of his spirit. One
thing, at least, seemed now clear to this Pharisee : If
' this Man,' with His strange, novel ways and words, Whom
in politeness he must call ' Teacher,' Rabbi, were a Prophet,
He would have known who the woman was ; and, if He had
known who she was, then would He never have allowed
such approach.
And yet Prophet He was, and in far fuller sense than
Simon could have imagined. For He had read Simon's
unspoken thoughts. Presently He would show it to him;

THE WOMAN WHICH WAS A SINNER.

The Woman which was a Sinner 159
yet not by open reproof that would have put him to shame
before his guests. What follows is not, as generally sup
posed, a parable, but an illustration. Accordingly, it must
in no way be pressed. With this explanation vanish all
the supposed difficulties about the Pharisees being ' little
forgiven,' and hence ' loving little.' To convince Simon
of the error of his conclusion that, if the life of that woman
had been known, the Prophet must have forbidden her
touch of love, Jesus entered into the Pharisee's own modes
of reasoning. Of two debtors, one of whom owed ten
times as much as the other, who would best love the
creditor who had freely forgiven them ? Though to both
the debt might have been equally impossible of discharge,
and both might love equally, yet a Rabbi, would, according
to his Jewish notions, say that he would love most to
whom most had been forgiven. If this was the undoubted
outcome of Jewish theology — the so much for so much —
let it be applied to the present case. If there were much
benefit, there would be much love ; if little benefit, little
love. And conversely : in such case much love would
argue much benefit ; little love, small benefit. Let him
then apply the reasoning by marking this woman, and
contrasting her conduct with his own. To wash the feet
of a guest, to give him the kiss of welcome, and especially
to anoint him,a were not, indeed, necessary atten-
johnnii. 4 tions at a feast. All the more did they indicate
(tfxb*™ special care, affection, and respect.b None of
xxiv. 32; these tokens of regard had marked the merely
21 ; i Sam. polite reception of Him by the Pharisee. But,
ST'xviii. 7 ; in a twofold climax,0 of which the intensity can
6 f™i.M'; only be indicated, the Saviour now proceeds to
Ecoi.xix.8; ghow how different it had been with her, to
Amos vi. 6; . -T^ -ii/-.
p3. xxin. 5 whom, for the first time, He now turned ! (Jn
VT' Simon's own reasoning, then, he must have re
ceived but little, she much benefit. Or, to apply the
former illustration, and now to reality : ' Forgiven have
been -her sins, the many' — not in ignorance, but with
knowledge of their being ' many.' This, by Simon's former
admission, would explain and account for her much love,

160 Jesus the Messiah
as the effect of much forgiveness. On the other hand —
though the Lord does not actually express it — this other
inference would also hold true, that Simon's little love
showed that ' little is being forgiven.'
And as formerly for the first time He had turned, so
now for the first time He spoke to her : ' Thy sins have
been forgiven ' — not now ' the many.' Nor does He now
heed the murmuring thoughts of those around, who cannot
understand Who this is that forgiveth sins also. But to her
He said : ' Thy faith has saved thee : go into peace.' Our
logical dogmatics would have had it : 'go in peace ; ' He,
' into peace.' And so she, the first who had come to Him
for spiritual healing, went out into the better light, and
into the eternal peace of the Kingdom of Heaven.

CHAPTER XXXI.
THE MINISTERING WOMEN — THE RETURN TO CAPERNAUM —
HEALING OF THE DEMONISED DUMB  PHARISAIC CHARGE
AGAINST CHRIST — THE VISIT OF CHRIST'S MOTHER AND
BRETHREN.
(St. Luke viii. 1-3 ; St. Matt. ix. 32-35 ; St. Mark iii. 22, &o. ; St. Matt.
xii. 46-50 and parallels.)
Although there are difficulties connected with details, we
conclude that Christ was now returning to Capernaum
¦ from that Missionary journey a of which Nain
¦rtu.i-3; st. had been the southernmost point. On this jour
ney He was attended, not only by the Twelve,
but by loving, grateful women. Among them three are
specially named. ' Mary, called Magdalene,' had received
from Him special benefit of healing to body and soul.
Her designation as Magdalene was probably derived from
her native city, Magdala, just as several Rabbis are spoken
of in the Talmud as ' Magdalene.' Magdala, which was a
Sabbath-day's journey from Tiberias, was celebrated 'for its
dyeworks, and its manufactories of fine woollen textures,
of which eighty are mentioned. Indeed, all that district

The Ministering Women 161
seems to have been engaged in this industry. It was also
reputed for its traffic in turtle-doves and pigeons for
purifications — tradition, with its usual exaggeration of
numbers, mentioning three hundred such shops. Accord
ingly, its wealth was very great, and it is named among
the three cities whose contributions were so large as to be
sent in a waggon to Jerusalem. But its moral corruption
was also great, and to this the Rabbis attributed its final
destruction. Of the many towns and villages that dotted
the shores of the Lake of Galilee, all have passed away
except Magdala, which is still represented by the collection
of mud hovels that bears the name of Mejdel. The ancient
watch-tower which gave the place its name is still there,
probably standing on the same site as that which looked
down on Jesus and the Magdalene. To this day Magdala
is celebrated for its springs and rivulets, which render it
specially suitable for dyeworks ; while the shell-fish, with
which these waters and the Lake are said to abound, might
supply some ofthe dye.
Such details may help us more clearly to realise the
home, and with it, perhaps, also the upbringing and
circumstances of her who not only ministered to Jesus in
His life, but, with eager avarice cf love, watched ' afar off'
His dying moments/ and then sat over against
» St. Matt JO ' ... TT. -n n°
xxvii. 56 the new tomb of Joseph in which ms .Body was
Ter" 61 laid.b And the terrible time which followed she
spent with her like-minded friends, who in Galilee had
ministered to Christ,0 in preparing those ' spices
xxiii. 55 and ointments ' d which the Risen Saviour would
4 ver' 56 never require. But however difficult the circum
stances may have been, in which the Magdalene came to
profess her faith in Jesus, those of Joanna must have been
even more trying. She was the wife of Ghuza, Herod's
Steward — possibly, though not likely, the Court-official
whose son Jesus had healed by the word spoken in Cana.a
• st. John Only one other of those who ministered to Jesus
iv. «-54 js mentioned by name. It is Susanna, the ' lily.'
And they ' ministered to Him of their substance.'
It was on this return-journey to Capernaum, probably M

162 Jesus the Messiah
not far from the latter place, that the two blind men had
» st. Matt their sight restored." It was then also that the
ix. 27-31 healing of the demonised dumb took place, which
is recorded in St. Matt. ix. 32-35, and alluded to in St.
Mark iii. 22-30. This narrative must, of course, not be
confounded with the somewhat similar event told in St.
Matt. xii. 22-32, and in St. Luke xi. 14-26. The latter
occurred at a much later period in our Lord's life, when,
as the whole context shows, the opposition of the Pharisaic
party had assumed much larger proportions, and the lan
guage of Jesus was more fully denunciatory of the character
and guilt of His enemies. That charge of the Pharisees,
therefore, that Jesus cast out the demons through the
t st Matt Prince of the demons,b as well as His reply to it,
ix. 34 wjh best be considered when it shall appear in
its fullest development.
It was on this return-journey to Capernaum from the
uttermost borders of Galilee that the demonised dumb was
restored by the casting out of the demon. The circum
stances show that a new stage in the Messianic course had
begun. It is characterised by fuller unfolding of Christ's
teaching and working, and pari passu by more fully de
veloped opposition of the Pharisaic party. For the two
went together, nor can they be distinguished as cause or
effect. That new stage, as repeatedly noted, had opened
on His return from the ' Unknown Feast ' in Jerusalem,
whence He seems to have been followed by the Pharisaic
party. We have marked it so early as the call of the four
disciples by the Lake of Galilee. But it first actively
appeared at the healing of the paralytic in Capernaum,
when, for the first time, we noticed the presence and
murmuring of the Scribes, and, for the first time also, the
distinct declaration about the forgiveness of sins on the
part of Jesus. The same twofold element appeared in the
call of the publican Matthew, and the cavil of the Pharisees
at Christ's subsequent eating and drinking with ' sinners.'
It was in further development of this separation from the
old and now hostile element, that the twelve Apostles
were next appointed, and that distinctive teaching of Jesus

Healing of the Demonised Dumb 163
addressed to the people in the ' Sermon on the Mount,'
which was alike a vindication and an appeal. On the
journey through Galilee, which followed, the hostile party
does not seem to have actually attended Jesus ; but their
growing and now outspoken opposition is heard in the
discourse of Christ about John the Baptist after the
• st. Matt dismissal of his disciples," while its influence
xi. 16-19 appears in the unspoken thoughts of Simon the
Pharisee. It has already been suggested that the Pharisaic party,
as such, did not attend Jesus on His Galilean journey.
But we are emphatically told that tidings of the raising
* st. Luke °f the dead at Nain had gone forth into Judsea.b
TiL 1T No doubt they reached the leaders at Jerusalem.
There seems just sufficient time between this and the
healing of the demonised dumb on the return-journey to
Capernaum, to account for the presence there of those
« st. Matt Pharisees,0 who are expressly described by St.
a^st Mark Mark a as ' the Scribes which came down from
m-22 Jerusalem.'
Whatever view the leaders at Jerusalem may have
taken of the raising at Nain, it could no longer be denied
that miracles were wrought by Jesus. At least, what to
us seem miracles, yet not to them, since, as we have seen,
' miraculous ' cures and the expelling of demons lay within
the sphere of their 'extraordinary ordinary' — were not
miracles in our sense, since they were, or professed to be,
done by their ' own children.' The mere fact, therefore,
of such cures would present no difficulty to them. To us
a single well-ascertained miracle would form irrefragable
evidence of the claims of Christ ; to them it would not.
They could believe in the ' miracles,' and yet not in the
Christ. And here, again, we perceive that it was enmity
to the Person and Teaching of Jesus which led to the
denial of His claims. The inquiry : By what Power Jesus
did these works ? they met by the assertion that it was
through that of Satan, or the Chief of the Demons. They
regarded Jesus, as not only temporarily, but permanently,
possessed by a demon, that is, as the constant vehicle of
M 2

164 Jesus the Messiah
Satanic influence. And this demon was, according to
them, none other than Beelzebub, the Prince of the devils. a
»'st.Mark Thus, in their view, it was really Satan who
™-22 acted in and through Him; and Jesus, instead
of being recognised as the Son of God, was regarded as
an incarnation of Satan ; instead of being owned as the
Messiah, was denounced and treated as the representative
of the Kingdom of Darkness. All this, because the King
dom which He came to open and which He preached,
was precisely the opposite of what they regarded as the
Kingdom of God. Thus it was the essential contra
riety of Rabbinism to the Gospel of the Christ that lay
at the foundation of their conduct towards the Person of
Christ. To regard every fresh manifestation of Christ's Power
as only a fuller development of the power of Satan, and to
oppose it with increasing determination and hostility, even
to the Cross : such was henceforth the natural progress of
this history. On the other hand, such a course once fully
settled upon, there would and could be no further reason
ing with or against it on the part of Jesus. Henceforth
His Discourses and attitude to such Judaism must be
chiefly denunciatory, while still seeking — as, from the
inward necessity of His Nature and the outward necessity
of His Mission, He must — to save the elect remnant from
this 'untoward generation,' and to lay broad and wide
the foundations of the future Church.
The charge of Satanic agency was, indeed, not quite
new. It had been suggested that John the Baptist had
been. under demoniacal influence, and this cunning pretext
for resistance to his message had been eminently successful
>> st. Matt with the people.15 The same charge, only in
it". Luke1 rnuch fuller form, was now raised against Jesus.
vii. 31-33 As 'the multitude marvelled, saying, it was
never so seen in Israel,' the Pharisees, without denying
the facts, had this explanation of them : that, both as re
garded the casting out of the demon from the dumb man
• st. Matt an(l aH similar works, Jesus wrought it ' through
ix.33,34 the Ruler cf the Demons.'0

Pharisaic Charge against Christ 165
Their besetment of the Christ did not cease here. It
is to it that we attribute the visit of 'the mother and
brethren' of Jesus, which is recorded in the three Synoptic
Gospels." Pharisaic opposition had either filled
xii.46&o.; those relatives of Jesus with fear for His safety,
iH.3i&o.; or ma(le them sincerely concerned about His
vmLw&c proceedings. Only if it meant some kind of
interference with His Mission, whether prompted
by fear or affection, would Jesus have so disowned their
relationship. But it meant more than this. Without going so far
as to see pride or ostentation in this, that the Virgin-
Mother summoned Jesus to her outside the house, since
the opposite might as well have been her motive, we
cannot but regard the words of Christ as the sternest pro
phetic rebuke of all Mariolatry, prayer for the Virgin's
intercession, and, still more, of the strange doctrines
about her freedom from actual and original sin, up to
their prurient sequence in the dogma ofthe ' Immaculate
Conception.' On the other hand, we also remember the deep rever
ence among the Jews for parents, which found even ex
aggerated expression in the Talmud. And we feel that
of all in Israel He, who was their King, could not have
spoken or done what might even seem disrespectful to a
mother. TJiere must have been higher meaning in His
words. That meaning would be better understood after
His Resurrection.

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE PARABLES TO THE PEOPLE BY THE LAKE OF GALILEE,
AND THOSE TO THE DISCIPLES IN CAPERNAUM.
(St. Matt. xiii. 1-52 ; St. Mark iv. 1-34 ; St. Luke viii. 4-18.)
We are once more with Jesus and His disciples by the
Lake of Galilee. It was a spring morning, and of such
spring-time as only the East, and chiefly the Galilean
Lake, knows. Almost suddenly the blood-red anemone,

1 66 Jesus the Messiah
the gay tulip, the spotless narcissus, and the golden ranun
culus clothe the fields, while all trees put forth their fragrant
promise of fruit. ' As the imagery employed in the Sermon
on the Mount confirmed the inference, otherwise derived,
that it was spoken during the brief period after the winter
rains, when the ' lilies ' decked the fresh grass, so the scene
depicted in the Parables spoken by the Lake of Galilee
indicates a more advanced season, when the fields gave first
promise of a harvest to be gathered in due time. And
as we know that the barley-harvest commenced with the
Passover, we cannot be mistaken in supposing that the
scene is laid a few weeks before that Feast.
Other evidence of this is not wanting. From the
»st Matt opening verses a we infer that Jesus had gone
xiii. i, 2 forth from ' the house ' with His disciples only,
and that, as He sat by the seaside, the gathering multitude
had obliged Him to enter a ship, whence He spake unto
them many things in Parables.
We mark an ascending scale in the three series of Para
bles, spoken respectively at three different periods in the
History of Christ, and with reference to three different stages
»st.Matt. °f Pharisaic opposition and popular feeling.
xi"- The first series is that,b when Pharisaic opposi
tion had just devised the explanation that His works were of
demoniac agency, and when misled affection would have
converted the ties of earthly relationship into bonds to hold
the Christ.
,. x , The second series of Parables ° is connected
c fot Luke • -i i t p tyi ¦ ¦ • •
x.-xvi., with the climax of Pharisaic opposition as pre-
mi, passim gen|.e(j jn Q^e charge, in its most fully developed
form, that Jesus was, so to speak, the incarnation of
Satan, the constant medium and vehicle of his activ
ist. Luke ity.d This was the blasphemy against the Holy
XI. 14— 3D J y-J ¦¦ ,
st. Matt. brnost.
it Marffii In the third series, consisting of eight Para-
«it3Matt oles,e the Kingdom of God is presented in its
xviii., xx., final stage of ingathering, separation, reward and
xSv.^xxv., loss, as, indeed, we might expect in the teaching
of the Lord immediately before His final rejec-

St.Luke
xix.

Parables by the Lake of Galilee 167
tion by Israel and betrayal into the hands of the Gen
tiles. One thing, however, is common to all the Parables,
and forms a point of connection between them. They are
all occasioned by some unreceptiveness on the part of the
hearers, and that, even when the hearers are professing
disciples. This seems indicated in the reason assigned
by Christ to the disciples for His use of parabolic teach
ing : that unto them it was ' given to know the mys
tery of the Kingdom of God, but unto them that
•stMart are without, all these things are done in
iT-u parables.' a
Little information is to be gained from discussing the
etymology of the word Parable. The word means the
placing of one thing by the side of another. Perhaps no
other mode of teaching was so common among the Jews
as that by Parables. Only in their case they were almost
entirely illustrations of what had been said or taught;
while, in the case of Christ, they served as the foundation
for His teaching. This distinction will be found to hold
true, even in instances where there seems the closest
parallelism between a Rabbinic and an Evangelic Parable.
On further examination, the difference between them, as
has been already remarked in regard to other forms of
teaching, will appear not merely one of degree, but of kind,
or rather of standpoint. This may be illustrated by the
Parable ofthe woman who made anxious search for her lost
» st Luke coin,b to which there is an almost literal Jewish
**¦ s-10 parallel. But, whereas in the Jewish Parable
the moral is that a man ought to take much greater pains
in the study of the Law than in the search for coin, since
the former procures an eternal reward, while the coin
would, if found, at most only procure temporary enjoy
ment, the Parable of Christ is intended to set forth, not
the merit of study or of works, but the compassion of the
Saviour in seeking the lost, and the joy of Heaven in his
recovery. It need scarcely be said that comparison
between such Parables, as regards their spirit, is scarcely
possible, except by way of contrast.

1 68 Jesus the Messiah
» st Matt. ^n *ne record of this first series," the fact that
fS- „ ^ Jesus spake to the people in Parables* and only
» St. Matt. r • ¦ 1 in tj.
xiii. 3, and in Parables,0 is strongly marked. It appears,
• st'Matt. therefore, to have been the first time that this
S^Markiv. mode of popular teaching was adopted by Him.
33. 34 Accordingly, the disciples not only expressed
their astonishment, but inquired the reason of this novel
»st Matt niethod.d The answer of the Lord specially
xin. io, and marks this as the difference between the teaching
vouchsafed to them and the Parables spoken to
the people, that the designed effect of the latter was
judicial : to complete that hardening which, in its com
mencement, had been caused by their voluntary rejection
•st Matt °f what they had heard.6 To us, at least, it
xi. 13-17 seems clear that the ground of the different
effect of the Parables on the unbelieving multitude and on
the believing disciples was not caused by the substance or
form of these Parables, but by the different standpoint of
the two classes of hearers towards the Kingdom of God.
We are now in some measure able to understand why
Christ now for the first time adopted parabolic teaching.
Its reason lay in the altered circumstances ofthe case. All
His former teaching had been plain, although initial. In
it He had set forth by word, and exhibited by fact (in
miracles), that Kingdom of God which He had come to open
to all believers. The hearers had now ranged themselves
into two parties. Those who, whether temporarily or per
manently (as the result would show), had admitted these
premisses, so far as they understood them, were His pro
fessing disciples. On the other hand, the Pharisaic party
had now devised a consistent theory, according to which
the acts, and hence also the teaching, of Jesus were of
Satanic origin. Christ must still preach the Kingdom;
for that purpose had He come into the world. Only, the
presentation of that Kingdom must now be for decision.
It must separate the two classes, leading the one to clearer
understanding of the mysteries of the Kingdom, while the
other class of hearers would now regard these mysteries as
wholly unintelligible, incredible, and to be rejected. And

The Parable of the Sower iGg
the ground of this lay in the respective positions of these
two classes towards the Kingdom. ' Whosoever hath, to
him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance ;
but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away
even that he hath.' And the mysterious manner in which
they were presented in Parables was alike suited to, and
corresponded with, the character of these ' mysteries of
the Kingdom,' now set forth, not for initial instruction,
but for final decision.
Thus much in general explanation. The record of the
•st. Matt first series of Parables a contains three separate
5du- accounts: that of the Parables spoken to the
people ; that of the reason for the use of parabolic teaching,
and' the explanation of the first Parables (both addressed
to the disciples) ; and, finally, another series of Parables
spoken to the disciples. To each of these we must briefly
address ourselves.
On that bright spring morning, when Jesus spoke
from ' the ship ' to the multitude that crowded the shore,
He addressed to them these four Parables : concerning
Him Who sowed, concerning the Wheat and the Tares,
concerning the Mustard-Seed, and concerning the Leaven.
The first, or perhaps the two first of these, must be supple
mented by what may be designated as a fifth Parable, that
of the Seed growing unobservedly. This is the only Parable
t, gt_ Mart of which St. Mark alone has preserved the record.1"
iv. 26-29 AJl these Parables refer, as is expressly stated, to
the Kingdom of God ; that is, not to any special phase or
characteristic of it, but to the Kingdom itself, or in other
words, to its history.
The first Parable is that of Him Who sowed. We
can almost picture to ourselves the Saviour seated in the
prow of the boat, as He points His hearers to the rich
plain over against Him, where the young corn, still in the
first green of its growing, is giving promise of harvest.
Like this is the Kingdom of Heaven which He has come
to proclaim. The Sower has gone forth to sow the Good
Seed. If we bear in mind a mode of sowing peculiar to
those times, the Parable gains in vividness. According to

170 Jesus the Messiah
Jewish authorities there was twofold sowing, as the seed
was either cast by the hand or by means of cattle. In the
latter case, a sack with holes was filled with corn, and
laid on the back of the animal, so that, as it moved on
wards, the seed was thickly scattered. Thus it might well
be that it would fall indiscriminately on beaten roadway,
on stony places but thinly covered with soil, or where the
thorns had not been cleared away, or undergrowth from
the thorn-hedge crept into the field, as well as on good
ground. The result in each case need not here be
repeated. But what meaning would all this convey to
the Jewish hearers of Jesus ? How could this sowing and
growing be like the Kingdom of God ? Certainly not in
the sense in which they expected it. To them it was only
a rich harvest, when all Israel would bear plenteous fruit.
Again, what was the Seed, and who the Sower ? or what
could be meant by the various kinds of soil and their
unproductiveness ?
To us, as explained by the Lord, all this seems plain.
The initial condition requisite was to believe that Jesus
was the Divine Sower, and His Word the Seed of the
Kingdom. If this were admitted, they had at least the
right premisses for understanding ' this mystery of the
Kingdom.' According to Jewish view the Messiah was to
appear in outward pomp, and by display of power to esta
blish the Kingdom. But this was the very idea of the
Kingdom, with which Satan had tempted Jesus at the out
set of His Ministry. In opposition to it was this ' mystery
of the Kingdom,' according to which it consisted in recep
tion of the Seed of the Word. That reception would
depend on the nature of the soil, that is, on the mind and
heart of the hearers. The Kingdom of God was within ;
it came neither by a display of power, nor even by this,
that Israel, or else the Gospel-hearers, were the field on
which the Seed of the Kingdom was sown.
If even the disciples failed to comprehend the whole
bearing of this ' mystery of the Kingdom,' we can believe
how utterly strange and un-Jewish such a Parable of the
Messianic Kingdom must have sounded to them who had

Parable of the Wheat and the Tares 171
been influenced by the Pharisaic representations of the
Person and Teaching of Christ.
This appears the fittest place for inserting the Parable
•st. Mark recorded by St. Mark alone," concerning the Seed
iv. 26-29 growing unobservedly. If the first Parable, that
of the Sower and the Field of Sowing, would prove to
all who were outside the pale of discipleship a ' mystery,'
while to those within it would unfold knowledge of the
very mysteries of the Kingdom, this would even more fully
be the case in regard to this second or supplementary
Parable. In it we are only viewing that portion of the
field which the former Parable had described as good
soil. ' So is the Kingdom of God, as if a man had cast the
seed on the earth, and slept and rose, night and day, and
the seed sprang up and grew : how, he knows not himself.
Automatous [self-acting] the earth beareth fruit : first
blade, then ear, then full wheat in the ear ! But when
the fruit presents itself, immediately he sendeth forth the
sickle, because the harvest is come.' The meaning of all
this seems plain. We can only go about our daily work,
or lie down to rest, as day and night alternate ; we see,
but know not the how of the growth of the seed. Yet
assuredly it will ripen, and when that moment has arrived,
immediately the sickle is thrust in, for the harvest is come.
And so also with the Sower. His outward activity on
earth was in the sowing, and it will be in the harvesting.
What lies between them is of that other Dispensation ofthe
Spirit, till He again send forth His reapers into His field.
But all this must have been to those ' without ' a great
mystery, in no wise compatible with Jewish notions ; while
to them ' within ' it proved a very needful unfolding of the
mysteries of the Kingdom, with wide application of them.
The ' mystery ' is made still further mysterious, or else
it is still further unfolded, in the next Parable concerning
the Tares sown among the Wheat. According to the com
mon view, these Tares represent what is botanically known
as the ' bearded darnel,' a poisonous rye-grass, very com
mon in the East, ' entirely like wheat until the ear appears;'
or else the ' creeping wheat ' or ' couch-grass ' (Triticum

172 Jesus the Messiah
repens), of which the roots creep underground and become
intertwined with those of the wheat. But the Parable
gains in meaning if we bear in mind that, according to
ancient Jewish (and, indeed, modern Eastern) ideas, the
Tares were not of different seed, but only a degenerate
kind of wheat.
Once more we see the field on which the corn is grow
ing — we know not how. The sowing time is past. ' The
Kingdom of Heaven is become like to a man who sowed
good seed in his field. But in the time that men sleep
came his enemy and over-sowed tares in (upon) the midst
of the wheat, and went away.' Thus far the picture is
true to nature, since such deeds of enmity were, and still
are, common in the East. And so matters would go on
unobserved, since, whatever kind of ' tares ' may be meant,
it would, from their likeness, be for some time impossible
to distinguish them from the wheat. ' But when the herb
age grew and made fruit, then appeared (became manifest)
also the tares.' What follows is equally true to fact, since
most strenuous efforts are always made in the East to weed
out the tares. But in the present instance separation
would have been impossible, without at the same time
uprooting some of the wheat. For the tares had been
sown right into the midst, and not merely by the side of
the wheat ; and their roots and blades must have become
intertwined. And so they must grow together to the har
vest. Then such danger would no longer exist, for the
period of growing was past, and the wheat had to be
gathered into the barn. Then would be the right time
to bid the reapers first gather the tares into bundles for
burning, that afterwards the wheat, pure and unmixed,
might be stored in the garner.
True to life as the picture is, yet the Parable was, of
all others, perhaps the most un-Jewish, and therefore
mysterious and unintelligible. Hence the disciples spe
cially asked explanation of this only, which from its main
subject they designated as the Parable ' of the Tares.' a
»st. Matt. Yet this was also perhaps the most important for
xm- 36 them to understand. For already ' the Kingdom

Parable of the Wheat and the Tares 173
of Heaven is become like ' this, although the appearance of
fruit has not yet made it manifest that tares have been
sown right into the midst of the wheat. But they would
soon have to learn it, in bitter experience and temptation,"
*st. John and not only as regarded the impressionable,
¦n. 66-70 fic]jle multitude, nor even the narrower circle of
professing followers of Jesus, but that in their very midst
there was a traitor. Most needful, yet most mysterious also,
is this other lesson, as the experience of the Church has
shown, since almost every period of her history has wit
nessed not only the recurrence of the proposal to make
the wheat unmixed while growing, by gathering out the
tares, but actual attempts towards it. All such have proved
failures, because the field is the wide ' world,' not a narrow
sect ; because the tares have been sown into the midst of
the wheat, and by the enemy ; and because, if such gather
ing were to take place, the roots and blades of tares and
wheat would be found so intertwined, that harm would
come to the wheat. But what have we, who are only the
owner's servants, to do with it, since we are not bidden of
Him ? The ' ^Eon-completion ' will witness the harvest,
when the separation of tares and wheat may not only be
accomplished with safety, but shall become necessary.
For the wheat must be garnered in the heavenly storehouse,
and the tares bound in bundles to be burned.
More mysterious still, and if possible even more need
ful, was the instruction that the Enemy who sowed the
tares was the Devil. To the Jews, nay, to us all, it may
seem a mystery that in ' the Messianic Kingdom of
Heaven ' there should be a mixture of tares with the wheat,
the more mysterious, that the Baptist had predicted that
the coming Messiah would throughly purge His floor.
But to those who were capable of receiving it, it would be
explained by the fact that the Devil was ' the Enemy ' of
Christ and of His Kingdom, and that he had sowed those
tares. This would, at the same time, be the most effective
answer to the Pharisaic charge that Jesus was the incar
nation of Satan, and the vehicle of his influence.
The concluding two Parables set forth another equally

174 Jesus the Messiah
mysterious characteristic of the Kingdom : that- of its
development and power, as contrasted with its small and
weak beginnings. In the Parable of the Mustard-seed
this is shown as regards the relation of the Kingdom to
the outer world ; in that of the Leaven in reference to
the world within us. The one exhibits the extensiveness,
the other the intensiveness of its power ; in both cases at
first hidden, almost imperceptible, and seemingly wholly
inadequate to the final result.
A few remarks will set the special meaning of these
Parables more clearly before us. Here also the illustrations
used may have been at hand. The very idea of Parables
implies, not strict scientific accuracy, but popular pictorial-
ness. It is characteristic of them to present vivid sketches
that appeal to the popular mind, and exhibit such analogies
of higher truths as can be readily perceived by all. Thus,
as regards the first of these two Parables, the seed of the
mustard-plant passed in popular parlance as the smallest
of seeds. In fact, the expression, ' small as a mustard-
seed,' had become proverbial, and was used, not only by
» st. Matt our Lord,a but frequently by the Rabbis, to indi-
xvu. 20 ca£e ^he smallest amount, such as the least drop
of blood, the least defilement, or the smallest remnant of
sun-glow in the sky. ' But when it is grown, it is greater
than the garden-herbs.' Indeed, it looks no longer like
a large garden-herb or shrub, but ' becomes,' or rather
appears like ' a tree ' — as St. Luke puts it, ' a great tree b' —
tst. Luke of course, not in comparison with other trees, but
xiii. is, 19 wjth garden-shrubs. Such growth of the mus
tard-seed was also a fact well known at the time, and
indeed still observed in the East.
This is the first and main point in the Parable. The
other concerning the birds which are attracted to its
« st. Mark branches and ' lodge ' — literally, ' make tents ' —
"'• 32 there, or else under the shadow of it,0 is subsi
diary. Pictorial, of course, this trait would be, and we can
the more readily understand that birds would be attracted to
the branches or the shadow of the mustardrplant, when we
know that mustard was in Palestine mixed with or used as

Parable of the Leaven 175
food for pigeons, and presumably would be sought by other
birds. And the general meaning would the more easily be
apprehended, that a tree, whose wide-spreading branches
afforded lodgment to the birds of heaven, was a familiar
Old Testament figure for a mighty kingdom that gave
>Ezek.xxxi. shelter to the nations.3- Indeed, it is specifically
iv.1^ ivai, used as an illustration of the Messianic King-
>»2Ezek xvu. dom.b Thus the Parable would point to this, so
23 full of mystery to the Jews, so explanatory of
the mystery to the disciples : that the Kingdom of Heaven,
planted in the field of the world as the smallest seed, in
the most humble and unpromising manner, would grow
till it far outstripped all other similar plants, and gave
shelter to all nations under heaven.
To this extensive power of the Kingdom corresponded
its intensive character, whether in the world at large or in
the individual. This formed the subject of the last of the
Parables addressed at this time to the people — that of the
Leaven. We need not here resort to ingenious methods
of explaining ' the three measures,' or Seahs, of meal in
which the leaven was hid. Three Seahs were an Ephah,
of which the exact capacity differed in various districts.
To mix ' three measures ' of meal was common in Biblical,
0 Com as we^ as *n la*er times.0 Nothing further was
Gen. xviii. therefore conveyed than the common process of
i9';iusanvi. ordinary, everyday life. And in this, indeed,
24 lies the very point ofthe Parable : that the King
dom of God when received within would seem like leaven
hid, but would gradually pervade, assimilate, and trans
form the whole of our common life.
With this most un-Jewish characterisation of the
Kingdom of Heaven, the Saviour dismissed the people.
Enough had been said to them and for them, if they had
but ears to hear. And now He was again alone with the
disciples ' in the house ' at Capernaum, to which they had
returned.11 Many new and deeper thoughts of
xm. '36 ; the Kingdom had come to them. But why had
io™n'aTst He so spoken to the multitude, in a manner so
Mark iv. 10 aiflereilt} as regarded not only the form, but

176 Jesus the Messiah
even the substance of His teaching ? And did they quite
understand its solemn meaning themselves ? More especi
ally, who was the enemy whose activity would threaten
the safety of the harvest ? Of that harvest they had
• st. John already heard on the way through Samaria."
iv. 35 ^n(j what were those ' tares,' which were to con
tinue in their very midst till the judicial separation of the
end ? To these questions Jesus now made answer. His
statement of the reason for adopting in the present instance
the parabolic mode of teaching would, at the same time,
give them farther insight into those very mysteries of the
Kingdom which it had been the object of these Parables
to set forth. His unsolicited explanation of the details of
the first Parable would call attention to points that might
readily have escaped their notice, but which, for warning
and instruction, it most behoved them to keep in view.
Kindred, or rather closely connected, as are the two
Parables of the Treasure hid in the Field and of the Pearl
of Great Price — now spoken to the disciples — their dif
ferences are sufficiently marked. In the first, one who must
probably be regarded as intending to buy a, if not this,
field, discovers a treasure hidden there, and in his joy
parts with all else to become owner of the field and of
the hidden treasure which he had so unexpectedly found.
Some difficulty has been expressed in regard to the
morality of such a transaction. In reply it may be ob
served that it was, at least, in entire accordance with
Jewish law. If a man had found a treasure in loose coins
among the corn, it would certainly be his, if he bought
the corn. If he had found it on the ground, or in the
soil, it would equally certainly belong to him, if he could
claim ownership of the soil, and even if the field were not
his own, unless others could prove their right to it. The
law went so far as to adj udge to the purchaser of fruits
anything found among these fruits.
In the second Parable we have a wise merchantman
who travels in search of pearls, and when he finds one
which in value exceeds all else, he returns and sells all
that he has, in order to buy this unique gem. The

The Storm on the Lake of Galilee it?
supreme value of the Kingdom, the consequent desire to
appropriate it, and the necessity of parting with all else
for this purpose, are the points common to this and the
previous Parable. But in the one case, it is marked that
this treasure is hid from common view in the field, and
the finder makes unexpected discovery of it, which fills
him with joy. In the other case, the merchantman is,
indeed, in search of pearls, but he has the wisdom to dis
cover the transcendent value of this one gem, and the
yet greater wisdom to give up all further search and to
acquire it at the surrender of everything else. Thus, two
different aspects of the Kingdom, and two different con
ditions on the part of those who, for its sake, equally part
with all, are here set before the disciples.
Nor was the closing Parable of the Draw-net less
needful. Assuredly it became, and would more and more
become, them to know that mere discipleship — mere in
clusion in the Gospel-net — was not sufficient. That net
let down into the sea of this world would include much
which, when the net was at last drawn to shore, would
prove worthless or even hurtful. To be a disciple, then, was
not enough. Even here there would be separation. Not
only the tares, which the Enemy had designedly sown into
the midst of the wheat, but even much that the Gospel-
net cast into the sea had inclosed, would when brought
to land prove fit only to be cast away, into ' the oven of
the fire where there is the wailing and the gnashing of
teeth,

' 1

CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE STORM ON THE LAKE OF GALILEE.
(St. Matt. viii. 18, 23-27 ; St. Mark iv. 35-41 ; St. Luke viii. 22-25.)
It was the evening, and once more great multitudes were
gathering to Him. What more could He have said to
those to whom He had all that morning spoken in Parables,
which hearing they had not heard or understood? In
1 The well-known oven of the well-known fire — Gehenna. N

178 Jesus the Messiah
truth, after that day's teaching it was better, alike for these
multitudes and for His disciples, that He should withdraw.
And so ' they took Him even as He was ' — that is, pro
bably without refreshment of food, or even preparation
of it for the journey. This indicates how readily, nay,
eagerly, the disciples obeyed the behest.
Whether in their haste they heeded not the signs of
the coming storm ; whether they had the secret feeling
that ship and sea which bore such burden were safe from
tempest ; or whether it was one of those storms which so
often rise suddenly, and sweep with such fury over the
Lake of Galilee, must remain undetermined. He was in
the ship,' the well-known boat which was always ready
for His service, whether as pulpit, resting-place, or means
of journeying. But the departure had not been so rapid
as to pass unobserved; and the ship was attended by other
boats, which bore those who would fain follow Him. In
the stern of the ship, on the low bench where the steers
man sometimes takes rest, lay Jesus. Weariness, faintness,
hunger, exhaustion, asserted their mastery over His true
humanity. He, Whom earliest Apostolic testimony a pro-
• Phii.ii.6 claimed to have been in ' the form of God,' slept.
Meanwhile the heavens darken, the wild wind swoops
down those mountain-gorges, howling over the trembling
sea. The danger is increasing — ' so that the ship was
"st Mark now filling.' b They who watched it might be
iT-37 tempted to regard the peaceful rest of Jesus
as weakness in not being able, even at such a time, to
overcome the demands of our lower nature ; real indiffer
ence, also, to their fate — not from want of sympathy, but
of power. In short, it might lead up to the inference that
the Christ was a no-Christ, and the Kingdom of which He
had spoken in Parables, not His, in the sense of being
identified with His Person.
It has been asked, with which of the words recorded by
the Synoptists the disciples had wakened the Lord : with
« st. Matt those of entreaty to save them,0 or with those of
stLuke impatience, perhaps uttered by Peter himself?3
1 st. Mark Similarly, it has been asked, which came first — ¦

The Storm on the Lake of Galilee 179
the Lord's rebuke of the disciples, and after it that of
¦st. Matt the wind and sea,a or the converse?" But,
and*" Mark may i* not be that each recorded that first which
st. Luke had most impressed itself on his mind — St.
Matthew, who had been in the ship that night, the needful
« st Mark, rebuke to the disciples ; St. Mark and St. Luke,
go0mbly who had heard ii; from others,0 the help first, and
st. peter then the rebuke ?
Yet it is not easy to understand what the disciples had
really expected, when they wakened the Christ with their
1 Lord, save us — we perish ! ' Certainly not that which
actually happened, since not only wonder but fear came
over them as they witnessed it. Probably theirs would be
a vague, undefined belief in the unlimited possibility of
all in connection with the Christ.
When ' He was awakened ' d by the voice of
iv. 38 '_ His disciples, ' He rebuked the wind and the sea,'
irih'.L*'9' as Jehovah had of old6 — just as He had 're-
ivS 39Luke buked ' the fever ,f and the paroxysm of the de-
s st. Mark monised.8 And the sea He commanded as if it
Were a sentient being : 'Be silent! Be silenced!'
And immediately the wind was bound, the waves throbbed
into stillness, and a great calm fell upon the Lake. For,
when Christ sleepeth, there is storm ; when He waketh,
peace. But over these men who had wakened Him with
their cry, now crept wonderment, awe, and fear. No
longer, as at His first wonder-working in Capernaum, was
* st. Mark i. it: ' What is this?'h but, ' Who, then, is this?'
27 And so the grand question, which the enmity of
the Pharisees had raised, and which, in part, had been
answered in the Parables of teaching, was still more fully
and practically met in what, not only to the disciples, but
to all time, was a Parable of help. And Jesus also
wondered : how was it that they had no faith ?

n 2

180 Jesus the Messiah

CHAPTER XXXV.
AT GEEASA — THE HEALING OF THE DEMONISED.
(St. Matt viii. 28-34 ; St. Mark v. 1-20 ; St. Luke viii. 26-39.)
Most writers have suggested that the healing of the
demonised on the other side took place at early dawn of
the day following the storm on the Lake. But the distance
is so short that, even making allowance for the delay by
the tempest, the passage could scarcely have occupied the
whole night. All the circumstances lead us to regard the
healing at Gerasa as a night-scene, following immediately
on Christ's arrival from Capernaum, and after the calming
of the storm at sea.
We can with confidence describe the exact place where
our Lord and His disciples touched the other shore. The
ruins right over against the plain of Gennesaret, which
still bear the name of Kersa or Gersa, must represent the
ancient Gerasa. The locality entirely meets the require
ments of the narrative. About a quarter of an hour to the
south of Gersa is a steep bluff, which descends abruptly on
a narrow ledge of shore. A terrified herd running down
this cliff could not have recovered its foothold, and must
inevitably have been hurled into the Lake beneath. Again,
the whole country around is burrowed with limestone
caverns and rock-chambers for the dead, such as those
which were the dwelling of the demonised.
From these tombs the demonised, who is specially
singled out by St. Mark and St. Luke, as well as his less
» st. Matt, prominent companion," came forth to meet Jesus.
'"¦''¦" According to common Jewish superstition, the
evil spirits dwelt especially in lonely desolate places, and
also among tombs.1 We must here remember what has
previously been explained as to the confusion in the con
sciousness of the demonised between their own notions
1 See 'Life and Times,' App. XIII., ' Angelology and Demonology ; '
and App. XVI., ' Jewish Views about Demons and the Demonised.'

The Healing of the Demonised 181
and the ideas imposed on them by the demons. It is
quite in accordance with the Jewish notions of the de
monised that, according to the more circumstantial ac
count of St. Luke, he should feel as it were driven into
the deserts, and that he was in the tombs, while, accord
ing to St. Mark, he was ' night and day in the tombs
and in the mountains,' the very order of the words indi
cating the notion (as in Jewish belief) that it was chiefly
at night- that evil spirits were wont to haunt burying-
places. In calling attention to this and similar particulars, we
repeat that this must be kept in view as characteristic
of the demonised, that they were incapable of sepa
rating their own consciousness and ideas from the in
fluence of the demon, their own identity being merged,
and to that extent lost, in that of their tormentors. In
this respect the demonised state was also kindred to mad
ness. The language and conduct of the demonised, whether
seemingly his own, or that of the demons who influenced
him, must always be regarded as a mixture of the Jewish-
human and the demoniacal. The demonised speaks and
acts as a Jew under the control of a demon. Thus, if he
chooses solitary places by day, and tombs by night, it is
not that demons really preferred such habitations, but that
the Jews imagined it, and that the demons, acting on the
existing consciousness, would lead him, in accordance
with his preconceived notions, to select such places. Here
also mental disease offers points of analogy. The fact
that in the demonised state a man's identity was not super
seded but controlled, enables us to account for many
phenomena without either confounding demonism with
mania, or else imputing to our Lord such accommodation
to the notions of the times, as is not only untenable in
itself, but forbidden even by the language of the present
narrative. The description of the demonised, coming out of the
tombs to meet Jesus as He touched the shore at Gerasa, is
vivid in the extreme. His violence, the impossibility of

1 82 Jesus the Messiah
control by others,a the absence of self-control ,b
3,4' ar T' his homicidal,0 and almost suicidal,3 frenzy, are
vif.'Jr*' all depicted. Christ, Who had been charged by
°st Matt, the Pharisees with being the embodiment and
* st. Mark v. messenger of Satan, is here face to face with the
extreme manifestation of demoniac power and
influence. It is once more, then, a Miracle in Parable
which is about to take place. The question, which had
been raised by the enemies, is about to be brought to the
issue of a practical demonstration.
With irresistible power the demonised was drawn to
Jesus, as He touched the shore at Gerasa. As always,
the first effect of the contact was a fresh paroxysm, but
in this peculiar case not physical, but moral. As always,
also, the demons knew Jesus, and His Presence seemed to
constrain their confession of themselves — and therefore of
Him. The strange mixture of the demoniac with the human,
or rather, this expression of underlying demoniac thought
in the forms and modes of thinking of the Jewish victim,
explains the expressed fear of present actual torment, or,
as St. Matthew, who, from the briefness of his account,
does not seem to have been an eye-witness, expresses it:
' Thou art come to torment us before the time ; ' and possibly
also for the ' adjuration by God.' For, as immediately on
the homage and protestation of the demonised : ' What
between me and Thee, Jesus, Thou Son of the Most High
God ?' Christ had commanded the unclean spirit to come
out of the man, it may have been that in so doing He
had used the Name of the Most High God ; or else the
' adjuration ' itself may have been the form in which the
Jewish speaker clothed the consciousness of the demons,
with which his own was identified.
It may be conjectured that it was partly in order to
break this identification, or rather to show the demonised
that it was not real, and only the consequence of the con
trol which the demons had over him, that the Lord asked
his name. To this the man made answer, still in the dual
consciousness, ' My name is Legion : for we are many.1

The Healing of the Demonised 183
Such might be the subjective motive for Christ's question.
Its objective reason may have been to show the power of
the demoniac possession in the present instance, thus
marking it as an altogether extreme case. It was a com
mon Jewish idea that, under certain circumstances, ' a
legion of hurtful spirits ' (of course not in the sense of a
Roman legion) ' were on the watch for men. saying : When
shall he fall into the hands of one of these things, and be
taken ? '
This identification of the demons with the demonised,
in consequence of which he thought with their conscious
ness, and they spoke not only through him but in his forms
of thinking, may also account for the last and most difficult
part of this narrative. Their main object and wish was
not to be banished from the country and people, or, as
St. Luke puts it — again to ' depart into the abyss.' Let us
now try to realise the scene. On the very narrow strip of
shore, between the steep cliff that rises in the background
and the Lake, stands Jesus with His disciples and the
demonised. The wish of- the demons is not to be sent out
of the country — not back into the abyss. Up on that
cliff a great herd of swine is feeding ; up that cliff, there
fore, is ' into the swine ; ' and this also agrees with Jewish
thoughts concerning uncleanness. The rendering of our
% st. Mark Authorised Version,3- that, in reply to the demo-
T- 13 niac entreaty, ' forthwith Jesus gave them leave,'
has led to misunderstanding. The verb, which is the same
in all the three Gospels, would be better rendered by
* suffered ' than by ' gave them leave.' With the latter we
associate positive permission. None such was either asked
or given. The Lord suffered it — that is, He did not
actually hinder it. He only ' said unto them, Go ! '
What followed belongs to the phenomena of supersen-
suous influences upon animals, of which many instances
are recorded, but the rationale of which it is impossible to
explain. This, however, we can understand : that under
such circumstances a panic would seize the herd, that it
would madly rush down the steep, on which it could not
arrest itself, and so perish in the sea.

1 84 Jesus the Messiah
The weird scene was past. And now silence has
fallen on them. From above, the keepers of the herd had
seen it all — alike what had passed with the demonised,
and then the issue in the destruction of the herd. From
the first, as they saw the demonised, for fear of whom ' no
man might pass that way,' running to Jesus, they must
have watched with eager interest. In the clear Eastern
air not a word that was spoken could have been lost. And
now in wild terror they fled, into Gerasa — into the country
round about — to tell what had happened.
It is morning, and a new morning-sacrifice and morn
ing-Psalm are about to be offered. He that had been the
possession of foul and evil spirits — a very legion of them
— and deprived of his human individuality, is now ' sitting
at the feet of Jesus,' learning of Him, ' clothed and in his
right mind.' He has been brought to God, restored to
self, to reason, and to human society — and all this by
Jesus, at Whose Feet he is gratefully, humbly sitting, ' a
disciple.' But now from town and country have they come, who
had been startled by the tidings which those who fed the
swine had brought. It is not necessary to suppose that
their request that Jesus would depart out of their coasts
was prompted only by the loss of the herd of swine.
There could be no doubt in their minds that One possess
ing supreme and unlimited power was in their midst.
Among men superstitious, and unwilling to submit abso
lutely to the Kingdom which Christ brought, there could
only be one effect of what they had heard, and now
witnessed in the person of the healed demonised — awe and
fear ! And in such place and circumstances Jesus could
not have continued. As He entered the ship, the healed
demonised humbly, earnestly entreated that he might go
with his Saviour. It would have seemed to him as if there
were calm, safety, and happiness only in His Presence ;
not far from Him — not among those wild mountains and
yet wilder men. So too often do we reason and speak, as
regards ourselves or those we love. Not so He Who
appoints alike our discipline and our work. To go back,

The Healing of the Woman 185
now healed, to his own, and to publish there, in the city —
nay, through the whole of the large district of the ten con
federate cities, the Decapolis — how great things Jesus had
done for him, such was henceforth to be his life-work. In
this there would be both safety and happiness.
' And all men did marvel.' And presently Jesus Him
self came back into that Decapolis, where the healed
demonised had prepared the way for Him.

CHAPTER XXXV.

THE HEALING OF THE WOMAN — THE RAISING OF JAIRUS'
DAUGHTER.
(St. Matt. ix. 18-26 ; St. Mark v. 21-43 ; St. Luke viii. 40-56.)
On the shore at Capernaum many were gathered on the
morning after the storm eagerly looking out for the well-
known boat that bore the Master and His disciples. And,
as He again stepped on the shore, He was soon ' thronged,'
inconveniently pressed upon, by the crowd, eager, curious,
expectant. The tidings rapidly spread, and reached two
homes where His help was needed ; where, indeed, it alone
could now be of possible avail. The two most nearly con
cerned must have gone to seek that help about the same
time, and prompted by the same feelings of expectancy.
Both Jairus, the Ruler of the Synagogue, and the woman
suffering these many years from disease, had faith.^ But
the weakness of the one arose from excess, and threatened
to merge into superstition, while the weakness of the other
was due to defect, and threatened to end in despair. In
both cases faith had to be called out, tried, purified, and
so perfected. Jairus, one of the Synagogue-rulers of Capernaum,
had an only daughter, who at the time of this narrative
had just passed childhood, and reached the period when
Jewish Law declared a woman of age. Although St.
Matthew, contracting the whole narrative into briefest
summary, speaks of her as dead at the time of Jairus'

1 86 Jesus the Messiah
application to Jesus, the other two Evangelists, giving
fuller details, describe her as on the point of death,
literally, ' at the last breath.'
That, in view of his child's imminent death, and
with the knowledge he had of the ' mighty deeds ' com
monly reported of Jesus, Jairus should have applied to
Him, can the less surprise us when we remember how
often Jesus must, with consent and by invitation of this
Ruler, have spoken in the Synagogue, and what im
pression His words must have made. There was nothing
in what Jairus. said which a Jew in those days might
not have spoken to a Rabbi, who was regarded as Jesus
must have been by all in Capernaum who believed
not the charge, which the Judsean Pharisees had just
raised. Though we cannot point to any instance where
the laying on of a great Rabbi's hands was sought for
healing, such combined with prayer would certainly be in
entire accordance with Jewish views at the time. The
confidence in the result, expressed by the father in the
accounts of St. Mark and St. Matthew, is not mentioned
by St. Luke. And, perhaps, as being the language of an
Eastern, it should not be taken in its strict literality as
indicating actual conviction on the part of Jairus, that the
laying on of Christ's Hands would certainly restore the
maiden. Be this as it may, when Jesus followed the Ruler to
his house, the multitude ' thronging Him ' in eager
curiosity, another approached Him whose inner history
was far different from that of Jairus. The disease from
which this woman had suffered for twelve years would
render her Levitically ' unclean.' It must have been not
unfrequent in Palestine, and_ proved as intractable as
modern science has found it, to judge by the number and
variety of remedies prescribed, and by their character.
But what possesses real interest is that, in all cases where
astringents or tonics are prescribed, it is ordered that,
while the woman takes the remedy, she is to be addressed
in the words : ' Arise from thy flux.' It is not only that
psychical means are apparently to accompany the therapeu-

The Healing of the Woman 187
tical in this disease, but the coincidence in the command,
' Arise,' with the words used by Christ in raising Jairus'
daughter is striking. But here also we mark only con
trast to the magical cures of the Rabbis. For Jesus neither
used remedies, nor spoke the word ' Arise ' to her who had
come ' in the press behind ' to touch for her healing ' the
fringe of His outer garment.'
We can form an approximate idea of the outward
appearance of Jesus amidst the throng at Capernaum. He
would, we may safely assume, go about in the ordinary
although not in the more ostentatious, dress, worn by the
Jewish teachers of Galilee. His head-gear would pro
bably be a kind of turban, or perhaps a covering for the
head which descended over the back of the neck and
shoulders, somewhat like the Indian pugaree. His feet
were probably shod with sandals. His inner garment
must have been close-fitting, and descended to His feet,
since it was not only so worn by teachers, but was regarded
as absolutely necessary for anyone who would publicly
read or ' Targum ' the Scriptures, or exercise any function
in the Synagogue. As we know, it was without seam,
• st. John woven from the top throughout,3, and this closely
3DX-23 accords with the texture of these garments.
Round the middle it would be fastened with a girdle.
Over this inner He would most probably wear the square
outer garment, or Tallith, with the customary fringes of
four long white threads with one of hyacinth knotted
together at each of the four corners. There is reason to
believe that three square garments were made with these
' fringes,' although by way of ostentation, the Pharisees
made them particularly wide so as to attract attention,
* st. Matt just as they made their phylacteries broad.b Al-
X3dU- 5 though Christ only denounced the latter practice,
not the phylacteries themselves, it is impossible to believe
that Himself ever wore them, either on the forehead or the
arm. There was certainly no warrant for them in Holy
Scripture, and only Pharisaic externalism could represent
their use as fulfilling the import of Exod. xiii. 9, 16 ;
Deut. vi. 8; xi. 18. The admission that neither the

1 88 Jesus the Messiah
officiating priests, nor the representatives of the people,
wore them in the Temple, seems to imply that this prac
tice was not quite universal.
One further remark may be allowed before dismissing
this subject. Our inquiries enable us in this matter also
to confirm the accuracy of the Fourth Gospel. We read a
•st. John that the quaternion of soldiers who crucified
^ 23 Christ made division of the riches of His poverty,
taking each one part of His dress, while for the fifth,
which, if divided, would have had to be rent in pieces, they
cast lots. This incidental remark carries evidence of the
Judasan authorship of the Gospel in the accurate know
ledge which it displays. The four pieces of dress to be
divided would be the head-gear, the more expensive
sandals or shoes, the long girdle, and the coarse Tallith —
all about equal in value. And the fifth undivided and
comparatively most expensive garment, ' without seam,
woven from the top throughout,' probably of wool, as be
fitted the season of the year, was the inner garment.
We do not wonder that this Jewish woman, ' having
heard the things concerning Jesus,' with her imperfect
knowledge, in the weakness of her strong faith, thought
that, if she might but touch His garment, she would be
made whole.
We can picture her to our minds as, mingling with
those who thronged and pressed upon the Lord, she put
forth her hand and ' touched the border of His garment,'
most probably the long fringes of one of the corners of the
outer garment. We can understand how, with a disease
which not only rendered her Levitically defiling, but where
womanly shamefaced ness would make public speech so
difficult, she, thinking of Him Whose Word spoken at a
distance had brought healing, might thus seek to have her
heart's desire, Yet in the very strength of her faith lay
also its weakness. She believed so much in Him, that she
felt as if it needed not personal appeal to Him ; she felt
so deeply the hindrances to her making request of Him
self, that, believing so strongly in Him, she deemed it
sufficient to touch, not even Himself, but that which in

The Healing of the Woman 189
itself had no power nor value, except as it was in contact
with His Divine Person.
Very significantly, the Lord disappointed not her faith,
but corrected the error of its direction and manifestation.
No sooner had she so touched the border of His garment
than ' she knew in the body that she was healed of the
scourge.' No sooner, also, had she so touched the border
of His garment than He knew, ' perceived in Himself,'
what had taken place : the forthgoing of the Power that
is from out of Him.
And this was neither unconscious nor unwilled on His
part. It was caused by her faith, not by her touch. ' Thy
faith hath made thee whole.' And the question of Jesus
could not have been misleading, when ' straightway ' He
' turned Him about in the crowd and said, ' Who touched
My garments?' That He knew who had done it, and
only wished, through self-confession, to bring her to clear
ness in the exercise of her faith, appears from what is
immediately added : ' And He looked round about,' not
to see who had done it, but ' to see her that had done this
thing.' And as His look was at last fixed on her alone in
all that crowd, which, as Peter rightly said, was throng
ing and pressing Him, ' the woman saw that she was not
¦ st. Luke hid,' a and came forward to make full confession.
viu. 47 Thus, while in His mercy He had borne with her
weakness, and in His faithfulness not disappointed her
faith, its twofold error was also corrected. She learned
that it was not from the garment, but from the Saviour,
that the power proceeded ; she learned also that it was not
the touch of it, but the faith in Him, that made whole —
and such faith must ever be of personal dealing with Him.
And so He spoke to her the Word of twofold help and
assurance: 'Thy faith hath made thee whole — go forth
into peace, and be healed of thy scourge.'
Brief as is the record of this occurrence, it must have
caused considerable delay in the progress of our Lord to
the house of Jairus. For in the interval the maiden, who
had been at the last gasp when her father went to entreat
the help of Jesus, had not only died, but the house of

190 Jesus the Messiah
mourning was already filled with relatives, hired mourners,
wailing women, and musicians, in preparation for the
funeral. The intentional delay of Jesus when summoned
•st. John t° Lazarus a leads us to ask whether similar
^ 6 purpose may not have influenced His conduct in
the present instance. But even were it otherwise, no out
come of God's Providence is of chance, but each is
designed. The circumstances, which in their concurrence
make up an event, may all be of natural occurrence, but
their conjunction is of Divine ordering and to a higher
purpose, and this constitutes Divine Providence. It was
in the iaterval of this delay that the messengers came,
who informed Jairus of the actual death of his child.
Jesus overhead it, as they whispered to the Ruler not to
trouble the Rabbi any further, but He heeded it not, save
so far as it affected the father. The emphatic admonition,
not to fear, only to believe, gives us an insight into the
threatening failure of the Ruler's faith ; perhaps, also, into
the motive which prompted the delay of Christ. The
utmost need, which would henceforth require the utmost
faith on the part of Jairus, had now come. But into that
which was to pass within the house no stranger must
intrude. Even of the Apostles only those, who now for the
first time became, and henceforth continued, the innermost
circle, might witness what was about to take place.
Within, ' the tumult ' and weeping, the wail of the
mourners, real or hired, and the melancholy sound of the
mourning flutes — sad preparation for, and pageantry of,
an Eastern funeral — broke discordantly on the calm of
assured victory over death, with which Jesus had entered
the house of mourning. But even so He would tell them
that the damsel was not dead, but only sleeping. The
Rabbis also frequently have the expression ' to sleep '
(when the sleep is overpowering and oppressive), instead
of ' to die.' It may well have been that Jesus made use
of this word of double meaning in some such manner as
this : ' the maiden sleepeth.' And they understood Him
well in their own way, yet understood Him not at all.
For did they not verily know that she had actually

THE RAISING OF JAIRUS' DAUGHTER.

The Raising of Jairus' Daughter 191
died, even before the messengers had been despatched to
prevent the needless trouble of His coming ? Yet even
this their scorn served a higher purpose. For it showed
these two things : that to the certain belief of those in
the house the maiden was really dead, and that the Gospel-
writers regarded the raising of the dead as not only beyond
the ordinary range of Messianic activity, but as something
miraculous even among the miracles of Christ.
The first thing to be done by Christ was to ' put out '
the mourners, whose proper place this house no longer
was, and who by their conduct had proved themselves unfit
to be witnesses of'Christ's great manifestation. The im
pression which the narrative leaves on the mind is that
all this while the father of the maiden was stupefied,
passive rather than active in the matter. The great fear,
which had come upon him when the messengers ap
prised him of his only child's death, seemed still to numb
his faith. Christ now led the father and the mother into the
chamber where the dead maiden lay, followed by the three
Apostles, witnesses of His chiefest working and of His
utmost earthly glory, but also of His inmost sufferings.
Without doubt or hesitation He took her by the hand,
and spoke only these two words : Talyetha Qum [Kum]
Maiden, arise ! ' And straightway the damsel arose.' But
the great astonishment which came upon them, as well as
the ' strait charge ' that no man should know it, are further
evidence, if such were required, how little their faith had
been prepared for that which in its weakness was granted
to it. And thus Jesus, as He had formerly corrected in
the woman that weakness of faith which came through
very excess, so now in the Ruler of the Synagogue the
weakness which was by failure.

192 fEsus the Messiah

CHAPTER XXXVI.
SECOND VISIT TO NAZARETH — THE MISSION OF THE TWELVE.
(St. Matt. xiii. 54-58; x. 1, 5-42; xi. 1; St. Mark vi. 1-13;
St.Lukeix.1-6.)
How Jesus conveyed Himself away from Capernaum,
whether through another entrance into the house, or by
' the road of the roofs,' we are not told. But assuredly He
must have avoided the multitude. Presently we find Him
far from Capernaum. Probably He had left it immediately
on quitting the house of Jairus.
It almost seems as if the departure of Jesus from the
town marked a crisis in its history. From henceforth it
ceases to be the centre of His activity, and is only occa
sionally, and in passing, visited. Indeed, the concentra
tion and growing power of Pharisaic opposition, and the
proximity of Herod's residence at Tiberias, would have
rendered a permanent stay there impossible at this stage
in our Lord's history. Henceforth, He has no certain
dwelling-place : in His own language, ' He hath not where
to lay His Head.'
• st. Mark The notice in St. Mark's Gospel,3- that His
¦"¦! disciples followed Him, seems to connect the
arrival of Jesus in ' His own country ' (at Nazareth) with
the departure from the house of Jairus, into which He had
allowed only three of His Apostles to accompany Him.
The circumstances of the present visit, as well as the tone
of His countrymen at this time, are entirely different from
what is recorded of His former sojourn at Nazareth.b
* st. Luke Nazareth would have ceased to be Nazareth, had
iv. 16-31 its people felt or spoken otherwise than they had
before. That His fame had so grown in the interval
would only stimulate the conceit of the village-town.
And now He had come back to them, after nine or ten
months, in totally different circumstances. No one could
any longer question His claims, whether for good or for

The Mission of the Twelve 195
evil. As on the Sabbath He stood up once more in that
Synagogue to teach, they were astonished. But their
astonishment was that of unbelief. Whence had ' this
One ' ' these things,' ' and what the wisdom which ' was
¦stMark ' given to this One — and these mighty works
«• 2 done by His Hands ? ' a
'And He marvelled because of their unbelief.' In
view of their own reasoning -it was most unreasonable.
But it would have been impossible for Christ to have
finally given up His own town of Nazareth without one
further appeal and one further opportunity for repentance.
As He had begun, so He closed this part of His Galilean
Ministry, by preaching in His own Synagogue of Nazareth.
Save in the case of a few who were receptive, on whom He
laid His Hands for healing. His visit passed away without
such ' mighty works ' as the Nazarenes had heard of. He
will not return again to Nazareth. Henceforth He will
make commencement of sending forth His disciples. For
His Heart compassionated the many who were ignorant
and out of the way.
Viewing the discourse with which Christ now sent out
»st Mattx. tne Twelve in its fullest form,bit is to be noted
5 to the end that it consists of five parts : w. 5 to 15 ; vv. 16
to 23 ; w. 24 to 33 ; w. 34 to 39 ; vv. 40 to the end.
«st Matt. I*s ^rst Parfcc applies entirely to this first
x. 5-15 Mission of the Twelve, although the closing words
point forward to ' the judgment.' d Accordingly it has its
a ver. 15 parallels, although in briefer form, in the other
^Vnaf tw0 Cospels.e
stLuke 1. The Twelve were to go forth two and two/
<lt. Mark furnished with authority— or, as St. Luke more
"' 7 fully expresses it, with ' power and authority ' —
alike over all demons and to heal all manner of diseases.
The special commission, for which they received such
power, was to proclaim the nea,r advent of the Kingdom,
and, in manifestation as well as in evidence of it, to heal
the sick, cleanse the lepers, and cast out demons. They
were to speak good and to do good in the highest sense,
and that in a manner which all would feel to be good : freely, o

194 Jesus the Messiah
even as they had received it. Again, they were not to
make any special provision for their journey, beyond the
absolute immediate present. They were but labourers,
yet as such they had claim to support. Their Employer
would provide, and the field in which they worked might
•comp. for well be expected to supply it.a
aspecttter Before entering into a city, they were to
1 Tim. v. is malje inquiry, literally to ' search out,' who in it
was ' worthy,' and of them to ask hospitality ; not seeking
during their stay a change for the gratification of vanity or
for self-indulgence. If the report on which they had made
choice of a host proved true, then the ' Peace with thee !
with which they had entered their temporary home, would
become a reality. Christ would make it such.
But even if the house should prove unworthy, the
Lord would none the less own the words of His messengers
and make them real ; only, in such case the ' Peace with
thee ! ' would return to them who had spoken it. Yet
another case was possible. The house to which their
inquiries had led them, or the city into which they had
entered, might refuse to receive them, because they came
as Christ's ambassadors. Greater, indeed, would be their
guilt than that of the Cities of the Plain, since these had
not known the character of the heavenly guests to whom
they refused reception ; and more terrible would be their
future punishment. So Christ would vindicate their
authority as well as His own, and show the reality of their
commission : on the one hand, by making their word of
peace a reality to those who had proved ' worthy ; ' and,
on the other, by punishment if their message were refused.
Lastly, in their present Mission they were not to touch
either Gentile or Samaritan territory. This direction — so
different in spirit from what Jesus Himself had previously
said and done, and from their own later commission — was.
of course, only ' for the present necessity.' It would have
been a fatal anticipation of their inner and outer history
to have attempted more, and it would have defeated the
object of our Lord of disarming prejudices when making a
final appeal to the Jews of Galilee.

The Mission of the Twelve 195
Even these considerations lead us to expect a strictly
Jewish cast in this Discourse to the Disciples. The com
mand to abstain from any religious fellowship with Gentiles
and Samaritans was in temporary accommodation to the
prejudices of His disciples and of the Jews. And the dis
tinction between ' the way of the Gentiles ' and ' any city
of the Samaritans ' is the more significant, when we bear
in mind that even the dust of a heathen road was regarded
as defiling, while the houses, springs, roads, and certain
food of the Samaritans were declared clean. At the same
time, religiously and as regarded fellowship, the Samaritans
were placed on the same footing with Gentiles. Nor
would the injunction, to impart their message freely, sound
strange in Jewish ears. It was, in fact, what the Rabbis
themselves most earnestly enjoined in regard to the teach
ing of the Law and traditions, however different their prac
tice may have been. Indeed, the very argument that they
were to impart freely, because they had received freely, is
employed by the Rabbis, and derived from the language
and example of Moses in Deut. iv. 5. Again, the direc
tions about not taking staff, shoes, nor money-purse,
exactly correspond to the Rabbinic injunction not to enter
the Temple-precincts with staff, shoes (mark, not sandals),
and a money-girdle. The symbolic reasons underlying
this command would, in both cases, be probably the same:
to avoid even the appearance of being engaged on other
business, when the whole being should be absorbed in the
service of the Lord. Nor could they be in doubt what
severity of final punishment a doom heavier than that of
Sodom and Gomorrah would imply, since, according to
early tradition, their inhabitants were to have no part in
the world to come. And most impressive to a Jewish mind
would be the symbolic injunction, to shake off the dust of
their feet for a testimony against such a house or city. The
expression, no doubt, indicated that the ban of the Lord
was resting on it, and the symbolic act would, as it were,
be the solemn pronouncing that ' nought of the cursed
• Deut. xiii. thing ' clave to them.a In this sense, anything
17 that clave to a person was metaphorically called
o2

196 Jesus the Messiah
' the dust,' as, for example, ' the dust of an evil tongue,'
' the dust of usury,' as, on the other hand, to ' dust to
idolatry ' meant to cleave to it. Even the injunction not
to change the dwelling, where a reception had been given,
was in accordance with Jewish views, the example of Abra-
• According kam heing quoted, who" ' returned to the place
to Gen. xiii. where his tent had been at the beginning.'
»st Matt. x. These remarks show how closely the Lord
• st Matt x. followed, in this first part of His charge to the
16-23 disciples,b Jewish forms of thinking and modes of
expression. It is not otherwise in the second,0 although the
difference is here very marked. We have no longer merely
the original commission, as it is given in almost the same
terms by St. Mark and St. Luke. But the horizon is now
enlarged, and St. Matthew reports that which the other
Evangelists record at a later stage of the Lord's Ministry.
Without here anticipating the full inquiry into the
promise of His immediate Coming, it is important to
avoid, even at this stage, any possible misunderstanding on
the point. The expectation of the Coming of ' the Son of
4 Dan. vii. Man ' was grounded on a prophecy of Daniel,d in
13 which that Advent, or rather manifestation, was
associated with judgment. The same is the case in this
charge of our Lord. The disciples in their work are de
scribed ' as sheep in the midst of wolves,' a phrase which
the Midrash applies to the position of Israel amidst a
hostile world, adding : How great is that Shepherd, Who
delivers them, and vanquishes the wolves! Similarly,
the admonition to ' be wise as serpents and harmless as
doves' is reproduced in the Midrash, where Israel is de
scribed as harmless as the dove towards God, and wise as
serpents towards the hostile Gentile nations. Such and
even greater would be the enmity which the disciples, as
the true Israel, would have to encounter from Israel after
the flesh. They would be handed over to the various
•Sanhedrin, and visited with such punishments as these
• stMattx tribunals had power to inflict.e More than this,
ir ' they would be brought before governors and
kings — primarily, the Roman governors and the Hero-

The Mission of the Twelve 197
dian princes.8- And so determined would be this persecu
tion, as to break the ties of the closest kinship, and to bring
• st. Matt. x. on tnem tne hatred of all men.b The only support
is in those terrible circumstances was the assurance
D yy, 21 22 of such help from above, that, although unlearned
and humble, they need have no care, nor make preparation
in their defence. And with this they had the promise
that he who endured to the end would be saved, and the
prudential direction, so far as possible, to avoid persecution
by timely withdrawal, which could be the more readily
achieved, since they would not have completed their circuit
of the cities of Israel before the ' Son of Man be come.'
It is of the greatest importance to keep in view that,
at whatever period of Christ's Ministry this prediction and
promise were spoken, and whether only once or oftener,
they refer exclusively to a Jewish state of things. The
persecutions are exclusively Jewish. This appears from
verse 18, where the answer of the disciples is promised to
be ' for a testimony against them,' who had delivered them
up,- that is, here, evidently the Jews, as also against ' the
Gentiles.' And the Evangelistic circuit of the disciples
in their preaching was to be primarily Jewish ; and not
only so, but in the time when there were still ' cities of
Israel,' that is, previous to the final destruction of the Jew
ish commonwealth. The reference, then, is to that period of
Jewish persecution and of Apostolic preaching in the cities
of Israel, which is bounded by the destruction of Jerusalem.
Accordingly, the ' Coming of the Son of Man,' and ' the
end ' here spoken of, must also have the same application.
It was, as we have seen, according to Dan. vii. 13, a coming
in judgment. To the Jewish persecuting authorities, who
had rejected the Christ, in order, as they imagined, to save
° st. John their City and Temple from the Romans,0 and to
xi. is whom Christ had testified that He would come
again, this judgment on their city and state, this destruc
tion of their polity, was ' the Coming of the Son of Man '
in judgment, and the only coming which the Jews, as a
state, could expect.
The disciples must have the more readily applied this

198 Jesus the Messiah
prediction of His Coming to Palestine, since 'the woes'
connected with it so closely corresponded to those expected
by the Jews before the Advent of Messiah. Even the
direction to flee from persecution is repeated by the Rabbis
in similar circumstances, and established by the example
of Jacob, of Moses, and of David.
In the next section of this Discourse of our Lord,
• st Matt x. as reported by St. Matthew,3- the horizon is
24-34 enlarged. The statements are still primarily ap
plicable to the early disciples, and their preaching among
the Jews and in Palestine. But their ultimate bearing is
already wider, and includes predictions and principles true
to all time. In view of the treatment which their Master
received, the disciples must expect misrepresentation and
evil-speaking. Nor could it seem strange to them, since
even the common Rabbinic proverb had it : 'It is enough
for a servant to be as his lord.' As we hear it from the
lips of Christ, we remember that this saying afterwards
comforted those who mourned the downfall of wealthy
and liberal homes in Israel, by thoughts of the greater
calamity which had overthrown Jerusalem and the Temple.
And very significant is its application by Christ : ' If they
have called the Master of the house Beelzebul, how much
more them of His household.'
But they were not to fear such misrepresentations. In
due time the Lord would make manifest both His and
»st Matt. x. their true character .b Nor were they to be de-
26 terred from announcing in the clearest and most
public manner, in broad daylight, and from the flat roofs
of houses, that which had been first told them in the dark
ness, as Jewish teachers communicated the deepest and
highest doctrines in secret to their disciples, or as the
preacher would whisper his discourse into the ear of the
interpreter. But, from a much higher point of view, how
different was the teaching of Christ from that of the
Rabbis ! The latter laid it down as a principle, which
0 Lev. xviii. they tried to prove from Scripture,0 that, in
B- order to save one's life, it was not only lawful,
but even duty, if necessary, to commit any kind of sin,

The Mission of the Twelve 199
except idolatry, incest, or murder. Nay, even idolatry was
allowed, if only it were done in secret, so as not to pro
fane the Name of the Lord — than which death was in
finitely preferable. Christ, on the other hand, not only
ignored this vicious Jewish distinction of public and
private as regarded morality, but bade His followers set
aside all regard for personal safety, even in reference to
the duty of preaching the Gospel. There was a higher
fear than of men : that of God — and it should drive out
the fear of those who could only kill the body. Besides,
why fear? God's Providence extended even over the
meanest of His creatures. Two sparrows cost only about
the third of a penny. Yet even^one of them would not
perish without the knowledge of God. No illustration
was more familiar to the Jewish mind than that of His
watchful care even over the sparrows.
Nor could even the additional promise of Christ:
' But of you even the hairs of the head are all numbered,'
surprise His disciples. But it would convey to them the
assurance that, in doing His Work, they were performing
the Will of God, and were specially in His keeping. And
it would carry home to them what Rabbinism expressed
in a realistic manner by the common sayings, that whither
a man was to go, thither his feet would carry him ; and,
that a man could not injure his finger on earth, unless it
had been so decreed of him in heaven. And in later
Rabbinic writings we read, in almost the words of Christ :
' Do I not number all the hairs of every creature ? ' And
yet an even higher outlook was opened to the disciples.
All preaching was confessing, and all confessing a preach
ing of Christ ; and our confession or denial would, almost
by a law of nature, meet with similar confession or denial
on the part of Christ before His Father in heaven. This,
also, was an application of that fundamental principle,
that ' nothing is covered that shall not be revealed.'
• stMattx. What follows in our Lord's Discourse4 still
34 further widens the horizon. It describes the
condition and laws of His Kingdom, until the final revela
tion of that which is now covered and hidden. So long

200 Jesus the Messiah
as His claims were set before a hostile world, they could
only provoke war. On the other hand, so long as such
decision was necessary, in the choice of either those nearest
and dearest, of ease, nay, of life itself, or else of Christ,
there could be no compromise. Not that, as is sometimes
erroneously supposed, a very great degree of love to the
dearest on earth amounts to loving them more than Christ.
The love which Christ condemneth differs not in degree,
but in kind, from rightful affection. It is one which takes
the place of love to Christ — not which is placed by the
side of that of Christ. For, rightly viewed, the two
occupy different provinces. Wherever and whenever the
two affections come into* comparison, they also come into
collision. And so the questions of not being worthy of
Him, and of the true finding or losing of our life, have
their bearing on our daily life and profession.
But even in this respect the disciples must, to some
extent, have been prepared to receive the teaching of
Christ. It was generally expected that a time of great
tribulation would precede the Advent of the Messiah.
Again, it was a Rabbinic axiom that the cause of the
teacher, to whom a man owed eternal life, was to be
taken in hand before that of his father, to whom he owed
only the life of this world. Even the statement about
taking up the Cross in following Christ, although pro
phetic, could not sound quite strange. Crucifixion was,
indeed, not a Jewish punishment, but the Jews must have
become sadly familiar with it. Indeed, the expression
' bearing the cross,' as indicative of sorrow and suffering,
is so common, that we read, Abraham carried the wood
for the sacrifice of Isaac, ' like one who bears his cross on
his shoulder.'Nor could the disciples be in doubt as to the meaning
• stMatt. of the last part of Christ's address.1 They were
x. 40-42 0ift jewish forms of thought, only filled with the
new wine of the Gospel. The Rabbis taught, but in
extravagant terms, the merit attaching to the reception
and entertainment of sages. The very expression ' in the
name of a prophet, or a righteous man, is strictly Jewish,

The Mission of the Twelve 201
and means for the sake of, or with intention in regard to.
It appears to us that Christ introduced His own dis
tinctive teaching by the admitted Jewish principle, that
hospitable reception for the sake of, or with the intention
of doing it to, a prophet or a righteous man, would pro
cure a share in the prophet's or righteous man's reward.
Thus, tradition had it that the Obadiah of King Ahab's
• 1 Kings court " had become the prophet of that name,
rvm-4 because he had provided for the hundred pro
phets. And we are repeatedly assured that to receive
a sage, or even an elder, was like receiving the Shekhinah
itself. But the concluding promise of Christ, concerning
the reward of even ' a cup of cold water ' to ' one of these
little ones ' ' in the name of a disciple,' goes far beyond
the farthest conceptions of His contemporaries. Yet, even
so, the expression would, so far as its form is concerned,
perhaps bear a fuller meaning to them than to us. These
'little ones' were 'the children,' who were still learning
the elements of knowledge, and who would by-and-by
grow into ' disciples.' For, as the Midrash has it : ' Where
there are no little ones, there are no disciples ; and where
no disciples, no sages ; where no sages, there no elders ;
where no elders, there no prophets; and where no pro
phets, there does God not cause His Shekhinah to rest.'
We have been particular in marking the Jewish parallel
isms in this Discourse, first, because it seemed important
to show that the words of the Lord were not beyond the
comprehension of the disciples. Starting from forms of
thought and expressions with which they were familiar,
He earned them far beyond Jewish ideas and hopes. But,
secondly, it is just in this similarity of form, which proves
that it was of the time and to the time, as well as to us
and to all times, that we best see how far the teaching of
Christ transcended all contemporary conception.

202 Jesus the Messiah

CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE BAPTIST'S LAST TESTIMONY TO JESUS, AND HIS
BEHEADING IN PRISON.
(1. St. John iii. 25-30. 2. St. Matt. ix. 14-17; St. Mark ii. 18-22; St.
Luke v. 33-39. 3. St. Matt. xi. 2-14; St. Luke vii. 18-35. 4. St.
Matt. xiv. 1-12 ; St. Mark vi. 14-29 ; St. Luke ix. 7-9.)
While the Apostles went forth by two and two on their
first Mission, Jesus Himself taught and preached in the
• st. Matt towns around Capernaum. a This period of un-
fst. Mark disturbed activity seems, however, to have been
st'.Lukek of brief duration. That it was eminently suc-
6 cessful, we infer not only from direct notices,1"
but also from the circumstance that, for the first time, the
attention of Herod Antipas was now called to the Person
of Jesus. We suppose that, during the nine or ten
months of Christ's Galilean Ministry, the Tetrarch had
resided in his Persean dominions (east of the Jordan),
either at Julias or at Machserus, in which latter fortress
the Baptist was beheaded. We infer that the labours of
the Apostles had also extended thus far, since they at
tracted the notice of Herod. In the popular excitement
caused by the execution of the Baptist, the miraculous
activity of the messengers of the Christ Whom John had
announced, would naturally attract wider interest, while
Antipas would, under the influence of fear and supersti
tion, give greater heed to them. We can scarcely be
mistaken in supposing that this accounts for the abrupt
termination of the labours of the Apostles, and their re
turn to Jesus. At any rate, the arrival of the disciples
of John, with tidings of their master's death, and the
return of the Apostles, seem to have been contempora-
• st. Matt neous.0 Finally, we conjecture that it was
ttMarkvl. among the motives which influenced the re-
30 moval of Christ and His Apostles from Caper
naum. Temporarily to withdraw Himself and His dis-

The Baptist in Prison 203
ciples from Herod, to give them a season of rest and
further preparation after the excitement of the last few
weeks, and to avoid being involved in the popular move
ments consequent on the murder of the Baptist — such we
may venture to indicate as among the reasons of the de
parture of Jesus and His disciples, first into the dominions
• st. John of the Tetrarch Philip, on the eastern side of the
"st. Mark Lake,a and after that ' into the borders of Tyre
^ 2i and Sidon.' b Thus the fate of the Baptist was,
as might have been expected, decisive in its influence on
the History of the Christ and of His Kingdom. But we
have yet to trace the incidents in the life of John, -so far
as recorded in the Gospels, from the time of his last con
tact with Jesus to his execution.
«st. John !• I* wasc in the early summer of the year
ui. 22 to iv. 3 27 of our era, that John was baptizing in ^Enon,
near to Salim. In the neighbourhood Jesus and His
disciples were similarly engaged. The Presence and
«st. John u. activity of Jesus in Jerusalem at the Passover3
13 to in. 21 ba(j determined the Pharisaic party to take active
measures against Him and His Forerunner, John. As the
first outcome of this plan we notice the discussions on the
question of 'purification,' and the attempt to separate
between Christ and the Baptist by exciting the jealousy of
• st. John the latter .e "But the result was far different. His
m. 25 &c. disciples might have been influenced, but John
himself was too true a man, and too deeply convinced of
the reality of Christ's, Mission, to yield even for a moment
to such temptation.
It was not the greatness of the Christ, to his own
seeming loss, which could cloud the Baptist's convictions.
In simple Judsean illustration, he was only ' the friend of
the Bridegroom,' with all that popular association or higher
Jewish allegory connected with that relationship. He
claimed not the bride. His was another joy — that of
hearing the Voice of her rightful Bridegroom, Whose
' groomsman ' he was. In the sound of that Voice lay the
fulfilment of his office.
2. The scene has changed, and the Baptist has become

204 Jesus the Messiah
the prisoner of Herod Antipas. The dominions of the
latter embraced, in the north : Galilee, west of the Jordan
and of the Lake of Galilee ; and in the south : Persea, east
of the Jordan. To realise events we must bear in mind
that, crossing the Lake eastwards, we should pass from the
possessions of Herod to those of the Tetrarch Philip, or
else come upon the territory of the ' Ten Cities ' or
Decapolis, a kind of confederation of townships, with con
stitution and liberties, such as those of the Grecian cities.
By a narrow strip northwards, Peraea just slipped in
between the Decapolis and Samaria. It is impossible with
certainty to localise the ^Enon, near Salim, where John
baptized. We believe that the place was close to, perhaps
actually in, the north-eastern angle of the province of
Judaea, where it borders on Samaria. We are now on the
western bank of Jordan. The other, or eastern, bank of
the river would be that narrow northern strip of Pereea
which formed part of the territory of Antipas. Thus a few
miles, or the mere crossing of the river, would have brought
the Baptist into Pertea. There can be no doubt but that
the Baptist must either have crossed into, or else that
^Bnon, near Salim, was actually within the dominions of
Herod. It was on that occasion that Herod seized on his
• st. John person,3 and that Jesus, Who was still within
"st.4john Judasan territory, withdrew from the intrigues of
¦"• l the Pharisees and the proximity of Herod, through
Samaria, into Galilee.b
Supposing Antipas to have been at his palace in the
Perasan Julias, he would have been in close proximity to
the scene of the Baptist's last recorded labours at .ZEnon.
We can now understand, not only how John was im
prisoned by Antipas, but also the threefold motives which
influenced it. According to Josephus, the Tetrarch was
afraid that his absolute influence over the people, who
seemed disposed to carry out whatever he advised, might
lead to a rebellion. This circumstance is also indicated in
« st. Matt the remark of St. Matthew " that Herod was
**T- 6 afraid to put the Baptist to death on account of
the people's opinion of him. On the other hand, the

The Baptist in Prison 205
• st Matt Evangelic statement a that Herod had imprisoned
stMarkvi. John on account of his declaring his marriage
17, is with Herodias unlawful, is in no way inconsistent
with the reason assigned by Josephus. Not only might
both motives have influenced Herod, but there is an
obvious connection between them. For John's open
declaration of the unlawfulness of Herod's marriage, as
alike incestuous and adulterous, might, in view of the
influence which the Baptist exercised, have easily led to a
rebellion. The reference to the Pharisaic spying and to
their comparisons between the influence of Jesus and of
b stjonniv. John,b which led to the withdrawal of Christ
1»s into Galilee, seems to imply that the Pharisees
had something to do with the imprisonment of John.
Their connection with Herod appears even more clearly in
the attempt to induce Christ's departure from Galilee, on
pretext of Herod's machinations. It will be remembered
that the Lord unmasked their hypocrisy by bidding them
go back to Herod, showing that He fully knew that real
danger threatened Him, not from the Tetrarch, but from
• st. Luke the leaders of the party in Jerusalem.0 Our
xifl. 31-33 inference, therefore, is that Pharisaic intrigue
had a very large share in giving effect to Herod's fear of
the Baptist and of his reproofs.
3. Machaerus (the modern Mkhaur) marked the extreme
point south, as Pella that north, in Persea. As the
boundary fortress in the south-east (towards Arabia), its
safety was of the greatest importance, and everything was
done to make a place, exceedingly strong by nature,
impregnable. ' A rugged line of upturned squared stones ' shows the
old Roman paved road leading to the fortress, in which,
according to Josephus, the Baptist was confined. Ruins
covering quite a square mile, on a group of undulating
hills, mark the site of the ancient town of Machserus.
Although surrounded by a wall and towers, its position is
supposed not to have been strategically defensible. Only
a mass of ruins here, with traces of a temple to the Syrian
Sun-God, broken cisterns, and desolateness all around.

206 Jesus the Messiah
Crossing a narrow deep valley, about a mile wide, we
climb up to the ancient fortress on a conical hill. Altogether
it covered a ridge of more than a mile. The key of the
position was a citadel to the extreme east of the fortress.
It occupied the summit of the cone, was isolated, and
almost impregnable, but very small. Descending a steep
slope about 150 yards towards the west, we reach the
oblong flat plateau that formed the fortress, containing
Herod's magnificent palace.
No traces of the royal palace are left, save foundations
and enormous stones upturned. Within the area of the
keep are a well of great depth, and a deep cemented
cistern with the vaulting of the roof still complete, and two
dungeons, one of them deep down, its sides scarcely broken
in, ' with small holes still visible in the masonry where
staples of wood and iron had once been fixed.' As we look
down into its hot darkness, we shudder in realising that
this terrible keep had for nigh ten months been the prison
of that son of the free ' wilderness,' the bold herald of the
coming Kingdom, the humble, earnest, self-denying John
the Baptist.
4. In these circumstances we scarcely wonder at the
feelings of John's disciples, as months of his weary
captivity passed. Uncertain what to expect, they seem
to have oscillated between Machaerus and Capernaum.
Any hope of their Master's vindication and deliverance lay
in the possibilities involved in the announcement he had
made of Jesus as the Christ. And it was to Him that
their Master's finger had pointed them. Indeed, some of
Jesus' earliest and most intimate disciples had come from
their ranks ; and, as themselves had remarked, the multi
tude had turned to Jesus even before the Baptist's im-
• st. John prisonment.a And yet, in their view, there must
m- 26 have been a terrible contrast between him who
lay in the dungeon of Macheerus, and Him Who sat down
to eat and drink at a feast of the publicans.
His reception of publicans and sinners they could
understand ; their own Master had not rejected them. But
why eat and drink with them ? Was not fasting always,

The Baptist in Prison 207
but more especially now, appropriate ? The Pharisees, in
their anxiety to separate between Jesus and His Fore
runner, must have told them all this again and again, and
pointed to the contrast.
At any rate, it was at the instigation of the Pharisees,
and in company with them, that the disciples of John pro
pounded to Jesus this question about fasting and prayer,
immediately after the feast in the house of the converted
Levi-Matthew .a We must bear in mind that
ix. 14-17 " fasting and prayer, or else fasting and alms, or
para es ^ ^g three, were always combined. Fasting
represented the negative, prayer and alms the positive
element, in the forgiveness of sins. Fasting, as self-
punishment and mortification, would avert the anger of
God and calamities. Most extraordinary instances of the
purposes in view in fasting, and of the results obtained,
are told in Jewish legend, which (as will be remembered)
went so far as to relate how a Jewish saint was thereby
rendered proof against the fire of Gehenna, of which a
realistic demonstration was given when his body was
rendered proof against ordinary fire.
To the Jews, fasting was the readiest means of turning
aside any threatening calamity, such as drought, pesti
lence, or national danger. The second and fifth days of
the week (Monday and Thursday) were those appointed
for public fasts, because Moses was supposed to have gone
up the Mount for the second Tables of the Law on a
Thursday, and to have returned on a Monday.
It may well have been that it was on one of these
weekly fasts that the feast of Levi-Matthew had taken
place, and that this explains the expression : ' And John's
„ st Mark disciples and the Pharisees were fasting.' b This
•i- 18 would give point to their complaint, ' Thy
disciples fast not.' Looking back upon the standpoint
from which they viewed fasting, it is easy to perceive
why Jesus could not have sanctioned, nor even tole
rated, the practice, among His disciples, as little as St.
Paul could tolerate among Judaising Christians the, in
itself indifferent, practice of circumcision. But it was

208 Jesus the Messiah
not so easy to explain this at the time to the disciples of
John. The last recorded testimony of the Baptist had pointed
• st. John to Christ as ' the Bridegroom.' a As explained
m-s> in a previous chapter, John applied this in a
manner which appealed to popular custom. As he had
pointed out, the Presence of Jesus marked the marriage-
week. By universal consent and according to Rabbinic
law, this was to be a time of unmixed festivity. During
the marriage-week all mourning was to be suspended —
even the obligation of the prescribed daily prayers ceased.
It was regarded as a religious duty to gladden the bride
and bridegroom. Was it not, then, inconsistent on the
part of John's disciples to expect ' the sons of the bride-
chamber' to fast, so long as the Bridegroom was with
them ?
But let it not be thought that it was to be a time of
unbroken joy to the disciples of Jesus. The Bridegroom
would be violently taken from them, and then would be
the time for mourning and fasting. Not that this neces
sarily implies literal fasting, any more than it excludes it,
provided the great principles, more fully indicated imme
diately afterwards, are kept in view. Painfully minute,
Judaistic self-introspection is contrary to the spirit of the
joyous hberty of the children of God. It is only a sense of
sin, and the felt absence of the Christ, which should lead to
mourning and fasting, though not in order thereby to avert
either the anger of God or outward calamity.
In general, the two illustrations employed — that of the
piece of undressed cloth (or, according to St. Luke, a piece
torn from a new garment) sewed upon the rent of an old
garment, and that of the new wine put into the old wine
skins — must not be too closely pressed in regard to their
language. They seem chiefly to imply this: You ask,
why do we fast often, but Thy disciples fast not ? You are
mistaken in supposing that the old garment can be re
tained, and merely its rents made good by patching it
with a piece of new cloth. The old garment will not bear
mending with the ' undressed cloth.' Christ's was net

The Baptist in Prison 209
merely a reformation : all things must become new. Or,
again, take the other view of it — the new wine of the
Kingdom cannot be confined in the old forms. It would
burst those wine-skins. The spirit must, indeed, have its
corresponding form of expression ; but that form must be
adapted, and correspond to it. Such are the two final
principles — the one primarily addressed to the Pharisees,
the other to the disciples of John, by which the illustrative
teaching concerning the marriage-feast, with its bridal
garment and wine of banquet, is carried beyond the
original question of the disciples of John, and receives an
application to all time.
5. Weeks had passed, and the disciples of John had come
back and showed their Master of all these things. He
still lay in the dungeon of Machaerus ; his circumstances
unchanged — perhaps, more hopeless than before. For
Herod was in that spiritually most desperate state : he
had heard the Baptist, and was much perplexed. This we
can understand, since he ' feared him, knowing that he
was a righteous man and holy,' and thus fearing ' heard
him.' But that, being ' much perplexed,' he still ' heard
• st. Mark him gladly,' a constituted the hopelessness of his
¦"¦ 20 case. But was the Baptist right ? Did it con
stitute part of his Divine calling to have not only de
nounced, but apparently directly confronted Herod on his
adulterous marriage ? Had he not attempted to lift him
self the axe which seemed to have slipt from the grasp of
Him, of Whom the Baptist had hoped and said that He
would lay it to the root of the tree ?
Such thoughts may have been with him, as he passed
from his dungeon to the audience of Herod, and from such
bootless interviews back to his deep keep. Strange as it
may seem, it was, perhaps, better for the Baptist when
he was alone. The state of mind and experience of his
disciples has already appeared, even in the slight notices
concerning them. Indeed, had they fully understood him,
and not ended where he began — which, truly, is the
characteristic of all sects — they would not have remained
his disciples. Their very affection for him, and their zeal
P

210 Jesus the Messiah
for his credit (as shown in the almost coarse language of
their inquiry : ' John the Baptist hath sent us unto Thee,
saying, Art Thou He that cometh, or look we for another ? '),
as well as their tenacity of unprogressiveness— were all, so
to speak, marks of his failure. And if he had failed with
them, had he succeeded in anything ?
And yet further and more searching questions rose in
that dark dungeon. What if after all there had been
some horrible mistake on his part ? At any rate the logic
of events was against him. He was now the fast prisoner
of that Herod, to whom he had spoken with authority ; in
the power of that bold adulteress, Herodias. If he were
Elijah, the great Tishbite had never been in the hands of
Ahab and Jezebel. And the Messiah, Whose Elijah he
was, moved not ; could not, or would not, move, but
feasted with publicans and sinners ! Was it all a reality ?
It must have been a terrible hour, and the power of dark
ness. At the end of a life, and that of such self-denial and
suffering, and with a conscience so alive to God, which had
— when a youth — driven him burning with holy zeal into
the wilderness, to have the question meeting him : Art
Thou He, or do we wait for another ?
In that conflict John overcame, as we all must over
come. His very despair opened the door of hope. The
helpless doubt, which none could solve but One, he brought
to Him around Whom it had gathered. When John
asked the question : Do we wait for another ? light was
already struggling through darkness. It was incipient
victory even in defeat. When he sent his disciples with
this question straight to Christ, he had already conquered ;
for such a question addressed to a possibly false Messiah
had no meaning.
The designation ' The Coming One,' though a most
truthful expression of Jewish expectancy, was not one
ordinarily used of the Messiah. But it was invariably
used in reference to the Messianic age as the coming world
or ^Eon. In the mouth of John it might therefore mean
chiefly this : Art Thou He that is to establish the
Messianic Kingdom in its outward power, or have we to

The Baptist in Prison 211
wait for another ? In that case, the manner in which the
Lord answered it would be all the more significant. The
messengers came just as He was engaged in healing body
» st. Luke and soul.a Without interrupting His work, or
vii 21 j_i * •
otherwise noticing their inquiry, He bade them
tell John for answer what they had seen and heard, and
» st. Matt that ' the poor b are evangelised.' To this, as the
inmost characteristic of the Messianic Kingdom,
He only added, not by way of reproof nor even of warning,
but as a fresh ' Beatitude ' : ' Blessed is he, whosoever
shall not be scandalised in Me.' And such knowledge
of Christ's distinctive Work and Word is the only true
answer to our questions, whether of head or heart.
But a harder saying than this did the Lord speak
amidst the forthpouring of His testimony to John, when
his messengers had left. He to Whom John had formerly
borne testimony now bore testimony to him ; and that,
not in the hour when John had testified for Him, but when
his testimony had wavered and almost failed. Again we
mark that the testimony of Christ is as from a higher
standpoint. And it is a full vindication as well as unstinted
praise, spoken, not as in his hearing, but after his
messengers — who had met a seemingly cold reception — -
had left.
6. The scene once more changes, and we are again at
Machserus. Weeks have passed since the return of John's
messengers. We cannot doubt that the sunlight of faith
has again fallen into the dark dungeon, nor yet that the
peace of conviction has filled the martyr of Christ.
He must have known that his end was at hand, and been
ready to be offered up. Nor would he any longer expect
from the Messiah assertions of power on his behalf. He
now understood that for which ' He had come ; ' he knew
the better liberty, triumph, and victory which He brought.
His life-work had been done, and there was nothing further
that fell to him or that he could do, and the weary servant
of the Lord must have longed for his rest.
It* was early spring, shortly before the Passover, the
anniversary of the death of Herod the Great and of the
p 2

212 Jesvs the Messiah
accession of (his son) Herod Antipas to the Tetrarchy. A
fit time this for a Belshazzar-feast, when such an one as
Herod would gather to a grand banquet ' his lords,' and
the military authorities, and the chief men of Galilee. It is
evening, and the castle-palace is brilliantly lighted up. The
noise of music and the shouts of revelry come across the
slope into the citadel, and fall into the deep dungeon where
waits the prisoner of Christ. And now the merriment in
the great banqueting-hall has reached its utmost height.
The king has nothing further to offer his satiated guests,
no fresh excitement. So let it be the sensuous stimulus
of dubious dances, and, to complete it, let the dancer be
the fair young daughter of the king's wife, the very
descendant of the Asmonasan priest-princes ! To viler
depth of coarse familiarity even a Herod could not have
descended. She has come, and she has danced, this princely
maiden. And she has done her best in that wretched
exhibition, and pleased Herod and them that sat at meat
with him. And now, amidst the general plaudits, she
shall have her reward — and the king swears it to her with
loud voice, that all around hear it — even to the half of his
kingdom. The maiden steals out of the banquet-hall to
ask her mother what it shall be. Can there be doubt or
hesitation in the mind of Herodias ? If there was one object
she had at heart, which these ten months she had in vain
sought to attain, it was the death of John the Baptist.
She remembered it all only too well — her stormy, reckless
past. The daughter of Aristobulus, the ill-fated son of the
ill-fated Asmonaean princess Mariamme (I.), she had been
married to her half-uncle, Herod Philip, the son of Herod
the Great and of Mariamme (II.), the daughter of the
High-Priest (Boethos). At one time it seemed as if Herod
Philip wouldhave been sole inheritor of his father's dominions.
But the old tyrant had changed his testament, and Philip
was left with great wealth, but as a private person living
in Jerusalem. This little suited the woman's ambition.
It was when his half-brother, Herod Antipas, came on a
visit to him at Jerusalem, that an intrigue began between

Beheading of John the Baptist 213
the Tetrarch and his brother's wife. It was agreed that,
after the return of Antipas from his impending journey to
Rome, he should repudiate his wife, the daughter of Aretas,
king of Arabia, and wed Herodias. But Aretas' daughter
heard of the plot, and having obtained her husband's con
sent to go to Machaarus, she fled thence to her father.
This, of course, led to enmity between Antipas and Aretas.
Nevertheless, the adulterous marriage with Herodias
followed. In a few sentences the story may be carried to
its termination. The woman proved the curse and ruin of
Antipas. First came the murder of the Baptist, which
sent a thrill of horror through the people, and to which all
the later misfortunes of Herod were attributed. Then
followed a war with Aretas, in which the Tetrarch was
worsted. And, last of all, his wife's ambition led ¦ him to
Rome to solicit the title of king, lately given to Agrippa,
the brother of Herodias. Antipas not only failed, but was
deprived of his dominions, and banished to Lyons in Gaul.
The pride of the woman in refusing favours from the
Emperor, and her faithfulness to her husband in his fallen
fortunes, are the only redeeming points in her history.
As for Salome, she was first married to her uncle, Philip
the Tetrarch. Legend has it that her death was retribu
tive, being in consequence of a fall on the ice.
Such was the woman who had these many months
sought to rid herself of the hated person who alone had
dared publicly denounce her sin, and whose words held her
weak husband in awe. The opportunity had now come for
obtaining from the vacillating monarch what her entreaties
• st. Matt could never have secured. As the Gospel puts it,"
"T- 8 ' instigated ' by her mother, the damsel hesitated
not. ' With haste,' as if no time were to be lost, she went
up to the king : ' I will that thou forthwith give me in a
charger the head of John the Baptist.' Silence must
have fallen on the assembly. Even into their hearts such
a demand from the lips of little more than a child must
have struck horror. They all knew John to be a righteous
and a holy man. Wicked as they were, in their supersti
tion, if not religiousness, few, if any of tbem, would have

214 Jesus the Messiah
willingly lent himself to such work. And they all knew
also why Salome, or rather Herodias, had made this
demand. What would Herod do? 'The king was ex
ceeding sorry.' For months he had striven against this.
His conscience, fear of the people, inward horror of the
deed, all would have kept him from it. But he had sworn
to the maiden, who now stood before him, claiming that
the pledge be redeemed, and every eye in the assembly
was fixed upon him. Unfaithful to his God, to his con
science, to truth and righteousness ; not ashamed of any
crime or sin, he would yet be faithful to his half-drunken
oath, and appear honourable and true before such com
panions !
It has been but the contest of a moment. ' Straight
way ' the king gives the order to one of the body-guard.
No time for preparation is given, or needed. A few
minutes more, and the gory head of the Baptist is brought
to the maiden in a charger, and she gives the ghastly dish
to her mother.
It is all over ! As the pale morning light streams into
the keep, the faithful disciples, who had been told of it,
come reverently to bear the headless body to the burying.
They go forth for ever from that accursed place, which is
so soon to become a mass of shapeless ruins. They go to
tell it to Jesus, and henceforth to remain with Him. We
can imagine what welcome awaited them. But the people
ever afterwards cursed the tyrant, and looked for those
judgments of God to follow, which were so soon to descend
on him. And he himself was ever afterwards restless,
wretched, and full of apprehensions. He could scarcely
believe that the Baptist was really dead, and when the
fame of Jesus reached him, and those around suggested
that this was Elijah, a prophet, or as one of them, Herod's
mind, amidst its strange perplexities, still reverted to the
man whom he had murdered. It was a new anxiety,
perhaps even so a new hope ; and as formerly he had
often and gladly heard the Baptist, so now he would fain
»st.Lukeix. have seen Jesus.a- He would see Him: but not
9 now. In that dark night of betrayal, he, who at

Feeding of the Five Thousand 215
the bidding of the child of an adulteress, had murdered the
Forerunner, might, with the approbation of a Pilate, have
rescued Him Whose faithful witness John had been. But
night was to merge into yet darker night. For it was the
time and the power of the Evil One. And yet : Jehovah
reigneth !

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

THE MIRACULOUS FEEDING OF THE FIVE THOUSAND,
(St. Matt. xiv. 13-21 ; St. Mark vi. 30-44 ; St. Luke ix 10-17 1
St. John vi. 1-14.)
In the circumstances described in the previous chapter,
Jesus resolved at once to leave Capernaum ; and this prob
ably, as we have seen, alike for the sake of His disciples,
who needed rest ; for that of the people, who might have
attempted a rising after the murder of the Baptist ; and
temporarily to withdraw Himself and His followers from
the power of Herod. For this purpose He chose the place,
outside the dominions of Antipas, nearest to Capernaum,
This was Beth-Saida ('the house of fishing') on the
eastern border of Galilee, just within the territory of the
Tetrarch Philip. Originally a small village, Philip had
converted it into a town, and named it Julias, after Cassar's
daughter. It lay on the eastern bank of Jordan, just
before that stream enters the Lake of Galilee.1
Only a few hours' sail from Capernaum, and even a
shorter distance by land, lay the district of Bethsaida
Julias. It was natural that Christ, wishing to avoid
public attention, should have gone ' by ship,' and equally
so that the many ' seeing them departing, and knowing '
— viz. what direction the boat was taking — should have
followed on foot, and been joined by others from the neigh
bouring villages. The circumstance that the Passover was
1 This Bethsaida must not be confounded with the other ' Fisher-
town ' or Bethsaida, on the western shore of the Lake, which the Fourth
Gospel distinguishes from the Eastern as ' Bethsaida of Galilee ' (St.
John xii. 21 ; comp. i. 44 ; St. Mark vi. 45).

216 Jesus the Messiah
nigh at hand, so that many must have been starting on
their journey to Jerusalem, round the Lake and through
Perasa, partly accounts for the immense number of ' about
5,000 men, beside women and children,' which is men
tioned. And this, perhaps in conjunction with the effect
on the people of John's murder, may also explain their
ready and eager gathering to Christ.
As we picture it to ourselves, our Lord with His
disciples, and perhaps followed by those who had outrun
the rest, first retired to the top of a height, and there
• st. John rested in teaching converse with them.a Pre-
Zlsl Matt_ sently, as He saw the great multitudes gathering,
***• u He was ' moved with compassion towards them.' b
There could be no question of retirement or rest in view
of this. He must work while it was called to-day, ere the
night ofjudgment came. It was this depth of pity which
now ended the Saviour's rest, and brought Him down from
the hill to meet the gathering multitude in the ' desert '
plain beneath.
And what a sight — these thousands of men, besides
women and children ; and what thoughts of the past, the
present, and the future, would be called up by the scene.
These Passover-pilgrims and God's guests, now streaming
out into this desert after Him ; with a murdered John just
buried, and no earthly teacher, guide, or help left ! Truly
¦ st.Mark they were 'as sheep having no shepherd.'
vi. 34 The very surroundings seemed to give to the
thought the vividness of a picture : this wandering, stray
ing multitude, the desert sweep of country, the very want
of provisions. A Passover, indeed, but of which He would
be the Paschal Lamb, the Bread which He gave the
Supper, and around which He would gather those
scattered, shepherdless sheep into one flock of many
' companies,' to which His Apostles would bring the
bread He had blessed and broken, to their sufficient and
more than sufficient nourishment ; and from which they
would carry the remnant-baskets full, after the flock had
been fed, to the poor in the outlying places of far-off
heathendom.

o

Feeding of the Five Thousand 217
Meantime the Saviour was moving among them —
' beginning to teach them many things,' a and
vi. 34 ' healing them that had need of healing.' b Yet,
^st Luke gs jje gQ move(j an(j thought of it all, from the
•st John first; <¦ jje Himself knew what He was about to do.' °
And now the sun had passed its meridian, and
the shadows fell on the surging crowd. Full of the
thoughts of the great Supper, which was symbolically to
link the Passover of the past with that of the future, and
its Sacramental continuation to all time, He turned to
Philip with this question : ' Whence are we to buy bread,
that these may eat?' Perhaps there was something in
Philip which made it specially desirable that the question
acomp st should be puttohim.d At any rate, the answer
John xiv. of Philip showed that there had been a ' need be '
for it. This — 'two hundred denarii (between
six and seven pounds) worth of bread is not sufficient for
them, that every one may take a little,' is the realism, not
of unbelief, but of an absence of faith which, entirely
ignoring any higher possibility, has not even its hope left
in a ' Thou knowest, Lord.'
But there is evidence, also, that the question of Christ
worked deeper thinking and higher good. As we under
stand it, Philip told it to .Andrew, and they to the others.
While Jesus taught and healed, they must have spoken
together of this strange question of the Master. They
knew Him sufficiently to judge that it implied some
purpose on His part. Did He intend to provide for all
that multitude? They counted them roughly. They
thought of all the means for feeding such a multitude.
How much had they of their own ? -As we judge by com
bining the various statements, there was a lad there who
carried the humble provisions of the party — perhaps a
• com st fisher-lad brought for the purpose from the boat."
John vi. 9 It would take quite what Philip had reckoned —
Satt. xiv. about two hundred denarii — if the Master meant
vl.^l*- st"* them to go and buy victuals for all that multitude.
Luke ix. 13 Probably the common stock — at any rate as com
puted by Judas, who carried the bag — did not contain that

218 Jesus the Messiah
amount. In any case, the right and the wise thing was to
dismiss the multitude, that they might go into the towns
and- villages and buy for themselves victuals, and find
lodgment. Already what was called ' the first evening ' had set in,
when the disciples, whose anxiety must have been growing
with the progress of time, asked the Lord to dismiss the
people. But it was as they had thought. He would have
them give the people to eat ! How many loaves had they ?
• st.Mark Let them go and see.a And when Andrew went
¦"• 38 to see what store the fisher-lad carried for them,
he brought back the tidings, ' He hath five barley loaves
and two small fishes,' to which he added, half in disbelief,
half in faith's rising expectancy of impossible possibility :
» st. John 'But what are they among so many?'b It is
vi-9 to the fourth Evangelist alone that we owe the
record of this remark, which we instinctively feel gives to
the whole the touch of truth and life. It is to him also
that we owe two other minute traits of deep interest, and
of greater importance than at first sight appears.
When we read that these five were barley-loaves, we
learn that, no doubt from voluntary choice, the fare of the
Lord and of His followers was the poorest. Indeed, barley-
bread was, almost proverbially, the meanest. The other
minute trait in St. John's Gospel consists in the use of a
peculiar word for ' fish ' — ' opsarion,' which properly means
what was eaten along with the bread, and specially refers
to the small and generally dried or pickled fish eaten with
bread, like our ' sardines,' or the ' caviar ' of Russia, the
pickled herrings of Holland and Germany, or a peculiar
kind of small dried fisli, eaten with the bones, in the North
of Scotland. Now the Lake of Galilee was particularly
rich in these fishes, and we know that both the salting
and pickling of them was a special industry among its
fishermen. For this purpose a small kind was specially
selected. The diminutive used by St. John, of which our
Authorised Version no doubt gives the meaning fairly by
rendering it 'small fishes,' refers, most likely, to those small
fishes (probably a kind of sardine), of which millions were

Feeding of the Five Thousand 219
caught in the Lake, and which, dried and salted, would
form the most common ' savoury ' with bread for the fisher-
population along the shores.
Only once again does the same expression occur, and
that once more in the fourth Gospel. On that morning,
when the Risen One manifested Himself by the Lake of
Galilee to them who had all the night toiled in vain, He
had provided for them miraculously the meal, when on the
' fire of charcoal ' they saw the well-remembered ' little fish,'
and, as He bade them bring of the ' little fish ' which they
had miraculously caught, Peter drew to shore the net full,
not of ' little ' but ' of great fishes.' And yet it was not
of those ' great fishes ' that He gave them, but ' He took
• st John the bread and gave them, and the opsarion like-
xxi."9,10,13 -wise.' a
There is one proof at least of the implicit faith, or
rather trust, of the disciples in their Master. They had
given Him account of their own scanty provision, and yet,
as He bade them make the people sit down to the meal,
they hesitated not to obey. We can picture to ourselves
» st. Matt *ne expanse of 'grass,'15 'green,' and fresh,a
xiv. u> ' much grass ; ' a then the people in their ' com-
vi. 39 panies ' e of fifties and hundreds, reclining,f and
¦rtStio ° looking in their regular divisions, and with their
^?bjMark bright many-coloured dresses, like ' garden-
* st. iuke beds ' e on the turf. But on One Figure must
« st. nark every eye have been bent. Around Him stood
His Apostles. They had laid before Him the
scant provision made for their own wants, and which was
now to feed this great multitude. As was wont at meals
on the part of the head of the household, Jesus took the
bread, ' blessed ' or, as St. John puts it, ' gave thanks,'
and ' brake ' it. The expression recalls that connected
with the Holy Eucharist, and leaves little doubt on the
mind that, in the Discourse delivered in the Synagogue of
i>st. John Capernaum,h there is also reference to the Lord's
vi. 48-58 Supper. As of comparatively secondary import
ance, yet helping us better to realise the scene, we recall
the Jewish ordinance, that the head of the house was only to

220 Jesus the Messiah
speak the blessing if he himself shared in the meal. Yet if
they who sat down to it were not merely guests, but his
children, or his household, then might he speak it, even if
he himself did not partake of the bread which he had
broken. There can be little doubt that the words which Jesus
spake, whether in Aramaean, Greek, or Hebrew, were those
so well known : ' Blessed art Thou, Jehovah our God, King
of the world, Who causest to come forth bread from the
earth.' Assuredly it was this threefold thought : the up
ward thought, the recognition of the creative act as
regards every piece of bread we eat, and the thanks
giving — which was realised anew in all its fulness when,
as He distributed to the disciples, the provision miracu
lously multiplied in His Hands. And still they bore it
from His Hands from company to company, laying before
each a store. When they were all. filled, He that had pro
vided the meal bade them gather up the fragments before
each company. So doing, each of the twelve had his
basket filled. Here also we have another life-touch.
Those ' baskets ' known in Jewish writings by a similar
name, made of wicker or willows, were in common use,
but considered of the poorest kind. There is a sublimeness
of contrast that passes description between this feast to
the five thousand, besides women and children, and the
poor's provision of barley-bread and the two small fishes ;
and, again, between the quantity left and the coarse
wicker baskets in which it was stored. Nor do we forget to
draw mentally the parallel between this Messianic feast
and that banquet of 'the latter days' which Rabbinism
pictured so realistically. But as the wondering multitude
watched, as the disciples gathered from company to com
pany the fragments into their baskets, the murmur ran
through the ranks : ' This is truly the Prophet, " the
Coming One." '

221

CHAPTER XXXIX.
THE NIGHT OF MIRACLES ON THE LAKE OF GENNESARET.
(St. Matt. xiv. 22-36 ; St. Mark vi. 45-56 ; St. John vi. 15-21.)
The last question of the Baptist spoken in public had
been : ' Art Thou the Coming One, or look we for another ? '
It had in part been answered, as the murmur had passed
through the ranks : ' This One is truly the Prophet, the
Coming One ! ' So, then, they had no longer to wait, nor
to look for another ! An irresistible impulse seized the
people. They would proclaim Him King, then and there ;
and as they knew, probably from previous utterances, per
haps when similar movements had to be checked, that He
would resist, they would constrain Him to declare Him
self, or at least to be proclaimed by them.
'Jesus, therefore, perceiving that they were about to
come, and to take Him by force, that they might make
Him King, withdrew again into the mountain, Himself
alone,' or, as it might be rendered, though not quite in the
modern usage of the expression, ' became an anchorite
•st. John again . . . Himself alone.' a He withdrew to
pray ; and He stilled the people, and sent them,
no doubt solemnised, to their homes, by telling them that
He withdrew to pray. And He did pray till far on, when
•> st. Matt the (second) evening had come,b and the first
"T" 23 stars shone out over the Lake of Galilee.
For whom and for what He prayed alone on that
mountain, we dare not inquire. And as He prayed, out on
the Lake, vhere the bark which bore His disciples made
for the other shore, ' a great wind ' ' contrary to them ' was
rising. And still He was ' alone on the land,' but looking
out after them, as the ship was ' in the midst of the sea,'
and they toiling and ' distressed in rowing.'
Thus far, to the utmost verge of their need, but not
farther. The Lake is altogether about six miles wide,
and they had as yet made little more than half the dis
tance. Already it was ' the fourth watch of the night,'

222 Jesus the Messiah
what might be termed the morning watch,1 when the well-
known Form seemed to be passing them, ' walking upon
the sea.' There can, at least, be no question that such
was the impression, not only of one or another, but that
all saw Him. They tell us that they regarded His Form
moving on the water as ' a spirit,' and cried out for fear ;
and again, that the impression produced by the whole
scene, even on them that had witnessed the miracle of the
previous evening, was one of overwhelming astonishment.
This walking on the water, then, was even to them within
the domain of the truly miraculous, and it affected their
minds equally, perhaps even more than ours, from the fact
that in their view so much which to us seems miraculous
lay within the sphere of what might be expected in the
course of such a history.
As regards what may be termed the credibility of this
miracle this may again be stated, that this and similar
instances of ' dominion over the creature,' are not beyond
the range of what God had originally assigned to man,
when He made him a little lower than the angels, and
crowned him with glory and honour, made him to have
dominion over the works of His Hands, and all things
.,, .... were put under his feet.a Indeed, this ' dominion
*Ps. vm. 5, r 3
6; oomp. over the sea seems to exhibit the Divinely
human rather than the humanly Divine aspect of
Christ's Person, if such distinction may be lawfully made.
This, however, deserves special notice : that there is one
marked point of difference between the account of this
miracle and what will be found a general characteristic in
legendary narratives. In the latter the miraculous, how
ever extraordinary, is the expected ; it creates no sur
prise and it is never mistaken for something that might
have occurred in the ordinary course of events. For it is
characteristic of the mythical that the miraculous is not
only introduced in the most realistic manner, but forms
the essential element in the conception of things. Now
the opposite is the case in the present narrative. Had it
been mythical or legendary, we should have expected thai
1 Probably from 3 to about 6 A.M.

Christ Walking on the Water 223
the disciples would have been described as immediately
recognising the Master as He walked on the sea, and
worshipping Him. Instead of this, they ' are troubled ' and
' afraid.' ' They supposed it was an apparition ' (this in
accordance with popular Jewish notions), and ' cried out
for fear.' Even afterwards, when they had received Him
into the ship, ' they were sore amazed in themselves,' and
' understood not,' while those in the ship (in contradistinc
tion to the disciples) burst forth into an act of worship.
This much then is evident, that the disciples expected not
the miraculous ; that they were unprepared for it ; that
they explained it on what to them seemed natural grounds ;
and that, even when convinced of its reality, the impres
sion of wonder which it made was of the deepest.
But their fear, which made them almost hesitate to re
ceive Him into the boat, even though the outcome of error
and superstition, brought His ready sympathy and com
fort, in language which has so often converted misappre
hension into thankful assurance : ' It is I, be not afraid ! '
And they were no longer afraid, though truly His walk
ing upon the waters might seem more awesome than any
' apparition.' The storm in their hearts, like that on the
Lake, was commanded by His Presence. We must still
bear in mind their former excitement, now greatly in
tensified by what they had just witnessed, in order to
understand the request of Peter : ' Lord, if it be Thou,
bid me come to Thee on the water.' They are the words
of a man whom the excitement of the moment has carried
beyond all reflection. And yet, with reverence be it said,
Christ could not have left the request ungranted, even
though it was the outcome of yet unreconciled and un-
transformed doubt and presumption. And so He bade him
come upon the water to transform his doubt, but left him
to his own feelings unassured from without as he saw the
wind, in order to transform his presumption ; while by stretch
ing out His Hand to save him from sinking, and by the
words of correction which He spake, He did actually so point
to their transformation in that hope, of which St. Peter is
the special representative, and the preacher in the Church.

224 Jesus the Messiah
And presently, as they two came into the boat, the wind
ceased, and immediately the ship was at the land. But
' they that were in the boat ' — apparently in contradistinc
tion to the disciples, though the latter must have stood
around in sympathetic reverence — •' worshipped Him, say
ing, Of a truth Thou art the Son of God.' The first full
public confession this of the fact, and made not by the
disciples, but by others. But in the disciples also the
thought was striking deep root; and presently, by the
Mount of Transfiguration, would it be spoken in the name
of all by Peter, not as demon nor as man taught, but as
taught of Christ's Father Who is in Heaven.

CHAPTER XL.
CONCERNING ' PURIFICATION,' ' HAND- WASHING,' AND ' VOWS.'
(St. Matt. xv. 1-20 ; St. Mark vii. 1-23.)
It is quite in accordance with the abrupt departure of
Jesus from Capernaum, and its motives, that when, far from
finding rest and privacy at Bethsaida (east of the Jordan),
a greater multitude than ever had there gathered around
Him, which would fain have proclaimed Him King, He
resolved on immediate return to the western shore, with
the view of seeking a quieter retreat, even though it were in
• st. Matt, 'the coasts of Tyre and Sidon.' a From the fact
»st mm* tnat St. Markb names Bethsaida, and St. John0
^st j hn Capernaum, as the original destination of the boat,
n. ii we would infer that Bethsaida was the fishing
quarter of, or rather close to, Capernaum, even as we so
often find in our own country a ' Fisherton ' adjacent to
larger towns.
Christ had directed the disciples to steer thither. But
a st. Mark we gather from the expressions used d that the boat
T1, 53 which bore them had drifted out of its course —
probably owing to the wind — and touched land, not where
they had intended, but at Gennesaret, where they moored
it early on the Friday morning. There can be no question

Concerning Purification 225
that by this term is meant ' the Plain of Gennesaret,' the
richness and beauty of which Josephus and the Rabbis
describe in such glowing language. To this day it bears
marks of having been the most favoured spot in this
favoured region.
As the tidings spread of His arrival and of the miracles
which had so lately been witnessed, the people from the
neighbouring villages and towns flocked around Him, and
brought their sick for the healing touch. So passed the
greater part of the forenoon. Meantime the report of all
this must have reached the neighbouring Capernaum.
This brought immediately on the scene those Pharisees and
Scribes ' who had come from Jerusalem ' on purpose to
watch, and, if possible, to compass the destruction of Jesus.
As we conceive it, they met the Lord and His disciples on
their way to Capernaum.
Although the cavil of the Jerusalem Scribes may have
been occasioned by seeing some of the disciples eating with
out first having washed their hands, we cannot banish the
impression that it reflected on the miraculously provided
meal of the previous evening, when thousands had sat down
to food without the previous observance of the Rabbinic
ordinance. Neither in that case, nor in the present, had
the Master interposed. He was, therefore, guilty of par
ticipation in their offence. But, in another aspect, the
objection ofthe Scribes was not a mere cavil.
It has already been shown that the Pharisees accounted
for the miracles of Christ as wrought by the power of
Satan, whose special representative — almost incarnation —
they declared Jesus to be. This would not only turn the
evidential force of these signs into an argument against
Christ, but vindicate the resistance of the Pharisees to His
claims. The second charge against Jesus was, that He
¦> st. John was ' not of God ; ' that He was ' a sinner.' B If
ix.16,24 tkjs C(mi,i ke established it would, of course,
prove that He was not the Messiah, but a deceiver who
misled the people, and whom it was the duty of the San
hedrin to unmask and arrest. The way in which they
attempted to establish this, perhaps persuaded themselves Q

226 Jesus the Messiah
that it was so, was by proving that He sanctioned in others,
and Himself committed, breaches of the traditional law.
The third and last charge against Jesus, which finally
decided the action of the Council, could only be fully made
at the close of His career. It might be formulated so as to
meet the views of either the Pharisees or Sadducees. To
the former it might be presented as a blasphemous claim
to equality with God — the Very Son of the Living God.
To the Sadducees it would appear as a movement on the
part of a most dangerous enthusiast — if honest and self-
deceived, all the more dangerous ; one of those pseudo-
Messiahs who led away the ignorant, superstitious, and
excitable people ; and which, if unchecked, would result in
persecutions and terrible vengeance by the Romans, and
in loss of the last remnants of their national independence.
To each of these three charges, of which we are now
watching the opening or development, there was (from the
then standpoint) only one answer : faith in His Person. To
this faith Jesus was now leading His disciples, till, fully
realised in the great confession of Peter, it became, and
has ever since proved, the Rock on which that Church
is built, against which the very gates of Hades cannot
prevail. It was in support of the second of these charges that
the Scribes now blamed the Master for allowing His dis
ciples to eat without having previously washed, or, as St.
Mark — indicating in the word the origin of the custom —
expresses it : ' with common hands.' This practice is ex
pressly admitted to have been, not a Law of Moses, but ' a
tradition of the elders.' Still, it was so strictly enjoined
that to neglect it was like being guilty of gross carnal de
filement. Its omission would lead to temporal destruction,
or, at least, to poverty. Bread eaten with unwashen hands
was as if it had been filth. In fact, although at one time
it had only been one of the marks of a Pharisee, yet at a.
later period to wash before eating was regarded as affording
the ready means of recognising a Jew.
Let us try to realise the attitude of Christ in regard
to the ordinances about purification, and seek to under-

Concerning 'Hand-washing' 227
Btand the reason of His bearing. That, in replying to the
charge of the Scribes against His disciples, He neither
vindicated their conduct, nor apologised for their breach
of Rabbinic ordinances, implied at least an attitude of
indifference towards traditionalism. This is the more
noticeable, since, as we know, the ordinances of the Scribes
were declared more precious and of more binding import
ance than those of Holy Scripture itself. But, even so,
the question might arise, why Christ should have provoked
such hostility by placing Himself in marked antagonism
to what, after all, was in itself indifferent. The answer to
this inquiry will require a disclosure of that aspect of
Rabbinism which has hitherto been avoided.
It has elsewhere been told how Rabbinism, in the mad
ness of its self-exaltation, represented God as busying Him
self by day with the study of the Scriptures, and by night
with that of the Mishnah ; and how, in the heavenly San
hedrin, over which the Almighty presided, the Rabbis sat
in the order of their greatness, and the Halakhah was
discussed, and decisions taken in accordance with it. It.
is even more terrible to read of God wearing the Tallith,
or that He puts on the Phylacteries, which is deduced
from Is. lxii. 8. In like manner the Almighty is sup
posed to submit to purifications. Similarly He immersed
in a bath of fire, after the defilement of the burial of
Moses. Such details will explain how Jesus could not have
assumed merely an attitude of indifference towards tradi
tionalism. His antagonism was never more pronounced
that in what He said in reply to the charge of neglect of
the ordinance about ' the washing of hands.' It was an
admitted Rabbinic principle that, while the ordinances of
Scripture required no confirmation, those of the Scribes
needed such, and that no Halakhah (traditional law)
might contradict Scripture. When Christ, therefore, next
proceeded to show that in a very important point — nay,
in ' many such like things ' — the Halakhah was utterly in
compatible with Scripture, that, indeed, they made ' void
the Word of God' by their traditions which they had
O 2

228 Jesus the Messiah
•st Matt received," He dealt the heaviest blow to tra
it Matt va ditionalism. Rabbinism stood self-condemned ;
9> 13 on its own showing it was to be rejected as in
compatible with the Word of God.
It is not so easy to understand why the Lord should,
out of ' many such things,' have selected in illustration
the Rabbinic ordinance concerning vows, as in certain
circumstances contravening the fifth commandment. Of
course, the ' Ten Words ' were the Holy of Holies of the
Law ; nor was there any obligation more rigidly observed
than that of honour to parents. In both respects, then,
this was a specially vulnerable point, and it might well be
argued that if in this Law Rabbinic ordinances came into
conflict with the demands of God's Word, the essential
contrariety between them must, indeed, be great.
At the outset it must be admitted that Rabbinism did
not encourage the practice of promiscuous vowing. The
Jewish proverb had it : 'In the hour of need a vow ; in
time of ease excess.' Towards such work-righteousness
and religious gambling the Eastern, and especially the
Rabbinic Jew, would be particularly inclined. But even
the Rabbis saw that its encouragement would lead to the
profanation of what was holy. Of many sayings con
demnatory of the practice one will suffice to mark the
general feeling : ' He who makes a vow, even if he keep
it, deserves the name of wicked.' Nevertheless, the practice
must have attained serious proportions, whether as regards
the number of vows, the lightness with which they were
made, or the kind of things which became their object.
It was not necessary to use the express words of vowing.
Not only the word ' Qorban ' [Korban] — ' given to God ' —
but any similar expression would suffice ; the mention of
anything laid upon the altar (though not of the altar it
self), such as the wood or the fire, would constitute a vow,
nay, the repetition of the form which generally followed on
the votive Qonam or Qorban had binding force, even though
not preceded by these terms.
It is in explaining this strange provision, intended
both to uphold the solemnity of vows, and to discourage

Concerning ' Vows' 229
the rash use of words, that the Talmud makes use of the
word ' hand ' in a connection which might, by association
of ideas, have suggested to Christ the contrast between
what the Bible and what the Rabbis regarded as ' sanctified
hands,' and hence between the commands of God and the
traditions of the Elders. For the Talmud explains that
when a man simply says : ' That (or if) I eat or taste such
a thing,' it is imputed as a vow, and he may not eat or
taste of it, ' because the hand is on the Qorban ' — the mere.
touch of Qorban had sanctified it and put it beyond his
reach, just as if it had been laid on the altar itself. Here,
then was a contrast. According to the Rabbis, the touch
of ' a common ' hand defiled God's good gift of meat, while
the touch of ' a sanctified ' hand in rash or wicked words
might render it impossible to give anything to a parent,
and so involve the grossest breach of the Fifth Com-.
mandment ! Such, according to Rabbinic Law, was the.
' common ' and such the ' sanctifying ' touch of the hands^
And did such traditionalism not truly ' make void the
Word of God'?
A few further particulars may serve to set this in
clearer light. It must not be thought that the pronuncia-
.tion of the votive word ' Qorban' although meaning ' a gift,'
or ' given to God,' necessarily dedicated a thing to the.
Temple. The meaning might simply be, and generally was,
that it was to be regarded like Qorban — that is, the thing
termed was. to be considered as if it were Qorban, laid on
the altar, and put entirely put of their reach. For although
included under the one name, there were really two kinds
of vows : those of consecration to God, and those of per
sonal obligation — and the latter were the most frequent.
The legal distinctions between a vow, an oath, and ' the
ban,' are clearly marked both in reason and in Jewish
Law. The oath was an absolute, the vow a conditional
undertaking. The ' ban ' might refer to one of three things :
those dedicated for the use of the priesthood, those dedicated;
to God, or else to a sentence pronounced by the San
hedrin. Absolutions from a vow might be obtained before a
' sage,' or, in his absence, before three laymen, when all

230 Jesus the Messiah
obligations became null and void. At the same time the
Mishnah admits that this power of absolving from vows
received little (or, as Maimonides puts it, no) support from
Scripture. There can be no doubt that the words of Christ referred
to such vows of personal obligation. By these a person
might bind himself in regard to men or things, or else put
that which was another's out of his own reach, or that which
was his own out ofthe reach of another, and this as completely
as if the thing or things had been Qorban, a gift given
to God. And so stringent was the ordinance that (almost
in the words of Christ) it is expressly stated that such a vow
was binding, even if what was vowed involved a breach of
the Law. Such vows in regard to parents were certainly
binding, and were actually made. Thus the charge brought
by Christ is in fullest accordance with the facts of the case.
More than this, the seemingly inappropriate addition to our
Lord's mention of the Fifth Commandment of the words :
' He that revileth father or mother, he shall (let him)
• Ex xxi.17 surely die,' a is not only explained but vindicated
by the common usage of the Rabbis, to mention
along with a command the penalty belonging to its breach,
so as to indicate the importance which Scripture attached
to it. On the other hand, the words of St. Mark : ' Qor
ban (that is to say, gift [viz. to God]) that by which
thou mightest be profited by me,' are a most exact tran
scription into Greek of the common formula of vowing,
as given in the Mishnah and Talmud.
But Christ did not merely show the hypocrisy of the
system of traditionalism in conjoining in the name of re
ligion the greatest outward punctiliousness with the grossest
breach of real duty. Never was prophecy more clearly vin
dicated than the words of Isaiah to Israel : ' This people
honoureth Me with their lips, but their heart is far from
Me. Howbeit, in vain do they worship Me, teaching
for doctrines the commandments of men.' In thus setting
forth for the first time the real character of traditionalism,
and placing Himself in open opposition to its fundamental
principles, the Christ enunciated also for the first time the

That which Defilrth a Man 231
fundamental principle of His own interpretation of the Law.
That Law was not a system of externalism, in which out
ward things affected the inner man. It was moral, and
addressed itself to man as a moral being. Not from with
out inwards, but from within outwards : such was the prin
ciple of the new Kingdom, as setting forth the Law in its
fulness and fulfilling it. 'There is nothing from without
the man, that, entering into him, can defile him ; but the
things which proceed out of the man, those are they that
defile the man.' It is in this essential contrariety of prin
ciple, rather than in any details, that the unspeakable
difference between Christ and all contemporary teachers
appears. As we read it, the discussion had taken place between
the Scribes and the Lord, while the multitude perhaps
stood aside. But when enunciating the grand principle of
what constituted real defilement, ' He called to Him the
• st. Matt multitude.' a It was probably while pursuing
stMark their way to Capernaum, when this conversation
•™- M had taken place, that His disciples afterwards re
ported that the Pharisees had been offended by that saying
of His to the multitude. Even this implies the weakness
of the disciples : that they were not only influenced by
the good or evil opinion of these religious leaders of
the people, but in some measure sympathised with their
views. The answer which the Lord gave bore a twofold
aspect : that of warning concerning the inevitable fate of
every plant which God had not planted, and that of warn
ing concerning the character and issue of Pharisaic teach
ing, as being the leadership of the blind by the blind,
which must end in ruin to both.
But even so the words of Christ are represented in the
Gospel as sounding strange and difficult to the disciples.
They were earnest, genuine men ; and when they reached
the home in Capernaum, Peter, as the most courageous of
them, broke the reserve — half of fear and half of reverence
— which, despite their necessary familiarity, seems to have
subsisted between the Master and His disciples. He would
seek for himself and his fellow-disciples explanation of

232 Jesus the Messiah
what seemed to him parabolic in the Master's teaching.
He received it in the fullest manner. There was, indeed,
one part even in the teaching of the Lord, which accorded
with the higher views of the Rabbis. Those sins which
Christ set before them as sins of the outward and inward
man, and of what connects the two : our relation to others,
were the outcome of ' evil thoughts..' And this the Rabbis
taught, explaining with much detail how the heart was
alike the source of strength and of weakness, of good
and of evil thoughts, loved and hated, envied, lusted and
deceived, proving each statement from Scripture. But
never .before could they have realised that anything enter
ing from without could not defile a man. Least of all
could they perceive the final inference which St. Mark
• st Mark long afterwards derived from this teaching of the
last clause Lord: ' This He said, making all meats clean.'*

CHAPTER XLI.

THE GREAT CRISIS LN POPULAR FEELING — CHRIST THE
BREAD OF LLFE — 'WILL YE ALSO GO AWAY?'
(St. John vi. 22-71.)
The narrative now returns to those who, on the previous
evening, had after the miraculous meal been ' sent away '
to their homes. We remember that this had been after
an abortive attempt on their part to. take Jesus by force
and make Him their Messiah-King. We can understand,
how the resistance of Jesus to their purpose not only
weakened, but in great measure neutralised, the effect of
the miracle which they had witnessed. In fact, we look
upon this check as the first turning of the tide of popular
enthusiasm. Let us bear in mind what ideas and expec
tations of an altogether external character those men con
nected with the Messiah of their dreams. At last, by
some miracle more notable even than the giving of the
Manna in the wilderness, enthusiasm had been raised to
the highest pitch, and thousands were determined to give

Crisis in Popular Feeling 233
np their pilgrimage to the Passover, and then and there
proclaim the Galilean Teacher Israel's King. If He were
the Messiah, such was His rightful title. Why then did.
He so strenuously and effectually resist it ? In ignorance
of His real views concerning the Kingship, they would
naturally conclude that it must have been from fear, from
misgiving, from want of belief in Himself. At any rate,
He could not be the Messiah, Who would not be Israel's
King. Enthusiasm of this kind, once repressed, could
never again be kindled. Henceforth there were continuous
misunderstanding, doubt, and defection aniong former ad
herents, growing into opposition and hatred unto death.
Even to those who took not this position, Jesus, His
Words and Works, were henceforth a constant mystery.
And so it came that the morning after the miraculous
meal found the vast majority of those who had been fed
either in their homes or on their pilgrinu-way to the Pass
over at Jerusalem. Only comparatively few came back to
seek Him, where they had eaten bread at His Hand. And
even they sought both ' a sign ' to guide, and an explana
tion to give them its understanding.
It is this view of the mental and moral state of those
who, on the morning after the meal, came to seek Jesus
which alone explains the questions and answers of the
interview at Capernaum. As we read it : ' the day follow--
. ing, the multitude which stood on the other [the eastern]
side of the sea ' ' saw that Jesus was not there, neither
• st John His disciples.' a But of two facts they were
vi.22,24 cognisant. They knew that on the evening
before only one boat had come over, bringing Jesus and
His disciples ; and that Jesus had not returned in it with
His disciples, for they had seen them depart, while Jesus
remained to dismiss the people. In these circumstances
they probably imagined that Christ had returned on foot
by land, being, of course, ignorant of the miracle of that
night. But the wind which had been contrary to the dis
ciples had also driven over to the eastern shore a number;
of fishing-boats from Tiberias. These they now hired,
and came to Capernaum, making inquiry for Jesus. It

234 Jesus the Messiah
is difficult to determine whether the conversation and out
lined address of Christ took place on the Friday afternoon
and Sabbath morning, or only on the Sabbath. All that
» st John we know for certain is that the last part (at any
vi. 53-58 rate a) was spoken ' in Synagogue, as He taught
a' in Capernaum.' b
We have to bear in mind that the Discourse in ques
tion was delivered in the city which had been the scene
of so many of Christ's great miracles, and the centre of
His teaching, and in the Synagogue built by the good
Centurion, and of which Jairus was the chief ruler. Again,
it was delivered after that miraculous feeding which had
raised the popular enthusiasm to the highest pitch, and
also after that chilling disappointment of their Judaistic
hopes in Christ's utmost resistance to His Messianic pro
clamation. They now came ' seeking for Jesus,' in every
sense of the word. They were outwardly prepared for the
very highest teaching, to which the preceding events had
led up, and therefore they must receive such, if any. But
they were not inwardly prepared for it, and therefore they
could not understand it. Secondly, and in connection
with it, we must remember that two high-points had been
reached — by the people, that Jesus was the Messiah-
King; by the ship's company, that He was the Son of
God. However imperfectly these truths may have been
apprehended, yet the teaching of Christ must start from
them, and then point onwards.
»w. 25-29 -'•¦ ^e question:0 'Rabbi, when earnest
Thou hither ? ' with which they from the eastern
shore greeted Jesus, seems to imply that they were per
plexed about, and that some perhaps had heard a vague
rumour of the miracle of His return to the western shore.
It was the beginning of that unhealthy craving for the
miraculous which the Lord had so sharply to reprove. In
His own words : they sought Him not because they ' saw
signs,' but because they ' ate of the loaves,' and, in their
love for the miraculous, ' were filled.' What brought them
was not that they had discerned either the higher mean
ing of that miracle, or the Son of God, but those carnal

Last Discourse at Capernaum 235
Judaistic expectancies which had led them to proclaim Him
King. What they waited for was a Kingdom of God—
not in righteousness, joy, and peace in the Holy Ghost,
but in meat and drink — a kingdom with miraculous wil
derness-banquets to Israel, and coarse miraculous triumphs
over the Gentiles. Not to speak of the fabulous Messia
nic banquet which a sensuous realism expected, or of the
achievements for which it looked, every figure in which
prophets had clothed the brightness of those days was first
literalised, and then exaggerated, till the most glorious
poetic descriptions became incongruous caricatures of
spiritual Messianic expectancy. The fruit-trees were every
day, or at least every week or two, to yield their riches,
the fields their harvests ; the grain was to stand like palm
trees, and to be reaped and winnowed without labour.
Similar blessings were to visit the vine ; ordinary trees
would bear like fruit-trees, and every produce of every
clime would be found in Palestine in such abundance and
luxuriance as only the wildest imagination could con
ceive. Such were the carnal thoughts about the Messiah and
His Kingdom of those who sought Jesus because they 'ate
of the loaves, and were filled.' What a contrast between
them and the Christ, as He pointe'd them from the search
for such meat to ' work for the meat which He would give
them,' not as a merely Jewish Messiah, but as ' the Son
of Man.' And yet in uttering this strange truth, Jesus
could appeal to something they would understand when He
added, ' for Him the Father hath sealed, even God.' The
words, which seem almost inexplicable in this connection,
become clear when we remember that this was a well-
known Jewish expression. According to the Rabbis, ' the
seal of God was Truth,' the three letters of which this
word is composed in Hebrew being, as was significantly
pointed out, respectively the first, the middle, and the last
letters of the alphabet. Thus the words of Christ would
convey to His hearers that for the real meat, which would
endure to eternal life — for the better Messianic banquet — ¦
they must come to Him, because God had impressed upon

236 Jesus the Messiah
Him His own seal of truth, and so authenticated His Teach
ing and Mission.
» st. John 2. Probably what now follows a took place at
""¦ 30~36 a somewhat different time — perhaps on the way
to the Synagogue. Among the ruins of the Synagogue of
Capernaum the lintel has been discovered : it bears the
device of a pot of manna, ornamented with a flowing
pattern of vine leaves and clusters of grapes. Here then
were the outward emblems, which would connect them
selves with the Lord's teaching on that day. The miracu
lous feeding of the multitude in the ' desert place ' the
evening before, and the Messianic thoughts which gathered
around it, would naturally suggest to their minds remem
brance of the manna. That manna, which was angels'
food, distilled (as they imagined) from the upper light,
' the dew from above ' — miraculous food, of all manner of
taste, and suited to every age, according to the wish or
condition of him who ate it, but bitterness to Gentile
palates — they expected the Messiah to bring again from
heaven. For all that the first deliverer, Moses, had done,
the second — Messiah — would also do. And here, over
their Synagogue, was the pot of manna — symbol of what
God had done, earnest of what the Messiah would do : that
pot of manna, which was now among the things hidden,
but which Elijah, when he came, would restore again.
In their view the events of yesterday must lead up to
some such sign, if they had any real meaning. They had
been told to believe on Him as the One authenticated by
God with the seal of truth, and Who would give them
meat to eternal life. By what sign would Christ cor
roborate His assertion that they might see and believe ?
What work would He do to vindicate His claim ? Their
fathers had eaten manna in the wilderness. To understand
the reasoning of the Jews, implied but not fully expressed,
as also the answer of Jesus, it is necessary to bear in
mind that it was the oft and most anciently expressed
opinion that, although God had given them this bread out
of heaven, yet it was given through the merits of Moses,
and ceased with his death. This the Jews had probably

Christ the Bread of Life 237
in view, when they asked: 'What workest Thou?' and
this was the meaning of Christ's emphatic assertion that
it was not Moses who gave Israel that bread. And then,
by what may be designated a peculiarly Jewish turn of
reasoning, such as only those familiar with Jewish litera
ture can fully appreciate, the Saviour makes quite different,
yet to them familiar, application of the manna. Moses
had not given it — his merits had not procured it — but His
Father gave them the true bread out of heaven. ' For,'
as He explained, ' the bread of God is that which cometh
down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world.' Again,
this very Rabbinic tradition which described in such glow
ing language the wonders of that manna, also further ex
plained its other and real meaning to be that if Wisdom
said ' Eat of my bread and drink of my wine,' *
it indicated that the manna and the miraculo'us
water-supply were the sequence of Israel's receiving the
Law and the Commandments — for the real bread from
heaven was the Law.
It was a reference which the Jews understood, and to
which they could not but respond. Yet the mood was
brief. As Jesus, in answer to the appeal that He would
evermore give them this bread, once more directed them
to Himself — from works of men to the Works of God and
to faith— the passing gleam of spiritual hope had already
died out, for they had seen Him and ' yet did not believe.'
With these words Jesus turned away from His ques-
b st John tioners. The solemn sayings which now followed1*
vi. 37-40 could not have been spoken to, and they would
not have been understood by, the multitude. And accord
ingly we find that, when the conversation of the Jews is
once more introduced,0 it takes up the thread
where it had been broken off, when Jesus spake
of Himself as the Bread Which had come down from
heaven. 3. Regarding these words of Christ as addressed to the
disciples, there is nothing in them beyond their standpoint.
Believing that Jesus was the Messiah, it might not be
quite, strange nor new to them as Jews — although not

238 Jesus the Messiah
commonly received — that He would at the end of the world
raise the pious dead. Indeed, one of the names given to
the Messiah has by some been derived from this very ex
pectancy. Again, He had said that it was not any Law,
but His Person that was the bread which came down from
heaven and gave life, not to Jews only, but unto the
world — and they had seen Him and believed not. But
none the less would the purpose of God be accomplished in
the totality of His true people, and its reality be expe
rienced by every individual among them : ' All that [the
total number] which the Father giveth Me shall come unto
Me [shall reach Me], and him that cometh unto Me [the
coming one to Me] I will not cast out outside.' The
totality ofthe God-given must reach Him, despite all hin
drances, for the object of His Coming was to do the Will
of His Father ; and those who came would not be cast
outside, for the Will of Him that had sent Him, and which
He had come to do, was that of ' the all which He has
given ' Him, He ' should not lose anything out of this, but
raise it up in the last day.' Again, it was the Will of Him
that sent Him ' that everyone who intently looketh at the
Son, and believeth on Him, should have eternal life ; ' and
the coming ones would not be cast outside, since this
was His undertaking and promise as the Christ in regard
• st. John vi. to each : 'And raise him up will I at the last
39-40 day.'"
» 41 51 ^' ^^at now f°ll°ws b is again spoken to
'the Jevs,' and may have occurred just as they
were entering the Synagogue. To those spiritually un
enlightened, the point of difficulty seemed how Christ
could claim to be the Bread come down from heaven. His
known parentage and early history forbade anything like
a literal interpretation of His Words.
Yet we mark that what Jesus now spake to ' the Jews '
was the same in substance as, though different in applica
tion from, what He had just uttered to the disciples. This,
not merely in regard to the Messianic prediction of the
Resurrection, but even in what He pronounced as the judg
ment on their murmuring. The words : ' No man can come

Christ the Bread of Life 239
to Me, except the Father Which hath sent Me draw him,'
present only the converse aspect of those to the disciples :
' All that which the Father giveth Me shall come unto Me,
and him that cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out.'
No man can come to the Christ — such is the condition of
the human mind and heart that coming to Christ as a
disciple is not an outward, but an inward, impossibility —
except the Father ' draw him.' And this, again, not in
the sense of any constraint, but in that of the personal
moral influence and revelation, to which Christ afterwards
» st John refers when He saith : ' And I, if I be lifted up
^ 32 from the earth, will draw all men unto myself.' a
Nor did Jesus, while uttering these entirely un-Jewish
truths, forget that He was speaking to Jews. The appeal
to their own Prophets was the more telling, that Jewish
tradition also applied these two prophecies (Is. liv. 13 ;
Jer. xxxi. 34) to the teaching by God in the Messianic
Age. But the explanation of the manner and issue of
God's teaching was new : ' Everyone that hath heard from
the Father, and learned, cometh unto Me.' And this, not
by some external or realistic contact with God, such as they
regarded that of Moses in the past, or expected for them
selves in the latter days ; only ' He Which is from God,
He hath seen the Father.' But even this might sound
general and without exclusive reference to Christ. So,
also, might this statement seem : ' He that believeth hath
eternal life.' Not so the final application, in which the
subject was carried to its ultimate bearing, and all that
might have seemed general or mysterious plainly set forth.
The Personality of Christ was the Bread of Life : ' I am
' st. John the Bread of Life.'b The Manna had not been
vi. 4a bread of life, for those who ate it had died, their
carcases had fallen in the wilderness. Not so in regard to
this, the true Bread from heaven. To share in that Food
was to have everlasting life, a life which the sin and death
of unbelief and judgment would not cut short, as it had
that of them who had eaten the Manna and died in the
wilderness : ' the Bread that I will give is My Flesh, for
the life of the world.'

240 Jesus the Messiah
5. These words, so significant to us, as pointing out
the true meaning of all His teaching, must have sounded
most mysterious. Yet the fact that they strove about their
meaning shows that they must have had some glimmer of
apprehension that they bore on His self-surrender, or, as
they might view it, His martyrdom. This last point is
• st John se't forth hi the concluding Discourse,3, which we
w. 53-58 know to have been delivered in the Synagogue,
whether before, during, or after, His regular Sabbath^
address. It was not a mere martyrdom for the life of the
world, in which all who benefited by it would share — but
personal fellowship with Him. Eating the Flesh and
drinking the Blood of the Son of Man, such was the neces
sary condition of securing eternal life. It is impossible to
mistake the primary reference of these words to our per
sonal application of His Death and Passion to the deepest
need and hunger of our souls ; most difficult, also, to resist
the feeling that, secondarily, they referred to that Holy
Feast which shows forth that Death and Passion, and is to
all time its remembrance, symbol, seal, and fellowship.
6. But to them that heard it, nay even to many of His
disciples, this was an hard saying. It was a thorough dis
enchantment of all their Judaic illusions, an entire upturn
ing of all their Messianic thoughts. The ' meat ' and
'drink' from heaven which had the Divine seal of 'truth'
were, according to Christ's teaching, not ' the Law,' nor yet
Israel's privileges, but fellowship with the Person of Jesus
in that state of humbleness (' the son of Joseph ' b),
nay, of martyrdom, which His words seemed to
indicate, ' My Flesh is the true meat, and My Blood is
• ver. 55 the true drink ; ' c and what even this fellowship
secured consisted only in abiding in Him and
a ver. 56 jje in them ; d or, as they would understand it,
in inner communion with Him, and in sharing His con
dition and views.
Though they spake it not, this was the rock of offence
over which they stumbled and fell. And Jesus read their
thoughts. If they stumbled at this, what when they came
to contemplate the far more mysterious and un-Jewish

Christ the Bread of Life 241
• st. John vi. facts of the Messiah's Crucifixion and Ascension ! a
Truly, not outward following, but only inward
and spiritual life-quickening could be of profit— even in
the case of those who heard the very Words of Christ,
which were spirit and life. Thus it again appeared, and
most fully, that, morally speaking, it was absolutely im-
» ver. 65- possible to come to Him, even if His Words
eomp. w.' were heard, except under the gracious influence
from above.b
And so this was the great crisis in the History of the
Christ. We have traced the gradual growth and develop
ment of the popular movement, till the murder of the
Baptist stirred popular feeling to its inmost depth. With
his death it seemed as if the Messianic hope, awakened by
his preaching and testimony to Christ, were fading from
view. It was a terrible disappointment, not easily borne.
Now must it be decided whether Jesus were really the
Messiah. His Works, notwithstanding what the Pharisees
said, seemed to prove it. That miraculous feeding, that
wilderness-cry of Hosanna to the Galilean King-Messiah
from thousands of Galilean voices — what were they but its
beginning ? All the greater was the disappointment : first,
in the repression of the movement — so to speak, the retreat
of the Messiah, His voluntary abdication, rather, His
defeat ; then, next day, the incongruousness of a King,
Whose few unlearned followers, in their ignorance and un-
Jewish neglect of most sacred ordinances, outraged every
Jewish feeling, and whose conduct was even vindicated by
their Master in a general attack on all traditionalism, that
basis of Judaism — as it might be represented, to the con
tempt of religion and even of common truthfulness in the
denunciation of solemn vows ! This was not the Messiah
• st Matt Whom the many — nay, Whom almost any —
CT- u would own.0
Here, then, we are at the parting of the two ways ;
and, just because it was the hour of decision, did Christ so
clearly set forth the highest truths concerning Himself, in
opposition to the views which the multitude entertained
about the Messiah. The result was yet another and a sorer
R

242 Jesus the Messiah
defection. ' Upon this many of His disciples went back,
•st. John an<i walked no more with Him.'a Nay, the
Ti-66 searching trial reached even unto the hearts of
the Twelve. But one thing kept them true. It was the
experience of the past. This was the basis of their present
faith and allegiance. They could not go back to their old
past ; they must cleave to Him. So Peter spake it in
name of them all : ' Lord, to whom shall we go ? Words
of Eternal Life hast Thou ! ' Nay, and more than this,
as the result of what they had learned: 'And we have
believed and know that Thou art the Holy One
tw.68,69 of God_,b
But of these Twelve Christ knew one to be 'a devil ' —
like that Angel, fallen from highest height to lowest depth.
The apostasy of Judas had already commenced in his heart.
And the greater the popular expectancy and disappoint
ment had been, the greater the reaction and the enmity
that followed.

CHAPTER XLII.
JESUS AND THE SYR0-PH03NICIAN WOMAN.
(St. Matt. xv. 21-28 ; St. Mark vii. 24-30.)
The purpose of Christ to withdraw His disciples from the
excitement of Galilee, and from what might follow the
execution of the Baptist, had been interrupted by the
events at Bethsaida-Julias, but it was not changed.
A comparatively short journey would bring Jesus and
His companions from Capernaum ' into the parts,' or, as
St. Mark more specifically calls them, ' the borders of Tyre
and Sidon.' At that time this district extended, north of
Galilee, from the Mediterranean to the Jordan. But the
event about to be related occurred, as all circumstances
show, not within the territory of Tyre and Sidon, but on
its borders, and within the limits of the Land of Israel.
The whole circumstances seem to point to more than a
night's rest in that distant home. Possibly, the two first

The Syro-Phcenician Woman 243
Passover-days may have been spent here. According to
St. Mark, Jesus ' would have no man know ' His Presence
in that place, ' but He could not be hid,' and the fame of
His Presence spreading into the neighbouring district of
Tyre and Sidon reached the mother of the demonised child.
All this implies a stay of two or three days. And with
this also agrees the after-complaint of the disciples : ' Send
• st. Matt . her away, for she crieth after us.' a As the
"st Mark Saviour apparently received the woman in the
vii. 24, 25 house,b it seems that she must have followed
some of the disciples into Galilee, entreating their help or
intercession in a manner that attracted the attention which,
according to the will of Jesus, they would fain have avoided,
before, in her despair, she ventured into the presence of
Christ within the house.
She who now sought His help was, as St. Matthew
calls her, from the Jewish standpoint, ' a Ca-
naanitish ° woman,' by which term a Jew would
designate a native of Phoenicia, or, as St. Mark calls her,
a Syro-Phcenician (to distinguish her country from Lybo-
Phcenicia), and ' a Greek ' — that is, a heathen. But we
can understand how she would, on hearing of the Christ
and His mighty deeds, seek His help for her child with the
most intense earnestness, and that, in so doing, she would
" st Mark approach Him with lowliest reverence, falling
Tii- 25 at His Feet. d But what, in our view, furnishes
the explanation of the Lord's bearing towards this woman
is her mode of addressing Him : ' 0 Lord, Thou Son of
David ! ' This was the most distinctively Jewish appellation
of the Messiah ; and yet it is emphatically stated of her
that she was a heathen.
Spoken by a heathen, these words were, if used with
out knowledge, an address to a Jewish Messiah, Whose
works were only miracles, and not also and primarily signs.
Now this was exactly the error of the Jews which Jesus
had encountered and combated, alike when He resisted the
attempt to make Him King, in His reply to the Jeru
salem Scribes, and in His Discourses at Capernaum. To
have granted her the help she so entreated would have been,

244 Jesus the Messiah
as it were, to reverse the whole of His Teaching, and to make
His works of healing merely works of power. In her
mouth, the designation meant something to which Christ
could not have yielded. And yet He could not refuse her
petition. And so He first taught her, in such manner as
she could understand, that which she needed to know —
the relation ofthe heathen to the Jewish world, and of both
to the Messiah, and then He gave her what she asked.
She had spoken, but Jesus had answered her not a
word. When the disciples — in some measure, probably,
still sharing the views of this heathen, that He was the
Jewish Messiah — without, indeed, interceding for her,
asked that she might be sent away, because she was,
troublesome to them, He replied that His Mission was only
to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. This was true, as
regarded His Work while upon earth ; and true, in eyery
sense, as we keep in view the world-wide bearing of the
Davidic reign and promises, and the real relation between
Israel and the world. Thus baffled, as it might seem, she
cried no longer ' Son of David,' but ' Lord, help me.' It,
was then that the special teaching came in the manner she
could understand. If it were as 'the Son of David'
that He was entreated — if the heathen woman as such
applied to the Jewish Messiah as such, what, in the Jewish
view, were the heathens but 'dogs,' and what would be
fellowship with them but to cast to the dogs — house-dogs,
it may be — what should have been the children's bread ?
And, certainly, no expression more common in the mouth
of the Jews than that which designated the heathens as
dogs. Most harsh as it was, as the outcome of national
pride and Jewish self-assertion, yet in a sense it was true,
•Bev. xxii. tna* those within were the children, and those
16 'without' 'dogs.'a
Two lessons did she learn with, that instinct-like
rapidity which Christ's personal Presence seemed ever and
again to call forth. 'Yea, Lord,' it is as Thou sayest:
heathenism stands related to Judaism as the house-dogs to
the children, and it were not meet to rob the children of
their bread in order to give it to dogs. But Thine own

Miracles among a Semi-Heathen Population 245
words show that such would not now be the case. If they
are house-dogs, then they are the Master's and under His
table, and when He breaks the bread to the children, in
the breaking of it the crumbs must fall around.
But in so saying she was no longer ' under the table,'
but had sat down at the table with Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob, and was partaker of the children's bread. He was
no longer to her the Jewish Messiah, but truly ' the Son
of David.' She now understood what she prayed, and she
was a daughter of Abraham. And that which had taught
her all this was faith in His Person and Work, as not only
just enough for the Jews, but enough and to spare for all —
children at the table and dogs under it ; that in and with
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and David, all nations were
blessed in Israel's King and Messiah. And so it was that
the Lord said it : '0 woman, great is thy faith : be it
done unto thee even as thou wilt.' Or, as St. Mark puts
it, not quoting the very sound of the Lord's words, but
their impression upon Peter : ' For this saying go thy way ;
the devil is gone out of thy daughter.' ' And her daughter
• st. Matt. was healed from that hour.'a 'And she went
xv. 28 away unto her house, and found her daughter
prostrate [indeed] upon the bed, and [but] the demon
gone out.'

CHAPTER XLIII.
A GROUP OF MIRACLES AMONG A SEMI-HEATHEN POPULATION.
(St. Matt. xv. 29-31; St. Mark vii. 31-37 ; viii. 22-26;
St. Matt. xi. 27-31.)
If even the brief stay of Jesus in that friendly Jewish
home by the borders of Tyre could not remain unknown,
the fame of the healing of the Syro-Phcenician maiden
would soon have rendered impossible that privacy and
retirement, which had been the chief object of His leaving
Capernaum. Accordingly, when the two Paschal days
were ended, He resumed His journey, extending it far
beyond any previously undertaken. The borders of

246 Jesus the Messiah
Palestine proper, though not of what the Rabbis reckoned
as belonging to it, ' were passed. Making a long circuit
through the territory of Sidon, He descended — probably
through one of the passes of the Hermon range — into the
country of the Tetrarch Philip. Thence He continued-
' through the midst of the borders of Decapolis,' till He
once more reached the eastern, or south-eastern, shore of
the Lake of Galilee. It will be remembered that the
Decapolis, or confederacy of ' the Ten Cities,'' was wedged
in between the Tetrarchies of Philip and Antipas. Their
political constitution was that of the free Greek cities.
They were subject only to the Governor of Syria, and
formed part of Coele-Syria, in contradistinction to Syro-
Phcenicia. Their privileges dated from Pompey's time.
It is important to keep in view that, although Jesus
was now within the territory of ancient Israel, the district
and all the surroundings were essentially heathen, although
in closest proximity to that which was purely Jewish. St.
• st. Matt Matthew a gives a general description of Christ's
xv. 29-31 activity there.
They have heard of Him as the wonder-worker, these
heathens in the land so near to, and yet so far from,
Israel ; and they have brought to Him ' the lame, blind,
dumb, maimed, and many others,' and laid them at His
Feet. All disease vanishes in presence of Heaven's Own
Life Incarnate. It is a new era — Israel conquers the
heathen world, not by force, but by love ; not by outward
means, but by the manifestation of life-power from above.
Truly, this is the Messianic conquest and reign : ' and they
glorified the God of Israel.'
One special instance of miraculous healing is recorded
by St. Mark, not only from its intrinsic interest, but, per
haps, also, as in some respects typical.
1. Among those brought to Him was one deaf, whose
speech had, probably in consequence of this, been so affected
as practically to deprive him of its power. This circum
stance, and that he is not spoken of as so afflicted from his
1 For the Rabbinic views of the boundaries of Palestine see
' Sketches of Jewish Social Life,' ch. ii.

Healing of the Deaf and Dumb 247
birth, leads us to infer that the affection was the result of
disease, and not congenital. Remembering that alike the
subject of the miracle and they who brought him were
heathens, but in constant and close contact with Jews,
what follows is vividly true to life. The entreaty to ' lay
His Hand upon him ' was heathen, and yet semi-Jewish
also. Quite peculiar it is, when the Lord took him aside
from the multitude; and again that, using a means of
healing accepted in popular opinion of Jew and Gentile,
' He spat,' applying it directly to the diseased organ. We
read of the direct application of saliva only here and in the
• st. Mark healing of the blind man at Bethsaida." We are
viu. 23 disposed to regard this as peculiar to the healing
of Gentiles. Peculiar, also, is the term expressive of
burden on the mind, when, ' looking up to heaven, He
sighed.' Peculiar, also, is the ' thrusting ' of His Fingers
into the man's ears, and the touch of his tongue. Only
the upward look to heaven, and the command ' Ephphatha '
— ' be opened ' — seem the same as in His everyday won
ders of healing. But we mark that all here seems more
elaborate than in Israel. The reason of this must, of
course, be sought in the moral condition of the person
healed. There is an accumulation of means, yet each and
all inadequate to effect the purpose, but all connected with
His Person. This elaborate use of such means would
banish the idea of magic ; it would arouse the attention,
and fix it upon Christ as using these means, which were
all connected with His own Person.
It was in vain to enjoin silence. Wider and wider
spread the unbidden fame, till it was caught up in this
hymn of praise : ' He hath done all things well — He
maketh even the deaf to hear, and the dumb to speak.'
» st. Mark 2. Another miracle is recorded by St. Mark,b
vm. 22-26 as wrought by Jesus in these parts, and, as we
infer, on a heathen. All the circumstances are kindred to
those just related. It was in Bethsaida- Julias that one
blind was brought unto Him, with the entreaty that He
would touch him, — just as in the case of the deaf and
dumb. Here, also, the Saviour took him aside — ' led him

248 Jesus the Messiah
out of the village ' — and ' spat on his eyes, and put His
Hands upon him.' We mark not only the similarity of
the means employed, but the same, and even greater ela
borateness in the use of them, since a twofold touch is
recorded before the man saw clearly. So far as we can
judge, the object was, by a gradual process of healing,
to disabuse the man of any idea of magical cure, while at
the same time the process of healing again markedly
centred in the Person of Jesus. With this also agrees (as
in the case of the deaf and dumb) the use of spittle in the
healing. We may here recall that the use of saliva was a
well-known Jewish remedy for affections of the eyes.
3. Yet a third miracle of healing requires to be here
considered, although related by St. Matthew in another
• st. Matt, connection.3- But we have learned enough of the
ix. 27-31 structure of the first Gospel to know that its
arrangement is determined by the plan of the writer rather
than by the chronological succession of events. The man
ner in which the Lord healed the two blind men, the
injunction of silence, and the notice that none the less
they spread His fame in all that land, seem to imply that
He was not on the ordinary scene of His labours in
Galilee. Nor can we fail to mark an internal analogy
between this and the other two miracles enacted amidst a
chiefly Grecian population. And, strange though it may
sound, the cry with which the two blind men who sought
His help followed Him, ' Son of David, have mercy on us,'
comes more frequently from Gentile than from Jewish lips.
It was, of course, pre-eminently the Jewish designation of
the Messiah, the basis of all Jewish thought of Him. But
we can understand how to Gentiles who resided in Palestine
the Messiah of Israel would chiefly stand out as ' the Son
of David.' It was the most ready, and, at the same time,
the most universal, form in which the great Jewish hope
could be viewed by them.
Peculiar to this history is the testing question of
Christ, whether they really believed what their petition
implied, that He was able to restore their sight; and,
again, His stern, almost passionate, insistence on their

Two Sabbath-Controversies 249
silence as to the mode of their cure. Only on one other
occasion do we read of the same insistence. It is, when
the leper had expressed the same absolute faith in Christ's
ability to heal if He willed it, and Jesus had, as in the
case of these two blind men, conferred the benefit by the
•st. Mark i. touch of His Hand.3, In both these cases, it is
40,41 remarkable that, along with strongest faith of
those who came to Him, there was rather an implied than
an expressed petition on their part. The leper who knelt
before Him only said : ' Lord, if Thou wilt, Thou canst
make me clean ; ' and the two blind men : ' Have mercy on
us, Thou Son of David.' Thus it is the highest and most
realising faith which is most absolute in its trust, and most
reticent as regards the details of its request.

CHAPTER XLIV.

THE TWO SABBATH-CONTROVERSIES — THE PLUCKING OF THE
EARS OF CORN BY THE DISCIPLES, AND THE HEALING
OF THE MAN WITH THE WITHERED HAND.
(St. Matt. xii. 1-21 ; Stf. Mark ii. 23-iii. 6 ; St. Luke vi. 1-11.)
In grouping together the three miracles of healing de
scribed in the last chapter, we do not wish to convey that
it is certain they had taken place in precisely that order.
From their position in the Evangelic narratives we inferred
that they happened at that particular period and east of the
Jordan. They differ from the events about to be related
by the absence of the Jerusalem Scribes, who hung on the
footsteps of Jesus. While the Saviour tarried on the
borders of Tyre, and thence passed through the terri
tory of Sidon into the Decapolis and to the southern and
eastern shores of the Lake of Galilee, they were in Jeru
salem at the Passover. But after the two festive days,
which would require their attendance in the Temple, they
seem to have returned. And the events about to be
related are chronologically distinguished from those that

2 so Jesus the Messiah
had preceded by this presence and opposition of the Pha
risaic party. The contest now becomes more decided and
sharp, and we are rapidly nearing the period when He,
Who had hitherto been chiefly preaching the Kingdom,
and healing body and soul, will, through the hostility of
the leaders of Is*rael, enter on the second, or prevailingly
negative stage of His Work.
Where fundamental principles were so directly contrary,
the occasion for conflict could not be long wanting. In
deed, all that Jesus taught must have seemed to these
Pharisees strangely un-Jewish in cast and direction, even
if not in form and words. But chiefly would this be the
case in regard to that on which, of all else, the Pharisees
laid most stress : the observance of the Sabbath. On no
other subject is Rabbinic teaching more minute and more
manifestly incongruous to its professed object. For, if we
rightly apprehend what underlay the complicated and in
tolerably burdensome laws and rules of the Pharisaic
Sabbath-observance, it was to secure, negatively, absolute
rest from all labour, and, positively, to make the Sabbath
a delight. The Mishnah includes Sabbath-desecration
among those most heinous crimes for which a man was to
be stoned. This, then, was their first care : by a series of
complicated ordinances to make a breach of the Sabbath-
rest impossible. The next object was, in a similarly ex
ternal manner, to make the Sabbath a delight. A special
Sabbath dress, the best that could be procured ; the choicest
food, even though a man had to work for it all the week,
or public charity were to supply it — such were some of the
means by which the day was to be honoured and men were
to find pleasure therein. The strangest stories are told,
how, by the purchase of the most expensive dishes, the pious
poor had gained unspeakable merit, and obtained, even on
earth, Heaven's manifest reward. And yet, by the side of
these and similar misdirections of piety, we come also upon
that which is touching, beautiful, and even spiritual. On
the Sabbath there must be no mourning, for to the Sabbath
• in Prov. x. applies this saying : a ' The blessing of the Lord,
22 it maketh rich, and He addeth no sorrow with it.'

The Plucking of the Ears of Corn 251
Quite alone was the Sabbath among the measures of time.
Every other day had been paired with its fellow : not so
the Sabbath. And so any festival, even the Day of Atone
ment, might be transferred to another day : not so the
observance ofthe Sabbath. Nay, when the Sabbath com
plained before God that of all days it alone stood solitary,
God had wedded it to Israel ; and this holy union God had
bidden His people ' remember,' a when they stood
before the Mount. Even the tortures of Gehenna
were intermitted on that holy, happy day.
Jewish Law sufficiently explains the controversies in
which the Pharisaic party now engaged with Jesus. Of
these the first was when, going through the cornfields on
the Sabbath, His disciples began to pluck and eat the ears
of corn. This first Sabbath-controversy is immediately followed
by that connected with the healing of the man with the
withered hand. From St. Matthew and St. Mark it might
appear as if this had occurred on the same day as the
plucking of the ears of corn, but St. Luke corrects any
possible misunderstanding by telling us that it happened
' on another Sabbath ' — perhaps that following the walk
through the cornfields.
It was probably on the Sabbath after the Second Pas
chal Day that, as Christ and His disciples passed through
» st Mat- cornfields, His disciples, being hungry,6 as they
thew went,0 plucked ears of corn and ate them, having
« st. LuL rubbed off the husks in their hands.d On any
• Deut xxui. or(jinary <jay this would have been lawful,* but
on the Sabbath it involved, according to Rabbinic statutes,
at least two sins. For, according to the Talmud, what
was really one labour, would, if made up of several acts,
each of them forbidden, amount to several acts of labour,
each involving sin, punishment, and a sin-offering. Now
in this case there were at least two such acts involved :
that of plucking the ears of corn, ranged under the sin of
reaping, and that of rubbing them, which might be ranged
under sifting in a sieve, threshing, sifting out fruit, grind
ing, or fanning.

252 Jesus the Messiah
Holding views like these, the Pharisees, who witnessed
the conduct of the disciples, would naturally condemn
what they must have regarded as gross desecration of the
Sabbath. Yet it was clearly not a breach of the Biblical,
but of the Rabbinic Law. Not only to show them then-
error, but to lay down principles which would for ever
apply to this difficult question, was the object of Christ's
reply. Unlike the others of the Ten Commandments, the
Sabbath Law has in it two elements : the moral and the
ceremonial ; the eternal, and that which is subject to time
and place ; the inward and spiritual, and the outward (the
one as the mode of realising the other). In their distinc
tion and separation lies the difficulty of the subject. In
its spiritual and eternal element, the Sabbath Law em
bodied the two thoughts of rest for worship, and worship
which pointed to rest. The keeping of the seventh day,
and the Jewish mode of its observance, were the temporal
and outward form in which these eternal principles were
presented. Even Rabbinism, in some measure, perceived
this. It was a principle that danger to the life of an
Israelite, but not of a heathen or Samaritan, superseded
the Sabbath Law, and, indeed, all other obligations. It
was argued that a man was to keep the commandments
that he might live — certainly not, that by so doing he
might die. Yet this other and kindred principle did Rab
binism lay down, that every positive commandment super
seded the Sabbath-rest. This was the ultimate vindication
of work in the Temple, although certainly not its explana
tion. Lastly, we should, in this connection, include this
important canon, laid down by the Rabbis : ' a single
Rabbinic prohibition is not to be heeded, where a graver
matter is in question.'
These points must be kept in view for the proper
understanding of the words of Christ to the Scribes. For,
while going far beyond the times and notions of His ques
tioners, His reasoning must have been within their com
prehension. Hence the first argument of our Lord, as
recorded by all the Synoptists, was taken from Biblical
history. When, on his flight from Saul, David had,

The Sabbath-Law 253
' when an hungered,' eaten of the shewbread, and given it
to his followers, although, by the letter of the Levitical
• Lev. xxiv. Law,a it was only to be eaten by the priests,
6"9- Jewish tradition vindicated his conduct on the
plea that ' danger to life superseded the Sabbath-Law,'
and hence all laws connected with it ; while, to show
David's zeal for the Sabbath-Law, the legend was added
that he had reproved the priests of Nob, who had been
baking the shewbread on the Sabbath. To the first argu
ment of Christ St. Matthew adds this as His second,
that the priests, in their services in the Temple, necessarily
broke the Sabbath-Law without thereby incurring guilt.
In truth, the Sabbath-Law was not one merely of rest,
but of rest for worship. The Service of the Lord was the
object in view. The priests worked on the Sabbath, be
cause this service was the object of the Sabbath ; and
David was allowed to eat of the shewbread, not because
there was danger to fife from starvation, but because he
pleaded that he was on the service of the Lord, and needed
this provision.
To this St. Mark adds as a corollary : ' The Sabbath
was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath.' It is
remarkable that a similar argument is used by the Rabbis.
When insisting that the Sabbath-Law should be set aside
to avoid danger to life, it is urged : ' the Sabbath is handed
over to you ; not, ye are handed over to the Sabbath.'
Lastly, the three Evangelists record this as the final out
come of His teaching on this subject, that ' The Son of
Man is Lord of the Sabbath also.' The Service of God,
and the Service of the Temple, by universal consent,
superseded the Sabbath-Law. But Christ was greater
than the Temple, and His Service more truly that of God,
and higher than that of the outward Temple — and the
Sabbath was intended for man, to serve God : therefore
Christ and His Service were superior to the Sabbath-Law.
Thus much would be intelligible to these Pharisees,
although they would not receive it, because they believed
not on Him as the Sent of God.
But to us the words mean more than this. We are

254 Jesus the Messiah
free while we are doing anything for Christ; God loves
mercy, and demands not sacrifice ; His sacrifice is the
service of Christ, in heart, and life, and work. We are
not free to do anything we please ; but we are free to do
anything needful or helpful, while we are doing any ser
vice to Christ. He is the Lord of the Sabbath, Whom we
serve in and through the Sabbath.
The question as between Christ and the Pharisees was
not, however, to end here. ' On another Sabbath ' — pro
bably that following — He was in their Synagogue.
Whether or not the Pharisees had brought ' the man with
the withered hand ' on purpose, or otherwise raised the
question, certain it is that their secret object was to com
mit Christ to some word or deed, which would lay Him
open to the capital charge of breaking the Sabbath-Law.
It does not appear whether the man with the withered
hand was consciously or unconsciously their tool. But in
this .they judged rightly : that Christ would not witness
disease without removing it — or, as we might express it,
that disease could not continue in the Presence of Him
Who was the Life. He read their inward thoughts of evil,
and yet He proceeded to do the good which He purposed.
So much unclearness prevails as to the Jewish views
about healing on the Sabbath that some connected infor
mation on the subject seems needful. We have already
seen that in their view only actual danger to life warranted
a breach of the Sabbath-Law. But this opened a large
field for discussion. Thus, according to some, disease of
the ear, according to some throat-disease, while, according
to others, such a disease as angina, involved danger, and
superseded the Sabbath-Law. All applications to the out
side of the body were forbidden on the Sabbath. As
regarded internal remedies, such substances as were used
in health, but had also a remedial effect, might be taken,
although here also there was a way of evading the Law.
A person suffering from toothache might not gargle his
mouth with vinegar, but he might use an ordinary tooth
brush and dip it in vinegar. Medical aid might be called
in if a persoD had swallowed a piece of glass ; a splinter

Healing the Man with the Withered Hand 255
might be removed from the eye, and even a thorn from
the body.
But although the man with the withered hand could
not be classed with those dangerously ill, it could not have
been difficult to silence the Rabbis on their own admissions.
Clearly, their principle implied that it was lawful on the
Sabbath to do that which would save life or prevent death.
But if so, did it not also, in strictly logical sequence, imply
this far wider principle, that it must be lawful to do good
on the Sabbath ? There was no answer to such an argu
ment ; St. Mark expressly records that they dared not
• st Mark attempt a reply." On the other hand, St.
'"stMatt. Matthew, while alluding to this challenge,b re-
xii. 12 cords yet another and a personal argument. It
seems that Christ publicly appealed to them : If any poor
man among them, who had one sheep, were in danger of
losing it through it having fallen into a pit, would he not
lift it out ? To be sure, the Rabbinic Law ordered that food
and drink should be lowered to it, or else that some means
should be furnished by which it might either be kept up
in the pit, or enabled to come out of it. And was not the
life of a human being to be more accounted of ?
We can now imagine the scene in that Synagogue.
The place is crowded. Christ probably occupies a promi
nent position as leading the prayers or teaching : a position
whence He can see, and be seen by all. Here, eagerly
bending forward, are the dark faces of the Pharisees, ex
pressive of curiosity, malice, cunning. They are looking
« st. Luke round at a man whose right hand is withered,0
*•¦ 6 perhaps putting him forward, drawing attention
to him, loudly whispering, ' Is it lawful to heal on the
Sabbath-day?' The Lord takes up the challenge. He
bids the man stand forth — right in the midst of them,
where they might all see and hear. By one of those telling
appeals, which go straight to the conscience, He puts the
analogous case of a poor man who was in danger of losing
his only sheep on the Sabbath : would he not rescue it ;
and was not a man better than a sheep ? Nay, did they
not themselves enjoin a breach of the Sabbath-Law to save

256 Jesus the Messiah
human life ? Then must He not do so ; might He not dp
good rather than evil ?
They were speechless. But a strange mixture of feel
ing was in the Saviour's heart : 'And when He had looked
round about on them with anger, being grieved at the
hardening of their heart.' It was but for a moment, and
then He bade the man stretch forth his hand. Withered
it was no longer, when the Word had been spoken. A
fresh life had streamed into it, as, following the Saviour's
Eye and Word, he slowly stretched it forth. And as he
stretched it forth, his hand was restored. The Saviour
had broken their Sabbath-Law, and yet He had not broken
it, for neither by remedy, nor touch, nor outward applica
tion had He healed him. He had broken the Sabbath-rest,
as God breaks it, when He sends, or sustains, or restores
life, or does good.
They had all seen it, this miracle of almost new creation.
• st Luke As *ney saw fy ' they were filled with madness.' a
¦"¦ u They could not gainsay, but they went forth and
took counsel with the Herodians against Him, how they
might destroy Him. Presumably, then, He was within, or
quite close by, the dominions of Herod, east of the Jordan.
And the Lord withdrew once more, as it seems to us, into
Gentile territory, probably that of the Decapolis. For, as
He went about healing all that needed it in that great
multitude that followed His steps, yet enjoining silence
on them, this prophecy of Isaiah blazed into fulfilment :
' Behold My Servant, Whom I have chosen, My Beloved,
in Whom My soul is well-pleased ; I will put My Spirit
upon Him, and He shall declare judgment to the Gentiles.
He shall not strive nor cry aloud, neither shall any hear
His Voice in the streets. A bruised reed shall He not
break, and smoking flax shall He not quench, till He send
forth judgment unto victory. And in His Name shall the
Gentiles trust.'

257

CHAPTER XLV.
THE FEEDING OF THE FOUR THOUSAND — ' THE SIGN FROM
HEAVEN '
(St. Matt. xv. 32^xvi. 12 ; St. Mark viii. 1-21.)
It is remarkable that each time Christ's prolonged stay
and Ministry in a district were brought to a close with
some supper, so to speak, some festive entertainment on
His part. The Galilean Ministry had closed with the feed
ing of the five thousand, the guests being mostly from
Capernaum and the towns around, as far as Bethsaida
(Julias), many in the number probably on their way to the
Paschal Feast at Jerusalem. But now at the second pro
vision for the four thousand, with which His Decapolis
Ministry closed, the guests were not strictly Jews, but
semi-Gentile inhabitants of that district and its neighbour
hood. Lastly, His Judasan Ministry closed with the Last
Supper. At the first ' Supper,' the Jewish guests would
fain have proclaimed Him Messiah-King ; at the second,
as ' the Son of Man,' He gave food to those Gentile multi
tudes which, having been with Him those days, and con
sumed all their victuals during their stay with Him, He
could not send away fasting, lest they should faint by the
way. And on the last occasion, as the true Priest and
Sacrifice, He fed His own with the true Paschal Feast ere
He sent them forth alone into the wilderness. Thus these
three ' Suppers ' seem connected, each leading up, as it
were, to the other.
There can be little doubt that this second feeding of
the multitude took place in the Gentile Decapolis, and that
those who sat down to the meal were chiefly the inhabitants
of that district. If it be lawful, departing from strict
history, to study the symbolism of this event, as compared
with the previous feeding of the five thousand who were
Jews, somewhat singular differences will present themselves s

258 Jesus the Messiah
to the mind. On the former occasion there were five
thousand fed with five loaves, when twelve baskets of frag
ments were left. On the second occasion, four thousand
were fed from seven loaves, and seven baskets of fragments
collected. It is at least curious that the number five in
the provision for the Jews is that of the Pentateuch, just
as the number twelve corresponds to that of the tribes and
of the Apostles. On the other hand, in the feeding of the
Gentiles we mark the number four, which is the signature
of the world, and seven, which is that of the Sanctuary.
On all general points the narratives of the twofold
miraculous feeding run so parallel that it is not necessary
again to consider this event in detail. But the attendant
circumstances are quite unlike. There are broad lines of
difference as to the number of persons, the provision, and
the quantity of fragments left. On the former occasion
the repast was provided in the evening for those who had
gone after Christ, and listened to Him all day ; who had
been so busy for the Bread of Life that they had forgotten
that of earth. But on this second occasion, of the feeding
of the Gentiles, the multitude had been three days with
Him, and what sustenance they had brought must have
failed, when, in His compassion, the Saviour would not
send them to their homes fasting, lest they should faint by
the way. And it must be kept in view that Christ dis
missed them, not, as before, because they would have made
Him their King. Yet another marked difference lies even
in the designation of ' the baskets ' in which the fragments
left were gathered. At the first feeding they were, as the
Greek word shows, the small wicker-baskets which each of
the Twelve would carry in his hand. At the second feed
ing they were the large baskets, in which provisions, chiefly
bread, were stored or carried for longer voyages. For on
the first occasion, when they passed into Israelitish terri
tory — and, as they might think, left their home for a very
brief time — there was not the same need to make provision
for storing necessaries as on the second, when they were on
a lengthened journey, and passing through or tarrying in
Gentile territory.

The Feeding of the Four Thousand 259
But the most noteworthy difference seems to us this :
that on the first occasion they who were fed were Jews ;
on the second, Gentiles. There is a little trait in the
narrative which affords striking, though undesigned, evi
dence of this. In referring to the blessing which Jesus
spake over the first meal, it was noted that, in strict
accordance with Jewish custom, He only rendered thanks
once over the bread. But no such custom would rule His
conduct when dispensing the food to the Gentiles ; and,
indeed, His speaking the blessing only over the bread,
while He was silent when distributing the fishes, would
probably have given rise to misunderstanding. Accord
ingly, we find it expressly stated that He not only gave
•st. Mark thanks over the bread, but also spake the bless-
yiu. 6, 7 ing oyer thQ fj^gga JJor g^ou^ we> when mar^._
ing such undesigned evidence, omit to notice that on the
first occasion, which was immediately before the Passover,
the guests were, as three of the Evangelists expressly
»st.Matt state; ranged on 'the grass,' b while, on the
Itr'Markvt Present occasion, which must have been several
39; st John weeks later, when in the East the grass would
be burnt up, we are told by the two Evangelists
that they sat on ' the ground.'
On the occasion referred to in the preceding narrative,
those who had lately taken counsel together against Jesus —
the Pharisees and the Herodians, or, to put it otherwise,
the Pharisees and Sadducees — were not present. For those
who, politically speaking, were ' Herodians ' might also,
though perhaps not religiously speaking, yet from the
Jewish standpoint of St. Matthew, be designated as, or
else include, Sadducees. But they were soon to reappear
on the scene, as Jesus came close to the Jewish territory
of Herod. As Jesus sent away the multitude whom He
had fed, He took ship with His disciples, and 'came into
• st Matt the borders of Magadan,' c or, as St. Mark puts it,
XT- 3S> ' the parts of Dalmanutha.' Neither ' Magadan '
nor ' Dalmanutha ' has been identified. This only we infer,
that the place was close to, yet not within the boundary
of strictly Jewish territory ; since on His arrival there the

26b Jesus the Messiah
Pharisees are said to ' come forth ' a — a word which
• st Mark implies that they resided elsewhere, though, of
viii. n course, in the neighbourhood. We can quite
understand the challenge on the part of Sadducees of ' a
sign from heaven.' They would disbelieve the heavenly
Mission of Christ, or, indeed, to use a modern term, any
supra-naturalistic connection between heaven and earth.
But in the mouth of the Pharisees also it had a special
meaning. Certain supposed miracles had been either wit
nessed by, or testified to them, as done by Christ. As
they now represented it — since Christ laid claims which
in their view were inconsistent with the doctrine received
in Israel, preached a Kingdom quite other than that of
Jewish expectancy, was at issue with all Jewish customs,
more than this, was a breaker of the Law, in its most
important commandments, as they understood them — it
followed that, according to Deut. xiii., He was a false
prophet, who was not to be listened to. Then, also, must
the miracles which He did have been wrought by the power
of Beelzebul, ' the lord of idolatrous worship,' the very
prince of devils. But had there been real signs, and
might it not all have been an illusion ? Let Him show
them ' a sign,' and let that sign come direct from heaven !
It is said that Rabbi Eliezer, when his teaching was
challenged, successfully appealed to certain ' signs.' First, a
locust tree moved at his bidding one hundred, or according
to some, four hundred cubits. Next the channels of water
were made to flow backwards. Then the walls of the
Academy leaned forward, and were only arrested at the
bidding of another Rabbi. Lastly, Eliezer exclaimed : ' If
the Law is as I teach, let it be proved from heaven ! ' when
a voice fell from the sky : ' What have ye to do with Rabbi
Eliezer, for the Halakhah is as he teaches ? '
It was, therefore, no strange thing, when the Pharisees
asked of Jesus ' a sign from heaven,' to attest His claims
and teaching. The answer which He gave was among
the most solemn which the leaders of Israel could have
heard. They had asked Him virtually for some sign of
His Messiahship ; some striking vindication from heaven

The ' Sign from Heaven 261
of His claims. It would be given them only too soon.
By the light of the flames of Jerusalem and the Sanctuary
were the words on the Cross to be read again. The burn
ing of Jerusalem was God's answer to the Jews' cry,
' Away with Him — we have no king but Caesar ; ' the
thousands of crosses on which the Romans hanged their
captives, the terrible counterpart of the Cross on Golgotha.
It was to this that Jesus referred in His reply to the
Pharisees and ' Sadducean ' Herodians. Men could dis
cern by the appearance of the sky whether the day would
be fair or stormy. And yet, when all the signs of the
gathering storm that would destroy their city and people,
were clearly visible, they, the leaders of the people, failed
to perceive them ! Israel asked for ' a sign ' — but none
should be given the doomed land and city other than that
which had been given to Nineveh : ' the sign of Jonah.'
The only sign to Nineveh was Jonah's solemn warning
and call to repentance ; and the only sign now, or rather,
¦ st. Mark ' unto this generation no sign,' a was the warn-
*st.Lnke in§ CI7 °f judgment and the loving call to
xix. 4i-i4 repentance.b
It was but a natural sequence that ' He left them
and departed.' Once more the ship bore Him and His
disciples towards the coast of Bethsaida-Julias. He was
on his way to the utmost limit of the land, to Caesarea
Philippi, in pursuit of His purpose to delay the final con
flict. For the great crisis must begin, as it would end,
in Jerusalem, and at the Feast; it would begin at the
• st John Feast of Tabernacles,0 and it would end at the
™- following Passover. But by the way the disciples
themselves showed how little even they, who had so long
and closely followed Christ, understood His teaching, and
how prone to misapprehension their spiritual duluess
rendered them.
When the Lord touched the other shore, His mind and
heart were still full of the scene from which He had lately
passed. For truly on this demand for a sign did the
future of Israel seem to hang. And now, when they
landed, they carried ashore the empty provision baskets ;

262 Jesus the Messiah
for, as, with his usual attention to details, St. Mark notes,
they had only brought one loaf of bread with them. In
fact, in the excitement and hurry 'they forgot to take
bread.' Whether or not something connected with this
arrested the attention of Christ, He broke the silence,
speaking that which was so much on His mind. He
warned them, as greatly they needed it, of the leaven
with which Pharisees and Sadducees had, each in their
own manner, leavened, and so corrupted, the holy bread
of Scripture-truth. The disciples, aware that in their
hurry and excitement they had forgotten bread, mis
understood these words of Christ. They thought the words
implied that in His view they had not forgotten to bring
bread, but purposely omitted to do so, in order, like the
Pharisees and Sadducees, to ' seek of Him a sign ' of His
Divine Messiahship — nay, to oblige Him to show such:
that of miraculous provision in their want. The mere
suspicion showed what was in their minds, and pointed to
their danger. This explains how, in His reply, Jesus re
proved them, not for utter want of discernment, but only
for 'little faith.' It was their lack of faith — the very
leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees — which had sug
gested such a thought. Again, if the experience of the
past had taught them anything, it should have been to
believe that the needful provision of their wants by Christ
was not 'a sign,' such as the Pharisees had asked, but
what faith might ever expect from Christ, when following
after or waiting upon Him. Then understood they
truly that it was not of the leaven of bread that He had
bidden them beware, but pointed to the far more real
danger of ' the teaching of the Pharisees and Sadducees,'
which had underlain the demand for a sign from heaven.

263

CHAPTER XLVI.
THE GREAT CONFESSION — THE GREAT COMMISSION
(St. Matt. xvi. 13-28 ; St. Mark viii. 27-ix. 1 ; St. Luke ix. 18-27.)
If we are right in identifying the little bay — Dalmanutha
— with the neighbourhood of Tarichaea, yet another link
of strange coincidence connects the prophetic warning
spoken there with its fulfilment. From Dalmanutha our
Lord passed across the Lake to Caesarea Philippi. From
Caesarea Philippi did Vespasian pass through Tiberias
to Tarichaea, when the town and people were destroyed,
and the blood of the fugitives reddened the Lake, and
their bodies choked its waters. Even amidst the horrors
of the last Jewish war, few spectacles could" have been so
sickening as that of the wild stand at Tarichasa, ending
with the butchery of 6,500 on land and sea ; and lastly, the
vile treachery by which they to whom mercy had been
promised were lured into the circus at Tiberias, when
the weak and old, to the number of about 1,200, were
slaughtered, and the rest — upwards of 30,400 — sold into
slavery. Well might He, who foresaw and foretold that
terrible end, standing on that spot, deeply sigh in spirit
as He spake to them who asked ' a sign,' and yet saw not
what even ordinary discernment might have perceived of
the red and lowering sky overhead.
From Dalmanutha, across the Lake, then by the plain
where so lately the five thousand had been fed, and near
to Bethsaida, would the road of Christ and His disciples
lead to the capital of the Tetrarch Philip, the ancient
Paneas, or, as it was then called, Cassarea Philippi, the
modern Banias.
The situation of the ancient Caesarea Philippi (1,147
feet above the sea) is, indeed, magnificent. Nestling amid
three valleys on a terrace in the angle of Hermon, it is
almost shut out from view by cliffs and woods. The

264 Jesus the Messiah
western side of a steep mountain, crowned by the ruins of
an ancient castle, forms an abrupt rock- wall. Here from
out an immense cavern bursts a river. These are ' the
upper sources' of the Jordan. This cave, an ancient
sanctuary of Pan, gave its earliest name of Paneas to the
town. Here Herod, when receiving the tetrarchy from
Augustus, built a temple in his honour. On the rocky
wall close by, votive niches may still be traced, one of them
bearing the Greek inscription, ' Priest of Pan.' When
Herod's son, Philip, received the tetrarchy, he enlarged
and greatly beautified the ancient Paneas, and called it in
honour of the Emperor, Cassarea Philippi.
It was into this chiefly Gentile district that the Lord
now withdrew with His disciples after that last and de
cisive question of the Pharisees. It was here that as His
question, like Moses' rod, struck their hearts, there leaped
from the lips of Peter the living, life-spreading waters of
his confession. It may have been that this rock-wall
below the castle, from under which sprang Jordan, or the
rock on which the castle stood, supplied the material sug
gestion for Christ's words : ' Thou art Peter, and on this
rock will I build My Church.' In Caesarea, or its im
mediate neighbourhood, did the Lord spend with His dis
ciples six days after this confession ; and here, close by,
on one of the heights of snowy Hermon, was the scene of
„ . the Transfiguration, the light of which shone
•2 Pet. i. 19 . °
for ever into the hearts of the disciples on their
dark and tangled path.a
The trial to which Jesus had put His disciples' faith at
Capernaum was only renewed and deepened by all that
followed. It should be remembered that His refusal to
meet the challenge of ' a sign' ofthe Sadducees must have
left the impression of a virtual defeat, while His subsequent
'hard sayings' led to the defection of many. Un
doubtedly the faith of the disciples had been greatly tried,
as appears also from the question of Christ : ' Will ye also
go away ? ' But here it was their whole past experience in
following Him which enabled them to overcome. Almost
like a cry of despair goes up that shout of victory : ' Lord,

Peter's Great Confession 265
to whom shall we go ? Thou hast the words of eternal
life.' We shall, perhaps, best understand the progress of
this trial when following it in him who, at last, made ship
wreck of his faith : Judas Iscariot. Without attempting
to penetrate the Satanic element in his apostasy, we may
trace his course in its psychological development. We
must not regard Judas as a monster, but as one with
like passions as ourselves. True, there was one terrible
master-passion in his soul — covetousness ; but that was
only the downward, lower aspect of what seems, and to
many really is, that which leads to the higher and better —
ambition. It had been thoughts of Israel's King which
had first set his imagination on fire, and brought him to
follow the Messiah. Gradually, increasingly, came the
disenchantment. It was quite another Kingdom, that of
Christ ; quite another Kingship than what had set Judas
aglow. This feeling was deepened as events proceeded.
His confidence must have been rudely shaken when the
Baptist was beheaded. Then came the next disappoint
ment, when Jesus would not be made King. Why not —
if He were King? And so on, step by step, till the final
depth was reached, when Jesus would not, or could not —
which was it ? — meet the public challenge of the Pharisees.
We take it that it was then that the leaven pervaded
and leavened Judas in heart and soul.
We repeat that what so permanently penetrated Judas
could not (as Christ's warning shows) have left the others
wholly unaffected. The very presence of Judas with them
must have had its influence. The littleness of their faith
required correction ; it must grow and become strong.
And so we can understand what follows. It was after
» st Luke solitary prayer — no doubt for them a — that, with
**• I8 reference to the challenge of the Pharisees, ' the
leaven ' that threatened them, He now gathered up all their
experience of the past by putting to them the question,
what men, the people who had watched His Works and
heard His Words, regarded Him as being. Even on them
some conviction had been wrought by their observance of

266 Jesus the Messiah
Him. It marked Him out (as the disciples said) as dif
ferent from all around, nay, from all ordinary men : like
the Baptist, or Elijah, or as if He were one of the old
prophets alive again. But, if even the multitude had
gathered such knowledge of Him, what was their experience
who had always been with Him ? Answered he, who most
truly represented the Church, because he combined with
the most advanced experience of the three most intimate
disciples the utmost boldness of confession : ' Thou art the
Christ ! '
And so in part was this ' leaven ' of the Pharisees
purged ! Yet not wholly. For then it was that Christ
spake to them of His sufferings and death, and that the
resistance of Peter showed how deeply that leaven had
penetrated. And then followed the grand contrast pre
sented by Christ, between minding the things of men
and those of God, with the warning which it implied, and
the monition as to the necessity of bearing the cross of
contempt, and the absolute call to do so, as addressed
to those who would be His disciples. Here, then, the
contest about ' the sign,' or rather the challenge about the
Messiahship, was carried from the mental into the moral
sphere, and so decided. Six days more of quiet waiting
and growth of faith, and it was met, rewarded, crowned, and
perfected by the sight on the Mount of Transfiguration ;
yet, even so, perceived only as through the heaviness of sleep.
We are probably correct in supposing that popular
opinion did not point to Christ as literally the Baptist,
Elijah, Jeremiah, or one of the other prophets who had
long been dead. Rather would it mean that some saw in
Him the continuation of the work of John, as heralding
and preparing the way of the Messiah, or, if they did not
believe in John, of that of Elijah ; while to others He
seemed a second Jeremiah, denouncing woe on Israel, and
calling to tardy repentance : or else one of those old pro
phets, who had spoken either of the near judgment or of
the coming glory. But however men differed on these
points, in this all agreed, that they regarded Him not as
an ordinary man or teacher, but His Mission as straight

Peter's Great Confession 267
from heaven ; and in this also, that they did not view Him
as the Messiah.
There is a significant emphasis in the words with
which Jesus turned from the opinion of ' the multitudes '
to elicit the faith of the disciples : ' But you, whom do
you say that I am ? ' In that moment it leaped, by the
power of God, to the lips of Peter : ' Thou art the Christ
• stMatt C^6 Messiah), the Son ofthe Living God.'" St.
xvi. w Chrysostom has beautifully designated Peter as
c the mouth of the Apostles ' — and we recall, in this con
nection, the words of St. Paul as casting light on the re
presentative character of Peter's confession as that of the
Church, and hence on the meaning of Christ's reply, and
its equally representative application : ' With the
mouth confession is made unto salvation.' b The
words of the confession are given somewhat differently by
the three Evangelists. From our standpoint, the briefest
form (that of St. Mark) : ' Thou art the Christ,' means
quite as much as the fullest (that of St. Matthew) : ' Thou
art the Christ, the Son of the Living God.' We can thus
understand how the latter might be truthfully adopted,
and, indeed, would be the most truthful, accurate, and
suitable in a Gospel primarily written for the Jews. And
here we notice that the most exact form of the words
seems that in the Gospel of St. Luke : ' The Christ of God.'
Previously to the confession of Peter, the ship's com
pany, that had witnessed His walking on the water, had
c st Matt owned : '• Of a truth Thou art the Son of God,' °
xiv. 33 \yuji not in the sense in which a well-informed,
believing Jew would hail Him as, the Messiah, and 'the
Son of the Living God,' designating both His Office and
His Nature — and these two in their combination. Again,
Peter himself had made a confession of Christ, when, after
a st. John His Discourse at Capernaum, so many of His
Ti- 69 disciples had forsaken Him. It had been : ' We
have believed, and know that Thou art the Holy One of
God.'d But now he has consciously reached the firm ground
of Messianic acknowledgment. All else is implied in this,

268 Jesus the Messiah
and would follow from it. It is the first real confession
• stLuke of tne Church. We can understand how it fol-
ix. is lowed after solitary prayer by Christ a — we can
scarcely doubt, for that very revelation by the Father, which
He afterwards joyously recognised in the words of Peter.
The reply of the Saviour is only recorded by St.
Matthew. The whole form is Hebraistic. The ' blessed
art thou ' is Jewish ; the address, ' Simon bar Jona,' proves
that the Lord spake in Aramaic. The expression ' flesh
and blood,' as contrasted with God, occurs not only in that
Apocryphon of strictly Jewish authorship, the Wisdom of
the Son of Sirach,b and in the letters of St. Paul,*
wfxva.'si'' but in almost innumerable passages in Jewish
5o-°GaiXi writings, as denoting man in opposition to God;
16 '; Eph. vi. while the revelation of such a truth by ' the
Father Which is in Heaven,' represents not only
both Old and New Testament teaching, but is clothed in
language familiar to Jewish ears.
Not less Jewish in form are the succeeding words of
Christ : ' Thou art Peter (Petros), and upon this Rock
(Petra) will I build My Church.' We notice in the ori
ginal the change from the masculine gender, ' Peter '
(Petros), to the feminine, ' Petra ' (' Rock '), which seems
the more significant, that Petros is used in Greek for
' stone,' and also sometimes for ' rock,' while Petra always
means a ' rock.' The change of gender must therefore
have a definite object. The Greek word Rock (' on this
Petra [Rock] will I build my Church ') was used in the
same sense in Rabbinic language. According to Jewish
ideas, the world would not have been created, unless it
had rested, as it were, on some solid foundation of piety
and acceptance of God's Law — in other words, it required
a moral, before it could receive a physical foundation. It
is, so runs the comment, as if a king were going to build
a city. One and another site is tried for a foundation,
but in digging they always come upon water. At last
they come upon a Rock. So, when God was about to build
His world, He could not rear it on the generation of Enos,
nor on that of the flood, who brought destruction on the

The Great Commission 269
world ; but ' when He beheld that Abraham would arise
in the future, He said : Behold I have found a Rock to
build on it, and to found the world,' whence also Abraham
is called a Rock, as it is said : a ' Look unto the
Rock whence ye are hewn.' The parallel between
Abraham and Peter might be carried even further. If,
from a misunderstanding of the Lord's promise to Peter,
later Christian legend represented the Apostle as sitting
at the gate of heaven, Jewish legend represents Abraham
as sitting at the gate of Gehenna, so as to prevent all who
had the seal of circumcision from falling into its abyss.
But to return. Believing that Jesus spoke to Peter in
the Aramaic, we can now understand how the words Petros
and Petra would be purposely used by Christ to mark the
difference which their choice would suggest. Perhaps it
might be expressed in this somewhat clumsy paraphrase :
' Thou art Peter (Petros) — a Stone or Rock — and upon
this Petra — the Rock, the Petrine — will I found My
Church.' If, therefore, we would not entirely limit the
reference to the words of Peter's confession, we would
certainly apply them to that which was the Petrine in
Peter : the heaven-given faith which manifested itself in
his confession. And we can further understand how, just
as Christ's contemporaries may have regarded the world as
reared on the rock of faithful Abraham, so Christ promised
that He would build His Church on the Petrine in Peter —
on his faith and confession. Nor would the term ' Church '
sound strange in Jewish ears. The same Greek word
(i/e/cXncria), as the equivalent of the Hebrew which is
rendered in our version ' convocation/ ' the called,' was
apparently in familiar use at the time. In Hebrew use it
referred to Israel, not in their national but in their religious
unity. As here employed, it would convey the prophecy
that His disciples would in the future be joined together
in a religious unity ; that this religious unity or ' Church '
would be a building of which Christ was the Builder ; that
it would be founded on ' the Petrine ' of heaven-taught
faith and confession ; and that this religious unity, -this
Church, was not only intended for a time, like a school of

270 Jesus the Messiah
thought, but would last beyond death and the disembodied
state : that, alike as regarded Christ and His Church —
' the gates of Hades shall not prevail against it.'
Viewing ' the Church ' as a building founded upon ' the
Petrine,' it was not to vary. To carry on the same meta
phor, Christ promised to give to him who had spoken as re
presentative ofthe Apostles — ' the stewards ofthe mysteries
of God ' — ' the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven.' For, as
the religious unity of His disciples, or the Church, repre
sented ' the royal rule of heaven,' so, figuratively, entrance
into the gates of this building, submission to the rule of
God — to that Kingdom of which Christ was the King.
And we remember how, in a special sense, this promise was
fulfilled to Peter. Even as he had been the first to utter
the confession of the Church, so was he also privileged to
be the first to open its hitherto closed gates to the Gen
tiles, when God made choice of him, that, through his
• Acta xv. 7 mouth, the- Gentiles should first hear the words of
» Acts x. 48 t]ie Qogpe^a an(j at ^ bidding first be baptized.15
Our primary inquiry must here be, what the further
words of Christ would convey to the person to whom the
promise was addressed. And here we recall that no other
terms were in more constant use in Rabbinic Canon-Law
than those of ' binding ' and ' loosing.' The words are the
literal translation of the Hebrew ' to bind,' in the sense of
prohibiting, and ' to loose,' in the sense of permitting. The
power of ' binding and loosing ' was one claimed by the
Rabbis. It represented the legislative, while another pre
tension, that of declaring ' free ' or else ' liable,' i.e. guilty,
expressed their claim to the judicial power. By the first
of these they ' bound ' or ' loosed ' acts or things ; by the
second they ' remitted ' or ' retained,' declared a person
free from, or liable to punishment, to compensation, or to
sacrifice. These two powers — the legislative and judicial—
which belonged to the Rabbinic office, Christ now trans
ferred, and that not in their pretension, but in their reality,
• st. John to His Apostles : the first here to Peter as their
xx- 23 Representative, the second after His Resurrection
to the Church.0

The Great Commission 271
On the second of these powers we need not at present
dwell. That of ' binding' and ' loosing ' included all the
legislative functions for the new Church. In the view of
the Rabbis heaven was like earth, and questions were dis
cussed and settled by a heavenly Sanhedrin. Now, in regard
to some of their earthly decrees, they were wont to say that
' the Sanhedrin above ' confirmed what ' the Sanhedrin be
neath ' had done. But the words of Christ, as they avoided
the foolish conceit of His contemporaries, left it not doubt
ful, but conveyed the assurance that, under the guidance of
the Holy Ghost, whatsoever they bound or loosed on earth
would be bound or loosed in heaven.
But all this that had passed between them could not
be matter of common talk — least of all, at that crisis in
His History, and in that locality. Accordingly, all the
three Evangelists record — each with distinctive emphasis —
that the open confession of His Messiahship, which was
virtually its proclamation, was not to be made public.
Among the people it could only have led to results the
opposite of those to be desired. How unprepared even
that Apostle was, who had made proclamation of the
Messiah, for what his confession implied, and how ignorant
of the real meaning of Israel's Messiah, appeared only too
soon. The Evangelists, indeed, write it down in plain
language, as fully taught them by later experience, that
He was to be rejected by the rulers of Israel, slain, and
to rise again the third day. And there can be as little
doubt that Christ's language (as afterwards they looked
back upon it) must have clearly implied all this, as that at
the time they did not fully understand it. They could
well understand His rejection by the Scribes — a sort of
figurative death, or violent suppression of His claims and
doctrines, and then, after briefest period, their resurrection,
as it were — but not these terrible details in their full
literality. But, even so, there was enough of realism in the
words of Jesus to alarm Peter. His very affection, in
tensely human, to the Human Personality of his Master
would lead him astray. He put it in the very strongest

272 Jesus the Messiah
language, although the Evangelist gives only a literal
translation of the Rabbinic expression — God forbid it, ' God
be merciful to Thee : ' no, such never could, nor should
be to the Christ! It was an appeal to the Human in
Christ, just as Satan had, in the great Temptation after
the forty days' fast, appealed to the purely Human in
Jesus. Yet Peter's words were to be made useful, by affording
to the Master the opportunity of correcting what was amiss
in the hearts of all His disciples, and teaching them such
general principles about His Kingdom, and about that
implied in true discipleship, as would, if received in the
heart, enable them in due time victoriously to bear those
trials connected with that rejection and Death of the Christ,
which at the time they could not understand. Not a
Messianic Kingdom, with glory to its heralds and chieftains
— but self-denial, and the voluntary bearing of that cross
on which the powers of this world would nail the followers
of Christ. They knew the torture which their masters
— the power of the world — the Romans, were wont to inflict :
such must they, and similar must we all, be prepared to
bear, and in so doing begin by denying self. In such a
contest to lose life would be to gain it, to gain would be
to lose life. And if the issue lay between these two, who
could hesitate what to choose, even if it were ours to gain
or lose a whole world? For behind it all there was a
reality — a Messianic triumph and Kingdom — not, indeed,
such as they imagined, but far higher, holier : the Coming
»st Matt °f the Son of Man in the glory of His Father,
xvi. 24-27 an(j with jjjg Angels, and then eternal gain or
loss, according to our deeds.a
But why speak of the future and distant? 'A sign'
— a terrible sign of it ' from heaven,' a vindication of the
Christ Whom they had slain, invoking His Blood on their
City and Nation, a vindication such as alone these men
could understand, of the reality of His Resurrection and
Ascension, was in the near future. The flames of the City
and Temple would be the light in that nation's darkness,
by which to read the inscription on the Cross. All this

The Transfiguration 273
not afar off. Some of those who stood there would not
• st Matt ' taste death,' till in those judgments they would see
s.vl 28 that the Son of Man had come in His Kingdom."

CHAPTER XLVTI.
THE TRANSFIGURATION.
(St. Matt. xvii. 1-8 ; St. Mark ix. 2-8 ; St. Luke ix. 28-36.')
The great confession of Peter, as the representative
Apostle, had laid the foundations of the Church as such.
In contradistinction to the varying opinions of even those
best disposed towards Christ, it openly declared that Jesus
was the Very Christ of God, the fulfilment of all Old
Testament prophecy, the heir of Old Testament promise,
the realisation of the Old Testament hope for Israel, and,
in Israel, for all mankind. Without this confession,
Christians might have been a Jewish sect, a religious
party, or a school of thought, and Jesus a Teacher, Rabbi,
Reformer, or Leader of men. But the confession which
marked Jesus as the Christ also constituted His followers
the Church. It separated them, as it separated Him, from
all around ; it gathered them into One, even Christ ; and
it marked out the foundation on which the building made
without hands was to rise. Never was illustrative answer
so exact as this : ' On this Rock ' — bold, outstanding, well-
defined, immovable — ' will I build My Church.'
Without doubt this confession also marked the high-
point of the Apostles' faith. Never afterwards, till His
Resurrection, did it reach so high. Nay, what followed
seems rather a retrogression from it : beginning with their
unwillingness to receive the announcement of His Decease,
and ending with their unreadiness to share His sufferings
or to believe in His Resurrection.
Perhaps it was the Sabbath when Peter's great con
fession was made ; and the ' six days ' of St. Matthew and
St. Mark become the ' about eight days' of St. Luke, when
we reckon from that Sabbath to the close of another, and
suppose that at even the Saviour ascended the Mount of
T

274 Jesus the Messiah
Transfiguration with the three Apostles : Peter, James, and
John. There can scarcely be a reasonable doubt that
Christ and His disciples had not left the neighbourhood of
Caesarea, and hence that ' the mountain ' must have been
one of the slopes of gigantic, snowy Hermon.
It was then, as we have suggested, the evening after
the Sabbath, when the Master and those three of His dis
ciples, who were most closely linked to Him in heart and
thought, climbed the path that led up to one of these heights.
As St. Luke alone informs us, it was ' to pray ' that
Jesus took them apart up into that mountain. ' To pray,'
no doubt in connection with ' those sayings ; ' since their
reception required quite as much the direct teaching of
the Heavenly Father, as had the previous confession of
Peter, of which it was, indeed, the complement. And the
Transfiguration, with its attendant glorified Ministry and
Voice from heaven, was God's answer to that prayer.
On that mountain-top ' He prayed.' And, with deep
reverence be it said, for Himself also did Jesus pray. He
needed prayer, that in it His Soul might lie calm and still
in the unruffled quiet of His Self-surrender, and the victory
of His Sacrificial Obedience. And He needed prayer also,
as the introduction to, and preparation for, His Trans
figuration. Truly, He stood on Hermon. It was the
highest ascent, the widest prospect into the past, present,
and future, in His Earthly Life.
As we understand it, the prayer with them had ceased,
or merged into silent prayer of each, or Jesus now prayed
alone and apart, when what gives this scene such a truly
human and truthful aspect ensued. It was but natural
for these men of simple habits, at night, and after the
long ascent, and in the strong mountain-air, to be heavy
with sleep. ' They were heavy — weighted — with sleep,'
as afterwards in Gethsemane their eyes were weighted.2
» st. Matt Yet they struggled with it, and it is quite con-
st.^Mark sistent with experience that they should continue
xiv. 40 jn that state of semi-stupor during what passed be
tween Moses and Elijah and Christ, and also be ' fully awake'
'to see His Glory, and the two men who stood with Him.'
What they saw was their Master, while praying,

The Transfiguration 275
'transformed.' The 'form of God' shone through the
' form of a servant ; ' ' the appearance of His Face became
¦st. Luke other,'" it 'did shine as the sun.'b Nay, the
» st. Mat- whole Figure seemed bathed in light, the very
thew garments whiter far than the snow on which the
moon shone—' so as no fuller on earth can white them,' °
' glittering,' d ' white as the light.' And more than
• st. Mark tkis they saw and heard. They saw ' with Him
• st Luke tw0 men'' e wn°m, in their heightened sensitive
ness to spiritual phenomena, they could have no
difficulty in recognising, by such of their conversation as
they heard, as Moses and Elijah. The column was now com
plete : the base in the Law ; the shaft in that Prophetism
of which Elijah was the great Representative ; and the
apex in Christ Himself— a unity completely fitting to
gether in all its parts. And they heard also that they
spake of ' His Exodus — outgoing — which He was about
to fulfil at Jerusalem.' f Although the term
' Exodus,' ' outgoing,' occurs otherwise for
' death,' we must bear in mind its meaning as contrasted
with that in which the same Evangelic writer designates
e Acts xffi. the Birth of Christ, as His ' incoming.' g In
24 truth, it implies not only His Decease, but its
manner, and even His Resurrection and Ascension. In
that sense we can understand the better, as on the lips of
Moses and Elijah, this about His fulfilling that Exodus :
accomplishing it in all its fulness, and so completing Law
and Prophecy, type and prediction.
And still that night of glory had not ended. A strange
peculiarity has been noticed about Hermon : in ' a few
minutes a thick cap forms over the top of the mountain,
and as quickly disperses and entirely disappears.' Sud
denly a cloud passed over the clear brow of the mountain —
not an ordinary, but ' a luminous cloud,' a cloud uplit, filled
with light. As it laid itself between Jesus and the two
Old Testament Representatives, it parted, and presently
enwrapped them. Most significant is it, suggestive of the
Presence of God, revealing, yet concealing — a cloud, yet lumi
nous. And this cloud overshadowed the disciples : the shadow
t 2

276 Jesus the Messiah
of its light fell upon them. A nameless terror seized them.
Fain would they have held what seemed to escape their grasp.
Such vision had never before been vouchsafed to mortal
man as had fallen on their sight ; they had heard Heaven's
converse ; they had tasted Angels' Food, the Bread of His
Presence. Could the vision not be perpetuated — at least
prolonged ? In the confusion of their terror they knew
not how otherwise to word it, than by an expression of
ecstatic longing for the continuance of what they had, of
their earnest readiness to do their little best, if they could
but secure it — make booths for the heavenly Visitants —
and themselves wait in humble service and reverent atten
tion on what their dull heaviness had prevented them from
enjoying and profiting by to the full. They knew and felt
it : ' Lord ' — ' Rabbi ' — ' Master ' — ' it is good for us to be
here.' 'They wist not what they said.' In presence of the
luminous cloud that enwrapped those glorified Saints, they
spake from out that darkness which compassed them about.
And now the light-cloud was spreading ; presently its
fringe fell upon them. Heaven's awe was upon them : for
the touch of the heavenly strains, almost to breaking, the
bond betwixt-body and soul. ' And a Voice came out of
the cloud, saying, This is My Beloved Son : hear Him.'
It had needed only One other Testimony to seal it all ;
One other Voice, to give both meaning and music to what
had been the subject of Moses' and Elijah's speaking.
That Voice had now come — not in testimony to any fact,
but to a Person — that of Jesus as His ' Beloved Son,' and
in gracious direction to them. They heard it, falling on
their faces in awestruck worship.
How long the silence had lasted, and the last rays of
the cloud had passed, we know not. Presently, it was a
gentle touch that roused them. It was the Hand of Jesus,
as with words of comfort He reassured them : ' Arise, and
be not afraid.' And as, startled, they looked round about
them, they saw no man save Jesus only. The heavenly
Visitants had gone, the last glow of the light-cloud had
faded away, the echoes of Heaven's Voice had died out.
It was night, and they were on the Mount with Jesus, and
with Jesus only.

277
CHAPTER XLVTIL
THE MORROW OF THE TRANSFIGURATION.
(St. Matt. xvii. 9-21 ; St. Maxk ix. 9-29 ; St. Luke ix. 37-43.)
It was the early dawn of another summer's day when the
Master and His disciples turned their steps once more
towards the plain. They had seen His Glory ; they had
had the most solemn witness which; as Jews, they could
have ; and they had gained a new knowledge of the Old
Testament. It all bore reference to the Christ,, and it
spake of His Decease. Perhaps on that morning better
than in the previous night did they realise the vision,, and
feel its calm, happiness.
It would be only natural that their thoughts should
also wander to the companions and fellow-disciples whom
on the previous evening they had left in the valley beneath.
A light had been shed upon that hard saying concerning His
Rejection and violent Death. They — at least these three —
had. formerly simply submitted to the saying of Christ
because it was His, without understanding it; but now
they had learned to see it in quite another light. How
they must have longed to impart it to those whose diffi
culties were at least as great, perhaps greater ; who perhaps
had not yet recovered from the rude shock which their
Messianic thoughts and hopes had so lately received.
But it was not to be so. Evidently it was not an event
to be made generally known, either to< the people or even
to the great body of the disciples. They could not have
understood its real meaning; in their ignorance they would
have misapplied to carnal Jewish purposes its heavenly
lessons. But even the rest of the Apostles must not know
of it : that they were not qualified to witness it, proved
that they were not prepared to hear of it.
And so it was that, when the silence of that morning-
descent was broken, the Master laid on them the command
to tell no man of this vision, till after the Son of Man
were risen from the dead. The silence thus enjoined was

278 Jesus the Messiah
the first step into the Valley of Humiliation. It was also
a test whether they had understood the spiritual teaching
of the vision. And their strict obedience, not questioning
even the grounds of the injunction, proved that they had
learned it. So entire, indeed, was their submission that
they dared not even ask the Master about a new and
seemingly greater mystery than they had yet heard : the
«st Mark meaning of the Son of Man rising from the
lx- i° dead.a Did it refer to the general Resurrection ;
was the Messiah to be the first to rise from the dead, and
to waken the other sleepers — or was it only a figurative
expression for His triumph and vindication? Evidently
they knew as yet nothing of Christ's Personal Resurrection
as separate from that of others, and on the third day after
His Death. Among themselves, then and many times
"st Mark afterwards, in secret converse, they questioned
ix.io what the rising again from the dead should
mean.b There was another question, and it they might ask of
Jesus, since it concerned not the mysteries of the future
but the lessons of the past. Thinking of that vision, of
the appearance of Elijah and of his speaking ofthe Death
of the Messiah, why did the Scribes say that Elijah should
first come — and, as was the universal teaching, for the
purpose of restoring all things ? If, as they had seen,
Elijah had come — but only for a brief season, not to abide
together with Moses as they had wished when they proposed
to rear them booths ; if he had come not to the people but
to Christ, in view of only them three — and they were not
even to tell of it ; and if it had been not to prepare for a
spiritual restoration, but to speak of what implied the
opposite: the Rejection and violent Death of the Messiah
— then, were the Scribes right in their teaching, and what
was its real meaning ? The question afforded the oppor
tunity of presenting to the disciples not only a solution
of their difficulties, but another insight into the necessity
of His Rejection and Death. They had failed to dis
tinguish between the coming of Elijah and its alternative
sequence. Truly ' Elias cometh first ' and Elijah had ' come

The Coming of Elijah 279
already ' in the person of John the Baptist. The Divinely
intended object of Elijah's coming was to ' restore all
things.' This, of course, implied a moral element in the
submission of the people to God, and their willingness to
receive his message. Otherwise there was this Divine
alternative in the prophecy of Malachi : ' Lest I come to
smite the land with the ban.' Elijah had come; if the
people had received his message there would have been
the promised restoration of all things. As the Lord had
• stMatt saicl on a previous occasion:" 'If ye are willing
xi14 to receive him, this is Elijah, which is to come.'
Similarly, if Israel had received the Christ, He would have
gathered them as a hen her chickens for protection ; He
would not only have been, but have visibly appeared as
their King. But Israel did not know their Elijah, and
did unto him whatsoever they listed; and so, in logical
sequence, would the Son of Man also suffer of them. And
thus has the other part of Malachi's prophecy been ful
filled, and the land of Israel been smitten with the ban.
Amidst such conversation the descent from the moun
tain was accomplished. Presently they found themselves
in view of a scene, which only too clearly showed that
unfitness of the disciples for the heavenly vision of the
preceding night, to which reference has been made.
It was, indeed, a terrible contrast between the scene
below and that vision of Moses and Elijah, when they had
spoken ofthe Exodus ofthe Christ, and the Divine Voice had
attested the Christ from out the luminous cloud. A con
course of excited people — among them once more ' Scribes,'
who had tracked the Lord and come upon His weakest
disciples in the hour of their greatest weakness — is gathered
about a man who had in vain brought his lunatick son for
healing. He is eagerly questioned by the multitude, and
» st Matt moodily answers ; or, as it might almost seem
xv«: i4a ' from St. Matthew,b he is leaving the crowd and
those from whom he had vainly sought help. This was
the hour of triumph for these Scribes. The Master had
refused the challenge in Dalmanutha, and the disciples,
accepting it, had signally failed. There they were, ' ques-

280 Jesus the Messiah
tioning with them ' noisily, discussing this and all similar
phenomena, but chiefly the power, authority, and reality of
the Master. It reminds us of Israel's temptation in the
wilderness, and we should scarcely wonder if they had
even questioned the return of Jesus, as they of old did that
of Moses. At that very moment Jesus appeared with the three.
We cannot wonder that, c when they saw Him, they were
,_ . M greatly amazed and running to Him saluted
Him.' a Before the Master's inquiry about the
cause of this violent discussion could be answered, the
man who had been its occasion came forward and, ' kneel-
•¦stMat- ing to Him,'b addressed Jesus. Describing the
thew symptoms of his son's distemper, which were
those of epilepsy and mania — although both the father
and Jesus rightly attributed the disease to demoniac in
fluence — he told how he had come in search of the Master,
but only found the nine disciples, and how they had
attempted and failed in the desired cure.
Why had they failed ? For the same reason that they
had not been taken into the Mount of Transfiguration —
because they were ' faithless,' because of their ' unbelief.'
They had that outward faith of the '¦probatum est ' (' it is
proved ') ; they believed because of what they had seen ;
but that deeper faith, which consisted in the spiritual view
of that which was the unseen in Christ, and that higher
power, which flows from such apprehension, they had not.
In such faith as they had, they repeated forms of exorcism,
tried to imitate their Master. But they signally failed, as
did those seven Jewish Priest-sons at Ephesus. In that
hour of crisis, in the presence of questioning Scribes and a
wondering populace, and in the absence of the Christ, only
one power could prevail, that of spiritual faith ; and ' that
kind ' could ' not come out but by prayer.'
For one moment we have a glimpse into the Saviour's
soul : the poignant sorrow of His disappointment at the
unbelief of the ' faithless and perverse generation,' with
which He had so long borne ; the patience and condescen
sion, the Divine ' need be ' of His having thus to bear even

Healing of the Lunatick Boy 281
with His own, together with the humiliation which it in
volved; and the almost home-longing, as it has been called,
of His soul. These things are mysteries. The next
moment Jesus turns Him to the father. At His command
the lunatick is brought to Him. In the Presence of Jesus,
and in view of the coming contest between Light and
Darkness, one of those paroxysms of demoniac operation
ensues, such as we have witnessed on all similar occasions.
This was allowed to pass in view of all. But both this,
and the question as to the length of time the lunatick had
been afflicted, together with the answer and the descrip
tion of the dangers involved which it elicited, were
evidently intended to point the lesson of the need of a
higher faith. To the father, however, who knew not the
mode of treatment by the Heavenly Physician, they seemed
like the questions of an earthly healer who must con
sider the symptoms before he could attempt to cure. ' If
Thou canst do anything, have compassion on us, and
help us.'
There is all the calm majesty of Divine self-conscious
ness, yet without trace of self-assertion, when Jesus,
utterly ignoring the 'if Thou canst,' turns to the man
and tells him that, while with the Divine Helper there is
the possibility of all help, it is conditioned by a possibility
in ourselves, by man's receptiveness, by his faith. ' If
thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that
believeth.' It was a lesson, of which the reality was attested by
the hold which it took on the man's whole nature. While
by one great out-going of his soul he overleapt all, to lay
hold on the fact set before him, he felt all the more the
dark chasm of unbelief behind him. Thus through the
felt unbelief of faith he attained true faith by laying hold
on the Divine Saviour, when he cried out and said : ' Lord,
I believe ; help Thou mine unbelief.'
Such cry could not be, and never is, unheard. It was
a reality, and not accommodation to Jewish views, when, as
He saw ' the multitude running together, He rebuked the
unclean spirit, saying to him : Dumb and deaf spirit, I

282 Jesus the Messiah
command thee, come out of him, and no more come into
him.' Another and a more violent paroxysm, so that the by
standers almost thought him dead. But the unclean spirit
had come out of him. And with strong gentle Hand the
Saviour lifted him, and delivered him to his father.

CHAPTER XLIX.

THE LAST EVENTS IN GALILEE: — THE TRIBUTE-MONEY, THE
DISPUTE BY THE WAY AND THE FORBIDDING OF HIM WHO
COULD NOT FOLLOW WITH THE DISCIPLES.
(St. Matt. xvii. 22— xviii. 22 ; St. Mark ix. 30-50 ; St. Luke ix. 43-50.)
Now that the Lord's retreat at Caesarea Philippi was
known to the Scribes, and that He was again surrounded
and followed by the multitude, there could be no further
object in His retirement. Indeed, the time was coming
that He should meet that for which He had been, and was
still, preparing the minds of His disciples — His Decease
at Jerusalem. Accordingly, we find Him once more with
His disciples in Galilee — not to abide there, but prepara
tory to His journey to the Feast of Tabernacles. The few
events of this brief stay, and the teaching connected with
it, may be summed up as follows.
1. Prominently, perhaps, as the summary of all, we
have now the clear and emphatic repetition of the predic
tion of His Death and Resurrection. The announcement
filled their hearts with exceeding sorrow; they compre
hended it not ; nay, they were — perhaps not unnaturally —
afraid to ask Him about it.
2. It is to the depression caused by His insistence on
this terrible future, to the constant apprehension of near
danger, and the consequent desire not to ' offend,' and so
provoke those at whose hands Christ had told them He
was to suffer, that we trace the incident of the tribute-
money. We can scarcely believe that Peter would have

The Tribute-Money 283
answered as he did, without previous permission of his
Master, had it not been for such thoughts and fears. It
was another mode of saying, ' That be far from Thee ' — or,
rather, trying to keep it as far as he could from Christ.
It is well known that, on the ground ofthe injunction
in Exod. xxx. 13 &c, every male in Israel, from twenty
•comp years upwards, was expected annually to con-
2 Kings xii. tribute to the Temple-Treasury the sum of one
xiiv. 6 ; ' half-shekel of the Sanctuary," equivalent to about
Neh. x. 32 lg 2d. or Is. 3d. of our money. Whether or not
the original Biblical ordinance had been intended to insti
tute a regular annual contribution, the Jews of the Dis
persion would probably regard it in the light of a patriotic
as well as religious act.
It will be remembered that, shortly before the previous
Passover, Jesus with His disciples had left Capernaum,
that they returned to the latter city only for the Sabbath,
and that, as we have suggested, they passed the first
Paschal days on the borders of Tyre. It must have been
known that He had not gone up to Jerusalem for the
Passover. Accordingly, when it was told in Capernaum
that the Rabbi of Nazareth had once more come to what
seems to have been His Galilean home, it was only natural
that they who collected the Temple-tribute should have
applied for its payment. It is quite possible that their
application may have been, if not prompted, yet quickened,
by the wish to involve Him in a breach of so well-known
an obligation, or else by a hostile curiosity.
We picture it to ourselves on this wise. Those who
received the Tribute-money had come to Peter, and per
haps met him in the court or corridor, and asked him :
' Your Teacher (Rabbi), does He not pay the didrachma?'
While Peter hastily responded in the affirmative, and then
entered into the house to procure the coin, or else to report
what had passed, Jesus, Who had been in another part of
the house, but was cognisant of all, ' anticipated him.'
Addressing him in kindly language as ' Simon,' He pointed
out the real state of matters by an illustration which must,
of course, not be too literally pressed, and of which the

284 Jesus the Messiah
meaning was : Whom does a King intend to tax for the
maintenance of his palace and officers ? Surely not his
own family, but others. The inference from this, as re
garded the Temple-tribute, was obvious. As in all similar
Jewish parabolic teaching, it was only indicated in general
principle : ' Then are the children free.' But even so, be
it as Peter had wished, although not from the same motive.
Let no needless offence be given; for, assuredly, they
would not have understood the principle on which Christ
would have refused the Tribute-money, and all misunder
standing on the part of Peter was now impossible. Yet
Christ would still further vindicate His royal title.
He will pay for Peter also, and pay, as heaven's King,
with a stater, or four-drachm piece, miraculously pro
vided. If we wish to mark the difference between the sobriety
of this record and the extravagances of legend, we may
remind ourselves of a somewhat kindred Jewish fiaggadah
intended to glorify the Jewish mode of Sabbath observance.
One Joseph, known as 'the honourer' ofthe Sabbath, had
a wealthy heathen neighbour, to whom the Chaldasans had
prophesied that all his riches would come to Joseph. To
render this impossible, the wealthy man converted all his
property into one magnificent gem, which he carefully
concealed within his head-gear. Then he took ship, so as
for ever to avoid the dangerous vicinity of the Jew. But
the wind blew his head-gear into the sea, and the gem was
swallowed by a fish. And, lo ! it was the holy season, and
they brought to the market a splendid fish. Who should
purchase it but Joseph ? for none as he would prepare to
honour the day by the best which he could provide. But
when they opened the fish, the gem was found in it — the
moral being : ' He that borroweth for the Sabbath, the
Sabbath will repay him.'
3. The event next recorded in the Gospels took place
partly on the way from the Mount of Transfiguration to
Capernaum, and partly in Capernaum itself, immediately
after the scene connected with the Tribute- money. It is
recorded by the three Evangelists, and it led to explana-

The Dispute by the Way 285
tions and admonitions, which are told by St. Mark and
St. Luke, but chiefly by St. Matthew. This circumstance
seems to indicate that the latter was the chief actor in
that which occasioned this special teaching and warning of
Christ, and that it must have sunk very deeply into his
heart.• st Mart As St. Mark puts it,a by the way they had
**• u disputed among themselves which of them should
» st. Matt, be the greatest — as St. Matthew explains,b in
xvm. 1 the Messianic Kingdom of Heaven. Of a dispute
serious and even violent, among the disciples, we have
evidence in the exhortation of the Master, as reported by
^ st Mark St. Mark,c in the direction of the Lord how to
ix. 42-50 ^eaj ^jth an offending brother, and in the
* st Matt answering inquiry of Peter.d Nor can we be at
xtoi. 15, 21 jjQgg t0 perceive its occasion. The distinction just
bestowed on the three in being taken up the Mount, may
have roused feelings of jealousy in the others, perhaps
of self-exaltation in the three. Alike the spirit which
John displayed in his harsh prohibition of the man that
•st Mark did not follow with the disciples,e and the self-
righteous bargaining of Peter about forgiving the
'st Matt, supposed or real offences of a brother/ give evi-
"lii-21 dence of this.
In truth, the Apostles were still greatly under the in
fluence of the old spirit. It was the common Jewish view
that there would be distinctions of rank in the Kingdom
of Heaven. It can scarcely be necessary to prove this by
Rabbinic quotations, since the whole system of Rabbinism
and Pharisaism, with its separation from the vulgar and
ignorant, rests upon it. But even within the circle of
Rabbinism there would be distinctions, due to learning,
merit, and even to favouritism. In this world there were
God's special favourites, who could command anything at
His hand — to use the Rabbinic illustration, like a spoilt
child from its father. And in the Messianic age God would
assign booths to each according to his rank.
How deep-rooted were such thoughts and feelings
appears not only from the dispute of the disciples by the

286 Jesus the Messiah
» st Matt, way, but from the request proffered by the mother
xx. 20 0£ Zebedee's children and her sons at a later
period.3- We have already seen that there was quite sufficient
occasion and material for such a dispute on the way from
the Mount of Transfiguration to Capernaum. We suppose
Peter to have been only at the first with the others. To
judge by the latter question, how often he was to forgive
the brother who had sinned against him, he may have been
so deeply hurt that he left the other disciples, and
hastened on with the Master, Who would, at any rate,
sojourn in his house. For neither he nor Christ seems to
have been present when John and the others forbade the
man, who would not follow with them, to cast out demons
in Christ's Name. Again, the other disciples. only came
into Capernaum, and entered the house, just as Peter had
gone for the stater, with which to pay the Temple-tribute
for the Master and himself. And, if speculation be per
missible, we would suggest that the brother, whose offences
Peter found it so difficult to forgive, may have been none
other than Judas. In such a dispute by the way, Judas,
with his Judaistic views, would be particularly interested ;
perhaps he may have been its chief instigator ; certainly,
he, whose natural character amidst its sharp contrasts to
that of Peter presented so many points of resemblance to
it, would on many grounds be specially jealous of and
antagonistic to him.
Quite natural in view of this dispute by the way is
another incident of the journey, which is afterwards
•> st Mark related.11 As we judge, John seems to have been
st LuL ix. the principal actor in it ; perhaps in the absence
49 of Peter he claimed the leadership. They had
met one who was casting out demons in the Name of Christ
— whether successfully or not, we need scarcely inquire.
So widely had faith in the power of Jesus extended ; so real
was the belief in the subjection of the demons to Him ;
so reverent was the acknowledgment of Him. A man
who, thus forsaking the methods of Jewish exorcists,
owned Jesus in the face of the Jewish world, could not be

The Dispute by the Way 287
far from the Kingdom of Heaven. John had, in name of
the disciples, forbidden him, because he had not cast in his
lot wholly with them. To forbid a man in such circum
stances would be either prompted by the spirit of the
dispute by the way, or else must be grounded on
evidence that the motive was, or the effect would ultimately
be (as in the case of the sons of Sceva), to lead men ' to
speak evil' of Christ, or to hinder the work of His disciples.
Assuredly, such could not have been the case with a man
who invoked His Name, and perhaps experienced Its
efficacy. More than this — and here is an eternal principle :
' He that is not against us is for us ; ' a saying still more
• st Luke clear, when we adopt the better reading in St.
1X1 50 Luke,a ' Ho that is not against you is for you.'
The lesson is of the most deep-reaching character.
Not that it is unimportant to follow with the disciples,
but that it is not ours to forbid any work done, however
imperfectly, in His Name, and that only one question is
really vital — whether or not a man is decidedly with
Christ. Such were the incidents by the way. And now, while
withholding from Christ their dispute, and, indeed, anything
that might seem personal in the question, the disciples,
on entering the house where He was in Capernaum,
addressed to Him this inquiry : ' Who then is greatest in
the Kingdom of Heaven ? ' It was a general question —
but Jesus perceived the thought of their heart ;b
He knew about what they had disputed by the
« st Mark way,0 and now asked them concerning it. The
**• 33 account of St. Mark is most graphic. Conscience-
stricken ' they held their peace.' It seems as if the Master
had at first gone to welcome the disciples on their arrival,
and they, 'full of their dispute,' had without delay addressed
their inquiry to Him in the court or antechamber, where they
met Him. Leading the way into the house, ' He sat down,1
not«only to answer their inquiry, but to teach them what
they needed to learn. He called a little child — perhaps.
Peter's little son — and put him in the midst of them. Not
to strive who was to be greatest, but to be utterly without

288 Jesus the Messiah
self-consciousness, like a child — thus to become turned
and entirely changed in mind, ' converted,' was the condi
tion for entering into the Kingdom of Heaven. Then, as
to the question of greatness there, it was really one of
greatness of service, and that was greatest service which
implied most self-denial. Suiting the action to the teach
ing, the Blessed Saviour took the happy child in His
Arms. Not to teach, to preach, to work miracles, nor to
do great things, but to do the humblest service for Christ's
sake, was to receive Christ — nay, to receive the Father.
And the smallest service, as it might seem — even the
giving a cup of cold water in such spirit — would not lose
its reward. These words about receiving Christ, and 'receiving
in the Name of Christ,' had stirred the memory and con
science of John, and made him half wonder, half fear,
whether what they had done by the way, in forbidding the
man to do what he could in the Name of Christ, had been
right. And so he told it, and received the further and
higher teaching on the subject. St. Mark and St.
Matthew record further instruction in connection with
• st Luke this, to which St. Luke refers at a somewhat later
xvu. 1-7 period.a The love of Christ goes deeper than
the condescension of receiving a child, utterly un-Pharisaic
and un-Rabbinic as this is.b A man may enter
b St. Matt. . . . J .
xviii. 2-6, into the Kingdom and do service — yet, if m so
an par e s jj^g ^e <3isregard the law of love to the little
ones, far better his work should be abruptly cut short;
better one of those large millstones turned by an ass
were hung about his neck and he cast into the sea ! We
pause to note, once more, the Judaic, and therefore
evidential setting of the Evangelic narrative. The
Talmud also speaks of two kinds of millstones — the one
turned by hand, referred to in St. Luke xvii. 35 : the
other turned by an ass. Similarly, the figure about a
millstone hung round the neck occurs also in the Talmud
—although there as figurative of almost insuperable diffi
culties. Again, the expression, '.it were better for him,'
is a well-known Rabbinic expression. Lastly, according

'Salted for the Fire' 289
to St. Jerome, the punishment which seems alluded to in
the words of Christ, and which we know to have been in
flicted by Augustus, was actually practised by the Romans
in Galilee on some of the leaders of the insurrection under
Judas of Galilee.
And yet greater guilt would only too surely be in-
•st Matt curred ! Woe unto the world ! a Occasions of
It Mark Ix. stumbling and offence would surely come, but
43-*8 woe to the man through whom such havoc was
wrought. What then is the alternative ? If it be a ques
tion as between offence and some part of ourselves, a limb
or member, however useful — the hand, the foot, the eye —
then let it rather be severed from the body, however pain
ful, or however seemingly great the loss. It cannot be so
great as that of the whole being in the eternal fire of
Gehenna, where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not
quenched. Be it hand, foot, or eye — practice, pursuit, or
research — which consciously leads us to occasions of
stumbling, it must be resolutely put aside in view of the
incomparably greater loss of eternal remorse and anguish.
Here St. Mark abruptly breaks off with a saying in
which the Saviour makes general application, although the
*stMark narrative is further continued by St. Matthew.b
ix.49, 50 ]^ seems to us that, turning from this thought
that even members which are intended for useful service
may, in certain circumstances, have to be cut off to avoid
the greatest loss, the Lord gave to His disciples this as the
final summary and explanation of all : ' For every one
shall be salted for the fire ' — or, as a very early gloss
which has "strangely crept into the text paraphrased and
explained it, ' Every sacrifice shall be salted with salt.'
No one is fit for the sacrificial fire nor can offer anything
as a sacrifice, unless it have been first, according to the
Levitical Law, covered with salt, symbolic of the incor
ruptible. ' Salt is good ; but if the salt,' with which the
spiritual sacrifice is to be salted for the fire, ' have lost its
savour, wherewith will ye season it ? ' Hence, ' have salt
in yourselves,' but do not let that salt be corrupted by
making it an occasion of offence to others, or among your-
u

290 Jesus the Messiah
selves, as in the dispute by the way, or in the disposition
of mind that led to it, or in forbidding others to work who
follow not with you, but '- be at peace among yourselves.'
To this explanation of the words of Christ it may,
perhaps, be added that, from their form, they must have
conveyed a special meaning to the disciples. It was a
well-known law that every sacrifice burned on the Altar
. must be salted with salt.a Indeed, according to
the Talmud, not only every such offering, but
even the wood with which the sacrificial fire was kindled,
was sprinkled with salt. Salt symbolised to the Jews of
that time the incorruptible and the higher. The Bible
was compared to salt, so was acuteness of intellect, so
was the soul. Lastly, the question : ' If the salt have
lost its savour, wherewith will ye season it?' seems to
have been proverbial, and occurs in exactly the same
words in the Talmud, apparently to denote a thing that is
impossible. Most thoroughly anti-Pharisaic and anti-Rabbinic as
all this was, what St. Matthew further reports leads still
farther in the same direction. We seem to see Jesus still
holding this child, and, with evident reference to the
Jewish contempt for that which is small, point to him and
apply, in quite other manner than they had ever heard,
the Rabbinic teaching about the Angels. In the Jewish
view, only the chiefest of the Angels were before the Face
of God within the curtained Veil, while the others, ranged
in different classes, stood outside and awaited His behest.
The distinction which the former enjoyed was always to
behold His Face, and to hear and know directly the Divine
counsels and commands. This distinction was, therefore,
one of knowledge ; Christ taught that it was one of love.
Look up from earth to heaven; those representative, it
may be guardian Angels nearest to God, are not those of
deepest knowledge of God's counsel and commands, but
those of simple, humble grace and faith — and so learn
not only not to despise one of these little ones, but who is
truly greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven !
Yet a further depth of Christian love remained to be

On Forgiveness of a 'Brother' 291
shown, that which sought not its own, but the things of
others. Hitherto it had been a question of not seeking self,
nor minding great things, but, Christ-like and God-like, to
condescend to the little ones. What if actual wrong had
• st Matt Deen done, and just offence given, by a ' brother' ?a
xviii. 15^ in ,5^ cas6) aiSOj the principle of the Kingdom
— which, negatively, is that of self-forgetfulness, positively,
that of service of love — would first seek the good of the
offending brother. We mark here the contrast to Rab
binism, which directs that the first overtures must be
made by the offender, not the offended ; and even prescribes
this to be done in presence of numerous witnesses, and, if
needful, repeated three times. As regards the duty of
showing to a brother his fault, and the delicate tenderness
of doing this in private so as not to put him to shame,
Rabbinism speaks the same as the Master of Nazareth.
Yet, in practice, matters were very different ; and neither
could those be found who would take reproof, nor yet such
as were worthy to administer it.
Quite other was it in the Kingdom of Christ, where
the theory was left undefined, but the practice clearly
marked. Here, by loving dealing, to convince of his
wrong him who had done it, was not humiliation nor loss
of dignity or of right, but real gain : the gain of our
brother to us, and eventually to Christ Himself But even
if this should fail, the offended must not desist from his
service of love, but conjoin in it others with himself so as
to give weight and authority to his remonstrances, as not
being the outcome of personal feeling or prejudice — per
haps, also, to be witnesses before the Divine tribunal. If
this failed, a final appeal should be made on the part of
the Church as a whole, which, of course, could only be
done through her representatives and rulers, to whom
Divine authority had been committed. And if that were
rejected, the offer of love would, as always in the Gospel,
pass into danger ofjudgment. Not, indeed, that such was
to be executed by man ; but that such an offender, after the
first and second admonition, was to be rejected.b
»Titusui.io jje wag to be treated as was the custom in regard
TT 2

292 Jesus the Messiah
to a heathen or a publican — not persecuted, despised, or
avoided, but not received in Church-fellowship (a heathen),
nor admitted to close familiar intercourse (a publican).
And this, as we understand it, marks out the mode of what
is called Church discipline in general, and specifically as
regards wrong done to a brother. Discipline so exercised
(which may God restore to us) has the highest Divine
sanction, and the most earnest reality attaches to it. For
in virtue of the authority which Christ had committed to
the Church in the persons of her rulers and representatives,
what they bound or loosed — declared obligatory or non-
obligatory — was ratified in heaven. Nor was this to be
wondered at. The Incarnation of Christ was the link
which bound earth to heaven; through it whatever was
agreed upon in the fellowship of Christ as that which was
»st Matt fc° De asked, would be done for them of His
xviii. 19 Father Which was in heaven." Thus the power
of the Church reached up to heaven through the power of
prayer in His Name Who made God our Father. And
so, beyond the exercise of discipline and authority,
there was the omnipotence of prayer — 'if two of you
shall agree ... as touching anything ... it shall be
done for them' — and with it also the possibility of a higher
service of love. For in the smallest gathering
"' ' in the Name of Christ His Presence would be,
and with it the certainty of nearness to, and acceptance
with, God.b
It is bitterly disappointing that, after such teaching,,
even a Peter could come to the Master — either immediately,
or perhaps after he had had time to think it over, and
apply it — with the question how often he was to forgive
an offending brother, imagining that he had more than
satisfied the new requirements, if he extended it
to seven times.0 Such traits show better than
elaborate discussions the need of the mission and the re
newing of the Holy Ghost. And yet there is something
touching in the simplicity and honesty with which Peter
goes to the Master, as if he had fully entered into His
teaching, yet with such a misapprehension of its spirit.

On Forgiveness of a 'Brother' 293
Surely, the new wine was bursting the old bottles. It was
a principle of Rabbinism that, even if the wrongdoer had
made full restoration, he would not obtain forgiveness till
he had asked it of him whom he had wronged, but that it
was cruelty in such circumstances to refuse pardon. The
Jerusalem Talmud adds the beautiful remark : ' Let this
be a token in thine hand — each time that thou showest
mercy, God will show mercy on thee ; and if thou showest
not mercy, neither will God show mercy on thee.' But
it was a settled rule, that forgiveness should not be ex
tended more than three times. Even so, the practice was
very different.
It must have seemed to Peter, in his ignorance,
quite a stretch of charity to extend forgiveness to seven,
instead of three offences. It did not occur to him that the
very act of numbering offences marked an externalism
which had never entered into, nor comprehended the
spirit of Christ. Until seven times ? Nay, until seventy
times seven ! The evident purport of these words was to
efface all such landmarks. Peter had yet to learn what
we too often forget : that Christ's forgiveness, as that of
the Christian, must not be computed by numbers. It is
qualitative, not quantitative : Christ forgives sin, not sins
— and he who has experienced it follows in His footsteps.

CHAPTER L.

THE JOURNEY TO JERUSALEM — FIRST INCIDENTS
BY THE WAY.
(St. John vii. 1-16 ; St. Luke ix. 1-56, 57-62 ; St. Matt. viii. 19-22.)
The part in the Evangelic History which we have now
reached has this peculiarity and difficulty, that the events
are recorded by only one of the Evangelists. The section
in St. Luke's Gospel from chapter ix. 51 to chapter
xviii 14 stands absolutely alone. St. John mentions three

294 Jesus the Messiah
appearances of Christ in Jerusalem at that period : at the
• st John Feast of Tabernacles,* at that of the Dedication,b
vii. to x. and His final entry, which is referred to by all
•> x. 22-42 the other Evangelists.0 But, while the narrative
xx'iT&o*'- °^ ^- John confines itself exclusively to what
st. Mark x'. happened in Jerusalem or its immediate neigh-
Luke x'™.' bourhood, it also either mentions or gives suffi-
11 &0" cient indication that on two out of these three
occasions Jesus left Jerusalem for the country east of the
Jordan (St. John x. 19-21 ; St. John x. 39-43, where the
words in ver. 39, ' they sought again to take Him,' point
to a previous similar attempt and flight). Besides these,
St. John also records a journey to Bethany — though not
„.,.-. .to Jerusalem — for the raising of Lazarus,4 and
aSt Johnxi. „ £> . . '
after that a council against (Jurist in Jerusalem,
in consequence of which He withdrew out of Judaean
• xi. 54 territory into a district near ' the wilderness ' e —
'st Luke as we infer, that in the north, where John had
vu.y*7'16' been baptising and Christ been tempted, and
est. Luke whither He had afterwards withdrawn/ We
viii. 29 regard this ' wilderness ' as on the eastern bank
of the Jordan, and extending northward towards the
eastern shore of the Lake of Galilee.8
If St. John relates three appearances of Jesus at
«¦ st. Luke tn^s time in Jerusalem, St. Luke records three
ls-5xTiJilsi Journeys to Jerusalem,11 the last of which agrees,
>st. Matt ™- regar,i to its starting point, with the notices
xix. i ; of the other Evangelists.1
St. Luke's account of the three journeys to
Jerusalem fits into the narrative of Christ's three appear-
i st. Luke ances in Jerusalem as described by St. John.
ix. h-xviii. The unique section in St. Lukej supplies the
record of what took place before, during, and
after those journeys, of which the upshot is told by St.
John. We have now some insight into the plan of St.
Luke's Gospel, as compared with that of the others. We
see that St. Luke forms a kind of transition between the
other two Synoptists and St. John. The Gospel by St.
Matthew has for its main object the Discourses or teaching

The Journey to Jerusalem 295
of the Lord, around which the History groups itself. It
is intended as a demonstration, primarily addressed to the
Jews, and in a form peculiarly suited to them, that Jesus
was the Messiah, the Son of the Living God. The Gospel
by St. Mark is a rapid survey of the History of the Christ
as such. It deals mainly with the Galilean Ministry. The
Gospel by St. John, which gives the highest, the reflective,
view of the Eternal Son as the Word, deals almost exclu
sively with the Jerusalem Ministry. And the Gospel by
St: Luke complements the narratives in the other two
Gospels (St. Matthew and St. Mark), and it supplements
them by tracing, what is not done otherwise : the Ministry
in Persea. The subject primarily before us is the journeying of
Jesus to Jerusalem. In that wider view which St. Luke
takes of this whole history, he presents what really were
three separate journeys as one — that towards the great
end. St. John goes farther back, and speaks of the circum
stances which preceded Christ's journey to Jerusalem. The
events chronicled in the sixth chapter of St. John's Gospel
• st John to°k place immediately before the Passover,3-
vi. 4 which was on the fifteenth day of the first eccle-
"™'2 siastical month (Nisan), while the Feast of
Tabernacles b began on the same day of the seventh eccle
siastical month (Tishri). The six or seven months between
• ch. vi. the Feast of Passover ° and that of Tabernacles,3
ichlvii. an(j aii tbat passed within them, are covered by
this brief remark : ' After these things Jesus walked in
Galilee : for He would not walk in Judasa, because the
Jews [the leaders of the people] sought to kill Him.'
But now the Feast of Tabernacles was at hand. The
pilgrims would probably arrive in Jerusalem before the
opening day of the Festival. For besides the needful pre
parations—which would require time, especially on this
Feast, when booths had to be constructed in which to live
during the festive week — it was the common practice to
offer such sacrifices as might have previously become due
at any of the great Feasts to which the people might go

296 Jesus the Messiah
up. Remembering that five months had elapsed since the
last great Feast (that of Weeks), many such sacrifices
must have been due. Accordingly, the ordinary festive
companies of pilgrims, which would travel slowly, must
have started from Galilee some time before the beginning
of the Feast. These circumstances fully explain the details
of the narrative. They also afford another illustration of
the loneliness of Christ in His Work. His disciples had
failed to understand His Reaching. In the near prospect
of His Death they either displayed gross ignorance, or else
disputed about their future rank. And His own ' brethren '
did not believe in Him. The whole course of late events,
especially the unmet challenge of the Scribes for ' a sign
from heaven,' had deeply shaken them. If He really did
these ' Works,' let Him manifest Himself before the world
— in Jerusalem, the capital of their world, and before those
who could test the reality of them. Let Him come for
ward, at one of Israel's great Feasts, in the Temple, and
especially at this Feast which pointed to the Messianic in
gathering of all nations. Let Him now go up with them
in the festive company into Judaea, that so His disciples —
not the Galileans only, but all— might have the opportunity
of ' gazing ' on His Works.
As the challenge was not new, so from the worldly
point of view it can scarcely be called unreasonable. To
manifest Himself ! This truly would He do, though not
in their way. For this ' the season ' had not yet come,
though it would soon arrive. Their ' season ' — that for
such Messianic manifestations as they contemplated — was
' always ready.' And this naturally, for ' the world ' could
not ' hate ' them ; they and their demonstrations were quite
in accordance with the world and its views. But towards
Him the world cherished personal hatred, because of their
contrariety of principle, because Christ was manifested,
not to restore an earthly kingdom to Israel, but to bring
the Heavenly Kingdom upon earth — ' to destroy the works
of the Devil.' Hence, He must provoke the enmity of
that world which lay in the Wicked One. Another mani
festation than that which they sought would He makej

The Journey to Jerusalem 297
when His ' season was fulfilled ; ' soon, beginning at this
very Feast, continued at the next, and completed at the
last Passover ; such manifestation of Himself as the Christ,
as could alone be made in view of the essential enmity of
the world.
And so He let them go up in the festive company, while
Himself tarried. When the noise and publicity (which He
wished to avoid) were no longer to be apprehended, He
also went up, but privately, not publicly, as they had sug
gested. Here St. Luke's account begins. It almost reads
like a commentary on what the Lord had just said to His
brethren about the enmity of the world, and His mode of
manifestation. ' He came unto His own, and His own re
ceived Him not. But as many as received Him, to them
gave He power to become children of God . . . which were
born . . . of God.'
The first purpose of Christ seems to have been to take
the more direct -road to Jerusalem, through Samaria, and
not to follow that of the festive pilgrim-bands, which tra
velled to Jerusalem through. Peraea, in order to avoid the
land of their hated rivals. But His intention was soon
frustrated. In the very first Samaritan village to which
the Christ had sent beforehand to prepare for Himself and
His company, His messengers were told that the Rabbi
could not be received ; that neither hospitality nor friendly
treatment could be extended to One Who was going up to
the Feast at Jerusalem. The messengers who brought
back this strangely un-Oriental answer met the Master
and His followers on the road. It was not only an out
rage on common manners, but an act of open hostility to
Israel, as well as to Christ, and the ' Sons of Thunder,'
whose feelings for their Master were, perhaps, the more
deeply stirred as opposition to Him grew more fierce, pro
posed to vindicate the cause, alike of Israel and its Messiah-
King, by the open and Divine judgment of fire called down
from heaven to destroy that village. Did they in this
connection think of the vision of Elijah, ministering to
Christ on the Mount of Transfiguration — and was this
their application of it ? But He Who had come, not to

298 Jesus the Messiah
destroy, but to save, turned and rebuked them, and passed
from Samaritan into Jewish territory.
This journey was decisive not only as regarded the
Master, but those who followed Him. Henceforth it must
not be as in former times, but wholly and exclusively as
into suffering and death. It is thus that we view the next
three incidents of the way.
It seems that as, after the rebuff of these Samaritans,
they ' were going ' towards another, and a Jewish village,
' one ' of the company, and as we learn from St. Matthew,
' a Scribe,' in the generous enthusiasm of the moment —
perhaps stimulated by the wrong of the Samaritans, per
haps touched by the love which would rebuke the zeal of
the disciples, but had no word of blame for the unkindness
of others — broke into a spontaneous declaration of readiness
to follow Him absolutely and everywhere. But there was
one eventuality which that Scribe, and all of like enthusiasm,
reckoned not with — the utter homelessness of the Christ in
this world; and this, not from accidental circumstances,
but because He was ' the Son pf Man.'
The intenseness of the self-denial involved in following
Christ, and its contrariety to all that was commonly re
ceived among men, was immediately brought out. This
Scribe had proffered to follow Jesus. Another of His dis
ciples He asked to follow Him, and that in circumstances
» st. Luke of peculiar trial and difficulty.21 The expression
te- 59 ' to follow ' a Teacher would, in those days, be
universally understood, as implying discipleship. Again,
no other duty would be regarded as more sacred than that
they, on whom the obligation naturally devolved, should
bury the dead. To this everything must give way — even
prayer, and the study of the Law. Lastly, we feel certain
that when Christ called this disciple to follow Him, He
was fully aware that at that very moment his father lay
dead. Thus, He called him not only to homelessness — for
this he might have been prepared — but to set aside what
alike natural feeling and the Jewish Law seemed to impose
on him as the most sacred duty. In the apparently strange
reply which Christ made to the request to be allowed first

Of Following Christ 299
to bury his father, we pass over the consideration that,
according to Jewish Law, the burial and mourning for a
dead father and the subsequent purifications would have
occupied many days, so that it might have been difficult,
perhaps impossible, to overtake Christ. We would rather
abide by the simple words of Christ. They teach us
this searching lesson, that there are higher duties than
either those of the Jewish Law, or even of natural reverence,
and a higher call than that of man.
Yet another hindrance to following Christ was to be
faced. Another in the company would go with Him, but
he asked permission first to go and bid farewell to those
whom he had left in his home. It almost seems as if
this request had been one of those ' tempting ' questions
addressed to Christ. It shows that to follow Christ
was regarded as a duty, and to leave those in the earthly
home as a trial ; and it betokens not merely a divided
heart, but one not fit for the Kingdom of God. For
how can he draw a straight furrow in which to cast
the seed, who, as he puts his hand to the plough, looks
around or behind him ?
Thus, these are the three vital conditions of following
Christ : absolute self-denial and homelessness in the world ;
immediate and entire self-surrender to Christ ' and His
Work ; and a heart and affections simple, undivided,
and set on Christ and His Work — while there is no
other trial of parting like that which would involve parting
from Him, no other or higher joy than that of following
Him.

CHAPTER LI.

THE MISSION AND RETURN OF THE SEVENTY — THE HOME
AT BETHANY.
(St. Luke x. 1-16 ; St. Matt. ix. 36-38 ; xi. 20-24; St. Luke x. 17-24 j
St. Matt. xi. 25-30 ; xiii. 16 ; St. Luke x. 25, 38-42.)
It seems most likely that it was on His progress south
wards at this time that Jesus ' designated ' those ' seventy'

300 Jesus the Messiah
' others,' who were to herald His arrival in every town and
village. With all their similarity, there are notable differences
between the Mission of the Twelve and this of ' the other
Seventy.' Let it be noted that the former is recorded by
the three Evangelists, so that there could have been no
» st. Matt confusion on the part of St. Luke.a But the
It 6Marx vi. Mission of the Twelve was on their appointment to
st&Luke ix the Apostolate ; it was evangelistic and mission-
1 &c. ary ; and it was in confirmation and manifesta
tion of the 'power and authority' given to them. We
regard it, therefore, as symbolical of the Apostolate just
instituted, with its work and authority. On the other
hand, no power or authority was formally conferred on the
Seventy, their mission being only temporary ; its primary
object was to prepare for the coming of the Master in the
places to which they were sent ; and their selection was
from the wider circle of disciples, the number being now
Seventy instead of Twelve. Even these two numbers, as
well as the difference in the functions of the two classes of
messengers, seem to indicate that the Twelve symbolised
the princes of the tribes of Israel, while the Seventy were
the symbolical representatives of these tribes, like the
» Num. xt seventy elders appointed to assist Moses.b This
16 symbolical meaning of the number Seventy con
tinued among the Jews. We can trace it in the LXX
(supposed) translators of the Bible into Greeky and in the
seventy members of the Sanhedrin, or supreme court.
We mark that, what may be termed ' the Preface ' to
the Mission of the Seventy, is given by St. Matthew (in a
somewhat fuller form) as that to the appointment and
« st. Matt, mission of the Twelve Apostles ; u and it may
ix. 36-38 nave been, that kindred words had preceded both.
Partially, indeed, the expressions reported in St. Luke x. 2
a st. John had been employed long before.4 Those ' multi-
1T- 35 tudes ' throughout Israel — nay, those also which
' are not of that flock ' — appeared to His view like sheep
without a true shepherd's care, ' distressed and prostrate,'
and their mute misery appealed to His Divine com-

The Mission of the Seventy 301
passion. This constituted the ultimate ground of the
Mission of the Apostles, and now of that of the Seventy,
into a harvest that was truly great. Compared with the
extent of the field, and the urgency of the work, how few
were the labourers ! Yet, as the field was God's, so also
could He alone ' thrust forth labourers ' willing and able
to do His work, while it must be ours to pray that He
would be pleased to do so.
On these introductory words,"- which ever since have
• st Luke formed ' the bidding prayer ' of the Church in her
x-2 work for Christ, followed the commission and
special directions to the thirty-five pairs of disciples who
went on this embassy. In almost every particular they
are the same as those formerly given to the Twelve. We
mark, however, that both the introductory and the con
cluding words addressed to the Apostles are wanting in
what was said to the Seventy. It was not necessary to
warn them against going to the Samaritans, since the
direction of the Seventy was to those cities of Peraea and
Judaea, on the road to Jerusalem, through which Christ
was about to pass. Nor were they armed with precisely
'st Matt the same supernatural powers as the Twelve.b
TOnlp8.: Naturally, the personal directions as to their
st. Luke x. 9 conduct were in both cases substantially the
same. We mark only three peculiarities in those addressed
to the Seventy. The direction to ' salute no man by the
way ' was suitable to a temporary and rapid mission, which
might have been interrupted by making or renewing ac
quaintances. Both the Mishnah and the Talmud lay it
down, that prayer was not to be interrupted to salute even
a king, nay, to uncoil a serpent that had wound round the
foot. All agreed that immediately before prayer no one
should be saluted, to prevent distraction, and it was
advised rather to summarise or to cut short than to inter
rupt prayer, though the latter might be admissible in case
of absolute necessity. None of these provisions, however,
seems to have been in the mind of Christ. If any parallel
is to be sought, it would be found in the similar direction
of Elisha to Gehazi, when sent to lay the prophet's staff
on the dead child of the Shunammite.

302 Jesus the Messiah
The other two peculiarities in the address to the
Seventy seem verbal rather than real. The expression,0
¦st Luke ' if the Son of Peace be there,' is a Hebraism,
* st Matt equivalent to ' if the house be worthy,' b and re
s' !3 fers to the character of the head of the house and
the tone of the household. Lastly, the direction. to eat
• st. Luke and drink such things as were set before them °
x- 7| 8 is only a further explanation of the command to
abide in the house which had received them, without
seeking for better entertainment. On the other hand, the
whole most important close of the address to the Twelve —
« st. Matt which, indeed, forms by far the largest part of it d
xi. 16-42 — jg wanting in the commission to the Seventy,
thus clearly marking its merely temporary character.
In St. Luke's Gospel, the address to the Seventy is
followed by a denunciation of Chorazin and Beth-
• st. Luke saida.e This is evidently in its right place
x. 13-16 there, after the Ministry of Christ in Galilee had
been completed and finally rejected. In St. Matthew's
Gospel, it stands immediately after the Lord's rebuke of
'St. Matt, the popular rejection of the Baptist's message*
xi. 20-24 rpjjg i woe ' pronounced on those cities, in which
' most of His mighty works were done,' is in proportion to
the greatness of their privileges. The denunciation of
Chorazin and Bethsaida is the more remarkable, that
Chorazin is not otherwise mentioned in the Gospels, nor
yet any miracles recorded as having taken place in (the
western) Bethsaida, From this two inferences seem inevi
table. First, if this history were legendary, Jesus would
not be represented as selecting the names of places, which
the writer had not connected with the legend. Again, ap
parently no record has been preserved in the Gospels of most
of Christ's miracles — only those being narrated, which were
necessary in order to present Jesus as the Christ, in ac-
¦ st. John cordance with the respective plans on which each
xxl 25 0f t^ Gospels was constructed.8
Chorazin and Bethsaida are compared with Tyre and
Sidon, which under similar admonitions would have re
pented, while Capernaum, which, as for so long the home

The Mission of the Seventy 303
of Jesus, had truly ' been exalted to heaven,' is compared
with Sodom. And such guilt involved a still greater
punishment. The very site of Bethsaida and Chorazin
cannot be fixed with certainty. The former probably re
presents the ' Fisherton ' of Capernaum ; the latter St.
Jerome places two miles from Capernaum. If so, it may
be represented by the modern Kerazeh, somewhat to the
north-west of Capernaum. As for Capernaum itself —
standing on that vast field of ruins and upturned stones
which marks the site of the modern Tell Hum, we feel
that no description of it could be more pictorially true
than that in which Christ prophetically likened the city
in its downfall to the desolateness of death and ' Hades.'
Whether or not the Seventy actually returned to Jesus
before the Feast of Tabernacles, it is convenient to consider
in this connection the result of their Mission. It had
filled them with 'joy ; ' nay, the result had exceeded their
expectations, just as their faith had gone beyond the mere
letter unto the spirit of His Words. As they reported it
to Him, even the demons had been subject to them through
His Name. In this they had exceeded the letter of Christ's
commission; but as they made experiment of it, their faith
had grown, and they had applied His command to ' heal
the sick' to the worst of all sufferers, those grievously
vexed by demons. The Prince of Light and Life had
vanquished the Prince of Darkness and Death. The
» s-c John Prince of this world must be cast out.a In
xii. 31 spirit, Christ gazed on ' Satan falling as lightning
from heaven.' He sees of the travail of His soul, and is
satisfied !
What the faith of the Seventy had attained was now
to be made permanent to the Church, whose representatives
they were. For the words in which Christ now gave
authority and power to tread on serpents and scorpions,
and over all the power of the Enemy, and the promise
that nothing should hurt them, could not have been ad
dressed to the Seventy for a Mission which had now come
to an end, except in so far as they represented the Church
Universal. Yet it is not this power or authority which is

304 Jesus the Messiah
to be the main joy either of the Church or the individual,
but the fact that our names are written in heaven. And
so Christ brings us back to His great teaching about the
need of becoming children, and wherein lies the secret of
true greatness in the Kingdom.
The joy of the disciples was met by that of the Master,
and His teaching presently merged into a prayer of thanks
giving. Throughout the occurrences since the Transfigu
ration, we have noticed an increasing antithesis to the
teaching of the Rabbis. But it almost reached its climax
in the thanksgiving, that the Father in heaven had hid
these things from the wise and the understanding, and
revealed them unto babes. As we view it in the light of
those times, we know that ' the wise and understanding '
— the Rabbi and the Scribe — could not, from their stand
point, have perceived them. And so it must ever be the
law of the Kingdom and the fundamental principle of
Divine Revelation that, not as ' wise and understanding,'
but only as ' babes ' — as ' converted,' ' like children ' — we
can share in that knowledge which maketh wise unto salva
tion. This truly is the Gospel, and the Father's good
pleasure. The words a with which Christ turned from this address
¦ st Luke x. to the Seventy and thanksgiving to God, seem
almost like the Father's answer to the prayer of
the Son. They refer to and explain the authority which
Jesus had bestowed on His Church : ' All things were
delivered to Me of My Father ; ' and they afford the highest
rationale for the fact that these things had been hid from
the wise and revealed unto babes. For as no man, only
the Father, could have full knowledge of the Son, and con
versely no man, only the Son, had true knowledge of the
Father, it followed that this knowledge came to us, not of
wisdom or learning, but only through the Revelation of
Christ : ' No one knoweth Who the Son is, save the Father ;
and Who the Father is, save the Son, and he to whomso
ever the Son willeth to reveal Him.'
St. Matthew, who also records this — although in a
different connection — concludes this section by words which

The Yoke of Christ 305
have ever since been the grand text of those who, following
« st. Matt in the wake of the Seventy, have been ambassa-
xi. 28-so dors for Christ." On the other hand, St. Luke
23?24Luke *" concludes this part of his narrative by adducing
• comp. st. words equally congruous to the occasion,1" which,
Matt xiu. ie indeed, are not new in the mouth of the Lord.0
From their suitableness to what had preceded, we can
have little doubt that both that which St. Matthew, and
that which St. Luke report were spoken on this occasion.
Because knowledge of the Father came only through the
Son, and because these things were hidden from the wise
and revealed to ' babes,' did the gracious Lord open His
Arms and bid all that laboured and were heavy laden come
to Him. These were the sheep, distressed and prostrate,
whom to gather, that He might give them rest, He had
sent forth the Seventy on a work for which He had prayed
the Father to thrust forth labourers, and which He has
since entrusted to the faith and service of love of the
Church. And the true wisdom, which qualified for the
Kingdom, was to take up His yoke, which would be found
easy, not like that unbearable yoke of Rabbinic
conditions ;d and the true understanding to be
sought was by learning of Him. In that wisdom of enter
ing the Kingdom by taking up its yoke, and in that know
ledge which came by learning of Him, Christ was Himself
alike the true lesson and the best teacher for those ' babes.'
For He is meek and lowly in heart, and so, by coming unto
Him, would true rest be found for the soul.
These words, as recorded by St. Matthew — the Evan
gelist of the Jews — must have sunk the deeper into the
hearts of Christ's Jewish hearers, that they came in their
own old familiar form of speech, yet with such contrast
of spirit. One of the most common figurative expressions
of the time was that of ' the yoke,' to indicate submission
to an occupation or obligation. Thus we read not only of
the ' yoke of the Law,' but of that of ' earthly governments,'
and ordinary ' civil obligations.' This yoke might be ' cast
off,' as the ten tribes had cast off that ' of God,' and thus
brought on themselves their exile. On the other hand, to
X

306 Jesus the Messiah
' take upon oneself the yoke ' meant to submit to it of free
choice and deliberate resolution. Of Isaiah it was said
that he had been privileged to prophesy of so many
blessings, ' because he had taken upon himself the yoke of
the Kingdom of Heaven with joy.' And, as previously
stated, it was set forth that in the ' Shema,' or Creed — which
was repeated every day — the words, Deut. vi. 4-9, were
recited before those in xi. 13-21, so as first generally to
' take upon ourselves the yoke of the Kingdom of Heaven,
and only afterwards that of the commandments.' And this
yoke all Israel had taken upon itself, thereby gaining the
merit ever afterwards imputed to them.
Yet, practically, ' the yoke of the Kingdom ' was none
other than that ' of the Law ' and ' of the commandments ; '
ou^ of laborious performances and of impossible self-
righteousness. It was ' unbearable,' not ' the easy ' yoke
of Christ, in which the Kingdom of God was of faith, not
of works. This voluntary making of the yoke as heavy as
possible, the taking on themselves as many obligations as
possible, was the ideal of Rabbinic piety. There was,
therefore, peculiar teaching and comfort in the words of
» st. Luke x. Christ; and well might He add, as St. Luke
23,24 reports,3- that blessed were they who saw and
heard these things.
It seems not unlikely, that the scene next recorded by
St. Luke b stands in its right place. Such an
inquiry on the part of a ' certain lawyer,' as to
what he should do to inherit eternal life, together with
Christ's Parabolic teaching about the Good Samaritan, is
evidently congruous to the previous teaching of Christ
about entering into the Kingdom of Heaven. Possibly,
this Scribe may have understood the words of the Master
about these things being hid from the wise, and the need
of taking up the yoke of the Kingdom, as enforcing the
views of those Rabbinic teachers who laid more stress
upon good works than upon study.
From this interruption, which, but for the teaching
of Christ connected with it, would have formed a discord
in the heavenly harmony of this journey, we turn to a far

The Home at Bethany 307
other scene. It must mark the close of Christ's journey to
the Feast of Tabernacles, since the home of Martha and
Mary, to which it introduces us, was in Bethany, close to
Jerusalem, almost one of its suburbs. From the narrative
of Christ's reception in the house of Martha, we gather
that Jesus had arrived in Bethany with His disciples, but
» st. Luke x. that He alone was the guest of the two sisters."
We infer that Christ had dismissed His disciples
to go into the neighbouring City for the Feast, while Him
self tarried in Bethany. With this agrees the notice in
St. John vii. 14, that it was not at the beginning, but
' about the midst of the feast,' that ' Jesus went up into
the Tempfe.' Although travelling on the two first festive
days was not actually unlawful, yet we can scarcely conceive
that Jesus would have done so — especially on the Feast of
Tabernacles ; and the inference is obvious, that Jesus had
tarried in the immediate neighbourhood, as we know He
did at Bethany in the house of Martha and Mary.
Other things, also, do so explain themselves — notably,
the absence of the brother of Martha and Mary, who pro
bably spent the festive days in the City itself. It was the
beginning of the Feast of Tabernacles, and the scene re
corded by St. Lukeb would take place in the
open leafy booth which served as the sitting
apartment during the festive week. For, according to
law, it was duty during the festive week to eat, sleep, pray,
study — in short, to live — in these booths, which were to
be constructed of the boughs of living trees. And, although
this was not absolutely obligatory on women, yet the rule
which bade all make 'the booth the principal, and the
house only the secondary dwelling,' would induce them to
make this leafy tent at least the sitting apartment alike
for men and women. They were high enough, and yet
not too high ; chiefly open in front ; close enough to be
shady, and yet not so close as to exclude sunlight and air.
Such would be the apartment in which what is recorded
passed ; and, if we add that this booth stood probably in
the court, we can picture to ourselves Martha moving
forwards and backwards on her busy errands, and seeing,
x 2

308 Jesus the Messiah
as she went, Mary still sitting a rapt listener, not heeding
what passed around ; and, lastly, how the elder sister could,
as the language of verse 40 implies, enter so suddenly the
Master's Presence, bringing her complaint.
To understand this history, we must dismiss from our
minds preconceived, though, perhaps, attractive thoughts.
There is no evidence that the household of Bethany had
previously belonged to the circle of Christ's professed dis
ciples. It was, as the whole history shows, a wealthy home.
Although we know not how it came so to be, the house
was evidently Martha's, and into it she received Jesus on
His arrival in Bethany. It would have been no uncommon
occurrence in Israel for a pious, wealthy lady to receive a
great Rabbi into her house. But the present was not an
ordinary case. Martha must have heard of Him, even if
she had not seen Him. But, indeed, the whole narrative
» comp. st. implies a that Jesus had come to Bethany with
Luke x. 38 the view of accepting the hospitality of Martha,
which probably had been proffered when some of those
' Seventy,' sojourning in the worthiest house at Bethany,
had announced the near arrival of the Master. Still, her
bearing affords only indication of being drawn towards
Christ — at most, of a sincere desire to learn the good news,
not of actual discipleship.
And so Jesus came. He was to lodge in one of the
booths, the sisters in the house, and the great booth in the
middle of the courtyard would be the common living apart
ment of all. This festive season was a busy time for the
mistress of a wealthy household, especially in the near
neighbourhood of Jerusalem, whence her brother might,
after the first two festive days, bring with him any time
that week honoured guests from the City. To these cares
was now added that of doing sufficient honour to such a
Guest — for she must already have deeply felt His greatness.
And so she hurried to and fro through the courtyard,
literally, ' distracted about much serving.'
Her younger sister, also, would do Him all highest
honour; but not as Martha. Her homage consisted in
forgetting all else but Him, Who spake as none had ever

THE HOME AT BETHANY.

The Feast of Tabernacles 309
done. ' She sat at the Lord's Feet, and heard His Word.'
And so, time after time, as Martha passed on her busy
way, she still sat listening and living. At last the sister,
who in her impatience could not think that a woman
could in such manner fulfil her duty or show forth her
religious profiting, broke in with what sounds like a
querulous complaint : ' Lord, dost Thou not care that my
sister did leave me to serve alone ? ' Mary had served with
her, but she had now left her to do the work alone. With
tone of gentle reproof and admonition, the affectionateness
of which appeared even in the repetition of her name,
' Martha, Martha ' — as similarly, on a later occasion, ' Simon,
Simon '—did He teach her in words which, however simple
in their primary meaning, are so full that they have ever
since borne the most many-sided application : ' Thou art
careful and anxious about many things : but one thing is
needful; and Mary hath chosen that good part, which
shall not be taken away from her.'

CHAPTER LII.

AT THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES — FIEST DISCOURSE IN
THE TEMPLE.
(St. John vii. 11-36.)
It was the non-sacred part of the festive week, the half-
holy days. Jerusalem wore quite another than its usual
aspect ; other, even, than when its streets were thronged
by festive pilgrims during the Passover-week, or at Pente
cost. For this was pre-eminently the Feast for foreign
pilgrims, coming from the farthest distance, whose Temple-
contributions were then received and counted. As the
Jerusalemite would look with proud self-consciousness, not
unmingled with kindly patronage, on the swarthy strangers,
yet fellow-countrymen, or the eager-eyed Galilean curiously
stare after them, the pilgrims would in turn gaze with
mingled awe and wonderment on the novel scene.
AH day long the smoke of the burning, smouldering

310 Jesus the Messiah
sacrifices rose in slowly-widening column, and hung between
the Mount of Olives and Zion ; the chant of Levites and the
solemn responses of the Hallel were borne on the breeze, or
the clear blast of the Priests' silver trumpets seemed to
waken the echoes far away. And then, at night, how all
these vast Temple-buildings stood out, illuminated by the
great Candelabras that burned in the Court of the Women,
and by the glare of torches, when strange sound of mystic
hymns and dances came floating over the intervening dark
ness ! Truly, well might Israel designate the Feast of
Tabernacles as ' the Feast,'" and the Jewish historian describe
it as ' the holiest and greatest.'
Early on the 14th Tishri (corresponding to our Sep
tember or early October), all the festive pilgrims had arrived.
Then it was indeed a scene of bustle and activity. Hos
pitality had to be sought and found ; guests to be welcomed
and entertained ; all things required for the Feast to be got
ready. Booths must be erected everywhere — in court and
on housetop, in street and square, for the lodgment and
entertainment of that vast multitude; leafy dwellings
everywhere, to remind of the wilderness-journey, and now
of the goodly land. Only that fierce castle, Antonia, which
frowned above the Temple, was undecked by the festive
spring into which the land had burst. To the Jew it must
have been a hateful sight, that castle, which guarded and
dominated his own City and Temple. Yet, for all this,
Israel could not read on the lowering sky the signs of the
times, nor yet knew the day of their merciful visitation.
And this, although of all festivals that of Tabernacles
should have most clearly pointed them to the future.
Indeed, the whole symbolism of the Feast, beginning
with the completed harvest, for which it was a thanks
giving, pointed to the future. The Rabbis themselves
admitted this. The strange number of sacrificial bullocks
— seventy in all — they regarded as referring to ' the seventy
nations ' of heathendom. The ceremony of the outpouring
of water, which was considered of such vital importance as
to give to the whole festival the name of ' House of Out
pouring,' was symbolical of the outpouring of the Holy

The Feast of Tabernacles 311
Spirit. As the brief night of the great Temple-illumination
closed, there was solemn testimony made before Jehovah
against heathenism. It must have been a stirring scene,
when from out the mass of Levites, with their musical instru
ments, who crowded the fifteen steps that led from the
Court of Israel to that of the Women, stepped two Priests
with their silver trumpets. As the first cockcrowing in
timated the dawn of morn, they blew a threefold blast,
another on the tenth step, and yet another threefold blast
as they entered the Court of the Women. And, still
sounding their trumpets, they marched through the Court
of the Women to the Beautiful Gate. Here, turning round
and facing westwards to the Holy Place, they repeated :
'Our fathers, who were in this place, they turned their
backs on the Sanctuary of Jehovah, and their faces east
ward, for they worshipped eastward, the sun ; but we, our
eyes are towards Jehovah.' ' We are Jehovah's — our eyes
are towards Jehovah.' Nay, the whole of this night- and
morning-scene was symbolical : the Temple-illumination,
of the light which was to shine from out the Temple into
the dark night of heathendom ; then, at the first dawn of
morn the blast of the Priests' silver trumpets, of the army
of God, as it advanced with festive trumpet-sound and call
to awaken the sleepers, marching on to quite the utmost
bounds of the Sanctuary, to the Beautiful Gate, which
opened upon the Court of the Gentiles— and then again
facing round to utter solemn protest against heathenism,
and make solemn confession of Jehovah !
But Jesus did not appear in the Temple during the
first two festive days. The pilgrims from all parts of the
country had expected Him there, for everyone would now
speak of Him—' not openly,' in Jerusalem, for they were
afraid of their rulers. But they sought Him, and inquired
after Him — a low, confused discussion of the pro and con.
in this great controversy among the ' multitudes,' or festive
bands from various parts. Some said : ' He is a good man,'
while others declared that He only led astray the common,
ignorant populace. And now, all at once, in the half-holy-
days, Jesus Himself appeared in the Temple, and taught.

312 Jesus the Messiah
We know that on a later occasion a He walked and taught
.„ T , in ' Solomon's Porch,' and, from the circumstance
Bbt joun x. 1_,J1 7nl. ..
23 that the early disciples made this their com-
°Actsv.i2 m0n meeting-place,b we may draw the inference
that it was here the people now found Him. Although
neither Josephus nor the Mishnah mentions this ' Porch ' by
name, we have every reason for believing that it was the
eastern colonnade, which abutted against the Mount of
Olives and faced ' the Beautiful Gate,' that formed the
principal entrance into the ' Court of the Women,' and so
into the Sanctuary. For all along the inside of the great
wall which formed the Temple-enclosure ran a double
colonnade — each column a monolith of white marble, 25
cubits high, .covered with 'cedar-beams. These colonnades,
which, from their ample space, formed alike places for quiet
walk and for larger gatherings, had benches in them — alhd,
from the liberty of speaking and teaching in Israel, Jesus
might here address the people in the very face of His
enemies. "W*e know not what was the subject of Christ's teach
ing on this occasion. But the effect on the people was
one of general astonishment. They knew what common
° st John unlettered Galilean tradesmen were — but this,
acomp.Acts whence came it ? c ' How does this one know litera-
xxvi. 24 ture (letters, learning),11 never having learned ? '
To the Jews there was only one kind of learning — that of
Theology; andonly one road to it — theSchools of the Rabbis.
Their major was true, but their minor false, and Jesus
hastened to correct it. He had, indeed, ' learned,' but in
a School quite other than those which alone they recognised.
Yet, on their own showing, it claimed submission.
Among the Jews a Rabbi's teaching derived authority
from the fact of its accordance with tradition — that it
accurately represented what had been received from a
previous great teacher, and so on upwards to Moses, and to
God Himself. On this ground Christ claimed the highest
authority. His doctrine was not His own invention : it
was the teaching of Him that sent Him. The doctrine
was God-received, and Christ was sent direct from God to

'Sent of God' 313
bring it. He was God's messenger of it to them.*
* st John Everyone who in his soul felt drawn towards God,
TU-16>1S' each one who really 'willeth to do His Will,'
would know ' concerning this teaching, whether it is of
God,' or whether it was of man. It was this felt, though
unrealised influence, which had drawn all men after Him,
so that they hung on His lips.
Jesus had said : ' He shall know of the teaching,
whether it be of God, or whether I speak from Myself.'
From Myself ? Why, there is this other test of it : ' Who
speaketh from himself, seeketh his own glory ' — there can
be no doubt or question of this, but do I seek My own
glory ? — ' But He Who seeketh the glory of Him Who
sent Him, He is true [a faithful messenger], and un
righteousness is not in Him.' b Thus did Christ
appeal and prove it : My doctrine is of God, and
I am sent of God !
Sent of God, no unrighteousness in Him ! And yet at
that very moment there hung over Him the charge of de
fiance of the Law of Moses, nay, of that of God, in an open
breach of the Sabbath-commandment — there, in that very
City, the last time He had been in Jerusalem ; for which,
as well as for His Divine Claims, the Jews were even then
= st. John v. seeking ' to kill Him.' c And this forms the tran-
18 sition to what may be called the second part of
Christ's address.- Here He argues as a Jew would argue
with Jews, only the substance of the reasoning is to all
times and people. In His reply the two threads of the
former argument are taken up. Doing is the condition of
knowledge — and a messenger had been sent from God !
Admittedly, Moses was such, and yet every one of them
was breaking the Law which he had given them ; for were
they not seeking to kill Him without right or justice ?
a oh. vii. 19, This, put in the form of a double question,3 re-
20 presents a peculiarly Jewish mode of argumenta
tion, behind which lay the truth, that those whose hearts
were so little longing to do the Will of God, not only must
remain ignorant of His Teaching as that of God, but had
also rejected that of Moses.

314 Jesus the Messiah
A general disclaimer, a cry ' Thou hast a demon ' (art
possessed), ' who seeks to kill Thee ? ' here broke in upon
the Speaker. But He would not be interrupted, and con
tinued : ' One work I did, and all you wonder on account
of it ' — referring to His healing on the Sabbath, and their
utter inability to understand His conduct. Well, then,
Moses was a messenger of God, and I am sent of God.
Moses gave the law of circumcision — not, indeed, that it
was of his authority, but had long before been God-given
— and, to observe this law, no one hesitated to break the
Sabbath, since, according to Rabbinic principle, a positive
ordinance superseded a negative. .And yet when Christ,
as sent from God, made a man every whit whole on the
Sabbath (' made a whole man sound '), they were angry
» st. John with Him ! a Every argument which might have
¦m. 21-24 been urged in favour of the postponement of Christ's
healing to a week-day, would equally apply to that of cir
cumcision ; while every reason that could be urged in favour
of Sabbath-circumcision, would tell an hundredfold in favour
of the act of Christ. Let them not judge, then, after the
mere outward appearance, but 'judge the right judgment.'
From the reported remarks of some Jerusalemites in the
crowd we learn that the fact that He, Whom they sought
to kill, was suffered to speak openly, seemed incomprehen
sible.1" Could it be that the authorities were
shaken in their former ideas about Him, and now
regarded Him as the Messiah ? But it could not be. It was
a settled popular belief, and in a sense not quite unfounded,
that the appearance of the Messiah would be sudden and
unexpected. He might be there, and not be known ; or He
might come, and be again hidden for a time. As they put
it, when Messiah came no one would know whence He was ;
but they all knew ' whence this One ' was. And with this
rough and ready argument they, like so many«among us,
settled off-hand and once for all the great question. But
Jesus could not, even for the sake of His disciples, let it
rest there. ' Therefore ' He lifted up His voice, that it
reached the dispersing, receding multitude. Yes, they
thought they knew both Him and whence He came.

Discourse in the Temple 315
It would have been so had He come from Himself. But He
had been sent, and He that sent Him ' was real ; ' though they
knew Him not. And so, with a reaffirmation of His two-
» st. John fold claim, His Discourse closed.a But they had
understood His allusions, and in their anger would
fain have laid hands on Him, but His hour had not come.
Yet others were deeply stirred to faith. As they parted
they spoke of it among themselves, and the sum of it all
was : ' The Christ, when He cometh, will He do more
miracles (signs) than this One did ? '
So ended the first teaching of that day in the Temple.
And as the people dispersed, the leaders of the Pharisees
— who, no doubt aware of the presence of Christ in the
Temple, yet unwilling to be in the number of His hearers,
had watched the effect of His Teaching — overheard the
furtive, half-spoken remarks (' the murmuring ') of the
people about Him. Presently they conferred with the
heads of the priesthood and the chief Temple-officials.
Although there was neither meeting, nor decree of the
Sanhedrin about it, nor, indeed, could be, orders were
given to the Temple-guard on the first possible occasion
to seize Him. Jesus was aware of it, and as, either on this
or another day, He was moving in the Temple, watched
by the spies of the rulers and followed by a mingled crowd
of disciples and enemies, deep sadness in view of the end
filled His heart. ' Jesus therefore said ' — no doubt to His
disciples, though in the hearing of all — ' Yet a little while
am I with you, then I go away to Him that sent Me.
Ye shall seek Me, and not find Me; and where I am,
thither ye cannot come.' b Mournful words, these,
which were only too soon to become true. But
those who heard them naturally failed to comprehend their
meaning. Was He about to leave Palestine, and go
among the dispersed who lived in heathen lands, to teach
the Greeks ? Or what could be His meaning ?

316 Jesus the Messiah

CHAPTER LIII.
'IN THE LAST, THE GREAT DAY OF THE FEAST.'
(St. John vii. 37-viii. 11.)
It was ' the last, the Great Day of the Feast,' and Jesus was
once more in the Temple. We have in this Feast the
only Old Testament type yet unfulfilled ; the only Jewish
festival which has no counterpart in the cycle of the
Christian year, just because it points forward to that great,
yet unfulfilled hope of the Church : the ingathering of
Earth's nations to the Christ.
The celebration ofthe Feast corresponded to its meaning.
Not only did all the priestly families minister during that
week, but it has been calculated that not fewer than 446
Priests, with, of course, a corresponding number of Levites,
were required for its sacrificial worship. In general, the
services were the same every day, except that the number
of bullocks offered decreased daily from thirteen on the
first to seven on the seventh day. Only during the first
two, and on the last festive day (as also on the Octave of
the Feast), was strict Sabbatic rest enjoined. On the
intervening half-holy days, although no new labour was to
be undertaken, unless in the public service, the ordinary
and necessary avocations of the home and of life were
carried on, and especially all done that was required for
the festive season. But ' the last, the Great Day of the
Feast,' was marked by special observances.
Let us suppose ourselves in the number of worshippers
who are leaving their ' booths ' at daybreak to take part in
the service. The pilgrims are all in festive array. In his
right hand each carries a myrtle and willow-branch tied
together with a palm-branch between them. This was
supposed to be in fulfilment of the command, Lev. xxiii.
40. ' The fruit (A.V. ' boughs ') of the goodly trees,'
mentioned in the same verse of Scripture, was supposed to
be the so-called Paradise-apple, a species of citron. This
each worshipper carries in his left hand.

'The Last, the Great Day of the Feast' 117
Thus provided, the festive multitude would divide into
three bands. Some would remain in the Temple to attend
the preparation of the Morning Sacrifice. Another band
would go in procession ' below Jerusalem ' to a place which
some have sought to identify with the Emmaus of the
Resurrection-Evening. Here they cut down willow-
branches, with which, amidst the blasts of the Priests'
trumpets, they adorned the altar, forming a leafy canopy
about it. Yet a third company was taking part in a still
more interesting service. To the sound of music a pro
cession started from the Temple. It followed a Priest
who bore a golden pitcher, capable of holding about two
pints. Onwards it passed, probably through Ophel, which
recent investigations have shown to have been covered
with buildings to the very verge of Siloam, down the edge
of the Tyropoeon Valley, where it merges into that of the
Kedron. To this day terraces mark where the gardens,
watered by the living spring, extended from the King's
Gardens down to the entrance into the Tyropoeon.
When the Temple-procession had reached the Pool
of Siloam, the Priest filled his golden pitcher from its
waters. Then they went back to the Temple, so timing
it that they should arrive just as the pieces of the
sacrifice were being laid on the great Altar of Burnt-offering
towards the close of the ordinary Morning-Sacrifice service.
A threefold blast of the Priests' trumpets welcomed the
arrival of the Priest, as he entered through the ' Water
gate,' which obtained its name from this ceremony, and
passed straight into the Court of the Priests. Here he
was joined by another Priest, who carried the wine for the
drink-offering. The two Priests ascended ' the rise ' of
the altar, and turned to the left. There were two silver
funnels here, with narrow openings, leading down to the
base of the altar. Into that at the east, which was some
what wider, the wine was poured, and, at the same time,
the water into the western and narrower opening.
Immediately after 'the pouring of water,' the great
' Hallel,' consisting of Psalms cxiii. to cxviii. (inclusive),
was chanted antiphonally, or rather with responses, to the

318 Jesus the Messiah
accompaniment of the flute. As the Levites intoned the
first line of each Psalm, the people repeated it ; while to
each of the other lines they responded by Hallelu Yah
(' Praise ye the Lord '). But in Psalm cxviii. the people
not only repeated the first line, ' 0 give thanks to the
Lord,' but also these, ' 0 then, work now salvation, Jeho-
* Ps cxviii. vaV * ' 0 Lord, send now prosperity ; ' b and
25 again, at the close of the Psalm, ' 0 give thanks
b y™ 25 to the Lord.' As they repeated these lines,
they shook towards the altar the branches which they held
in their hands — as if with this token of the past to express
the reality and cause of their praise, and to remind God of
His promises. It is this moment which should be chiefly
kept in view.
The festive morning-service was followed by the offer
ing of the special sacrifices for the day, with their drink-
offerings, and by the Psalm for the day, which, on ' the
last, the Great Day of the Feast,' was Psalm Ixxxii. from
verse 5. The Psalm was, of course, chanted as always
to instrumental accompaniment, and at the end of each of
its three sections the Priests blew a threefold blast, while
the people bowed down in worship. In further symbolism
of this Feast, a3 pointing to the ingathering of the heathen
nations, the public services closed with a procession round
the altar by the Priests, who chanted, ' 0 then, work now
salvation, Jehovah ! 0 Jehovah, send now prosperity.' °
<¦ Ps. cxviii. But on ' the last, the Great Day of the Feast,'
25 this procession of Priests made the circuit of the
altar, not only once but seven times, as if they were again
compassing, but now with prayer, the Gentile Jericho
which barred their possession of the promised land. Hence
the seventh or last day of the Feast was also called that
of ' the Great Hosannah.' As the people left the Temple,
they saluted the altar with words of thanks, and on the
last day of the Feast they shook off the leaves on the
willow-branches round the altar, and beat their palm-
branches to pieces. On the same afternoon the ' booths '
were dismantled, and the Feast ended.
We can have little difficulty in determining at what

4 The Last, the Great Day of the Feast' 319
part of the services of ' the last, the Great Day of the
Feast,' Jesus stood and cried, ' If any one thirst, let him
come unto Me and drink ! ' It must have been with
special reference to the ceremony of the outpouring of the
water, which was considered the central part of the service.
Moreover, all would understand that His words must refer
to the Holy Spirit, since the rite was universally re
garded as symbolical of His outpouring. The forthpouring
of the water was immediately followed by the chanting of
the Hallel. But after that there must have been a short
pause to prepare for the festive sacrifices. It was then,
immediately after the symbolic rite of water-pouring,
immediately after the people had responded by repeating
those lines from Psalm cxviii. — given thanks, and prayed
that Jehovah would send salvation and prosperity, and
had shaken their branches towards the altar, thus praising
' with heart and mouth and hands,' and then silence
had fallen upon them — that there rose, so loud as to be
heard throughout the Temple, the Voice of Jesus. He
interrupted not the services, for they had for the moment
ceased : He interpreted, and He fulfilled them.
Of those who had heard Him, none but must have
understood that, if the invitation were indeed real, and
Christ the fulfilment of all, then the promise also had its
deepest meaning, that he who believed on Him would not
only receive the promised fulness of the Spirit, but give it
forth to the fertilising of the barren waste around. It
was, truly, the fulfilment of the Scripture-promise, not
of one but of all : that in Messianic times the ' prophet,'
literally the ' weller forth,' viz., ofthe Divine, should not be
one or another select individual, but that He would pour
out on all His handmaidens and servants of His Holy
Spirit, and thus the moral wilderness of this world be
changed into a fruitful garden. What was new to them
was that all this was treasured up in the Christ, that out
of His fulness men might receive. And yet even this was
not quite new. For was it not the fulfilment of that old
prophetic cry : ' The Spirit of the Lord Jehovah is upon
Me : therefore has He Messiahed (anointed) Me to preach

320 Jesus the Messiah
good tidings unto the poor ' ? So, then, it was nothing
new, only the happy fulfilment of the old, when He thus
' spake of the Holy Spirit, Which they who believed on
Him should receive,' not then, but upon His Messianic
exaltation. And so we scarcely wonder that many on hearing
Him said, though not with that heart-conviction which
would have led to self-surrender, that He was the Prophet
promised of old, even the Christ ; while others, by their
side, regarding Him as a Galilean, the Son of Joseph,
raised the ignorant objection that He could not be the
Messiah, since the latter must be of the seed of David and
come from Bethlehem. Nay, such was the anger of some
against what they regarded a dangerous seducer of the
poor people, that they would fain have laid violent hands
on Him. But amidst all this, the strongest testimony to
His Person and Mission remains to be told. It came, as
so often, from a quarter whence it could least have been
expected. Those Temple-officers, whom the authorities had
commissioned to watch an opportunity for seizing Jesus,
now returned without having done their behest, and that
when, manifestly, the scene in the Temple might have
offered the desired ground for His imprisonment. To the
question of the Pharisees, they could only give this reply,
which has ever since remained unquestionable fact of
history, admitted alike by friend and foe : ' Never man so
spake as this Man.'
The scene which followed is so thoroughly Jewish, that
it alone would suffice to prove the Jewish, and hence
Johannine, authorship of the Fourth Gospel. The harsh
sneer : ' Are ye also led astray ? ' is succeeded by pointing
to the authority of the learned and great, who with one
accord were rejecting Jesus. ' But this people ' — the
country-people, the ignorant, unlettered rabble — ' are
cursed.' But there was one standing among the Temple-autho
rities, whom an uneasy conscience would Uot allow to
remain quite silent. It was the Sanhedrist Nicodemus.
He could not hold his peace, and yet he dared not speak

Teaching in the Temple 321
for Christ. So he made compromise of both by taking
the part of, and speaking as a righteous, rigid Sanhedrist.
' Does our Law judge (pronounce sentence upon) a man,
except it first hear from himself and know what he doeth ? '
From the Rabbinic point of view, no sounder judicial saying
could have been uttered. Yet such common-place helped
not the cause of Jesus, and it disguised not the advocacy
of Nicodemus. We know what was thought of Galilee in
the Rabbinic world. ' Art thou also of Galilee ? Search
and see, for out of Galilee ariseth no prophet.' '

CHAPTER LIV.

TEACHING IN THE TEMPLE ON THE OCTAVE OF THE
FEAST OF TABERNACLES.
(St. John viii. 12-59.)
The addresses of Jesus which followed must have been
delivered either later on that day, or, as seems more likely,
chiefly, or all, on the next day, which was the Octave
of the Feast, when the Temple would be once more
thronged by worshippers.
On this occasion we find Christ first in ' the Treasury,' a
and then b in some unnamed part of the sacred
viu.'20 building, in all probability one of the.' Porches.'
Greater freedom could be here enjoyed, since
these ' Porches,' which enclosed the Court of the Gentiles,
did not form part of the Sanctuary in the stricter sense.
Discussions might take place, in which not, as in ' the
Treasury,' only ' the Pharisees,' c but the people
generally, might propound questions, answer, or
assent. Again, as regards the requirements of the present
narrative, since the Porches opened upon the Court, the
1 The reader will observe that the narrative of the woman taken in
adultery, as also the previous verse (St. John vii. 53-viii. 11) have
been left oijt in this History — although with great reluctance. By this
it is not intended to characterise that section as Apocryphal. All that
we feel bound to maintain is that the narrative in its present form did
not exist in the Gospel of St. John. Y

322 Jesus the Messiah
Jews might there pick up stones to cast at Him (which
would have been impossible in any part of the Sanctuary
itself), while, lastly, Jesus might easily pass out of the
Temple in the crowd that moved through the Porches to
the outer gates.
But the narrative first transports us into ' the Treasury,'
where ' the Pharisees ' — or leaders — would alone venture
to speak. This would be within ' the Court of the Women,'
the common meeting-place of the worshippers, and, as we
may say, the most generally attended part of the Sanctuary.
Here, in the hearing of the leaders of the people, took
place the first Dialogue between Christ and the Pharisees.
It opened with what probably was an allusion alike to
one of the great ceremonies of the Feast of Tabernacles, to
its symbolic meaning, and to an express Messianic expec
tation of the Rabbis. As the Mishnah states : On the first,
or, as the Talmud would have it, on every night of the
festive week, ' the Court of the Women ' was brilliantly
illuminated, and the night spent in the demonstrations
already described. This was called ' the joy of the Feast:'
This ' festive joy,' of which the origin is obscure, was no
doubt connected with the hope of earth's great harvest-joy
in the conversion of the heathen world, and so pointed to
'the days of the Messiah.' In connection with this we
mark that the term 'light' was specially applied to the
Messiah. In a very interesting passage of the Midrash we
are told that, while commonly windows were made wide
within and narrow without, it was the opposite in the
Temple of Solomon, because the light issuing from the
Sanctuary was to lighten that which was without. This
»st Luke u. reminds us ofthe language of devout old Simeon
82 in regard to the Messiah,a as ' a light to lighten
the Gentiles, and the glory of His people Israel.' We
ought to refer to a passage in another Midrash, where,
after a remarkable discussion on such names of the Messiah
as ' the Lord our Righteousness,' ' the Branch,' ' the Com
forter,' ' Shiloh,' ' Compassion,' His Birth is connected with
the destruction, and His return with the restoration of the
Temple. But in that very passage the Messiah is also

Teaching in the Temple 323
specially designated as the ' Enlightener,' the words : ' the
light dwelleth with Him,'a being applied to
* 1) fi .11, u. 22 tt -
Him.
What has just been stated shows that the Pharisees could
not have mistaken the Messianic meaning in the words of
Jesus, in their reference to the past festivity : ' I am the
Light of the world.' Substantially, the Discourses which
follow are a continuation of those previously delivered at
this Feast. What Jesus had gradually communicated to
the disciples, who were so unwilling to receive it, had now
become an acknowledged fact. It was no longer a secret
that the leaders of Israel and Jerusalem were compassing
the Death of Jesus. This underlies all His Words. And
He sought to turn them from their purpose, not by appeal
ing to their pity or to any lower motive, but by claiming
as His right that for which they would condemn Him. He
was the Sent of God, the Messiah ; although, to know Him
and His mission, it needed moral kinship with Him that
had sent Him. But this they did not possess; nay, no
man possessed it, till given him of God. This was not
exactly new in these Discourses of Christ, but it was now
far more clearly stated and developed.
As a corollary He would teach that Satan was not a
merely malicious being, working outward destruction, but
that there was a moral power of evil which held us all — not
the Gentile world only, but even the most favoured, learned,
and exalted among the Jews. Of this power Satan was
the concentration and impersonation; the prince of the
power of 'darkness.' This opens up the reasoning of
Christ, alike as expressed and implied. He presented
Himself to them as the Messiah, and hence as the Light of
the World. It resulted that only in following Him would
a man ' not walk in the darkness,' but have the light — and
- 1. st. John tnat; be it marked, not the light of knowledge,
viii 12 l)Ut 0f life.b On the other hand, it also followed
that all who were not within this light were in darkness
and in death.
It was an appeal to the moral in His hearers. The
Pharisees sought to turn it aside by an appeal to the

324 Jesus the Messiah
external and visible. They asked for some witness, or pal-
¦ st John pable evidence, of what they called His testimony
™il3 #bout Himself," well knowing that such could
only be through some external, visible, miraculous mani
festation, just as they had formerly asked for a sign from
heaven. The Bible, and especially the Evangelic history,
is full of what men ordinarily, and often thoughtlessly, call
the miraculous. But in this case the miraculous would
have become the magical, which it never is. If Christ had
yielded to their appeal, and transferred the question from
the moral to the coarsely external sphere, He would have
ceased to be the Messiah of the Incarnation, Temptation,
and Cross, the Messiah-Saviour. A miracle or sign would
at that moment have been a moral anachronism — as much
as any miracle would be in our days, when the Christ
makes His appeal to the moral, and is met by a demand
for the external and material evidence of His witness.
The interruption of the Pharisees b was thoroughly
Jewish, and so was their objection. It had to be
met, and that in the Jewish form in which it had
been raised, while the Christ must at the same time con
tinue His former teaching to them concerning God and
their own distance from Him. Their objection had pro
ceeded on this fundamental judicial principle — 'A person
is not accredited about himself.' Harsh and unjust as this
principle sometimes was, it evidently applied only in judi
cial cases, and hence implied that these Pharisees sat in
judgment on Him as one suspected, and charged with guilt.
The reply of Jesus was plain. Even if His testimony about
Himself were unsupported, it would still be true, and He
was competent to bear it, for He knew as a matter of fact
whence He came and whither He went — His own part in
this Mission, and its goal, as well as God's — whereas they
knew not either.0 But more than this: their
demand for a witness had proceeded on the as
sumption of their being the judges, and He the panel — a
relation which only arose from their judging after the
flesh. Spiritual judgment upon that which was within
belonged only to Him Who searcheth all secrets. Christ,

Teaching in the Temple 325
while on earth, judged no man ; and, even if He did so, it
must be remembered that He did it not alone, but with,
and as the Representative of, the Father. Hence such
»st John judgment would be true." But as for their
™- 15' 16 main charge, was it either true or good in law ?
In accordance with the Law of God, there were two wit
nesses to the fact of His Mission: His own, and the
frequently-shown attestation of His Father. And, if it
were objected that a man could not bear witness in his own
cause, the same Rabbinic canon laid it down, that this only
applied if his testimony stood alone. But if it were cor
roborated, although by only one male or female slave — who
ordinarily were unfit for testimony — it would be credited.
The reasoning of Christ, without for a moment quitting
the higher ground of His teaching, was quite unanswerable
from the Jewish standpoint. The Pharisees felt it, and,
though well knowing to Whom He referred, tried to evade
it by the sneer — where (not Who) His Father was ? This
gave occasion for Christ to return to the main subject of
His address, that the reason of their ignorance of Him
b was that they knew not the Father, and, in turn,
that only acknowledgment of Him would bring
true knowledge of the Father.b
Such words would only ripen in the hearts of such men
the murderous resolve against Jesus. Yet, not till His
hour had come ! Presently we find Him again, now in
one of the Porches — probably that of Solomon — teaching,
this time, ' the Jews.' We imagine they were chiefly, if
not all, Judseans — perhaps Jerusalemites, aware of the
murderous intent of their leaders — not His own Galileans,
whom He addressed. It was in continuation of what had
gone before — alike of what He had said to them, and of
what they felt towards Him. The words are Christ's fare
well to His rebellious people, His tear-words over lost
Israel ; abrupt also, as if they were torn sentences, or else
headings for special discourses : ' I go My way ' — ' Ye shall
seek Me, and in your sin shall ye die ' — ' Whither I go, ye
cannot come ! ' They thought that He spoke of His dying,
and not, as He did, of that which came after it. But how

326 Jesus the Messiah
could His dying establish such separation between them ?
* st. John This was the next question which rose in their
viii. 22 minds." Would there be anything so peculiar
about His dying, or did His expression about going
indicate a purpose of taking away His Own life ?
It was this misunderstanding which Jesus briefly but
emphatically corrected by telling them, that the ground of
their separation was the difference of their nature : they
were from beneath, He from above ; they of this world,
He not of this world. Hence they could not come where
He would be, since they must die in their sin,
b yy 23 24 .
as He had told them — 'if ye believe not that
Iam.'b The words were intentionally mysteriously spoken, as
to a Jewish audience. Believe not that Thou art ! But
' Who art Thou ? ' Their question condemned themselves.
In His broken sentence, Jesus had tried them— to see how
they would complete it. All this time they had not yet
learned Who He was ; had not even a conviction on that
point either for or against Him, but were ready to be
swayed by their leaders ! ' Who I am ? ' Has My testi
mony by word or deed ever swerved on this point ? I am
what all along, from the beginning, I tell you. Then,
putting aside this interruption, He resumed His
argument." Many other things had He to say
and to judge concerning them, besides the bitter truth of
their perishing if they believed not that it was He — but He
that had sent Him was true, and He must ever speak into the
world the message which He had received. When Christ
referred to it as that which ' He heard from
d Ter. 26
Him,' d He evidently wished thereby to emphasise
the fact of His Mission from God, as constituting His
claim on their obedience of faith. But it was this very
point which, even at that moment, they were not
understanding.6 And they would only learn it,
not by His Words, but by the event, when they had
' ver 28 ' lifted Him up,' as they thought to the Cross, but
really on the way to His Glory .f Then would
they perceive the meaning of the designation He had

Teaching in the Temple 327
given of Himself, and the claim founded on it : a ' Then
» st John shall ye perceive that I am.' Meantime : ' And
Co^mp8 ver. °^ Myself do I nothing, but as the Father taught
24) Me, these things do I speak. And He that sent
Me is with Me. He hath not left Me alone, because what
pleases Him I do always.'
If the Jews failed to understand the expression ' lifting
up,' which might mean His Exaltation, though it did mean
in the first place His Cross, there was that in His appeal to
His Words and Deeds as bearing witness to His Mission and
to the Divine Help and Presence in it, which by its sincerity
and reality found its way to the hearts of many. Instinc
tively they felt and believed that His Mission must be
Divine. Whether or not this found articulate expression,
Jesus now addressed Himself to those who thus far — at least
for the moment — believed on Him. They were at the crisis
of their spiritual history, and He must press home on them
what He had sought to teach at the first. By nature far from
Him, they were bondsmen. Only if they abode in His Word
would they know the truth, and the truth would make
them free. The result of this knowledge would be moral,
and hence that knowledge consisted not in merely believ
ing on Him, but in making His Word and teaching their
b „„,„ dwelling — abiding in it.b But it was this very
moral application which they resisted. In this
also Jesus had used their own forms of thinking and teach
ing, only in a much higher sense. For their own tradition
had it, that he only was free who laboured in the study of
the Law. Yet the liberty of which He spoke came not
through study of the Law, but from abiding in the Word
of Jesus. But they ignored the spiritual, and fell back upon
the national application of the words of Christ. As this
is once more evidential of the Jewish authorship of this
Gospel, so also the characteristically Jewish boast, that as
the children of Abraham they had never been and never
could be in real servitude. It would take too long to
enumerate all the benefits supposed to be derived from
descent from Abraham. Suffice here the almost funda
mental principle : ' All Israel are the children of Kings,'

328 Jesus the Messiah
and its application even to common life, that as ' the chil
dren of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, not even Solomon's
feast could be too good for them.'
Not so, however, would the Lord allow them to pass it
by. He pointed them to another servitude which they
»st John knew not, that of sin, a and, entering at the same
viii. 34 time also on their own ideas, He told them that
continuance in this servitude would also lead to national
bondage and rejection : ' For the servant abideth not in
the house for ever.' On the other hand, the Son abode
there for ever ; whom He made free by adoption into His
Family, they would be free in reality and essentially.b
b Then, for their very dulness, He would turn to
their favourite conceit of being Abraham's seed.
There was,* indeed, an obvious sense in which, by their
natural descent, they were such. But there was a moral
descent — and that alone was of real value. Abraham's
seed ? But they entertained purposes of murder, and
that because the Word of Christ had not free course,
made not way in them. His Word was what he had seen
with (before) the Father, not heard — for His Presence
there was eternal. Their deeds were what they had
heard from their father — the word ' seen ' in our common
text depending on a wrong reading. And thus He showed
them — in answer to their interpellation — that their father
could not have been Abraham, so far as spiritual descent
'w 37-40 was concerned.0 They had now a glimpse of
His meaning, but only to misapply it, accord
ing to their Jewish prejudice. Their spiritual descent,
they urged, must be of God, since their descent from
»ver 41 Abraham was legitimate.11 But the Lord dis
pelled even this conceit by showing that if theirs
were spiritual descent from God, then would they not
reject His Message, nor seek to kill Him, but recognise
• ver. 42 and love Him.0
'w. 43-47 gut whence all this misunderstanding of His
speech ? f Because they were morally incapable of hearing
it — and this because of the sinfulness of their nature : an
element which Judaism had never taken into account.

Teaching in the Temple 329
And so, with infinite wisdom, Christ once more brought
back His Discourse to what He would teach them concern
ing man's need, whether he be Jew or Gentile, of a Saviour
and of renewing by the Holy Ghost. If the Jews were
morally unable to hear His Word and cherished murderous
designs, it was because, morally speaking, their descent
was of the Devil. Very differently from Jewish ideas did
He speak concerning the moral evil of Satan, as both a
murderer and a liar — a murderer from the beginning of
the history of our race, and one who ' stood not in the
truth, because truth is not in him.' Hence ' whenever
he speaketh a lie ' — whether to our first parents, or now
concerning the Christ — ' he speaketh from out his own
(things), for he (Satan) is a liar, and the father of such an
one (who telleth or believeth lies).' Which of them could
convict Him of sin? If therefore He spake truth and
they believed Him not, it was because they were not of
God, but, as He had shown them, of their father, the
Devil. The argument was unanswerable, and there seemed only
one way to turn it aside — a Jewish Tu quoque, an adapta
tion of the ' Physician, heal thyself : ' Do we not say rightly,
that Thou art a Samaritan, and hast a demon ? ' By no strain
of ingenuity is it possible to account for the designation
' Samaritan,' as given by the Jews to Jesus, if it is regarded
as referring to nationality. But in the language which
they spoke, what is rendered into Greek by ' Samaritan,'
while literally meaning such, is almost as often used in
the sense of ' heretic' But it isN also sometimes used as
the equivalent of Ashmedai, the prince of the demons.
If this, therefore, were the term applied by the Jews to
Jesus, it would literally mean, ' Child ofthe Devil.'
This would also explain why Christ only replied to the
charge of having a demon, since the two charges meant
substantially the same : "Thou art a child of the devil and
hast a demon.' In wondrous patience and mercy He
almost passed it by, dwelling rather, for their teaching,
on the fact, that, while they dishonoured Him, He honoured
His Father. He heeded not their charges. His concern

330 Jesus the Messiah
was the glory of His Father ; the vindication of His own
honour would be brought about by the Father — though,
alas ! in judgment on those who were casting such dis-
» st John honour on the Sent of God.a Then He once
viu. so more pressed home the great subject of His
Discourse, that only ' if a man keep ' — both have regard
to, and observe — His ' Word,' ' he shall not gaze at death
[intently behold it] unto eternity ' — for ever shall he not
come within close and terrible gaze of what is really
death, of what became such to Adam in the hour of his
Fall. It was, as repeatedly observed, this death as the con
sequence of the Fall, of which the Jews knew nothing.
And so they once more misunderstood it as of physical
death, and, since Abraham and the prophets had died,
regarded Christ as setting up a claim higher than theirs.b
* 52 63 r^xe Discourse had contained all that He had
wished to bring before them, and their objections
were degenerating into wrangling. It was time to break
it off by a general application. The question, He added,
was not of what He said, but of what God said of Him —
that God, Whom they claimed as theirs, and yet knew
not, but Whom He knew, and Whose Word He ' kept.'
But, as for Abraham — he had ' exulted ' in the thought of
the coming day of the Christ, and, seeing its glory, he
was glad. Even Jewish tradition could scarcely gainsay
this, since there were two parties in the Synagogue of
which one believed that, when that horror of great dark
ness fell on him,0 Abraham had in vision been
shown not only this, but the coming world —
and not only all events in the present ' age,' but also those
in Messianic times. And now theirs was not misunder
standing, but wilful misinterpretation. He had spoken of
Abraham seeing His day; they took it of His seeing
Abraham's day, and challenged its possibility. Whether
or not they intended thus to elicit an avowal of His claim
to eternal duration, and hence to Divinity, it was not time
any longer to forbear the full statement, and, with Divine
emphasis, He' spake the words which 'could not be mis-

Healing of the Man Born Blind 331
taken : ' Verily, verily, I say unto you, before Abraham
was, I AM.'
It was as if they had only waited for* this. Furiously
they rushed from the Porch into the Cour^ of the Gentiles
— with symbolic significance even in this — to pick up
stones, and to cast them at Him. But, once more, His
hour had not yet come, and their rage proved impotent.
Hiding Himself for the moment, as might so easily be
done, in one of the many chambers, passages, or gateways
of the Temple, He presently passed out.
It had been the first plain disclosure and avowal of
His Divinity, and it was ' in the midst of His enemies,'
and when most contempt was cast upon Him. Presently
would that avowal be renewed both in Word and by
Deed ; for ' the end ' of mercy and judgment had not yet
come, but was drawing terribly nigh.

CHAPTER LV.
THE HEALING OF THE MAN BORN BLIND.
(St. John ix.)
After the scene in the Temple described in the last chapter,
and Christ's consequent withdrawal • from His enemies, we
are led £0 infer that no long interval of time elapsed before
the healing of the man born blind. Probably it happened
the day after the events just recorded.
It was the Sabbath, the day after the Octave of the
Feast, and Christ with His disciples was passing — presum
ably when going into the Temple — where this blind beggar
was wont to sit, probably soliciting alms, perhaps in some
such terms as these, which were common at the time :
' Gain merit by me ; ' or ' O tenderhearted, by me gain
merit, to thine own benefit.' But on the Sabbath he
would of course neither ask nor receive alms, though his
presence in the wonted place would secure wider notice,
and perhaps lead to many private gifts. Indeed, the

332 Jesus the Messiah
blind were regarded as specially entitled to charity ; and
the Jerusalem Talmud relates instances of the delicacy
displayed towards-them. As the Master, and His disciples
passed the blind beggar, Jesus ' saw ' him with that look
which they who followed Him knew to be full of meaning.
Yet, so thoroughly Judaised were they by their late con
tact with the Pharisees, that no thought of possible mercy
came to them, only a question addressed to Him expressly
and as ' Rabbi : ' through whose guilt this blindness had
befallen him — through his own, or that of his parents.
Thoroughly Jewish the, question was. Many instances
could be adduced in which one or another sin is said to
have been punished by some immediate stroke, disease, or
even by death ; and we constantly find Rabbis, when
meeting such unfortunate persons, asking them how, or by
what sin this had come to them. But, as this man was
' blind from his birth,' the possibility of some actual sin
before birth would suggest itself, at least as a speculative
question, since the ' evil impulse ' might even then be
called into activity. At the same time, both the Talmud
and the later charge of the Pharisees, ' In sins wast thou
born altogether,' imply that in such cases the alternative
explanation would be considered, that the blindness might
be caused by the sin of his parents. It was a common
Jewish view that the merits or demerits of the parents
would appear in the children. Certain special sins in the
parents would result in specific diseases in their offspring,
and one is mentioned as causing blindness in the children.
But the impression left on our minds is that the disciples
felt not sure as to either of these solutions of the difficulty.
It seemed a mystery, inexplicable on the supposition of
God's infinite goodness, and to which they sought to apply
the common Jewish solution.
Putting aside the clumsy alternative suggested by the
disciples, Jesus told them that it was so in order ' that the
works of God might be made manifest in him.' They
wanted to know the ' why,' He told them the ' in order to,'
of the man's calamity; they wished to understand its
reason as regarded its origin, He told them its reasonable-

Healing of the Man Born Blind 333
ness in regard to the purpose which it and all similar
suffering should serve, since Christ has come, the Healer
of evil — because the Saviour from sin. Thus He trans
ferred the question from intellectual ground to that of the
moral purpose which suffering might serve.
To make this the reality to us, was ' the work of Him '
Who sent, and for which He sent the Christ. And rapidly
now must He work it, for perpetual example, during the
•st. John f"ew" hours still left of His brief working-day."
ix. 4, 5 This figure was not unfamiliar to the Jews, though
it may well be that, by thus emphasising the briefness of
the time, He may also have anticipated any objection to
His healing on the Sabbath.
Once more we notice how in His Deeds, as in His
Words, the Lord adopted the forms known and used by
His contemporaries, while He filled them with quite other
substance. It has already been stated that saliva was
commonly regarded as a remedy for diseases of the eye,
although, of course, not for the removal of blindness.
With this He made clay, which He now used, adding to it
the direction to go and wash in the Pool of Siloam, a term
which literally meant ' sent.' A symbolism this, of Him
Who was the Sent of the Father.
And so, what the Pharisees had sought in vain, was
freely vouchsafed when there was need for it. With perfect
simplicity the man's obedience and healing are recorded.
We judge that his first impulse when healed must have been
to seek for Jesus, naturally, where he had first met Him.
On his way, probably past his own house to tell his parents,
and again on the spot where he had so long sat begging,
all who had known him must have noticed the great change
that had passed over him. So marvellous indeed did it
appear, that while part of the crowd that gathered would,
of course, acknowledge his identity, others would say :
' No, but he is like him ; ' in their suspiciousness looking
for some imposture. For there can be little doubt that on
his way he must have learned more about Jesus than merely
His Name,b and in turn have communicated to his
informants the story of his healing. Similarly,

334 Jesus the Messiah
the formal question now put to him by the Jews was as
much, if not more, a preparatory inquisition than the out
come of a wish to learn the circumstances of his healing.
And so we notice in his answer the cautious desire not to
say anything that could incriminate his Benefactor. He
tells the facts truthfully, plainly ; he accentuates by what
means he had ' recovered,' not received, sight ; but other-
• st. John wise gives no clue by which either to discover
ix. 12 or t0 incriminate Jesus.a
Presently they bring him to the Pharisees, not to take
notice of his healing, but to found on it a charge against
Christ. The ground on which the charge would rest was
plain : the healing involved a manifold breach of the
Sabbath-Law. The first of these was that Jesus had made
clay. Next, it would be a question whether any remedy
might be applied on the holy day. Such could only be
done in diseases of the internal organs (from the throat
downwards), except when danger to life or the loss of an
organ was involved. It was, indeed, declared lawful to
apply, for example, wine to the outside of the eyelid, on the
ground that this might be treated as washing ; but it was
sinful to apply it to the inside of the eye And as regards
saliva, its application to the eye is expressly forbidden, on
the ground that it was evidently intended as a remedy.
There was, therefore, abundant legal ground for a
criminal charge. And, although on the Sabbath the
Sanhedrin would not hold any formal meeting, and even
had there been such, the testimony of one man would not
have sufficed, yet ' the Pharisees ' set. the inquiry regularly
on foot. First, as if not satisfied with the report of those
who had brought the man, they made him repeat it.b The
wondrous fact could neither be denied nor ex
plained. The alternative, therefore, was : whether
their traditional law of Sabbath-observance, or else He
Who had done such miracles, was Divine ? Was Christ not
of God, because He did not keep the Sabbath in their way ?
But then, could an open transgressor of God's Law do
such miracles ? In this dilemma they turned to the simple
man before them. ' Seeing that He opened ' his eyes, what

Healing of the Man Born Blind 335
did he say of Him ? what was the impression left on hi?
»st John is. mind, who had the best opportunity for judg-
17 and ino-pa
following mS-
Terses There is something very peculiar, and, in one
sense, most instructive, as to the general opinion entertained
even by the best disposed who had not yet been taught the
higher truth, in his reply, so simple, so comprehensive in
its sequences, and yet so utterly inadequate by itself : ' He
is a Prophet.' One possibility still remained. After all,
the man might not have been really blind; and they
might, by cross-examining the parents, elicit that about
his original condition which would explain the pretended
cure. But on this most important point, the parents,
with all their fear of the anger of the Pharisees, remained
unshaken. He had been born blind ; but as to the manner
of his cure, they declined to offer any opinion.
For to persons so wretchedly poor as to allow their son
to live by begging, the consequences of being ' un-Syna-
gogued,' or put outside the congregation — which was to be
the punishment of any one who Confessed Jesus as the
Messiah — would have been dreadful. Talmudic writings
speak of two, or rather, we should say, of three, kinds of
' excommunication,' of which the first two were chiefly dis
ciplinary, while the third was the real ' casting out,' ' un-
Synagoguing,' ' cutting off from the oongregation.' The
first and lightest degree was, properly, ' a rebuke,' an in
veighing. Ordinarily, its duration extended over seven
days ; but, if pronounced by the Head of the Sanhedrin,
it lasted for thirty days. In later times, however, it only
rested for one day on the guilty person. Perhaps St. Paul
referred to this ' rebuke ' in the expression which he used
about an offending Elder.b He certainly adopted
the practice in Palestine, when he would not
have an Elder ' rebuked,' although he went far beyond it
when he would have such ' entreated.' Yet another
direction of St. Paul's is evidently derived from these
arrangements ofthe Synagogue, although applied in a far
different spirit. When the Apostle wrote : ' An heretic
after the first and second admonition reject,' there must

336 Jesus the Messiah
have been in his mind the second degree of Jewish excom
munication, called from the verb to thrust, thrust out, cast
out. This lasted for thirty days at the least, although among
the Babylonians only for seven days. At the end of that
term there was ' a second admonition,' which lasted other
thirty days. If still unrepentant, the third, or real ex
communication, was pronounced, which was called the
ban, and of which the duration was indefinite. Hence
forth he was like one dead. He was not allowed to study
with others, no intercourse was to be held with him, he"
was not even to be shown the road. He might, indeed,
» comp. buy the necessaries of life, but it was forbidden
1 Cor. v. 11 to eat or drink with such an one.a
When we remember what such an anathema would
involve to persons in the rank of life, and so poor as the
parents of that blind man, we no longer wonder at their
evasion of the question put by the Sanhedrin. And if we
ask ourselves, on what ground so terrible a punishment
could be inflicted to all time and in every place — for the
ban once pronounced applied everywhere — simply for the
confession of Jesus as the Christ, the answer is not difficult.
The Rabbinists enumerate twenty-four grounds for excom
munication, of which more than one might serve the purpose
of the Pharisees. But in general, to resist the authority of
the Scribes, or any of their decrees, or to lead others either
away from ' the commandments,' or to what was regarded
as profanation of the Divine Name, was sufficient to incur
the ban, while it must be borne in mind that excommuni
cation by the President of the Sanhedrin extended to all
places and persons.
As nothing could be elicited from his parents, the man
who had been blind was once more summoned before the
Pharisees. It was no longer to inquire into the reality of
his alleged blindness, nor to ask about the cure, but simply
to demand of him recantation, though this was put in the
most specious manner. Thou hast been healed : own that
it was only by God's Hand miraculously stretched forth,
and that ' this man ' had nothing to do with it, save that
the coincidence may have been allowed to try the faith of

Healing of the Man Born Blind 337
Israel. It could not have been Jesus Who had done it,
for they knew Him to be ' a sinner.' Of the two alterna
tives they had chosen that of the absolute rightness of
their own Sabbath-traditions as against the evidence of
His Miraclesi Virtually, then, this was the condemnation
of Christ and the apotheosis of traditionalism.
The renewed inquiry as to the manner in which Jesus
had healed him a might have had for its object to betray
» st John tne man i11*0 a positive confession, or to elicit some-
**• 26 thing demoniacal in the mode of the cure. The
blind man had now fully the advantage. He had already
told them. As he put it half ironically : Was it because
they felt the wrongness of their own position, and that they
should become His disciples ? It stung them to the quick ;
they lost all self-possession, and with this their moral
defeat became complete. ' Thou art the disciple of that
Man, but we (according to the favourite phrase) are the
disciples of Moses.' Of the Divine Mission of Moses they
knew, but of the Mission of Jesus they knew
nothing.b The unlettered man had now the full
advantage in the controversy. ' In this, indeed,' there was
' the marvellous,' that the leaders of Israel should confess
themselves ignorant of the authority of One, Who had
power to open the eyes of the blind — a marvel which had
never before been witnessed. If He had that power, whence
had He obtained it, and why ? It could only have been
from God. They said, He was ' a sinner ' — and yet there
was no principle more frequently repeated by the Rabbis,
than that answers to prayer depended on a man being
' devout ' and doing the Will of God. There could there
fore be only one inference : If Jesus had not Divine Autho
rity, He could not have had Divine Power.
The truthful reasoning of that untutored man, which
confounded the acuteness of the sages, shows the effect of
these manifestations on ail whose hearts were open to the
truth. The Pharisees had nothing to answer, and, as not
unfrequently in analogous cases, could only in their fury
cast him out with bitter reproaches. Would he teach
them — he, whose very disease showed him to have been a
z

338 Jesus the Messiah
child conceived and born in sin, and who, ever since his
birth, had been among ignorant, Law-neglecting ' sinners ' ?
But there was Another Who watched and knew him :
He Whom, so far as he knew, he had dared to confess,
and for Whom he was content to suffer. Let him now
have the reward of his faith, even its completion. Ten-
¦ st. John derly did Jesus seek him out,a and, as He found
**• 35 him, this one question did He ask, whether the
conviction of his experience was not growing into the
higher faith of the vet unseen : ' Dost thou believe on the
Son of God ? '
To such a soul it needed only the directing Word of
Christ. ' And Who is He, Lord, that I may believe on
Him ? ' b It seems as if the question of Jesus
had kindled in him the conviction of what was
the right answer. To such readiness there could be only
one answer. In language more plain than He had ever
before used, Jesus answered, and with immediate confession
of implicit faith the man worshipped. And so it was that
the first time he saw his Deliverer, it was to worship Him.
There were those who still followed Him — not convinced
by, nor as yet decided against Him — Pharisees, who well
understood the application of His Words. Formally, it had
been a contest between traditionalism and the Work of
Christ. They also were traditionalists — were they also
blind ? But nay, they had misunderstood Him by leaving
out the moral element, thus showing themselves blind
indeed. It was not the calamity of blindness ; but it was
a blindness in which they were guilty, and for which they
were responsible,0 which indeed was the result of
their deliberate choice : therefore their sin — not
their blindness only — remained.

339

CHAPTER LVI.
THE 'GOOD SHEPHERD.'
(St. John x. 1-21.)
It was in accordance with the character of the Discourse
presently under consideration, that Jesus spake it, not
indeed in Parables in the strict sense (for none such are
recorded in the fourth Gospel), but in an allegory in the
¦st John Parabolic form,a hiding the higher truths from
*• 6 those who having eyes had not seen, but reveal
ing thejn to such whose eyes had been opened. If the
scenes of the last few days had made anything plain, it was
the utter unfitness of the teachers of Israel for their pro
fessed work of feeding the flock of God. The Rabbinists
also called their spiritual leaders ' feeders.' The term com
prised the two ideas of ' leading ' and ' feeding,' which are
separately insisted on in the Lord's allegory. It only re
quired to recall the Old Testament language about the
shepherding of God, and that of evil shepherds, to make
the application to what had so lately happened. They
were, surely, not shepherds, who had cast out the healed
blind man, or who so judged of the Christ, and would cast
out all His disciples. They had entered into God's Sheep-
fold, but not by the door by which the Owner, God, had
brought His flock into the fold. To it the entrance had
been His love, His thoughts of pardoning, His purpose of
saving mercy. Not by that door, as had so lately fully
appeared, had Israel's rulers come in. They had climbed
up to their place in the fold some other way — with the
same right, or by the same wrong, as a thief or a robber.
They had wrongfully taken what did not belong to them — ¦
cunningly and undetected, like a thief; they had allotted
it to themselves, and usurped it by violence, like a robber.
What more accurate description could be given of the
means by which the Pharisees and Sadducees had attained
the rule over God's flock, and claimed it for them
selves ?
How different He, Who conies in and leads us through z 2

340 Jesus the Messiah
God's door of covenant-mercy and Gospel-promise — the
door by which God had brought, and ever brings, His flock
into His fold ! This was the true Shepherd. The allegory
must, of course, not be too closely pressed ; but, as we
remember how in the East the flocks are at night driven
into a large fold, and charge of them is given to an under-
shepherd, we can understand how, when the shepherd
comes in the morning, ' the doorkeeper ' or ' guardian '
opens to him. And when a true spiritual shepherd comes
to the true spiritual door, it is opened to him by the
guardian from within — that is, he finds ready and imme
diate access. Equally pictorial is the progress of the
allegory. Having thus gained access to his flock* it has
not been to steal or rob, but the shepherd knows and calls
them, each by his name, and leads them out. We mark
that in the expression : ' when he has put forth all his
own,' — the word is a strong one. For they have to go
each singly, and perhaps they are not willing to go out
each by himself, or even to leave that fold, and so he
' puts ' or thrusts them forth, and he does so to ' all his
own.' Then the Eastern shepherd places himself at the
head of his flock, and goes before them, guiding them,
making sure of their following simply by his voice, which
they know. So would His flock follow Christ, for they
know His Voice, and in vain would strangers seek to lead
them away, as the Pharisees had tried. It was not the
• st. John known Voice of their own Shepherd, and they
x-4>6 would only flee from it.a
We can scarcely wonder that they who heard it did
not understand the allegory, for they were not of His flock
and knew not His Voice. But His own knew it then, and
tver 7 would know it for ever. ' Therefore,' b both for
the sake of the one and the other, He continued,
now dividing for greater clearness the two leading ideas of
His allegory, and applying each separately for better com
fort. These two ideas were : entrance by the door, and
the characteristics of the good Shepherd — thus affording a
twofold test by which to recognise the true, and distin
guish it from the false.

The 'Good Shepherd' 341
I. The Boor.— Christ was the Door.a All the Old
¦st. John *. Testament institutions, prophecies, and promises,
so far as they referred to access into God's fold,
meant Christ. And all those who went before Him, pre
tending to be the door— whether Pharisees, Sadducees, or
Nationalists — were only thieves and robbers : that was
not the door into the Kingdom of God. And' the sheep,
God's flock, did not hear them ; for although they might
pretend to lead the flock, the voice was that of strangers.
The transition now to another application of the allegorical
idea of the ' door ' was natural and almost necessary,
though it appears somewhat abrupt. Even in this it is
peculiarly Jewish. We must understand this transition
as follows : I am the Door ; those who professed otherwise
to gain access to the fold have climbed in some other way.
But if I am the only, I am also truly the Door. And,
dropping the figure, if any man enters by Me, he shall be
saved, securely go out and in (where the language is not
to be closely pressed), in the sense of having liberty and
finding pasture.
II. This forms also the transition to the second
leading idea of the allegory : the True and Good Shepherd.
Here we mark a fourfold progression of thought, which
reminds us of the poetry of the Book of Psalms. There
the thought expressed in one line or one couplet is carried
forward and developed in the next, forming what are
called the Psalms of Ascent (' of Degrees '). And in the
Discourse of Christ also the final thought of each couplet
of verses is carried forward, or rather leads upward in the
next. Thus we have here a Psalm of Degrees concerning
the Good Shepherd and His Flock, and, at the same time,
a New Testament version of Psalm xxiii. Accordingly its
"liSilylsisTnight be formulated as follows :
1. Christ the Good Shepherd, in contrast to
others who falsely claimed to be the shepherds?'
2. The Good Shepherd Who layeth down His life for
His sheep !
3. For the sheep that are Mine, whom I know, and for
whom I lay down My Life I

342 Jesus the Messiah
4. In the final Step of ' Ascent ' a the leading thoughtfe
» st. John x. of the whole Discourse are taken up and carried
17,18 to the last and highest thought. The Good
Shepherd that brings together the One Flock! Yes — by
laying down His Life, but also by taking it up again.
Both are necessary for the work of the Good Shepherd :
nay, the life is laid down in the surrender of sacrifice, in
order that it may be taken up again, and much more fully,
in the Resurrection-Power. And therefore His Father
loveth Him as the Messiah-Shepherd, Who so fully does
the work committed to Him, and so entirely surrenders
Himself to it.
And all this, in order to be the Shepherd-Saviour — to
die, and rise for His Sheep, and thus to gather them all,
Jews and Gentiles, into one flock, and to be their Shep
herd. This, neither more nor less, was the Mission which
God had given Him ; this, ' the commandment ' which He
had received of His Father — that which God had
given Rim to do.0
It was a noble close of the series of those Discourses
in the Temple, which had it for their object to show that
He was truly sent of God.
And, in a measure, they attained that object. To some,
indeed, it all seemed unintelligible, incoherent, madness ;
and they fell back on the favourite explanation of all this
strange drama — He hath a demon ! But others there
were, not yet His disciples, to whose hearts these words
went straight. ' These utterances are not of a demonised '
— and then it came back to them : ' Can a demon open
the eyes of the blind ? '
And so, once again, the Light of His Words and of
His Person fell upon His Works, and, as ever, revealed
their character, and made them clear.

343

CHAPTER LVII.
DISCOURSE CONCERNING THE TWO KINGDOMS.
(St. Matt. xii. 22-45 ; St. Luke xi. 11-36.)
It was well that Jesus should, for the present, have parted
from Jerusalem with words like these. Even ' the schism '
»st John &£& had come among them3, concerning His
*• 19 Person made it possible not only to continue His
Teaching, but to return to the City once more ere His final
entrance. For His Peraean Ministry, which extended
from after the Feast of Tabernacles to the week preceding
the last Passover, was, so to speak, cut in half by the
,, „. T . brief visit of Jesus _ to Jerusalem at the Feast of
22-39 the Dedication.0 Of these six months we have
° st Luke (with the solitary exception of St. Matthew xii.
xvitii 22 — 45), no other account than that furnished by
* st. John St. Luke,0 although, as usually, the Jerusalem
xi 1-45 ;' and Judsean incidents of it are described by St.
xi-46-64 John.4
It will be noticed that this section is peculiarly lacking
in incident. It consists almost exclusively of Discourses
and Parables, with but few narrative portions interspersed.
And this chiefly from the character of His Ministry in
Persea. We remember that, similarly, the beginning of
Christ's Galilean Ministry had been chiefly marked by
Discourses and Parables. In fact, His Persean was sub
stantially a resumption of His early Galilean Ministry,
only modified and influenced by the much fuller knowledge
of the people concerning Christ, and the greatly developed
enmity of their leaders. Thus, to begin with, we can
understand how He would, at this initial stage of His
Pereean, as in that of His Galilean Ministry, repeat, when
asked for instruction concerning prayer, those sacred
words ever since known as the Lord's Prayer. The varia
tions are so slight as to be easily accounted for by the

344 Jesus the Messiah
individuality of the reporter. They afford, however, the
occasion for remarking on the two principal differences.
In St. Luke the prayer is for the forgiveness of 'sins,'
while St. Matthew uses the Hebraic term ' debts,' which
has passed even into the Jewish Liturgy, denoting our
guilt as indebtedness. Again the ' day by day ' of St. Luke,
which further explains the petition for ' daily bread,' com
mon both to St. Matthew and St. Luke, may be illustrated
by the beautiful Rabbinic teaching, that the Manna fell
only for each day, in order that thought of their daily
dependence might call forth constant faith in our ' Father
Which is in heaven.'
From the introductory expression : ' When (or when
ever) ye pray, say ' — we venture to infer, that this prayer
was intended, not only as the model, but as furnishing the
words for the future use of the Church. Yet another
suggestion may be made. The request, ' Lord, teach us to
» st. Luke Pray> as John also taught his disciples,' a seems
xi- 1 to indicate what was ' the certain place,' which,
now consecrated by our Lord's prayer, became the school
for ours. It seems at least likely, that the allusion of the
disciples to the Baptist may have been prompted by the
circumstance that the locality was that which had been
the scene of John's labours — of course, in Pereea. This
chapter will be devoted to the briefest summary of the
Lord's Discourses in Persea, previous to His return
to Jerusalem for the Feast of the Dedication of the
Temple. The first of these was on the occasion of His casting
»st.Luke out a demon,b and restoring speech to the de-
si- 14 monised ; or if, as seems likely, the cure is the
same as that recorded in St. Matt. xii. 22, both sight and
speech, which had probably been paralysed. This is one
of the cases in which it is difficult to determine whether
narratives in different Gospels, with slightly varying
details, represent different events or only differing modes
of narration. When recording similar events the Evange
lists would naturally tell them in much the same manner.
Hence it does not follow that two similar narratives in

Concerning the Two Kingdoms 345
different Gospels always represent the same event. But
in this instance it seems likely.
It is the Pharisees' charge that He was an instrument
of Satan which forms the main subject of Christ's address,
• st. Mark His language being now much more explicit than
m- 2'2 formerly,0- even as the opposition of the Pharisees
had more fully ripened. The following are the leading
features of Christ's reply : 1st, It was utterly unreason-
b st. Matt. able,b and inconsistent with their own premisses,0
™- 25 showing that their ascription of Satanic agency
¦ w. 27-30 to what Christ did was only prompted by hostility
to His Person. This mode of turning the argument
against the arguer was peculiarly Hebraic, and it does not
imply any assertion on the part of Christ as to whether or
not the disciples of the Pharisees really cast out demons.
Mentally we must supply — according to your own pro
fessions, your disciples cast out demons. If so, by whom
are they doing it ?
But 2ndly, beneath this logical argumentation lies
spiritual instruction, closely connected with the late
teaching during the festive days in Jerusalem. It is
directed against the superstitious and unspiritual views
entertained by Israel alike of the Kingdom of evil and of
that of God. For if we ignore the moral aspect of Satan
and his kingdom, all degenerates into the absurdities and
superstitions of the Jewish view concerning demons and
Satan. On the other hand, introduce the ideas of moral
evil, of the concentration of its power in a kingdom of
which Satan is the representative and ruler, and. of our
own inherent sinfulness, which makes us his subjects — and
all becomes clear. Then, truly, can Satan not cast out
Satan — else .how could his kingdom stand ? Then, also, is
the casting out of Satan only by ' God's Spirit,' or ' Finger : '
aw 25-28 ani^ *nis IS *ke Kingdom of God.d Nay, by their
own admission, the casting out of Satan was part
of the work of Messiah. Then had the Kingdom of God
indeed come to them — for in this was the Kingdom of
God ; and He was the God-sent Messiah, come not for the
glory of Israel, nor for anything outward or intellectual,

346 Jesus the Messiah
but to engage in mortal conflict with moral evil, and with
Satan as its representative. In that contest Christ, as the
Stronger, bindeth ' the strong one,' spoils his house (divideth
his spoil), and takes from him the armour in which his
strength lay ('he trusted') by taking away the power of
»st Matt sin.a This is the work of the Messiah — and,
*"¦ 29 therefore, also, no one can be indifferent towards
Him, because all, being by nature in a certain relation
towards Satan, must, since the Messiah had commenced
His Work, occupy a definite relationship towards
* Ter- 30 the Christ Who combats Satan.b
But it is conceivable that a man may not only try to be
passively, but even be actively on the enemy's side, and
this not by merely speaking against the Christ, which
might be the outcome of ignorance or unbelief, but by re
presenting that as Satanic which was the object of His
Coming.0 Such perversion represents sin in its
« w. 3 , 2 aj-^jute completeness, and for which there can
be no pardon, since the state of mind of which it is the
outcome admits not the possibility of repentance, because
its essence lies in this, to call that Satanic which is the
very object of repentance.
3rdly. Recognition ofthe spiritual, which was the oppo
site of the sin against the Holy Ghost, was, as Christ had
so lately explained in Jerusalem, only to be attained by
spiritual kinship with it.d The tree must be
Ty' ~ made good, if the fruit were to be good ; tree and
fruit would correspond to each other. How then could
these Pharisees ' speak good things,' since the state of the
heart determined speech and action ? Hence, a man would
have to give an account even of every idle word, since
however trifling it might appear to others or to oneself, it
was really the outcome of ' the heart,' and showed the
inner state. And thus, in reality, would a man's future
in judgment be determined by his words ; a conclusion the
more solemn, when we remember its bearing on what His
disciples on the one side, and the Pharisees on the other
said concerning Christ and the Spirit of God.
4thly. Both logically and morally the Words of Christ

Concerning the Two Kingdoms 347
were unanswerable ; and the Pharisees fell back on the old
device of challenging proof of His Divine Mission by some
« st. Matt, visible sign." But this was an attempt to shift
xu'38 the argument from the moral to the physical.
It was the moral that was at fault, or rather, wanting in
them ; and no amount pf physical evidence or demonstration
could have supplied that. Hence, as under previous similar
»st Matt circumstances,11 He would offer them only one
xvi. 1-4 sign, that of Jonas the prophet. But whereas on
the former occasion Christ chiefly referred to Jonas' preach
ing (of repentance), on this He rather pointed to the
allegorical history of Jonas as the Divine attestation of his
Mission. As he appeared in Nineveh, he was himself ' a
« st. Luke sign unto the Ninevites ; ' ° the fact that he had
"• s0 been three days and nights in the whale's belly,
and that thence he had, so to speak, been sent forth alive
to preach in Nineveh, was evidence to them that he had
been sent of God. And so would it be again. After three
days and three nights ' in the heart of the earth ' — which
is a Hebraism for ' in the earth ' — would His Resurrection
Divinely attest to this generation His Mission. The
Ninevites did not question, but received this attestation of
Jonas ; nay, an authentic report of the wisdom of Solomon
had been sufficient to bring the Queen of Sheba from so
far ; in the one case it was because they felt their sin ; in
the other, because she felt need and longing for better
wisdom than she possessed. ' But these were the very
elements wanting in the men of this generation ; and so
both Nineveh and the Queen of Sheba would stand up,
not only as mute witnesses against, but to condemn, them.
For, the great Reality of which the preaching of Jonas had
been only the type, and for which the wisdom of Solomon
a st. Matt had been only the preparation, had been presented
xii. 39-42 to them in Christ.3
5thly. And so, having put aside this cavil, Jesus returned
to His former teaching e concerning the Kingdom
of Satan and the power of evil. Here, also, it
must be remembered that, as the words used by our Lord
were allegorical and illustrative, they must not be too

348 Jesus the Messiah
closely pressed. As compared with the other nations of
the world, Israel was like a house from which the demon
of idolatry had gone out with all his attendants — really
the ' Beel-Zibbul ' whom they dreaded. And then the
house had been swept of all the foulness and uncleanness
of idolatry, and garnished with all manner of Pharisaic
adornments. Yet all this while it was left really empty ;
God was not there ; the Stronger One, Who alone could
have resisted the Strong One, held not rule in it. And so
the demon returned to it again, to find the house whence he
had come out, swept and garnished indeed — but also empty
and defenceless. The folly of Israel lay in this, that they
thought of only one demon — him of idolatry — Beel-Zibbul,
with all his foulness. So, to continue the illustrative
language of Christ, Satan came back ' with seven other
spirits more wicked than himself — pride, self-righteousness,
unbelief, and the like, the number seven being general—
and thus the last state — Israel without the foulness of gross
idolatry, and garnished with all the adornments of Pharisaic
devotion to the study and practice of the Law — was really
worse than had been the first with all its open repulsive-
ness. 6thly. Once more was the Discourse interrupted, this
time by a truly Jewish incident. A woman in the crowd
burst into exclamations about the blessedness of the Mother
» st. Luke who had borne and nurtured such a Son.a The
n. 27 phraseology seems to have been not uncommon,
since it is equally applied by the Rabbis to Moses, and even
to a great Rabbi.
And yet such praise must have been peculiarly unwel
come to Christ, as being the exaltation of only His Human
Personal excellence, intellectual or moral. It quite looked
away from that which He would present : His Work and
Mission as the Saviour. This praise of the Christ through
His Virgin-Mother was as unacceptable and unsuitable as
the depreciation of the Christ, which really, though un
consciously, underlay the loving care of the Virgin-Mother
when she would have arrested Him in His Work, and
which (perhaps for this very reason) St. Matthew relates in

Concerning the Two Kingdoms 349
the same connection." Accordingly, the answer in both
» st. Matt cases is substantially the same : to point away
xu. 46, 47 from His merely Human Personality to His Work
and Mission — in the one case : ' Whosoever shall do the
Will of My Father Which is in heaven, the same is My
brother, and sister, and mother ; ' in the other : ' Yea
rather, blessed are they that hear the Word of God and
keep it.'
7thly . And now the Discourse draws to a close b by a fresh
» st. Luke application of what, in some other form or con-
xi. 33-36 nection, Christ had taught at the outset of His
«st.Matt.v. public Ministry in the ' Sermon on the Mount.'0
i5;vi.22,23 Rightly to understand its present connection,
we must pass over the various interruptions of Christ's
Discourse, and join this as the conclusion to the previous
part, which contained the main subject. This was, that
spiritual knowledge presupposed spiritual kinship. As
here put, it is that spiritual receptiveness is ever the con
dition of spiritual reception. What was the object of
lighting a lamp ? Surely, that it may give light. But if
so, no one would put it into a vault, or under the bushel,
but on the stand. Should we then expect that God would
light the spiritual lamp, if it be put in a dark vault ? Or, to
take an illustration of it from the eye, which, as regards
the body, serves the same purpose as the lamp in a house.
Does it not depend On the state of the eye whether or not
we have the sensation, enjoyment, and benefit of the light ?
Let us therefore take care, lest by placing, as it were, the
lamp in a vault, the light in us be really only darkness.1
On the other hand, if by means of a good eye the light is
transmitted through the whole system, then shall we be
wholly full of light. And this, finally, explains the recep
tion or rejection of Christ : how, in the words of an Apostle,
the same Gospel would be both a savour of life unto life,
and of death unto death.
1 In some measure like the demon who returned to find his house
empty, swept, and garnished.

350 Jesus the Messiah

CHAPTER LVIII.
THE MORNING-MEAL IN THE PHARISEE'S HOUSE.
(St. Luke xi. 37-54.)
Bitter as was the enmity of the Pharisaic party against
Jesus, it had not yet so far spread, nor become so avowed,
as in every place to supersede the ordinary rules of courtesy.
It is thus that we explain that invitation of a Pharisee to
the morning-meal, which furnished the occasion for the
second recorded Perasan Discourse of Christ. It is the
last address to the Pharisees recorded in the Gospel of
St. Luke. A similar last appeal is recorded in a much
•st Matt later portion of St. Matthew's Gospel,"- only
xxiii. that St. Luke reports that spoken in Perasa,
St. Matthew that made in Jerusalem. This may also
partly account for the similarity of language in the two
Discourses. What makes it almost certain that some time must
have elapsed between this and the previous Discourse (or
rather that, as we believe, the two events happened in
different places), is, that the invitation of the Pharisee was
to the ' morning-meal.' We know that this took place
early, immediately after the return from morning-prayers
in the Synagogue. It is, therefore, scarcely conceivable
that all that is recorded in connection with the first Dis
course should have occurred before this first meal. On the
other hand, it may well have been, that what passed at the
Pharisee's table may have some connection with something
that had occurred just before in the Synagogue, for we
conjecture that it was the Sabbath-day. We infer this
from the circumstance that the invitation was not to the
principal meal, which on a Sabbath ' the Lawyers ' (and,
indeed, all householders) would, at least ordinarily, have in
their own homes. We can picture to ourselves the scene.
The week-day family-meal was simple enough, whether
breakfast or dinner — the latter towards evening, although

Meals among the Jews 351
sometimes also in the middle of the day, but always before
actual darkness, in order, as it was expressed, that the
sight of the dishes by daylight might excite the appetite.
The Babylonian Jews were content to make a meal with
out meat ; not so the Palestinians. With the latter the
favourite food was young meat : goats, lambs, calves. Beef
was not so often used, and still more rarely fowls. Bread
was regarded as the mainstay of life, without which no
entertainment was considered as a meal. Indeed, in a sense
it constituted the meal. For the blessing was spoken over
the bread, and this was supposed to cover all the rest of the
food that followed, such as the meat, fish, or vegetables — in
short, all that made up the dinner, but not the dessert.
Similarly, the blessing spoken over the wine included all
other kinds of drink. Otherwise it would have been neces
sary to pronounce a separate benediction over each different
article eaten or drunk. He who neglected the prescribed
benedictions was regarded as if he had eaten of
things dedicated to God, since it was written :
' The earth is the Lord's and the fulness thereof.' a
Let us suppose the guests assembled. To such a morn
ing-meal they would not be summoned by slaves, nor be
received in such solemn state as at feasts. First, each
would observe, as a religious rite, ' the washing of hands.'
Next, the head of the house would cut a piece from the
whole loaf — on the Sabbath there were two loaves — and
speak the blessing. But this only if the company reclined
at table, as at dinner. If they sat, as probably always at the
early meal, each would speak the benediction for himself.
The same rule applied in regard to the wine.
At the entertainment of this Pharisee, as indeed gene
rally, our Lord omitted the prescribed ' washing of hands '
before the meal. But as this rite was in itself indifferent,
He must have had some definite object, which will be ex
plained in the sequel.
In regard to the position of the guests, we know that
the uppermost seats were occupied by the Rabbis. The
Talmud formulates it in this manner : That the worthiest
lies down first, on his left side, with his feet stretching

352 Jesus the Messiah
back. If there are two ' cushions ' (divans), the next
worthiest reclines above him, at his left hand ; if there are
three cushions, the third worthiest lies below him who had
lain down first (at his right), so that the chief person is in
the middle (between the worthiest guest at his left and the
less worthy one at his right hand). The water before
eating is first handed to the worthiest, and so in regard to
the washing after meat. But if a large number are present,
you begin after dinner with the least worthy, till you come
to the last five, when the worthiest in the company washes
his hands, and the other four after him. The guests being
thus arranged, the head of the house, or the chief person at
table, speaks the blessing, and then cuts the bread. Then,
generally, the bread was dipped into salt, or something
salted, etiquette demanding that where there were two
they should wait one ror the other, but not where there
were three or more.
The wine was mixed with water, and, indeed, some
thought that the benediction should not be pronounced till
the water had been added to the wine. Various vintages
are mentioned : among them a red wine of Saron, and a
black wine. Spiced wine was made with honey and pepper.
.,, .. , Another mixture, chiefly used for invalids, con-
• Mentioned . ' J J
in st Mark sisted of old wine, water, and balsam ; yet another
was ' wine of myrrh.' a Palm wine was also in
use, and foreign drinks.
As regards the various kinds of grain, meat, fish, and
fruits used by the Jews, either in their natural state or
preserved, almost everything known to the ancient world
was embraced. At feasts there was an introductory course,
followed by the dinner itself, which finished with dessert,
consisting of pickled olives, radishes and lettuce, and fruits,
among which even preserved ginger from India is men
tioned. Fish was a favourite dish, and never wanting at a
Sabbath-meal. It was a saying, that both salt and water
should be used at every meal, if health was to be preserved.
Very different were the meals of the poor — locusts, eggs,
or a soup made of vegetables : the poorer still would satisfy
their hunger with bread and cheese or bread and fruit.

Meals among the Jews 353
At meals the rules of etiquette were strictly observed,
especially as regarded the sages. According to some, it
was not good breeding to speak while eating. The learned
and most honoured occupied not only the chief places, but
were sometimes distinguished by a double portion. Ac
cording to Jewish etiquette, a guest should conform in
everything to his host, even though it were unpleasant.
Although hospitality was the greatest and most prized
social virtue, which, to use a Rabbinic expression, might
make every home a sanctuary and every table an altar, an
unbidden guest, or a guest who brought another guest, was
proverbially an unwelcome apparition. Sometimes, by way
of self-righteousness, the poor were brought in, and the
best part ofthe meal ostentatiously given to them.1 After
dinner, the formalities concerning handwashing and prayer
already described were gone through, and then frequently
aromatic spices burnt, over which a special benediction
was pronounced. We have only to add, that on Sabbaths
it was deemed a religious duty to have three meals, and to
procure the best that money could obtain, even though one
were to save and fast for it all the week. Lastly, it was
regarded as a special obligation and honour to entertain
sages. We have no difficulty now in understanding what
passed at the table of the Pharisee. When the water for
purification was presented to Him, Jesus would either
refuse it ; or if, as seems more likely at a morning-meal,
each guest repaired by himself for the prescribed purifica
tion, He would omit to do so, and sit down to meat without
this formality. No one who knows the" stress which
Pharisaism laid on this rite would argue that Jesus might
have conformed to -the practice. Indeed, the controversy
was long and bitter between the Schools of Shammai and
Hillel on such a point as whether the hands were to be
washed before the cup was filled with wine, or after that,
and where the towel was to be deposited. A religion
which spent its energy on such trivialities must have
lowered the moral tone. All the more that Jesus insisted
'¦ For fuller details see ' Life and Times, &c.,' vol. ii. p. 209.
& A

354 Jesus the Messiah
so earnestly, as the substance of His teaching, on that
corruption of our nature which Judaism ignored, and on
that spiritual purification which was needful for the recep
tion of His doctrine, would He publicly and openly set
aside ordinances of man which diverted thoughts of purity
into questions of the most childish character. On the
other hand, we can also understand what bitter thoughts
must have filled the mind of the Pharisee, whose guest
Jesus was, when he observed His neglect of the cherished
rite. It was an insult to himself, a defiance of Jewish
Law, a revolt against the most cherished traditions of the
Synagogue. Remembering that a Pharisee ought not to
sit down to a meal with such, he might even feel that he
should not have asked Jesus to his table.
What our Lord said on that occasion will be considered
in detail in another place. Suffice it here to mark that
He first exposed the mere externalism of the Pharisaic law
of purification, to the utter ignoring of the higher need of
• st Lute inward purity, which lay at the foundation of all.a
xi-39 If the primary origin of the ordinance was to
prevent the eating of sacred offerings in defilement, were
these outward offerings not a symbol of the inward sacri
fice, and was there not an inward defilement as well as the
•> -r 40 outward ? b To consecrate what we had to God
in His poor, instead of selfishly enjoying it, would
not, indeed, be a purification of them (for such was not
needed), but it would, in the truest sense, be to eat God's
offerings in cleanness.0 We mark here a oro-
c ver. 41 " 1 ir
gress and a development as compared with the
former occasion when Jesus had publicly spoken on the
a st. Matt same subject."1 Formerly He had treated the
xv. 1-9 ordinance of the Elders as a matter not binding ;
now He showed how this externalism militated against
thoughts of the internal and spiritual. Formerly He had
shown how traditionalism came into conflict with the
written Law of God ; now, how it superseded the first
principles which underlay that Law. Formerly He had
° st. Matt ^id down the principle that defilement came not
xt. 10, u from without inwards but from within outwards ; e

Morning-Meal in the Pharisee's House 355
now He unfolded this highest principle that higher conse
cration imparted purity.
The same principle, indeed, would apply to other things,
such as to the Rabbinic law of tithing. At the same time
it may have been, as already suggested, that something
which had previously taken place, or was the subject of
conversation at table, had given occasion for the further
¦ st. Luke remarks of Christ. a Thus, the Pharisee may
xl- ** have wished to convey his rebuke of Christ by
referrmg to the subject of tithing. And such covert mode
of rebuking was very common among the Jews. It was
regarded as utterly defiling to eat of that which had not
been tithed. Indeed, the three distinctions of a Pharisee
were : not to make use nor to partake of anything that
had not been tithed ; to observe the laws of purification ;
and, as a consequence of these two, to abstain from familiar
intercourse with all non-Pharisees. This separation formed
the ground of their claim to distinction.b It will
be noticed that it is exactly to these three things
our Lord adverts : so that these sayings of His are not,
as might seem, unconnected, but in the strictest internal
relationship. Our Lord shows how Pharisaism, as regarded
the outer, was connected with the opposite tendency as re
garded the inner man : outward purification with ignorance
of the need of that inward purity, which consisted in
God-consecration, and with the neglect of it ; strictness of
outward tithing with ignorance and neglect of the principle
which underlay it, viz. the acknowledgment of God's right
over mind and heart (judgment and the love of God) ;
while, lastly, the Pharisaic pretence of separation, and
consequent claim to distinction, issued only in pride and
self-assertion. Thus, tried by its own tests, Pharisaism
failed. It was hypocrisy, although that word was not
« st Luke mentioned till afterwards ; ° and that both nega-
xU- x tively and positively : the concealment of what
it was, and the pretension to what it was not. And the
Pharisaism which pretended to the highest purity was
really the greatest impurity — the defilement of graves,
only covered up not to be seen of men ! A a 2

356 Jesus the Messiah
It was at this point that one of ' the Scribes ' at table
broke in. Remembering in what .contempt some of the
learned held the ignorant bigotry of the Pharisees, we can
understand that he might have listened with secret enjoy
ment to denunciations of their ' folly.' As the common
saying had it, ' the silly pietist,' ' a woman Pharisee,' and
the (self-inflicted) ' blows of Pharisaism,' were among the
plagues of life. But, as the Scribe rightly remarked, by
attacking, not merely their practice but their principles,
the whole system of traditionalism, which they represented,
» st. Luke was condemned."- And so the Lord assuredly
xi.45 meant it. The 'Scribes' were the exponents
of the traditional law : those who bound and loosed in
Israel. They did bind on heavy burdens, but they never
loosed one ; all these grievous burdens of traditionalism
they laid on the poor people, but not the slightest effort
¦ did they make to remove any of them.b Tradi
tion, the ordinances that had come down — they
would not reform nor put aside anything, but claim and
proclaim all that had come down from the fathers as a
sacred inheritance to which they clung. So be it ! let
them be judged by their own words. The fathers had
murdered the prophets, and they built their sepulchres ;
that also was a tradition — that of guilt which would be
avenged. Tradition, learning, exclusiveness — alas ! it was
only taking away from the poor the key of knowledge ;
and while they themselves entered not by ' the door ' into
the Kingdom, they hindered those who would have gone
in. And truly so did they prove that theirs was the in
heritance, the ' tradition,' of guilt in hindering
o tv. 47-52 ' . ' o o
and banishing the Divine teaching of old, and
murdering its Divine messengers.0
There was terrible truth and solemnity in what Jesus
spake, and in the Woe which He denounced on them.
But after such denunciations, the entertainment in the
Pharisee's house must have been broken up. With
what feelings they parted from Him appears from the
sequel. ' And when He was come out from thence, the Scribes

To the Disciples 357
and the Pharisees began to press upon Him vehemently,
and to provoke Him to speak of many things ; laying wait
for Him, to catch something out of His Mouth.'

CHAPTER LIX.

TO THE DISCIPLES — TWO EVENTS AND THEIR MORAL.
(St. Luke xii. 1-xiii. 17.)
The record of Christ's last warning to the Pharisees, and
of the feelings of murderous hate which it called forth, is
followed by a summary of Christ's teaching to His disciples.
The tone is still that of warning, but entirely different
from that to the Pharisees. It is a warning of sin that
threatened, not ofjudgment that awaited; it was for pre
vention, not in denunciation. The same teaching, because
prompted by the same causes, had been mostly delivered
also on other occasions. Yet there are notable, though
seemingly slight, divergences, accounted for by the differ
ence of the writers or of the circumstances, and which
mark the independence of the narratives.
1 . The first of these Discourses a naturally connects
• st. Lute itself with what had passed at the Pharisee's
3di- 1~12 table, an account of which must soon have spread.
Although the Lord is reported as having addressed the
same language chiefly to the Twelve when sending them
on their first Mission,b we mark characteristic
' a ,x' variations. The address — or probably only its
summary — is introduced by the following notice of the
circumstances : ' In the mean time, when the many thou
sands of the people were gathered together, so that they
trode upon each other, He began to say to His disciples :
" First [above all], beware of the leaven of the Pharisees,
which is hypocrisy." ' There is no need to point out the
connection between this warning and the denunciation
of Pharisaism and traditionalism at the Pharisee's table.
Although the word ' hypocrisy ' had not been spoken
there, it was the sum and substance of His contention

358 Jesus the Messiah
that Pharisaism, while pretending to what it was not,
concealed what it was. And it was this which, like ' leaven,'
pervaded the whole system of Pharisaism. Not that as in
dividuals they were all hypocrites, but that the system was
hypocrisy. And here it is characteristic of Pharisaism,
that Rabbinic Hebrew has not even a word equivalent
to the term ' hypocrisy.' The only expression used refers
either to flattery of, or pretence before men, not to that
unconscious hypocrisy towards God which our Lord so
truly describes as ' the leaven ' that pervaded all the Phari
sees said and did.
After all, hypocrisy was only self-deception.* ' But
¦ st. Luke there is nothing covered that shall not be re-
*"¦ 2- vealed.' Hence, what they had said in the dark
ness would be revealed, and what they had spoken about
in the store-rooms would be proclaimed on the housetops.
. Nor should fear influence them.b Man could
b ver. 4 only kill the body, but God held body and soul.
And as fear was foolish, so was it needless in view of that
Providence which watched over even the meanest of God's
creatures.0 Rather let them, in the impending
O yy 6 7 ¦
struggle with the powers of this world, rise to
consciousness of its full import. And this contest was not
only opposition to Christ, but, in its inmost essence, blas
phemy against the Holy Ghost. Therefore, to succumb
d implied the deepest spiritual danger.3 Nay, but
let them not be apprehensive ; their acknowledg
ment would be not only in the future. Even now, in the
hour of their danger, would the Holy Ghost help them,
and give them an answer before their accusers and judges,
whoever they might be — Jews or Gentiles. Thus, if they
fell victims, it would be with the knowledge — not by neglect
— of their Father ; in their own hearts, before the Angels,
., ,„ before men, would He give testimony for those
0 w. 11, 12 , TT. o J
who were His witnesses.6
2. The second Discourse recorded in this connection
was occasioned by a request for judicial interposition on
'w 16-21 *^e Part °*" Christ. This He answered by a
Parable/ which will be explained in conjunction

To the Disciples 359
with the other Parables of that period. The outcome of
this Parable, as to the uncertainty of this life, and the
consequent folly of being so careful for this world while
neglectful of God, led Him to make warning application
• st. Luke to His Perasan disciples." Only here the nega-
tive injunction that preceded the Parable, 'be
ware of covetousness,' is, when addressed to ' the disciples,'
carried back to its positive underlying principle : to dismiss
all anxiety, even for the necessaries of life, learning from
the birds and the flowers to have absolute faith and trust
in God, and to labour for only one thing — the Kingdom
of God. But even in this they were not to be careful,
d Ter. 32 but to have absolute faith and trust in their
Father, ' Who was well pleased to give ' them
'the Kingdom.' b
With but slight variations the Lord had used the same
language, even as the same admonition had been needed,
at the beginning of His Galilean Ministry, in the Sermon
« st Matt on the Mount.0 Perhaps we may here also
w. 25-33 regard the allusion to the springing flowers as a
mark of time. Only, whereas in Galilee this would mark
the beginning of spring, it would, in the more favoured
climate of certain parts of Perasa, indicate the beginning
of December, about the time of the Feast of the Dedication
of the Temple. More important, perhaps, is it to note,
a st. Luke that the expression d rendered in the Authorised
and Revised Versions, ' neither be ye of doubtful
mind,' really means, ' neither be ye uplifted,' in the sense
• comp. ' of not aiming, or seeking after great things.0
jer. xiv. 5 r£^Q con^ex^ j^re ghows that the term must refer
to the disciples coveting great things, since only to this
the remark could apply, that the Gentile world sought
such things, but that our Father knew what was really
needful for us. Of deep importance is the final consola
tion, to dismiss all care and anxiety, since the Father was
pleased to give to this ' little flock ' the Kingdom. The ex
pression ' flock ' carries us back to the language which Jesus
had held ere parting from Jerusalem.* Hence-
st „o x. f^k ^s designation would mark His people.

360 Jesus the Messiah
These admonitions, alike as against covetousness, and
as to absolute trust and a self-surrender to God, which
would count all loss for the Kingdom, are finally set forth,
alike in their present application and their ultimate and
permanent principle, in what we regard as the concluding
»st Luke Part °f this Discourse. a Its first sentence, ' Sell
xii. 33, 34 that y6 have; and give alms,' which is only re
corded by St. Luke, indicates not a general principle, but
its application to that particular period, when the faithful
disciple required to follow the Lord unencumbered by
fcomp worldly cares or possessions.b The general
st Matt. principle underlying it is that expressed by
°i cor. vii. St. Paul,0 and finally resolves itself into this:
that the Christian should have as not holding,
and use what he has not for self nor sin, but for necessity.
3. Closely connected with, and yet quite distinct from
the previous Discourse, is that about the waiting attitude
of the disciples in regard to their Master. The Discourse
itself consists of three parts and a practical application.
(1) The Disciples as Servants in the absence of their
... . , Master : d their duty and their reward* This
d St. Luke . . •> -,-,¦, -ic- -i
xii. part, containing what would be so needful to
these Perasan disciples, is peculiar to St. Luke.
The Master is supposed to' be absent, at a wedding, so
that the exact time of his return could not be known to
the servants who waited at home. In these circumstances,
they should hold themselves in readiness, that, whatever
hour it might be, they should be able to open the door at
the first knocking. Such eagerness and devotion of service
would naturally meet its reward, and the Master would, in
turn, consult the comfort of those who had not allowed
themselves their evening-meal, nor lain down, but watched
for him. Hungry and weary as they were from their
zeal for him, he would now, in turn, minister to their
personal comfort. And this applied to servants who so
watched — it mattered not how long, whether into the
second or the third of the watches into which the night
was divided.
The ' Parable ' now passes into another aspect of the

To the Disciples 361
case, which is again referred to in the last Discourses of
•st. Matt Christ. a Conversely — suppose the other case,
xxiv. 43, 44 0f people sleeping : the house might be broken
into. If one had known the hour when the thief would
come, sleep would not have been indulged in ; but it is
just this uncertainty and suddenness which should keep
the people in the house ever on their watch till Christ
ostLuke came.b
xii 39, 40 it was a£ fjjjg particular point that a question
of Peter interrupted the Discourse of Christ. To whom
did this ' Parable ' apply about ' the good man ' and ' the
servants ' who were to watch : to the Apostles, or also to
all ? We can understand how Peter might entertain the
Jewish notion, that the Apostles would come with the
Master from the marriage-supper, rather than wait for His
return and work while waiting. It is to this that the
reply of Christ refers. If the Apostles or others are rulers,
it is as stewards, and their reward of faithful and wise
stewardship will be advance to higher administration.
But as stewards they are servants — servants of Christ, and
ministering servants in regard to the other and general
servants. What becomes them in this twofold capacity
is faithfulness to the absent yet ever near Lord, and to
their work, avoiding on the one hand the masterfulness
of pride and of harshness, and on the other the self-
degradation of conformity to evil manners, either of which
would entail sudden and condign punishment in the sudden
and righteous reckoning at His appearing. The ' Parable,'
therefore, alike as to the waiting and the reckoning,
applied to work for Christ, as well as to personal relation
ship towards Him.
In this Peraean Discourse, as reported by St. Luke,0
* st. Luke there now follows what must be regarded, not
xii. 42-46; indeed as a further answer to Peter's inquiry,
comp. 1 •/ j
st. Matt but as referring to the question of the relation
between special work and general discipleship
which had been raised. For, in one sense, all disciples
are servants, not only to wait, but to work. As regarded
those who, like the professed stewards or labourers, knew

362 Jesus the Messiah
their work, but neither ' made ready,' nor did according
to His Will, their punishment and loss (where the illus
trative figure of ' many ' and ' few stripes ' must not be too
closely pressed) would naturally be greater than that of
them who knew not — though this also involves guilt —
that their Lord had any will towards them, that is, any
«st. Luke work for them.3-
xii. 47, 48 (2) In the absence of their Master ! A period
this of work, as well as of waiting; a period of trial
also.b Here also the two opening verses, in
w' ~ their connection with the subject-matter under
the first head of this Discourse, but especially with the
closing sentences about work for the Master, are peculiar
to St. Luke's narrative. The Church had a work to do in
His absence — the work for which He had come. He
* came to cast fire on earth ' — that fire which was kindled
when the Risen Saviour sent the Holy Ghost, and of which
the tongues of fire were the symbol. That fire must they
spread : this was the work in which, as disciples, each one
« 49 so miist take part.0 Again, in that Baptismal
Agony of His they also must be prepared to
share. It was fire : burning up, as well as purifying and
giving light. And here it was in place to repeat to His
Perasan disciples the prediction already addressed to the
a st. Matt. x. Twelve when going on their Mission,3 as to
34^36 the certain and necessary trials connected with
carrying ' the fire ' which Christ had cast on earth, even
to the burning up of the closest bonds of association and
«st Luke kinship.e
xii. '51-53 (3) Thus far the disciples. And now for its
application to ' the multitudes.' f Let them not
think that all this only concerned the disciples. Were
they so blinded as not ' to know how to interpret the
e ver. 56 time ' g — they who had no difficulty in interpret-
>¦ ver. 57 jng jfc wnen a clou(j rose from the sea, or the
sirocco blew from the south ? h Why then did they not
of themselves judge what was fitting and necessary, in
view of the gathering tempest ?
What was it ? Even what He had told them before in

Two Events and their Moral 363
Galilee,a for the circumstances were the same. What
« st. Matt, common sense and common prudence would
v. 25, 26 dictate to every one whom his accuser or creditor
haled before the magistrate : to come to an agreement
with him before it was too late, before sentence had been
t st. Luke pronounced and executed.b Although the illus-
xii. 58, 59 tration must not be pressed, its general meaning
would be the more readily understood that there was a
similar Rabbinic proverb, although with very different
practical application.
4. Besides these Discourses, two events are recorded
before Christ's departure to the ' Feast of the Dedication.'
Each of these led to a brief Discourse, ending in a
Parable. The first records two circumstances not mentioned by
the Jewish historian Josephus, nor in any other historical
notice of the time, either by Rabbinic or other writers.
It appears that then, or soon afterwards, some persons
told Christ about a number of His own Galileans, whom
Pilate had ordered to be cut down, as we infer, in the Tem-
« st. Lute pie, while engaged in offering their sacrifices ; °
xiiL1"5 so that, in the pictorial language of the East,
their blood had mingled with that of their sacrifices.
Clearly, their narration of this event must be connected
with the preceding Discourse of Jesus. He had asked
them whether they could not discern the signs of the
terrible national storm that was nearing. And it was in
reference to this, as we judge, that they repeated this story.
To understand their obfect, we must attend to the answer
of Christ. It is intended to refute the idea, that these
Galileans had in this been visited by a special punishment
of some special sin against God.
Very probably these Galileans were thus murdered
because of their real or suspected connection with the
Nationalist movement, of which Galilee was the focus.
It is as if these Jews had said to Jesus : Yes, signs of the
times and of the coming storm ! These Galileans of yours,
your own countrymen, involved in a kind of Pseudo-
Messianic movement, a kind of ' signs of the times ' rising,

364 Jesus the Messiah
something like that towards which you want us to look — ¦
was not their death a condign punishment ? This latter
inference they did not express in words, but implied in
their narration of the fact. But the Lord read their
thoughts and refuted their reasoning. For this purpose
* st. Luke He adduced another instance,* when a tower at
xiii- 4 the Siloam-Pool had fallen on eighteen persons
and killed them, perhaps in connection with that con
struction of an aqueduct into Jerusalem by Pilate, which
called forth on the part of the Jews the violent opposition
which the Roman so terribly avenged. As good Jews
they would probably think that the fall of the tower,
which had buried in its ruins these eighteen persons
who were perhaps engaged in the building of that cursed
structure, was ajust judgment of God! For Pilate had
used for it the sacred money which had been devoted to
Temple-purposes, and many there were who perished in
the tumult caused by the Jewish resistance to this act of
profanation. But Christ argued that it was as wrong to
infer that Divine judgment had overtaken His Galilean
countrymen, as it would be to judge that the Tower of
Siloam had fallen to punish these Jerusalemites. Not
one party only, nor another ; not the supposed Messianic
tendency (in the shape of a national rising), nor, on the
other hand, the opposite direction of absolute submission
to Roman domination, was in fault. The whole nation
was guilty ; and the coming storm, to the signs of which
He had pointed, would destroy all, unless there were
spiritual repentance on the part of the nation.
Having thus answered the implied objection, the Lord
Dtt6_9 next showed, in the Parable ofthe Fig-tree,b the
need and urgency of national repentance.
The second event recorded by St. Luke in this connec-
» w. 10-17 tion ° recalls the incidents of the early Judasan d
« st. John and of the Galilean Ministry .e In Jerusalem there
T-16 is neither reasoning nor rebuke on the part of
xa M3tt- the Jews, but absolute persecution. There also
»st John the Lord enters on the higher exposition of His
v. 16, 17 &o. actions, motives, and Mission/ In Galilee there

The Woman with a ' Spirit of Infirmity' 365
is questioning, and cunning intrigue against Him on the
part of the Judasans who dogged His steps. But while no
violence can be attempted against Him, the people do not
¦st. Matt venture openly to take His part.a But in Peraea
xu- 1_21 we are confronted by the clumsy zeal of a country-
Archisynagqgos (Chief Ruler of a Synagogue), who is
very angry, but not very wise ; who admits Christ's healing
power, and does not dare to attack Him directly, but in
stead rebukes, not Christ, not even the woman who had
been healed, but the people who witnessed it, at the same
time telling them to come for healing on other days, not
perceiving, in his narrow-minded bigotry, what this
admission implied.
Little more requires to be added about this incident in
'one of the Synagogues' of Persea. Let us only briefly
recall the scene. Among those present in this Synagogue
had been a poor woman, who for eighteen years had been
a sufferer, as we learn, through demoniac agency. In fact,
she was, both physically and morally, not sick, but sickly,
and most truly was hers ' a spirit of infirmity,' so that ' she
was bowed together, and could in no wise lift herself up.'
For we mark that hers was not demoniac possession at all
— and yet, though she "had not yielded, she had not effec
tually resisted, and so she was ' bound by ' a spirit of
infirmity,' both in body and soul.
We recognise the same ' spirit bf infirmity ' in the cir
cumstances of her healing. When Christ, seeing her,
called her, she came ; when He said unto her, ' Woman,
thou hast been loosed from thy sickliness,' she was unbound,
and yet in her weakliness she answered not, nor straightened
herself, till Jesus ' laid His Hands on her,' and so strength
ened her in body and soul, and then she was immediately
' made straight, and glorified God.'
As for the Archisynagogos, we have, as already hinted,
such characteristic portraiture of him that we can almost
see him ; confused, irresolute, perplexed, and very angry,
bustling forward and scolding the people who had done
nothing, yet not venturing to silence the woman, now no
longer infirm — far less to reprove the great Rabbi, Who

366 Jesus the Messiah
had just done such a ' glorious thing,' but speaking at
Him through those who had been the astounded eye
witnesses. He was easily and effectually silenced, and all
who sympathised with him put to shame. ' Hypocrites ! '
spake the Lord — on your own admissions your practice and
your Law condemn your speech. Every one. on the Sab
bath looseth his ox or ass, and leads him to the watering.
The Rabbinic law expressly allowed this, and even to draw
the water, provided the vessel were not carried to the
animal. If, as you admit, I have the power of ' loosing '
from the bonds of Satan, and she has been so bound these
eighteen years, should she — a daughter of Abraham — not
have that done for her which you do for your beasts of
burden ?
The retort was unanswerable ; it covered the adversaries
with shame. And the Perasans in that Synagogue felt
also, at least for the time, the freedom which had come to
that woman. They took up the echoes of her hymn of
praise, and ' rejoiced for all the glorious things that were
done by Him.' And He answered their joy by setting
before them ' the Kingdom,' which He had come both to
preach and to bring, in its reality and all-pervading energy,
as exhibited in the two Parables of ' the Mustard-seed ' and
' the Leaven,' spoken before in Galilee. These were now
repeated, as specially suited to the circumstances. And
the practical application of these Parables must have been
obvious to all.

CHAPTER LX.

AT THE FEAST OF THE DEDICATION OF THE TEMPLE.
(St. Luke xiii. 22 ; St. John x. 22-42.)
About two months had passed since Jesus had left Jeru
salem after the Feast of Tabernacles. At the Feast of the
Dedication of the Temple we find Christ once more in the
Temple. There seems special fitness in Christ's spending what,

At the Feast of the Dedication 367
by a computation of dates, we may regard as the last anni
versary season of His Birth, in the Temple at that Feast. It
was not of Biblical origin, but had been instituted by Judas
Maccabasus in 164 B.C., when the Temple, which had been
desecrated by Antiochus Epiphanes, was once more purified,
and re-dedicated to the service of Jehovah. Accordingly,
it was designated as ' the Dedication of the Altar.'
During the eight days of the Feast the series of Psalms
• Ps. cxiii.- known as the Hallel a was chanted in the Temple,
cxviii. ^e people responding as at the Feast of Taber
nacles. Other rites resembled those of the latter Feast.
>> 2 Maco. Thus, originally, the people appeared with palm-
x- 7 branches.b This however does not seem to have
been afterwards observed, while another rite, not mentioned
in the Book of Maccabees — that of illuminating the Temple
and private houses — became characteristic ofthe Feast. Tra
dition had it, that when the Temple-Services were restored
by Judas Maccabaeus, the oil was found to have been
desecrated. Only one flagon was discovered of that which
was pure, sealed with the very signet of the High-Priest.
The supply proved just sufficient to feed for one day the
Sacred Candlestick, but by a miracle the flagon was con
tinually replenished during eight days, till a fresh supply
could be brought from Thekoah. In memory of this, it
was ordered the following year, that the Temple be illu
minated for eight days on the anniversary of its ' Dedication.'
But the ' Lights ' in honour of the Feast were lit not only
in the Temple, but in every home. One would have suf
ficed for the whole household on the first evening, but
pious householders lit a light for every inmate ofthe home,
sc that, if ten burned on the first, there would be eighty
on the last night of the Festival. According to the Talmud,
the light might be placed at the entrance to the house or
room, or, according to circumstances, in the window, or
even on the table. According to modern practice the light
is placed at the left on entering a room (the Mezuzah, or
folded scroll of the Law, is on the right). Certain bene
dictions are spoken on lighting these lights, all work is
stayed, and the festive time spent in merriment. The first

368 Jesus the Messiah
night is specially kept in memory of Judith, who is supposed
to have slain Holofernes, and cheese is freely partaken of
as the food of which, according to legend, she gave him so
largely, to incite him to thirst and drunkenness. Lastly,
during this Festival all fasting and public mourning were
prohibited, though some minor acts of private mourning
were allowed.
This Festival, like the Feast of Tabernacles, com
memorated a Divine victory, which again gave to Israel
their good land, after they had orkce more undergone sor
rows like those of the wilderness ii it was another harvest-
feast, and pointed forward to yet ajWher ingathering. As
the once extinguished light was relit izr the Temple, it grew
day by day in brightness, till it shone out lbto the heathen
darkness, that once had threatened to quench itS That He
Who purified the Temple, was its True Light, a»d brought
the Great Deliverance, should (as hinted) have spent the
last anniversary season of His Birth at that Fsp\|frithe>
Sanctuary, shining into their darkness, seems most frraBgv
Thoughts of the meaning of this Feast and of what was
associated with it, will be helpful as wehsj^in to the words
which Jesus spake to the people in 'Solomon's Porch.'
It is winter, and Christ is walking in the covered Porch in
front of the ' Beautiful Gate,' which formed the principal
entrance into the ' Court of the Women ' As He walks up
and down, the people are literally barring His way — ' came
round about ' Him. From the whole circumstances we can
not doubt that the question which they put, ' How long
holdest Thou us in suspense-? ' had not in it an element of
genuine inquiry. Their desire that He should tell them
' plainly ' if He were the Christ, had no other motive than
that of grounding on it an accusation. The more clearly
we perceive this, the more wonderful appear the forbear
ance of Christ and the wisdom of His answer Briefly He
puts aside their hypocrisy. What need is there of fresh
speech ? He told them before, and they ' believe not.'
From words He appeals to the indisputable witness ot
deeds : the works which He wrought in His Father's Name.
Their non-belief in presence of these facts was due to their

At the Feast of the Dedication 369
not being of His Sheep. As He had said unto them before
it was characteristic of His Sheep (as generally of every
flock in regard to its own shepherd) to hear — recognise,
listen to — His Voice and follow Him. We mark in the
• st. John words of Christ a triplet of double parallelisms
x.27, 28 concerning the Sheep and the Shepherd, in
ascending climax," as follows :
My sheep hear My Voice, And I know them,
And they follow Me : And I give unto them eternal life ;
And they shall never perish. And no one shall snatch them out of
My Hand.
Richer assurance could not have been given. -But
something special has here to be marked. The two first
parallelisms always link the promise of Christ to the
attitude of the sheep ; not, perhaps, conditionally, but as
a matter of sequence and of fact. But in the third
parallelism there is no reference to anything on the part
of the sheep ; it is all promise, and the second clause only
explains and intensifies what is expressed in the first.
If it indicates attack of the fiercest kind, and by the
strongest and most cunning of enemies, be they men or
devils, it also marks the watchfulness and absolute
superiority of Him Who hath them, as it were, in His
Hand — perhaps a Hebraism for ' power ' — and hence their
absolute safety. And, as if to carry twofold assurance of
it, He reminds His hearers that His Work, being ' the
Father's Commandment,' is really the Father's Work,
given to Christ to do, and no one could snatch them out
of the Father's Hand.
One logical Sequence is unavoidable. Rightly under
stood, it is not only the last and highest announcement,
but it contains and implies everything else. If the Work
of Christ is really that of the Father, and His Working
also that of the Father, then it follows that He ' and the
Father are One ' (' one ' is in the neuter). This identity
of work (and purpose) implies the identity of Nature
(Essence) ; that of working, the identity of Power. And
so, evidently, the Jews understood it when they again
took up stones with the intention of stoning Him — no
B B

370 Jesus the Messiah
doubt because He expressed, in yet more plain terms,
what they regarded as His blasphemy. Once more the
Lord appealed from His Words, which were doubted, to
His Works, which He hath 'showed from the Father,'
any one of which might have served as evidence of His
Mission. And when the Jews ignored this line of evidence,
and insisted that He had been guilty of blasphemy, since,
being a Man, he had made Himself God, the Lord replied
in a manner that calls for our special attention. From
the peculiarly Hebraistic mode of designating a quotation
• Paixxxii. from the Psalms a as 'written in the Law,' we
6 gather that we have here a literal transcript
of the very words of our Lord. He had claimed to be
One with the Father in work and working ; from which,
of course, the necessary inference was, that He was also
One with Him in Nature and Power. Let us see whether
the claim was strange. In Ps. lxxxii. 6 the titles ' God '
and ' Sons of the Highest ' had been given to Judges as
the Representatives and Vicegerents of God, wielding His
delegated authority, since to them had come His Word of
authorisation. But here was authority not transmitted
by ' the word,' but personal and direct consecration and
Mission on the part of God. The comparison made was
not with Prophets, because they only told the word and
message from God, but with Judges, who, as such, did
the very act of God. If those who, in so acting, had
received an indirect commission, were ' gods,' the very
representatives of God, could it be - blasphemy when He
claimed to be the Son of God, Who had received, not
authority through a word transmitted through long cen
turies, but direct personal command, to do the Father's
Work ; had been directly and personally consecrated to it
by the Father, and directly and personally sent by Him,
not to say, but to do, the work of the Father ?
All would, of course, depend on this, whether Christ
»st. joim really did the works of the Father.6 If He
i-37 did the works of His Father, then let them
believe, if not the words, yet the works, and thus would
they arrive at the knowledge, 'and understand' — distin-

The Second Series of Parables 371
guishing here the act from the state — that ' in Me is the
Father, and I in the Father.' In other words, recognising
the Work as that of the Father, they would come to
understand that the Father worked in Him, and that the
root of His Work was in the Father.
The stones that had been taken up were not thrown,
for the words of Christ rendered impossible the charge
of explicit blasphemy which alone would, according to
Rabbinic law, have warranted such summary vengeance.
But ' they sought again to seize Him,' so as to drag Him
before their tribunal. His time, however, had not yet
come, ' and He went forth out of their hand.'

CHAPTER LXI.

THE SECOND SEEIES OF PARABLES — THE TWO PARABLES OF
HIM WHO IS NEIGHBOUR TO US.
(St. Luke x. 25-37 ; xi. 5-13.)
The period between Christ's return from the ' Feast of the
Dedication' and His last entry into Jerusalem, may be
arranged into two parts, divided by the brief visit to
Bethany for the purpose of raising Lazarus from the dead.
The Parables of this period look back upon the past, and
forward into the future. Those spoken by the Lake of Galilee
were purely symbolical. This second series of Parables could
be understood, by all. They were typical, using the word
' type ' as an example, or perhaps more correctly, an exem-
• Asmicor. plification.a Accordingly, they are also intensely
Phii/uilu; practical. Their prevailing character is not
2 ThSs a/ : descriptive, but hortatory ; and they bring the
9; iTim.iv. Gospel, in the sense of glad tidings to the lost,
7;iPet. v. 3 to the hearts of all who hear them.
Of the Parables of the third series it will for the
present suffice to say that they are neither symbolical nor
typical, but their prevailing characteristic is prophetic.
The Parables of the second (or Perasan) series, which
are typical and hortatory, and ' Evangelical ' in character, B B 2

372 Jesus the Messiah
are thirteen in number, and, with the exception of the
last, are either peculiar to, or else most fully recorded in.,
the Gospel by St. Luke.
«st. mke x. 1. The Parable of the Good Samaritan.3' —
25-37 rphis Parable is connected with a question ad
dressed to Jesus by a ' lawyer ' — not one of the Jerusalem
Scribes or Teachers, but probably an expert in Jewish
Canon Law, who possibly made it more or less a profession
in that district, though perhaps not for gain. We have
suggested that the words of this lawyer referred, or else
that himself belonged, to that small party among the
Rabbinists who, at least in theory, attached greater value
to good works than to study. Knowing the habits of his
class, we do not wonder that he put his question to
' tempt ' — test, try — the great Rabbi of Nazareth.
We seem to witness the opening of a regular Rabbinic
contest as we listen to this speculative problem : ' Teacher,
what having done shall I inherit eternal life ? ' At the
foundation lay the notion that eternal life was the reward
of merit, of works : the only question was, what these works
were to be. The idea of guilt had not entered his mind ;
he had no conception of sin within. There was a way in
which a man might inherit eternal life, not indeed as
having absolute claim to it, but in consequence of God's
Covenant on Sinai. And so our Lord, using the common
Rabbinic expression, ' What readest thou ? ' pointed him to
the Scriptures of the Old Testament.
The reply of the ' lawyer ' is remarkable, not only on
its own account, but as substantially that given on two
other occasions by the Lord Himself.b The ques-
» St. Matt. . ,,, n • . t-i i ¦
xi>r.i6 22; tion therefore naturally arises, whence did this
lawyer, who certainly had not spiritual insight,
derive his reply ? As regarded the duty of absolute love
to God, indicated by the quotation of Deut. vi. 5, there
could, of course, be no hesitation in the mind of a Jew.
The primary obligation of this is frequently referred to,
and, indeed, taken for granted, in Rabbinic teaching.
The repetition of this command formed part of the daily
paayers. When Jesus referred the lawyer to the Scriptures,

Parable of the Good Samaritan 373
he could scarcely fail to quote this first paramount obliga
tion. Hillel had summed up the Law, in briefest compass, in
these words : '' What is hateful to thee, that do not to
another. This is the whole Law ; the rest is only its ex
planation.' Still, the two principles just mentioned are
not enunciated in conjunction by Rabbinism, nor seriously
propounded as either containing the whole Law or as secur
ing heaven. They are also subjected to grave modifications.
On the ground of works — if that had been tenable — the
lawyer's answer really pointed to. the right solution of the
question : this was the way to heaven. To understand any
other answer would have required a sense of sin ; and it is
the preaching of_ the Law which awakens in the mind a
sense of sin.a But the difficulty of this ' way '
would soon suggest itself to a Jew.
Whatever complexity of motives there may have been,
there can be no doubt as to the main object of the lawyer's
question : ' But who is my neighbour ? ' He wished ' to
justify himself,' in the sense of vindicating his original
question, and showing that it was not quite so easily
settled as the answer of Jesus seemed to imply. And
here it was that Christ could in a ' Parable ' show how far
orthodox Judaism was from even a true understanding,
much more from such perfect observance of this Law as
would gain heaven.
Some one coming from the Holy City, the Metropolis
of Judaism, is pursuing the solitary desert-road, those
twenty-one miles to Jericho, a district notoriously insecure,
when he ' fell among robbers, who, having both stripped and
inflicted on him strokes, went away leaving him just as
he was, half dead.' This is the first scene. The second
opens with an expression which, theologically, as well as
exegetically, is of the greatest interest. The word ren
dered ' by chance ' occurs only in this place, for Scripture
commonly views matters in relation to agents rather than
to results. The real meaning of the word is ' concurrence,'
much like the corresponding Hebrew term. And better
definition could not be given, not, indeed, of ' Providence,'

374 Jesus the Messiah
which is a heathen abstraction for which the Bible has no
equivalent, but for the concrete reality of God's providing.
He provides through a concurrence of circumstances, all in
themselves natural and in the succession of ordinary
causation (and this distinguishes it from the miracle),
but the concurring of which is directed and overruled by
Him. And this helps us to put aside those coarse tests
of the reality of prayer and of the direct rule of God which
men sometimes propose.
It was by such a ' concurrence ' that first a priest, then
a Levite, came down that road, when each successively
' when he saw him, passed by over against (him).' It
was the principle of questioning, ' Who is my neighbour ? '
which led both priest and Levite to such conduct. Who
knew what this wounded man was, and how he came
to lie there; and were they called upon, in igno
rance of this, to take all the trouble, perhaps incur the
risk of life, which care of him would, involve ? Thus
Judaism (in the persons of its chief representatives) had,
by its exclusive attention to the letter, come to destroy
the spirit of~ the Law. Happily, there came yet another
that way, not only a stranger, but one despised,, a semi-
heathen Samaritan. He asked not who the man was,
but what was his need. Whatever the wounded Jew
might have felt towards him, the Samaritan proved a
true ' neighbour.' ' He came towards him, and beholding
him, he was moved with compassion.' He first bound up
his wounds, and then, taking from his travelling provision
wine and oil, made of 'them what was regarded as the
common dressing for wounds. Next, having ' set ' (lifted)
him on his own beast, he walked by his side, and brought
him to one of those khans, or hostelries, by the side of
unfrequented roads, which afforded free lodgment to the
traveller. Generally they also offered entertainment,
in which case, of course, the host, commonly a non-
Israelite, charged for the victuals supplied to man or
beast*, or for the care taken. In the present instance the
Samaritan seems himself to have tended the wounded
man all that evening. But even thus his care did not

Parable op the Importunate Neighbour 375
end. The next morning, before continuing his journey,
he gave to the host two dinars — about one shilling and
threepence of our money, the amount of a labourer's wages
•stMatt for two days" — as it were, two days' wages for
**• 2 his care of him, with this provision, that if any
further expense were incurred, he would pay it when he
next came that way.
So far the Parable : its lesson ' the lawyer ' is made
himself to enunciate. ' Which of these three seems to
thee to have become neighbour of him that fell among the
robbers ? ' Though unwilling to take the hated name of
Samaritan on his lips, especially as the meaning of the
Parable and its anti-Rabbinic bearing were so evident,
the 'lawyer' was obliged to reply: 'He that showed
mercy on him,' when the Saviour answered, ' Go, and do
thou likewise.'
The Parable implies not a mere enlargement of the
Jewish ideas, but a complete change of them. The whole
old relationship of mere duty is changed into one of love.
Thus matters are placed on an entirely different basis
from that of Judaism. The question now is not ' Who is
my neighbour ? ' but ' Whose neighbour am I ? ' The
Gospel answers the question of duty by pointing us to
love. Wouldst thou know who is thy neighbour ? Become
a neighbour to all by the utmost service thou canst do
them in their need. And so the Gospel would not only
abolish man's enmity, but bridge over man's separation.
2. The Parable which follows in St. Luke's narrative b
"st Lute seems closely connected with that just com-
xi. 5-13 mented upon. It is also a story of a good
neighbour who gives in our need, but presents another
aspect of the truth to which the Parable of the Good
Samaritan had pointed. Love bends to our need : this
is the objective manifestation of the Gospel. Need looks
up to love, and by its cry elicits the boon which it seeks.
And this is the subjective experience of the Gospel. The
one underlies the story of the first Parable, the other that
of the second.
This second Parable is strung to the request of some

376 Jesus the Messiah
disciples to be taught what to pray.a A man has a
»st. Luke friend who, long after nightfall, unexpectedly
KL1 comes to him from a journey. He has nothing
in the house, yet he must provide for his need, for hospitality
demands it. Accordingly, though it be so late, he goes to
his friend and neighbour to ask him for three loaves, stating
the case. On the other hand, the friend so asked refuses,
since at that late hour he has retired to bed with his
children, and to grant his request would imply not only
inconvenience to himself, but the disturbing of the whole
household. It is not ordinary but, so to speak, extra
ordinary prayer, which is here alluded to.
To return to the Parable: the question (abruptly
broken off from the beginning of the Parable in ver. 5)
is, what each of us would do in the circumstances just
„ detailed. The answer is implied in what follows.b
It points to continued importunity, which would
at last obtain what it needs. ' I tell you, even if he will
not give him, rising up, because he is his friend, yet at
least on account of his importunity, he will rise up and
give him as many as he needeth.' It is a gross misunder
standing to describe this as presenting a mechanical view
of prayer ; as if it implied either that God was unwilling
to answer, or else that prayer, otherwise unheard, would
be answered merely for its importunity. The lesson is
that where, for some reasons, there are or seem special
difficulties to an answer to our prayers, the importunity
arising from the sense of our absolute need, and the
knowledge that He is our Friend and that He has bread,
will ultimately prevail. The difficulty is not as to the
giving, but as to the giving then — ' rising up ; ' and this
is overcome by perseverance, so that (to return to the
Parable) if he will not rise up because he is his friend,
yet at least he will rise because of his importunity, and
not only give him ' three ' loaves, but, in general, ' as
many as he needeth.'
So important is the teaching of this Parable that
Christ makes detailed application of it. He bids us ' ask,'
and that earnestly and believingly ; ' seek,' and that

Parable of the Foolish Rich Man 377
energetically and instantly; 'knock,' and that intently
and loudly. Ask — He is a Friend, and we shall ' receive ; '
' seek ' — it is there, and we shall ' find ; ' ' knock ' — our
need is absolute, and it shall be opened to us. And such
importunity applies to ' every one,' whoever he be, and
whatever the circumstances which would seem to render
his prayer specially difficult of answer.
More than this, God will not deceive by the appearance of
what is not reality. He will even give the greatest gift.
The Parabolic relation is now not that of friends, but of
father and son. If the son ask for bread, will the father
give what seems such, but is only a stone ? If he ask
for a fish, will he tender him what looks such, but is a
serpent ? If he seeks an egg, will he hand to him what
breeds a scorpion ? The need, the hunger, of the child will
not, in answer to its prayer, receive at the Father's Hands
that which seems, but gives not the reality of satisfaction
— rather is poison. Let us draw the inference. Such is
our conduct — how much more shall our heavenly Father
give His Holy Spirit to them that ask Him ?

CHAPTER LXII.
THE THREE PARABLES OF WARNING : THE FOOLISH RICH
MAN — THE BARREN FIG-TREE — THE GREAT SUPPER.
(St. Luke xii. 13-21 ; xiii. 6-9 ; xiv. 16-24.)
The three Parables which successively follow in St. Luke's
Gospel may generally be designated as those ' of warning.'
This holds especially true of the last two of them, which
refer to the civil and the ecclesiastical polity of Israel.
Each of the three Parables was spoken under circumstances
which gave occasion for such illustration.
» st. Luke 1. The Parable of the Foolish Rich Man* It
aL 13"31 appears that some one among them that listened
to Jesus, conceived the idea that the authority of the Great
Rabbi of Nazareth might be used for his own selfish

378 Jesus the Messiah
purposes. Evidently Christ must have attracted and
deeply moved multitudes, or His interposition would not
have been sought; and, equally evidently, what He preached
had made upon this man the impression that he might
possibly enlist Him as his champion. On the other hand,
Christ had not only no legal authority for interfering, but
the Jewish law of inheritance was so clearly defined, and
we may add so just, that if this person had had any just
or good cause, there could have been no need for appealing
to Jesus. Hence it must have been ' covetousness,' in the
strictest sense, which prompted it — perhaps a wish to have,
besides his own share as a younger brother, half of that
additional portion which, by law, came to the eldest son of
the family.
This accounts for the immediate reference of our Lord
to covetousness, the folly of which He showed by this
almost self-evident principle — that ' not in the superabound-
ing to any one [not in that wherein he has more than
enough] consisteth his life, from the things which he pos-
sesseth.' In other words, that part of the things which a
man possesseth by which his life is sustained, consists not in
what is superabundant : his life is sustained by that which
he needs and uses ; the rest, the superabundance, forms no
part of his life, and may, perhaps, never be of use to him.
And herein lies the danger : the love of these things will
engross mind and heart, and care about them will drive
out higher thoughts and aims. The moral as regarded the
Kingdom of God, and the warning not to lose it for thought
of what ' perisheth with the using,' are obvious.
The Parable itself consists of two parts, of which the
first shows the folly, the second the sin and danger of that
care for what is beyond our present need, which is the
characteristic of covetousness. The rich man is surveying
his land, which is bearing plentifully — evidently beyond its
former yield, since the old provision for storing the corn
appears no longer sufficient. In the calculations which he
now makes, he looks into the future, and sees there pro
gressive increase and riches. As yet, the harvest was not
reaped ; but he was already considering what to do, reckon-

Parable of the Foolish Rich Man 379
ing upon the riches that would come to him. And so he
resolved to pull down the old, and build larger barns, where
he would store his future possessions. In these plans for
the future — and it was his folly to make such absolutely —
he thought not of God. His whole heart was set on the
acquisition of earthly riches, not on the service of God.
He remembered not his responsibility ; all that he had was
for himself, and absolutely his own, to batten upon : ' Soul,
thou hast much goods laid up for many years ; take thine
ease, eat, drink, be merry.' He did not even remember
that there was a God Who might cut short his years.
And now comes the quick, sharp contrast. ' But God
said unto him' — not by revelation, nor through inward
presentiment, but with awful suddenness, in those un
spoken words of fact which cannot be gainsaid or answered :
' Thou fool ! this very night '-r-which follows on thy plans
and purposings — ' thy soul is required of thee. But the
things which thou hast prepared, whose shall they be ? '
Here, with the obvious evidence of the folly of such state
of mind, the Parable breaks off. Its sinfulness — nay, and
beyond this negative aspect of it, the wisdom of righteous
ness in laying up the good treasure which cannot be taken
from us, appears in this concluding remark of Christ — ' So
is he who layeth up treasure (treasureth) for himself, and
is not rich towards God.'
It was a barbed arrow, we might say, out of the Jewish
quiver, but directed by the Hand of the Lord. For we
read in the Talmud that a Rabbi told his disciples,
' Repent the day before thy death ; ' and when his dis
ciples asked him : ' Does a man know the day of his
death ? ' he replied, that on that very ground he should
repent to-day, lest he should die to-morrow. And so
would all his days be days of repentance. The Son of
Sirach, the Talmud, and the Midrash furnish similar warn
ings and parallels. But we miss in them the spiritual
application made by Christ.
2. The special warning intended to be conveyed by
» st. Luke the Parable of the Barren Fig-tree " suffici-
xia e-9 ently appears from the context. As previously

380 Jesus the Messiah
explained, the Lord had not only corrected the erroneous
interpretations which the Jews were giving to certain
recent national occurrences, but pointed them to this higher
moral of all such events, that, unless speedy national re
pentance followed, the whole people would perish. This
Parable offers not merely an exemplification of this general
prediction of Christ, but sets before us that which underlies
it : Israel in its relation to God ; the need of repentance ;
Israel's danger ; the nature of repentance, and its urgency ;
the relation of Christ to Israel ; the Gospel ; and the final
judgment on impenitence.
As regards the details of this Parable, we mark that
the fig-tree had been specially planted by the owner in his
vineyard, which was the choicest situation. This, we know,
was not unusual. Fig-trees, as well as palm- and olive-
trees, were regarded as so valuable, that to cut them down,
if they yielded even a small measure of fruit, was popularly
deemed to deserve death at the Hand of God. Ancient
Jewish writings supply interesting particulars of this
tree and its culture. On account of its repeated crops,
it was declared not subject to the ordinance which en
joined that fruit should be left in the corners for the poor.
Its artificial inoculation was known. The practice men
tioned in the Parable of digging about the tree and dunging
it, is frequently mentioned in Rabbinic writings, and by
the same designations. Curiously, Maimonides mentions
three years as the utmost limit within which a tree should
bear fruit in the land of Israel. Lastly, as trees were re
garded as by their roots undermining and deteriorating the
ground, a barren tree would be of threefold disadvantage :
it would yield no fruit ; it would fill valuable space, which
a fruit-bearer might occupy ; and it would needlessly
deteriorate the land. Accordingly, while it was forbidden
to destroy fruit-bearing trees, it would, on the grounds
above stated, be duty to cut down a ' barren ' or ' empty '
tree. These particulars will enable us more fully to under
stand the details of the Parable. Allegorically, the fig-
tree served in the Old Testament as emblem of the Jewish

Parable of the Barren Fig-Tree 381
nation a ; in the Talmud, rather as that of Israel's lore, and
hence of the leaders and the pious of the people.
The vineyard is in the New Testament the
symbol ofthe Kingdom of God, as distinct from the nation
of Israel. b Thus far then, the Parable may be
xx. i &c. ¦ thus translated : God called Israel as a nation,
in Jewish an(l planted it in the most favoured spot — as a
two^w1**116 fig"tiee in the vineyard of His own Kingdom.
scarcely ' And He came seeking,' as He had every right to
do, ' fruit thereon, and found none.' It was the
third year (not after three years, but evidently in the third
year, when the third year's crop should have appeared),
that He had vainly looked for fruit, when He turned to His
Vinedresser — the Messiah, to Whom the vineyard is com
mitted as its King — with this direction : ' Cut it down —
why doth it also deteriorate the soil ? ' It is barren,
though in the best position ; as a fig-tree it ought to bear
figs, and here the best ; it fills the place which a good tree
might occupy; and besides, it deteriorates the soil. And
its three years' barrenness has established (as before ex
plained) its utterly hopeless character. Then it is that
the Divine Vinedresser, in His infinite compassion, pleads,
and with far deeper reality than either Abraham or Moses
could have entreated, for the fig-tree which Himself had
planted and tended, that it should be spared ' this year
also/ ' until then that I shall dig about it, and dung it ' —
till He labour otherwise than before, even by His Own
Presence and Words, nay, by laying to its roots His most
precious Blood. ' And if then it bear fruit ' — here the
text abruptly breaks off, as implying that in such case it
would, of course, be allowed to remain ; ' but if not, then
against the future (coming) year shalt thou cut it down.'
The Parable needs no further commentation.
3. The third Parable of warning — that of the Great
« st. Luke Supper " — refers not to the political state of Israel,
xiv. 16-24 kut; t0 their ecclesiastical status, and their con
tinuance as the possessors and representatives of the
Kingdom of God. It was spoken after the return of Jesus
from the Feast of the Dedication, and therefore carries us

382 Jesus the Messiah
beyond the point in this history which we have reached.
Accordingly, the attendant circumstances will be explained
in the sequel.
What led up to the Parable of 'the Great Supper'
happened after these things : after His healing of the man
with the dropsy in sight of them all on the Sabbath, after
His twofold rebuke of their perversion of the Sabbath-
Law, and of those marked characteristics of Pharisaism,
which showed how far they were from bringing forth fruit
worthy of the Kingdom, and how they misrepresented
» st. Luke tne Kingdom, and were utterly unfit ever to do
xiv. 1-11 otherwise. a The Lord had spoken of making a
feast, not for one's kindred, nor for the rich — whether such
outwardly, or mentally and spiritually from the standpoint
ofthe Pharisees — but for the poor and afflicted. This would
imply true spirituality, because that fellowship of giving,
which descends to others in order to raise them as brethren,
not condescends, in order to be raised by them as their
Master and Superior.b And He had concluded
' with these words : ' And thou shalt be blessed —
because they have not to re'nder back again to thee, for
it shall be rendered back to thee again in the
Resurrection of the Just.'0
It was this last clause — but separated, in true Phari
saic spirit, from that which had preceded and indicated the
motive — on which one of those present now commented,
probably with a covert, perhaps a provocative, reference to
what formed the subject of Christ's constant teaching :
' Blessed whoso shall eat bread in the Kingdom of Heaven.'
An expression this, which to the Pharisee meant the com
mon Jewish expectancy of a great feast at the beginning
of the Messianic Kingdom. Whether or not it was the
object of his exclamation, as sometimes religious common
places or platitudes are in our days, to interrupt the course
of Christ's rebukes, or as before hinted, to provoke Him
to unguarded speech, must be left undetermined. What
is chiefly apparent is, that this Pharisee separated what
Christ said about the blessings of the first Resurrection
from that with which He had connected them as logically

Parable of the Great Supper 383
their moral antecedent : viz. love, in opposition to self-
assertion and self-seeking. The Pharisee's words imply
that like his class he, at any rate, fully expected to share
in these blessings as a matter of course, and because he
was a Pharisee. Thus to leave out Christ's anteceding
words was not only to set them aside, but to pervert His
saying, and to place the blessedness of the future on the
very opposite basis from that on which Christ had rested
» st Luke it. Accordingly, it was to this man personally a
*"• 16 that the Parable was addressed.
There can be no difficulty in understanding the main
ideas underlying the Parable. The man who made the
' Great Supper ' was He Who had, in the Old Testament,
6 t prepared ' a feast of fat things.' b The ' bidding
' many ' preceded the actual announcement of the
day and hour of the feast. This general announcement
was made in the Old Testament institutions and prophecies,
and the guests bidden were those in the city, the chief
men — not the ignorant and those out of the way, but the
men who knew, and read, and expounded these prophecies.
At last the preparations were ended, and the Master sent
out His Servant — referring to whomsoever He would em
ploy for that purpose. It was to intimate to the persons
formerly bidden, that everything was now ready. Then it
was that, however differing in their special grounds for it,
or expressing it with more or less courtesy, they were all
at one in declining to come. The feast to which they had
been bidden some time before, and to which they had ap
parently agreed to come, was, when actually announced as
ready, not what they had expected, at any rate not what
they regarded as more desirable than what they had, and
must give up in order to come to it. For — and this seems
one of the principal points in the Parable — to come to that
feast, to enter into the Kingdom, implies the giving up of
something that seems, if not necessary, yet most desirable,
and the enjoyment of which appears only reasonable.
Then let the feast be for those who were in need of it,
and to whom it would be a feast : the poor and those
afflicted — the maimed, and blind and lame, on whom those

384 Jesus the Messiah
great citizens who had been first bidden would look down.
This, with reference to, and in higher spiritual explanation
of what Christ had previously said about bidding such to
• st. Luke our feasts of fellowship and love. a Accordingly,
***• 13 the Servant is now directed to ' go out quickly
into the (larger) streets and the (narrow) lanes of the City '
— a trait which shows that the scene is laid in * the City,'
the professed habitation of God. The importance of this
circumstance is evident. It not only explains who the
first bidden chief citizens were, but also that these poor
were the despised ignorant, and the maimed, lame, and
blind — such as the publicans and sinners. These are they
in ' the streets ' and ' lanes ; ' and the Servant is directed,
not only to invite, but to ' bring them in,' as otherwise
they might naturally shrink from coming to such a feast.
But even so, ' there is yet room ; ' for the Lord of the house
has, in His liberality, prepared a very great feast for very
many. And so the Servant is once more sent, so that the
Master's ' house may be filled.' But now he is bidden to
' go out,' outside the City, outside the Theocracy, ' into the
highways and hedges,' to those who travel along the
world's great highway, or who have fallen down weary,
and rest by its hedges ; into the busy, or else weary,
heathen world. This reference to the heathen world is the
more apparent that, according to the Talmud, there were
commonly no hedges round the fields of the Jews. And
this time the direction to the Servant is not, as in regard
to those naturally bashful outcasts of the City — who would
scarcely venture to the great house — to ' bring them in,'
but ' constrain ' [without a pronoun] ' to come in.' Their
being invited by a Lord Whom they had not known, per
haps never heard of before, to a City in which they were
strangers, and to a feast for which — as wayfarers, or as
resting by the hedges, or else as working within their en
closure — they were wholly unprepared, required special
urgency, ' a constraining,' to make them either believe in
it, or come to it from where the messengers found them,
and that without preparing for it by dress or otherwise.
And so the house would be filled.

The Three Parables of the Gospel 385
Here the Parable abruptly breaks off. What follows
are the words of our Lord in explanation and application
of it to the company then present : ' For I say unto you,
that none of those men which were bidden shall taste of
My Supper.' And this was the final answer to this
Pharisee and to those with him at that table, and to all
such perversion of Christ's Words and misapplication of
God's Promises as he and they were guilty of.

CHAPTER LXIIL

THE THREE PARABLES OF THE GOSPEL: THE LOST SHEEP,
THE LOST DRACHM, THE LOST SON.
(St. Luke xv. )
A simple perusal of the three Parables grouped together
in the fifteenth chapter of St. Luke's Gospel, will convince
us of their connection. They are peculiarly Gospel
Parables ' of the recovery of the lost : ' in the first
instance, through the unwearied labour ; in the second,
through the anxious care, of the owner ; and in the third
Parable, through the never-ceasing love of the Father.
Properly to understand these Parables, the circum
stances which elicited them must be kept in view. As
Jesus preached the Gospel of God's call, not to those who
had, as they imagined, prepared themselves for the King
dom by study and good works, but as that of a door open,
and a welcome free to all, ' all the publicans and sinners
were [constantly] drawing near to Him.' It has been
shown, that the Jewish teaching concerning repentance
was quite other than, nay, contrary to, that of Christ.
Theirs was not a Gospel to the lost : they had nothing to
say to sinners. They called upon them to ' do penitence,'
and then Divine Mercy, or rather Justice, would have its
reward for the penitent. Christ's Gospel was to the lost as
such. It told them of forgiveness, of what the Saviour
was doing, and the Father purposed and felt for them ; and
that, not in the future and as reward of their penitence,
but now in the immediate present. From what we know
CG

386 Jesus the Messiah
of the Pharisees, we can scarcely wonder that ' they were
murmuring at Him, saying, This man receiveth " sinners,"
and eateth with them.' Whether or not Christ had on this,
» st. Matt, as on other occasions," joined at a meal with such
ix. 10, 11 persons, their charge was so far true, that ' this
One,' in contrariety to the principles and practice of
Rabbinism, ' received sinners ' as such, and consorted with
them. These three Parables proceed on the view that the work
of the Father and of Christ, as regards ' the Kingdom,' is
the same ; that Christ was doing the work of the Father,
and that they who know Christ know the Father also.
That work was the restoration of the lost ; Christ had come
to do it, and it was the longing of the Father to welcome
the lost home again. Further, and this is only second ia
importance, the lost was still God's property ; and he who
had wandered farthest was a child of the Father, and con
sidered as such.
In other particulars there are, however, differences, all
the more marked that they are so finely shaded. These
concern the lost, their restoration, and its results.
1. The Parable of the Lost Sheep. — The Lost Sheep is
only one among a hundred : not a very great loss. Yet
which among us would not, even from the common motives
of ownership, leave the ninety-and-nine, and go after it, all
the more that it has strayed into the wilderness ? At the
outset we remark that this Parable and the next, that of the
Lost Drachm, are intended as an answer to the Pharisees.
Hence they are addressed to them. Should not the Christ
do even as they would have done to the straying and
almost lost sheep of His own flock ? We think not only
of those sheep which Jewish pride and superciliousness
had left to go astray, but of our own natural tendency to
wander. And we recall the saying of St. Peter, which, no
doubt, looked back upon this Parable : ' Ye were as sheep
going astray; but are now returned unto the Shepherd and „
Bishop of your souls.' b It is not difficult in
imagination to follow the Parabolic picture : how
in its folly and ignorance the sheep strayed further and

Parable of the Lost Drachm 387
further, and at last was lost in solitude and among stony
places ; how the shepherd followed and found it, weary and
footsore ; and then with tender care lifted it on his shoulder,
and carried it home, glad that he had found the lost. And
not only this, but when, after long absence, he returned
home with his found sheep, that now nestled close to its
Saviour, he called together his friends, and bade them
rejoice with him over the erst lost and now found
treasure. To mark here the contrast between the teaching of
Christ and that of the Pharisees, we put down in all its
nakedness the message which Pharisaism brought to the
lost. Christ said to them : ' There is joy in heaven over
one sinner that repenteth.' Pharisaism said — and we quote
literally— ' There is joy before God when those who pro
voke Him perish from the world.'
2. In proceeding to the second Parable, that of the
Lost Drachm, we must keep in mind that in the first the
danger of being lost arose from the natural tendency of
the sheep to wander. In the second Parable it is no longer
our natural tendency to which our loss is attributable:
The drachm (about 7^d. of our money) has been lost, as
the woman, its owner, was using or counting her money.
The loss is the more sensible as it is one out of only ten,
which constitute the owner's property. But it is still in
the house — not like the sheep that had gone astray — only
covered by the dust that is continually accumulating from
the work and accidents around. And so it is more and
more likely to be buried under it, or swept into chinks and
corners, and less and less likely to be found as time passes.
But the woman lights a lamp, sweeps the house, and seeks
diligently till she has found it. And then she calleth
together those around, and bids them rejoice with her over ,
the finding of the lost part of her possessions. And so
there is joy in the presence of the Angels over one sinner
that repenteth. The interest of this Parable centres in the
search. 3. If it has already appeared that the two first Para
bles are not merely a repetition, in different form, of the
c c 2

388 Jesus the Messiah
same thought, but represent two different aspects and
causes ofthe ' being lost' — the essential difference between
them appears even more clearly in the third Parable, that
ot the Lost Son. Before indicating it in detail, we niay
mark the similarity in form, and the contrast in spirit, of
analogous Rabbinic Parables. The Midrash*
m' relates how when Moses fed the sheep of Jethro
in the wilderness, and a kid had gone astray, he went after
it, and found it drinking at a spring. As he thought it
might be weary, he laid it on his shoulder and brought it
back ; when God said that, because he had shown pity on
the sheep of a man, He would give him His own sheep,
Israel, to feed. As a parallel to the second Parable, this
may be quoted as similar in form, though very different in
spirit, when a Rabbi notes that, if a man had lost a sela
(drachm) or anything else of value in his house, he would
light ever so many lights till he had found what provides
for only one hour in this world. How much more, then,
should he search, as for hidden treasures, for the words of
the Law, on which depends the life of this and of the world
to come ! And in regard to the high place which Christ
assigned to the repenting sinner, we may note that, accor
ding .to the leading Rabbis, the penitents would stand
nearer to God than the l perfectly righteous,' since, in
Is. lvii. 19, peace was first bidden to those who had been
afar off, and then only to those near.
It may be added that besides illustrations, to which
reference will be made in the sequel, Rabbinic tradition
supplies a parallel to at least part of the third Parable, that
of the Lost Son. It tells us that while prayer may some
times find the gate of access closed, it is never shut against
repentance, and it introduces a Parable in which a king
sends a tutor after his son, who, in his wickedness, had left
the palace, with this message : ' Return, my son ! ' to which
the latter replied : ' With what face can I return ? I am
ashamed ! ' On which the father sends this message : ' My
son, is there a son who is ashamed to return to his father — ¦
and shalt thou not return to thy father ? Thou shalt re
turn.' So, continues the Midrash, had God sent Jeremiah

Parable of the Prodigal Son 389
after Israel in the hour of their sin with the call to return,11
. x ... ,„ and the comforting reminder that it was to their
» Jer. in. 12 _ , °
Father.
In the Parable of ' the Lost Son,' the main interest
centres in his restoration. It is not now to the innate ten
dency of his nature, nor yet to the work and dust in the
house that the loss is attributable, but to the personal, free
choice of the individual. He does not stray ; he does not
fall aside — he wilfully departs, and under aggravated cir
cumstances. It is the younger of two sons of a father who
is equally loving to both, and kind even to his hired ser
vants, whose home, moreover, is one not only of sufficiency
but of wealth. The demand which he makes for the ' por
tion of property falling ' to • him is founded on the Jewish
Law of Inheritance. Presumably, the father had only these
two sons. The elder would receive two portions, the
younger the third of all movable property. The father
could not have disinherited the younger son, although, if
there had been several younger sons, he might have divided
the property falling to them as' he wished, provided he
expressed only his disposition, and did not add that
such or such of the children were to have a less share or
none at all. On the other hand, a man might, during his
lifetime, dispose of all his property by gift, as he chose,
to the disadvantage or even the total loss of ihe first
born, or of any other children ; nay, he might give all to
strangers. It thus appears that the younger son was, by law, fully
entitled to his share of the possessions, although, of course,
he had no right to claim it during his father's lifetime.
His conduct, whatever his motives, was most heartless as re
garded his father, and sinful as before God. Such a disposition
could not prosper. The father had yielded to his demand,
and, to be as free as possible from control and restraint,
the younger son had gone into a far country. There the
natural sequences soon appeared, and his property was
wasted in riotous living.
The next scene in the history is misunderstood when
the objection is raised, that the young man's misery is

390 Jesus the Messiah
there represented as the result of Providential circumstances
rather than of his own misdoing. For our awakening, in
deed, we are frequently indebted to what is called the
Providence, but what is really the manifold working to
gether of the grace of God. And so we find special mean
ing in the occurrence of this famine. That in his want
' he clave to one of the citizens of that country,' seems to
indicate that the man had been unwilling to engage the
dissipated young stranger, and only yielded to his desperate
importunity. This also explains how he employed him in
the lowest menial service, that of feeding swine. To a Jew
there was more than degradation in this, since the keeping
of swine (although perhaps the ownership rather than the feed
ing) was prohibited to Israelites under a curse. And even in
this demeaning service he was so evil entreated, that for very
hunger he would fain have ' filled his belly with the carob-
pods that the swine did eat.' But here the same harshness
which had sent him to such employment met him on the
part of all the people of that country : ' and no man gave
unto him,' even sufficient of such food. What perhaps
gives additional meaning to this description is the Jewish
saying, ' When Israel is reduced to the carob-tree, they
become repentant.'
It was this pressure of extreme want which first
showed to the younger son the contrast between the
country and the circumstances to which his sin had
brought him, and the plentiful provision of the home he
had left, and the kindness which provided bread enough
and to spare for even the hired servants. There was
only a step between what he said, ' having come into him
self,' and his resolve to return, though its felt difficulty
seems implied in the expression, 'I will arise.' Nor would
he go back with the hope of being reinstated in his position
as son, seeing he had already received and wasted in sin
his portion of the patrimony. All he sought was to be
made as one of the hired servants. And alike from true
feeling, and to show that this was all his pretence, he
would preface his request by the confession, that he had
sinned ' against heaven ' — a frequent Hebraism for ' against

Parable of the Prodigal Son 391
God ' — and in the sight of his father, and hence could no
longer lay claim to the name of son.
But the result was far other than he could have ex
pected. When we read that, ' while he was yet afar off,
his father saw him,' we must evidently understand it in
the sense, that his father had been always on the outlook for
him, an impression which is strengthened by the later
command to the servants to ' bring the calf, the fatted
• st Luke one)' a as if i* Lad been specially fattened against
**-23 his return. As he now saw him, 'he was moved
with compassion, and he ran, and he fell on his neck, and
covered him with kisses.' Such a reception rendered, the
purposed request, to be made as one of the hired servants,
impossible. The father's love had anticipated his con
fession, and rendered its self-spoken sentence of condemna
tion impossible. And so he only made confession of his
sin and wrong — not only as preface to the request to be
taken in as a servant, but as the outgoing of a humbled,
grateful, truly penitent heart. Here it deserves special
notice, as marking the absolute contrast between the
teaching of Christ and Rabbinism, that we have in one of
the oldest Rabbinic works a Parable exactly the reverse of
this,, when the son of a friend is redeemed from bondage,
not as a son, but to be a slave, that so obedience might
be demanded of him. The inference drawn is, that the
obedience of the redeemed is not that of filial love of the
pardoned, but the enforcement of the claim of the master.
They have reached the house. And now the father
would not only restore the son, but convey to him the
evidence of it, and he would do so before, and by the
servants. The three tokens of wealth and position are to
be furnished him . ' Quickly ' the servants are to bring
forth the ' stola,' the upper garment of the higher classes,
and that ' the first ' — the best, and this instead of the
tattered, coarse raiment ofthe foreign swineherd. Similarly,
the finger-ring for his hand, and the sandals for his un
shod feet, would indicate the son of the house. And to
mark this still further, the servants are not only to bring
these articles, but themselves to ' put them on ' the son,

392 Jesus the Messiah
so as thereby to own his mastership. And yet further,
the calf, ' the fatted one ' for this very occasion, was to be
killed, and there was to be a joyous feast, for ' this ' his
son ' was dead, and is come to life again ; was lost and is
found.' While this was going on, so continues the Parable,
the elder brother was still in the field. On his return
home, he inquired of a servant the reason of the festivities
which he heard within the house. The harsh words of
reproach with which he next set forth his own apparent
wrongs could have only one meaning : his father had never
rewarded him for his services.
But in this very thing lay the error of the elder son,
and to apply it — the fatal mistake of Pharisaism. The
elder son regarded all as of merit and reward, as work
and return. But it is not so. We mark, first, that the
same tenderness which had welcomed the returning son
now met the elder brother. The father spoke to the angry
man, not in the language of merited reproof, but addressed
him lovingly as ' son,' and reasoned with him. And then,
when he had shown him his wrong, he would fain recall him
to better feeling by telling him ofthe other as his ' brother.' a
¦ st. Luke -But the main point is this. There can be here
xv. 32 no question of desert. So long as the son is in
His Father's house, He gives in His great goodness to His
child all that is the Father's. But this poor lost one — still
a son and a brother— he has not got any reward, only
been taken back again by a Father's love, when he had
come back to Him in the misery of his need. This son, or
rather, as the other should view him, this ' brother,' had
been dead, and was come to life again; lost, and was
found. And over this ' it was meet to make merry and be
glad,' not to murmur. Such murmuring came from thoughts
of work and pay — wrong in themselves, and foreign to the
proper idea of Father and son ; such joy, from a Father's
heart. The elder brother's were the thoughts of a servant :
of service and return; the younger brother's was the
welcome of a son in the mercy and everlasting love of a
Father.

393

CHAPTER LXIV.
THE UNJUST STEWARD — DIVES AND LAZARUS.
(St. Luke xvi.)
Although widely differing in their object and teaching,
the last group of Parables spoken during this part of
Christ's Ministry is, at least outwardly, connected by a
leading thought. The word by which we would string
them together is Righteousness. There are three Parables
of the l/krighteous : the Unrighteous Steward, the Un
righteous Owner, and the Unrighteous Dispenser, or Judge.
And these are followed by two other Parables of the
Sei/'-righteous : Self-righteousness in its Ignorance, and
its dangers as regards oneself; and Self-Righteousness in
its Harshness, and its dangers as regards others. But
when this outward connection has been marked, we have
gone the utmost length. Much more close is the internal
connection between some of them.
I. The Parable of the Unjust Steward. — Here we dis-
» st. Luke tinguish — 1. The illustrative Parable." 2. Its
^r1_9 moral.b 3. Its application in the combination
• w. 10-13 0f tiie moral with some of the features of the
Parable.0 1. The illustrative Parable."1 This may be said to
a w. i-8 converge to the point brought out in the conclud-
» ver. 8 jjjg verse : e the prudence which characterises the
dealings of the children of this world in regard to their
own generation — or, to translate the Jewish forms of ex
pression into our own phraseology, the wisdom with which
those who care not for the world to come choose the means
most effectual for attaining their worldly objects. It is
this prudence by which their aims are so effectually
secured, and it alone, which is set before ' the children of
light,' as that from which to learn. And the lesson is the
more practical, that those primarily addressed had hitherto
been among these men of the world. Let them learn
from the serpent its wisdom, and from the dove its harm-

394 Jesus the Messiah
lessness ; from the children of this world, their prudence
as regarded their generation, while, as children of the new
light, they must remember the higher aim for which that
prudence was to be employed. Thus would that Mamon
which is ' of unrighteousness ' and which certainly ' faileth,'
become to us treasure in the world to come — welcome
us there, and, so far from ' failing,' prove permanent-
welcome us in everlasting tabernacles. Thus also shall
we have made friends of the ' Mamon of unrighteousness,'
and that, which from its nature must fail, become eternal
gain. The connection between this Parable and what the
Lord had previously said concerning returning sinners, is
evidenced by the use of the term ' wasting ' in the charge
against the steward, just as the prodigal son had ' wasted '
»st. Luke his substance.3. Only, in the present instance^
KY' ls the property had been entrusted to his adminis
tration. As regards the owner, his designation as ' rich '
seems intended to mark how large was the property com
mitted to the steward. The ' steward ' was not, as in St.
Luke xii. 42-46, a slave, but one employed for the adminis
tration of the rich man's affairs, subject to notice of
» st. Luke dismissal. b He was accused — the term implying
xvi. 2, 3 malevolence, but not necessarily a false charge —
not of fraud, but of wasting his master's goods. And his
master seems to have convinced himself that the charge
was true, since he at once gives him notice of dismissal.
The latter is absolute, and not made dependent on the
' account of his stewardship,' which is only asked when he
gives up his office. Nor does the steward either deny the
charge or plead any extenuation. His great concern
rather is, during the time still left of his stewardship,
before he gives up his accounts, to provide for his future
support. The only alternative before him in the future is
that of manual labour or mendicancy. But for the former
he has not strength ; from the latter he is restrained by
shame. Then it is that his ' prudence ' suggests a device by
which, after his dismissal, he may without begging be

Parable of the Unjust Steward 395
received into the houses of those whom he has made
friends. It must be borne in mind that he is still steward,
and, as such, has full power of disposing of his master'3
affairs. When, therefore, he sends for one after another of
his master's debtors, and tells each to alter the sum in the
bond, he does not suggest to them forgery or fraud, but, in
remitting part of the debt, he acts, although unrighteously,
yet strictly within his rights. Thus neither the steward
nor the debtors could be charged with criminality, and the
master must have been struck with the cleverness of a man
who had thus secured a future provision by making friends,
so long as he had the means of so doing (ere his Mamon
of unrighteousness failed).
A few archaeological notices may help the interpretation
of details. It seems likely, that the 'bonds,' or rather
'writings,' of these debtors were written acknowledg
ments of debt. In the first case they are stated as ' a
hundred bath of oil,' in the second as ' a hundred cor of
wheat.' In regard to these quantities we have the pre
liminary difficulty, that three kinds of measurement were
in use in Palestine — that of the ' Wilderness,' or the
original Mosaic ; that of ' Jerusalem,' which was more
than, a fifth larger ; and that of Sepphoris, probably the
common Galilean measurement, which, in turn, was more
than a fifth larger than the Jerusalem measure. Assuming
the measurement to have been the Galilean, one bath
would have been equal to about 39 litres. In the Parable,
the first debtor was owing 100 of these bath, or, accor
ding to the Galilean measurement, about 3,900 litres of oil.
The value of the oil would probably amount to about 101.
of our money, and the remission of the steward, of course,
to 5Z. The second debtor owed ' a hundred cor of wheat ' —
that is, in dry measure, ten times the amount of the oil of
the first debtor, since the cor was ten ephah or bath, the
ephah three seah, the seah six qabh, and the qabh four log.
This must be borne in mind, since the dry and the fluid
measures were precisely the same ; and here, also, their
threefold computation (the ' Wilderness,' the ' Jerusalem/

396 Jesus the Messiah
and the ' Galilean ') obtained. Striking an average between
the various prices mentioned we infer that the hundred cor
would represent a debt of from 100L to 12U., and the re
mission of the steward (of 20 cor), a sum of 201. to 2t>l.
Comparatively small as these sums may seem, they are in
reality large, remembering the value of money in Palestine,
which, on a low computation, would be five times as great
as in our own country. These two debtors are only men
tioned as instances, and so the unjust steward would easily
secure for himself friends by the ' Mamon of unrighteous
ness' — the term Mamon, we may note, being derived from
the Syriac and Rabbinic word of the same kind (signifying
to apportion). Another point on which acquaintance with the history
and habits of those times throws light is, how the debtors
could so easily alter the sum mentioned in their respective
bonds. For the text implies that this, and not the writing
of a new bond, is intended ; since in that case the old one
would have been destroyed, and not given back for altera
tion. The materials on which the Jews wrote were of the
most diverse kind : leaves, as of olives, palms, the carob,
&c. ; the rind of the pomegranate, the shell of walnuts,
&c. ; the prepared skins of animals (leather and parch
ment) ; and the product of the papyrus, used long before
the time of Alexander the Great for the manufacture of
paper, and known in Talmudic writings by the same name.
But what interests us more, as we remember the ' tablet '
on which Zacharias wrote the name of the future Baptist,"
• st. Luke is *ne circumstance that it bears not only the
*• 63 same name, but that it seems to have been of
such common use in Palestine. It consisted of thin
pieces of wood fastened or strung together. The Mishnah
enumerates three kinds of them : those where the wood
was covered with papyrus, those where it was covered with
wax, and those where the wood was left plain to be written
on with ink. The latter was of different kinds. Black
ink was prepared of soot, or of vegetable or mineral sub
stances. Gum Arabic and Egyptian and vitriol seem also

Parable of the Unjust Steward 397
to have been used in writing. A pen made of reed was
employed, and the reference in an Apostolic Epistle a to
writing ' with ink and pen ' finds even its verbal
counterpart in the Midrash. Indeed, the public
' writer ' — a trade very common in the East — went about
with a reed-pen behind his ear, as badge of his em
ployment. With the reed-pen we ought to mention its
necessary accompaniments : the pen-knife, the inkstand
(which, when double, for black and red ink, was some
times made of earthenware), and the ruler — it being re
garded by the stricter set as unlawful to write any words
of Holy Writ on any unlined material, no doubt to ensure
correct writing and reading.
In all this we have not referred to the practice of
writing on leather specially prepared with salt and flour,
nor to the parchment in the stricter sense. For we are
here chiefly interested in the common mode of writing,
that on the ' tablet,' and especially on that covered with wax.
Indeed, a little vessel holding wax was generally attached
to it. On such a tablet they wrote, of course, not with a
reed-pen, but with a stylus, generally of iron. This in
strument consisted of two parts, which might be detached
from each other : the hard pointed ' writer,' and the
' blotter,' which was flat and thick for smoothing out letters
and words which had been written or rather graven in the
wax. There can be no question that acknowledgments of
debt, and other transactions, were ordinarily written down on
such wax-covered tablets ; for not only is direct reference
ma"de to it, but there are special provisions in regard to
documents where there are such erasures, or rather efface-
ments — such as, that they require to be noted in the docu
ment, under what conditions and how the witnesses are in
such cases to affix their signatures, &c. — just as there are
particular injunctions how witnesses who could not write
are to affix their mark.
2. We return to notice the moral of the Parable.b It is
» st. Luke put in these words : ' Make to yourselves friends out
XTi- 9 of [by means of] the Mamon of unrighteousness,
that, when it shall fail, they may receive you into ever-

398 Jesus the Messiah
lasting tabernacles.' From what has been previously stated
the meaning of these words offers little serious difficulty.
We recall the circumstance that they were primarily
addressed to converted publicans and sinners, to whom the
expression ' Mamon of unrighteousness ' — of which there
are close analogies, and even an exact transcript in the
Targum — would have an obvious meaning. Again, the
addition of the definite article leaves no doubt, that ' the
everlasting tabernacles' mean the well-known heavenly
home ; in which sense the term ' tabernacle ' is, indeed,
already used in the Old Testament. But as a whole we
regard it as an adaptation to the Parable of the well-
known Rabbinic saying, that there were certain graces of
which a man enjoyed the benefit here, while the capital,
so to speak, remained for the next world. And if a more
literal interpretation were demanded, we cannot but feel
the duty incumbent on those converted publicans, nay, in
a sense, on us all, to seek to make for ourselves of the
Mamon — be it of money, of knowledge, of strength, or
opportunities — which to many has, and to all may so
easily become that ' of unrighteousness ' — such lasting and
spiritual application : gain such friends by means of it,
that, l when it fails,' as fail it must when we die. all may
not be lost, but rather meet us in heaven. Thus would
each deed done for God with this Mamon become a friend
to greet us as we enter the eternal world.
3. The suitableness both of the Parable and of its appli
cation to the audience of Christ appears from its similarity
to what occurs in Jewish writings. We almost seem to
hear the very words of Christ : ' He that is faithful in
that which is least, is faithful also in much,' in this of the
Midrash : ' The Holy One, blessed be His Name, does not
give great things to a man until he has been tried in a
small matter ; ' which is illustrated by the history of Moses
and of David, who were both called to rule from the faithful
guiding of sheep.
Considering that the Jewish mind would be familiar
with such modes of illustration, there could have been no
misunderstanding of the words of Christ. These converted

Parable of Dives and Lazarus 399
publicans might think that theirs was a very narrow sphere
of service, one of little importance ; or else, like the Phari
sees, that faithful administration of the things of this world
(' the Mamon of unrighteousness ') had no bearing on the
possession of the true riches in the next world. In answer
to the first difficulty, Christ points out that the principle
of service is the same, whether applied to much or to little ;
that the one was, indeed, meet preparation for, and, in
• st. Luke truth, the test of the other." Therefore, if a man
=m.io failed in faithful service of God in his worldly
matters, could he look for the true Mamon, or riches of the
world to come ? Would not his unfaithfulness in the lower
stewardship imply unfitness for the higher ? And — still
in the language of the Parable — if they had not proved
faithful in mere stewardship, ' in that which was another's,'
could it be expected that they would be exalted from
stewardship to proprietorship ? And the ultimate applica
tion of all was this, that dividedness was impossible in the
service of God.b There is absolutely no distinc
tion to the disciple between spiritual matters and
worldly, and our common usage of the words secular and
spiritual is derived from a serious misunderstanding and
mistake. To the secular, nothing is spiritual ; and to the
spiritual, nothing is secular : No servant can serve two
Masters ; ye cannot serve God and Mamon.
II. The Parable of Dives and Lazarus." — Although
14-31 primarily spoken to the Pharisees, and not to
the disciples, yet, as will presently appear, it
was spoken for the disciples.
The words of Christ had touched more than one sore
spot in the hearts of the Pharisees. It is said that
they derided Him — literally, 'turned up their noses at
a Him.' d The mocking gestures, with which they
pointed to His publican-disciples, would be ac
companied by mocking words in which they would extol
and favourably compare their own claims and standing
with that of those new disciples of Christ. But one by
one their pleas were taken up and shown to be untenable.
They were persons who by outward righteousness and

400 Jesus the Messiah
pretences sought to appear just before men, but God
knew their hearts ; and that which was exalted among
men, their Pharisaic standing and standing aloof, was
¦st Luke abomination before Him.a These two points form
XTl- 15 the main subject of the Parable. Its first object
was to show the great difference between the ' before men '
and the 'before God;' between Dives as he appears to
men in this world, and as he is before God and will be in
the next world. Again, the second main object of the
Parable was to illustrate that their Pharisaic standing and
standing aloof — the bearing of Dives in reference to a
Lazarus — which was the glory of Pharisaism before men,
was an abomination before God. Yet a third object of the
Parable was in reference to their covetousness, the selfish
use which they made of their possessions — their Mamon.
But a selfish was an unrighteous use ; and, as such, would
meet with sorer retribution than in the case of an unfaith
ful steward. Christ then proceeds to combat these grounds of their
bearing, that they were the custodians and observers of
the Law and of the Prophets, while those poor sinners had
no claims upon the Kingdom of God. Yes — but the Law
and the Prophets had their terminus ad quern in John the
Baptist, who ' brought the good tidings of the Kingdom of
God.' Since then ' every one ' had to enter it by personal
b 0om st resolution and ' force.' b It was true that the
Matt xi. ii, Law could not fail in one tittle of it.c But,
remarks on notoriously and in everyday life, the Pharisees,
*stPLukeSe w^° ^us sP°ke of the- Law and appealed to it,
xvi. 16, 17 were the constant and open breakers of it. Wit
ness here their teaching and practice concerning
divorce, which really involved a breach of the seventh
commandment.3 Bearing in mind that we have here only the ' headings,'
or rather the ' stepping stones,' of Christ's argument — from
notes by a hearer at the time, which were afterwards given
to St. Luke — we perceive how closely connected are the
seemingly disjointed sentences which preface the Parable,
and how aptly they introduce it. The Parable itself is

Parable of Dives and Lazarus 401
strictly of the Pharisees and their relation to the ' publicans
and sinners ' whom they despised, and to whose steward
ship they opposed thoughts of their own proprietorship.
It tells in two directions: in regard to their selfish use of
the literal riches — their covetousness ; and in regard to
their selfish use of the figurative riches — their Pharisaic
righteousness, which left poor Lazarus at their door to the
dogs and to famine, not bestowing on him aught from their
supposed rich festive banquets.
It will be necessary in the interpretation of this Parable
to keep in mind that its Parabolic details must not be ex
ploited, nor doctrines of any kind derived from them,
either as to the character of the other world, the question
of the duration of future punishments, or the possible
moral improvement of those in Gehinnom. All such things
are foreign to the Parable, which is only a type and illus
tration of what is intended to be taught.
1. Dives and Lazarus before and after death.* — The
*st Luke Parable opens by presenting to us ' a rich man'
xvi. 16-22 'clothed in purple and byssus, joyously faring
every day in splendour.' Byssus and purple were the most
expensive materials, only inferior to silk, which if genuine
and unmixed — for at least three kinds of silk are mentioned
in ancient Jewish writings — was worth its weight in gold.
Quite in accordance with this luxuriousness was the
feasting every day, the description of which conveys the
impression of company, merriment, and splendour. This
is intended to set forth the selfish use which this man made
of his wealth, and to point the contrast of his bearing to
wards Lazarus. Here also every detail is meant to mark
the pitiableness of the case, as it stood out before Dives.
The very name — not often mentioned in any other real,
and never in any other Parabolic story — tells it : Lazarus,
Laazar, a common abbreviation of Flazar, as it were, ' God
help him ! ' Then we read that he ' was cast ' at his gate
way, as if to mark that the bearers were glad to throw
down their unwelcome burden. Laid there, he was in full
view of the Pharisee as he went out or came in, or sat in
his courtyard. And as he looked at him, he was covered
D D

402 Jesus the Messiah
with a loathsome disease ; as he heard him, he uttered a
piteous request to be filled with what fell from the rich
man's table. Yet nothing was done to help his bodily
misery, and, as the ' word ' desiring ' implies, his longing
for the ' crumbs ' remained unsatisfied. So selfish in the
use of his wealth was Dives, so wretched Lazarus in his
view ; so self-satisfied and unpitying was the Pharisee, so
miserable in his sight and so needy the publican and
sinner. ' Yea, even the dogs came and licked his sores ' —
for it is not to be understood as an alleviation, but as an
aggravation of his ills, that he was left to the dogs, which
in Scripture are always represented as unclean animals.
So it was before men. But how was it before God ?
There the relation was reversed. The beggar died — no
more of him here. But the Angels ' carried him away
into Abraham's bosom.' Leaving aside for the present the
Jewish teaching concerning the ' after death,' we are struck
with the sublime simplicity of the figurative language used
by Christ, as compared with the wild and sensuous fancies
of later Rabbinic teaching on the subject. It is, indeed,
true that we must not look in this Parabolic language for
Christ's teaching about the ' after death.' On the other
hand, while He would say nothing that was essentially
divergent from the purest views entertained on the subject
at that time, yet whatever He did say must, when stripped
of its Parabolic details, be consonant with fact. Thus, the
carrying upof the soul ofthe righteous by Angels is certainly
in accordance with Jewish teaching, though stripped of all
legendary details, such as about the number and the greetings
ofthe Angels. But it is also fully in accordance with Chris
tian thought ofthe ministry of Angels. Again, as regards
the expression ' Abraham's bosom,' it occurs, although not
frequently, in Jewish writings. On the other hand, the appeal
to Abraham as our father is so frequent, his presence and
merits, are so constantly invoked ; notably, he is so expressly
designated as he who receives the penitent into Paradise, that
we can see how congruous, especially to the higher Jewish
teaching which dealt not in coarsely sensuous descriptions
of Paradise, the phrase ' Abraham's bosom ' must have been.

Parable of Dives and Lazarus 403
2. Dives and Lazarus after death : a The ' great con-
• st Luke trast ' fully realised, and how to enter into the
xvj. 23-26 Kingdom. — Here also the main interest centres
in Dives. He also has died and been buried. Thus ends
all his exaltedness before men. The next scene is in Hades
or Sheol, the place of the disembodied spirits before the
final Judgment. It consists of two divisions : the one of
consolation, with all the faithful gathered unto Abraham as
their father ; the other of fiery torment. Thus far in ac
cordance with the general teaching of the New Testament.
As regards the details, they evidently represent the views
current at the time among the Jews. According to them,
the Garden of Eden and the Tree of Life were the abode of
the blessed. Nay, in common belief, the words of Gen.
ii. 10 : ' a river went out of Eden to water the garden,' in
dicated that this Eden was distinct from, and superior to, the
garden in which Adam had been originally placed. With
reference to it, we read that the righteous in Paradise see
the wicked in Gehinnom, and rejoice ; and, similarly, that
the wicked in Gehinnom see the righteous sitting beatified
in Paradise, and their souls are troubled. Again, it is
consonant with what were the views of the Jews, that con
versations could be held between dead persons, of which
several legendary instances are given in the Talmud. The
torment, especially of thirst, of the wicked, is repeatedly
mentioned in Jewish writings. The righteous is seen be
side delicious springs, and the wicked with his tongue
parched at the brink of a river, the waves of which are
constantly receding from him. But there is this very
marked and characteristic contrast, that in the Jewish
legend the beatified is a Pharisee, while the sinner tor
mented with thirst is a Publican ! Above all, we notice
that there is no analogy in Rabbinic writings to the state
ment in the Parable, that there is a wide and impassable
gulf between Paradise and Gehenna.
To return to the Parable. When we read that Dives
in torments ' lifted up his eyes,' it was, no doubt, for help,
or, at least, alleviation. Then he first perceived and re
cognised the reversed relationship. The text emphatically D D 2

404 Jesus the Messiah
repeats here : ' And he,' — literally, this one, as if now for
the first time he realised, but only to misunderstand and
misapply it, how easily superabundance might minister
relief to extreme need — ' calling (viz. upon = invoking)
said : " Father Abraham, have mercy upon me, and send
Lazarus.'" The invocation of Abraham, as having the
power, and of Abraham as ' Father,' was natural on the
part of a Jew. All the more telling is it, that the rich
Pharisee should behold in the bosom of Abraham, whose
child he specially claimed to be, what, in his sight, had
been poor Lazarus, covered with moral sores, and, re
ligiously speaking, thrown down outside his gate. And it
was the climax of the contrast that he should now have to
invoke, and that in vain, his ministry, seeking it at the
hands of Abraham. And here we also recall the previous
Parable about making, ere it fail, friends by means of the
Mamon of unrighteousness, that they may welcome us in
the everlasting tabernacles.
It should be remembered that Dives now limits his re
quest to the humblest dimensions, asking only that Lazarus
might be sent to dip the tip of his finger in the cooling
liquid, and thus give him even the smallest relief. To this
Abraham replies, though in a tone of pity : ' Child,' yet
decidedly — showing him, first, the rightness of the present
position of things ; and, secondly, the impossibility of any
alteration, such as he had asked. Dives had in his life
time received his good things ; those had been his, he had
chosen them as his part, and used them for self, without
communicating of them. And Lazarus had received evil
things. Now Lazarus was comforted and Dives in
torment. It was the right order — not that Lazarus was
comforted because in this world he had suffered, nor yet
that Dives was in torment because in this world he had
had riches. But Lazarus received there the comfort which
had been refused to him on earth, and the man who had
made this world his good, and obtained there his portion,
of which he had refused even the crumbs to the most needy,
now received the meet reward of his tmpitying, unloving,
selfish life. But, besides all this, Dives had asked what

Parable of Dives and Lazarus 405
was impossible : no intercourse could be held between
Paradise and Gehenna, and on this account a great and
impassable chasm existed between the two, so that even if
they would, they could not pass from heaven to hell, nor
yet from hell to those in bliss.
• st. Luke 3. Application of the Parable,0, showing how
xvi. 27-31 ^g jjaw an(j thg Prophets cannot fail, and how
we must now press into the Kingdom.
We now find Dives pleading that Lazarus might be
sent to his five brothers, who, as we infer, were of the same
disposition and life as himself had been, to ' testify unto
them' — the word implying earnest testimony. Presum
ably, what he so asked to be attested was, that he, Dives,
was in torment ; and the expected effect, not of the testi
mony but of the mission of Lazarus,b whom they
are supposed to have known, was that these his
brothers might not come to the same place. At the same
time, the request seems to imply an attempt at self-justi
fication, as if during his life he had not had sufficient
warning. Accordingly, the reply of Abraham is no longer
couched in a tone of pity, but implies stern rebuke of Dives.
They need no witness-bearer : they have Moses and the
Prophets, let them hear them. If testimony be needed,
theirs has been given and it is sufficient — a reply this,
which would specially appeal to the Pharisees. And when
Dives, now, perhaps, as much bent on self-justification as
on the message to his brothers, remonstrates that although
they had not received such testimony, yet ' if one come to
them from the dead,' they would repent, the final, and as
history has shown since the Resurrection of Christ, the true
answer is, that ' if they hear not [give not hearing to]
Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be influenced
[moved : their intellects to believe, their wills to repent]
if one rose from the dead.'
And here the Parable, and the warning to the Pharisees,
abruptly break off. When next we hear the Master's
voice,0 it is in loving application to the disciples
' on. xvu. Q£ gome 0f tjje lessons which were implied in what
He had spoken to the Pharisees.

406 Jesus the Messiah

CHAPTER LXV.
THE THREE LAST PARABLES OF THE PERSIAN SERIES: THE
UNRIGHTEOUS JUDGE — THE PHARISEE AND THE PUBLICAN
— THE UNMERCIFUL SERVANT.
(St. Luke xviii. 1-14 ; St. Matt, xviii. 23-35.)
We must bear in mind that between the Parable of
Dives and Lazarus and that of the Unjust Judge, most
momentous events had intervened. These were : the visit
of Jesus to Bethany, the raising of Lazarus, the Jerusalem
¦ st John council against Christ, the flight to Ephraim ,a a
^ brief stay and preaching there, andthecommence-
* st. Luke ment of His last journey to Jerusalem.b During
xvn. 11 £hig jag^ gjow progress from the borders of Galilee
« st Luke to Jerusalem, we suppose the Discourses" and
"' the Parable about the Coming of the Son of Man
to have been spoken. And although such utterances will
be best considered in connection with Christ's later and
full Discourses about ' The Last Things,' we readily per
ceive, even at this stage, how, when He set His Face
towards Jerusalem, there to be offered up, thoughts and
words concerning the ' End ' may have entered into all
His teaching.
The most common but also the most serious mistake
in reference to the Parable of ' the Unjust Judge,' is to
regard it as implying that, just as the poor widow
insisted in her petition and was righted because of her
insistence, so the disciples should persist in prayer, and
would be heard because of their insistence. The inference
from the Parable is not that the Church will be ultimately
vindicated because she perseveres in prayer, but that she
so perseveres, because God will surely right her cause : it
is not that insistence in prayer is the cause of its answer,
but that the certainty of that which is asked for should
lead to continuance in prayer, even when all around seems
to forbid the hope of answer. This is the lesson to be
learned from a comparison of the Unjust Judge with the

Parable of the Unjust Judge 407
Just and Holy God in His dealings with His own. If the
widow persevered, knowing that although no other con
sideration, human or Divine, would influence the Unjust
Judge, yet her insistence would secure its object, how much
more should we ' not faint,' but continue in prayer, who
are appealing to God, Who has His people and His cause
at heart, even though He delay — remembering also that
even this is for their sakes who pray ! And this is fully
expressed in the introductory words : ' He spake also a
Parable to them with reference to the need be of their
always praying, and not fainting.'
If it be asked, how the conduct of the Unjust Judge
could serve as illustration of what might be expected from
God, we answer, that the lesson in the Parable is not from
the similarity, but from the contrast between the Unrigh
teous human and the Righteous Divine Judge. ' Hear
what the Unrighteous Judge saith. But God [mark the
emphatic position of the word], shall He not indeed vin
dicate [the injuries of, do judgment for] His elect . . . ?'
In truth, this mode of argument is perhaps the most
common in Jewish Parables, and occurs on almost every
page of ancient Rabbinic commentaries. It is called the
' light and heavy,' and answers to our reasoning a fortiori
orde minor e ad majus (from the less to the greater). Accord
ing to the Rabbis, ten instances of such reasoning occur
in the Old Testament itself.1 In the present Parable the
reasoning would be : 'If the Judge of Unrighteousness '
said that he would vindicate, shall not the Judge of all
Righteousness do judgment on behalf of His Elect ? In
fact, we have an exact Rabbinic parallel to the thought
underlying, and the lesson derived from, this Parable.
When describing how at the preaching of Jonah Nineveh
repented and cried to God, His answer to the loud persis
tent cry of the people is thus explained : ' The bold (he who
is unabashed) conquers even a wicked person [to grant him
his request], how much more the All-Good of the world ! '
1 These ten passages are : Gen. xliv. 8 ; Exod. vi. 9, 12 ; Numb. xii.
14 ; Deut. xxxi. 27 ; two instances in Jerem. xii. 5 ; 1 Sam. xxiii. 3 ;
Prov. xi. 31 ; Esth. ix. 12 ; and Ezek. xv. 5.

408 Jesus the Messiah
The Parable opens by laying down as a general principle
the necessity and duty of the disciples always to pray —
the precise meaning being defined by the opposite, or
limiting clause : ' not to faint,' that is, not ' to become
weary.' The word ' always ' must be understood in the sense
of under all circumstances, however apparently adverse,
when it might seem as if an answer could not come, and
we should therefore be in danger of ' fainting ' or becoming
weary. Thus it is argued even in Jewish writings, that a
man should never be deterred from, nor cease praying — the
illustration being from the case of Moses, who knew that it
was decreed he should not enter the land, and yet continued
praying about it.
The Parable introduces to us a Judge in a city, and a
widow. Except where a case was voluntarily submitted
for arbitration rather than judgment, or judicial advice was
sought of a sage, one man could not have formed a Jewish
tribunal. Besides, his mode of speaking and acting is
inconsistent with such a hypothesis. He must therefore
have been one of the Judges, or municipal authorities,
appointed by Herod or the Romans — perhaps a Jew, but
not a Jewish Judge. Possibly, he may have been a police-
magistrate, or one who had some function of that kind
delegated to him. We know that, at least in Jerusalem,
there were two stipendiary magistrates, whose duty it was
to see to the observance of all police-regulations and the
prevention of crime. At any rate there were in every
locality police-officials, who watched over order and law.
Frequent instances are mentioned of gross injustice and
bribery in regard to the non-Jewish Judges in Palestine.
It is to such a Judge that the Parable refers — one who
* st. Luke was avowedly a inaccessible to the highest motive,
xviii. 4 the fear 0f God, and not even restrained by the
lower consideration of regard for public opinion. It is an
extreme case, intended to illustrate the exceeding unlikeli
hood of justice being done. For the same purpose, the
party seeking justice at his hands is described as a poor,
unprotected widow. This widow came to the Unjust
Judge (the imperfect tense in the original indicating

Parable of the Pharisee and the Publican 409
repeated coming), with the urgent demand to be vindicated
of her adversary : that is, that the Judge should make
legal inquiry, and by a decision set her right as against
him at whose hands she was suffering wrong. For reasons
of his own he would not ; and this continued for a while.
At last, not from any higher principle, nor even from regard
for public opinion — both of which, indeed, as he avowed to
himself, had no weight with him — he complied with her
request, as the text (literally translated) has it : ' Yet at any
¦ Comp.st ra*e a because this widow troubleth me, I will do
Luke xi 8 justice for her, lest, in the end, coming she bruise
me ' — do personal violence to me, attack me bodily. Then
follows the grand inference from it : If the ' Judge of
Unrighteousness ' speak thus, shall not the Judge of all
Righteousness — God — do judgment, vindicate [by His
Coming to judgment and so setting right the wrong done
to His Church] ' His Elect, which cry to Him day and
night, although He suffer long on account of them ' — delay
His final interposition of judgment and mercy, and that,
not as the Unjust Judge, but for their own sakes, in order
that the number of the Elect may all be gathered in, and
they fully prepared ?
2. The Parable of the Pharisee and the Publican, which
b st. Lnke follows,b is only internally connected with that of
x™- s-1* ' the Unjust Judge.' It is not of unrighteous
ness, but of self-righteousness — and this, both in its posi
tive and negative aspects : as trust in one's own state, and
as contempt of others. Again, it has also this connection
with the previous Parable, that, whereas that of the Un
righteous Judge pointed to continuance, this to humility
in prayer. Probably something had taken place which is not
recorded, to occasion this Parable, which, if not directly
addressed to the Pharisees, is to such as are of Pharisaic
spirit. It brings before us two men going up to the
Temple — whether ' at the hour of prayer,' or otherwise is
not stated. Remembering that, with the exception of the
Psalms for the day and the interval for a certain prescribed
prayer, the service in the Temple was entirely sacrificial,

410 Jesus the Messiah
we are thankful for such glimpses which show that, both in
the time of public service, and still more at other times,
the Temple was made the place of private prayer.a On
»Comp. st. the present occasion the two men, who went to-
37^ Acts il. gather to the entrance of the Temple, represented
46 ; v. 12, 42 the two religious extremes in Jewish society.
To the entrance of the Temple, but no farther, did the
Pharisee and the Publican go together. Within the sacred
enclosure — before God, where man should least have made
it, began their separation. ' The Pharisee put himself by
himself, and prayed thus : 0 God, I thank Thee that I am
not as the rest of men — extortioners, unjust, adulterers —
nor also as this Publican [there].' Never, perhaps, were
words of thanksgiving spoken in less thankfulness than
these. They referred not to what he had received, but to
the sins of others by which they were separated from him,
and to his own meritorious deeds by which he was separated
from them. Thus his words 'expressed what his attitude
indicated; and both were the expression, not of thank
fulness, but of boastfulness. It was the same as their
bearing at feasts and in public places ; the same as their
contempt and condemnation of ' the rest of men,' and espe
cially ' the publicans ; ' the same that even their designation
— ' Pharisees,' ' Separated ones ' — implied. The ' rest of men '
might be either the Gentiles, or more probably, the common
unlearned people, whom they accused or suspected of every
possible sin, according to their fundamental principle:
'The unlearned cannot be pious.' And it must be added
that, as we read the Liturgy of the Synagogue, we come
ever and again upon such and similar thanksgiving — that
they are ' not as the rest of men.'
But this was not all. From looking down upon others
the Pharisee proceeded to look up to himself. Here
Talmudic writings offer parallelisms. They are full of
references to the merits of the just, to ' the merits and
righteousness of the fathers,' or else of Israel in taking upon
itself the Law. And for the sake of these merits and of that
righteousness, Israel, as a nation, expects general accept
ance, pardon, and temporal benefits. All spiritual benefits

Parable of the Pharisee and the Publican 411
Israel as a nation, and the pious in Israel individually,
possess already, nor do they need to get them from
¦heaven, since they can and do work them out for
themselves. And here the Pharisee in the Parable sig
nificantly dropped even the form of thanksgiving. The
religious performances which he enumerated are those
which mark the Pharisee among the Pharisees: 'I fast
twice a week, and I give tithes of all that I acquire.' The
first of these was in pursuance of the custom of some
' more righteous than the rest,' who, as previously ex
plained, fasted on the second and fifth days of the week.
But, perhaps, we should not forget that these were also
the regular market days, when the country-people came to
the towns, and there were special Services in the Syna
gogues, and the local Sanhedrin met — so that these saints
in Israel would, at the same time, attract and receive
special notice for their fasts. As for the boast about
giving tithes of all that he acquired — and not merely of
his land, fruits, &c. — it has already been explained
that this was one of the distinctive characteristics of ' the
sect of the Pharisees.' Their practice in this respect may
be summed up in these words of the Mishnah : ' fie tithes
all that he eats, all that he sells, and all that he buys,
and he is not a guest with an unlearned person [so as not
possibly to partake of what may have been left untithed].'
Although it may not be necessary, yet a quotation
will help to show how truly this picture of the Pharisee
was taken from life. Thus, the following prayer of a
Rabbi is recorded : ' I thank Thee, 0 Lord my God, that
Thou hast put my part with those who sit in the Academy,
and not with those who sit at the corners [money-changers
and traders]. For I rise early, and they rise early : I rise
early to the words of the Law, and they to vain things.
I labour and they labour : I labour and receive a reward,
they labour and receive no reward. I run and they run :
I run to the life of the world to come, and they to the pit
of destruction.' We also recall such painful sayings as
those of Rabbi Simeon ben Jochai, to which reference has
already been made — notably this, that if there were only

412 Jesus the Messiah
two righteous men in the world, he and his son were
these ; and if only one, it was he !
The second picture, or scene, in the Parable sets before
us the reverse state of feeling from that of the Pharisee.
Only we must bear in mind, that as the Pharisee is not
blamed for his giving of thanks, nor yet for his good-
doing, real or imaginary, so the prayer of the Publican is
not answered because he was a sinner. In both cases
what decides the rejection or acceptance of the prayer is,
whether or not it was prayer. The Pharisee retains the
righteousness which he had claimed for himself, whatever
its value; and the Publican receives the righteousness
which he asks: both have what they desire before God.
If the Pharisee ' stood by himself,' apart from others, so did
the Publican : ' standing afar off,' viz. from the Pharisee
— quite far back, as became one who felt himself unworthy
to mingle with God's people. In accordance with this :
' He would not so much as lift his eyes to heaven,' as men
generally do in prayer, 'but smote his breast' — as the
Jews still do in the most solemn part of their confession
on the Day of Atonement — ' saying, God be merciful to
me the sinner.' The one appealed to himself for justice,
the other appealed to God for mercy.
Once more, as between the Pharisee and the Publican,
the seeming and the real, that before men and before God,
there is sharp contrast ; and the lesson which Christ had so
often pointed is again set forth, not only in regard to the
feelings which the Pharisees entertained, but also to the
glad tidings of pardon to the lost : ' I say unto you, This
man went down to his house justified above the other.'
In other words, the sentence of righteousness as from God
with which the Publican went home was above, far better
than, the sentence of righteousness as pronounced by
himself, with which the Pharisee returned. This saying
casts also light on such comparisons as between 'the
righteous ' elder brother and the pardoned prodigal, or the
ninety-nine tbat ' need no repentance ' and the lost that
was found, or on such an utterance as this : ' Except your
righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the Scribes

Parable of the Unmerciful Servant 413
and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the Kingdom
¦ st Matt of Heaven.' a And so the Parable ends with
v- 20 the general principle, so often enunciated : ' For
every one that exalteth himself shall be abased ; and he
that humbleth himself shall be exalted.' And with this
fully accords the instruction of Christ to His disciples
concerning the reception of little children, which im-
•> st. Luke mediately follows.1*
• st Matt7 3. The parable with which this series closes —
xviii. 23-35 that ofthe Unmerciful Servant ° — can be treated
more briefly, since the circumstances leading up to it have
already been explained. We are now reaching the point
where the solitary narrative of St, Luke again merges with
those of the other Evangelists. The Parable of the Un
merciful Servant belongs to the Persean series, and closes it.
Its connection with the Parable of the Pharisee and
the Publican lies in this, that Pharisaic self-righteousness
and contempt of others may easily lead to unforgiveness
and unmercifulness, which are utterly incompatible with
a sense of our own need of Divine mercy and forgiveness.
And so in the Gospel of St. Matthew this Parable follows
on the exhibition of a self-righteous, unmerciful spirit,
which would reckon up how often we should forgive,
forgetful of our own need of absolute and unlimited pardon
d st. Matt. a* tne hands of Godd — a spirit, moreover, of
xviii. 15-22 harshness, that could look down upon Christ's
' little ones,' in forgetfulness of our own need perhaps of
cutting off even a right hand or foot to enter the Kingdom
°f Heaven.e
• St. Matt . . . _ . .
xviii. 1-14, In studying this Parable, we must once more
passim remind ourselves of the general canon of the need
of distinguishing between what is essential in a Parable,
as directly bearing on its lessons, and what is merely intro
duced for the sake of the Parable itself, to give point to
its main teaching.
Keeping apart the essentials of the Parable from the
accidents of its narration, we have three distinct scenes, or
parts, in this story. In the first, our new feelings towards
our brethren are traced to our new relation towards God,

414 Jesus the Messiah
as the proper spring of all our thinking, speaking, and
acting. Notably, as regards forgiveness, we are to re
member the Kingdom of God : ' Therefore has the Kingdom
of God become like ' — ' therefore ' : in order that thereby we
may learn the duty of absolute, not limited, forgiveness —
not that of ' seven,' but of ' seventy times seven.' And
now this likeness of the Kingdom of Heaven is set forth
in the Parable of ' a man, a King ' (as the Rabbis would
have expressed it, ' a king of flesh and blood'), who would
' make his reckoning ' ' with his servants ' — not his bond
servants, but probably the governors of his provinces, or
those who had charge of the revenue and finances. ' But
after he had begun to reckon' — not necessarily at the
very beginning of it — ' one was brought to him, a debtor of
ten thousand talents.' Reckoning them only as Attic
talents this would amount to the enormous sum of about
two and a quarter millions sterling. No wonder that one
who during his administration had been guilty of such
peculation, or else culpable negligence, should, as the
words ' brought to him ' imply, have been reluctant to
face the king. The Parable further implies that the
debt was admitted ; and hence, in the course of" ordinary
judicial procedure — according to the Law of Moses,*
._ .... and the universal code of antiquity — that
Lev.'xxv.' ' 'servant,' with his family and all his property,
was ordered to be sold, and the returns paid
into the treasury.
It is not suggested that the ' payment ' thus made would
have met his debt. This trait belongs not to the essentials of
the Parable. Nor does the promise : ' I will pay thee all.'
In truth, the narrative takes no notice of this, but on the
other hand, states : ' But, being moved with compassion,
the lord of that servant released him [from the bondage
decreed, and which had virtually begun with his sentence],
and the debt forgave he him.' A more accurate repre
sentation of our relation to God could not be made. We
are the debtors to our heavenly King, Who has entrusted
to us the administration of what is His, and which we
have purloined or misused, incurring an unspeakable debt,

Parable of the Unmerciful Servant 415
which we can never discharge, and of which, in the course
of justice, unending bondage, misery, and ruin would be
the proper sequence. But if in humble repentance we
cast ourselves at His Feet, He is ready in infinite com
passion, not only to release us from meet punishment, but —
0 blessed revelation of the Gospel ! — to forgive us the debt.
It is this new relationship to God which must be the
foundation and the rule for our new relationship towards
our fellow-servants. And this brings us to the second
part, or scene, in this Parable. Here the lately pardoned
servant finds one of his fellow-servants, who owes him the
small sum of 100 dinars, about 4<l. 10s. In the first case,
it was the servant brought to account, and that before the
king; here it is a servant finding, and that his fellow-
servant ; in the first case he owed talents, in the second
dinars (a six-thousandth part of them) ; in the first, ten
thousand talents; in the second, one hundred dinars.
Again, in the first case payment is only demanded, while
in the second the man takes his fellow-servant by the
throat — a not uncommon mode of harshness on the part of
Roman creditors — and says : ' Pay what,' or, according to
the better reading, ' if thou owest anything.' And lastly,
although the words of the second debtor are almost the
same as those in which the first debtor besought the king's
patience, yet no mercy is shown, but he is ' cast ' [with
violence] into prison, till he have paid what was due.
It can scarcely be necessary to show the incongruous-
ness or the guilt of such conduct. But this is the object
of the third part, or scene, in the Parable. Here the other
servants are introduced as exceedingly sorry, no doubt
about the fate of their fellow-servant. Then they come to
their lord, and ' clearly set forth,' or ' explain ' what had
happened, upon which the Unmerciful Servant is summoned,
and addressed as ' wicked servant,' not only because he had
not followed the example of his lord, but because, after
having received such immense favour as the entire remis
sion of his debt on entreating his master, to have refused
to the entreaty of his fellow- servant even a brief delay in
the payment of a small sum argued want of all mercy and

416 Jesus the Messiah
positive wickedness. And the words are followed by the
manifestation of righteous anger. As he has done, so is it
done to him — and this is the final application of the Para-
•stMatt hi0-" He is delivered 'to the tormentors: 'in other
xviii. 35 words, he is sent to the hardest and severest prison,
there to remain till he should pay all that was due by him
— that is, in the circumstances, for ever. And here we may
remark that as sin has incurred a debt which can never
be discharged, so the banishment, or rather the loss and
misery of the sinner, will be endless.
We pause to notice how near Rabbinism has come to
this Parable, and yet how far it is from its sublime teach
ing. At the outset we recall that unlimited forgiveness —
or, indeed, for more than the farthest limit of three times
— was not the doctrine of Rabbinism. It did, indeed,
teach how freely God would forgive Israel, and it introduces
a similar Parable of a debtor appealing to his creditor, and
receiving the fullest and freest release of mercy, and it also
draws from it the moral, that man should similarly show
mercy ; but it is not the mercy of forgiveness from the
heart, but of forgiveness of money debts to the poor, or of
various injuries, and the mercy of benevolence and benefi
cence to the wretched. But, however beautifully Rabbin
ism at times speaks on the subject, the Gospel conception
of forgiveness, even as that of mercy, could only come by
experience of the infinitely higher forgiveness, and the in
comparably greater mercy, which the pardoned sinner has
received in Christ from our Father in fieaven.

CHAPTER LXVI.

CHRISTS DISCOURSES IN PERSEA— CLOSE OF THE PERSIAN
MINISTRY.
(St. Luke xiii. 23-30, 31-35; xiv. 1-11, 25-35; xvii. 1-10.)
From the Parables we now turn to such Discourses of the
Lord as belong to this period of His Ministry. Their con
sideration may be the more brief, that throughout we find
points of correspondence with previous or later portions of
His teaching.

Discourses in Peraia 417
1. The words of our Lord, as recorded by St. Luke," are
ostLuke not spoken, as in 'The Sermon on the Mount,' b
'rer2240 *n connection with His teaching to His disciples,
oomp. st. but are in reply to a question addressed to Him
Matt vii. 13, , i_i_i j. ^- n ,!
14 ; w. 25- by some one — probably, a representative of the
It Sf Vii. Pharisees : ° ' Lord, are they few, the saved ones
«si3aiso [ph&t are being saved] ?' We can scarcely
stLukexui. doubt that the word 'saved' bore reference, not
to the eternal state of the soul, but to admission
to the benefits of the Kingdom of God — the Messianic
Kingdom, with its privileges and its judgments, such as
the Pharisees understood it. The question, whether 'few'
were to be saved, could not have been put from the
Pharisaic point of view, if understood of personal salva
tion ; while, on the other hand, if taken as applying to
part in the near-expected Messianic Kingdom, it has its
distinct parallel in the Rabbinic statement, that, as re
garded the days of the Messiah (His Kingdom), it would
be similar to what it had been at the entrance into the
land of promise, when only two (Joshua and Caleb) out
of all that generation were allowed to have part in it.
As regards entrance into the Messianic Kingdom,
this Pharisee, and those whom he represented, are told
that the Kingdom was not theirs, as a matter of course —
their question as to the rest of the world being only
whether few or many would share in it — but that all must
' struggle [agonise] to enter in through the narrow door.'
'When once the Master of the house is risen up,' to
welcome His guests to the banquet, and has shut to the door,
while they standing without vainly call upon Him to
open it, and He replies : ' I know you not whence ye are,'
would they begin to remind Him of those covenant-privi
leges on which, as Israel after the flesh, they had relied
(' we have eaten and drunk in Thy Presence, and Thou hast
taught in our streets'). To this He would reply by a
repetition of His former words, grounding alike His
disavowal and His refusal to open on their inward contra
riety to the King and His Kingdom : ' Depart from Me,
all ye workers of iniquity.' It was a banquet to the
E E

41 8 Jesus the Mi.ssiah
friends of the King : the inauguration of His Kingdom.
When they found the door shut, they would indeed knock,
in the confident expectation that their claims would at
once be recognised, and they admitted. And when the
Master of the house did not recognise them as they had
expected, and they reminded Him of their outward connec
tion, He only repeated the same words as before, since it
was not outward but inward relationship that qualified the
guests, and theirs was not friendship, but antagonism to
Him. Terrible would then be their sorrow and anguish,
when they would see their own patriarchs (' we have
eaten and drunk in Thy Presence ') and their own prophets
(' Thou hast taught in our streets ') within, and yet them
selves were excluded from what was peculiarly theirs — ¦
while from all parts of the heathen world the welcome
guests would flock to the joyous feast. And here pre-
•comp. also eminently would the saying hold good, in oppo-
xix.^otxx. sition to Pharisaic claims and self-righteousness :
16 ' There are last which shall be first, and there are
first which shall be last.' a
2. The next Discourse, noted by St. Luke,b had been
* st Luke spoken ' in that very day,' as the last. It was
xm. 31-35 occasioned by a pretended warning o/ ' certain
of the Pharisees' to depart from Persea, which, with
Galilee, was the territory of Herod Antipas, as else the
Tetrarch would kill Him. Probably the danger of which
these Pharisees spoke might have been real enough, and
from their secret intrigues with Herod they might have
special reasons for knowing of such. But their suggestion
that Jesus should depart could only have proceeded from
a wish to get Him out of Perasa, where, evidently, His
works of healing were largely attracting and influencing
the people.But if our Lord would not be deterred by the fears of
°st John His disciples from going into Judasa,0 feeling
^ 8 that each one had his appointed working day, in
the light of which he was safe, and during the brief dura
tion of which he was bound to ' walk,' far less would He
recede before His enemies. Pointing to their secret

Discourses in Per a? a 419
intrigues, He bade them, if they chose, go back to ' that
fox,' and give to his low cunning, and to all similar
attempts to hinder or arrest His Ministry, what would be
a decisive answer, since it unfolded what He clearly fore
saw in the near future. ' Depart ? ' — yes, ' depart ' ye to
tell ' that fox,' I have still a brief and an appointed time
to work, and then ' I am perfected,' in the sense in which
we all readily understand the expression, as applying to His
Work and Mission. ' I know that at the goal is death :
yet not at the hands of Herod, but in Jerusalem, the
slaughter-house of them that " teach in her streets." '
But the thought of Jerusalem — of what it was, what
it might have been, and what would come to it — may well
have forced from the lips of Him Who wept over it a cry
• st Luke of mingled anguish, love, and warning." It may
»st Matt De that these very words, which are reported by
xxiii. 37-39 gt_ Matthew in another connection,15 are here
quoted by St. Luke, because they fully express the thought
to which Christ here first gave distinct utterance. But
some such words, we can scarcely doubt, He did speak
even now, when pointing to His near Decease in
Jerusalem. 3. The next in order ofthe Discourses recorded by St.
' st. Luke Luke c is that which prefaced the Parable of ' the
^chapter Great Supper,' expounded in a previous chapter.4
k™- A very brief commentation will here suffice. It
appears that the Lord accepted the invitation to a Sabbath-
meal in the house ' of one of the Rulers of the Pharisees '
— perhaps one of the Rulers of the Synagogue in which
they had just worshipped, and where Christ may have
taught. His acceptance was made use of to ' watch Him.'
The man with the dropsy had, no doubt, been introduced
for a treacherous purpose, although it is not necessary to
suppose that he himself had been privy to it. On the
other hand, it is characteristic of the gracious Lord, that,
with full knowledge of their purpose, He sat down with
such companions, and that He did His Work of power and
love unrestrained by their evil thoughts. But, even so,
He must turn their wickedness also to good account. Yet

420 Jesus the Messiah
we mark that He first dismissed the man healed of tho
» st. Luke dropsy before He reproved the Pharisees.4 It
3dv-4 was better so — for the sake of the guests, and
for the healed man himself.
And after his departure the Lord first spake to them,
as was His wont, concerning their misapplication of the
Sabbath-Law, to which, indeed, their own practice gave
the lie. They deemed it unlawful ' to heal ' on the Sabbath-
day, though, when He read their thoughts and purposes as
against Him, they would not answer His question on the
point. And yet, if ' a son,1 or even an ox,' of any of them
had ' fallen into a pit,' they would have found some valid
legal reason for pulling him out ! Their Sabbath-feast,
and their invitation to Him, when thereby they, wished to
lure Him to evil — and, indeed, their much-boasted hospi
tality — was all characteristic, only external show, with
utter absence of all real love ; only self-assumption, pride,
and self-righteousness, together with contempt of all who
were regarded as religiously or intellectually beneath them.
Even among themselves there was strife about ' the first
places ' — such as, perhaps, Christ had on that occasion
witnessed, amidst mock professions of humility, when,
perhaps, the master of the house had afterwards, in true
Pharisaic fashion, proceeded to re-arrange the guests ac
cording to their supposed dignity. And even the Rabbis
had given advice to the same effect as Christ's b —
and of this His words may have reminded them.
But further — addressing him who had so treacherously
bidden Him to this feast, Christ showed how the principle
of Pharisaism consisted in self-seeking, to the necessary
exclusion of all true love. This self-righteousness appeared
even in what, perhaps, they most boasted of — their hos
pitality. For if in an earlier Jewish record we read the
beautiful words : ' Let thy house be open towards the
street, and let the poor be the sons of thy house,' we have
also this later comment on them, that Job had thus had
his house opened to the four quarters of the globe for the
poor, and that when his calamities befell him, he remon-
• So — and not ' ass ' — according to the best reading.

Discourses in Per ma 421
strated with God on the ground of his merits in this respect,
to which answer was made that he had in this matter
come very far short of the merits of Abraham. So entirely
self-introspective and self-seeking did Rabbinism become,
and so contrary was its outcome to the spirit of Christ, the
inmost meaning of Whose Work, as well as Words, was
entire self-forgetfulness and self-surrender in love.
4. In the fourth Discourse recorded by St. Luke,a we
» st Luke Pass from *n e parenthetic account of that Sabbath-
xiv. 25-35 meal in the house of the ' Ruler of the Pharisees,'
back to where the narrative of the Pharisees'
threat about Herod and the reply of Jesus had left us.b
At the outset we mark that we are not told what con
stituted the true disciple, but what would prevent a man
from becoming such. Again, it was now no longer (as in
the earlier address to the Twelve), that he who loved the
nearest and dearest of earthly kin more than Christ — and
hence clave to such rather than to Him — was not worthy
of Him ; nor that he who did not take his cross and follow
after Him was not worthy of the Christ. Since then the
enmity had ripened, and discipleship became impossible
without actual renunciation of the nearest relationship,
• stLuke aQd) more than that, of life itself.0 The term
xiv. 26 <¦ ha^g ' points to this, that, as outward separation
consequent upon men's antagonism to Christ was before
them in the near future, so in the present inward separa
tion, a renunciation in mind and heart, preparatory to that
outwardly, was absolutely necessary. And this immediate
call was illustrated in twofold manner. A man who was
about to begin building a tower, must count the cost of his
undertaking. d It was not enough that he was
prepared to defray the expense of the founda
tions ; he must look to the cost of the whole. So must
they in becoming disciples look not on what was involved
in the present following of Christ, but remember the cost
of the final acknowledgment of Jesus. Again, if a king
went to war, common prudence would lead him to consider
whether his forces were equal to the great contest before
him ; else it were far better to withdraw in time, even

422 Jesus the Messiah
though it involved humiliation, from what, in view of his
» st. Luke weakness, would end in miserable defeat." So,
xiv. 31,32 an(j mucn more, must the intending disciple
make complete inward surrender of all, deliberately count
ing the cost, and in view of the coming trial ask himself
whether he had indeed sufficient inward strength — the
force of love to Christ — to conquer.
Or else, and here Christ breaks once more into that
pithy Jewish proverb — ' Salt is good ; ' ' salt, if it have
lost its savour, wherewith shall it be salted ? ' b
We have preferred quoting the proverb in its
Jewish form to show its popular origin. Salt in such
condition was neither fit to improve the land, nor on the
other hand to be mixed with the manure. The disciple
who had lost his distinctiveness would neither benefit the
land, nor was he even fit, as it were, for the dunghill, and
could, only be cast out. And so, let him that hath ears to
hear, hear the warning !
5. We have still to consider the last Discourses of
• st Luk Christ before the raising of Lazarus.0 As being
xvii. 1-10 addressed to the disciples,d we have to connect
them with the Discourse just commented upon.
In point of fact, part of these admonitions had already
been spoken on a previous occasion, and that
oomp. st. more fully, to the disciples in Galilee.e Only we
Ss'j verU'6, uiust again bear in mind the difference of cir-
Mat* xvii cumstances. Here they immediately precede the
20 raising of Lazarus,f and they form the close of
Christ's public Ministry in Perasa. Hence they
come to us as Christ's parting admonitions to His Persean
followers. They are intended to impress on the new disciples
these four things : to be careful to give no offence s ; to be
est Luke careful to take no offence h ; to be simple and
tvv.3,4 earnest in their faith, and absolutely to trust its
'ver. 6 all-pervading power1; and yet, when they had
made experience of it, not to be elated, but to remember
their relation to their Master, that all was in His
service, and that, after all, when everything had been

Discourses in Per a? a 423
done, they were but unprofitable servants.* In other
¦st Luke words, they urged upon the disciples holiness,
xvu. 7-10 jove, faith, and service of self-surrender and
humility. The four parts of this Discourse are broken by the
prayer of the Apostles, who had formerly expressed their
difficulty in regard to these very requirements : b
xviii. 1-6.' ' Add unto us faith.' It was upon this that the
• st LuS Eord spake to them, for their comfort, of the
™j: * absolute power of even the smallest faith,0 and of
the service and humility of faith.d The latter
was couched in a Parabolic form, well calculated to impress
on them those feelings which would keep them lowly.
They were but servants ; and, even though they had done
their work, the Master expected them to serve Him, before
they sat down to their own meal and rest. Yet meal and
rest there would be in the end. Only, let there not be
self-elation, nor weariness, nor impatience; but let the
Master and His service be all in all. Surely, if ever there
was emphatic protest against the fundamental idea of
Pharisaism, as claiming merit and reward, it was in the
closing admonition of Christ's public Ministry in Peraea :
' When ye shall have done all those things which are
commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants ; we
have done that which was our duty to do.'
And with these parting words did He most effectually
and for ever separate, in heart and spirit, the Church from
the Synagogue.

CHAPTER LXVII.
THE DEATH AND THE RAISING OF LAZARUS.
(St. John xi. 1-54.)
From listening to the teaching of Christ, we turn once
more to follow His working. It will be remembered that
the visit to Bethany divides the period from the Feast of
the Dedication to the last Paschal week into two parts. It
also forms the prelude and preparation for the awful events

424 Jesus the Messiah
of the End. For it was on that occasion that the members
of the Sanhedrin formally resolved on His Death. It now
only remained to settle and carry out the plans for giving
effect to their purpose.
At the outset, we must here once more meet, however
briefly, the preliminary difficulty in regard to Miracles, of
which the raising of Lazarus is the most notable. Un
doubtedly, a Miracle runs counter not only to our experi
ence, but to the facts on which our experience is grounded;
and can only be accounted for by a direct Divine interpo
sition, which also runs counter to our experience, although
it cannot logically be said to run counter to the facts on
which that experience is grounded. Beyond this it is im
possible to go, since the argument on other grounds than
of experience — be it phenomenal [observation and historical
information] or real [knowledge of laws and principles] —
would necessitate knowledge alike of all the laws of Nature
and of all the secrets of Heaven.
On the other hand, to argue this point only on the
ground of experience (phenomenal or real), were not only
reasoning a priori, but in a vicious circle. It would really
amount to this : A thing has not been, because it cannot
be ; and it cannot be, because, so far as I know, it is not
and has not been. But to deny on such & priori prejudg
ment the possibility of Miracles ultimately involves a denial
of a Living, Reigning God. For the existence of a God im
plies at least the possibility, it may be the rational necessity,
of Miracles. And the same grounds of experience, which
tell against the occurrence of a Miracle, would equally
apply against belief in a God. We have as little ground
in experience (of a physical kind) for the one as for the
other. This is not said to deter inquiry, but for the sake
of our argument. For we confidently assert, and challenge
experiment of it, that disbelief in a God, or Materialism,
involves " infinitely more difficulties, and that at every
step and in regard to all things, than the faith of the
Christian. We may now follow this solemn narrative itself. Per
haps the more briefly we comment on it the better.

Death of Lazarus 425
It was while in Peraea, that this message suddenly
reached the Master from the well-remembered home at
Bethany, ' the village of Mary and her sister Martha,' con
cerning their (younger) brother Lazarus : ' Lord, behold
he whom Thou lovest is sick ! ' We note as an important
fact that the Lazarus, who had not even been mentioned in
the only account preserved to us of a previous visit of Christ
¦ st. Luke x. to Bethany," is described as ' he whom Christ
38 &o. loved.' What a gap of untold events between
the two visits of Christ to Bethany — and what modesty
should it teach us as regards inferences from the circum
stance that certain events are not recorded in the Gospels !
The messenger was apparently dismissed by Christ with
this reply : ' This sickness is not unto death, but for the
glory of God, in order that the Son of God may be glorified
thereby.' This answer was heard by such of the Apostles
as were present at the time. They would naturally infer
from it that Lazarus would not die, and that his restoration
would glorify Christ, either as having foretold it, or prayed
for it, or effected it by His Will.
And yet, probably at the very time when the messenger
received his answer, and ere he could have brought it to
the sisters, Lazarus was already dead. Nor did this awaken
doubt in the minds ofthe sisters. We seem to hear the very
words, which at the time they said to each other, when
each of them afterwards repeated to the Lord : ' Lord, if
Thou hadst been here, my brother would not have died.'
They probably thought the message had reached Him too
late. Even in their keenest anguish, there was no failure
of trust. Yet all this while Christ knew that Lazarus had
died, and still He continued two whole days where He
was, finishing His work. And yet — and this is noted be
fore anything else, alike in regard to His delay and to His
after-conduct — He ' loved Martha, and her sister, and
Lazarus.' Christ is never in haste, because He is always
sure. It was only after these two days that Jesus broke
silence as to His purposes and as to Lazarus. Though
thoughts of him must have been present with the disciples,

426 Jesus the Messiah
none dared ask aught, although not from misgiving, nor
yet from fear. This also of faith and of confidence. At
last, when His work in that part had been completed, He
spoke of leaving, but even so not of going to Bethany,
but into Judeea. For, in truth, His work in Bethany was
not only geographically, but really, part of His work in
Judaea ; and He told the disciples of His purpose, just be
cause He knew their fears and would teach them, not only
for this but for every future occasion, what principle applied
to them. For when in their care and affection they re
minded the ' Rabbi ' that the Jews ' were even now seeking
to stone ' Him, He replied by telling them in figurative
language that we have each our working day from God,
and that while it lasts no foe can shorten it or break up
our work. The day had twelve hours, and while these
lasted no mishap would befall him that walked in the way
[he stumbleth not, because he seeth the light of this world].
It was otherwise when the day was past and the night had
come. When our God-given day has set, and with it the
light been withdrawn which hitherto prevented our stum
bling — then, if a man went in his own way and at his
own time, might such mishap befall him, ' because,' figura
tively as to light in the night-time, and really as to
guidance and direction in the way, ' the light is not in
him.' But this was only part of what Jesus said to His dis
ciples in preparation for a journey that would issue in such
tremendous consequences. He next spoke of Lazaru s, their
' friend,' as ' fallen asleep ' — in the frequent Jewish figura
tive sense of it, and of His going there to wake him out of
sleep. The disciples would naturally connect this mention
of His going to Lazarus with His proposed visit to Judaea,
and, in their eagerness to keep Him from the latter, inter
posed that there could be no need for going to Lazarus, since
sleep was according to Jewish notions one of the six, or,
according to others, five symptoms or crises in recovery
from dangerous illness. And when the Lord then plainly
stated it, ' Lazarus died,' adding, what should have aroused
their attention, that for their sakes He was glad He had

Burial of Lazarus 427
not been in Bethany before the event, because now that
would come which would work faith in them, and proposed
to go to the dead Lazarus — even then, their whole atten
tion was so absorbed by the certainty of danger to their
loved Teacher, that Thomas had only one thought : since
it was to be so, let them go and die with Jesus.
We already know the quiet happy home of Bethany.
When Jesus reached it, 'He found' — probably from those
» comp. st. who met Him by the way " — that Lazarus had
John xi. 20 )3eeri already four days in the grave. According
to custom, he would be buried the same day that he had
died. This may be a convenient place for adding to the
account already given, in connection with the burying of
the widow's son at Nain, such further particulars of the
Jewish observances and rites, as may illustrate the present
history. Referring to the previous description, we resume,
in imagination, our attendance at the point where Christ
met the bier at Nain and again gave life to the dead. But
we remember that, as we are now in Judasa, the hired
mourners — both mourning-men and mourning- worn en —
would follow, and not, as in Galilee, precede the body.
From the narrative we infer that the burial of Lazarus did
not take place in a common burying-ground, which was never
nearer a town than 50 cubits, dry and rocky places being
chosen in preference. Here the graves must be at least a
foot and a half apart. It was deemed a dishonour to the dead
to stand on, or walk over, the turf of a grave. Roses and
other flowers seem to have been planted on graves. But
cemeteries, or common burying-places, appear in earliest
>> 2 Kings times to have been used only for the poor,b or for
jeTxxvi. 23 strangers." In Jerusalem there were also two
• at Matt places where executed criminals were buried.
Acts i. 19 All these, it is needless to say, were outside the
City. But there is abundant evidence that every place
had not its own burying-ground ; and that, not unfre-
quently, provision had to be made for the transport of
bodies. Indeed, a burying-place is not mentioned among
the ten requisites for every fully-organised Jewish commu-

428 Jesus the Messiah
nity.1 The names given, both to the graves and to the
burying-place itself, are of interest. As regards the former,
we mention such as ' the house of silence ; ' ' the house of
stone ; ' ' the hostelry,' or literally, ' place where you spend
the night ; ' ' the couch ; ' ' the resting-place ; ' ' the valley
of the multitude,' or ' of the dead.' The cemetery was
called ' the house of graves ; ' or ' the court of burying ; '
and ' the house of eternity.' By a euphemism, ' to die '
was designated as 'going to rest;' 'being completed;'
' being gathered to the world,' or ' to the home of light ; :
'being withdrawn,' or 'hidden.' Burial without coffin
seems to have continued the practice for a considerable
time, and rules are given how a pit, the size of the body,
was to be dug, and surrounded by a wall of loose stones to
prevent the falling in of earth. It is interesting to learn
that, for the sake of peace, just as the poor and sick of the
Gentiles might be fed and nursed as well as those of the
Jews, so their dead might be buried with those of the Jews,
though not in their graves. On the other hand, a wicked
person should not be buried close to a sage. Suicides were
not accorded all the honours of those who had died a
natural death, and the bodies of executed criminals were
laid in a special place, whence the relatives might after a
time remove their bones. The burial terminated by casting
earth on the grave.
But, as already stated, Lazarus was, as became his sta
tion, not laid in a cemetery, but in his own private tomb
in a cave— probably in a garden, the favourite place of
interment. Though on terms of close friendship with
Jesus, he was evidently not regarded as an apostate from
the Synagogue. For every indignity was shown at the
burial of an apostate ; people were even to array themselves
in white festive garments to make demonstration of joy.
Here, on the contrary, every mark of sympathy, respect,
and sorrow had been shown by the people in the district
and by friends in the neighbouring Jerusalem. In such
1 These were : a law court, provision for the poor, a synagogue, a
public bath, a secessus, a doctor, a surgeon, a, scribe, a butcher, and a
schoolmaster. i-

Burial of Lazarus 429
case it would be regarded as a privilege to obey the
Rabbinic direction of accompanying the dead, so as to
show honour to the departed and kindness to the survivors.
As the sisters of Bethany were ' disciples,' we may well
believe that some of the more extravagant demonstrations
of grief were, if not dispensed with, yet modified. We can
scarcely believe that the hired ' mourners ' would alternate
between extravagant praises of the dead and calls upon the
attendants to lament ; or that, as was their wont, they
would strike on their breasts, beat their hands, and dash
about their feet, or break into wails and mourning songs,
alone or in chorus. In all probability, however, the
funeral oration would be delivered — as in the case of all
distinguished persons — either in the house, or at one of
the stations where the bearers changed, or at the burying-
place ; perhaps, if they passed it, in the Synagogue. It
has previously been noted what extravagant value was in
later times attached to these orations, as indicating both
a man's life on earth and his place in heaven. The dead
was supposed to be present, listening to the words of the
speaker and watching the expression on the faces of the
hearers. When thinking of these tombs in gardens, we natu
rally revert to that which for three days held the Lord of
Life. It is, perhaps, better to give details here rather
than afterwards to interrupt, by such inquiries, our solemn
thoughts in presence of the Crucified Christ. Not only
the rich, but even those moderately well-to-do, had tombs
of their own, which probably were acquired and prepared
long before they were needed, and treated and inherited
as private and personal property. In such caves, or rock-
hewn tombs, the bodies were laid, having been anointed
with many spices, with myrtle, aloes, and, at a later period,
also with hyssop, rose-oil, and rose-water. The body was
dressed and, at a later period, wrapped, if possible, in the
worn cloths in which originally a Roll of the Law had
been held. The ' tombs ' were either ' rock-hewn,' or
natural ' caves,' or else large walled vaults, with niches along
the sides. Such a ' cave ' or ' vault ' 6 feet in width, 9 feet

43° Jesus the Messiah
in length, and 6 feet in height, contained ' niches ' for eight
bodies. The larger caves or vaults held thirteen bodies.
These figures apply, of course, only to what the Law
required, when a vault had been contracted for. At the
entrance to the vault was ' a court ' 9 feet square, to hold
the bier and its bearers. After a time the bones were
collected and put into a box or coffin, having first been
anointed with wine and oil, and being held together by
wrappings of cloth. This circumstance explains the exis
tence of the mortuary chests, or osteophagi, so frequently
found in the tombs of Palestine by late explorers, who
have been unable to explain their meaning. Inscriptions
appear to have been graven either on the lid ofthe mortuary
chest, or on the great stone ' rolled ' at the entrance to the
vault, or to the ' court ' leading into it, or else on the inside
walls of yet another erection, made over the vaults of the
wealthy, and which was supposed to complete the burying-
place. These small buildings surmounting the graves may have
served as shelter to those who visited the tombs. They
also served as ' monuments,' of which we read in the Bible,
in the Apocrypha and in Josephus. But of gravestones
with inscriptions we cannot find any record in Talmudic
works. At the same time, the place where there was a
vault or a grave was marked by a stone, which was kept
whitened, to warn the passer-by against defilement.
We are now able fully to realise all the circumstances
and surroundings in the burial and raising of Lazarus.
Jesus had come to Bethany. But in the house of
mourning they knew it not. As Bethany was only about
two miles from Jerusalem, many from the City, who were
on terms of friendship with what was evidently a distin
guished family, had come in obedience to one of the most
binding Rabbinic directions — that of comforting the
mourners. In the funeral procession the sexes had been
separated, and the practice probably prevailed even at that
time for the women to return alone from the grave. This
may explain why afterwards the women went and returned
alone to the Tomb of our Lord. The mourning, which

Burial of Lazarus 431
began before the burial, had been shared by the friends
who sat silent on the ground, or were busy preparing the
mourning meal. As the company left the dead, each had
taken leave of the deceased with a ' Depart in peace ! '
Then they had formed into lines, thr*ough which the
mourners passed amidst expressions of sympathy, repeated
(at least seven times) as the procession halted on the
return to the house of mourning. Then began the mourn
ing in the house, which really lasted thirty days, of which
the first three were those of greatest, the others, during
the seven days, or the special week of sorrow, of less
intense mourning. But on the Sabbath, as God's holy day,
all mourning was intermitted — and so ' they rested on the
Sabbath, according to the commandment.'
In that household of disciples this mourning would not
have assumed such violent forms, as when we read that the
women were in the habit of tearing out their hair, or of a
Rabbi who publicly scourged himself. But we know how
the dead would be spoken of. In death the two worlds
were said to meet and kiss. And now they who had
passed away beheld God. They were at rest. Such
beautiful passages as Ps. cxii. 6, Prov. x. 7, Is. xi. 10, last
clause, and Is. lvii. 2, were applied to them. Nay, the holy
dead should be called ' living.' In truth, they knew about
us, and unseen still surrounded us. Nor should they ever
be mentioned without adding a blessing on their memory .
In this spirit, we cannot doubt, the Jews were now
' comforting ' the sisters. They may have repeated words
like those quoted as the conclusion of such a consolatory
speech : ' May the Lord of consolations comfort you !
Blessed be fie Who comforteth the mourners ! ' But
they could scarcely have imagined how literally a wish
like this was about to be fulfilled. For already the
message had reached Martha, who was probably in one of
the outer apartments of the house : Jesus is coming ! She
hastened to meet the Master. Not a word of complaint,
not a murmur, nor doubt, escaped her lips — only what
during those four bitter days these two sisters must have
been so often saying to each other, when the luxury of

43 2 Jesus the Messiah
solitude was allowed them, that if He had been there, their
brother would not have died. And still she held fast by
it, that even now God would give Him whatsoever He asked.
Her words could scarcely have been the expression of any
real hope of the 'miracle about to take place, or Martha
would not have afterwards sought to arrest Him, when
He bade them roll away the stone. And yet is it not
even so, that when that comes to us which our faith had
once dared to suggest, if not to hope, we feel as if it were
all too great and impossible — that a very physical ' cannot
be ' separates us from it ?
It was in very truth and literality that the Lord
meant it, when He told Martha her brother would rise
again, although she understood His Words of the Re
surrection at the Last Day. In answer, Christ pointed
out to her the connection between Himself and the
Resurrection; and, what He spoke, that He did when
He raised Lazarus from the dead. The Resurrection
and the Life are not special gifts either to the Church or
to humanity, but are connected with the Christ — the out
come of Himself. Most literally He is the Resurrection
and the Life — and this, the new teaching about the
Resurrection, was the object and the meaning of the
raising of Lazarus.
It is only when we think of the meaning of Christ's
previous words that we can understand the answer of
Martha to His question : ' Believest thou this ? Yea,
Lord, I have believed that Thou art the Christ, the Son of
God [with special reference to the original message of
»st John Christ a], He that cometh into the world' ['the
^ * Coming One into the world ' = the world's
promised, expected, come Saviour].
What else passed between them we can only gather
from the context. It seems that the Master ' called ' for
Mary. This message Martha now hasted to deliver,
although ' secretly.' Mary was probably sitting in the
chamber of mourning, with its upset chairs and couches,
and other melancholy tokens of mourning, as was the
custom ; surrounded by many who had come to comfort

Raising of Lazarus 433
them. As she heard of His coming and call, she rose
' quickly,' and the Jews followed her, under the impression
that she was again going to visit and to weep at the tomb
of her brother. For it was the practice to visit the
grave, especially during the first three days. When she
came to Jesus, where He still stood, outside Bethany, she
was forgetful of all around. She could only fall at His
Feet, and repeat the poor words with which she and her
sister had these four weary days tried to cover the naked
ness of their sorrow : poor words of faith, which she did
not, like her sister, make still poorer by adding the poverty
of her hope to that of her faith. To Martha that had
been the maximum, to Mary it was the minimum of her
faith ; for the rest, it was far better to add nothing more,
but simply to worship at His Feet.
It must have been a deeply touching scene : the out
pouring of her sorrow, the absoluteness of her faith, the
mute appeal of her tears. And the Jews who witnessed
it were moved as she, and wept with her. What follows
is difficult to understand. But if with a realisation of
Christ's Condescension to, and union with humanity as its
Healer, by taking upon Himself its diseases, we combine
the statement formerly made about the Resurrection, as
not a gift or boon but the outcome of Himself — we may,
in some way, not understand, but be able to gaze into
the unfathomed depth of that Theanthropic fellow-suffering
which was both vicarious and redemptive, and which,
before He became the Resurrection to Lazarus, shook His
whole inner Being, when, in the words of St. John, ' He
vehemently moved His Spirit and troubled Himself.'
And now every trait is in accord. ' Where have ye
laid him ? ' As they bade Him come and see, the tears
that fell from Him were not like the violent lamentation
that burst from Him at sight and prophetic view of doomed
• st. Lute Jerusalem. a Yet we can scarcely think that the
xix. 41 Jews rightly interpreted it, when they ascribed
it only to His love for Lazarus. But surely there was not
a touch either of malevolence or of irony, only what we
feel to be quite natural in the circumstances, when some of
FF

434 Jesus the Messiah
them asked aloud : ' Could not this One, Which opened
the eyes of the blind, have wrought so that [in order]
this one also should not die ? ' Scarcely was it even
unbelief. They had so lately witnessed in Jerusalem that
Miracle, such as had ' not been heard ' ' since the world
•st. John began,'" that it seemed difficult to understand
**¦ 32 how, seeing there was the will (in His affection
for Lazarus), there was not the power — not to raise him
from the dead, for that did not occur to them, but to
prevent his dying. Was there, then, a barrier in death ?
And it was this, and not indignation, which once more
caused that Theanthropic recurrence upon Himself, when
again ' He vehemently moved His Spirit.'
And now they were at the cave which was Lazarus'
tomb. He bade them roll aside the great stone which
covered its entrance. Amidst the awful pause which pre
ceded obedience, one voice only was raised. It was that
of Martha. Jesus had not spoken of raising Lazarus.
But what was about to be done ? She could scarcely
have thought that He merely wished to gaze once more
upon the face of the dead. Something nameless had
seized her. She dared not believe ; she dared not dis
believe. Did she, perhaps, not dread a failure, but feel
misgivings, when thinking of Christ as in presence of
commencing corruption before these Jews — and yet, as we
so often, still love Him even in unbelief? It was the
common Jewish idea that corruption commenced on the
fourth day, that the drop of gall, which had fallen from
the sword of the Angel and caused death, was then
working its effect, and that, as the face changed, the soul
took its final leave from the resting-place of the body.
Only one sentence Jesus spake of gentle reproof, of re
minder of what He had said to her just before, and of the
message He had sent when first He heard of Lazarus'
^st John illness. b And now the stone was rolled away.
3d-4 We all feel that the fitting thing here was
prayer — yet not petition, but thanksgiving that the Father
'heard' Him, not as regarded the raising of Lazarus,
which was His Own Work, but in the ordering and

Raising of Lazarus 435
arranging of all the circumstances — alike the petition and
the thanksgiving having for their object them that stood
by, for He knew that the Father always heard Him : that
so they might believe that the Father had sent Him.
Sent of the Father — not come of Himself, not sent of
Satan — and sent to do His Will !
One loud command spoken into that silence ; one loud
call to that sleeper, and the wheels of life again moved at
the outgoing of The Life. And, still bound hand and foot
with graveclothes, and his face with the napkin, Lazarus
stood forth, shuddering and silent, in the cold light of
earth's day. In that multitude, now more pale and shud
dering than the man bound in the graveclothes, the only
one majestically calm was He, Who before had been so
deeply moved and troubled Himself, as He now bade them
' Loose him, and let him go.'
We know no more. What happened afterwards — how
they loosed him, what they said, and what were Lazarus' first
words, we know not. Did Lazarus remember aught of the
late past, or was not rather the rending of the grave a real
rending from the past : the awakening so sudden, the
transition so great, that nothing of the bright vision re
mained, but its impress —just as a marvellously beautiful
Jewish legend has it, that before entering this world, the
soul of a child has seen all of heaven and hell, of past,
present, and future ; but that, as the Angel strikes it on
the mouth to waken it into this world, all of the other has
passed from the mind ? Again we say : We know not —
and it is better so.
And here abruptly breaks off this narrative. Some of
those who had seen it believed on Him ; others hurried
back to Jerusalem to tell it to the Pharisees. Then was
hastily gathered a meeting of the Sanhedrists, not to judge
Him, but to deliberate what was to be done. They had
not the courage of, though the wish for judicial murder,
till he who was the High- Priest, Caiaphas, reminded them
of the well-known Jewish adage, that it ' is better one man
should die, than the community perish.'
This was the last prophecy in Israel ; with the sentence
F F 2

436 Jesus the Messiah
of death on Israel's true High-Priest died prophecy in
Israel, died Israel's High Priesthood. It had spoken
sentence upon itself.
This was the first Friday of dark resolve. Henceforth
it only needed to concert plans for carrying it out. Some
one, perhaps Nicodemus, sent word of the secret meeting
and resolution of the Sanhedrists. That Friday and the
next Sabbath Jesus rested in Bethany, with the same
majestic calm which He had shown at the grave of Lazarus.
Then He withdrew far away to the obscure bounds of
Perasa and Galilee, to a city of which the very location is
now unknown. And there fie continued with flis disciples,
withdrawn from the Jews — till He would make His final
entrance into Jerusalem.

CHAPTER LXVIII.
ON THE JOURNEY TO JERUSALEM — HEALING OF TEN LEPERS
 ON DIVORCE— THE BLESSING TO LITTLE CHILDREN.
(St. Matt. xix. 1, 2; St. Mark x. 1; St. Luke xvii. 11; 12-19; St.
Matt. xix. 3-12 ; St. Mark x. 2-12; St. Matt. xix. 13-15 ; St. Mark
x. 13-16 ; St. Luke xviii. 15-17.)
The brief time of rest and quiet converse with His disciples
in the retirement of Ephraim was past, and the Saviour of
men prepared for His last journey to Jerusalem. All the
¦ st Matt three Synoptic Gospels mark this, although with
xix. 1,2; varying details. a From the mention of Galilee
i ;' st. Luke by St. Matthew, and by St. Luke of Samaria and
Galilee — or more correctly, ' between (along the
frontiers of) Samaria and Galilee,' we may conjecture that,
on leaving Ephraim, Christ made a very brief detour along
the northern frontier to some place at the southern border
of Galilee — perhaps to meet at a certain point those who
were to accompany Him on His final journey to Jerusalem.
The whole company would then form one of those festive
bands which travelled to the Paschal Feast, nor would

Healing of Ten Lepers 437
there be anything strange or unusual in the appearance
of such a band, in this instance under the leadership of
Jesus. Another notice, furnished by SS. Matthew and Mark,
is that during this journey through Persea, ' great multi-
¦ st. Mat- tubes' resorted to, and followed Him, and that
*bsTMark ' ^e cea^ec^'a an<^ 'taught them.'b This will
account for the incidents and Discourses by the
way, and also how, from among many deeds, the Evange
lists may have selected for record what to them seemed the
most important or novel, or else best accorded with the
«st Luke plans of their respective narratives.
xvu. 12-19 1 . St. Luke alone relates the very first incident
by the way,0 and the first Discourse. d
It is a further confirmation of our suggestion as to the
road taken by Jesus, that of the ten lepers whom, at the
outset of His journey, He met when entering into a village,
one was a Samaritan. It may have been that the district
was infested with leprosy ; or these lepers may, on tidings
of Christ's approach, have hastily gathered there. It was
in strict accordance with Jewish Law, that these lepers
remained both outside the village and far from Him to
Whom they now cried for mercy. And, without either
touch or even command of healing, Christ bade them go
and show themselves as healed to the priests. For this it
was not necessary to repair to Jerusalem. Any priest
might declare ' unclean ' or ' clean,' provided the applicants-
presented themselves singly, and not in company, for
his inspection. And they went at Christ's bidding, even
before they had actually experienced the healing ! So
great was their faith, and, may we not almost infer, the
general belief throughout the district, in the Power of ' the
Master.' And as they went, the new life coursed in their
veins. But now the characteristic difference between these
men appeared. Of the ten, equally recipients of the
benefit, the nine Jews continued their way — presumably
to the priests — while the one Samaritan in the number at
once turned back, with a loud voice glorifying God. No

438 Jesus the Messiah
longer now did he remain afar off, but fell on his face at
the Feet of Him to Whom he gave thanks. This Samari
tan had received more than new bodily life and health : he
had found spiritual life and healing.
But why did the nine Jews not return ? Assuredly,
they must have had some faith when first seeking help
from Christ, and still more when setting out for the priests
before they had experienced the healing. But perhaps we
may over-estimate the faith of these men. Bearing in mind
the views of the Jews at the time, and what constant suc
cession of miraculous cures had been witnessed these years,
it cannot seem strange that lepers should apply to Jesus.
Nor yet perhaps did it, in the circumstances, involve very
much greater faith to go to the priests at His bidding —
implying, of course, that they were or would be healed.
But it was far different to turn back and to fall down at
His Feet in worship and thanksgiving. That made a man
a disciple. And the Lord emphasised the contrast in this between
the children ofthe household and 'this stranger.' Accord
ing to the Gospels, a man might either seek benefit from
Christ, or else receive Christ through such benefit. In the
one case the benefit sought was the object, in the other the
means : in the one it ultimately led away from, in the
other it led to Christ and to discipleship. And so Christ
now spake to this Samaritan : ' Arise, go thy way ; thy
faith has made thee whole.'
2. The Discourse concerning the Coming of the
Kingdom, which is reported by St. Luke immediately after
» st. Luke the healing of the ten lepers,8- will be more con-
xvn. 20-37 veniently considered in connection with the
» st. Matt fuller statement of the same truths at the close
™- of our Lord's Ministry."
3. This brings us to what we regard as, in point of
«st.Matt time, the next Discourse of Christ on this journey,
l^Mal-kx recorded both by St. Matthew and, in briefer
2-12 ' form, by St. Mark.0
Christ had advanced farther on His journey, and now
once more encountered the hostile Pharisees. It will be

On Divorce 439
remembered that He had met them before in the same
» st. Luke part of the country,0, and answered their taunts
*"¦ u and objections, among other things, by charging
them with breaking in spirit that Law of which they pro
fessed to be the exponents and representatives. And this
He had proved by reference to their views and teaching
on the subject of divorce.b This seems to have
rankled in their minds. Probably they also
imagined, it would be easy to show on this point a marked
difference between the teaching of Jesus and that of Moses
and the Rabbis, and to enlist popular feeling against Him.
Accordingly, when these Pharisees again encountered Jesus,
now on His journey to Judaea, they resumed the subject pre
cisely where it had been broken off when they had last met
Him, only now with the object of 'tempting Him.' Perhaps
it may also have been in the hope that, by getting Christ
to commit Himself against divorce in Perasa — the territory
of Herod — rthey might enlist against Him, as formerly
against the Baptist, the implacable hatred of Herodias.
But their main object evidently was to involve Christ
in controversy with some of the Rabbinic Schools. This
appears from the form in which they put the question,
' st. Matt whether it was lawful to put away a wife ' for
Jax 3 every cause ' ? ° St. Mark, who gives only a very
condensed account, omits this clause ; but in Jewish circles
the whole controversy between different teachers turned
upon this point. All held that divorce was lawful, the only
question being as to its grounds. There can however be
no question that the practice was discouraged by many of
the better Rabbis, alike in word and by their example :
nor yet, that the Jewish Law took the most watchful care
of the interests of the woman. In fact, if any doubt were
raised as to the legal validity of a letter of divorce,' the
Law always pronounced against the divorce. At the same
time, in popular practice, divorce must have been very
frequent ; while the principles underlying Jewish legis
lation on the subject are most objectionable.
No real comparison is possible between Christ and
even the strictest of the Rabbis, since none of them actually

440 Jesus the Messiah
prohibited divorce, except in case of adultery, nor yet laid
down those high eternal principles which Jesus enunciated.
But we can understand how from the Jewish point of view
' tempting Him,' they would put the question, whether it
was lawful to divorce a wife ' for every cause.' Avoiding
their cavils, the Lord appealed straight to the highest
authority — God's institution of marriage. He Who at the
beginning had made them male and female had in the
marriage-relation ' joined them together,' to the breaking
of every other, even the nearest, relationship, to be ' one
flesh ' — that is, to a union which was unity. Such was
the fact of God's ordering. It followed that they were one
— and what God had willed to be one, man might not put
asunder. Then followed the natural Rabbinic objection,
why, in such case, Moses had commanded a bill of divorce
ment. Our Lord replied by pointing out that Moses had
not commanded divorce, only tolerated it on account of
their hardness of heart, and in such case commanded to
give a bill of divorce for the protection of the wife. And
this argument would appeal the more forcibly to them, that
the Rabbis themselves taught that a somewhat similar con-
• Deut xxi. cession had been made a by Moses in regard to
11 female captives of war — as the Talmud has it,
' on account of the evil impulse.' But such a separation,
our Lord continued, had not been provided for in the
original institution, which was a union to unity. Only one
thing could put an end to that unity — its absolute breach.
Hence, to divorce one's wife (or husband) while this unity
lasted, and to marry another, was adultery, because, as the
divorce was null before God, the original marriage still
subsisted — and in that case the Rabbinic Law would also
have forbidden it. The next part of the Lord's inference,
that ' whoso marrieth her which is put away doth commit
adultery,' is more difficult of interpretation. Generally, it
is understood as implying that a woman divorced for
adultery might not be married. Be this as it may, the
Jewish Law, which regarded marriage with a woman
divorced under any circumstances as unadvisable, absolutely
forbade that of the adulterer with the adulteress.

**s

THE BLESSING TO LITTLE CHILDREN.

The Blessing to Little Children 441
That the Pharisees had rightly judged, when ' tempting
Him,' what the popular feeling on the subject would be,
appears even from what ' His disciples ' [not necessarily
the ApostlesJ afterwards said to Him. They waited to ex-
• st Mark press their dissent till they were alone with Him
*• ™ 'in the house,' a and then urged that, if it were
as Christ had taught, it would be better not to marry at
"st Matt all. To which the Lord replied,b that ' this say-
xix. 10-12 ^ng » 0f tke disciples, ' it is not good to marry,'
could not be received by all men, but only by those to
whom it was ' given.' For there were three cases in which
abstinence from marriage might lawfully be contemplated.
In two of these it was, of course, natural ; and, where it
was not so, a man might, ' for the Kingdom of Heaven's
sake' — that is, in the service of God and of Christ — have
all his thoughts, feelings, and impulses so engaged that
others were no longer existent. It is this which requires
to be ' given ' of God ; and which ' he that is able to receive
it ' — who has the moral capacity for it — is called upon to
receive. 4. The next incident is recorded by the three Evange-
• st. Matt lists.0 It probably occurred in the same house
It Markx. where the disciples had questioned Christ about
Luke xvui ^s teaching on the Divinely sacred relationship
15-17 of marriage. And the account of His blessing of
' infants ' and ' little children ' most aptly follows on the
former teaching. We can understand how, when One
Who so spake and wrought rested in the house, Jewish
mothers should have brought their ' little children,' and
some their ' infants,' to Him, that He might ' touch,' ' put
His Hands on them, and pray.' What power and holiness
must these mothers have believed to be in His touch and
prayer ; what life to be in, and to come from Him ; and
what gentleness and tenderness must His have been, when
they dared so to bring these little ones ! For how utterly
contrary it was to all Jewish notions, and how incompatible
with the supposed dignity of a Rabbi, appears from the
rebuke of the disciples. It was an occasion and an act
when, as the fuller and more pictorial account of St. Mark

442 Jesus the Messiah
informs us, Jesus ' was much displeased ' — the only time
this strong word is used of our Lord — and said unto them :
' Suffer the little children to come to Me, hinder them not,
for of such is the Kingdom of God.' Then He gently re
minded His own disciples of their grave error, by repeating
» st Matt what they had apparently forgotten," that, in
*™- 3 order to enter the Kingdom of God, it must be
received as by a little child — that here there could be no
question of intellectual qualification, nor of distinction due
to a great Rabbi, but only of humility, receptiveness, meek
ness, and a simple application to, and trust in the Christ.
And so He folded these little ones in His Arms, put His
Hands upon them, and blessed them.

CHAPTER LXIX.

THE LAST INCIDENTS IN PER^A — THE. YOUNG RULER WHO
WENT AWAY SORROWFUL — PROPHECY OF CHRIST'S PASSION
— THE REQUEST OF SALOME, AND OF JAMES AND JOHN.
(St. Matt. xix. 16-22; St. Mark x. 17-22; St. Luke xviii. 18-23
St. Matt. xix. 23-30 ; St. Mark x. 23-31 ; St. Luke xviii. 24-30
St. Matt. xx. 17-19 ; St. Mark x. 32-34 ; St. Luke xviii. 31-34
St. Matt. xx. 20-28 ; St. Mark x. 35-45.)
As we near the goal, the story seems to grow in tenderness
and pathos. It is as if all the loving condescension of the
Master were to be crowded into these days ; all the press
ing need also and the human weaknesses of His disciples.
As ' He was going forth into the way ' — probably at early
morn, as He left the house where He had blessed the chil
dren brought to Him by believing parents — His progress
* st. Luke was arrested. It was ' a young man,' ' a ruler,' b
• st Mark ProDamy of the local Synagogue, who came with
all haste, ' running,' and kneeling,0 to ask what
to him, to us all, is the most important question.
The actual question of the young Ruler is one which
repeatedly occurs in Jewish writings, as put to a Rabbi
by his disciples. Amidst the different answers given, we

The Young Ruler 443
scarcely wonder that they also pointed to observance of the
Law. And the saying of Christ seems the more adapted
to the young Ruler when we recall this sentence from the
Talmud : ' There is nothing else that is good but the Law.'
But here again the similarity is only of form, not of
substance. For it will be noticed that, in the fuller ac
count by St. Matthew, Christ leads the young Ruler upwards
through the table of the prohibitions of deeds to the first
positive command of deed, and then, by a rapid transition,
to the substitution for the tenth commandment in its
negative form of this wider positive and all-embracing
• Lev. xix. command:0, 'Thou shalt love thy neighbour as
18 thyself.' Any Jewish ' Ruler,' but especially one
so earnest,, would have at once answered a challenge on the
first four commandments by ' Yes ' — and that not self-
righteously but sincerely, though of course in ignorance of
their real depth. And this was not the time for lengthened
discussion and instruction : only for rapid awakening, to
lead up, if possible^ from a heart-drawing towards the
Master to real discipleship. Best here to start from what
was admitted as binding — the ten commandments — and
to lead from that in them which was least likely to be
broken, step by step, upwards to that which was most
likely to awaken consciousness of sin.
And the young Ruler did not, as that other Pharisee,
reply by trying to raise a Rabbinic disputation over the
» st Luke x. ' Who is neighbour to me ? ' b but in the sincerity
29 of an honest heart answered that he had kept —
that is, so far as he knew them — ' all these things from his
youth.' On this St. Matthew puts into his mouth the
question — ' What lack I yet ? ' What he had seen and
heard of the Christ had quickened to greatest intensity all
in him that longed after God and heaven, and had brought
him in this supreme moral earnestness to the Feet of Him
in Whom, as he felt, all perfectness was, and from Whom
all perfectness came. He had not been first drawn to
Christ, and thence to the pure, as were the publicans and
sinners ; but, like so many — even as Peter, when in that
hour of soul-agony he said : ' To whom shall we go ? Thou

444 Jesus the Messiah
hast the words of eternal life,' — he had been drawn to the
pure and the higher, and therefore to Christ.
And Jesus saw what he lacked ; and what He saw,
He showed him. For, ' looking at him ' in his sincerity
and earnestness, ' He loved" him.' One thing was needful
for this young man : that he should not only become His
disciple, but that, in so doing, he should ' come and follow '
Christ. It seems as if to some it needed, not only the
word of God, but a stroke of some Moses'-rod to make the
water gush forth from the rock. And thus would this
young Ruler have been ' perfect ; ' and what he had given
to the poor have become, not through merit nor by way of
reward, but really, ' treasure in heaven.'
What he lacked — was earth's poverty and heaven's
riches : a heart fully set on following Christ ; and this
could only come to him through willing surrender of all.
There is something deeply pathetic in the mode in
which St. Mark describes what follows : ' he was sad ' —
the word painting a dark gloom that overshadowed the
face of the young man. We need scarcely here recall
the almost extravagant language in which Rabbinism de
scribes the miseries of poverty; we can understand his
feelings without that. Such a possibility had never entered
his mind : the thought of it was terribly startling.
Rabbinism had never asked this ; if it demanded alms
giving, it was in odious boastfulness ; while it was declared
even unlawful to give away all one's possessions — at most,
only a fifth of them might be dedicated.
And so, with clouded face he gazed down into what he
lacked — within ; but also gazed up in Christ on what he
needed. And, although we hear no more of him who
that day went back to his rich home very poor, because
'very sorrowful,' we cannot but believe that he whom
Jesus loved yet found in the poverty of earth the treasure
of heaven. Nor was this all. The deep pity of Christ for him
who had gone that day, speaks also in His warning to
• st Mark His disciples.8- But surely those are not only
x23 riches in the literal sense which make it so

The Young Ruler 445
difficult for a man to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven
— so difficult, as to amount almost to that impossibility
which was expressed in the common Jewish proverb,
that a man did not even in his dreams see an elephant
pass through the eye of a needle ? But when in their
perplexity the disciples put to' each other the question :
Who then can be saved ? He taught them that what was
impossible of achievement by man in his own strength,
God would work by His Almighty Grace.
It almost jars on our ears when Peter, perhaps as
spokesman of the rest, seems to remind the Lord that they
had forsaken all to follow Him. St. Matthew records also
the special question which Simon added to it : ' What
shall we have therefore ? ' The Lord's reply bore on two
points : on the reward which all who left everything to
» st Matt follow Christ would obtain ; " and on the special
s'x w9 K acknowledgment awaiting the Apostles of Christ.b
29* 30 ; st' In regard to the former we mark, that it is two-
Luke ma. gj^ They who had forsaken all ' for His sake ' °
bst Matt < and the Gospei'S;' a < for th6 Kingdom of God's
• st Mat- sake '• — and these three expressions explain and
st. Mark supplement each other — would receive ' in this
'' " time ' ' manifold more ' of new, and better, and
closer relationships of a spiritual kind for those which they
had surrendered, although, as St. Mark significantly adds,
to prevent all possible mistakes, ' with persecutions.' But
by the side of this stands out unclouded and bright the
promise for ' the world to come ' of ' everlasting life.' As
regarded the Apostles personally, some mystery lies on
the special promise to them (that ' in the regeneration '
they should ' sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of
Israel '). We could quite understand that the distinction
of rule to be bestowed on them might have been worded
in language taken from the expectations of the time,
in order to make the promise intelligible to them. But,
unfortunately, we have here no explanatory information
to offer. The Rabbis, indeed, speak of a renovation or
regeneration of the world which was to take place after
the 7,000 or else 5,000 years of the Messianic reign.

446 Jesus the Messiah
Such a renewal of all things is not only foretold by the
prophets,81 and dwelt upon in later Jewish
ampife°is?x" writings,* but frequently referred to in Rabbinic
efS'.Vr1"' literature. But as regards the special rule or
Enoo0hx"- 'judgment' of the Apostles, or ambassadors of
is, I?;. 4 the Messiah, we have not, and, of course, cannot
expect any parallel in Jewish writings. Yet that
the delegation of such rule and judgment to the Apostles
is in accordance with Old Testament promise will be seen
from Dan. vii. 9, 10, 14, 27 ; and there are few references
in the New Testament to the blessed consummation of all
. , ... things in which such renewal of the world,0 and
c Acts ill. o # >
21 ; Rom. even the rule and judgment of the representatives
2Pet. iii. ' of the Church,d are not referred to.
13 ; Bev. rp^g reference to the blessed future with its
aicor.vi. rewards was followed by a Parable, recorded as
2,3; Bev. . •> '. . .
xx.4;xxi with one exception all ot that series, only by
St. Matthew. It will best be considered in
connection with the last series of Christ's Parables. But it
°st.Matt was accompanied by a most needful warning.6
xx. 17-19 Thoughts of the future Messianic reign, its glory,
and their own part in it might have so engrossed the
minds of the disciples as to make them forgetful of the
terrible present, immediately before them. In such case
they might not only have lapsed into that most fatal Jew
ish error of a Messiah-King Who was not Saviour — the
Crown without the Cross — but have even suffered ship
wreck of their faith, when the storm broke on the Day of
His Condemnation and Crucifixion. How truly such pre
paration was required by the disciples appears from the
narrative itself.
There was something sad and mysterious in the words
with which Christ had closed His Parable, that the last
,„„ .. should be first and the first lastf — and it had
fSt.Matt. ...... . . ^x
xx. 16 ; st. carried misgiving to those who heard it. Yet
" x' the disciples could not have indulged in illu
sions. His own sayings on at least two previous occa-
8 st. Matt sions,g however ill or partially understood, must
have led them to expect at any rate grievous

xvi. 21
xvii.

Prophecy of Christ's Passion 447
opposition and tribulations in Jerusalem, and their en
deavour to deter Christ from going to Bethany, to raise
Lazarus, proves that they were well aware of the
» st. John danger which threatened the Master in Judaea.*
xt 8, 16 Yet not only ' was He now going up to
Jerusalem,' but there was that in His bearing which
was quite unusual. As St. Mark writes, ' And going
before them was Jesus ; and they were amazed [utterly
bewildered, viz. the Apostles] ; and those who were
following, were afraid.' It was then that Jesus took the
Apostles apart, and, in language more precise than ever
before, told them how all things that were ' written by the
prophets shall be accomplished on the Son of Man ' b — not
» st. Luke merely, that all that had been written concerning
XTUL 31 the Son of Man should be accomplished, but a
far deeper truth, all-comprehensive as regards the Old
Testament: that all its prophecy ran up into the Sufferings
of the Christ. As the three Evangelists report it, the
Lord gave them full details of His Betrayal, Crucifixion,
and Resurrection. And yet we may, without irreverence,
doubt whether on that occasion He had really entered into
all those particulars. In such case it would seem difficult
to explain how, as St. Luke reports, ' they understood
none of these things, and the saying was hid from them,
neither knew they the things which were spoken ; ' and
again, how afterwards the actual events and the Resurrec
tion could have taken them so by surprise. Rather do we
think that the Evangelists report what Jesus had said, in
the light of after-events. At the time they may have
thought that it pointed only to His rejection by Jews asd
Gentiles, to Sufferings and Death — and then to a Resurrec
tion, either of His Mission or to such a reappearance of
the Messiah, after His temporary disappearance, as Judaism
expected. One other incident, and the Perasan stay is for ever
ended. It almost seems as if the fierce blast of temp
tation, the very breath of the destroyer, were already
sweeping, over the little flock, as if the twilight of the
night of betrayal and desertion were already falling

448 Jesus the Messiah
around. And now it has fallen on the two chosen dis
ciples, James and John — ' the sons of thunder,' and one
of them, ' the beloved disciple ! ' Peter, the third in that
band most closely bound to Christ, had already had his
•st. Matt, temptation,3, and would have it more fiercely— to
xvi.23 ^e Upr00tirlg of life, if the Great High-Priest
had not specially interceded for him. And, as regards
»stMatt these two sons of Zebedee and of Salome,b we
™p 1°' know what temptation had already beset them, —
^SfHfV*0 h°w John had forbidden one to cast out devils,
« St Mark ,
ix. 38 because he followed not with them,0 and how
both he and his brother, James, would have called down
fire from heaven to consume the Samaritans who would
* st Luke uot receive Christ.4 It was essentially the same
lx-6* spirit that now prompted the request which
their mother Salome preferred, not only with their full
* By st concurrence, but, as we are expressly told,e with
Mark (x. 35) their active participation. There is the same
faith in the Christ, the same allegiance to Him, but also
the same unhallowed earnestness, the same misunder
standing — and, let us add, the same latent self-exaltation,
as in the two former instances, in- the present request that,
as the most honoured of His guests, and also as the nearest
to Him, they might have their places at His Right Hand
st Maw. and at His Left in His Kingdom/ Terribly in-
ItMarkx. congruous as is any appearance of self-seeking
36-4B at that moment and with that prospect before
them, we cannot but feel that there is also an intenseness
of faith almost sublime, when the mother steps forth from
among those who follow Christ to His Suffering and
Death, to proffer such a request with her sons, and for
them. And so the Saviour seems to have viewed it. He,
Whose Soul is filled with the contest before Him, bears
with the weakness and selfishness which could cherish such
ambitions at such a time. To correct them, He points to
that near prospect, when the Highest is to be made low.
' Ye know not what ye ask ! ' The King is to. be King
through suffering — are they aware of the road which leads

The Request of James and John 449
to that goal ? Those nearest to the King of Sorrows must
reach the place nearest to Him by the same road as He.
Are they prepared for it ; prepared to drink that cup of
soul-agony, which the Father will hand to Him — to sub
mit to, to descend into that Baptism of consecration, when
the floods will sweep over Him ? In their ignoranpe, and
listening only to the promptings of their hearts, they
imagine that they are. Nay, in some measure it would be
so ; yet, finally to correct their mistake : to sit at His
Right and at His Left Hand, these were not marks of
mere favour for Him to bestow — in His own words : it 'is
not Mine to give except to them for whom it is prepared
of My Father.'
But as for the other ten, when they heard of it, it was
only the pre-eminence which, in their view, James and
John had sought, that stood out before them, to their
• st Matt envy and indignation.3 And so in that solemn
•p- 24, hour would the fire of controversy have broken
Mark x.' 41, out among them who should have been most
closely united — had not Jesus hushed it into
silence when He spoke to them of the grand contrast
between the princes of the Gentiles as they ' lord it over
them,' or the ' great among them ' as they ' domineer '
over men, and their own aims — how, whosoever would be
great among them, must seek his greatness in service —
not greatness through service, but the greatness of service ;
and whosoever would be chief or rather ' first ' among
them, let it be in service. The Son of Man Himself — let
them look back, let them look forward — He came not to
be ministered unto, but to minister. And then, breaking
through the reserve that had held Him, and revealing to
them the inmost thoughts which had occupied Him when
He had been alone, going before them on the way, He
spoke for the first time fully what was the deepest mean
ing bf His Life, Mission, and Death : ' to give His Life a
n st. Matt ransom for many,' b to pay with His Life-Blood
it Mark x. tne price of their redemption, to lay down His
45 Life for them : in their room and stead, and for
their salvation.
These words must have sunk deep into the heart of
G G

450 Jesus the Messiah
one at least in that company. A few days later, and the
beloved disciple tells us of this Ministry of His
• st John ^ove at the Last Supper," and ever afterwards, in
^T'cot. h^ writings and in his life, does he seem to bear
1 Tim' -i 6 • them about with him, and to re-echo them. Ever
i Pet.'i. 19 • since also have they remained the foundation-
1 Joim iv. 10 j.^k on w}!Jch the Church has been built : the
subject of her preaching, and the object of her experience.b

CHAPTER LXX.

IN JERICHO — A GUEST WITH ZACCH^IUS — THE HEALING OF
BLIND BARTIM.EUS — AT BETHANY, AND IN THE HOUSE OF
SIMON THE LEPER.
(St. Luke xix. 1-10 ; St. Matt. xx. 29-34 ; St. Mark x. 46-52 ; St. Luke
xviii. 35-43; St. John xi. 55-xii. I; St. Matt. xxvi. 6-13; St. Mark
xiv. 3-9 ; St. John xii. 2-11.)
Once more, and now for the last time, were the fords
of Jordan passed, and Christ was on the soil of Judasa
proper. Behind Him were Peraea and Galilee; behind
Him the Ministry of the Gospel by Word and Deed ; before
Him the final Act of His Life, towards which all had
consciously tended. And He was coming openly, at the
head of His Apostles, and followed by many disciples — -a
festive band going up to the Paschal Feast, of which
Himself was to be ' the Lamb ' of sacrifice.
The first station reached was Jericho, the ' City of
Palms,' a distance of only about six hours from Jerusalem.
The ancient City occupied not the site ofthe present wretched
hamlet, but lay about half an hour to the north-west of it,
by the so-called Elisha-Spring. A second spring rose an
hour further to the north-north-west. The water of these
springs distributed by aqueducts gave, under a tropical
sky, unsurpassed fertility to the rich soil along the ' plain '
of Jericho, which is about twelve or fourteen miles wide.
Herod the Great had first plundered, and then partially
rebuilt, fortified, and adorned Jericho. It was here that

In Jericho 45 1
he died. Long before, it had recovered its ancient fame
for fertility and its prosperity. If to its special advantages
of climate, soil, and productions we add that it lay on the
caravan-road from Damascus and Arabia, that it was a
great commercial and military centre, and lastly, its near
ness to Jerusalem, to which it formed the last ' station '
on the road of the festive pilgrims from Galilee and Peresa
— it will not be difficult to understand either its importance
or its prosperity.
We can picture to ourselves the scene, as our Lord on
that afternoon in early spring beheld it. There it was,
indeed, already summer, for, as Josephus tells us, even in
winter the inhabitants could only bear the lightest clothing
of linen. It is protected by walls, flanked by four forts.
These walls, the theatre, and the amphitheatre, have been
built by Herod ; the new palace and its splendid gardens
are the work of Archelaus. All around wave groves of
palms, rising in stately beauty ; stretch gardens of roses,
and especially sweet-scented balsam - plantations — the
largest behind the royal gardens, of which the perfume is
carried by the wind almost out to sea, and which may have
given to the city its name (Jericho, ' the perfumed '). And
in the streets of Jericho a motley throng meets : pilgrims
from Galilee and Persea, priests who have a ' station ' here,
traders from all lands, who have come to purchase or
to sell, or are on the great caravan-road from Arabia
and Damascus — robbers and anchorites, wild fanatics,
soldiers, courtiers, and busy publicans — for Jericho Was
the central station for the collection of tax and custom,
both on native produce and on that brought from across
Jordan. It was through Jericho that Jesus, ' having entered,'
» st. Luke was passing." Tidings of the approach of the
rix-1"10 band, consisting of His disciples and Apostles,
and headed by the Master Himself, must have preceded
Him these six miles from the fords of Jordan. His Name,
His Works, His Teaching — perhaps Himself, must have
been known to the people of Jericho, just as they must
have been aware of the feelings of the leaders of the people,
G G 2

452 Jesus the Messiah
perhaps of the approaching great contest between them
and the Prophet of Nazareth. Was He a good man ; had
He wrought those great miracles in the power of God or by
Satanic influence — was He the Messiah or the Antichrist ;
would He bring salvation to the world, or entail ruin on
His own nation : conquer or be destroyed ? Close by was
Bethany, whence tidings had come, most incredible yet
unquestioned and unquestionable, of the raising of Lazarus.
And yet the Sanhedrin — it was well known — had resolved
on His death ! At any rate there was no concealment
about Him ; and here, in face of all, and accompanied by
His followers — humble and unlettered, but thoroughly con
vinced of His superhuman claims, and deeply attached — -
Jesus was going up to Jerusalem to meet His enemies !
It was the custom when a festive band passed through
a place, that the inhabitants gathered in the streets to bid
their brethren welcome. And on that afternoon surely
scarce any one in Jericho but would go forth to see this
pilgrim-band. A solid wall of onlookers before their
gardens was this ' crowd ' along the road by which Jesus
' was to pass.' Would He only pass through the place, or
be the guest of some of the leading priests in Jericho ;
would He teach or work any miracle, or silently go on His
way to Bethany ? Only one in all that crowd seemed un
welcome ; alone, and out of place. It was the ' chief of
the Publicans ' — the head of the tax and customs depart
ment. As his name shows, he was a Jew : but yet that
very name Zacch&sus, ' Zakkai ' ' the just 'or 'pure,' sounded
like mockery. We know in what repute Publicans were
held, and what opportunities of wrong-doing and oppression
they possessed. And from his after-confession it is only
too evident that Zacchseus had to the full used them for
evil. And he had got that for which he had given up alike
his nation and his soul : ' he was rich.' If, as Christ had
taught, it was harder for any rich man to enter the Kingdom
of Heaven than for a camel to pass through the eye of a
needle, what of him who had gotten his riches by such
means ?
The narrative is singularly detailed and pictorial.

A Guest with Zacchaius 453
Zacchaeus, trying to push his way through ' the press,' and
repulsed ; Zacchaeus, ' little of stature,' and unable to look
over the shoulders of others.
Needless questions have been asked as to the import
of Zacchssus' wish ' to see who Jesus was.' It is just this
vagueness of desire, which Zacchssus himself does not
understand, that is characteristic. And since he cannot
otherwise succeed, he climbs up one of those wide-spread
ing sycamores in a garden, perhaps close to his own house,
along the only road by which Jesus can pass — ' to see Him.'
Now the band is approaching, through that double living
wall : first, the Saviour, viewing the crowd, but with
different thoughts from theirs — surrounded by His Apostles,
the face of each expressive of such feelings as were upper
most ; conspicuous among them, he who ' carried the bag,'
with furtive, uncertain glance here and there, as one who
seeks to gather himself up to a terrible deed. Behind them
are the disciples, men and women, who are going up with-
Him to the Feast. Of all persons in that crowd the least
noted, the most hindered in coming- — and yet the one
most concerned, was the Chief Publican. Never more
self-unconscious was Zacchaeus than at the moment when
Jesus was entering that garden-road and passing under
the overhanging branches of that sycamore, the crowd
closing up behind, and following as He went along. Only
one thought — without ulterior conscious object, temporal
or spiritual — filled his whole being. The present abso
lutely held him — when those Eyes out of which heaven
itself seemed to look upon earth, were upturned, and that
Face of infinite grace, never to be forgotten, beamed
upon him the welcome of recognition, and He uttered
the self-spoken invitation in which the invited was the
real Inviter, the guest the true Host.
As bidden by Christ, Zaccheeus ' made haste and came
down.' Under the influence of the Holy Ghost he
' received Him rejoicing.' Nothing was as yet clear to
him, and yet all was joy within his soul. But a few steps
farther, and they were at the house of the Chief Publican.
But now the murmur of disappointment and anger ran

454 Jesus the Messiah
through the accompanying crowd — which perhaps had
not before heard what had passed between Jesus and
the Publican— because He was gone to be guest with a
man that was a sinner. And it was this sudden shock
of opposition which awoke Zacchaeus to full conscious
ness. In that moment Zacch&eus saw it all : what his
past had been, what his present was, what his future
must be. Standing forth, not so much before the crowd
as before the Lord, and scarcely conscious of the confession
it implied — Zacchaeus vowed fourfold restoration, as by a
thief," of what had become his through false
¦ Ex. xxu. 1 accusation, as well as the half of all his goods to
the poor. And so the whole current of his life had been
turned in those few moments ; and Zacchaeus the public
robber, the rich Chief of the Publicans, had become an
almsgiver. It was then that Jesus spake in the hearing of all for
itheir and our teaching : ' This day became — arose — there
salvation to this house,' ' forasmuch as,' truly and spiritu
ally, ' this one also is a son of Abraham.' And as regards
this man and all men, so long as time endureth : ' For the
Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was lost.'
The Evangelic record passes with significant silence
over that night in the house of Zacchaeus. It was in the
morning-, when the journey in company with His
xx. 29-34; disciples was resumed, that the next public inci-
46J2? st' dent occurred in the healing of the blind by the
^|XTiiL wayside.b It may have been that, as St. Matthew
relates, there were two blind men sitting by the
wayside, and that St. Luke and St. Mark mention only
one — the latter by name as ' Bar Timseus ' — because he
was the spokesman.
Once more the crowd was following Jesus, as He re
sumed the journey with His disciples. And there by the
wayside, begging, sat the blind men. As they heard the
tramp of many feet and the sound of many voices, they
learned that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by. But what
must their faith have been, when there, in Jericho, they
not only owned Him as the true Messiah, but cried — in a

The Healing of Blind Bartimmus 455
mode of address significant, as coming from Jewish lips :
' Jesus, Thou Son of David, have mercy on me ! ' It was
in accordance with what one might almost have expected —
certainly with the temper of Jericho, as we learnt it on
the previous evening, when ' many,' the ' multitude,' ' they
which went before,' would have bidden that cry for help
be silent as an unwarrantable intrusion and interruption.
But only all the louder and more earnest rose the petition,
as the blind felt that they might for ever be robbed of the
opportunity that was slipping past. And He, Who listens
to every cry of distress, heard this. He stood still, and
commanded the blind to be called. Then it was that the
sympathy of sudden hope seized the ' multitude ' — the
wonder about to be wrought fell upon them, as they com
forted the blind in the agony of rising despair with the
• st Mark words, ' He calleth thee.' a As so often, we are
x-*9 indebted to St. Mark for the vivid sketch of
what passed. We can almost see Bartimseus as, on receiv
ing Christ's summons, he casts aside his upper garment
and hastily comes. That question : what he would that
Jesus should do unto him, must have been meant for those
around more than for the blind. The cry to the Son of
David had been only for mercy. It might have been for
alms — though, as the address, so the gift bestowed in
answer, would be right royal — ' after the order of David.'
But the faith of the blind rose to the full height of the
Divine possibilities opened before them. Their inward
eyes had received capacity for The Light, before that of
earth lit up their long darkness. In the language of St.
Matthew, ' Jesus had compassion on them, and touched their
eyes.' This is one aspect of it. The other is that given by
St. Mark and St. Luke, in recording the words with which
He accompanied the healing : ' Thy faith hath saved thee/
And these two results came of it : ' all the people,
when they saw it, gave praise unto God ; ' and as for
Bartimseus, though Jesus had bidden him ' go thy way,'
yet ' immediately he received his sight,' he ' fol-
» st. Luke j_owecl Jesus in the way,' glorifying God.b
The arrival of the Paschal band from Galilee and Peraea

456 Jesus the Messiah
was not in advance of many others. In truth, most pil
grims from a distance would probably come to the Holy
City some days before the Feast, for the sake of purification
in the Temple, since those who for any reason needed
such — and there would be few families that did not —
generally deferred it till the festive season brought them
to Jerusalem. We owe this notice, and that which follows,
»st John to St. John,a and in this again recognise the
xi. 55-57 Jewish writer of the Fourth Gospel. It was only
natural that these pilgrims should have sought for Jesus,
and, when they did not find Him, discuss among them
selves the probability of His coming to the Feast. His
absence would, after the work which He had done these
three years, the claim which He made, and the defiant
denial of it by the priesthood and the Sanhedrin, have been
regarded as a virtual surrender to the enemy. There was
a time when He need not have appeared at the Feast
— when, as we see, it was better fie should not come.
But that time was past. The chief priests and the Phari
sees also knew it, and they 'had given commandment
that, if any one knew where He was, he should show it,
that they might take Him.' It would be better to as
certain where He lodged, and to seize Him before He
appeared in public, in the Temple.
But it was not as they had imagined. Without con
cealment Christ came to Bethany, where Lazarus lived,
whom He had raised from the dead. He came there six
days before the Passover — and yet His coming was such
» st. John that they could not ' take Him.' b They might
xii- 1 as well take Him in the Temple ; nay, more
easily. For the moment His stay in Bethany became
known, ' much people of the Jews ' came out, not only for
His sake, but to see that Lazarus whom He had raised
from the dead. And of those who so came many went
away believing. Thus one of their plans was frustrated.
The Sanhedrin could perhaps not be moved to such flagrant
° st. John outrage of all Jewish Law, but ' the chief priests,'
xii. 10, n wjj0 had no such scruples, consulted how they
might put Lazarus also to death.0

In the House of Simon the Leper 457
Yet, not until His hour had come could man do aught
against Christ or His disciples. And in contrast to such
scheming, haste, and search, we mark the calm and quiet
of Him Who knew what was before Him. Jesus had
arrived at Bethany six days before the Passover — that is,
on a Friday. The day after was the Sabbath, and ' they
• st John made Him a supper.' a It was the special festive
tSL1 meal of the Sabbath. The words of St. John
seem to indicate that the meal was a public one, as if the
people of Bethany had combined to do Him this honour,
and so share the privilege of attending the feast. In point
of fact, we know from St. Matthew and St. Mark that it
took place ' in the house of Simon the Leper ' — not, of
course, an actual leper — but one who had been such.
Among the guests is Lazarus ; and, prominent in service,
Martha; and Mary (the unnamed woman of the other two
Gospels, which do not mention that household by name)
is also true to her character. She had ' an alabaster ' of
' spikenard genuine,' which was very precious. It held ' a
litra,' which was ' a Roman pound,' and its value could not
have been less than nearly 9Z.
Remembering the fondness of Jewish women for such
perfumes, it is, at least, not unreasonable to suppose that
Mary may have had that ' alabaster ' of very costly ointment
from olden days, before she had learned to serve Christ.
Then, when she came to know Him, and must have learned
how constantly that Decease, of which He ever spoke, was
before His Mind, she may have put it aside, ' kept it,
against the day of His burying.' And now the decisive
hour had come. Jesus may have told her, as He had told
the disciples, what was before Him in Jerusalem at the
Feast, and she would be far more quick to understand,
even as she must have known far better than they, how
great was the danger from the Sanhedrin. And it is this
believing apprehension of the mystery of His Death on
her part, and this preparation of deepest love for it — this
mixture of sorrow, faith, and devotion — which made her
deed so precious, that, wherever in the future the Gospel
should be preached, this also that she had done should be

458 Jesus the Messiah
recorded for a memorial of her.a And the more we think
• st. Matt or" it, the better can we understand how, at that
*™- 13 last feast of fellowship, when all the other guests
realised not — not even His disciples — how near the ena
was, she would ' come aforehand to anoint His Body for
» st. Mark the burying.' b Her faith made it a twofold
xiT-8 anointing: that of the best Guest at the last
feast, and that of preparation for that Burial which, of all
others, she apprehended as so terribly near. And so she
poured, the precious ointment over His Head, over His
Feet — then, stooping over them, wiped them with her
hair, as if not only in evidence of service and love, but in
fellowship of His Death.0 c And the house was
filled ' — as to all time His House, the Church, is
filled — ' with the odour of the ointment.'
It is ever the light which throws the shadows of objects
— and this deed of faith and love now cast the features of
Judas in dark outlines against the scene. He knew the
nearness of Christ's Betrayal, and hated the more; she
knew of the nearness of fiis precious Death, and ioved
the more. It was not that he cared for the poor, when,
taking the mask of charity, he simulated anger that such
costly ointment had not been sold and the price given to
the poor. For he was essentially dishonest, ' a thief,' and
covetousness was the underlying master-passion of his
soul. The money, claimed for the poor, would only have
been used by himself. Yet such was his pretence of
righteousness, such his influence as ' a man of prudence '
among the disciples, and such their weakness, that they,
a st. Mark or at least ' some,' d expressed indignation among
X1T-41 themselves and against her who had done the
deed of love. There is something inexpressibly sad, yet
patient and tender, in Christ's ' Let her alone.' That He
Who was ever of the poor and with them, Who for our
sakes became poor that through His poverty we might be
made rich, should have to plead for a last service of love
to Himself, and for Mary, and as against a Judas, seems
indeed the depth of self-abasement. Yet, even so, has
this falsely-spoken plea for the poor become a real plea,

The First Day in Passion-Week 459
since He has left us this, as it were, as His last charge,
and that by His own Death, that we have the poor always
with us. And so do even the words of covetous dishonesty
become transformed into the command of charity, and the
Church does constant service to Christ in the ministry to
His poor.

CHAPTER LXXI.

THE FIRST DAY IN PASSION-WEEK — THE ROYAL ENTRY
INTO JERUSALEM.
(St. Matt. xxi. 1-11 ; St. Mark xi. 1-11 ; St. Luke xix. 29-44 ;
St. John xii. 12-19.)
At length the time of the end had come. Jesus was
about to make Entry into Jerusalem as King : King of
the Jews, as Heir of David's royal line, with all of sym
bolic, typic, and prophetic import attaching to it. Yet
not as Israel after the flesh expected its Messiah was the
Son of David to make triumphal entrance, but as deeply
and significantly expressive of His Mission and Work,
and as of old the rapt seer had beheld afar off the outlined
picture of the Messiah-King ; not in the proud triumph
of war-conquests, but in the ' meek ! rule of peace.
It was a day in the early spring of the year 29, when
the festive procession set out from the home at Bethany.
There can be no reasonable doubt as to the locality of that
hamlet (the modern Ef-'Azariye, ' of Lazarus '), perched
on a broken rocky plateau on the other side of Olivet.
More difficulty attaches to the identification of Bethphage,
which is associated with it, the place not being men
tioned in the Old Testament, though repeatedly, but with
contradictory statements of locality, in Jewish writings.
Perhaps the name Bethphage — ' house of figs ' — was given
alike to that district generally, and to a little village close
to Jerusalem where the district began.
Although all the four Evangelists relate Christ's Entry
into Jerusalem, they seem to do so from different stand
points. The Synoptists accompany Him from Bethany,

460 Jesus the Messiah
while St. John, in accordance with the general scheme of
his narrative, seems to follow from Jerusalem that multi
tude which, on tidings of His approach, hastened to meet
Him. It was probably soon after His outset that He sent
•comp. st. the 'two disciples' — possibly Peter and John"
Lukexxii. 8 — int0 'the village over against' them — pre
sumably Bethphage. There they would find by the side of
the road an ass's colt tied, whereon never man had sat. We
mark the significant symbolism of the latter, in connec
tion with the general conditions of consecration
INtim. xix
2 ; Deut. ' to Jehovah b — and note in it, as also in the
Mission of the Apostles, that this was intended
by Christ to be His Royal and Messianic Entry. This
colt they were to loose and to bring to Him.
The disciples found all as He had said. When they
reached Bethphage, they saw by a doorway where two
roads met the colt tied by its mother. As they loosed it,
_,.,,, ' the owners ' and ' certain of them that stood by ' °
0 St JiiErk *
comp. also ' asked their purpose, to which, as directed by the
st. Matthew Master, they answered : 'The Lord [the Master,
Christ] hath need of him,' when, as predicted, no further
hindrance was offered.
We can understand how, so soon as from the bearing
and the peculiar words of the disciples they understood their
purpose, the owners of the ass and colt would grant the use
of the colt for the solemn Entry into the City of the Teacher
of Nazareth, Whom the multitude was so eagerly expecting ;
and again how, as from the gates of Jerusalem tidings
spread of what had passed in Bethphage, the multitude
would stream forth to meet Jesus.
Meantime Christ and those who followed Him from
Bethany had entered on the well-known caravan-road from
Jericho to Jerusalem. It is the most southern of three
which converge close to the City, perhaps at the very place
where the colt had stood tied. ' The road soon loses sight
of Bethany. It is now a rough, but still broad and well-
defined mountain-track, winding over rock and loose stones ;
a steep declivity on the left ; the sloping shoulder of Olivet
above on the right ; fig-trees below and above^ here and

The Royal Entry into Jerusalem 461
there growing out of the rocky soil.' Somewhere here
the disciples who brought ' the colt ' must have met Him.
They were accompanied by many, and immediately followed
by more. For, as already stated, Bethphage — we presume
the village— formed almost part of Jerusalem, and during
Easter-week must have been crowded by pilgrims, who
could not find accommodation within the City walls. And
the announcement that disciples of Jesus had just fetched
the beast of burden on which Jesus was about to enter
Jerusalem, must have quickly spread among the crowds
which thronged the Temple and the City. With these
went also a number of 'Pharisees,' their hearts full of
jealousy and hatred. As we shall presently see, it is of
importance to keep in mind this composition of the
' multitude.' As the two disciples, accompanied or immediately fol
lowed by the multitude, brought ' the colt ' to Christ, ' two
streams of people met ' — the one coming from the City,
the other from Bethany. The disciples, who understood
• st. John not," till the light of the Resurrection-glory had
xii- 1S been poured on their minds, the significance of
'these things,' even after they had occurred, seem not even
to have guessed that it was of set purpose Jesus was about
to make His Royal Entry into Jerusalem. Their enthusiasm
seems only to have been kindled when they saw the pro
cession from the town come to meet Jesus with palm-
branches cut down by the way, and greeting Him with
Hosanna-shouts of welcome. Then they spread their gar
ments on the colt, and set Jesus thereon. Then also in
their turn they cut down branches from the trees and gardens
through which they passed, or plaited and twisted palm-
i> st Luke branches, and strewed them as a rude matting in
xix. 3r, 38 j=r^g way; -while they joined in, and soon raised
to a much higher pitch b the fiosanna of welcoming praise.
They had now ranged themselves : the multitude which
had come from the City preceding, that which had come
with Him from Bethany following the triumphant progress
of Israel's King, ' meek, and sitting upon an ass, and a colt
the foal of an ass.' ' Gradually the long procession swept

462 Jesus the Messiah
up and over the ridge where first begins " the descent of
the Mount of Olives " towards Jerusalem. At this point
the first view is caught of the south-eastern corner of the
City. The Temple and the more northern portions are hid
by the slope of Olivet on the right ; what is seen is only
Mount Zion, now for the most part a rough field.' But at
that time it rose, terrace upon terrace, from the Palace of
the Maccabees and that of the High-Priest, a very city of
palaces, till the eye rested in the summit on that castle,
city, and palace, with its frowning towers and magnificent
gardens, the royal abode of Herod, supposed to occupy the
very site of the Palace of David. They had been greeting
Him with Hosannas ! But enthusiasm, especially in such
a cause, is infectious. They were mostly stranger-pilgrims
» st. John that had come from the City, chiefly because
3dt 18 they had heard of the raising of Lazarus.a And
now they must have questioned them which came from
Bethany, who in turn related that of which themselves had
b been eyewitnesses.b It may have been just as
the precise point of the road was reached where
* the City of David ' first suddenly emerges into view, ' at
the descent of the Mount of Olives,' ' that the whole multi
tude of the disciples began to rejoice and praise God with
a loud voice for all the mighty works that they
had seen.' ° As the burning words of joy and
praise, the record of what they had seen, passed from
mouth to mouth, and they caught their first sight of ' the
City of David,' adorned as a bride to welcome her King —
Davidic praise to David's Greater Son wakened the echoes
of old Davidic Psalms. ' Hosanna to the Son of David !
Blessed be He that cometh in the Name of the Lord. . . .
Blessed the Kingdom that cometh, the Kingdom of our
father David. . . . Blessed be He that cometh in the Name
of the Lord. . . . Hosanna . . . Hosanna in the highest.
. . . Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest.'
They were but broken utterances, partly based upon
Ps. cxviii., partly taken from it — the ' fiosanna,' or ' Save
" Ps. oxviu. now,' and the ' Blessed be He that cometh in the
25, 26 Name of the Lord,' d forming part of the re-

The Royal Entry into Jerusalem 463
sponses by the people with which this Psalm was chanted on
certain of the most solemn festivals. At the same time it
must .be remembered that, according to Jewish tradition,
Ps. cxviii. vv. 25—28 was also chanted antiphonally by the
people of Jerusalem, as they went to welcome the festive
pilgrims on their arrival, the latter always responding in
the second clause of each verse, till the last verse of the
Psalm a was reached, which was sung by both
• vex. 29 . .
parties in unison, Psalm ciii. 17 being added by
way of conclusion. But as ' the shout rang through the
long defile,' carrying evidence far and wide, that, so far
from condemning and forsaking, more than the ordinary
pilgrim-welcome had been given to Jesus — the Pharisees,
who had mingled with the crowd, turned to one another
with angry frowns ; ' Behold [see intently], how ye prevail
nothing ! See — the world is gone after Him ! ' Then
they made a desperate appeal to the Master Himself, Whom
they so bitterly hated, to check and rebuke the honest zeal
of fiis disciples. He had been silent hitherto, but now,
with a touch of quick and righteous indignation, He pointed
to the rocks and stones, telling those leaders of Israel that, if
b the people held their peace, the very stones would
cry out.b Silence has fallen these many centuries
upon Israel ; but the very stones of Jerusalem's ruin and
desolateness have cried out that He, Whom in their silence
they rejected, has come as King in the Name of the
Lord. ' Again the procession advanced. The road descends
a slight declivity, and the glimpse of the City is again
withdrawn behind the intervening ridge of Olivet. A
few moments and the path mounts again, it climbs a
rugged ascent, it reaches a ledge of smooth rock, and
in an instant the whole City bursts into view. ... It is
hardly possible to doubt that this rise and turn of the
road — this rocky ledge — was the exact point where the
multitude paused again, and " He, when He beheld the
City, wept over it." ' Not with still weeping, as at the
grave of Lazarus, but with loud and deep lamentation.
The contrast was indeed terrible between the Jerusalem

464 Jesus the Messiah
that rose before Him in all its beauty, glory, and security,
and the Jerusalem which He saw in vision dimly rising
on the sky, with the camp of the enemy round about it on
eveiy side, and the very ' stockade ' which the Roman
Legions raised ; then, another scene in the shifting pano
rama, and the City laid with the ground, the bodies of her
children among her ruins ; and yet another scene : the
silence and desolateness of death by the Hand of God —
not one stone left upon another !
But for the present, on that bright spring-day, the
weak, fickle populace streamed before Him through the
City-gates, through the narrow streets, up the Temple-
mount. Everywhere the tramp of their feet and the
shout of their exclamations brought men, women, and
children into the streets and on the housetops. The City
was moved, and from mouth to mouth the question passed
among the eager crowd of curious onlookers : ' Who is
He ? ' And the multitude answered — not, this is Israel's
Messiah -King, but : ' This is Jesus the Prophet of Nazareth
of Galilee.' And so up into the Temple !
He alone spake not, but only looked round about upon
all things, as if to view the field on which He was to
suffer and die. And now the shadows of evening were
creeping up ; and, weary and sad, He once more returned
with the twelve disciples to the shelter and rest of Bethany.

CHAPTER LXXII.

THE SECOND DAY IN PASSION-WEEK  THE BARREN FIG-TREE
— THE CLEANSING OF THE TEMPLE  THE HOSANNA OF
THE CHILDREN.
(St. Matt. xxi. 12-22; St. Mark xi. 15-26; St. Luke xix. 45-48.)
How the King of Israel spent the night after the triumphal
• st Mark Entry into His City and Temple, we may venture
LnkevSti6; reverently to infer. We know how often His
st Matt. ' nights had been spent in lonely prayer,a and
Luicevi. 12 ; surely it is not too bold to associate such thoughts

ix. 28

with the first night in Passion-week Thus also

The Barren Fig-Tree 465
we can most readily account for that exhaustion and faint*
ness of hunger, which next morning made Him seek fruit
on the fig-tree on His way to the City.
It was very early on the morning of the second day
in Passion-week (Monday), when Jesus with His dis
ciples left Bethany. In the fresh, crisp, spring air, after
the exhaustion of that night, ' fie hungered.' By the
roadside, as so often in the East, a solitary tree grew in
the rocky soil. It must have stood on an eminence,
where it caught the sunshine and warmth, for He saw it
' afar off,' a green, against the sky. ' It was not
the season of figs,' but the tree, covered with
leaves, attracted His attention. It might have been that
they hid some of the fruit which hung through the winter,
or else the springing fruits of the new crop. For it is a
well-known fact that in Palestine 'the fruit appears
before the leaves ; ' and that this fig-tree, whether from its
exposure or soil, was precocious, is evident from the fact
that it was in leaf, which is quite unusual at that season
on the Mount of Olives. The old fruit would, of course,
have been edible, and in regard to the unripe fruit we
have the evidence of the Mishnah, confirmed by the
Talmud, that the unripe fruit was eaten so soon as it
began to assume a red colour — as it is expressed, ' in the
field, with bread,' or, as we understand it, by those whom
hunger overtook in the fields, whether working or travelling.
But in the present case there was neither old nor new
fruit, ' but leaves only.' It was evidently a barren fig-
tree, cumbering the ground, and to be hewn down. Our
mind almost instinctively reverts to the Parable of the
»st Luke Barren Fig-tree, which Jesus had so lately
xiii. 6-9 spoken b To Him, Who but yesterday had wept
over the Jerusalem that knew not the day of its visitation,
and over which the sharp axe ofjudgment was already lifted,
this fig-tree with its luxuriant leaves must have recalled,
with pictorial vividness, the scene of the previous day.
Israel was that barren fig-tree ; and the leaves only
covered their nakedness, as erst they had that of our first
parents after their Fall. And the judgment symbolically H H

466 Jesus the Messiah
spoken in the Parable must be symbolically executed in
this leafy fig-tree, barren when searched for fruit by the
Master. According to the more detailed account of St.
Mark, it was only next morning, when they again passed
by, that they noticed the fig-tree had withered from its
very roots. The spectacle attracted their attention, and
vividly recalled the Words of Christ, to which on the
previous day they had, perhaps, scarcely attached sufficient
importance. And it was the suddenness and completeness
of the judgment that had been denounced which now
struck Peter, rather than its symbolic meaning. Peter's
words are at least capable of this interpretation, that the
fig-tree had withered in consequence of, rather than by
the Word of Christ. His answer combined all that they
needed to learn. It pointed to the typical lesson of what
had taken place : the need of realising, simple faith, the
absence of which was the cause of Israel's leafy barrenness,
and which, if present and active, could accomplish all,
however impossible it might seem by outward means.
To one who ' shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe
that what he saith cometh to pass, it shall be to him.'
And this general principle of the Kingdom, which to the
reverent believer needs neither explanation nor limitation,
received its further application, specially to the Apostles
in their coming need : ' Therefore I say unto you,
whatsoever things, praying, ye ask for, believe that ye
have received them [not, in the counsel of God, but
actually, in answer to the prayer of faith], and it shall
be to you.'
On the previous afternoon, when Christ had come to the
Temple, the services were probably over, and the Sanctuary
comparatively empty of worshippers and of those who
there carried on their traffic. When treating of the first
cleansing of the Temple, at the beginning of Christ's
Ministry, sufficient has been said to explain the character
and mode of that nefarious traffic, the profits of which went
to the leaders of the priesthood, as also how popular indig
nation was roused alike against this trade and the traders.
We need not here recall the words of Christ; Jewish

Second Cleansing of the Temple 467
authorities sufficiently describe, in even stronger terms,
this transformation of ' the House of Prayer ' into ' a den
of robbers.' If, when beginning to do the ' business ' of
His Father, and for the first time publicly presenting Him
self with Messianic claim, it was fitting He should take
such authority, and first ' cleanse the Temple,' much more
was this appropriate now, at the close of fiis Work, when
as King He had entered His City and publicly claimed
authority. At the first it had been for teaching and warn
ing, now it was in symbolic judgment ; what and as He
then began, that and so He now finished. Accordingly,
as we compare the words, and even some of the acts, of the
first ' cleansing ' with those accompanying and explaining
the second, we find the latter bearing a different character
— that of final judicial sentence.
Nor did the Temple-authorities now, as on the former
occasion, seek to raise the populace against Him, or
challenge His authority by demanding the warrant of ' a
sign.' The contest had reached quite another stage. They
heard what He said in their condemnation, and with bitter
hatred in their hearts sought for some means to destroy
Him. But fear of the people restrained their violence.
For marvellous indeed was the power which He wielded.
With rapt attention the people hung on His lips,a
'astonished' at those new and blessed truths
which dropped from them. By His authority the Temple
was cleansed ofthe unholy, thievish traffic which a corrupt
priesthood carried on, and so for the time restored to the
solemn Service of God; and that purified House now
became the scene of Christ's teaching, when He spake those
words of truth and of comfort concerning the Father —
thus realising the prophetic promise of ' a fiouse of Prayer
for all the nations.' b And as those traffickers
31 were driven from the Temple, and He spake,
there flocked in from porches and Temple-Mount sufferers
— the blind and the lame — to get healing to body and soul.
It was truly spring-time in that Temple, and the boys that
gathered about their fathers, and looked in turn from their
faces of wonderment and enthusiasm to the Godlike Face
H h 2

468 Jesus the Messiah
of the Christ, and then on those healed sufferers, took up
the echoes of the welcome at His entrance into Jerusalem
— in their simplicity understanding and applying them
better — as they burst into 'Hosanna to the Son of
David ! '
It rang through the courts and porches of the Temple,
this Children's Hosanna. They heard it, whom the
wonders He had spoken and done, so far from leading to
repentance and faith, had only filled with indignation.
Once more in their impotent anger they sought, as the
Pharisees had done on the day of His Entry, by a hypo
critical appeal to His reverence for God, not only to
mislead, and so to use His very love of the truth against
the truth, but to betray Him into silencing those Children's
voices. But not from the great, the wise, nor the learned,
but ' out of the mouth of babes and sucklings ' has He ' per
fected praise.' This, also, is the Music of the Gospel.

CHAPTER LXXIIL
the third day in passion-week  the question of
Christ's authority — the question of tribute to
ciesar  the widow's farthing  the greeks who
sought to see jesus.
(St. Matt. xxi. 23-27 ; St. Mark xi. 27-33 ; St. Luke xx. 1-8 ; St. Matt.
xxii. 15-22 ; St Mark xii. 13-17 ; St. Luke xx. 20-26 ; St. Matt. xxii.
41-46 ; St. Luke xxi. 1-4 ; St. John xii. 20-50.)
This chapter will be devoted to the events of the third day
in Passion-Week. 1. As usually, the day commenced " with teaching in
• st. Mat- the Temple.b We gather this from the expres-
kstLuke si°n : ' as He was walking,' ° viz., in one of the
« st. Mark Porches, where, as we know, considerable freedom
of meeting, conversing, or even teaching, was allowed. It
will be remembered that on the previous day the authori
ties had been afraid to interfere with Him. But with the
night and morning other counsels had come. From the

The Question of Christ's Authority 469
formal manner in which ' the chief priests, the scribes,
and the elders ' are introduced," and from the circumstance
• st m that they so met Christ immediately on His entry
into the Temple, we can scarcely doubt that a
meeting, although informal, of the authorities had been
held to concert measures against the growing danger.
Yet, even so, they dared not directly oppose Him, but
endeavoured, by attacking Him on the one point where
He seemed to lay Himself open to it, to arrogate to them
selves the appearance of strict legality, and so to turn
popular feeling against Him.
For there was no principle more firmly established by
universal consent than that authoritative teaching required
previous authorisation. Indeed, this logically followed
from the principle of Rabbinism. All teaching must be
authoritative, since it was traditional — approved by
authority, and handed down from teacher to disciple. The
highest honour of a scholar was that he was like a well;
plastered cistern, from which not a drop had leaked of
what had been poured into it. The ultimate appeal in
cases of discussion was always to some great authority,
whether an individual Teacher or a Decree by the
Sanhedrin. And to decide differently from authority
was either the mark of ignorant assumption or the out
come of daring rebellion, in either case to be visited with
' the ban.' And this was at least one aspect of the contro
versy as between the chief authorities and Jesus. No one
would have thought of interfering with a mere Haggadist
— a popular expositor, preacher, or teller of legends. But
authoritatively to teach required other warrant. In fact,
there was regular ordination to the office of Rabbi, Elder,
and Judge, for the three functions were combined in one.
At whatever periods this practice may have been intro
duced, it is at least certain that, at the time of our Lord,
no one would have ventured authoritatively to teach with
out proper Rabbinic authorisation. The question there
fore with which the Jewish authorities met Christ, while
teaching, was one which had a very real meaning, and ap
pealed to the habits and feelings of the people who

470 Jesus the Messiah
listened to Jesus. Otherwise also it was cunningly
framed. For it did not merely challenge Him for
teaching, but also asked for His authority in what He did ;
referring not only to His Work generally, but perhaps
especially to what had happened on the previous day.
They were not there to oppose Him ; but when a man did
as He had done in the Temple, it was their duty to verify
his credentials. Finally, the alternative question reported
by St. Mark : ' or ' — if Thou hast not proper Rabbinic
commission — ' who gave Thee this authority to do these
things ? ' seems clearly to point to their contention, that
the power which Jesus wielded was delegated to Him by
none other than Beelzebul.
But the Lord answered their question, though He also
exposed the cunning and cowardice which prompted it.
To the challenge for His authority, and the dark hint
about Satanic agency, He replied by an appeal to the
Baptist. He had borne full witness to the Mission of
Christ from the Father, and ' all men counted John, that
he was a prophet indeed.' Were they satisfied ? What
was their view of the Baptism in preparation for the
Coming of Christ? They would not, or could not,
answer. If they said the Baptist was a prophet, this
implied not only the authorisation of the Mission of Jesus,
but the call to believe on Him. On the other hand, they
were afraid publicly to disown John. And so they were
self-condemned, when they pleaded ignorance — a plea so
grossly and manifestly dishonest, that Christ could refuse
further discussion with them on this point.
2. Foiled in their endeavour to involve Him with the
ecclesiastical, they next attempted the more dangerous
device of bringing Him into collision with the civil authori
ties. Remembering, the ever watchful jealousy of Rome,
the tyranny of Pilate, and the low artifices ot Herod,
• st Luke wit° was at that time in Jerusalem,3, we instinc-
X3dii-7 tively feel how even the slightest compromise
on the part of Jesus in regard to the authority of Ceesar
would have been absolutely fatal. If it could have been
proved on undeniable testimony that Jesus had declared

The Question of Tribute to Caisar 471
Himself on the side of, or even encouraged, the so-called
'Nationalist' party, He would have quickly perished,
like Judas of Galilee.a The Jewish leaders
would thus have readily accomplished their ob
ject, and its unpopularity have recoiled only on the
hated Roman power. How great the danger was which
threatened Jesus may be gathered from this, that, despite
His clear answer, the charge that He perverted the
nation, forbidding to give tribute to Caesar, was actu-
b st Luke ally among those brought against Him before
s*"'-2 Pilate."
The object of the plot was to ' spy ' out His inmost
• st Luke thoughts,0 and, if possible, ' entangle ' Him in
a st. Mat- His talk.4 For this purpose it was not the old
Pharisees whom He knew and would have dis
trusted, who came, but some of their disciples — apparently
earnest conscientious men. With them had combined
certain of ' the Herodians ' — not a sect nor religious school,
but a political party at the time. We know comparatively
little of the deeper political movements in Judaea ; but we
cannot be greatly mistaken in regarding the Herodians
as a party which honestly accepted the House of Herod as
occupants of the Jewish throne.
Feigning themselves just men, these now came to
Jesus with honeyed words, intended not only to disarm
His suspicions, but, by an appeal to His fearlessness and
singleness of moral purpose, to induce Him to commit
Himself without reserve. Was it lawful for them to give
tribute unto Caesar, or not ? were they to pay the capita
tion tax of one drachm, or to refuse it ? We know how
later Judaism would have answered such a question. It
lays down the principle that the right of coinage implies
the authority of levying taxes, and indeed constitutes such
evidence of de facto government as to make it duty abso
lutely to submit to it. On the other hand, there was
a strong party in the land, with which, not only politically
but religiously, many of the noblest spirits would sym
pathise, which maintained that to pay the tribute-money
to Cassar was virtually to own his royal authority, and

472 Jesus the Messiah
so to disown that of Jehovah, Who alone was Israel's
King. The scruple expressed by these men would there
fore, if genuine, have called forth sympathy. But what
was the alternative here presented to Christ ? To have
said No, would have been to command rebellion ; to have
said simply Yes, would have been to give a painful shock
to deep feeling, and, in a sense, in the eyes of the people,
the lie to His own claim of being Israel's Messiah-King.
But the Lord escaped from this ' temptation ' — because,
being true, it was no real temptation to flim. Their hypo
crisy He immediately perceived and exposed, in this also
responding to their appeal of being ' true.' It was a very
real answer, when, pointing to the image and inscription
on the coin for which He had called, He said, ' What is
• st Mark Caesar's render to Cassar, and what is God's to
xiL 17 God.' B If did far more than rebuke their hypo
crisy and presumption ; it answered not only that question
of theirs to all earnest men of that time, as it would pre
sent itself to their minds, but it settles to all time and for
all circumstances the principle underlying it. Christ's
Kingdom is not of this world ; a true Theocracy is not in
consistent with submission to the secular power in things
that are really its own ; politics and religion neither include,
nor yet exclude, each other: they are side by side, in
different domains. The State is Divinely sanctioned, and
religion is Divinely sanctioned — and both are equally the
ordinance of God.
It was an answer which elevated the controversy into
quite another sphere, where there was no conflict between
what was due to God and to man. Nor did it speak
harshly of the Nationalist aspirations, nor yet plead the
cause of Rome. It said not whether the rule of Rome was
right or should be permanent — but only what all must have
felt to be Divine. And so they who had come to ' entangle '
Him ' went away,' not convinced nor converted, but
marvelling exceedingly.
3. Weary with the contention, the Master had left
those to whom He had spoken in the Porches, and while
the crowd wrangled about His Words or His Person, had

The Widow's Farthing 473
ascended the flight of steps which led from ' the Terrace '
into the Temple-building. From these steps He could
gain full view into ' the Court of the Women,' into which
they opened. On these steps, or within the gate (for in
no other place was it lawful), He sat Him down, watching
the multitude. The time of Sacrifice was past, and those
who still lingered had remained for private devotion, for
private sacrifices, or to pay their vows and offerings.
Although the topography of the Temple, especially of this
part of it, is not without its difficulties, we know that
under the colonnades which surrounded ' the Court o1' the
Women,' but still left in the middle room for more than
15,000 worshippers, provision was made for receiving
religious and charitable contributions. All along these
colonnades were the thirteen trumpet- shaped boxes ; some
where here also we must locate two chambers : that of ' the
silent,' for gifts to be distributed in secret to the children of
the pious poor, and that where votive vessels were deposited.
Perhaps there was here also a special chamber for offerings.
These ' trumpets ' bore each inscriptions, marking the ob
jects of contribution — whether to make up for past neglect,
to pay for certain sacrifices, to provide incense, wood, or for
other gifts.
As they passed to this or that treasury-box, some wore
an appearance of self-righteousness, some of ostentation,
some as cheerfully performing a happy duty. ' Many that
were rich cast in much ' — for such was the tendency that
(as already stated) a law had to be enacted, forbidding the
gift to the Temple of more than a certain proportion of
one's possessions.
And as Jesus sat watching on these steps, His gaze
was riveted by a solitary figure. The words of St. Mark
sketch a story of singular pathos ' It was one pauper
widow.' We can see her coming alone, as if ashamed to
mingle with the crowd of rich givers ; ashamed to have
her offering seen ; ashamed perhaps to bring it ; a ' widow,'
in the garb of a desolate mourner ; her condition, appear
ance, and bearing that of a ' pauper.' He observed her
closely and read her truly. She held in her hand only the

474 Jesus the Messiah
smallest coins : ' two Perutahs ' — and it should be known
that it was not lawful to contribute a less amount. To
gether these two Perutahs made what was the ninety-sixth
part of a denar, itself of the value of about sevenpence.
But it was 'all her living.' And of this she now made
humble offering unto God. He spake not to her words of
encouragement, for she walked by faith ; He offered not
promise of return, for her reward was in heaven. Yet
though He spake not to her, the sunshine of His words
must have fallen into the desolateness of her heart ; and,
though perhaps she knew not why, that must have been a
happy day when she gave up ' her whole living ' unto God.
And so perhaps is every sacrifice for God all the more
blessed, when we know not of its blessedness.
4. One other event remains to be recorded on that
» st. John day." But so closely is it connected with what
xii. 20-50 fae LotcI afterwards spoke, that the two cannot
be separated. It is narrated only by St. John, who tells it
as one of a series of progressive manifestations of the
Christ : first, in His Entry into the City, and then in the
Temple — successively, to the Greeks, by the Voice from
Heaven, and before the people.
It was, as we suppose, the evening of a long day of
teaching. As the sun had been hastening towards its
setting in red, He had spoken of that other sun-setting,
with the sky all aglow in judgment, and of the darkness that
was to follow — but also of the better Light that would rise
in it. And in those Temple-porches they had been hear
ing Him — seeing Him in His wonder-working yesterday,
hearing Him in His wonder-speaking that day — those
* men of other tongues.' They were ' Proselytes,' Greeks
oy birth, who had groped their way to the porch of Judaism,
just as the first streaks of the light were falling within
upon its altar.
And so, as the shadows gathered around the Temple-
court and porches, they would fain have ' seen ' Him, not
afar off, but near : spoken to Him. They had become
' Proselytes of Righteousness,' they would become disciples
of ' the Lord our Righteousness ; ' as Proselytes they had

The Greeks Who sought to See Jesus 475
come to Jerusalem ' to worship,' and they would learn to
praise. Yet, in the modesty of their religious childhood,
they dared not go to Jesus directly, but came with their
request to Philip of Bethsaida. We know not why to him :
whether from family connections, or that his education
or previous circumstances connected Philip with these
' Greeks,' or whether anything in his position in the Apo
stolic circle, or something that had just occurred, influenced
their choice. And he also — such was the ignorance of the
Apostles of the inmost meaning of their Master — dared
not go directly to Jesus, but went to his own townsman,
who had been his early friend and fellow-disciple, and now
stood so close to the Person of the Master — Andrew, the
brother of Simon Peter. Together the two came to Jesus,
Andrew apparently foremost. The answer of Jesus implies
what, at any rate, we should have expected, that the
request of these Gentile converts was granted, though this
is not expressly stated, and it is extremely difficult to
determine whether, and what portion of what He spake
was addressed to the Greeks, and what to the disciples.
But it is sufficiently clear to us that our Lord spake
primarily to these Greeks, and secondarily to His disciples,
of the meaning of His impending Death, of the necessity
ot faithfulness to Him in it, and of the blessing attaching
thereto. He was not unconscious of the awful realities
»st. John which this involved." He was true Man, and
xii. 27, 28a jjjg jjuman Soul was troubled in view of it:
True Man, therefore He felt it ; True Man, therefore He
spake it, and so also sympathised with them in their coming
struggle. Truly Man, but also truly more than Man — and
hence both the expressed desire, and at the same time the
victory over that desire : ' What shall I say ? " Father,
save Me from this hour ? But for this cause came I unto
this hour ! " ' And the seeming discord is resolved, as
both the Human and the Divine in the Son — faith and
sight — join in glorious accord : ' Father, glorify Thy
Name!' Such appeal and prayer, made in such circumstances,
could not have remained unacknowledged, if He was the

476 Jesus the Messiah
Messiah, Son of God. As at His Baptism, so at this
Baptism of self-humiliation and absolute submission to
suffering, came the Voice from Heaven, audible to all, but
its words intelligible only to Him : ' I both glorified it, and
»st Joim wul again glorify it!'a Words these, which
xii 28 6-33 carried the Divine seal of confirmation to all
Christ's past work, and assured it for that which was to
come. The words of confirmation could only be for Him
self; ' the Voice ' was for all. What mattered it, that
some spoke of it as thunder on a spring-evening, while
others, with more reason, thought of Angel- Voices ? To
Him it bore the assurance, which had all along been the
ground of His claims, as it was the comfort in His Suffer
ings, that, as God had in the past glorified Himself in the
Son, so would it be in the future in the perfecting of the
work given Him to do. And this He now spake, as, look
ing on those Greeks as the emblem and first-fruits of the
work finished in His Passion, He saw of the travail of His
Soul and was satisfied. Of both He spake in the prophetic
present. To His view judgment had already come to this
world, as it lay in the power of the Evil One, since the
Prince of it was cast out from his present rule. And in
place of it the Crucified Christ, ' lifted up out of the earth '
— in the twofold sense — was, as the result of His Work,
drawing, with sovereign, conquering power, ' all ' unto
Him, and up with Him.
The Jews who heard it so far understood Him, that
His words referred to His removal from earth, or His Death,
since this was a common Jewish mode of expres-
sion.b But even in what they understood, they
had a difficulty. They understood Him to imply that He
would be taken from earth ; and yet they had always been
taught from the Scriptures that the Messiah was, when
fully manifested, to abide for ever, or, as the Rabbis put it,
that His Reign was to be followed by the Resurrection.
Or did He refer to any other One by the expression ' Son
of Man ' ? Into the controversial part of their question the
Lord did not enter ; nor would it have been fitting to have
done so in that ' hour.' But to their inquiry He fully

Last Address in the Temple 477
replied, and that with such earnest, loving admonition as
became His last address in the Temple. Yes ; it was so !
But a little while would the Light be among them. Let
them hasten to avail themselves of it, lest darkness over
take them — and he that walked in darkness knew not
whither he went. While they still had ' the Light,' would
that they might learn to believe in the Light, that so they
might become the children of Light !
They were His last words of appeal to them, ere He
• st John withdrew to spend His Sabbath of soul before the
xa se b Qreat Contest.* And the writer of the fourth
Gospel gathers up, by way of epilogue, the great contrast
between Israel and Christ.b Although He had
shown so many miracles, they believed not on
Him — and this their wilful unbelief was the fulfilment
« is mi. 1 °^ ^saias' prophecy of old concerning the
Messiah.0
Such was Israel. On the other hand, what was the
summary of the Christ's activity ? His testimony now rose so
4 st. John loud as to be within hearing of all (' Jesus cried ').d
m ** From first to last that testimony had pointed from
Himself up to the Father. Its substance was the reality
and the realisation of that which the Old Testament had
infolded and gradually unfolded to Israel, and through Israel
to the world : the Fatherhood of God. To believe on Him
• 45-48 was really n°t faith in Him, but faith in Him
that sent Him. A step higher: To behold Christ
was to behold Him that had sent Him.e
Once more, and more emphatic than ever, was the final
' 49 50 aPPeal to His Mission by the Father.f From first
to last it had not been His own work : what He
should say, and what He should speak, the Father ' Him
self ' had given Him commandment. Nay, this command
ment, and what He spoke in it, was not mere teaching,
nor Law : it was Life everlasting. The things which fie
spake, He spake as the Father said unto Him.
These two things : concerning the history of Israel and
their necessary unbelief, and concerning the Christ as God-
sent, God- witnessed, God-revealing, bringing light and

47 S Jesus the Messiah
life as the Father's gift and command — the Christ as
absolutely surrendering Himself to this Mission and em
bodying it — are the sum of the Gospel-narratives. They
explain their meaning, and set forth their object and
lessons.

CHAPTER LXXIV.
THE THIRD DAY IN PASSION-WEEK — THE SADDUCEES AND
THE RESURRECTION  THE SCRIBE AND THE GREAT COM
MANDMENT — QUESTION TO THE PHARISEES, AND FINAL
WARNING AGAINST THEM.
(St. Matt. xxii. 23-33; St. Mark xii. 18-27; St. Luke xx. 27-39;
St. Matt. xxii. 34-40; St. Mark xii. 28-34; St. Matt. xxii. 41-46;
St. Mark xii. 35-40 ; St. Luke xx. 40-47 ; St. Matt, xxiii.)
We remember that during the whole previous history
Christ had only on one occasion come into public conflict
with the Sadducees, when, characteristically, they had
•st. Matt asked of fiim 'a sign from heaven.' a Their
xvi- x Rationalism would lead them to treat the whole
movement as the outcome of ignorant fanaticism. Never
theless, when Jesus assumed such a position in the Temple,
and was evidently to such extent swaying the people, it
behoved them, if only to guard their position, no longer to
stand by. Possibly, the discomfiture and powerlessness of
the Pharisees may also have had their influence. At any
rate, the impression left is that those of them who now
went to Christ were delegates, and that the question which
they put had been well planned.
Their object was certainly not serious argument, but to
use the much more dangerous weapon of ridicule. Perse
cution the populace might have resented ; for open opposi
tion all would have been prepared ; but to come with icy
politeness and philosophic calm, and by a well-turned
question to reduce the renowned Galilean Teacher to
silence, and show the absurdity of His teaching, would
have been to inflict on His cause the most damaging blow.

The Sadducees and the Resurrection 479
Had the Sadducees succeeded, they would at the same
time have gained a signal triumph for their tenets, and
defeated, together with the Galilean Teacher, their own
Pharisaic opponents. The subject of attack was to be the
Resurrection — the same which is still the favourite topic
for the appeals of the coarser forms of infidelity to 'the
common sense ' of the masses.
The Sadducees here would allow no appeal to the
highly poetic language of the Prophets, to whom, at any
rate, they attached less authority ; but demanded proof
from that clear and precise letter of the Law, every tittle
and iota of which the Pharisees exploited for their
doctrinal inferences, and from which alone they derived
them. Here, also, it was the Nemesis of Pharisaism, that
the postulates of their system laid it open to attack. In
vain would the Pharisees appeal to Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel,
or the Psalms. To such an argument as from the words,
» Deut ' this people will rise up,' a the Sadducees would
xxxi. 16 rightly reply that the context forbade the appli
cation to the Resurrection ; to the quotation of Isaiah xxvi.
19, they would answer that that promise must be under
stood spiritually, like the vision of the dry bones in
Ezekiel ; while such a reference as to this, ' causing the
lips of those that are asleep to speak,' b would
*Cantvii.9 r . . . „ f .. r '
scarcely require serious refutation.
And the additions with which the Pharisees had en
cumbered the doctrine of the Resurrection would not only
surround it with fresh difficulties, but deprive the simple fact
of its majesty. Thus, it was a point in discussion whether a
person would rise in his clothes, which one Rabbi tried to
establish by a reference to the grain of wheat, which was
buried ' naked,' but rose clothed. Indeed, some Rabbis
held that a man would rise in exactly the same clothes in
which he had been buried, while others denied this. On the
other hand, it was beautifully argued that body and soul must
be finally judged together, so that, in their contention to
which of them the sins of man had been due, justice might
be meted out to each — or rather to the two in their combi
nation, as in their combination they had sinned. Again,

480 Jesus the Messiah
it was inferred from the apparition of Samuel a that the
• 1 Sam. risen would look exactly as in life — have even the
xxviu. 14 same bodily defects, such as lameness, blindness,
or deafness. It was argued that they were only after
wards to be healed, lest enemies might say that God had
not healed them when they were alive, but that He did so
when they were dead, and that they were perhaps not the
same persons. In some respects even more strange was
the contention that, in order to secure that all the pious of
Israel should rise on the sacred soil of Palestine,b
there were cavities underground in which the
body would roll till it reached the Holy Land, there to rise
to newness of life.
But all the more that it was so keenly controverted
by heathens, Sadducees, and heretics, as appears from
many reports in the Talmud, and that it was so encumbered
with realistic legends, should we admire the tenacity with
which the Pharisees clung to this doctrine. The hope of
the Resurrection-world appears in almost every religious
utterance of Israel. It is one of the few dogmas denial
of which involves, according to the Mishnah, the loss of
eternal life, the Talmud explaining — almost in the words
of Christ — that in the retribution of God this is only
' measure according to measure.' It is venerable even in
its exaggeration that only our ignorance fails to perceive
it in every section of the Bible, and to hear it in every
commandment of the Law.
But in the view of Christ the Resurrection would
¦ necessarily occupy a different place. It was the innermost
shrine in the Sanctuary of His Mission, towards which He
steadily tended ; it was also, at the same time, the living
corner-stone of that Church which He had builded, and its
spire, which, as with uplifted finger, ever pointed "all men
heavenwards. But of such thoughts connected with His
Resurrection Jesus could not have spoken to the Sadducees ;
they would have been unintelligible at that time even to
His own disciples. He met the cavil of the Sadducees
with words most lofty and spiritual, yet such as they
could understand, and which, if they had received them,

The Sadducees and the Resurrection 481
would have led them far beyond the standpoint of the
Pharisees. The story under which the Sadducees conveyed their
sneer was also intended covertly to strike at their Pharisaic
opponents. The ancient ordinance of marrying a brother's
• Deut xxv. childless widow a had more and more fallen into
6 ,&0- discredit, as its original motive ceased to have in
fluence. But what here most interests us is, that what are
called in the Talmud the ' Samaritans,' but, as we judge, the
Sadducees, held the opinion that the command to marry
a brother's widow only applied to a betrothed wife, not
to one that had actually been wedded. This gives point
to their controversial question, as addressed to Jesus.
A case such as they told, of a woman who had suc
cessively been married to seven brothers, might, according
to Jewish Law, have really happened. Their question
now was, whose wife she was to be in the Resurrection.
This, of course, on the assumption of the grossly materialistic
views of the Pharisees. In this the Sadducean cavil was,
in a sense, anticipating certain objections of modern
materialism. It proceeded on the assumption that the
relations of time would apply to eternity, and the conditions
of the things seen hold true in regard to those that are
unseen. But perchance it is otherwise ; and the future
may reveal what in the present we do not see.
In His argument against the Sadducees Christ first
„ gt Matt appealed to the power of God.b What God would
xxii.' 29, 30, work was quite other than they imagined • not
and parallel -i • i . j. v j.-
a mere re-awakening, but a transformation.
The world to come was not to be a reproduction of that
which had passed away — else why should it have passed
away ? — but a regeneration and renovation ; and the body
with which we were to be clothed would be like that which
Angels bear. What, therefore, in our present relations is
of the earth, and of our present body of sin and corruption,
will cease ; what is eternal in them will continue. But
the power of God will transform all — the present terrestrial
into the future heavenly, the body of humiliation into one
of exaltation. Nor ought questions here to rise, like dark
1 1

482 Jesus the Messiah
clouds, such as of the perpetuity of those relations which
on earth are not only so precious to us, but so holy.
Assuredly they will endure, as all that is of God and good ;
only what in them is earthly will cease, or rather be trans
formed with the body. Nay, and we shall also recognise each
other, not only by the fellowship of the soul ; but as even
now the mind impresses its stamp on the features, so
then, when all shall be quite true, shall the soul body
itself forth, fully impress itself on the outward appearance,
and for the first time shall we then fully recognise those
whom we shall now fully know — with all of earth that was
in them left behind, and all of God and good fully developed
and ripened into perfectness of beauty.
But our Lord would not merely reply, He would
answer the Sadducees. Of course, as speaking to the
Sadducees, He remained on the ground of the Pentateuch ;
and yet it was not only to the Law but to the whole Bible
that He appealed, nay, to that which underlay Revelation
itself : the relation between God and man. fie Who, not
only historically but in the fullest sense, calls Himself the
God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, cannot leave them
dead. Revelation implies, not merely a fact of the past —
as is the notion which traditionalism attaches to it — a dead
letter ; it means a living relationship. ' He is not the
God of the dead, but of the living, for all live unto Him.'
The Sadducees were silenced, the multitude was
astonished, and even from some of the Scribes the admis
sion was involuntarily wrung : ' Teacher, Thou hast
beautifully said.' One point, however, still claims our
attention. It is curious that, as regards both these argu
ments of Christ, Rabbinism offers statements closely
similar. Thus, it is recorded as one of the frequent say
ings of a later Rabbi, that in the world to come there
would be neither eating nor drinking, fruitfulness nor
increase, business nor envy, hatred nor strife, but that the
just would sit with crowns on their heads, and feast on the
splendour of the Shekhinah. This reads like a Rabbinic
adaptation of the saying of Christ. As regards the other
point, the Talmud reports a discussion on the Resurrection

The Scribe and ' The Great Commandment' 483
between ' Sadducees,' or perhaps Jewish heretics (Jewish^
Christian heretics), in which Rabbi Gamaliel II. at lasl
• d ut -9 silences his opponents by an appeal to the pro'-
mise " ' that ye may prolong your days in the
land which the Lord sware unto your fathers to give unto
them ' — ' unto them,' emphasises the Rabbi, not ' unto
you.' Although this almost entirely misses the spiritual
meaning conveyed in the reasoning of Christ, it is impos
sible to mistake its Christian origin. The point opens
such further questions as these : In the constant intercourse
between Jewish Christians and Jews, what did the latter
learn ?" and may there not be much in the Talmud which
is only an appropriation and adaptation of what had been
derived from the New Testament ?
2. The answer of our Lord was not without its further
results. As we conceive it, among those who listened to
the brief but decisive passage between Jesus and the
Sadducees were some ' Scribes ' — or, as they are also
designated, ' lawyers,' ' teachers of the Law,' experts, ex
pounders, practitioners of the Jewish Law. One of them,
perhaps he who exclaimed : Beautifully said, Teacher !
hastened to the knot of Pharisees, whom it requires no
stretch of the imagination to picture gathered in the
Temple on that day, watching the Saviour's every move
ment. As ' the Scribe ' came up to them, he would
relate how Jesus had literally ' gagged ' and ' muzzled '
the Sadducees — just as, according to the will of God,
we are ' by well-doing to gag the want of knowledge of
senseless men.' There can be little doubt that the report
would give rise to mingled feelings, in which that pre
vailing would be, that, although Jesus might thus have
discomfited the Sadducees, He would be unable to cope
with other questions, if only properly propounded by
Pharisaic learning. And so we can understand how once
• comp. the of the number, perhaps the same Scribe, would
oountsin volunteer to undertake the office ; a and how his
xxuM3a"io question was, as St. Matthew reports, in a
and m st sense really intended to ' tempt ' Jesus.
28-34 We dismiss here the well-known Rabbinic 1 1 2

484 Jesus the Messiah
distinctions of ' heavy ' and ' light ' commandments, be
cause Rabbinism declared the 'light' to be as binding
as the 'heavy,' those of the Scribes more 'heavy' (or
binding) than those of Scripture, and that one com
mandment was not to be considered to carry greater
reward, and to be therefore more carefully observed, than
another. That such thoughts were not in the mind ofthe
questioner, but rather the general problem — however him
self might have answered it — appears even from the form
• st. Mark of his inquiry : ' Which is the great — the first a
*"• 28 commandment in the Law ? ' So challenged, the
Lord could have no hesitation in replying. Not to silence
him, but to speak the absolute truth, He quoted the words
which every Jew was bound to repeat in his devotions,
and which were ever to be on his lips, living or dying, as
the inmost expressions of his faith.: ' Hear, 0 Israel, the
Lord our God is one Lord.' And then continuing, He re
peated the command concerning love to God which is the
outcome of that profession. But to have stopped here
would have been to propound a theoretic abstraction with
out concrete reality, a mere Pharisaic worship ofthe letter.
As God is love — fiis Nature so manifesting itself — so is
love to God also love to man. And so this second is
'like ' 'the first and great commandment.' It was a full
answer to the Scribe when He said : ' There is none other
commandment greater than these.'
But it was more than an answer when, as St. Matthew
reports, He added : ' on these two commandments hang
t, st Matt all the Law and the Prophets.' b It little matters
xxii. 4 for our present purpose how the Jews at the
time understood and interpreted these two command
ments. They would know what it meant that the Law
and the prophets ' hung ' on them, for it 'was a Jewish ex
pression. For the moment, at least, traditionalism lost
its sway ; and, as Christ pointed to it, the Scribe saw the
• st. Mark exceeding moral beauty of the Law. He was
xii. 33, 34 not far from f.ne JJing(Jom 0f Q-od.0
3. Without addressing any one in particular, Christ
now set before them all, what perhaps was the most

Question to the Pharisees 485
familiar subject in their theology, that of the descent of
Messiah. Whose Son was He ? And when they re
plied : ' The Son of David,' He referred them to the
opening words of Psalm ex., in which David called the
Messiah ' Lord.' The argument proceeded, of course, on
the twofold supposition that the Psalm was Davidic and
that it was Messianic. Neither of these statements would
have been questioned by the ancient Synagogue.
But we should greatly err if we thought that, in calling
the attention of His hearers to this apparent contradiction
about the Christ, the Lord only intended to show the
utter incompetence of the Pharisees to teach the higher
truths of the Old Testament. Far beyond this, as in the
proof which He gave for the Resurrection, and in the view
which He presented of the great commandment, He would
point to the grand harmonious unity of Revelation. Viewed
separately, the two statements, that Messiah was David's
Son, and that David owned Him Lord, would seem incom
patible. But in their combination in the Person of the
Christ, how harmonious and how full of teaching — to
Israel of old, and to all men — concerning the nature of
Christ's Kingdom and of His Work !
It was but one step from this demonstration of the in
competence of Israel's teachers for the position they claimed
to a solemn warning on this subject.
To begin with — Christ would have them understand
that He neither wished for Himself nor His disciples the
place of authority which they claimed, nor yet sought to
incite the people to resistance thereto. On the contrary,
so long as they held the place of authority, they were to
be regarded — in the language of the Mishnah — as if in
stituted by Moses himself, as sitting in Moses' seat, and
were to be obeyed, so far as merely outward observances
were concerned. We also recall that the ordinances to
which Christ made reference were those of the Jewish
canon-law, and did not involve anything which could really
affect the conscience — except that of the ancient, or of our
modern Pharisees. But while they thus obeyed their
outward directions, they were equally to eschew the spirit

486 Jesus the Messiah
which characterised their observances. In this respect a
twofold charge is laid against them : of want of spiritual
• st Matt earnestness and love,a and of mere externalism,
xxiil 3, 4' vanity, and self-seeking.1" And here Christ in-
T' " terrupted His Discourse to warn His disciples
ao-ainst the first beginnings of what had led to such fear
ful consequences, and to point them to the
'w.8-12 v . . o
better way.°
This constitutes the first part of Christ's charge.
Before proceeding to those which follow, we may give a
few illustrative explanations. Of the opening accusation
about the binding of heavy burdens and grievous to be
borne, and laying them on men's shoulders, proof can
scarcely be required. As frequently shown, Rabbinism
placed the ordinances of tradition above those of the Law,
and this by a necessity of the system, since they were pro
fessedly the authoritative exposition and the supplement
of the written Law. And although it was a general rule
that no ordinance should be enjoined heavier than the
congregation could bear, yet it was admitted that, whereas
the words of the Law contained what ' lightened ' and what
'made heavy,' the words of the Scribes contained only
what 'made heavy.' Again, it was another principle
that, where an ' aggravation ' or increase of the burden
had once been introduced, it must continue to be observed.
Thus the burdens became intolerable. And the blame
rested equally on both the great Rabbinic Schools.
It is not so easy to understand the second part of
Christ's accusation. There were, indeed, many hypocrites
among them, who might, in the language of the Talmud,
alleviate for themselves and make heavy for others. Yet
the charge of not moving them with the finger could
scarcely apply to the Pharisees as a party — not even in
this sense, that Rabbinic ingenuity mostly found some
means of evading what was unpleasant. We would under
stand the word then in the sense that they did not ' alleviate '
where they might have done so, or else with reference to
their admitted principle, that their ordinances always
made heavier, never lighter.

Final Warning against the Pharisees 487
With this charge of unreality and want of love, those
of externalism, vanity, and self-seeking are closely con
nected. Here we can only make selection from the
abundant evidence in support of it. By a merely external
interpretation of Exod. xiii. 9, 16, and Deut. vi. 8, xi. 18,
the practice of wearing Phylacteries, or, as they were
called, Tephillin, ' prayer-fillets,' was introduced. These,
as will be remembered, were square capsules, covered with
leather, containing on small scrolls of parchment these
four sections of the law: Exod. xiii. 1-10, 11-16; Deut.
vi. 4-9; xi. 13-21. The Phylacteries were fastened by
long leather straps to the forehead, and round the left
arm, near the heart. Most superstitious reverence was
attached to them, and in later times they were even used
as amulets. Nevertheless, the Talmud itself gives confir
mation that the practice of constantly wearing Phylac
teries — or, it might be, making them broad, and enlarging
the borders ofthe garments — was intended 'for to be seen
of men.' Nay, the Rabbis had in so many words to lay it
down as a principle, that the Phylacteries were not to be
worn for show.
Detailed proof is scarcely required of the charge of
vanity and self-seeking in claiming marked outward
honours, such as the uppermost places at feasts and in the
Synagogue, respectful salutations in the market, the osten
tatious repetition of the title ' Rabbi,' or k Abba,' ' Father,'
or ' Master,' or the distinction of being acknowledged as
' greatest.' The very earnestness with which the Talmud
sometimes warns against such motives for study or for
piety sufficiently establishes it.
The Law of the Kingdom, as repeatedly taught,a was
• st. Mark the opposite. As regarded aims, they were to
^tei?t seek the greatness of service ; and as regarded
11 ; xviii. 14 that acknowledgment which would come from
God, it would be the exaltation of humiliation.
It was not a break in the Discourse, rather an inten
sification of it, when Christ now turned to make final
* st. Matt denunciation of Pharisaism in its sin and hypo-
xxui. 13-33 crisy.b Corresponding to the eight Beatitudes

488 Jesus the Messiah
in the Sermon on the Mount with which His public
Ministry began, He now closed it with eight denunciations
of woe. These are the forthpouring of His holy wrath,
the last and fullest testimony against those whose guilt
would involve Jerusalem in common sin and common
judgment. The first Woe against Pharisaism was on their shutting
the Kingdom of God against men by their opposition to
the Christ. All knew how exclusive were their pretensions
in confining piety to the possession of knowledge, and that
they declared it impossible for an ignorant person to be
pious. The second Woe was on their covetousness and hypo
crisy. They made long prayers, but how often did it only
cover the vilest selfishness, even to the 'devouring' of
widows' houses !
The third Woe was on their proselytism, which issued
only in making their converts twofold more the children of
hell than themselves. Against this charge, rightly under
stood, Judaism has in vain sought to defend itself.
But the Lord may have referred here, not to conversion
to Judaism in general, but to proselytism to the sect of the
Pharisees, which was undoubtedly sought to the compassing
of sea and land.
The fourth Woe is denounced on the moral blindness
of these guides rather than on their hypocrisy. It seems
likely that our Lord refers to oaths or adjurations in con
nection with vows, where the casuistry was of the most
complicated kind.
The fifth Woe referred to one of the best-known and
strangest Jewish ordinances, which extended the Mosaic
law of tithing, in most burdensome minuteness, even to
the smallest products of the soil that were esculent and
could be preserved, such as anise. Of these, according
to some, not only the seeds, but in certain cases even
the leaves and stalks, had to be tithed. We remember
that this conscientiousness in tithing constituted one of
the characteristics ofthe Pharisees ; but we could scarcely
be prepared for such an instance of it, as when the Talmud

Final Warning against the Pharisees 489
gravely assures us that the ass of a certain Rabbi had been
so well trained as to refuse corn of which the tithes had
not been taken !
From tithing to purification the transition was natural.
It constituted the second characteristic of Pharisaic piety.
We have seen with what punctiliousness questions of out
ward purity of vessels were discussed. But woe to the
hypocrisy which, caring for the outside, heeded not whether
that which filled the cup and platter had been procured by
extortion or was used for excess. And, alas for the blind
ness which perceived not that internal purity was the real
condition of that which wa? outward !
Woe similarly to another species of hypocrisy, of which,
indeed, the preceding were but the outcome : that of out
ward appearance of righteQusness, while heart and mind
were full of iniquity — just as those annually-whited sepul
chres of theirs seemed so fair outwardly, but within were
full of dead men's bones and all uncleanness. Woe, lastly,
to that hypocrisy which built and decorated sepulchres of
prophets and righteous men, and by so doing sought to
shelter itself from share in the guilt of those who had
killed them. It was not spiritual repentance, but national
pride, which actuated them in this, the same spirit of
self-sufficiency, pride, and impenitence which had led
their fathers to commit the murders. And were they
not about to imbrue their hands in the blood of Him
to Whom all the prophets had pointed ? Fast were they
in the Divine judgment filling up the measure of theii
fathers. And thicker and heavier than ever before fell the hail
storm of His denunciations, as He foretold the certain
•st Matt doom which awaited their national impenitence."
xxiu. 34-36 Prophets, wise men, and scribes would be sent
them of Him; and only murders, sufferings, and perse
cutions would await them — not reception of their message
and warnings. And so would they become heirs of all the
blood of martyred saints, from that of him whom Scrip
ture records as the first one murdered, down to that last
martyr of Jewish unbelief of whom tradition spoke in such

490 Jesus the Messiah
terms — Zechariah,1 stoned by the king's command in the
¦ 2 chron. Court of the Temple," whose blood, as legend had
xxiT. 20-22 j^ did not; dry up those two centuries and a half,
but still bubbled on the pavement, when Nebuzar-adan
entered the Temple and at last avenged it.
And yet it would not have been Jesus, if, while de
nouncing certain judgment on them who, by continuance
and completion of the crimes of their fathers, through the
same unbelief, had proved themselves heirs to all their
guilt, He had not also added to it the passionate lament of
a love which, even when spurned, lingered with longing
b gt. Matt over the lost.b They all knew the common illus-
xxiii. 37-39 tration ofthe hen gathering her young brood for
shelter, and they knew also what of Divine protection,
blessing, and rest it implied, when they spoke of being
gathered under the wings of the Shekhinah. Fain and
often would Jesus have given to Israel, His people, that
shelter, rest, protection, and blessing — but they would not.
Looking around on those Temple-buildings — that House,
it shall be left to them desolate ! And He quitted its
courts with these words, that they of Israel should not see
Him again till, the night of their unbelief past, they would
welcome His return with a better Hosanna than that which
had greeted His Royal Entry three days before.
1 We need scarcely remind the reader that this Zechariah was the
son of Jehoiada. The difference in the text of St. Matthew may either
be due to family circumstances, unknown to us, which might admit of
his designation as ' the son of Barachias ' (the reading is undoubtedly
correct), or an error may have crept into the text — how, we know not,
and it is of little moment. There can be no question that the reference
is to this Zacharias.

49i

CHAPTER LXXV.
THE THIRD DAY IN PASSION-WEEK — THE LAST SERIES OF
PARABLES : OF THE LABOURERS IN THE VINEYARD — OF
THE TWO SONS— OF THE EVIL HUSBANDMEN — OF THE
MARRIAGE OF THE KING'S SON AND OF THE WEDDING
GARMENT.
(St. Matt. xix. 30- xx. 16 ; xxi. 28-32, 33-46 ; St. Mark xii. 1-12 ;
St. Luke xx. 9-19 ; St. Matt. xxii. 1-14.)
Although it may not be possible to mark their exact
succession, it will be convenient here to group together
the last series of Parables. Most, if not all of them, were
spoken on that third day in Passion-week : the first four
to a more general audience ; the last three (to be treated
in another chapter) to the disciples, when, on the evening
• st Matt °f ^at third day, on the Mount of Olives," He
xxiv. 1 ; st told them of the ' Last Things.' They are the
Parables of Judgment, and in one form or another
treat of ' the End.'
1. The- Parable of the Labourers in the Vina-
» st Matt yard-b — As treating of ' the End,' this Parable
xix. 3o-xx. evidently belongs to the last series, although it
may have been spoken previously to Passion-
week. We remember that on the occasion of the rich young
ruler's failure to enter the Kingdom, to which he was so
near, Christ had uttered an earnest warning on the
« st. Matt danger of ' riches.' ° In the low spiritual stage
xix. 23, 24 which the Apostles had as yet attained, it was,
perhaps, only natural that Peter should, as spokesman of
the rest, have in a kind of spiritual covetousness clutched
at the promised reward, and that in a tone of self-righteous
ness he should have reminded Christ of the sacrifices which
they had made. It was most incongruous, yet part of
what the Lord had always to bear from their ignorance
and failure to understand Him and His work. Only

492 Jesus the Messiah
there was here danger to the disciples : danger of
lapsing into feelings kindred to those with which the
Pharisees viewed the pardoned Publicans, or the elder son
in the Parable his younger brother ; danger of misunder
standing the right relations, and with, it the very character
of the Kingdom, and of work in and for it. It is to this
that the Parable of the Labourers in the Vineyard refers.
The principle which Christ lays down is that, while
nothing done for Him shall lose its reward, yet, from one
reason or another, no forecast can be made, no inferences
of self-righteousness may be drawn. It does not by any
means follow that most work done — at least, to our seeing
and judging — shall entail a greater reward.
Of this the Parable of the Labourers is an illustration.
It teaches nothing beyond this. But while illustrating
how it may come that some who were first are ' last,' and
how utterly mistaken or wrong is the thought that they
must necessarily receive more than others, who seemingly
have done more — how, in short, work for Christ is not a
ponderable quantity, so much for so much, nor yet we the
judges of when and why a worker has come — it also con
veys much besides.
We mark, first, the bearing of ' the householder, who
went out to hire labourers into his vineyard.' That he
» st. Matt, did not send his steward, but went himself," and
**¦ 1 with the dawn of morning, shows both that there
was much work to do, and the householder's anxiety to
have it done. That householder is God, and the vineyard
His Kingdom ; the labourers, whom with earliest morning
He seeks in the market-place of busy life, are His Servants.
With these he agreed for a denarius a day, which was the
ordinary wages for a day's labour, and so sent them into
the vineyard : in other words, he told them he would pay
the reward promised to labourers. About the third hour
(the Jewish working day being reckoned from sunrise to
sunset) he went out again, and as he saw ' others ' standing
idle in the market-place, he said to them, ' Go ye also into
the vineyard.' There was more than enough to do in that
vineyard ; enough and more to employ them. And when

Parable of the Labourers in the Vineyard 493
he came, they had stood in the market-place ready and
waiting to go to work, yet ' idle ' — unemployed as yet.
It might not have been precisely their blame that they had
not gone before ; they were ' others ' than those in the
market-place when the Master had first come, and they
had not been there at that time. Only as he now sent
them, he made no definite promise. They felt that in
their special circumstances they had no claim ; he told
them that whatsoever was right he would give them ; and
they implicitly trusted to his word, to his justice and
goodness. And so happened it yet again, both at the
sixth and at the ninth hour of the day. Neither did the
Master in any case make, nor they ask for, other promise
than that implied in his word and character.
And now the time for working is past, and the Lord
of the vineyard bids His Steward [here the Christ] pay
His labourers. But here the first surprise awaits them.
The order of payment is the inverse of that of labour :
' beginning from the last unto the first.' This is almost a
necessary part of the Parable. For, if the first labourers
had been paid first, they would either have gone away
without knowing what was done to the last, or, if they had
remained, their objection could not have been urged,
except on the ground of manifest malevolence towards
their neighbours. Again we notice, as indicating the dis
position of the later labourers, that those of the third hour
did not murmur, because they had not got more than they
of the eleventh hour. This is in accordance with their not
having made any bargain at the first, but trusted entirely
to the householder. But they of the first hour had their
cupidity excited. Seeing what the others had received,
they expected to have more than their due. When they
likewise received every man a denarius, they murmured,
as if injustice had been done them. And, as mostly in
like circumstances, truth and fairness seemed on their side.
For selecting the extreme case of the eleventh hour
labourers, had not the householder made those who had
wrought only one hour equal to them who had ' borne the
burden of the day and the heat ' ? Yet, however fair their

494 Jesus the Messiah
reasoning might seem, they had no claim in truth or
equity. They had gone to work with a stipulated sum
as their hire distinctly in view. They now appealed to
justice ; but from first to last they had had justice. This
as regards the ' so much for so much ' principle of claim,
law, work, and pay.
But there was yet another aspect than that of mere
justice. Those other labourers, who had felt that, owing
to the lateness of their appearance, they had no claim, had
made no bargain, but trusted to the Master. And as they
had believed, so was it unto them. .Not because they
made or had any claim — ' I will, however, to give unto
this last, even as unto thee ' — the word ' I will,' being
emphatically put first to mark ' the good pleasure ' of His
grace as the ground of action. Such a Master could not
have given less to those who had come when called,
trusting to His goodness, and not in their deserts. The
• Eom.iv. reward was now reckoned, not of work nor of
4-6; xi. 6 debt, but of grace."
And so, in this illustrative case of the Parable, ' the
first shall be last, and the last first.'
Another point still remains to be noticed. If any
where, we expect in these Parables, addressed to the people,
forms of teaching and speaking with which they were
familiar — in other words, Jewish parallels. But we equally
expect that the teaching of Christ, while conveyed under
illustrations with which the Jews were familiar, would be
entirely different in spirit. And such we find it notably
in the present instance. To begin with, according to
Jewish Law, if a man engaged a labourer without any
definite bargain, but on the statement that he would be
paid as one or another of the labourers in the place, he
was, according to some, only bound to pay the lowest
wages in the place; but, according to the majority, the
average between the lowest and the highest.
The same spirit of work and pay appears in the following
ill ustrative Parable. A king had a garden, for which he hired
labourers without telling them what their wages would be.
In the evening he called them, and having ascertained from

Parable of the Two Sons 495
each under what tree he had been working, he paid them
according to the value of the trees on which they had been
engaged. And when they said that he ought to have told
them which trees would bring the labourers most pay, the
king replied that thereby a great part of his garden would
have been neglected. So had God in like manner only
revealed the reward of the greatest of the commandments,
* Ex. xx. 12 that to honour father and mother," and that of the
'Deutxxii.7 least, about letting the mother-bird fly away b —
attaching to both precisely the same reward.
To these, if need were, might be added other illustrations
of that painful reckoning about work, or else sufferings,
and reward, which characterises Jewish theology, as it did
those labourers in the Parable.
2. The second Parable in this series — or perhaps rather
illustration — was spoken within the Temple. The Saviour
had been answering the question of the Pharisees as to His
authority by an appeal to the testimony of the Baptist.
This led Him to refer to the twofold reception of that
testimony — on the one hand, by the Publicans and harlots,
and on the other, by the Pharisees.
• st. Matt The Parable e which now follows introduces a
xxi. 28-32 man wjj0 has two sons. He goes to the first, and
in language of affection bids him go and work in his vine
yard. The son curtly and rudely refuses ; but afterwards
he changes his mind and goes. Meantime the father, when
refused by the one, has gone to his other son on the same
errand. The contrast here is marked. The tone is most
polite, and the answer of the son contains not only a
promise, but we almost see him going : ' I, sir ! — and he
did not go.' The application was easy. The first son
represented the Publicans and harlots, whose curt and rude
refusal of the Father's call was implied in their life of reck
less sin. But afterwards they changed their mind — and
went into the Father's vineyard. The other son, with his
politeness of tone and ready promise, but utter neglect of
obligations undertaken, represented the Pharisees with
their hypocritical and empty professions. And Christ
obliged them to make application of the Parable. Whe»

496 Jesus the Messiah
challenged by the Lord, which of the two had done the
will of his father, they could not avoid the answer. Then
it was that in language equally stern and true He pointed
the moral. The Baptist had come preaching righteousness,
and, while the self-righteous Pharisees had not believed him,
those sinners had. And yet, even when the Pharisees saw
the effect on these former sinners, they changed not their
minds that they might believe. Therefore the Publicans
and harlots would and did go into the Kingdom before
them. 3. Closely connected with the two preceding Parables,
¦ st Matt an<^> indeed, with the whole tenor of Christ's
xxi. 33 &o. sayings at that time, is that about the Evil Hus
bandmen in the Vineyard.a
The Parable opens, like that in Is. v., with a description
of the complete arrangements made by the Owner of the
Vineyard, to show how everything had been done to ensure
a good yield of fruit, and what right the Owner had to
expect at least a share in it. In the Parable, as in the
prophecy, the Vineyard represents the Theocracy, although
in the Old Testament, necessarily, as identified with the
b nation of Israel,b while in the Parable the two
are distinguished, and the nation is represented
by the labourers to whom the Vineyard was ' let out.' In
deed, the whole structure of the Parable shows that the
husbandmen are Israel as a nation, although they are
addressed and dealt with in the persons of their represen-
• st Luke tatives and leaders. And so it was spoken ' to
^s'tMatt. the people,' c and yet ' the chief priests and Phari-
dL 45 sees ' rightly ' perceived that He spake of them.' d
This vineyard the owner had let out to husbandmen,
while he himself 'travelled away' [abroad], as St. Luke
adds, ' for a long time.' From the language it is evident
that the husbandmen had the full management of the vine
yard. We remember that there were three modes of
dealing with land. According to one of these ' the
labourers ' employed received a certain portion of the fruits,
say, a third or a fourth of the produce. In such cases it
seems, at least sometimes, to have been the practice, besides

Parable of the Evil Husbandmen 497
giving them a proportion of the produce, to provide also
the seed (for a field) and to pay wages to the labourers.
The other two modes of letting land were, either that the
tenant paid a money rent to the proprietor, or else that
he agreed to give the owner a definite amount of pro-
dace, whether the harvest had been good or bad. Such
leases were given by the year or for life ; sometimes the
lease" was even hereditary, passing from father to son.
There can scarcely be a doubt that it is the latter kind of
lease which is referred to in the Parable, the lessees being
bound to give the owner a certain amount of fruits in their
season. Accordingly, ' when the time of the fruits drew near, he
sent his servants to the husbandmen to receive his fruits ' —
the part of them belonging to him, or, as St. Mark and St.
Luke express it, ' of the fruits of the vineyard.' We gather
that it was a succession of servants, who received increas
ingly ill treatment from these evil husbandmen. We
might have expected that the owner would now have taken
severe measures ; but instead of this he sent, in his patience
and goodness, ' other servants ' — not ' more,' but ' greater
than the first,' no doubt with the idea that their greater
authority would command respect. And when these also
received the same treatment, we must regard it as involving
increased guilt on the part of the husbandmen. Once more
a fresh and still greater display of the owner's patience and
unwillingness to believe that these husbandmen were so
evil. As St. Mark pathetically puts it, indicating not
only the owner's goodness, but the spirit of determined
rebellion and the wickedness of the husbandmen : ' He
had yet one, a beloved son — he sent him last unto them,'
on the supposition that they would reverence him. The
result was different. The appearance ofthe legal heir made
them apprehensive of their tenure. Practically, the vine
yard was already theirs; by killing the heir, the only
claimant to it would be put out of the way, and so the
vineyard become in every respect their own. For the
husbandmen proceeded on the idea that, as the owner was
' abroad ' ' for a long time,' he would not personally inter-
K K

498 Jesus the Messiah
fere — an impression strengthened by the circumstance that
he had not avenged the former ill-usage of his servants,
but only sent others in the hope of influencing them by
gentleness. So the labourers, 'taking him [the son], cast
him forth out of the vineyard, and killed him ' — the first
action indicating that by violence they thrust him out of
his possession, before they wickedly slew him.
The meaning of the Parable is sufficiently plain. The
Owner of the vineyard, God, had let out His Vineyard —
the Theocracy — to His people of old. The covenant having
been instituted, He withdrew, as it were — the former direct
communication between Him and Israel ceased. Then in
due season He sent ' His Servants,' the prophets, to gather
His fruits — they had had theirs in all the temporal and
spiritual advantages of the covenant. But instead of re
turning the fruits meet unto repentance, they only ill-treated
His messengers, and that increasingly even unto death.
In His longsuffering He next sent on the same errand
»st Luke 'greater' than them — John the Baptist." And
T11-26 when he also received the same treatment, He
sent last His own Son, Jesus Christ. His appearance
made them feel that it was now a decisive struggle for the
Vineyard — and so in order to gain its possession for them
selves, they cast the rightful Heir out of His own possession,
and then killed Him.
And they must have understood the meaning of the
Parable, who had proved themselves heirs to their fathers
•> st. Matt in the murder of all the prophets,6 who had just
xxiu. 34-36 keen conyicted 0f the rejection of the Baptist's
message, and whose hearts were even then full of murderous
thoughts against the rightful Heir of the Vineyard. But,
even so, they must speak their own judgment. In answer
to His challenge, what in their view the owner of the vine
yard would do to these husbandmen, the chief priests and
Pharisees could only reply : ' As evil men evilly will He
destroy them. And the vineyard will He let out to other
° st Matt, husbandmen, which shall render Him tho fruits
xxi- 41 in their seasons.' °
The application was obvious, and it was made by

Parable of the Marriage of the King's Son 499
Christ, first, as always, by a reference to the prophetic
testimony. And then followed, in plain and unmistak
able language, the terrible prediction, first nationally,
that the Kingdom of God would be taken from them,
and ' given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof: '
and then individually, that whosoever stumbled at that
stone and fell over it, in personal offence or hostility,
should be broken in pieces, but whosoever stood in the
way of, or resisted its progress, and on whom therefore it
fell, it would ' scatter him as dust.'
Once more was their wrath roused, but also their
fears. They knew that He spake of them, and would
fain have laid hands on Him ; but they feared, the people,
who in those days regarded Him as a prophet. And so
for the present they left Him, and went their way.
4. If Rabbinic writings offer scarcely any parallel to
the preceding Parable, that of the Marriage-Feast of the
» st. Matt King's Son and the Wedding Garment a seems
xxu- 1_14 almost reproduced in Jewish tradition. A King
is represented as inviting to a feast, without, however,
fixing the exact time for it. The wise adorn themselves
in time, and are seated at the door of the palace, so as to
be in readiness, since, as they argue, no elaborate pre
paration for a feast can be needed in a palace ; while the
foolish go away to their work, arguing there must be
time enough, since there can be no feast without prepara
tion. But suddenly comes the King's summons to the
feast, when the wise appear festively adorned, and the
King rejoices over them, and they are made to sit down,
eat and drink ; while he is wroth with the foolish, who
appear squalid, and are ordered to stand by and look on
in anguish, hunger and thirst.
When we turn to the Parable of our Lord, its meaning
is not difficult to understand. The King made a marriage
for his Son, and sent his Servants to call them that were
bidden to the wedding. Evidently, as in the Jewish
Parable, and as before in that of the guests invited to the
i> st tuke great Supper ,b a preliminary general invitation
xiv. 16, lr na(j preceded the announcement that all was
K k 2

500 Jesus the Messiah
ready. But those invited would not come. It reminds
us both of the Parable of the Labourers for the Vineyard,
sought at different times, and of the repeated sending of
messengers to those Evil Husbandmen for the fruits that
were due, when we are next told that the King sent forth
other servants to tell them to come, for he had made ready
his ' early meal,' and that, no doubt with a view to the
later meal, the oxen and fatlings were killed. These
repeated -endeavours to call, to admonish, and to invite,
form a characteristic feature of these Parables, showing
that it was one of the central objects of our Lord's teach
ing to exhibit the longsuffering and goodness of God.
Instead of giving heed to these repeated and pressing
calls, in the words of the Parable : ' But they [the one
class] made light of it, and went away, the one to his
own land, the other unto his own merchandise.'
So the one class ; the other made not light of it, but
acted even worse than the first. ' But the rest laid hands
on his servants, entreated them shamefully, and killed
them.' The sin was the more aggravated that he was
their king, and the messengers had invited them to a
feast, and that one in which every loyal subject should
have rejoiced to take part. Theirs was therefore not only
murder, but also rebellion against their sovereign. On
this the king in his wrath sent forth his armies, which —
and here the narrative in point of time anticipates the
event — destroyed the murderers, and burnt their city.
¦ st. Matt 'Then'a — after the king had given com-
xxn- 8 mandment for his armies to go forth, he said
to his servants, ' The wedding indeed is ready, but they
that were bidden were not worthy. Go ye therefore into
the partings of the highways [where a number of roads
meet and cross], and, as many as ye shall find, bid to
the marriage.' We remember that the Parable here runs
parallel to that other, when first the outcasts from the
city-lanes, and then the wanderers on the world's hio-h-
» st. Lnke way, were brought in to fill the place of the
xiv. 21-24 invited guests."
We have already in part anticipated the interpretation

Parable of the Wedding-Garment 501
of this Parable. ' The Kingdom ' is here, as so often in
the Old and in the New Testament, likened to a feast,
and more specifically to a marriage-feast. But we mark
as distinctive, that the King makes it for His Son. Thus
Christ, as Son and Heir of the Kingdom, forms the
central Figure in the Parable. The next point is that
the chosen, invited guests were the ancient Covenant-
people — Israel. To them God had sent first under the
Old Testament. And, although they had not given heed
to His call, yet a second class of messengers was sent to
them under the New Testament. And the message of
the latter was that ' the early meal was ready [Christ's
first coming], and that all preparations had been made
for the great evening-meal [Christ's Reign]. Another
prominent truth is set forth in the repeated message of
the King, which points to the goodness and longsuffering
of God. Next, our attention is drawn to the refusal of
Israel, which appears in the contemptuous neglect and
preoccupation with their own things of one party, and
the hatred, resistance, and murder by the other. Then
follow in quick succession the command of judgment on
the nation, and the burning of their city — God's army
being, in this instance, the Romans — and finally, the
direction to go into the crossways to invite all men, alike
Jews and Gentiles.
With verse 10 begins the second part of the Parable.
The ' Servants ' — that is, the New Testament messengers
— had fulfilled their commission ; they had brought in as
many as they found, both bad and good : that is, without
respect to their previous history, or their moral and re
ligious state up to the time of their call : and ' the
wedding was filled with guests ' — that is, the table at the
marriage-feast was filled with those who as guests ' lay
around it.' But if ever we are to learn that we must
not expect on earth — not even at the King's marriage-
table — a pure Church, it is surely from what now follows.
The King entered to see his guests, and among them he
descried one who had not on a wedding-garment. Mani
festly, the quickness of the invitation, and the previous

502 Jesus the Messiah
unpreparedness of the guests did not prevent the procur
ing of such a garment. As the guests had been travellers,
and as the feast was in the King's palace, we cannot be
mistaken in supposing that such garments were supplied
in the palace itself to all those who sought them. And with
this agrees the circumstance that the man so addressed
'was speechless' [literally, 'gagged,' or 'muzzled']. His
conduct argued utter insensibility as regarded that to
which he had been called — ignorance of what was due to
the King, and what became such a feast. And whereas
it is said in the Parable that only one was descried
without this garment, this is intended to teach that the
King will not only generally view His guests, but that
each will be separately examined, and that no one will be
able to escape discovery amidst the mass of guests, if he
has not the ' wedding-garment.' In short, in that day of
trial it is not a scrutiny of Churches, but of individuals
in the Church. And so the King bade the servants, not
the same who had previously carried the invitation, but
evidently here the Angels, His ' ministers,' to bind him
hand and foot, and to ' cast him out into the darkness,
the outer ' — that is, unable to offer resistance and as a
punished captive, he was to be cast out into that darkness
which is outside the brilliantly lighted guest-chamber of
the King. And still further to mark that darkness out
side, it is added that this is the well-known place of
suffering and anguish : ' there shall be the weeping and
the gnashing of teeth.'
And here the Parable closes with the general state
ment, applicable alike to the first part of the Parable — to
the first invited guests, Israel — and to the second, the
guests from all the world : ' For ' (this is the meaning
¦ st Matt of the whole Parable) ' many are called, but
xxii-u few chosen.'8

SP3

CHAPTER LXXVI.
THE EVENING OF THE THIRD DAY IN PASSION-WEEK —
DISCOURSE TO THE DISCIPLES CONCERNING THE LAST
THINGS.
(St. Matt. xxiv. ; St. Mark xiii. ; St. Luke xxi. 5-38 ; xii. 35-48.)
The last and most solemn denunciation of Jerusalem had
been uttered, the last and most terrible prediction of judg
ment upon the Temple spoken. It was as if Jesus had
cast the dust off His shoes against ' the House ' that was to
be ' left desolate.' And so He quitted for ever the Temple
and them that held office in it.
They had left the Sanctuary and the City, had crossed
black Kidron, and were slowly climbing the Mount of
Olives. A sudden turn in the road, and the Sacred Build
ing was once more in full view. In the setting, even more
than in the rising sun, the vast proportions, the sym
metry, and the sparkling sheen of this mass of snowy marble
and gold must have stood out gloriously. And across
the valley, and up the slopes of Olivet, lay the shadows
of those gigantic walls built of massive stones, some of
them nearly twenty-four feet long. Even the Rabbis,
despite their hatred of Herod, grow enthusiastic, and
dream that the very Temple-walls would have been covered
with gold, had not the variegated marble, resembling the
waves of the sea, seemed more beauteous. It was probably
as they now gazed on all this grandeur and strength, that
they broke the silence imposed on them by gloomy thoughts
of the near desolateness of that House, which the Lord had
¦ st Matt predicted.a One and another pointed out to Him
xxiii. 37-39 those massive stones and splendid buildings, or
spake of the rich offerings with which the Temple was
* st. Matt adorned.b It was but natural that the contrast
xxiT- 1 between this and the predicted desolation should
have impressed them ; natural also, that they should refer

504 Jesus the Messiah
to it^not as matter of doubt, but rather as of question.8
« st. Matt. Then Jesus, turning to His questioners,1 spoke
mT- 3 fully of that terrible contrast between the present
•> st Mark and the near future, when, as fulfilled with
almost incredible literality, not one stone would
be left upon another that was not upturned.
In silence they pursued their way. Upon the Mount
of Olives they sat down, right over against the Temple.
Whether or not the others had gone farther, or Christ had
sat apart with these four, Peter and James and John and
¦ st. Mark Andrew are named0 as those who now asked Him
xm- 3 further of what must have weighed so heavily on
their hearts. It was not idle curiosity, although inquiry
on such a subject, even merely for the sake of information,
could scarcely have been blamed in a Jew. But it did
concern them personally, for had not the Lord conjoined the
desolateness of that ' House ' with His own absence ? He
had explained the former as meaning the ruin of the City
and the utter destruction of the Temple. But to His pre
diction of it had been added these words : ' Ye shall not
see Me henceforth, till ye shall say, Blessed is He that
cometh in ;the Name of the Lord.' In their view, this
could only refer to His Second Coming, and to the end of
the world as connected with it. This explains the two
fold question which the four now addressed to Christ :
' Tell us, when shall these things be 'i and what shall be
the sign of Thy Coming, and of the consummation of the
age?' Irrespective of other sayings in which a distinction
between these two events is made, the disciples could
scarcely have conjoined the desolation of the Temple with
the immediate Advent of Christ and the end of the world.
For in the very saying which gave rise to their question,
Christ had placed an indefinite period between the two.
Between the desolation of the House and their new wel
come to Him, would intervene a period of indefinite length,
during which they would not see Him again.
Keeping this in mind, the question ofthe disciples would
appear to have been twofold : When would these things

Concerning the Last Things 505
be ? and, What would be the signs of His Royal Advent
and the consummation of the ' Age ' ? On the former the
Lord gave no information ; to the latter His Discourse on
the Mount of Olives was directed. On one point the
statement of the Lord had been so novel as almost to
account for their question. Jewish writings speak very
frequently of the so-called ' sorrows of the Messiah.' These
were partly those of the Messiah, and partly — perhaps
chiefly — those coming on Israel and the world previous
to, and connected with the Coming of the Messiah. They
may generally be characterised as marking a period of in
ternal corruption and of outward distress, especially of
famine and war, of which the land of Palestine was to be
the scene, and in which Israel were to be the chief sufferers.
But as a matter of fact, none of them refers to desolation
of the City and Temple as one of the ' signs ' or ' sorrows '
of the Messiah. When Christ therefore proclaimed the
desolation of ' the House,' and even placed it in indirect
connection with His Advent, He taught that which must
have been alike new and unexpected.
This may be the most suitable place for explaining the
Jewish expectation connected with the Advent of the
Messiah.1 Into many points connected with it we cannot
enter here. Suffice it to say that, according to general
opinion, the Birth of the Messiah would be unknown to
His contemporaries ; that He would appear, carry on His
work, then disappear — probably for forty-five days ; then
reappear, and destroy the hostile powers of the world,
notably ' Edom,' ' Armilos,' the Roman power — the fourth
and last world-empire (sometimes it is said : through
Ishmael). Ransomed Israel would now be miraculously
gathered from the ends of the earth, and brought back to
their own land, the ten tribes sharing in their restoration,
but this only on condition of their having repented of
their former sins. According to the Midrash, all cir
cumcised Israel would then be released from Gehenna,
and the dead be raised — according to some authorities, by
1 On the expectation of a double Messiah see 'Life and Times of
Jesus the Messiah,' vol. ii. pp. 434-436.

506 Jesus the Messiah
the Messiah, to Whom God would give ' the Key of the
Resurrection of the Dead.' This Resurrection would take
place in the land of Israel, and those of Israel who had
been buried elsewhere would have to roll under ground —
not without suffering pain — till they reached the sacred
soil. Probably the reason of this strange idea, which was
supported by an appeal to the direction of Jacob and
Joseph as to their last resting-place, was to induce the
Jews, after the final desolation of their land, not to quit
Palestine. This resurrection, which is variously supposed
to take place at the beginning or during the course of
the Messianic manifestation, would be announced by the
blowing of the great trumpet. It would be difficult to
say how many of these strange and confused views pre
vailed at the time of Christ ; which of them were uni
versally entertained as real dogmas ; or from what sources
they had been originally derived. Probably many of them
were popularly entertained, and afterwards further de
veloped — as we believe, with elements distorted from
Christian teaching.
We have now reached the period of the ' coming age.'
All the resistance to God would be concentrated in the
great war of Gog and Magog, and with it the prevalence,
of all wickedness be conjoined. And terrible would be
the straits of Israel. Three times would the enemy seek
to storm the Holy City. But each time would the assault
be repelled — at the last with complete destruction of the
enemy. The sacred City would now be wholly rebuilt
and inhabited. But oh, how different from of old ! Its
Sabbath-boundaries would be strewed with pearls and
precious gems. The City itself would be lifted to a
height of some nine miles — nay, with realistic applica
tion of Is. xlix. 20, it would reach up to the throne of
God, while it would extend from Joppa as far as the gates
of Damascus. For Jerusalem was to be the dwelling-
place of Israel, and the resort of all nations. But most
glorious in Jerusalem would be the new Temple which
the Messiah was to rear, and to which those five things
were to be restored which had been wanting in the former

Concerning the Last Things 507
Sanctuary : the golden candlestick, the Ark, the Heaven-
lit fire on the Altar, the Holy Ghost, and the Cherubim.
And the land of Israel would then -be as wide as it had
been sketched in the promise which God had given to
Abraham, and which had never before been fulfilled —
since the largest extent of Israel's rule had only been over
seven nations, whereas the Divine promise extended it
over ten, if not over the whole earth.
Strangely realistic and exaggerated by Eastern ima
gination as these hopes sound, there is connected with
them a point of interest on which remarkable divergence
of opinion prevailed. It concerns the Services of the re
built Temple, and the observance of the Law in Messianic
days. One party here insisted on the restoration of all
the ancient Services, and the strict observance of the
Mosaic and Rabbinic Law — nay, on its full imposition on
the Gentile nations. But the most liberal view, and, as
we may suppose, that most acceptable to the enlightened,
was that in the future only these two festive seasons
would be observed : The Day of Atonement, and the
Feast of Esther (or else that of Tabernacles) ; and that of
all the sacrifices only thankofferings would be continued.
Nay, opinion went even further, and many held that in
Messianic days the distinctions of pure and impure, law
ful and unlawful, as regarded food, would be abolished.
There can be little doubt that these different views were
entertained even in the days of our Lord and in Apostolic
times, and they account for the exceeding bitterness with
which the extreme Pharisaic party in the Church at
Jerusalem contended that the Gentile converts must be
circumcised, and the full weight of the yoke of the Law
laid on their necks.
It only remains briefly to describe the beatitude of
Israel, both physical and moral, in those days. Morally,
this would be a period of holiness, of forgiveness, and of
peace. Without, there would be no longer enemies or
oppressors. And within the City and Land a more than
Paradisiacal state would prevail, which is depicted in even
more than the usual realistic Eastern language. And it

508 Jesus the Messiah
is one of the strangest mixtures of self-righteousness and
realism with deeper and more spiritual thoughts, when the
Rabbis prove by references to the prophetic Scriptures
that every event and miracle in the history of Israel
would find its counterpart, or rather larger fulfilment, in
Messianic days.
But by the side of this we find much coarse realism.
The land would spontaneously produce the best dresses
and the finest cakes ; the wheat would grow as high as
palm-trees, nay, as the mountains, while the wind would
miraculously convert the grain into flour, and cast it into
the valleys. Every tree would become fruit-bearing ; nay,
they were to break forth and to bear fruit every day ;
daily was every woman to bear child, so that ultimately
every Israelitish family would number as many as all
Israel at the time of the Exodus. All sickness and
disease, and all that could hurt, would pass away. Lastly,
such physical and outward loss as Rabbinism regarded as
the consequence of the Fall, would be again restored to
man. The same literalism prevails in regard to the reign of
King Messiah over the nations of the world. Jerusalem
would, as the residence ofthe Messiah, become the capital
of the world, and Israel take the place of the (fourth)
world-monarchy, the Roman Empire.
A great war, which seems a continuation of that of
Gog and Magog, would close the Messianic era. The
nations, who had hitherto given tribute to Messiah, would
rebel against Him, when he would destroy them by the
breath of His mouth, so that Israel alone would be left on .
the face of the earth. The duration of that period of
rebellion is stated to be seven years. It seems at least a
doubtful point, whether a second or general Resurrection
was expected, the more probable view being that there
was only one Resurrection, and that of Israel alone, or,
at any rate, only of the studious and the pious, and that
this was to take place at the beginning of the Messianic
reign. If the Gentiles rose at all, it would only be immedi
ately again to die.

Concerning the Last Things 509
Then the final Judgment would commence. We must
here once more make distinction between Israel and the
Gentiles, with whom, nay, as more punishable than they,
certain notorious sinners, heretics, and all apostates, were
to be ranked. Whereas to Israel the Gehenna, to which
all but the perfectly righteous had been consigned at
death, had proved a kind of purgatory, from which they
were all ultimately delivered by Abraham, or, according
to some, by the Messiah, no such deliverance was in prospect
for the heathen nor for sinners of Israel. At the time of
Christ the punishment of the wicked was regarded as of
eternal duration, while annihilation would await the less
guilty. The contrast between the Jewish picture of the last
Judgment and that outlined in the Gospels is so striking,
as alone to vindicate (were such necessary) the eschato-
logical parts of the New Testament, and to prove what
infinite distance there is between the Teaching of Christ
and the Theology of the Synagogue.
After the final Judgment we must look for the renewal
of heaven and earth. In the latter neither physical nor
moral darkness would any longer prevail, since the ' Evil
impulse ' would be destroyed. And renewed earth would
bring forth all without blemish and in Paradisiacal per
fection, while alike physical and moral evil had ceased.
Then began the ' world to come.' The question whether
any functions or enjoyments of the body would continue,
is variously answered. The reply of the Lord to the ques
tion ofthe Sadducees about marriage in the other world
seems to imply that materialistic views on the subject
were entertained at the time. On the other hand, pas
sages may be quoted in which the utterly unmaterial cha
racter of the ' world to come ' is insisted upon in most
emphatic language.
The many and persistent attempts, despite the gross
inconsistencies involved to represent the teaching of
Christ concerning ' the Last Things ' as only the reflection
of contemporary Jewish opinion, have rendered some

510 Jesus the Messiah
evidence necessary.1 When, with the information just
summarised, we again turn to the questions addressed to
Him by the disciples, we recall that they could not have
conjoined the ' when ' of ' these things ' — that is, of the
destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple— with the
' when ' of His Second Coming and the end of the ' Age.'
Wewould also suggest that Christ referred to His Advent, as
to His disappearance, from the Jewish standpoint of Jew
ish, rather than from the general cosmic view-point of
universal history.
As regards the answer of the Lord to the two ques
tions of His disciples, it may be said that the first part of
¦ st Matt ^1S Discourse a is intended to supply information
xxiv. 4-35, on the two facts of the future : the destruction
an par e ^ ^e Temple, and His Second Advent and the
end of the ' Age,' by setting before them the signs indica
ting the approach or beginning of these events. But
even here the exact period of each is not defined, and the
teaching given is intended for purely practical purposes.
>> st. Matt lu the second part of His Discourse b the Lord dis-
end'and*0 tinctly tells them what they are not to know,
parallels aricl why ; and how all that was communicated to
them w.as only to prepare them for that constant watch
fulness, which has been to the Church at all times the
proper outcome of Christ's teaching on the subject. This
then we may take as a guide in our study ; that the words
of Christ contain nothing beyond what was necessary for
the warning and teaching of the disciples and of the
Church.» tt. 4-35 The first part of Christ's Discourse0 consists
¦u7it28;-9~ or" f°ur Sections,3 of which the first describes
29-35 'the beginning of the birth-woes'8 of the new
6 ver. 8 ; ° o
st. Mask. ' Age about to appear.
fstMatt 1- The purely practical character of the Dis-
mv-4 course appears from its opening words/ They
contain a warning, addressed to the disciples in their
individual, not in their corporate capacity, against being
1 For details as to the opinions on this subject expressed in the
Pseudepigraphic Writings, see ' Life and Times, &e.,' vol. ii. pp. 442-445.

Concerning the Last Things 511
c led astray.' This, more particularly in regard to Judaic
seductions leading them after false Christs. Though in
the multitude of impostors, who in the troubled times
between the rule of Pilate and the destruction of Jerusa
lem promised Messianic deliverance to Israel, few names
and claims of this kind have been specially recorded, yet
* Acts v. 36- the hints in the New Testament,"- and the l-efer-
vm. 9 ; xxi.' ences, however guarded, by the Jewish historian,
imply the appearance of many such seducers.
But taking a wider view, they might also be misled by
either rumours of war at a distance, or by actual warfare,
so as to believe that the dissolution of the Roman Empire,
» st Matt an(i with it the Advent of Christ, was at hand.b
xxiv. e-8 This also would be a misapprehension, grievously
misleading, and to be carefully guarded against.
2. From the warning to Christians as individuals, the
Lord next turns to give admonition to the Church in her
corporate capacity. Here we mark that the events now
described ° must not be regarded as following,
xxiv. 9-ii with strict chronological precision, those referred
and parallels ^Q jn ^g previous verses. Rather is it intended
to indicate a general nexus with them, so that these events
begin partly before, partly during, and partly after, those
formerly predicted. They form, in fact, the continuation
of the ' birth-woes.' As regards the admonition itself, ex-
pressed in this part of the Lord's Discourse,"1 we
xxiv! 9-14,' notice that, as formerly to individuals, so now to
ana parallels ^q Church, two sources of danger are pointed
out : internal, from heresies (' false prophets ') and the decay
* st Matt or" faith ; c and external, from persecutions, whether
xxiv. 10-13 Judaic and from their own kindred, or from the
secular powers throughout the world. But along with
these two dangers, two consoling facts are also pointed out.
As regards the persecutions in prospect, full Divine aid is
promised to Christians — alike to individuals and to the
Church. And as for the other and equally consoling fact :
despite the persecution of Jews and Gentiles, before the
End cometh 'this the Gospel of the Kingdom shall be
preached in all the inhabited earth for a testimony to all

512 Jesus the Messiah
the nations."- This, then, is really "the only sign of ' tha
End ' of the present ' Age.'
xxiv. 14 ' 3. From these general predictions, the Lord pro-
» st Matt ceeds, in the third part of this Discourse," to adver-
MdTpafai-8' *lse tne Disciples of the great historic fact immedi-
ieis;note ately before them, and of the dangers which
the^nguage might spring from it. In truth, we have here
of st. Luke Hig answer to tlieir question, ' When shall these
• st. Matt things be ? ' ° not, indeed, as regards the when,
but the what of them. And with this He conjoins
the present application of His general warning regarding
a false Christs, given in the first part of this Dis-
' course.* The fact is the destruction of Jerusalem.
Its twofold dangers would be — outwardly, the difficulties
and perils which at that time would necessarily beset men,
and especially the members of the infant-Church ; and
religiously, the pretensions and claims of false Christs or
prophets at a period when all Jewish thinking and expec
tancy would lead men to anticipate the near Advent of the
Messiah. There can be no question that from both these
dangers the warning of the Lord delivered the Church.
As for Jerusalem, the prophetic vision initially fulfilled in
e 2 Ma00. yi. the days of Antiochuse would once more, and now
i-9 fully, become reality, and 'the abomination of
desolation ' stand in the Holy Place. Nay, so dreadful would
be the persecution, that, if Divine mercy had not interposed
for the sake of the followers of Christ, the whole Jewish
'st. Matt race that inhabited the land would have been
xxiv. 22 swept away.f But on the morrow of that day
no new Maccabee would arise, no Christ come, as Israel
fondly hoped; but over that carcase would the
vultures gather;8 and so through all the Age of
the Gentiles, till converted Israel should raise the welcoming
shout: 'Blessed be He that cometh in the Name of the
Lord!' 4. The Age of the Gentiles,11 ' the end of the
Age,' and with it the new allegiance of His now
penitent people Israel ; ' the sign of the Son of Man in
heaven,' perceived by them ; the conversion of all the

Concerning the Last Things 513
world, the Coming of Christ, the last Trumpet, the Resur
rection of the dead — such, in most rapid sketch, is the
outline which the Lord draws of His Coming and the End
ofthe world.
It will be remembered that this had been the second
• st. Matt question of the disciples.1 We again recall that
xxiv. 3 ^he disciples could not have connected, as immedi
ately subsequent events, the destruction of Jerusalem and
His Second Coming, since He had expressly placed between
them the period — apparently protracted — of His
' Absence,b with the many events that were to
happen in it — notably, the preaching of the Gospel over
the whole inhabited earth.0 Hitherto the Lord
had, in His Discourse, dwelt in detail only on
those events which would be fulfilled before this
generation should pass.d
More than this concerning the future of the Church
could not have been told, without defeating the very object
of the admonition and warning which Christ had exclusively
in view, when answering the question of the disciples.
Accordingly, what follows in ver. 29, describes the history,
not of the Church — far less any visible physical signs in
the literal heavens — but in prophetic imagery, the history
of the hostile powers of the world, with its lessons. A
constant succession of empires and dynasties would charac
terise politically the whole period after the extinction of
the Jewish State.e Immediately after that would
follow the appearance to Israel of the ' Sign' of
the Son of Man in heaven, and with it the conversion of
1 Ver. 14 all nations (as previously predicted)/ tiie Coming
e ver. 30 of Christ,8 and finally, the blast of the last Trumpet
"ver. 31 and the Resurrection.h
5. From this rapid outline ofthe future the Lord once
more turned to make present application to the disciples;
application, also, to all times. From the fig-tree, under
which on that spring-afternoon they may have rested on
the Mount of Olives, they were to learn a ' parable.' 5
iw. 32, 33 -yyQ can picture Qhrist taking one of its twigs,
just as its softening tips were bursting intoTyoung leaf.
L L

514 Jesus the Messiah
Surely, this meant that summer was nigh — not that it had
actually come. The distinction is important. For it
seems to prove that ' all these things,' which were to indi
cate to them that it was near, even at the doors, and which
were to be fulfilled ere this generation had passed away,
could not have referred to the last signs connected with the
» st. Matt, immediate Advent of Christ,3- but must apply to
xxiv. 29-31 the previous prediction of the destruction of
Jerusalem and of the Jewish. Commonwealth. At the same
time we again admit, that the language of the Synoptists
indicates that they had not clearly understood the words
of the Lord which they reported, and that in their own
minds they had associated the ' last signs ' and the Advent
of Christ with the fall of the City. Thus may they have
come to expect that blessed Advent even in their own days.
II. It is at least a question whether the Lord, while
distinctly indicating these facts, had intended to remove
the doubt and uncertainty of their succession from the
minds of His disciples. To have done so would have
necessitated that which, in the opening sentence of the
b gt Matt second division of this Discourse,b He had ex-
xxiv. 36 to pressly declared to lie beyond their ken. The
' when ' — the day and the hour of His coming —
est Matt was to remain hidden from men and Angels.0
Nay, even the Son Himself — as they viewed
Him and as He spake to them — knew it not. It formed
no part of His present Messianic Mission, nor subject for
His Messianic Teaching. The Church would not have
been that of the New Testament, had she known the
mystery of that day and hour, and not ever waited as for
the immediate Coming of her Lord and Bridegroom.
To the world this uncertainty would indeed become
the occasion for utter carelessness and practical disbelief
<• w 37-40 °*" ^ie commg Judgment.3 As in the days of
Noah the long delay of threatened judgment had
led to absorption in the ordinary engagements of life, to
the entire disbelief of what Noah had preached, so would
it be in the future. But that day would come certainly
and unexpectedly, to the sudden separation of those who

Parable of the Ten Virgins 515
were engaged in the same daily business of life, of whom
• st Matt one might be taken up, the other left to the de-
xxiv. 40, 41 gtruction ofthe coming Judgment."
But this very mixture of the Church with the world in
the ordinary avocations of life indicated a great danger.
As in all such, the remedy which the Lord would set before
us is not negative in the avoidance of certain things, but
» -51 Positive.b We shall best succeed, not by going
out of the world, but by being watchful in it,
and keeping fresh on our hearts, as weli as on our minds,
the fact that He is our Lord, and that we are always
to look and long for His return.

CHAPTER LXXVII.

evening of the third day in passion- week — last
parables: of the ten virgins— of the talents — -
of the minas.
(St. Matt. xxv. 1-13 ; 14-30 ; St. Luke xix. l]-28.)
1. As might have been expected, the Parables concerning
the Last Things are closely connected with the Discourse
of the Last Things, which Christ had just spoken to His
Disciples. In fact, that of the Ten Virgins is, in its
main object, only an illustration of the last part of Christ's
• st. Matt. Discourse.0 Its outlines may be thus summa-
xxiv. 36-51 rise(j . J3e y6 personally prepared ; be ye pre
pared for any length of time ; be ye prepared to go to
Him directly.
It is late at even — the world's long day seems past,
and the Coming of the Bridegroom must be near. The
day and the hour we know not, for the Bridegroom has
been far away. Only this we know, that it is the evening
of the Marriage which the Bridegroom had fixed, and
that His word of promise may be relied upon. Therefore
all has been made ready within the bridal house, and is in
waiting there; and therefore the Virgins prepare to go
forth to meat Him on His arrival. The Parable proceeds

516 Jesus the Messiah
on the assumption that the Bridegroom is not in the town,
but somewhere far away ; so that it cannot be known at
what precise hour He may. arrive. But it is known that
He will come that night ; and the Virgins who are to meet
Him have gathered — presumably in the house where the
Marriage is to take place — waiting for the summons to go
forth and welcome the Bridegroom. The common mistake,
that the Virgins are represented in verse 1 as having gone
forth on the road to meet the Bridegroom, is not only
irrational — since it is scarcely credible that they would all
have fallen asleep by the wayside, and with lamps in their
» st. Matt hands — but incompatible with the circumstance *
XXT- 6 that at midnight the cry is suddenly raised to go
forth and meet Him. In these circumstances, no precise
parallel can be derived from the ordinary Jewish marriage-
processions, where the bridegroom, accompanied by his
groomsmen and friends, went to the bride's house, and
thence conducted the bride, with her attendant maidens
and friends, into his own or his parents' home. But in
the Parable, the Bridegroom comes from a distance and
goes to the bridal house. Accordingly, the bridal proces
sion is to meet Him on His arrival, and escort Him to
the bridal place.
Another archaeological inquiry will, perhaps, be helpful
to our understanding of this Parable. The ' lamps '—not
' torches ' — which the Ten Virgins carried, were of well-
known construction. They consisted of a round receptacle
for pitch or oil for the wick. This was placed in a hollow
cup or deep saucer — which was fastened by a pointed end
into a long wooden pole, on which it was borne aloft.
According to Jewish authorities, it was the custom in
the East to carry in a bridal procession about .ten such
lamps. We have the less reason to doubt that such was
also the case in Palestine, since, according to rubric, ten
was the number required to be present at any office or
ceremony, such as at the benedictions accompanying the
marriage-ceremonies. And, in the peculiar circumstances
supposed in the Parable, Ten Virgins are represented as
going forth to meet the Bridegroom, each bearing her lamp.

Parable of the Ten Virgins 517
The first point which we mark is that the Ten Virgins
brought ' their own lamps.' Emphasis must be laid on
this. Thus much was there of personal preparation on
the part of all. But while the five that were wise brought
also ' oil in the vessels ' [presumably the hollow receptacles
in which the lamp proper stood], the five foolish Virgins
neglected to do so, no doubt expecting that their lamps
would be filled out of some common stock in the house.
In the text the foolish Virgins are mentioned before the
wise, because the Parable turns on this. We cannot be
at a loss to interpret the meaning of it. The Bridegroom
far away is Christ, Who is come for the Marriage-Feast
from 'the far country' — the Home above — certainly on
that night, but we know not at what hour of it. The ten
appointed bridal companions who are to go forth to meet
Him are His professed disciples, and they gather in readi
ness to welcome His arrival. It is night, and a marriage-
procession : therefore they must go forth with their lamps.
All of them have brought their own lamps, they all have
the Christian, or the Church-profession : the lamp in the
hollow cup on the top of the pole. But only the wise
Virgins have more than this — the oil in the vessels, with
out which the lamps cannot give their light. The Christian
or Church-profession is but an empty vessel without the
oil. We here remember the words of Christ : ' Let your
light so shine before men, that they may see your good
• st Matt works, and glorify your Father Which is in
T- 16 heaven.' a The foolishness of the Virgins, which
consisted in this, that they had omitted to bring their oil,
is thus indicated in the text : ' All they which ivere
foolish, when they brought their own lamps, brought not
with them oil : ' they brought their own lamps, but not
their own oil. They had no conception either of any
personal obligation in this matter, nor that the call would
come so suddenly, nor yet that there would be so little
interval between the arrival of the Bridegroom and ' the
closing of the door.'
Eor — and here begins the second scene in the Parable
— the interval between the gathering of the Virgins in

5 18 Jesus the Messiah
readiness to meet Him and the arrival of the Bridegroom
is much longer than had been anticipated. And so it
came, that both the wise and the foolish Virgins ' slumbered
and slept.' What follows is intended to bring into pro
minence the startling suddenness of the Bridegroom's
Coming. It is midnight — when sleep is deepest — when
suddenly 'there was a cry, Behold, the Bridegroom
cometh ! Come ye out to the meeting of Him. Then all
those Virgins awoke, and prepared (trimmed) their lamps.'
This, not in the sense of heightening the low flame in
their lamps, but in that of hastily drawing up the wick
and lighting it, when, as there was no oil in the vessels,
the flame, of course, immediately died out. ' Then the
foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil ; for our
lamps are going out. But the wise answered, saying:
Not at all — it will never suffice for us and you ! Go ye
rather to the sellers, and buy for your own selves.'
This advice must not be regarded as given in irony. The
trait is introduced to point out the proper source of supply
— to emphasise that the oil must be their own, and also to
prepare for what follows. ' But while they were going to
buy, the Bridegroom came ; and the ready ones [they that
were ready] went in with Him to the Marriage-Feast, and
the door was shut.' It is of no importance here, whether
or not the foolish Virgins finally succeeded in obtaining
oil, since it could no longer be of any possible use, as its
object was to serve in the festive procession, which was
now past. Nevertheless, and when the door was shut,
those foolish Virgins came, calling on the Bridegroom to
open to them. But they had failed in that which could
alone give them a claim to admission. Professing to be
bridesmaids, they had not been in the bridal procession,
and so, in truth and righteousness, He could only answer
from within : ' Verily I say unto you, I know you not.'
This, not only in punishment, but in the right order of
things. The personal application of this Parable to the dis
ciples, which the Lord makes, follows almost of necessity.
' Watch therefore, for ye know not the day, nor the hour.'

Parable of the Talents

5*9

Not enough to be in waiting with the Church; His Coming
will be far on in the night ; it will be sudden ; it will be
rapid : be prepared therefore, be ever and personally pre
pared! To present the necessity of this in the most
striking manner, the Parable takes the form of a dialogue,
first between the foolish and the wise Virgins, in which
the latter only state the bare truth when saying that each
has only sufficient oil for what is needed when joining
the marriage-procession, and no one what is superfluous.
Lastly, we are to learn from the dialogue between the.
foolish Virgins and the Bridegroom, that it is impossible
in the day of Christ's Coming to make up for neglect of
previous preparation, and that those who have failed to
meet Him, even though of the bridal Virgins, shall be
finally excluded as being strangers to the Bridegroom.
2. The Parable of the Talents — their use and mis.-
• st Matt, use " — follows closely on the admonition to
XXT" watch, in view of the sudden and certain Return
of Christ, and the reward or punishment which will then
be meted out. Only that, whereas in the Parable of the
Ten Virgins the reference was to the personal state, in
that of ' the Talents ' it is to the personal work of the
Disciples. In the former instance, they are portrayed as
the bridal maidens who are to welcome His Return ; in
the latter, as the servants who are to give an account of
their stewardship.
From its close connection with what precedes, the
Parable opens almost abruptly with the words : ' For [it is]
like a Man going abroad, [who] called his own servants,
and delivered to them his goods.' The emphasis rests on
this, that they were his own servants, and to act for his
interest. His property was handed over to them, not for
safe custody, but that they might do with it as best they
could in the interest of their Master. This appears from
what immediately follows : ' and so to one he gave five
talents (about 1,170Z.), but to one two (about 4681.), and
to one one (=6,000 denarii, about 234L), to each accord
ing to his own capability ' — that is, he gave to each
according to his capacity, in proportion as he deemed

520 Jesus the Messiah
them severally qualified for larger or smaller administra
tion. ' And he journeyed abroad straightway.'
Thus far we can have no difficulty in understanding
the meaning of the Parable. Our Lord, Who has left us
for the Father's Home, is He Who has gone on the journey
abroad, and to His own servants has He entrusted, not
for custody, but to use for Him in the time between His
departure and His return, what He claims as His own
' goods.' We must not limit this to the administration of
His Word, nor to the Holy Ministry, although these may
have been pre-eminently in view. It refers generally to
all that a man has, wherewith to serve Christ : his time,
money, opportunities, talents, or learning. And to each
of us He gives according to our capacity for working —
mental, moral, and even physical — to one five, to another
two, and to another one ' talent.'
And here the characteristic difference appears. ' He
that received the five talents went and traded with them,
and made other five talents. In like manner he that had
received the two gained other two.' As each had received
according to his ability, so each worked according to his
power, as good and faithful servants of their Lord. If the
outward result was different, their labour, devotion, and
faithfulness were equal. It was otherwise with him who
had least to do for his Master, since only one talent had
been entrusted to him. He ' went away, digged up earth,
and hid the money of his Lord.' The prominent fact
here is, that he did not employ it for the Master, as a
good servant, but shunned alike the labour and the re
sponsibility. In so doing he was not only unfaithful to
his trust, but practically disowned that he was a servant
of his Lord.
And now the second scene opens. ' But after a long
time cometh the Lord of those servants, and maketh
reckoning.' The first of the servants, without speaking
of his labour in trading, or his merit in ' making ' money,
answers with simple joyousness : ' Lord, five talents
deliveredst thou unto me. See, other five tf lents have I
gained besides.' His Master's approval was all that the

Parable of the Talents 521
faithful servant had looked for, for which he had toiled
during that long absence. And we can understand how
the Master welcomed and owned that servant, and assigned
to him meet reward. The latter was twofold. Having
proved his faithfulness and capacity in a comparatively
limited sphere, one much greater would be assigned to
him. Hence also the second part of his reward — that of
entering into the joy of his Lord — must not be confined
to sharing in the festive meal at his return, still less to
advancement from the position of a servant to that of
a friend who shares his Master's lordship. It implies far
more than this : even satisfied heart-sympathy with the
aims and gains of his Master, and participation in them,
with all that this conveys.
A similar result followed on the reckoning with the
servant to whom two talents had been entrusted. We
mark that, although he could only speak of two talents
gained, he met his Master with the same frankness as he
who had made five. For he had been as faithful, and
laboured as earnestly as he to whom more had been
entrusted. And, what is more important, the former
difference between -the two servants, dependent on greater
or less capacity for work, now ceased, and the second
servant received precisely the same welcome and exactly
the same reward, and in the same terms, as the first.
And a yet deeper, and in some sense mysterious, truth
comes to us in connection with the words : ' Thou hast
been faithful over a few things, I will set thee over many
things.' Surely, then, if not after death, yet in that
other ' dispensation,' there must be work to do for Christ,
for which the preparation is in this life by faithful ap
plication for Him of what He has entrusted to us — be it
much or little. This gives quite a new and blessed mean
ing to the life that now is — as most truly and in all its
aspects part of that into which it is to unfold.
It only remains to refer to the third servant, whose
unfaithfulness and failure of service we already, in some
measure, understand. Summoned to his account, he re
turned the talent entrusted to him, with this explanation,

522 Jesus the Messiah
that, knowing his Master to be a hard man, reaping
where he did not sow, and gathering (the corn) where he
did not ' winnow,' he had been afraid of incurring respon
sibility, and hence hid in the earth the talent which he
now restored. We recognise here those who, although
His servants, yet, from self-indulgence and worldliness,
will not do work for Christ with the one talent entrusted to
them — that is, even though the responsibility and claim
upon them be the smallest ; and who deem it sufficient to
hide it in the ground — not to lose it — or to preserve it, as
they imagine, from being used for evil, without using it
to trade for Christ. The falseness of the excuse, that he
was afraid to do anything with it lest, peradventure, he
might do more harm than good, was now fully exposed
by the Master. Confessedly, it proceeded from a want of
knowledge of Him, as if He were a hard, exacting Master,
not One Who reckons even the least service as done to
Himself; from misunderstanding also of what work for
Christ is, in which nothing can ever fail or be lost ; and,
lastly, from want of sympathy with it. And so the Master
put aside the pretext. Addressing him as a ' wicked and
slothful servant,' He pointed out that, even on his own
showing, if he had been afraid to incur responsibility, he
might have ' cast ' (a word intended to mark the absence
of labour) the money to ' the bankers,' when, at His
return, He would have received His own, ' with interest.'
Thus he might, without incurring responsibility, or much
labour, have been, at least in a limited sense, faithful to
his duty and trust as a servant.
But as regards the punishment of the ' unprofitable '
servant in the Parable, the well-known one of him that
had come to the Marriage-Feast without the wedding-
garment shall await him, while the talent, which he had
failed to employ for his master, shall be entrusted to him
who had shown himself most capable of working.
3. To these Parables, that of the King who on his re
turn makes reckoning with his servants and his enemies
may be regarded as supplemental. It is recorded only by
St. Luke, and placed by him in somewhat loose connection

Parable of the Minas 523
with the conversion of Zacchaeus." The most superficial
•stLuke perusal will show such unmistakable similarity
xix. 11-28 witll the Parable of ' The Talents,' that their
identity will naturally suggest itself to the reader. On
the other hand, there are remarkable divergences in detail,
some of which seem to imply a different standpoint from
which the same truth is viewed. We have also now the
additional feature of the message of hatred on the part of
the citizens, and their fate in consequence of it.
A brief analysis will suffice to point out the special
lessons of this Parable. It introduces ' a certain Noble
man,' who has claims to the throne, but has not yet re
ceived the formal appointment from the suzerain power.
As he is going away to receive it, he deals as yet only
with his servants. His object, apparently, is to try their
aptitude, devotion, and faithfulness ; and so he hands —
not to each according to his capacity, but to all equally, a
sum, not large (such as talents), but small — to ea.ch a
'mina,' equal to about 31. 5s. of our money. To trade
with so small a sum would, of course, be much more diffi
cult, and success would imply greater ability, even as it
would require more constant labour. Here we have some
traits in which this differs from the Parable of the Talents.
The same small sum is supposed to have been entrusted
to all, in order to show which of them was most able and
most earnest, and hence who should be called to largest
employment, and with it to greatest honour in the King
dom. While ' the Nobleman ' was at the court of his
suzerain, a deputation of his fellow-citizens arrived to urge
this resolution of theirs : ' We will not that this one reign
over us.' It was simply an expression of hatred ; it stated
no reason, and only urged personal opposition, even if such
were in the face of the personal wish of the sovereign who
appointed him king.
In the last scene, the King, now duly appointed, has
returned to his country. He first* reckons with his ser
vants, when it is found that all but one have been faithful
to their trust, though with varying success (the mina of
the one having grown into ten ; that of another into five,

524 Jesus the Messiah
and so on). In strict accordance with that success is now
their further appointment to rule — work here corresponding
to rule there, which, however, as we know from the Parable
of the Talents, is also work for Christ : a rule that is work,
and work that is rule. At the same time, the acknowledg
ment is the same to all the faithful servants. Similarly,
the motives, the reasoning, and the fate of the unfaithful
servant are the same as in the Parable of the Talents. But
as regards His ' enemies,' that would not have Him reign
over them — manifestly, Jerusalem and the people of Israel
— who, even after He had gone to receive the Kingdom,
continued the personal hostility of their ' We will not that
this One shall reign over us ' — the ashes of the Temple,
the ruins of the City, the blood of the fathers, and the
homeless wanderings of their children, attest that the
King has many ministers to execute that judgment which
obstinate rebellion must surely bring, if His Authority is
to be vindicated, and His Rule to secure submission.

CHAPTER LXXVIII.

THE FOURTH DAY IN PASSION-WEEK — THE BETRAYAL —
JUDAS : HIS CHARACTER, APOSTASY, AND END.
(St. Matt. xxvi. 1-5, 14-16 ; St. Mark xiv. 1, 2, 10, 11 ; St. Luke xxii. 1-G.)
The three busy days of Passion- Week were past. Only
two days more, as the Jews reckoned them — that Wednes
day and Thursday — and at its even the Paschal Supper.
And Jesus passed that day of rest and preparation in quiet
retirement with His disciples, speaking to them of His
Crucifixion on the near Passover. They sorely needed
His words ; they, rather than He, needed to be prepared
for what was coming. "*" "  ¦  " "
On that Wednesday it was impossible to misunder
stand ; it could scarcely have been possible to doubt what
Jesus said of His near Crucifixion. If illusions had still
existed, the last two days must have rudely dispelled them.

Character of Judas 525
The triumphal Hosannas of His Entry into the City, and
the acclamations in the Temple, had given place to the
cavils of Pharisees, Sadducees, and Scribes, and with a
'Woe' upon it Jesus had taken His last departure from
Israel's Sanctuary. And better far than those rulers, whom
conscience made cowards, did the disciples know how little
reliance could be placed on the adherence of the ' multi
tude.' And now the Master was telling it to them in plain
words ; was calmly contemplating it, and that not as in the
dim future, but in the immediate present — at that very Pass
over, from which scarcely two days separated them. Much
as we wonder at their brief scattering on His arrest and
condemnation, those humble disciples must have loved
Him much to sit around Him in mournful silence as He
thus spake, and to follow Him unto His Dying.
But to one of them, in whose heart the darkness had
long been gathering, this was the decisive moment. The
prediction of Christ, which Judas as well as the others
must have felt to be true, extinguished the last glimmering
of such light of Christ as his soul had been capable of
receiving. By the open door out of which he had thrust
» st Lute thQ dying Christ ' Satan entered into Judas.' a
™i 3 Yet, even so, not permanently.1" It may indeed
xi?i!'2Jand he doubted whether, since God is in Christ, such
27 can ever be the case in any human soul, at least
on this side eternity.
It is a terrible study, that of Judas. We seem to tread
our way over loose stones of hot molten lava, as we climb
to the edge of the crater, and shudderingly look down into
its depths. And yet there, near there, have stood not only
St. Peter in the night of his denial, but mostly all of us,
save they whose Angels have always looked up into the
Face of our Father in heaven. There, near there, have we
stood. But He prayed for us — and through the night
came the Light of His Presence, and above the storm rose
the Voice of Him Who has come to seek and to save that
which was lost.
A terrible study this of Judas, and best to make it
here, at once, from its beginning to its end.

526 Jesus the Messiah
We remember that ' Judas, the man of Kerioth,' was,
so far as we know, the only disciple of Jesus fromthe pro
vince of Judaea. This circumstance ; that he carriea nie
bag, i.e. was treasurer and administrator of the small com
mon stock of Christ and His disciples ; and that he was
- st. John both a hypocrite and a thief a — this is all that we
xii- 5. 6 know for certain of his history. From the cir
cumstance that he was appointed to such office of trust in
the Apostolic community, we infer that he must have been
looked up to by the others as an able and prudent man, a
good administrator. The question, why Jesus left him ' the
bag ' after He knew him to be a thief — which, as we believe,
he was not at the beginning, and only became in the course
of time and in the progress of disappointment — is best
answered by this other : Why He originally allowed it to
be entrusted to Judas ? It was not only because he was
best fitted for such work, but also in mercy to him, in view
of his character. To engage in that for which a man is
naturally fitted is the most likely means of keeping him
from dissatisfaction, alienation, and eventual apostasy. On
the other hand, it must be admitted that, as most of our
life-temptations come to us from that for which we have
most aptitude, when Judas was alienated and unfaithful in
heart, this very thing became also his greatest temptation,
and, indeed, hurried him to his ruin. But only after he
had first failed inwardly.
This very gift of ' government ' in Judas may also help
j^s to understand how he may have been first attracted to
Jesus, and through what process, when alienated, he came
to end in that terrible sin which had cast its snare about
him. Judas was drawn to Jesus _as the Jewish Messiah,
and he believed in Him as such ; b"ut. he expected tlTaf His
, jwould be the success, the result, and the triumphs of the
Jewish Messiah, and he also expected to share in them.
How deep-rooted were such feelings even in the purest,
and most unselfish of Jesus' disciples, we gather from the
request of the mother of John and James for her sons, and
from Peter's question : ' What snail we UitvTjj1 '
He had, trom such (MlVidJiuii Us we" have described,

Character of Judas 52^
joined the movement at its very commencement. Then,
multitudes in Galilee followed His Footsteps, and watched
for His every appearance. The Baptist, who had bowed
before Him and testified to Him, was still lifting his voice
to proclaim the near Kingdom. But the people had turned
after Jesus, and He swayed them. And Judas also had
been one of them who, on their early Mission, had tempo
rarily had power given him, so that the very devils had
been subject to them. But step by step had come the
disappointment. John was beheaded, and not avenged ;
on the contrary, Jesus withdrew Himself, Tnis constant
"withdrawing. wrmtflUr from jyiHffffS^orTrrTm success— almost
amounting to flight — evenTwhen "they would have made
Him a King ; this relusal to show. Himself openly, either"
at Jerusalem, as His own brethren had taunted Him, or
indeed, anywhere else ; this uniform preaching of discour
agement to them, when they came to Him elated and hope
ful at some success ; this gathering enmity of Israel's
leaders, and His marked ¦ avoidance of, or, as some might
have put it, His failure in taking up the repeated public
challenge of the Pharisees to show a sign from heaven ;
last, and chief of all, this constant and'-growing1 1'efeTence"
to shame, disaster, and death — what did it all mean, if not
disappointment of those hopes and expectations which had
made Judas at the first a disciple of Jesus ? — "
He that so knew Jesus, not only in His Words and
Deeds, but in His inmost Thoughts, even to His night-long
communing with God on the hill-side, could not have
seriously believed in the coarse Pharisaic charge of Satanic
agency as the explanation of all. Yet, from the then
Jewish standpoint, he could scarcely have found it impos
sible to suggest some other explanation of His miraculous
power. But, as increasingly the moral and spiritual aspect
of Christ's Kingdom became apparent, the bitter disap
pointment of his Messianic thoughts and hopes must have
gone on increasing in proportion as, side by side with it,
the process of moral alienation, unavoidably connected with
his resistance to such spiritual manifestations, continued
and increased.

in tne reStmlness of Bethany,
when the Master was taking His Farewell of friends and
disciples, and told them what was to happen only two
days later at the Passover, it was all settled in the soul
of Judas. ' Satan entered ' it. Christ would be crucified ;
this was quite certain. In the general cataclysm let
Judas have at least something. And so he left them to
seek speech of them that were gathered, not in their
ordinary meeting-place, but in the High-Priest's Palace.
Even this indicates that it was an informal meeting, con
sultative rather than judicial. For it was one of the
principles of Jewish Law that, in criminal cases, sentence
must be spoken in the regular meeting-place of the
Sanhedrin. There had previously been a similar gather
ing and consultation, when the report of the raising of
•st John xi. Lazarus reached the authorities of Jerusalem.*
47, 48 The practical resolution adopted at that meeting
had apparently been, that a strict watch should hence
forth be kept on Christ's movements, and that every one
of them, as well as the names of His friends, and the
places of His secret retirement, should be communicated
to the authorities, with the view to His arrest at
the proper moment.15
It was probably in professed obedience to this direc
tion, that the traitor presented himself that afternoon in
the Palace of the High-Priest Caiaphas. Those assembled
there were the ' chiefs ' of the Priesthood— no doubt, the
Temple-officials, heads of the courses of Priests, and con
nections of the High-Priestly family, who constituted what
was designated as the Priestly Council. But in that
meeting in the Palace of Caiaphas, besides these Priestly
Chiefs, the leading Sanhedrists (' Scribes and Elders ')
were also gathered. They were deliberating how Jesus
might be taken by subtilty and killed. Probably they
had not yet fixed on any definite plan. Only at this con
clusion had they arrived — perhaps in consequence of" the
popular acclamations at His Entry into Jerusalem, and of
what had since happened — that nothing must be done
during the Feast, for fear of some popular tumult. They

The Betrayal 529
knew only too well the character of Pilate, and how in any
such tumult all parties — the leaders as well as the led —
might experience summary vengeance.
It must have been intense relief when, in their per
plexity, the traitor now presented himself before them
with his proposals. Yet his reception was not such as he
may have looked for. He probably expected to be hailed
and treated as a most important ally. They were, indeed,
' glad, and covenanted to give him money,' as he promised
to dog His steps, and watch for the opportunity which they
sought. Yet, withal, they treated Judas not as an honoured
associate, but as a common informer, and a contemptible
betrayer. This was in the circumstances the wisest
policy, alike in order to save their own dignity, and to
keep most secure hold on the betrayer. And Judas had
at last to speak it out barefacedly — so selling himself as
well as the Master : ' What will ye give me ? ' It was in
, Zech_ ^ 12 literal fulfilment of prophecy," that they 'weighed
out ' to him from the very Temple-treasury those
thirty pieces of silver (about SI. 15s.) And yet it was
surely as much in contempt of the seller as of Him Whom
he sold, that they paid the legal price of a slave. Or did
they mean some kind of legal fiction, such as to buy the
Person of Jesus at the legal price of a slave, so as sto hand
it afterwards over to the secular authorities ?
Yet Satan must once more enter the heart of Judas at
» st John tna* Supper, before he can finally do the deed.6
x™-27 But, even so, we believe it was not for always —
for he had still a conscience working in him. With this
element he had not reckoned in his bargain in the High
Priest's Palace. On the morrow of His condemnation
would it exact a terrible account. That night in Geth-
semane never more passed from his soul. In the thicken
ing gloom all around, he must have ever seen only the
torchlight glare as it fell on the pallid Face of the Divine
Sufferer. In the stillness before the storm, he must have
ever heard only these words : ' Betrayest thou the Son of
Man with a kiss ? * He did not hate Jesus then — he
hated nothing; he hated everything. He was utterly
M M

530 Jesus the Messiah
desolate, as the storm of despair swept over his soul. No
one in heaven or on earth to appeal to ; no one, Angel or
man, to stand by him. Not the Priests, who had paid him
the price of blood, would have aught of him ; not even the
thirty pieces of silver, the blood-money of his Master and
of his own soul — even as the modern Synagogue, which
approves of what has been done, but not of the deed, will
have none of him ! With their ' See thou to it ! ' they
sent him back into his darkness. Not so could conscience
be stilled. And, louder than the ring of the thirty silver
pieces as they fell on the marble pavement of the Temple,
it rang in his soul : ' I have betrayed innocent blood ! '
Deeper — farther out into the night! to its farthest
bounds — where rises and falls the dark flood of death.
The storm has lashed the waters into fury : they toss and
break at his feet. One narrow rift in the cloud-curtain
overhead, and, in the pale, deathlike light lies the Figure
ofthe Christ, calm and placid, untouched and unharmed,
as It had been that night on the Lake of Galilee, when
Judas had seen Him come to them over the surging
billows, and then bid them be peace. Peace ! What
peace to him now — in earth, or heaven ? It was the same
Christ, but thorn-crowned, with nail-prints in His Hands
and Feet. And this Judas had done to the Master !
Only for one moment did it seem to lie there ; then it was
sucked up by the dark waters beneath. And again the
cloud-curtain is drawn, only more closely ; the darkness is
thicker, and the storm wilder than before. Out into that
darkness, with one wild plunge — there, where the Figure
of the Dead Christ had lain. And the waters have closed
around him in eternal silence. • • • •
Can there be a store in the Eternal Compassion for the
Betrayer of Christ ?

53i

CHAPTER LXXIX.
the fifth day in passion-week — 'make ready the
passover!'
(St. Matt. xxvi. 17-19 ; St. Mark xiv. 12-16 ; St. Luke xxii. 7-13 ;
St. John xiii. 1.)
When the traitor returned from Jerusalem on the Wednes
day afternoon, the Passover, in the popular and canonical,
though not in the Biblical sense, was close at hand. It
began on the 14th Nisan, that is, from the appearance of
the first three stars on Wednesday evening [the even
ing of what had been the 13th], and ended with the first
three stars' on Thursday evening [the evening of what
had been the 14th day of Nisan]. The absence of the
traitor so close upon the Feast would therefore be the
less noticed by the others. Necessary preparations might
have to be made, even though they were to be guests in
some house — they knew not which. Those would, of course,
devolve on Judas. Besides, from previous conversations
they may also have judged that 'the man of Kerioth*
would fain escape what the Lord had all that day been
telling them about, and which was now filling their minds
and hearts.
Everyone in Israel was thinking about the Feast. For
the previous month it had been the subject of discussion
in the Academies, and, for the last two Sabbaths at least,
of discourse in the Synagogues. Everyone was geing to
Jerusalem, or had those near and dear to them there, or
at least watched the festive processions to the Metropolis
of Judaism. It was a gathering of universal Israel, that
of the memorial of the birth-night of the nation, and of
its Exodus, when friends from afar would meet, and new
friends be made. National and religious feelings were
alike stirred in what reached back to the first, and pointed
forward to the final Deliverance. On that day a Jew
might well glory in being a Jew. But we must try to
follow the footsteps of Christ and His Disciples, and see or
know only what on that day they saw and did.
M m 2

532 Jesus the Messiah
For ecclesiastical purposes Bethphage and Bethany seem
to have been included in Jerusalem. But Jesus must keep
the Feast in the City itself, although, if His purpose had
not been interrupted, He would have spent the night out
side its walls. The first preparations for the Feast would
begin shortly after the return of the traitor. For on the
evening [ofthe 13th] commenced the 14th of Nisan, when
a solemn search was made with lighted candle throughout
each house for any leaven that might be hidden or have
fallen aside by accident. Such was put by in a safe place,
and afterwards destroyed with the rest. In Galilee it was
the usage to abstain wholly from work ; in Judasa the
day was divided, and actual work ceased only at noon,
though nothing new was taken in hand even in the morn
ing. This division of the day for festive purposes was a
Rabbinic addition; and by way of a hedge round it, an
hour before midday was fixed after which nothing leavened
might be eaten. The more strict abstained from it even an
hour earlier (at ten o'clock), lest the eleventh hour might
insensibly run into the forbidden midday. But there could
be little real danger of this, since, by way of public notifi
cation, two desecrated thankoffering cakes were laid on a
bench in the Temple, the removal of one of which indicated
that the time for eating what was leavened had passed ; the
removal of the other, that the time for destroying all leaven
had come.
It was probably after the early meal, and when the
eating of leaven had ceased, that Jesus sent Peter and
¦st. Luke John3- with the view of preparing the ordinary
n"- 8 Paschal Supper. For the first time we see them
here joined together by the Lord, these two, who hence
forth were to be so closely connected : he of deepest feeling
with him of quickest action. The direction which the
Lord gave, while once more evidencing to them the Divine
fore-knowledge of Christ, had also its human meaning.
Evidently neither the house where the Passover was to be
kept, nor its owner, was to be named beforehand within
hearing of Judas. The sign which Jesus gave the two
Apostles reminds us of that by which Samuel of old had

'Make Ready the Passover' 533
conveyed assurance and direction to Saul.* On their en«
trance into Jerusalem they would meet a man —
manifestly a servant — carrying a pitcher of water.
Without accosting, they were to follow him, and when they
reached the house, to deliver to its owner this message :
' The Master saith, My time is at hand — with thee [i.e. in
thy house : the emphasis is on this] I hold the Passover
»st Mat- with my disciples.6 Where is My hostelry [or
1 • sT^Mark ' ^a^ '1 wnere I shstW eat t^6 Passover with My
and St. Luke disciples ? ' °
Two things here deserve marked attention. The dis
ciples were not bidden ask for the chief or ' upper
chamber,' but for what we have rendered, for want of
better, by ' hostelry,' or ' hall ' — the place in the house
where, as in an open Khan, the beasts of burden were un
loaded, shoes and staff, or dusty garment and burdens put
down — if an apartment, at least a common one, certainly
ast Mark n0* ^ne best. Except in this place,4 the word
g-u;.st only occurs as the designation of the 'inn' or
' hostelry ' in Bethlehem, where the Virgin-
Mother brought forth her first-born Son, and laid Him in
• st. Luke a manger.e He Who was born in a ' hostelry '
"•7 was content to ask for His last meal in one.
Only, and this we mark secondly, it must be His own. It
was a common practice that more than one company par
took of the Paschal Supper in the same apartment. In
the multitude of those who would sit down to the Paschal
Supper this was unavoidable, for all partook of it, includ
ing women and children, only excepting those who were
Levitically unclean. And though each company might
not consist of less than ten, it was not to be larger than
that each should be able to partake of at least a small
portion of the Paschal Lamb — and we know how small
lambs are in the East. But while He only asked for His
last meal in some hall opening on the open court, Christ
would have it His own — to Himself, to eat the Passover
alone with His Apostles. Not even a company of dis
ciples — such as the owner of the house unquestionably
was — n0r yet, be it marked, even the Virgin-Mother,

534 Jesus the Messiah
might be present, witness what passed, hear what He said,
or be at the first Institution of His Holy Supper. To us
at least this also recalls the words of St. Paul : ' I have
» 1 Cor. xi. received of the Lord that which I also delivered
23 unto you.' a
There can be no reasonable doubt that the owner of
the house was a disciple, although at festive seasons un
bounded hospitality was extended to strangers generally,
and no man in Jerusalem considered his house as strictly
his own, far less would let it out for hire. And this un
named disciple would assign to Him, not the Hall, but
the best and chiefest, ' the upper chamber,' or Aliyah, at
the same time the most honourable and the most retired
place, where from the outside stairs entrance and departure
might be had without passing through the house. ' The
upper room ' was ' large,' ' furnished and ready.' b
From Jewish authorities we know that the
average dining-apartment was computed at fifteen feet
square ; the expression ' furnished,' no doubt, refers to the
arrangement of couches all round the Table, except at its
end, since it was a canon that the very poorest must par
take of that Supper in a reclining attitude, to indicate
rest, safety, and liberty ; while the term ' ready ' seems to
point to the ready provision of all that was required for
the Feast. In that case, all that the disciples would have
to ' make ready ' would be ' the Paschal Lamb,' and
perhaps that first festive Sacrifice, which, if the Paschal
Lamb itself would not suffice for Supper, was added
to it. And here it must be remembered that it was
of religion to fast till the Paschal Supper — as the Jeru
salem Talmud explains, in order the better to relish the
Supper. Perhaps it is not wise to attempt lifting the veil which
rests on the unnamed ' such an one,' whose was the pri
vilege of being the last Host of the Lord and the first
Host of His Church, gathered within the new bond of the
fellowship of His Body and Blood. And yet to us at
least it seems most likely that it was the house of Mark's
father (then still alive) — a large one, as we gather from

c Make Ready the Passover' 535
Acts xii. 13. Fer the most obvious explanation of the
introduction by St. Mark alone of such an incident as
that about the young man who was accompanying Christ
as He was led away captive, is that he was none other
than St. Mark himself. If so, we can understand how
the traitor may have first brought the Temple-guards, who
had come to seize Christ, to the house of Mark's father,
where the Supper had been held, and that, finding Him
gone, they had followed to Gethsemane, for ' Judas knew
the place, for Jesus ofttimes resorted thither with His
• st. John disciples ' a — and how Mark, startled from his
XTU1-1'2 sleep by the appearance of the armed men,
would hastily cast about him his loose tunic and run after
them : then, after the flight of the disciples, accompany
Christ, but escape intended arrest by leaving his tunic in
the hands of his would-be captors.
If the owner of the house had provided all that was
needed for the Supper, Peter and John would find there
the Wine for the four Cups, the cakes of unleavened Bread,
and probably also ' the bitter herbs.' Of the latter five
kinds are mentioned, which were to be dipped once in salt
water, or vinegar, and another time in a mixture made of
nuts, raisins, apples, almonds, &c. The wine was the or
dinary one of the country, only red ; it was mixed with
water, generally in the proportion of one part to two of
water. The quantity for each of the four Cups is stated by
one authority at what may be roughly computed at half a
tumbler — of course mixed with water. The Paschal Cup
is described as two fingers long by two fingers broad, and
its height as a finger, half a finger, and one-third of a
finger. All things being, as we presume, ready in the
furnished upper room, it would only remain for Peter and
John to see to the Paschal Lamb and anything else re
quired for the Supper, possibly also to what was to be
offered as festive sacrifice, and afterwards eaten at the
Supper. If the latter were to be brought, the disciples
would have to attend earlier in the Temple. The cost of
the Lamb, which had to be provided, was very small. So
low a sum as about threepence of our money is mentioned

536 Jesus the Messiah
for such a sacrifice. But we prefer the more reasonable
computation of from 2s. 6d. to 7s. 6d. of our money.
If we mistake not, these purchases had, however,
already been made on the previous afternoon by Judas.
It is not likely that they would have been left to the last ;
nor that He Who had so lately condemned the traffic in
the Courts of the Temple, would have sent His two dis
ciples thither to purchase the Paschal Lamb, which would
have been necessary to secure an animal that had passed
Levitical inspection, since on the Passover-day there would
have been no time to subject it to such scrutiny. On the
other hand, if Judas had made this purchase, we perceive
not only on what pretext he may have gone to Jerusalem
on the previous afternoon, but also how, on his way from
the Sheep-market to the Temple to have his lamb in
spected, he may have learned that the Chief-Priests and
Sanhedrists were just then in session in the Palace of
the High-Priest close by.
On the supposition just made, the task of Peter and
John would indeed have been simple. They left the
house of Mark with wondering but saddened hearts. Once
more had they had evidence how the Master's Divine
glance searched the future in all its details. And now it
would be time for the Evening Service and Sacrifice.
Ordinarily this began about 2.30 P.M. — the daily Evening
Sacrifice being actually offered up about an hour later ;
but on this occasion, on account of the Feast, the Service
was an hour earlier. As at about half-past one of our time
the two Apostles ascended the Temple-Mount, following a
dense crowd of Pilgrims, they would find the Priests'
Court filled with white-robed Priests and Levites — for on
that day all the twenty-four Courses were on duty, and
all their services would be called for, although only the
Course for that week would that afternoon engage in the
ordinary Service, which preceded that of the Feast. There
must have been to them a mournful significance in the
language of Ps. lxxxi., as the Levites chanted it that
afternoon in three sections, broken three times by the
threefold blast from the silver trumpets of the Priests.

'Make Ready the Passover' 537
Before the incense was burnt for the Evening Sacri
fice, or yet the lamps in the Golden Candlestick were
trimmed for the. night, the Paschal Lambs were slain.
The worshippers were admitted in three divisions within
the Court of the Priests. When the first company had
entered, the massive Nicanor Gates — which led from
the Court of the Women to that of Israel — and the other
side gates into the Court of the Priests were closed. A
threefold blast from the Priests' trumpets intimated that
the Lambs were being slain. This each Israelite did for
himself. We can scarcely be mistaken in supposing that
Peter and John would be in the first of the three companies
into which the offerers were divided ; for they must have
been anxious to be gone, and to meet the Master and their
brethren in that ' upper room.' Peter and John had
slain the Lamb. In two rows the officiating Priests stood,
up to the great Altar of Burnt-offering. As one caught
up the blood from the dying Lamb in a golden bowl, he
handed it to his colleague, receiving in return an empty
bowl ;. and so the blood was passed on to the Great Altar,
where it was jerked in one jet at the base of the Altar.
¦ Ps.cxiii. While this was going on, the Hallel* was being
to cxviu. chanted by the Levites. We remember that
only the first line of every Psalm was repeated by the
worshippers ; while to every other line they responded by
a Halleluyah, till Ps. cxviii. was reached, when, besides
the first, these three lines were also repeated : —
Save now, I beseech Thee, Lord ;
O Lobd, I beseech Thee, send now prosperity.
Blessed be He that cometh in the Name of the Lord.
Little more remained to be done. The sacrifice was
laid on staves which rested on the shoulders of Peter and
John, flayed, cleansed, and the parts which were to be
burnt on the Altar removed and prepared for burning.
The Lamb would be roasted on a pomegranate spit that
passed right through it from mouth to vent, special care
being taken that, in roasting, the Lamb did not touch the
oven. Everything else also would be made ready and

538 Jesus the Messiah
placed on a table which could be carried in and moved at
will ; finally, the festive lamps would be prepared.
' It was probably as the sun was beginning to decline
that Jesus and the other ten disciples descended once
more over the Mount of Olives into the Holy City. . . .
It was the last day-view which the Lord could take, free
and unhindered, of the Holy City till His Resurrection.
. . . He was going forward to accomplish His Death
in Jerusalem ; to fulfil type and prophecy, and to offer
Himself up as the true Passover Lamb — "the Lamb of
God, Which taketh away the sin of the world." They
who followed Him were busy with many thoughts. They
knew that terrible events awaited them, and they had only
shortly before been told that these glorious Temple-build
ings, to which, with a national pride not unnatural, they
had directed the attention of their Master, were to become
desolate, not one stone being left upon the other. Among
them, revolving his dark plans, and goaded on by the
great Enemy, moved the betrayer. And now they were
within the City. Its Temple, its royal bridge, its
splendid palaces, its busy marts, its streets filled with
festive pilgrims, were well known to them, as they made
their way to the house where the guest-chamber had been
prepared. Meanwhile, the crowd came down from the
Temple-Mount, each bearing on his shoulders tha sacrificial
Lamb, to make ready for the Paschal Supper.' 1
1 'The Temple and its Services,' pp. 194, 195.

THE LAST SUPPER.

539

CHAPTER LXXX.
THE PASCHAL SUPPER — THE INSTITUTION OF THE
lord's SUPPER.
(St. Matt. xxvi. 17-19 ; St. Mark xiv. 12-16 : St. Luke xxii. 7-13 ; St.
John xiii. 1; St. Matt. xxvi. 20 ; St. Mark xiv. 17; St. Luke xxii.
14-16; 24-30; 17, 18; St. John xiii. 2-20; St. Matt. xxvi. 21-24;
St. Mark xiv. 18-21; St. Luke xxii. 21 23; St. John xiii. 21-26;
St. Matt. xxvi. 25 ; St. John xiii. 26-38 ; St. Matt. xxvi. 26-29 ;
St. Mark xiv. 22-25 ; St. Luke xxii. 1 9, 20.)
The period designated as ' between the two even-
¦ Ex. xii. 6; ings,' a when -the Paschal Lamb was to be slain,
^? NuSb." was Past- The first three stars had become visible,
¦*- 3' 5 and the threefold blast of the Silver Trumpets
from the Temple-Mount rang out that the Pascha had once
more commenced. In the festively-lit ' upper chamber '
of St. Mark's house the Master and the Twelve were
gathered. So far as appears, or we have reason to infer, this
Passover was the only sacrifice ever offered by Jesus Him
self. If Christ were in Jerusalem at any Passover before
His Public Ministry began, He would have been a guest
at some table, not the Head of a Company (which must
consist of at least ten persons). Hence, He would not
have been the offerer of the Paschal Lamb. And of the
three Passovers since His Public Ministry had begun, at
the first His Twelve Apostles had not been gathered,b
i> st John so that He could not have appeared as the Head
u-13 of a Company; while at the second He was not
in Jerusalem but in the utmost parts of Galilee, in the
borderland of Tyre and Sidon, where no sacrifice could be
¦ st. Matt brought." What additional meaning does this
xv. 21 &o. giv6 t0 the words which He spake to the Twelve
as He sat down with them to the Supper : ' With- desire
have I desired to eat this Pascha with you before I suffer ! '
A significant Jewish legend connected almost every
great event and deliverance in Israel with the Night of the

540 Jesus the Messiah
Passover. The Pascha was indeed a Sacrifice distinct
from all others. It was not of the Law, for it was instituted
before the Law had been given or the Covenant ratified by
blood ; nay, in a sense it was the cause and the foundation
of all the Levitical Sacrifices and of the Covenant itself.
Just as the Priesthood of Christ was real, yet not after the
order of Aaron, so was the Sacrifice of Christ real, yet not
after the order of Levitical sacrifices, but after that of the
Passover. It is difficult to decide how much, not only of the pre
sent ceremonial, but even of the rubric for the Paschal
Supper as contained in the oldest Jewish documents, may
have been obligatory at the time of Christ. We may take
it that, as prescribed, all would appear at the Paschal
Supper in festive array. We also know that, as the Jewish
Law directed, they reclined on pillows around a low table,
each resting on his left hand, so as to leave the right free.
But ancient Jewish usage casts a strange light on the scene
with which the Supper opened. The Supper began with
' a contention among them, which of them should be ac
counted to be greatest.' We can have no doubt that its
occasion was the order in which they should occupy places
at the table. We know that this was subject of contention
among the Pharisees, and that they claimed to be seated
according to their rank. Even if we had not further in
dications of it, we should instinctively associate such a
strife in this instance with the presence of Judas.
Around a low Eastern table, oval or rather elongated,
two parts covered with a cloth, and standing or else sus
pended, the single divans or pillows are ranged in the form
of an elongated horseshoe, leaving free one end of the table,
somewhat as in the accompanying woodcut. Here A re
presents the table, B B respectively the ends of the two
rows of single divans on which each guest reclines on
his left side, with his head (c) nearest the table, and his
feet (d) stretching back towards the ground.
Christ reclined on the middle divan. We know from
the Gospel-narrative that John occupied the place on His
right, at that end of the divans — as we may call it — at

The Paschal Supper

54i

r\

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0

~S

r ~>
1-
69
a !
C
A
£r
8
TABLE
«5
B
^- -<
^
D
the head of the table, otherwise he could not have leaned
back upon His Bosom. But the chief place next to the
Master would be that to „
His left, or above Him.
In the strife of the disci
ples, which should be ac
counted the greatest, this
had been claimed, and we
believe it to have been
actually occupied by Judas.
This explains how, when
Christ whispered to John by
• stJohn wnat sign to recog-
^i-26 nise the traitor,8
none of the other disciples
heard it. It also explain show
Christ would first hand to
Judas the sop, which formed
part of the Paschal ritual, beginning with him as the chief
guest at the table, without thereby exciting special notice.
Lastly, it accounts for the circumstance that when Judas,
desirous of ascertaining whether his treachery was known,
dared to ask whether it was he, and received the affirmative
b st. Matt answer,1" no one at table knew what had passed.
xxvi. 25 Buk this could not have been the case, unless
Judas had occupied the place next to Christ ; in this case,
necessarily that at His left, or the post of chief honour.
As regards Peter, we can quite understand how, when the
Lord with such loving words rebuked their self-seeking
and taught them of the greatness of Christian humility, he
should, in his impetuosity of shame, have rushed to take
the lowest place at the other end of the table. Finally, we
can now understand how Peter could beckon to John, who
sat at the opposite end of the table, over against him, and
ask him across the table who the traitor was.0
The rest of the disciples would occupy such places
as were most convenient, or suited their fellowship with
one another.
The words which the Master spoke as He appeased
« St. John
xiii. 24
542 Jesus the Messiah
their unseemly strife must, indeed, have touched them to
the quick. First, He showed them the difference between
worldly honour and distinction in the Church of Christ.
In the world kingship lay in supremacy and lordship,
and 'the title of Benefactor accompanied the sway of power.
But in the Church the ' greater ' would not exercise lord
ship, but become as the less and the younger [the latter
referring to the circumstance that age, next to learning,
was regarded among the Jews as a claim to distinction and
the chief seats] ; while instead of him that had authority
being called Benefactor, the relationship would be reversed,
• st.Luke and he that served would be chief.8. Having
xxiL25, 26 t^g shown them the character and title to that
greatness in the Kingdom which was in prospect for them,
He pointed them in this respect also to Himself as their
example. The reference here is, of course, not to the act of
symbolic foot-washing, but to the tenor of His whole Life
and the object of His Mission, as of One Who served, not
was served. Lastly, He woke them to the higher con
sciousness of their own calling. Assuredly, they would
not lose their reward ; but not here, nor yet now. They
had shared, and would share His ' trials ' — His being set
at nought, despised, persecuted ; but they would also share
His glory. As the Father had ' covenanted ' to Him, so
He ' covenanted ' and bequeathed to them a Kingdom, ' in
order,' or ' so that,' in it they might have festive fellowship
of rest and of joy with Him. What to them must have been
' temptations,' and in that respect also to Christ, they had
endured : instead of Messianic glory, such as they may at
first have thought of, they had witnessed only contradiction,
denial, and shame — and they had ' continued ' with Him.
But the Kingdom was also coming. When His glory was
manifested, their acknowledgment would also come. Here
Israel had rejected the King and His Messengers, but then
would that same Israel be judged by their word. A Royal
dignity this, indeed, but one of service ; a full Royal ac
knowledgment, but one of work.
So speaking, the Lord commenced the Supper, which
in itself was symbol and pledge of what He had. just said

The Paschal Supper 543
and promised. The Paschal Supper began, as always, by
the Head of the Company taking the first cup, and speaking
over it 'the thanksgiving.' The form presently in use
consists really of two benedictions — the first over the wine,
the second for the return of this Feastday with all that it
implies, and for being preserved once more to witness it.1
Turning to the Gospels, the words which follow the record
» st. Luke of the benediction on the part of Christ a seem to
xxii.17, is imply that Jesus had, at any rate, so far made
use of the ordinary thanksgiving as to speak both these
benedictions. That over the wine was quite simple : ' Blessed
art Thou, Jehovah our God, Who hast created the fruit ofthe
Vine ! ' We need not doubt that these were the very words
spoken by our Lord. It is otherwise as regards the bene
diction ' over the day,' which contains words expressive of
Israel's national pride and self-righteousness, such as we
cannot think would have been uttered by our Lord. With
this exception, however, they were no doubt identical in
contents with the present formula. This we infer from
what the Lord added, as He passed the cup round the circle
ofthe disciples. No more, so He told them, would He speak
the benediction over the fruit ofthe vine — not again utter
the thanks ' over the day,' that they had been ' preserved
alive, sustained, and brought to this season.' Another
Wine, and at another Feast, now awaited Him — that in
the future, when the Kingdom would come. It was to be
the last of the old Paschas ; the first, or rather the symbol
and promise, of the new.
The cup in which, according to express Rabbinic testi
mony, the wine had been mixed with water before it was
' blessed,' had passed round. The next part of the cere
monial was for the Head of the Company to rise and ' wash
b st. John hands.' It is this part of the ritual of which St.
sau- Johnb records the adaptation and transformation
on the part of Christ. The washing of the disciples' feet
is evidently connected with the ritual of ' handwashing.'
Now this was done twice during the Paschal Supper : the
first time by the Head of the Company alone, immediately
1 The whole formula is given in ' The Temple and its Services,' pp. 204,205.

544 Jesus the Messiah
after the first cup ; the second time by all present, at a
much later part of the service, immediately before the actual
meal (on the Lamb, &c.) If the footwashing had taken
place on the latter occasion, it is natural to suppose that
when the Lord rose all the disciples would have followed
His example, and so the washing of their feet would have
been impossible. Again, the footwashing, which was in
tended both as a lesson and as an example of humility and
• st John service," was evidently connected with the dis-
xm. 12-16 pUte ' which of them should be accounted to be
greatest.' If so, the symbolical act of our Lord must have
followed close on the strife ofthe disciples, and on our Lord's
teaching what in the Church constituted rule and great
ness. Hence the act must have been connected with the
first handwashing — that by the Head of the Company —
immediately after the first cup, and not with that at a
later period, when much else had intervened.
All else fits in with this. For clearness' sake, the
i> st. John account given by St. John b may here be recapi-
xm- tulated. The opening words concerning the love
of Christ to His own unto the end form the general intro
duction. Then follows the account of what happened
' during Supper ' ° — the Supper itself being left
undescribed — beginning, by way of explanation
of what is to be told about Judas, with this : ' The Devil
having already cast into his (Judas') heart, that Judas
Iscariot, the son of Simon, shall betray Him.' General as
this notice is, it contains much that requires special atten
tion. Thankfully we feel that the heart of man was not
capable of originating the Betrayal of Christ ; humanity
had fallen, but not so low. It was the Devil who had
'cast' it into Judas' heart — with force and overwhelming ,
power. Again we mark the full description of the name
and parentage of the traitor. It reads like the wording of
a formal indictment.
If what Satan had cast into the heart of Judas explains
his conduct, so does the knowledge which Jesus possessed
account for that He was about to do.d Many
as are the thoughts suggested by the words,

Christ Washeth the Disciples' Feet 545
' Knowing that the Father had given all things into His
Hands, and that He came forth from God, and goeth unto
God' — yet, fro. a their evident connection, they must in
the first instance be applied to the footwashing, of which
they are, so to speak, the logical antecedent. And so,
' during Supper,' which had begun with the first cup, ' He
riseth from Supper.' The disciples would scarcely marvel
except that He should conform to that practice of hand
washing, which, as He had often explained, was, as a
ceremonial observance, unavailing for those who were not
inwardly clean, and needless and unmeaning in them
whose heart and life had been purified. But they must
have wondered as they saw Him put off His upper garment,
gird Himself with a towel, and pour water into a basin, like
a slave who was about to perform the meanest service.
From the position which, as we have shown, Peter occu
pied at the end of the table, it was natural that the Lord
should begin with him the act of footwashing. Besides,
had He first turned to others, Peter must either have re
monstrated before, or else his later expostulation would
have been tardy, and an act of self-righteousness or need
less humility. As it was, the surprise with which he and
the others had witnessed the preparation of the Lord, burst
into characteristic language when Jesus approached him to
wash his feet. ' Lord — Thou — of me washest the feet ! '
It was the utterance of deepest reverence for the Master,
and yet of utter misunderstanding of the meaning of His
action, perhaps even of His Work. Jesus was now but
doing what before He had spoken.
But Peter had understood none of these things. He
only felt the incongruousness of their relative positions.
And so the Lord, partly also wishing thereby to lead his
impetuosity to the absolute submission of faith, and partly
to indicate the deeper truth he was to learn in the future,
only told him that though he knew it not now, he would
understand hereafter what the Lord was doing. Hereafter-
when, after that night of terrible fall, he would learn by
the Lake of Galilee what it really meant to feed the lambs
and to tend the sheep of Christ; hereafter — when no longer,
N N

546 Jesus the Messiah
as when he had been young, he would gird himself and
walk whither he would. But, even so, Peter could not
content himself with the prediction that in the future he
would understand and enter into what Christ was doing in
washing their feet. Never, he declared, could he allow it.
The same feelings, which had prompted him to attempt
withdrawing the Lord from the path of humiliation and
¦ st Matt, suffering," now asserted themselves again. It was
xvi.22 personal affection, indeed, but it was also un
willingness to submit to the humiliation of the Cross. And
so the Lord told him that if He washed him not, he had
no part with Him. Not that the bare act of washing gave
him part in Christ, but that the refusal to submit to it
would have deprived him of it ; and that to share in this
washing was, as it were, the way to have part in Christ's
service of love, to enter into it, and to share it.
Still Peter did not understand. But as, on that morn
ing by the Lake of Galilee, it appeared that when he had
lost all else he had retained love, so did love to the Christ
now give him the victory — and, once more with character
istic impetuosity, he would have tendered not only his feet
to be washed, but his hands and head. Yet here also was
there misunderstanding. There was deep symbolical mean
ing, not only in that Christ did it, but also in what He did.
What He did, meant His work and service of love ; the
constant cleansing of our walk and life in the love of
Christ, and in the service of that love. The action was
symbolic, and meant that the disciple who was already
bathed and made clean in heart and spirit, required only
this — to wash his feet in spiritual consecration to the ser
vice of love which Christ had here shown forth in symbolic
act. And so His Words referred not to the forgiveness of
our daily sins — the introduction of which would have been
abrupt and unconnected with the context — but, in contrast
to all self-seeking, to the daily consecration of our life to
the service of love after the example of Christ.
They were clean, these disciples, but not all. For He
knew that there was among them he ' that was betraying
Him.' He knew it, but not with the knowledge of an in-

Christ Washeth the Disciples' Feet 547
evitable fate impending, far less of an absolute decree, but
with that knowledge which would again and again speak
out the warning, if by any means he might be saved.
The solemn service of Christ now went on in the silence
¦ st John of reverent awe." None dared question Him
xm. 12-17 nor rggig^ ft was ended, and He had resumed
His upper garment, and again taken His place at the Table.
It was His now by illustrative words to explain the prac
tical application of what had just been done. They were
wont to call Him by the two highest names of Teacher and
Lord, and these designations were rightly His. For the
first time He fully accepted and owned the highest homage.
How much more, then, must His Service of love, Who was
their Teacher and Lord, serve as example of what was due
by each to his fellow-disciple and fellow-servant ! No
principle better known, almost proverbial in Israel, than
that a servant was not to claim greater honour than his
master, nor yet he that was sent than he who had sent
him. They knew this, and now also the meaning of the
symbolic act of footwashing ; and if they acted it out, then
theirs would be the promised ' Beatitude.'
This reference to what were familiar expressions among
the Jews, leads us to supplement a few illustrative notes
from the same source. The Greek word for ' the towel,'
with which our Lord girded Himself, occurs also in Rab
binic writings, to denote the towel used in washing and at
baths. Such girding was the common mark of a slave, by
whom the service of footwashing was ordinarily performed.
Again, the combination of these two designations, ' Rabbi
and Lord,' or ' Rabbi, Father, and Lord,' was among those
most common on the part of disciples. The idea that if
a man knows (for example, the Law) and does not do it, it
» comp. were better for him not to have been created,b is
ver. 17 not unfrequently expressed. But the most in
teresting reference is in regard to the relation between the
sender and the sent, and a servant and his master. In
regard to the former, it is proverbially said, that while he
that is sent stands on the same footing as he who sent him,
yet he must oxpect less honour. And as regards Christ's
N N 2

548 Jesus the Messiah
statement that ' the servant is not greater than his Master,'
there is a passage in which we read, in connection with
the sufferings of the Messiah : ' It is enough for the servant
that he be like his Master.'
But to return. The footwashing on the part of Christ,
in which Judas had shared, together with the explanatory
words that followed, required this limitation : ' I speak not
of you all.' For it would be a night of moral sifting to
them all. We come here upon these words of deepest
mysteriousness : ' I know those I chose ; but that the Scrip
ture may be fulfilled, He that eateth My Bread lifteth up his
« Ps xii 9 ¦nee^ agailast Me.a Jesus had, from the first, known
the inmost thoughts of those He bad chosen to be
His Apostles ; but by this treachery of one of their number,
the terrible prediction of the worst enmity, that of ingrati
tude, would receive its complete fulfilment. The word
' that ' does not mean ' in order that,' or ' for the purpose
of; ' it never means this in such a connection ; and it would
be altogether irrational to suppose that an event happened
in order that a special prediction might be fulfilled. Rather
does it indicate the higher internal connection in the suc
cession of events, when an event had taken place in the
free determination of its agents, by which, all unknown to
them and Unthought of by others, that unexpectedly came
to pass which had been Divinely foretold. Thus the word
'that' marks not the connection between causation and
effect, but between the Divine antecedent and the human
subsequent. We know not whether Christ spoke all these things
continuously, after He had sat down, having washed
the disciples' feet. More probably it was at different parts
of the meal. This would also account for the seeming
» st. John abruptness of this concluding sentence : b ' He
xiiL20 that receiveth whomsoever I send receiveth Me.'
And yet the internal connection of thought seems clear.
The apostasy and loss of one of the Apostles was known
to Christ. His words conveyed an assurance that any
such break would not be lasting, and that in this respect
also ' the foundation of God standeth.'

The Paschal Supper 549
In the meantime the Paschal Supper was proceeding.
According to the rubric, after the ' washing ' the dishes
were immediately to be brought on the table. Then the
Head of the Company would dip some of the bitter herbs
into the salt-water or vinegar, speak a blessing, and par
take of them, then hand them to each in the company.
Next, he would break one ofthe unleavened cakes (accord
ing to the present ritual the middle of the three), of which
half was put aside for after supper. This is called the
Aphiqomon, or after-dish, and as we believe that ' the
bread ' of the Holy Eucharist was the Aphiqomon, some
particulars may here be of interest. The dish in which
the broken cake lies (not the Aphiqomon), is elevated,
and these words are spoken : ' This is the bread of misery
which our fathers ate in the land of Egypt. All that are
hungry, come and eat ; all that are needy, come, keep the
Pascha.' In the more modern ritual the words are added :
' This year here, next year in the land of Israel ; this year
bondsmen, next year free ! ' On this the second cup is
filled, and the youngest in the company is instructed to
make formal inquiry as to the meaning of all the observ
ances of that night, when the Liturgy proceeds to give
full -answers as regards the festival, its occasion, and
ritual. We do not suppose that even the earlier ritual
represents the exact observances at the time of Christ.
But so much stress is laid in Jewish writings on the duty
of fully rehearsing at the Paschal Supper the circumstances
of the first Passover and the deliverance connected with it,
that we can scarcely doubt that what the Mishnah declares
as so essential, formed part of the services of that night.
And as we think of our Lord's comment on the Passover
and Israel's deliverance, the words spoken when the un
leavened cake was broken come back to us, and with deeper
meaning attaching to them.
After this the cup is elevated, and then the service pro
ceeds somewhat lengthily, the cup being raised a second time
and certain prayers spoken. This part of the service con-
¦ Ps. cxiu. to eludes with the two first Psalms in the series called
cxvia. 'The Hallel,'a when the cup is raised a third

550 Jesus the Messiah
time, a prayer spoken, and the cup drunk. This ends
the first part of the service. And now the Paschal meal
begins by all washing their hands — a part of the ritual
which we scarcely think Christ observed. It was, we
believe, during this lengthened exposition and service
that the ' trouble in spirit ' of which St. John speaks a
• st John passed over the soul of the God-Man. Almost
xiu. 21 presumptuous as it seems to inquire into its
immediate cause, we can scarcely doubt that it concerned
not so much Himself as them. It was the beginning of
the hour of Christ's utmost loneliness, of which the climax
was reached in Gethsemane. And in the trouble of His
Spirit did He solemnly ' testify ' to them of the near
Betrayal. We wonder not that they all became exceeding
sorrowful, and each asked, ' Lord, is it I ? '
The answer of Christ left the special person undeter
mined, while it again repeated the awful prediction — shall
we not add, the nu^o solemn warning ? — that it was one
of those who took part in the Supper. It is at this point
b that St. John resumes the thread of the narrative.b
As he describes it, the disciples were looking one
on another, doubting of whom He spake. In this suspense
Peter beckoned from across the table to John, whose head,
instead of leaning on his hand, rested in the absolute
surrender of love and intimacy born of sorrow on the
bosom of the Master. Peter would have John ask of
whom Jesus spake. And to the whispered question of
John, ' leaning back as he was on Jesus' Breast,' the Lord
gave the sign, that it was he to whom He would give ' the
sop ' when He had dipped it. Even this perhaps was not
clear to John, since each one in turn received ' the sop.'
We have direct testimony that, about the time of
Christ, ' the sop ' which was handed round consisted of
these things wrapped together : flesh of the Paschal Lamb,
a piece of unleavened bread, an'd bitter herbs. This, we
believe, was ' the sop,' which Jesus, having dipped it for
him in the dish, handed first to Judas, as occupying the
first and chief place at Table. But before He did so,
probably while He dipped it in the dish, Judas, who could

Departure of Jesus 551
not but fear that his purpose might be known, reclining
at Christ's left Hand, whispered into the Master's Ear, ' Is
it I, Rabbi ? ' It must have been whispered, for no one at
the Table could have heard either the question of Judas or
» st. John the affirmative answer of Christ.3 It was the last
xut 28 outgoing of the pitying love of Christ after the
traitor. It must have been in a paroxysm of mental mania,
when all feeling was turned to stone, and self-delusion was
combined with moral perversion, that Judas ' took ' from
the Hand of Jesus ' the sop.' That moment Satan entered
again into his heart. But the deed was virtually done;
and Jesus, longing for the quiet fellowship of His own with
all that was to follow, bade him do quickly that he did.
From the meal scarcely begun Judas rushed into the
night. None there knew why this strange haste, unless
from obedience to something that the Master had bidden
him. Even John could scarcely have, understood the sign
which Christ had given of the traitor. Some of them
thought he had been directed by the words of Christ to
purchase what was needful for the feast ; others, that he
was bidden go and give something to the poor. It must
have been specially necessary to make preparations for
the offering of the Chagigah, or festive sacrifice, when, as
in this instance, the first festive day, or 15th Nisan, was to
be followed by a Snbbath, on which no such work was per
mitted. It would be quite natural too that the poor, who
gathered around the Temple, might then seek to obtain
the help of the charitable.
The departure of the betrayer seemed to clear the
atmosphere. He was gone to do his work ; but let it
not be thought that it was the necessity of that betrayal
which was the cause of Christ's suffering of soul. He
offered Himself willingly — and though it was brought
about through the treachery of Judas, yet it was Jesus
Himself Who freely brought Himself a Sacrifice, in ful
filment of the work which the Father had given Him.
All the more did He realise and express this on the
departure of Judas. And this voluntary sacrificial as
pect i£ further' clearly indicated by His selection of the

552 Jesus the Messiah
terms ' Son of Man ' and ' God ' instead of ' Son ' and
» st John ' father.' a ' Now is glorified the Son of Man, and
God is glorified in Him. And God shall glorify
Him in Himself, and straightway shall He glorify Him.'
If the first of these sentences expressed the meaning of
what was about to take place, as exhibiting the utmost
glory of the Son of Man in the triumph of the obedience
of His Voluntary Sacrifice, the second sentence pointed
out its acknowledgment by God : the exaltation which
followed the humiliation — the Crown after the Cross.
Thus far for one aspect of what was about to be en
acted. As for the other — that which concerned the dis
ciples : only a little while would He still be with them.
Then would come the time of sad and sore perplexity —
when they would seek Him, but could not come whither
He had gone — during the terrible hours between His
Crucifixion and His manifested Resurrection. With re
ference to that period especially, but in general to the
whole time of His Separation from the Church on earth,
the great commandment, the bond which alone would hold
them together, was that of love one to another, and such
• st John love as that which He had shown towards them.a
xiu. 31-35 ^g recorrled by St. John, the words of the Lord
were succeeded by a question of Peter, indicating perplexity
as to the primary and direct meaning of Christ's going away.
On this followed Christ's reply about the impossibility of
Peter's now sharing his Lord's way of Passion, and, in
answer to the disciple's impetuous assurance of his readi
ness to follow the Master not only into peril, but to lay
down his life for Him, the Lord's indication of Peter's
present unpreparedness and the prediction of his impend
ing denial. It may have been that all this occurred in
the Supper-Chamber and at the time indicated by St. John.
But it is also recorded by the Synoptists as on the way to
Gethsemane, and in what we may term a more natural
connection. Its consideration will therefore be best re
served till we reach that stage of the history.
We how approach the most solemn part of that night :
The Institution of the Lord's Supper.

The Institution of the Lord's Supper 553
If we ask ourselves at what part of the Paschal Supper
the new Institution was made, we cannot doubt that it
» st. Matt was before the Supper was completely ended."
stTMark' We have seen that Judas had left the Table at
xiv.22 the beginning of the Supper. The meal con
tinued amidst such conversation as has already been noted.
According to the Jewish ritual, the third cup was filled at
»icorx.i6 tne c^ose °f ''he Supper. This was called, as by
St. Paul,b ' the Cup of Blessing,' partly, because
a special 'blessing' was pronounced over it. It is de
scribed as one of the ten essential rites in the Paschal
Supper. Next, ' grace after meat ' was spoken. On this
we need not dwell, nor yet on ' the washing of hands '
that followed. But we can have little doubt that the
Institution of the Cup was in connection with this third
' Cup of Blessing.' If we are asked what part of the
Paschal Service corresponds to the ' Breaking of Bread,'
we answer, that this being really the last Pascha, and the
cessation of it, our Lord anticipated the later rite, intro
duced when, with the destruction of the Temple, the
Paschal as all other Sacrifices ceased. While the Paschal
Lamb was still offered, it was the Law that, after partak
ing of its flesh, nothing else should be eaten. But since
the Paschal Lamb has ceased, it is the custom after the
meal to break and partake, as ' after-dish,' of that half of
the unleavened cake, which, as will be remembered, had
been broken and put aside at the beginning of the Supper.
The Paschal Sacrifice having now really ceased, Christ
anticipated this, and connected with the breaking of the
Unleavened Cake at the close of the Meal the Institution
of the breaking of Bread in the Holy Eucharist.
What did the Institution really mean, and what does
it mean to us ? We cannot believe that it was intended
as merely a sign for remembrance of His Death. Such
remembrance is often equally vivid in ordinary acts of
faith or prayer ; and it seems difficult, if no more than
this had been intended, to account for the Institution of
a special Sacrament, and that with such solemnity, and as
the second great rite of the Church— that for its nourish-

554 Jesus the Messiah
ment. Again, if it were a mere token of remembrance,
why the Cup as well as the Bread ? If we may venture
an explanation, it would be that ' this,' received in the
Holy Eucharist, conveys to the soul as regards the Body
and Blood of the Lord, the same effect as the Bread and
the Wine to the body — receiving of the Bread and the
Cup in the Holy Communion is, really, though spiritually,
to the Soul what the outward elements are to the Body :
that they are both the symbol and the vehicle of true in
ward, spiritual feeding on the Very Body and Blood of
Christ. So is this Cup which we bless fellowship of His
Blood, and the Bread we break of His Body — fellowship
with Him Who died for us, and in His dying ; fellowship
also in Him with one another, who are joined together
in this, that for us this Body was given, and for the re
mission of our sins this precious Blood was shed.
Most mysterious words these, yet ' he who takes from
us our mystery takes from us our Sacrament.' ' And ever
since has this blessed Institution been not only the seal of
His Presence and its pledge, but also the promise of His
Coming. ' For as often as we eat this Bread and drink
this Cup, we do show forth the Death of the Lord ' — for
the life of the world, to be assuredly yet manifested — ' till
He come.' ' Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly ! '

CHAPTER LXXXI.
THE LAST DISCOURSES OF CHRIST— THE PRAYER OF
CONSECRATION.
(St. John xiv. ; xv. ; xvi. ; xvii.)
The new Institution of the Lord's Supper did not finally
close what passed at that Paschal Table. According to
the Jewish ritual the Cup is filled a fourth time, and the
¦ ps. cxv.- remaining part of the Hallel a repeated. Then
cxviii. follow, besides Ps. cxxxvi., a number of prayers
1 The words are a hitherto imprinted utterance on this subject by
the late Prof. J. Duncan, of Edinburgh.

The Last Discourses of Christ 555
and hymns, of comparatively late origin. The same remark
applies to what follows after the fourth Cup. But, so far
as we can judge, the Institution of the Holy Supper was
followed by the Discourse recorded in St. John xiv. Then
tt the concluding Psalms of the Hallel were sung,a
xxvi. 30 ;' after which the Master left the ' upper chamber.'
st Mark rpke Discourge of Christ recorded in St. John xvi.,
t st John and His prayer ,b were certainly uttered after they
' st. John bad risen from the Supper, and before they crossed
the brook Kidron.0 In all probability they
were, however, spoken before the Saviour left the house.
We can scarcely imagine such a Discourse, and still less
such a Prayer, to have been uttered while traversing the
narrow streets of Jerusalem on the way to Kidron.
1. In any case there cannot be doubt that the first
iBecordea Discourse4 was spoken while still at the Supper-
in st. John Table. If so, it may be arranged under these
* vv. 1-4 four particulars : explanatory and corrective ; a
s^-'. 1.5^24 explanatory and teaching ;f hortatory and pro-
i>w. 24-31 missory ; e promissory and consolatory. h Thus
there is constant and connected progress, the two great
elements in the discourse being teaching and comfort.
At the outset we ought, perhaps, to remember the very
common Jewish idea, that those in glory occupied different
abodes, corresponding to their ranks. If the words of
Christ, about the place whither they could not follow Him,
had awakened any such thoughts, the explanation which
He now gave must effectually have dispelled them. Let
not their hearts, then, be troubled at the prospect. As
they believed in God, so let them also have trust in Him.
It was His Father's House of which they were thinking,
and although there were 'many mansions,' or rather
' stations,' in it — and the choice of this word may teach us
something — yet they were all in that one House. Could
they not trust Him in this ? Surely, if it had been other
wise, He would have told them, and not left them to be
bitterly disappointed in the end. Indeed, the object of
His going was the opposite of what they feared : it was to
prepare by His Death and Resurrection a place for them.

556 Jesus the Messiah
Nor let them think that His going away would imply a
permanent separation, because He had said that they could
not follow Him thither. Rather did His going, not away,
but to prepare a place for them, imply His coming again,
primarily as regarded individuals at death, and secondarily
as regarded the Church — that He might receive them unto
Himself, there to be with Him. ' And whither I go, ye
¦ stjohn know the way.' a
xiv "-* Jesus had referred to His going to the
Father's House, and implied that they knew the way which
would bring them thither also. But how could they find
their way thither ? If any Jewish ideas of the disappear
ance and the final manifestation of the Messiah lurked
beneath the question of Thomas, the answer of the Lord
placed the matter in the clearest light. He had spoken
of the Father's House of many ' stations,' but only one
road led thither. They must all know it : it was that of
personal apprehension of Christ in the life, the mind, and
the heart. Except through Him, no man could consciously
come to the Father. Thomas had put his twofold question
thus : What was the goal ? and, what was the way to it ?
In His answer Christ significantly reversed this order, and
told them first what was the way — Himself; and then what
Was the goal.
But once more appeared in the words of Philip that
carnal literalising, which would take the words of Christ
in only an external sense.b Sayings like these help
us to perceive the absolute need of another Teacher,
the Holy Spirit. Philip understood the words of Christ as
if He held out the possibility of an actual sight of the
Father ; and this, as they imagined, would for ever have
put an' end to all their doubts and fears. In His reply
Jesus once more returned to this truth, that the vision,
which was that of faith alone, was spiritual, and in no way
external ; and that this manifestation had been, and was
fully in Him. Or did Philip not believe that the Father
was really manifested in Christ, because he did not actually
behold Him ? Those words which had drawn them and
made them feel that heaven was so near, they were not His

The Last Discourses of Christ 557
own, but the message which He had brought them from
the Father ; those works which He had done, they were
the manifestation of the Father's ' dwelling ' in Him. Let
them then believe this vital union between the Father and
Him — and, if their faith could not absolutely rise to that
height, let it at least rest on the lower level of the evidence
of His works. Yea, and if they were ever tempted to
doubt His works, faith might have evidence of them in
personal experience. Primarily, no doubt, the words a
» st. John about the greater works which they who believed
xiv. 12 jn jrjm would do, because He went to the Father,
refer to the Apostolic preaching and working in its greater
results after the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. To this
also must primarily refer the promise of unlimited answer
to prayer in His Name.b But in a secondary
' ' sense, both these promises have, ever since the
Ascension of Christ, also applied both to the Church and
to all individual Christians,
And for such faith, which compasseth all things in the
obedience of love to Christ, and can attain all by the prayer
¦of faith in His Name, there will be a need of Divine Pre
sence ever with them.c While He had been with
• ver. 16 them, they had had one Paraclete, or 'Advocate,'
Who had pleaded with them the cause of God, explained
and advocated the truth, and guarded and guided them.
Now that His outward Presence was to be withdrawn from
earth, and He was to be their Paraclete or Advocate in
Heaven with the Father,"1 He would, as His first act
n. 1 0£ adyocacy, pray the Father, Who would send
them another Paraclete or Advocate, Who would continue
with them for ever. To the guidance and pleadings of that
Advocate they could implicitly trust themselves, for He
was ' the Spirit of Truth.' The world, indeed, would not
listen to His pleadings, nor accept Him as their Guide, for
the only evidence by which they judged was that of outward
sight and material results. But they would know the reality
of His Existence and the truth of His pleadings by the
continual presence with them as a body of this Paraclete,
and by His dwelling in them individually.

558 Jesus the Messiah
In view of this promised Advent of the other Advocate,
Christ could tell the disciples that He would not leave them
' orphans ' in this world. Nay, in this Advocate Christ
Himself came to them. On that day of the Advent of His
Holy Spirit would they have full knowledge, because ex
perience, of the Christ's Return to the Father, and of their
own being in Christ, and of His being in them. And, as
regarded this threefold relationship, this must be ever kept
in view : to be in Christ meant to love Him, and this was
to have and to keep His commandments ; Christ's being in
the Father implied that they who were in Christ or loved
» st. John Him would be loved also of His Father ; and,
xiv. 20, 21 lastly, Christ's being in them implied that He
would love them and manifest Himself to them.a
One outstanding novel fact here arrested the attention
of the disciples. It was contrary to all their Jewish ideas
about the future manifestation of the Messiah, and it led to
the question of one of their number, Judas — not Iscariot :
' Lord, what has happened, that to us Thou wilt manifest
Thyself, and not to the world ? ' Again they thought >of
an outward, while He spoke of a spiritual and inward mani
festation. It was of this coming of the Son and the Father
for the purpose of making ' station ' with them that He
spoke, of which the condition was love to Christ, manifested
in the keeping of His Word, and which secured the love of
the Father also. On the other hand, not to keep His
Word was not to love Him, with all that it involved, not
only as regarded the Son, but also the Father,
since the Word which they heard was the'Father's.b
All this He could say to them now in the Father's
Name — as the first Representative, Pleader, and ' Advocate '
or Paraclete. But what, when He was no longer present
with them ? For that He had provided ' another Paraclete,'
Advocate, or Pleader. This 'Paraclete, the Holy Spirit,
Whom the Father will send in My Name, that same will
teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all
things that I said to you.' Christ came in the Name of
the Father, as the first Paraclete, as His Representative ;
the Holy Spirit comes in the Name of Christ, as the second

The Last Discourses of Christ 559
Paraclete, the Representative of Christ, Who is in the
Father. And so at the end of this Discourse the Lord returned
again, and now with fuller meaning, to its beginning.
Then He had said : ' Let not your heart be troubled ; ye
believe in God, believe also in Me.' Now, after the fuller
communication of His purpose, and of their relation to
Him, He could convey to them the assurance of peace,
even His own peace, as His gift in the present, and His
» st John legacy for the future.3 In their hearing, the
nT- 27 fact of His going away, which had filled them
with such sorrow and fear, had now been conjoined with
that of His Coming to them. Therefore if, discarding
thoughts of themselves, they had only given room to
feelings of true love to Him, instead of mourning they
would have rejoiced because He went to the Father, with
all that this implied, not only of rest and triumph to Him,
but of the perfecting of His Work — since this was the
condition of that Mission of the Holy Ghost by the Father,
Who sent both the Son and the Holy Spirit. And in this
sense also should they have rejoiced, because, through the
presence of the Holy Ghost in them, as sent by the
Father in His ' greater ' work, they would, instead of the
present selfish enjoyment of Christ's Personal Presence,
have the more power of showing their love to Him in
apprehending His Truth, obeying His Commandments,
doing His Works, and participating in His Life. Not
that Christ expected them to understand the full meaning
of all these words. But afterwards, when it had
ver- 29 all come to pass, they would believe.b
With the meaning and the issue of the great contest
on which He was about to enter thus clearly before Him,
did He now go forth to meet the last assault of the ' Prince
of this World.'0 But why that fierce struggle,
» ver. 30 sjnce in Christ ' he hath nothing ' ? To exhibit
to 'the world ' the perfect love which He had to the Father;
how even to the utmost of self-exinanition, obedience, sub
mission, and suffering He was doing as the Father had given
Him commandment, when He sent Him for the redemption

$60 Jesus the Messiah
of the world. And so might the world be won from its
Prince by the full manifestation of Christ, in His infinite
obedience and righteousness, doing the Will of the Father
» st John an,l the Work which He had given Him, and in
xiv. 31 jjjg infinite love doing the work of our salvation.*-
2. The work of our salvation ! To this aspect of the
subject Christ now addressed Himself, as He rose from the
Supper-Table. If in the Discourse recorded in the four
teenth chapter of St. John's Gospel the Godward aspect of
Christ's impending departure was explained, in that of the
fifteenth chapter the new relation is set forth which was to
subsist between Him and His Church. And this may be
summarised in these three words : Union, Communion,
Disunion. The Union between Christ and His Church is
corporate, vital, and effective, alike as regards results and
blessings.6 This Union issues in Communion — ¦
of Christ with His disciples, of His disciples with
Him, and of His disciples among themselves. Lastly, this
Union and Communion had for their necessary counterpart
Disunion, separation from the world.
As regards the relation of the Church to the Christ
Who is about to depart to the Father, and to come to them
in the Holy' Ghost as His Representative, it is to be one of
Union — corporate, vital, and effective. In the nature of it,
such a truth could only be set forth by illustration. When
Christ said : ' I am the Vine, the true one, and My Father
is the Husbandman ; ' or again, ' Ye are the branches,' He
meant that He, the Father, and the disciples, stood in
exactly the same relationship as the Vine, the Husbandman,
and the branches. Nor can we forget, in this connection,
that in the Old Testament, and partially in Jewish thought,
the Vine was the symbol of Israel, not in their national but
in their Church capacity. There are many branches, yet
a grand unity in that Vine ; there is one Church of which
He is the Head, the Root, the Sustenance, the Life.
Yet, though it be one Vine, the Church must bear
fruit not only in her corporate capacity, but individually
in each of the branches. The branches that bear not fruit
must refer to those who have by Baptism been inserted

The Last Discourses of Christ 561
into the Vine, but remain fruitless — since a merely out
ward profession of Christ could scarcely be described as ' a
branch in ' Him. On the other hand, every fruit-bearing
branch the Husbandman ' cleanseth ' — in whatever manner
may be requisite— so that it may produce the largest
possible amount of fruit. As for them, the process of
cleansing had 'already' been accomplished through, or
because of [the meaning is much the same], the Word
which He had spoken unto them. The proper, normal
condition of every branch in that Vine was to bear much
fruit, of course, in proportion to its size and vigour. But,
both figuratively and really, the condition of this was to
abide in Him, since ' apart ' from Him they could do nothing.
And now as regarded the two alternatives : he that
abode not in Him was the branch ' cast outside ' and
withering, which, when ready for it, men would cast into
the fire — with all of symbolic meaning as regards the
gatherers and the burning that the illustration implies.
On the other hand, if the corporate and vital union was
effective, if they abode in Him, and, in consequence, His
Words abode in them, then : ' Whatsoever ye will ye
shall ask, and it shall be done to you.' It is very note
worthy that the unlimitedness of prayer is limited, or
rather conditioned, by our abiding in Christ and His
Words in us. For it were the most dangerous fanaticism,
and entirely opposed to the teaching of Christ, to imagine
that the promise of Christ implies such absolute power —
as if prayer were magic — that a person might ask for any
thing, no matter what it was, in the assurance of obtaining
his request. The believer may, indeed, ask for anything,
because he may always and absolutely go to God ; but the
certainty of special answers to prayer is proportionate- to
the degree of union and communion with Christ.
This union, being inward and moral, necessarily un
folds into communion, of which the principle is love.
' Like as the Father loved Me, even so loved I you. Abide
in My love. If ye keep My commandments, ye shall
abide in the love that is Mine.' This is connected, not
with sentiment nor even with faith, but with obedience. o o

562 Jesus the Messiah
In this, also, were they to have communion with Him :
communion in that joy which was His in consequence of
His perfect obedience. ' These things have I spoken to
you, in order that the joy that is Mine may be in you, and
your joy may be fulfilled [completed].'
But what of those commandments to which such im
portance attached ? Clean as they now were through the
Words which He had spoken, one great commandment
stood forth as specially His own, consecrated by His
example and to be measured by His observance of it:
the love of the Father in sending His Son for man, the
work of the Son in seeking and saving the lost at the
price of His Own Life, and the new bond which in Christ
bound them all in the fellowship of a common calling,
common mission, and common interests and hopes — love
of the brethren was the one outstanding Farewell-Command
¦ st. John °f Christ.3- And to keep His commandments
xv. 12-14 was to be His friend. And they were His
friends. ' No longer' did He call them servants, for the
servant knew not what his lord did. He had now given
them a new name, and with good reason : ' You have I
called friends, because all things which I heard of My
Father I made known to you.' ' Not you did choose Me,
but I did choose you ' — the object of His '-choosing' [that
to which they were ' appointed '] being that, as they went
forth into the world, they should bear fruit, that their
fruit should be permanent, and that they should possess
the full privilege of that unlimited power to pray
of which He had previously spoken.b
But this very choice on His part, and their union of
love in Him and to one another, also implied not only
• ver is separation from, but repudiation by, the world.0
For this they must be prepared. It had come
to Him, and it would be evidence of their choice to dis
cipleship. For evil or for good, they must expect the
same treatment as their Master ; and should they not al so
remember that the ultimate ground of the world's hatred
aTV 19_21 was ignorance of Him Who had sent Christ ? d
And yet, though this should banish all thoughts

The Last Discourses of Christ 563
of personal resentment, they who rejected Him were
guilty, since : ' He that hateth Me, hateth My Father
also.' For there was, besides the evidence of His Words,
* st. John that of His Works." If they could not apprehend
xv. 22-24 tne former, yet, in regard to the latter, they
could see by comparison with the works of other men that
they were unique. They saw it, but only hated Him and
His Father, ascribing all to the power and agency of
Beelzebul. And so the ancient prophecy had now been'
b Ps, jxxt. fulfilled : ' They hated Me gratuitously.' b But
19 ; ixix. 4 all was not yet at an end : neither His Work
through the other Advocate, nor yet theirs in the world.
' When the Advocate is come, Whom I will send to you
from the Father — the Spirit of the Truth — Who pro-
ceedeth from the Father [goeth forth on His Mission as
sent by the Father], this Same will bear witness about Me.
And ye also bear witness, because ye are with Me from
the beginning.'
8. The last of the parting Discourses of Christ, in the
sixteenth chapter of St. John, was interrupted by ques
tions from the disciples. But these, being germane to the
subject, carry it only forward.
The chapter appropriately opens by reflecting on the
• st John predicted enmity of the world.0 Christ had so
xvi. clearly foretold it, lest this should prove a
stumbling-block to them. Best to know distinctly that
they would not only be put out of the Synagogue, but
that everyone who killed them would deem it ' to offer a
religious service to God.' Indeed, according to Jewish
Law, ' a zealot ' might have slain without formal trial
those caught in flagrant rebellion against God — or in
what might be regarded as such, and the Synagogue
would have deemed the deed as meritorious as that of
Phinehas. This spirit of enmity arose from ignorance of
the Father and of Christ. Although they had in a general
way been prepared for it before, yet He had not told it all
so definitely and connectedly from the beginning, because
He was still there.d But now that He was going
aw. 1-1 away, it was absolutely necessary to do so. For
o o 2

564 Jesus the Messiah
the very mention of it had thrown them into such con
fusion of personal sorrow, that the main point, whither
Christ was going, had not even emerged into their
. st John view.3-
xvi.' 5 But the Advent of the ' Advocate ' would mark
„ . a new era, as regarded the Church b and the
world. It was their Mission to go forth into the
world and to preach Christ. That other Advocate, as the
' Representative of Christ, would go into the world and con
vict on the three cardinal points on which their preaching
turned. These three points, on which all Missioning pro
ceeds, are — Sin, Righteousness, and Judgment.
Quite other was that cause of Christ which, as His
Advocate, He would plead with the disciples, and quite
other in their case the effect of His advocacy. Not speak
ing from Himself, but speaking whatsoever He shall hear
— as it were, according to His heavenly ' brief — He would
guide them into all truth. And here His first ' decla
ration' would be of 'the things that are coming.'- As
Christ's Representative, the Holy Spirit would be with
them, not suffer them to go astray into error or wrong, but
be their ' wayleader ' into all truth. Further, as the Son
glorified the Father, so would the Spirit glorify the Son,
and in analogous manner — because He shall take of His
and 'declare'" it unto them. And this work of the Holy
Spirit, sent by the Father, in His declaration about Christ,
was explained by the circumstance of the union and com
munication between the Father and Christ.0 And
° VT' 8"15 so — to sum up, in one brief Farewell, all that He
had said to them — there would be ' a little while ' in which
they would not 'behold' Him, and again a little while and
they would ' see ' Him, though in quite different
ver' 6 manner, as even the wording shows.4
On that day of joy would He have them dwell in
thought during their present night of sorrow. That would
be, indeed, a day in which there would be no need of
e ver. 23, their making further inquiry of Him.e All would
comp. ver. 19 then be clear in the new light of the Resurrec
tion. A day this, when whatsoever they asked the Father

The Last Discourses of Christ 565
He would give it them in Christ's Name. Hitherto they
had not yet asked in His Name ; let them ask : they would
receive, and so their joy be completed. Hitherto He had
only been able to speak to them, as it were, in parables
and allegory, but then would He ' declare ' to them in all
plainness about the Father. And as He would be able to
speak to them directly and plainly about the Father, So
would they then be able to speak directly to the Father —
as the Epistle to the Hebrews expresses it, come with
' plainness ' or ' directness ' to the throne of grace. They
would ask directly in the Name of Christ ; and no longer
would it be needful, as at present, first to come to Him
that He may ' inquire* of the Father ' about ' them. For
God loved them as lovers of Christ, and as recognising thatt
He had come forth from God. And so it was — He had
come forth from out the Father when He came into the
world, and now that He was leaving it, Hfe was going to
the Father.
The disciples imagined that they understood this. Christ
had read their perplexed inquiry among themselves as to the
» st. John meaning of the twofold ' little while,' and there was
*"¦ 30 no need for anyone to put express questions.3. He
knew all things, and by this they believed — it afforded them
evidence — that He came forth from God. But how little did
they know their own hearts ! The hour had even come
when they would be scattered, every man to his own home,
and leave Him alone — yet, truly, He would not be alone,
»ver. 32 because the Father would be with Him.b Even
so, His thought, as before,0 was of them ; and
• xiv.i through the night of scattering and of sorrow did
He bid them look to the morning of joy. For the battle was
not theirs, nor yet the victory doubtful : ' I [emphatically]
« xvi 33 have overcome [it is accomplished] the world.' d
• st John We now en*er most reverently what may be
*vu. called the innermost Sanctuary.e For the first
time we are allowed to listen to what was really ' the Lord's
Prayer,' and, as we hear, we humbly worship. That prayer
was the great preparation for His Agony, Cross, and Pas
sion ; and also, the outlook on the Crown beyond.

566 Jesus the Messiah
The first part of that prayer a is the consecration of
• st John Himself by the Great High-Priest. The final
xvn. 1-5 hour had come. In praying that the Father
would glorify the Son, He was not asking anything for
Himself, but that ' the Son ' might ' glorify ' the Father.
It was really in accordance (' even as ') with the power or
authority which the Father gave Him over 'all flesh,' when
He put all things under His Feet as the Messiah — the
object of this Messianic Rule being, ' that the totality '
(the all) ' that Thou hast given Him, He should give to
them eternal life.' In what follows b we must
remember that, as regards the substance, we have
here Christ's own Prayer for eternal life for each of His
own people. And what constitutes ' the eternal life ' ? It
is the realisation of what Christ had told them in these
words : 'Ye believe in God, believe also in Me.' Return
ing from this explanation of ' the eternal life,' the Great
High-Priest first offered up to the Father that part of His
Work which was on earth and which He had completed.
And then, both as the consummation and the sequel of it,
He claimed what was at the end of His Mission : His
return to that fellowship of essential glory which He
• w.4 s possessed together with the Father before the
world was.0
And now again His thought was of them for whose
sake He had consecrated Himself. These He now solemnly
presented to the Father.4 He introduced them
VT-6~10 as those (the individuals) whom the Father had
specially given to Him out of the world. As such they
were really the Father's, and given over to Christ — and
He now brought them in prayer before God.e
'' 9"12 He was interceding, not for the ' world ' that was
His by right of His Messiahship, but for them whom the
Father had specially given Him. Therefore, although all
the world was the Son's, He prayed not now for it; and
although all in earth and heaven were in the Father's
Hand, He sought not now His blessing on them, but on
those whom, while He was in the world, He had shielded
and guided. They were to be left behind in a world of

The Prayer of Consecration $67
sin, evil, temptation, and sorrow, and He was going to
the Father. And this was His Prayer : ' Holy Father,
keep them in Thy Name which Thou hast given Me, that
so (in order that) they may be one (a unity), as We are.'
The peculiar address, ' Holy Father,' shows that the
Saviour once more referred to the keeping in holiness,
and, what is of equal importance, that ' the unity ' of the
Church sought for was to be primarily one of spiritual
character, and not a merely outward combination-
While He was ' with them,' He ' kept ' them in the
Father's Name. But ere He went to the Father, He
prayed thus for them, that in this realised unity of holiness
• stjohn the joy that was His might be 'completed'
xvu. 13 in them.a And there was the more need of this
since they were left behind with nought but His Word, in
a world that hated them, because, as Christ, so they also
were not of it [' from ' it]. Nor yet did Christ ask with a
view to their being taken out of the world, but with this,
' that ' [in order that] the Father should ' keep them [pre
serve] from the Evil One.' And the preservative which
He sought for them was not outward but inward, the
same in kind as while He had been with them,b
Ter- ** only coming now directly from the Father. It
was sanctification ' in the truth,' with this significant
. „,, addition : ' The word that is Thine is truth.' °
° W. 12-17 .
In its last part this intercessory Prayer of
the Great High-Priest bore on the work of the disciples
and its fruits. As the Father had sent the Son, so did
the Son send the disciples into the world — in the same
manner, and on the same Mission. And for their sakes
He now solemnly offered Himself, ' consecrated ' or ' sancti
fied ' Himself, that they might ' in truth ' be consecrated.
And in view of this their work, to which they were con
secrated, did Christ pray not for them alone, but also for
those who through their word would believe in Him, ' in
order,' or ' that so,' ' all may be one ' — form a unity.
Christ, as sent by the Father, gathered out the original
' unity ; ' they, as sent by Him, and consecrated by His
consecration, were to gather others, but all were to form

568 Jesus the Messiah
one great unity, through the common spiritual communi
cation. ' As Thou in Me, and I also in Thee, so that [in
order that] they also may be in Us, so that [in order that]
the world may believe that Thou didst send Me.' ' And
the glory that Thou hast given Me' — referring to His
Mission in the world, and His setting apart and authorisa
tion for it — ' I have given to them, so that [in order that]
[in this respect also] they may be one, even as We are One
[a unity]. I in them, and Thou in Me, so that they may
be perfected into One ' — the ideal unity and real character
of the Church, this — ' so that the world may know that
Thou didst send Me, and lovedst them as Thou lovedst Me.'
After this sublime consecration of His Church, and
communication to her of His glory as well as of His Work,
we cannot marvel at what follows and concludes ' the
¦ st John Lord's Prayer.' a ' That which Thou hast given
xva. 24-26 ]^e> j wjij that, where I am, they also may be
with Me — so that they may gaze [behold] on the glory
that is Mine, which Thou hast given Me [be sharers in the
Messianic glory] : because Thou lovedst Me before the
foundation of the world.'
And we all would fain place ourselves in the shadow of
this final consecration of Himself and of His Church by
the Great High-Priest; which is alike final appeal, claim,
and prayer : ' 0 Righteous Father, the world knew Thee
not, but I know Thee, and these know that Thou sentest
Me. And I made known unto them Thy Name, and will
make it known, so that [in order that] the love wherewith
Thou lovedst Me may be in them, and I in them.'

CHAPTER LXXXII.
GETHSEMANE.

(St. Matt. xxvi. 30-56 ; St. Mark xiv. 26-52 ; St. Luke xxii. 31-53 ;
St. John xviii. 1-11.)
We turn once more to follow the steps of Christ, now
among the last He trod upon earth. The 'hymn,'
with which the Paschal Supper ended, had been sung.

Gethsemane 569
Probably we are to understand this of the second portion
*Ps. cxv.to °f the Hallel,* sung some time after the third
cxvui. Cup, or else of Psalm cxxxvi., which, in the
present ritual, stands near the end of the service. The
last Discourses had been spoken, the last Prayer, that of
Consecration, had been offered, and Jesus prepared to go
forth out of the City, to the Mount of Olives.
Passing out by the gate north of the Temple, we
descend into a lonely part of the valley of black Kidron,
at that season swelled into a winter torrent. Crossing it
we turn somewhat to the left, where the road leads towards
Olivet. Not many steps farther (beyond, and on the
other side of the present Church of the Sepulchre of the
Virgin) we turn aside from the road to the right, and reach
what tradition has since earliest times — and probably
correctly — pointed out as ' Gethsemane,' the ' oil-press.'
It was a small property enclosed, ' a garden ' in the Eastern
sense, where probably, amidst a variety of fruit trees and
flowering shrubs, was a quiet summer-retreat, connected
with, or near by, the 'olive-press.' The present Geth
semane is only some seventy steps square, and though its
old gnarled olives cannot be those (if such there were) of
the time of Jesus, since all trees in that valley — those also
which stretched their shadows over Jesus — were hewn
down in the Roman siege, they may have sprung from the
old roots, or from the old kernels. But we love to think
of this ' Garden ' as the place where Jesus ' often ' — not
merely on this occasion, but perhaps on previous visits to
Jerusalem — gathered with His disciples. And as such it
was known to Judas, and thither he led the armed band,
when they found the ' upper chamber' no longer occupied
by Jesus and His disciples.
It was, we imagine, after they had left the City behind
them, that the Lord addressed Himself first to the disciples
generally. We can scarcely call it either prediction or
warning. To them He would that night be even a
stumbling-block. And so had it been foretold of old,b
tzeoh. that the Shepherd would be smitten, and the
x"1-7 sheep scattered. Did this prophecy of His

570 Jesus the Messiah
suffering, in its grand outlines, fill the mind of the
Saviour as He went forth on His Passion ? A peculiar
significance also attaches to His prediction that, after He
. » „, t. was risen, He would go before them into Galilee."
• St. Matt . ' . o
xxvi. 32 ; st 1 or with their scattering upon Jbl is Death it
nT' seems to us the Apostolic circle or College, as
such, was for a time broken up. They continued, indeed,
to meet together as individual disciples, but the Apostolic
bond was temporarily dissolved. This ^plains many
things : the absence of Thomas on the first, and his
peculiar position on the second Sunday ; the uncertainty
of the disciples, as evidenced by the words of those on the
way to Emmaus ; as well as the seemingly strange move
ments of the Apostles — all which are quite changed when
the Apostolic bond is restored. Similarly, we mark that
only seven of them seem to have been together by the
» st. John Eake of Galilee,b and that only afterwards the
^i-2 Eleven met Him on the mountain to which He
«st Matt had directed them.0 It was here that the
xxvin. is Apostolic circle or College was once more re-
"w. 18-20 formed, and the Apostolic commission renewed,"1
and thence they returned to Jerusalem, once more
sent forth from Galilee, to await the final events of His
Ascension, and the Coming of the Holy Ghost.
But in that night they understood none of these things.
While all were staggering under the blow of their predicted
scattering, the Lord seems to have turned to Peter individu
ally. What He said, and how He put it, equally demand
« st. Luke our attention: ' Simon, Simon' e — using his old
XXIU 81 name when referring to the old man in him —
' Satan has obtained you, for the purpose of sifting like as
wheat. But I have made supplication for thee, that Jfny
faith fail not.'
The words admit us into two mysteries of b£aven.
Thi s night seems to have been ' the power of da/^nggg '
when, left of God, Christ had to meet by Hin:|seif the
whole assault of hell and to conquer in His own Strength
as Man's Substitute and Representative. Thex gecond
mystery of that night was Christ's supplication for i°eter.

Ge thsemane 5 7 1
We dare not say, as the High-Priest — and we know not
when and where it was offered. But the expression is very
strong, as of one who has need of a thing. And that for
which He made such supplication was, that Peter's faith
should not fail. To these words of His Christ added this
significant commission : ' And thou, when thou hast turned
again, confirm thy brethren.' And how fully he did this,
both in the Apostolic circle and in the Church, history has
chronicled. This, then, is the first fulfilment of Christ's
Prayer, that the Father would ' keep them from the Evil
»st. John One.'a Not by any process from without,but by
x™- 15 the preservation of their faith.
We can understand the vehement earnestness and
sincerity with which Peter protested against the possibility
of any failure on his part. We mostly deem those sins
farthest which are nearest to us ; else, much of the power
of their temptation would be gone, and temptation changed
into conflict. And when, to enforce the warning, Christ
predicted that before the repeated crowing of the cock
ushered in the morning, Peter would thrice deny that he
knew Him, Peter not only persisted in his asseverations,
but was joined in them by the rest. Yet — and this seems
the meaning and object of the words of Christ which follow
— they were not aware how terribly changed the former
relations had become, and what they would have to suffer
» st. Luke in consequence.11 When formerly He had sent
xxii. 35-38 them forth, both without provision and defence,
had they lacked anything ? No ! But now no helping
hand would be extended to them ; nay, what seemingly
they would need even more than anything else would be
' a sword ' — defence against attacks, for at the close of
His history He was reckoned with transgressors. But
once more they only understood Him in a grossly realistic
manner. These Galileans, after the custom of their
countrymen, had provided themselves with short swords,
which they concealed under their upper garment. Two of
them — among them Peter — now produced swords. But this
was not the time to reason with them, and our Lord simply
put it aside. Events would only too soon teach them.

572 Jesus the Messiah
They had now reached the entrance to Gethsemane: It
may have been that it led through the building with the
' oil-press,' and that the eight Apostles, who were not to
come nearer, were left there. Or they may have been
taken within the entrance of the Garden, and left there,
while, pointing forward with a gesture of the Hand, He
» st. Matt, went ' yonder ' and prayed." According to St.
xxvi. 36 Luke, He added the parting warning to pray
that they might not enter into temptation.
Eight did He leave there. The other three — Peter,
James, and John — companions before of His glory, both
»st Mark when He raised the daughter of J airusb and on the
1st Matt Mount of Transfiguration0 — He took with Him
STii l farther. If in that last contest His Human Soul
craved for the presence of those who stood nearest Him
and loved Him best, or if He would have them baptised
with His Baptism, and drink of His Cup, these were the
three of all others to be chosen. And now of a sudden
the cold flood broke over Him. Within these few moments
He had passed from the calm of assured victory into the
anguish of the contest. Increasingly with every step for
ward, He became ' sorrowful,' full of sorrow, ' sore amazed,'
and ' desolate.' He told them of the deep sorrow of His
Soul, even unto death, and bade them tarry there to watch
with Him. Himself went forward to enter the contest
with prayer. Only the first attitude of the wrestling
Saviour saw they, only the first words in that Hour of
Agony did they hear. For, as in our present state not
uncommonly in the deepest emotions of the soul, and as
had been the case on the Mount of Transfiguration, irre
sistible sleep crept over their frame. But what, we may
reverently ask, was the cause of this sorrow unto death
of the Lord Jesus ^hrist ? Not fear, either of bodily or
mental- suffering : but Death. Man's nature, created of
God immortal, shrinks (by the law of its nature) from the
dissolution of the bond that binds body to soul. Yet to
fallen man Death is not by any means fully Death, for he
is born with the taste of it. in his soul. Not so Christ. It
was the Unfallen Man dying; it was He, Who had no

Gethsemane 573
experience of it, tasting Death, and that not for Himself
but for every man, emptying the cup to its bitter dregs.
No one as He could know what Death was ; no one
could taste its bitterness as He. His going into Death
was His final conflict with Satan for man, and on his
behalf. By submitting to it He took away the power of
Death ; He disarmed Death by burying his shaft in His
own Heart.
Alone, as in His first conflict with the Evil One in the
Temptation in the wilderness, must the Saviour enter on
the last contest. Alone — and yet even this being ' parted
» st Luke from them ' a implied sorrow.b And now, ' on His
bco'ntj. knees,' prostrate on the ground, prostrate on His
Acts xxi. Face, began His Agony. His very address bears
witness to it. It is the only time, so far as recorded in
the Gospels, when He addressed God with the personal
• st Matt, pronoun : ' My Father.' ° The object of the prayer
alt Mark3 was that ' if it were possible, the hour might
xiT- 36 pass away from Him.' d The subject of the prayer
(as recorded by the three Gospels) was that the Cup itself
might pass away, yet always with the limitation, that not
His Will but the Father's might be done. The petition of
Christ, therefore, was subject not only to the Will of the
Father, but to His own Will that the Father's Will might
be done. It was in this extreme Agony of Soul almost unto
death, that the Angel appeared (as in the Temptation in
the wilderness) to ' strengthen ' and support His Body and
Soul. And so the conflict went on, with increasing earnest-
« st Matt ness of prayer, all that terrible hour.e For the
XXTi- 40 appearance of the Angel must have intimated to
Him that the Cup could not pass away. And at the close
of that hour His Sweat, mingled with Blood, fell in great
drops on the ground. And when the Saviour with this
mark of His Agony on His Brow returned to the three,
He found that deep sleep held them. His words, primarily
addressed to ' Simon,' roused them, yet not sufficiently to
fully carry to their hearts either the loving reproach, the
admonition to ' Watch and pray ' in view of the coming

574 Jesus the Messiah
temptation, or the most seasonable warning about the
weakness of the flesh, even where the spirit was willing,
ready, and ardent.
The conflict had been virtually, though not finally, de
cided, when the Saviour went back to the three sleeping
disciples. He now returned to complete it, though both
the attitude in which He prayed (no longer prostrate) and
the wording of His Prayer — only slightly altered as it was
— indicate how near it was to perfect victory. And once
more, on His return to them, He found that sleep had
weighted their eyes, and they scarce knew what answer to
make to Him. Yet a third time He left them to pray as
before. And now He returned victorious. After three
assaults had the Tempter left Him in the wilderness ; after
the threefold conflict in the Garden he was vanquished.
Christ came forth triumphant. No longer did He bid His
disciples watch. They might, nay they should, sleep and
take rest, ere the near events of His Betrayal — for the
hour had come when the Son of Man was to be betrayed
into the hands of sinners.
A very brief period of rest this, soon broken by the
call of Jesus to rise and go to where the other eight had
been left, at the entrance of the Garden — to go forward
and meet the band which was coming under the guidance
of the Betrayer. And while He was speaking, the heavy
tramp of many men and the light of lanterns and torches
indicated the approach of Judas and his band. During
the hours that had passed all had been prepared. When,
according to arrangement, he appeared at the High-Priestly
Palace, or more probably at that of Annas, who seems to
have had the direction of affairs, the Jewish leaders first
communicated with the Roman garrison. By their own
admission they had no longer (for forty years before the
destruction of Jerusalem) the power of pronouncing capi
tal sentence. The Sanhedrin, not possessing the power of
the sword, had, of course, neither soldiery, nor regularly
armed band at command. The 'Temple-guard' under
their officers served merely for purposes of police, and,
indeed, were neither regularly armed nor trained. Nor

GETHSEMANE 575
would the Romans have tolerated a regular armed Jewish
force in Jerusalem.
But in the fortress of Antonia, close to the Temple and
connected with it by two stairs, lay the Roman garrison.
During the Feast the Temple itself was guarded by an
armed cohort, consisting of from 400 to 600 men, so as to
prevent or quell any tumult among the numerous pilgrims.
It was to the captain of this ' cohort ' that the Chief
Priests and leaders of the Pharisees would, in the first
place, apply for an armed guard to effect the arrest of Jesus,
on the ground that it might lead to some popular tumult.
This, without necessarily having to state the charge that
was to be brought against Him, which might have led to
other complications. Although St. John speaks of 'the
band ' by a word which always designates a ' cohort,' yet
there is no. reason for believing that the whole cohort was
sent. Still, its commander would scarcely have sent a
strong detachment out of the Temple, and on what might
lead to a riot, without having first referred to the Procu
rator, Pontius Pilate. And if further evidence were re
quired, it would be in the fact that the band was led not
»st John by- a Centurion, but by a Chiliarch,a who, as
xviii 12 there were no intermediate grades in the Roman
army, must represent one of the six tribunes attached to
each legion. This also explains not only the apparent
preparedness of Pilate to sit in judgment early next morn
ing, but also how Pilate's wife may have been disposed for
those dreams about Jesus which so affrighted her.
This Roman detachment, armed with swords and ' staves '
— with the latter of which Pilate on other occasions also
directed his soldiers to attack them who raised a tumult —
was accompanied by servants from the High-Priest's Palace,
and other Jewish officers, to direct the arrest of Jesus.
They bore torches and lamps placed on the top of
bTer- 3 poles, so as to prevent any possible concealment.b
Having received this band, Judas proceeded on his
errand. As we believe, their first move was to the house
where the Supper had been celebrated. Learning that
Jesus had left it with His disciples, perhaps two or three

576 Jesus the Messiah
hours before, Judas next directed the band to the spot he
knew so well : to Gethsemane. A signal by which to
recognise Jesus seemed almost necessary with so large a
band, and where escape or resistance might be apprehended.
It was — terrible to say — none other than a kiss. As soon
as he had so marked Him, the guard were to seize and
lead Him safely away.
As the band reached the Garden, Judas went somewhat
• stLnke *n advance of them,a and reached Jesus just as
He had roused the three and was preparing to go
and meet His captors. He saluted Him, ' Hail, Rabbi,' so
as to be heard by the rest, and not only kissed but covered
Him with kisses. The Saviour submitted to the indignity,
» st Matt n0* stopping, but only saying as He passed on :
xxvi. 40 ; ' ' Friend, that for which thou art here ; ' b and
Mark xiv. 45 then, perhaps in answer to his questioning ges-
• st Luke ture : ' Judas, with a kiss deliverest thou up the
xxii. 48 Son of Man?'0
Then leaving the traitor, and ignoring the signal which
he had given them, Jesus advanced to the band, and asked
them : ' Whom seek ye ? ' To the brief spoken, perhaps
somewhat contemptuous, ' Jesus the Nazarene,' He replied
with infinite calmness: 'I am (He).' The immediate effect
of these words was, we will not say magical, but Divine.
They had no doubt been prepared for quite other ; either
compromise, fear, or resistance. But the appearance and
majesty of that calm Christ were too overpowering in their
effects on the untutored heathen soldiery, who perhaps
cherished in their hearts secret misgivings of the work
they had in hand. The foremost of them went backward,
and they fell to the ground. But Christ's hour had come.
And once more He now asked them the same question as
before, and on repeating their former answer, He said : ' I
told you that I am He ; if therefore ye seek Me, let these
go their way,' — the Evangelist seeing in this watchful care
over His own the initial fulfilment of the words which the
a st. John Lord had previously spoken concerning their safe
xvii. 12 preservation,0 not only in the sense of their out
ward preservation, but in that of their being guarded from

Gethsemane 577
such temptations as, in their then state, they could not
have endured.
The words of Christ about those that were with Him
seem to have recalled the leaders of the guard to full con
sciousness — perhaps awakened in them fears of a possible
rising at the incitement of His adherents. Accordingly,
» st Matt it is here that we insert the notice of St. Matthew,a
xxvi. 506 and of St. Mark,b that they laid hands on Jesus
»st Mark and took Him_ Tnen it wag tnat petOT}0 seeing
*st John what was coming, drew the sword which he car-
xvin. 11, 26 . .. .. . °7 . . _
ried, and putting the question to Jesus, but with
out awaiting His answer, struck at Malchus, the servant of
the High-Priest — perhaps the Jewish leader of the band —
cutting off his ear. But Jesus immediately restrained all
such violence ; nay, with it all merely outward zeal, point
ing to the fact how easily He might, as against this ' cohort,1
" st Mat- nave commanded Angelic legions.*1 He had in
thew wrestling Agony received from His Father that
«st John Cup to drink,8 and the Scriptures must in that
t wise be fulfilled. And so saying, He touched the
ear of Malchus, and healed him.f
But this faint appearance of resistance was enough for
est John *^e guar0^- Their leaders now bound Jesus. g It
was to this last, uncalled-for indignity that Jesus
replied by asking them, why they had come against Him
as against a robber — one of those wild, murderous Sicarii.
Had He not been all that week daily in the Temple, teach
ing ? Why not then seize Him ? But this ' hour ' of
theirs that had come, and ' the power of darkness ' — this
also had been foretold in Scripture !
And as the ranks of the armed men now closed around
the bound Christ, none dared to stay with Him, lest they
also should be bound as resisting authority. So they all
forsook Him and fled. But there was one there who joined
not in the flight, but remained, a deeply interested on
looker. When the soldiers had come to seek Jesus in the
upper chamber of his home, Mark, roused from sleep, had
hastily cast about him the loose linen garment or wrapper
that lay by his bedside, and followed the armed band to
P p

578 Jesus the Messiah
see what would come of it. He now lingered in the rear,
and followed as they led away Jesus, never imagining that
they would attempt to lay hold on him, since he had not
been with the disciples nor yet in the Garden. But they,
perhaps the Jewish servants of the High-Priest, had
noticed him. They attempted to lay hold on him ; when,
disengaging himself from their grasp, he left his upper
garment in their hands and fled.
So ended the first scene in the terrible drama of that
night. CHAPTER LXXXIII.
THURSDAY NIGHT — BEFOEE ANNAS AND CAIAPHAS —
PETER AND JESUS.
(St. John xviii. 12-14; St. Matt. xxvi. 57,68; St. Mark xiv. 63, 54;
St. Luke xxii. 54 55 ; St. John xviii. 24, 15-18, 19-23 ; St. Matt. xxvi.
69, 70 ; St. Mark xiv. 66-68 ; St. Luke xxii. 56, 67 ; St. John xviii.
17, 18 ; St. Matt. xxvi. 71, 72 ; St. Mark xiv. 69, 70 ; St. Luke xxii.
68 ; St. John xviii. 25 ; St. Matt. xxvi. 59-68 ; St. Mark xiv. 55-65 ;
St. Luke xxii. 67-71, 63-65 ; St. Matt. xxvi. 73-75 ; St. Mark xiv.
70-72 ; St. Luke xxii. 59-62 ; St. John xviii. 26, 27.)
It was not a long way that they led the bound Christ.
Probably through the same gate by which He had gone
forth with His disciples after the Paschal Supper, up to
where, on the slope between the Upper City and the
Tyropoeon, stood the well-known Palace of Annas.
If every incident • in that night were not of such
supreme interest, we might dismiss the question as almost
idle, why they brought Jesus to the house of Annas, since
he was not at that time the actual High-Priest. That
office now devolved on Caiaphas, his son-in-law, who, as
» st Jolm the Evangelist significantly reminds us,a had been
xvhi. 14 the first to enunciate in plain wrords what seemed
to him the political necessity for the judicial murder of
» xi so Christ.b He had spoken as the bold, unscrupu
lous, determined man that he was ; Sadducee in
heart rather than by conviction ; a worthy son-in-law of
Annas.

Before Annas 579
No figure is better known in contemporary Jewish
history than that of Annas ; no person deemed more
fortunate or successful, but none also more generally
execrated than the late High-Priest. He had held the
Pontificate for only six or seven years ; but it was filled
by not fewer than five of his sons, by his son-in-law
Caiaphas, and by a grandson. While these acted publicly,
he really directed affairs, without either the responsibility
or the restraints which the office imposed. His influence
with the Romans he owed to the religious views which he
professed, to his open partisanship of the foreigner, and to
his enormous wealth. The Sadducean Annas was an
eminently safe Churchman, not troubled with any special
convictions nor with Jewish fanaticism, a pleasant and a
useful man also, who was able to furnish his friends in. the
Praetorium with large sums of money. We have seen
what immense revenues the family of Annas must have
derived from the Temple-booths, and how nefarious and
unpopular was the traffic. The names of those licentious,
unscrupulous, degenerate sons of Aaron were spoken with
whispered curses. Without referring to Christ's inter
ference with that Temple-traffic, which, if His authority
had prevailed, would of course have been fatal to it, we
can understand how antithetic in every respect a Messiah,
and such a Messiah as Jesus, must have been to Annas.
He was as resolutely bent on His Death as his son-in-law,
though with his characteristic cunning and coolness, not
in the hasty, bluff manner of Caiaphas. It was probably
from a desire that Annas might have the conduct of the
business, or from the active, leading part which Annas
took in the matter ; perhaps for even more prosaic practical
reasons, such as that the Palace of Annas was nearer to
the place of Jesus' capture, and that it was desirable to
dismiss the Roman soldiery as quickly as possible — that
Christ was first brought to Annas, and not to the actual
High-Priest. In any case, the Roman soldiers had evidently orders
to bring Jesus to the late High-Priest.
We know absolutely nothing of what passed in the
p p 2

580 Jesus the Messiah
house of Annas — if, indeed, anything passed — except that
Annas sent Jesus bound to Caiaphas.
Of what occurred in the Palace of Caiaphas we have
¦ st. John two accounts. That of St. John a seems to refer
xviii. 19-23 to a more private interview between the High-
Priest and Christ, at which, apparently, only some per
sonal attendants of Caiaphas were present, from one of
whom the Apostle may have derived his information.
The second account is that of the Synoptists, and refers to
'st Luke the examination of Jesus at dawn of dayb by
^ii-66 the leading Sanhedrists, who had been hastily
summoned for the purpose.
The questions of Caiaphas bore on two points : the
disciples of Jesus, and His teaching — the former to in
criminate Christ's followers, the latter to incriminate the
Master. To the first inquiry it was only natural that
Jesus should not have condescended to return an answer.
The reply to the second was characterised by that ' open-
° st. John ness ' which He claimed for all that He had said.0
xviii. 20 if Caiaphas really wanted information, there
could be no difficulty in procuring witnesses to speak to
His doctrine : all Jewry knew it. He always spoke ' in
Synagogue and in the Temple, whither all the Jews
gather together.' If the inquiry were a fair one, let the
judge act judicially, and ask not Him, but those who had
heard Him.
It must be admitted that the answer sounds not like
that of one accused, who seeks either to make apology, or
even greatly cares to defend himself. It was this which
emboldened one of those servile attendants, with the
brutality of an Eastern in such circumstances, to strike the
Christ. We are almost thankful that the text leaves it in
doubt, whether it was with the palm of the hand, or the
lesser indignity — with a rod. In pursuance of His Human
submission, the Divine Sufferer, without murmuring or
complaining, and without asserting His Divine Power, only
answered in such tone of patient expostulation as must
have convicted the man of his wrong, or at least have left
him speechless.

Before Caiaphas 581
2. The Apostle John was no stranger in the Palace
of Caiaphas. We have already seen that, after the first
panic of Christ's sudden capture and their own flight, two of
the disciples at least, Peter and John, seem speedily to have
rallied. Combining the notices a we derive the
xxvi. 58 ; ' impression that Peter, so far true to his word,
^^a? had been the first to stop in his flight, and to
st Luke follow ' afar off.' If he reached the Palace of
xxii. 54, 55 . .
Annas m time, he certainly did not enter it, but
probably waited outside during the brief space which pre
ceded the transference of Jesus to Caiaphas. He had now
been joined by John, and the two followed the melancholy
procession which escorted Jesus to the High-Priest. John
seems to have entered ' the court ' along with the guard,b
>>st John while Peter remained outside till his fellow*
xviii. 15 Apostle, who apparently was well known in the
High-Priest's house, had spoken to the maid who kept
the door — the male servants being probably all gathered
in the court — and so procured his admission.
It was a chill night when Peter, down ' beneath,'
° st Mark looked up to the lighted windows. There, among
*st Matt ^hQ serving-men in the court, he was in every
xxvi 68 sense ' without.' d He approached the group
around the fire. He would hear what they had to say ;
besides, it was not safe to stand apart ; he might be recog
nised as one of those who had only escaped capture in the
Garden by hasty flight. And then it was cold — and not
only to the body, the chill had struck to his soul. Was he
right in having come there at all ?
Peter was very restless, and yet he must seem very
-TheSynop- quiet. He ' sat down' among the servants," then
tists ^e st0od up among them.f It was this restless-
'st John negg Q£ attempted indifference which attracted
the attention of the maid who had at the first admitted
him. As in the uncertain light she scanned the features
of the mysterious stranger, she boldly charged him,6
e st John though still in a questioning tone, with being one
of the disciples of the Man Who stood incrimin
ated up there before the High-Priest. Peter vehemently

582 Jesus the Messiah
denied all knowledge of Him to Whom the woman re
ferred — nay, of the very meaning of what she said. He
had said too much not to bring soon another charge upon
himself. We need not inquire which of the slightly vary
ing reports in the Gospels represents the actual words of
the woman or the actual answer of Peter. Perhaps neither;
perhaps all ; certainly she said all this, and certainly he
answered all that, though neither of them would confine
their words to the short sentences reported by each of the
Evangelists. What had he to do there ? And why should he in
criminate himself, or perhaps Christ, by a needless confes
sion to those who had neither the moral nor the legal right
to exact it ? That was all he now remembered and thought ;
nothing about any denial of Christ. And so, as they were
still chatting together, Peter withdrew. We cannot judge
how long time had passed, but this we gather, that the
words of the woman had either not made any impression
on those around the fire, or that the bold denial of Peter
had satisfied them. Presently, we find Peter walking away
» st Mat- down ' the porch,' a which ran round and opened
thew into ' the outer court.' b He was not thinking of
b St Mark . .
anything else now tban how chilly it felt, and
how right he had been not to be entrapped by that
woman. And so he heeded it not, while his footfall sounded
along the marble-paved porch, that just at this moment ' a
cock crew.' But there was no sleep that night in the
High-Priest's Palace. As he walked down the porch to
wards the outer court, first one maid met him ; and then,
as he returned from the outer court, he once more encoun
tered his old accuser, the door-portress ; and as he crossed
the inner court to mingle again with the group around the
fire, where he had formerly found safety, he was first
accosted by one man, and then all those around the fire
turned upon him — and each and all had the same thing to
say, the same charge, that he was also one of the disciples
of Jesus of Nazareth. But Peter's resolve was taken ; he
was quite sure it was right ; and to each separately, and to
all together, he gave the same denial, more brief now, for

Before Caiaphas 583
he was collected and determined, but more emphatic — even
¦ st. Mat- with an oath.a And once more he silenced sus
picion for a time. Or, perhaps, attention wa3
now otherwise directed.
3. For, already, footsteps were heard along the porches
and corridors. They were the leading Priests, Elders, and
Sanhedrists, who had been hastily summoned to the High-
Priest's Palace, and who were hurrying up just as the first
faint streaks of grey light were lying on the sky.
Whatever view be taken, thus much at least is cer
tain, that this was no formal, regular meeting of the
Sanhedrin. It is admitted on all hands, that forty years before the
destruction of the Temple the Sanhedrin ceased to pro
nounce capital sentences. But besides, the trial and
sentence of Jesus in the Palace of Caiaphas would have
outraged every principle of Jewish criminal law and pro
cedure. Such causes could only be tried, and capital
sentence pronounced, in the regular meeting-place of the
Sanhedrin, not, as here, in the High-Priest's Palace ; no
process, least of all such an one, might be begun in the
night, not even in the afternoon, although if the discussion
had gone on all day, sentence might be pronounced at
night. Again, no process could take place on Sabbaths
or Feast-days, or even on the eves of them. Lastly, in
capital causes there was a very elaborate system of warning
and cautioning witnesses, while it may safely be affirmed
that at a regular trial Jewish Judges, however prejudiced,
would not have acted as the Sanhedrists and Caiaphas did
on this occasion.
But as we examine it more closely, we perceive that
the Gospel-narratives do not speak of a formal trial and
sentence by the Sanhedrin. Such references as to ' the
Sanhedrin ' (' council '), or to ' all the Sanhedrin,' must be
taken in the wider sense, which will presently be explained-
On the other hand, the four Gospels equally indicate that
the whole proceedings of that night were carried on in the
Palace of Caiaphas, and that during that night no formal
sentence of death was pronounced. And when in the

584 Jesus the Messiah
morning, in consequence of a fresh consultation, also in
the Pala.ce of Caiaphas, they led Jesus to the Praetorium,
it was not as a prisoner condemned to death of whom they
asked the execution,4 but as one against whom
xvu'iJ29,n30 they laid certain accusations worthy of death ; b
*st Luke while, when Pilate bade them judge Jesus
st.Matt. according to Jewish Law, they replied not
?st John that they had done so already, but that they had
xvm. 31 nQ competence to try capital causes.0
4. But although Christ was not tried and sentenced
in a fo m il meeting of the Sanhedrin, there can be no
question fiat His condemnation and Death were the work,
if not of the Sanhedrin, yet of the Sanhedrists — of the
whole body of them (' all the council '), in the sense of
expressing what was the judgment and purpose of the
Supreme Council and Leaders of Israel, with only very
few exceptions. We bear in mind, that the resolution to
sacrifice Christ had for some time been taken. Terrible
as the proceedings of that night were, they even seem a
sort of concession — as if the Sanhedrists would fain have
found some legal and moral justification for what they had
determined to do. They first sought ' witness,' or as St.
Matthew rightly designates it, ' false witness ' against
Christ. But it was altogether too hasty and excited an
assemblage, and the witnesses contradicted themselves so
grossly, or their testimony so notoriously broke down,
that for very shame such trumped-up charges had to be
abandoned. And to this result the majestic calm of
Christ's silence must have greatly contributed.
Abandoning this line of testimony, the Priests next
brought forward probably some of their own order, who at
the first Purgation of the Temple had been present when
Jesus, in answer to the challenge for ' a sign ' in evidence
of His authority, had given them that mysterious ' sign '
of the destruction and upraising of the Temple of His
a st. John Body.3 They had quite misunderstood it at the
ii. is, 19 time, and its reproduction now as the ground of
a criminal charge against Jesus must have been directly
due to Caiaphas and Annas. We remember that this

Before Caiaphas 585
had been the first time that Jesus had come into collision,
not only with the Temple authorities, but with the avarice
of ' the family of Annas.' We can imagine how the in
censed High-Priest would have challenged the conduct of
the Temple-officials, and how, in reply, he would have
been told what they had attempted, and how Jesus had
met them. Perhaps it was the only real inquiry which a
man like Caiaphas would care to institute about what
Jesus said.
Dexterously manipulated, the testimony of these
witnesses might lead up to two charges. It would show
that Christ was a dangerous seducer of the people, Whose
claims might have led those who believed them to lay
violent hands on the Temple ; while the supposed asser-
¦ stMark tion, that He would a or was ableb to build the
b st- Matt- Temple again within three days, might be made
to imply Divine or magical pretensions. The purpose of
the High-Priest was not to formulate a capital charge in
Jewish Law, since the assembled Sanhedrists had no in
tention so to try Jesus, but to formulate a charge which
would tell before the Roman Procurator. And here none
other could be so effective as that of being a fanatical
seducer of the ignorant populace, who might lead them on
to wild tumultuous acts.
But this charge of being a seducer of the people also
broke down, through the disagreement of the two witnesses
«Deut. xvii. whom the Mosaic Law required,0 and who,
6 according to Rabbinic ordinance, had to be
separately questioned. All this time Jesus preserved the
same majestic silence as before, nor could the impatience
of Caiaphas, who sprang from his seat to confront, and,
if possible, browbeat his Prisoner, extract from Him any
reply. Only one thing now remained. Jesus knew it well,
and so did Caiaphas. It was to put the question, which
Jesus could not refuse to answer, and which, once
answered, must lead either to His acknowledgment or to
His condemnation. As we suppose, the simple question
was first addressed to Jesus, whether He was the Messiah:

586 Jesus the Messiah
to which He replied by referring to the needlessness of
such an inquiry, since they had predetermined not to
credit His claims, nay, had only a few days before in the
Temple refused a to discuss them.b It was upon
xfu.^46 this that the High-Priest, in the most solemn
xxu'mmss- manner) adjured the True One by the Living
the kaise ' God, Whose Son He was, to say whether He
goMs*5 were the Messiah and Divine — the two being
spunona SQ j0^ne(j together, not in Jewish belief, but to
express the claims of Jesus. No doubt or hesitation
could here exist. Solemn, emphatic, calm, majestic, as
before had been His silence, was now His speech. And
His assertion of what He was, was conjoined with that of
what God would show Him to be, in His Resurrection and
Sitting at the Right Hand of the Father, and of what they
also would see, when He would come in those clouds of
heaven that would break over their city and polity in the
final storm ofjudgment.
They all heard, it — and, as the Law directed when
blasphemy was spoken, the High -Priest rent both his
outer and inner garment, with a rent that might never be
repaired. But the object was attained. Christ would
neither explain, modify, nor retract His claims. They
had all heard it ; what use was there of witnesses, He had
spoken ' blaspheming.' Then, turning to those assembled,
he put to them the usual question which preceded the
formal sentence of death. As given in the Rabbinic
original, it. is : ' What think ye, gentlemen ? And they
answered, if for life, " For life ! " and if for death, " For
death.'" But the formal sentence of death, which, if it
had been a regular meeting of the Sanhedrin, must now
have been spoken by the President, was not pronounced.
5. After this meeting of the Sanhedrists had broken
up, so far as recorded, not a word escaped His Lips. He
was drinking, slowly, with the consciousness of willing
self-surrender, the Cup which His Father had given Him.
When Caiaphas and the Sanhedrists quitted the au
dience-chamber, Jesus was left to the unrestrained licence
of the attendants. Even the Jewish Law had it, that no

Peter and Jesus 587
' prolonged death ' might be inflicted, and that he who was
condemned to death was not to be previously- scourged.
At last they were weary of insult and smiting, and the
Sufferer was left alone, perhaps in the covered gallery, or
at one of the windows that overlooked the court below.
About one hour had passed a since Peter's second
• stLuke denial had, so to speak, been interrupted by the
arrival of the Sanhedrists. Since then the excitement of
the mock-trial, with witnesses coming and going, and, no
doubt, in Eastern fashion repeating what had passed to
those gathered in the court around the fire ; then the de
parture of the Sanhedrists, and again the insults and blows
inflicted on the Sufferer, had diverted attention from Peter.
Now it turned once more upon him ; and, in the circum
stances, naturally more intensely than before. The chatter
ing of Peter, whom conscience and consciousness made
nervously garrulous, betrayed him. This one also was
with Jesus the Nazarene : truly, he was of them — for he
was also a Galilean ! So spake the bystanders ; while, accor
ding to St. John, a fellow-servant and kinsman of that
Malchus, whose ear Peter in his zeal had cut off in Geth
semane, asserted that he actually recognised him. To one
and all these declarations Peter returned only a more
vehement denial, accompanying it this time with oaths to
God and imprecations on himself.
The echo of his words had scarcely died out when loud
and shrill the second cock-crowing was heard. There was
that in its harsh persistence of sound that also wakened
his memory. He looked up ; and as he looked, he saw,
how up there, just at that moment, the Lord turned round
and looked upon him — yes, in all that assembly, upon Peter !
His Eyes spake His Words ; nay, much more ; they searched
down to the innermost depths of Peter's heart. They had
pierced through all self-delusion, false shame, and fear :
they had reached the man, the disciple, the lover of Jesus.
Forth they burst, the waters of conviction, of true shame,
of heart-sorrow, of the agonies of self-condemnation ; and
bitterly weeping he rushed out into the night.

588 Jesus the Messiah
CHAPTER LXXXIY.
THE MORNING OF GOOD FRIDAY.
(St. Matt, xxvii. 1, 2, 11-14 ; St. Mark xv. 1-5 ; St. Luke xxiii. 1-5 ; St.
John xviii. 28-38; St. Luke xxiii. 6-12; St. Matt, xxvii. 3-10; 15-
18 ; St. Mark xv. 6-10 ; St. Luke xxiii. 13-17 ; St. John xviii. 39, 40 ;
St. Matt, xxvii. 19 ; 20-31 ; St. Mark xv. 11-20 ; St. Luke xxiii. 13-
25 ; St. John xix. 1-16.)
The pale grey light had passed into that of early morning,
when the Sanhedrists once more assembled in the Palace
of Caiaphas. A comparison with the terms in which they
who had formed the gathering of the previous night are
described will convey the impression, that the number of
those present was now increased, and that they who now came
belonged to the wisest and most influential of the Council.
It is not unreasonable to suppose, that some who would
not take part in deliberations which were virtually a judicial
murder might, once the resolution was taken, feel in Jewish
casuistry absolved from guilt in advising how the informal
sentence might best be carried into effect. It was this,
and not the question of Christ's guilt, which formed the
subject of deliberation on that early morning. The result
of it was to ' bind ' Jesus and hand Him over as a male
factor to Pilate, with the resolve, if possible, not to frame
» st John any definite charge ; a but, if this became necessary,
^st Luke" to lay all the emphasis on the purely political,
xxiii 2 not the religious aspect of the claims of Jesus.b
It is recorded that they who brought Him would not
themselves enter the portals of the Palace of Herod, which
it is probable that Pilate occupied when in Jerusalem with
his wife, ' that they might not be defiled, but might eat
the Passover.'
It is certain that entrance into a heathen house did
Levitically render impure for that day— that is, till the
evening. But to have so become ' impure ' for the day,
would not have disqualified for eating the Paschal Lamb,
since that meal was partaken of after the evening, and

The Morning of Good Friday 589
when a new day had begun. It follows, that these San
hedrists could not have abstained from entering the Palace
of Pilate because by so doing they would have been dis
qualified for the Paschal Supper.
The point is of importance, because many have in
terpreted the expression ' the Passover ' as referring to the
Paschal Supper, and have argued that, according to the
fourth Gospel, our Lord did not on the previous evening
partake of the Paschal Lamb, or else that in this respect
the account of the fourth Gospel does not accord with that of
the Synoptists. But as it is impossible to refer the expres
sion ' Passover ' to the Paschal Supper, we have only to
inquire whether the term is not also applied to other offer-
» Deut xvi ings. And here both the Old Testament a and
xxxv-2 i^™' Jewish writings show that the term ' Passover '
6' 18 was applied not only to the Paschal Lamb, but
to all the Passover sacrifices, especially to what was
called the Chagigah, or ' festive offering.' This was brought
on the first festive Paschal Day. We can therefore
quite understand that not on the eve of the Passover, but
on the first Paschal day, the Sanhedrists would avoid
incurring a defilement which, lasting till the evening,
would not only have involved them in the inconvenience
of Levitical defilement on the first festive day, but have
actually prevented their offering on that day the Passover,
festive sacrifice, or Chagigah. For we have these two ex
press rules: that a person could not in Levitical defilement
offer the Chagigah ; and that the Chagigah could not be
offered for a person by some one else who took his place.
These considerations and canons seem decisive as regards
the views above expressed. There would have been no
reason to fear ' defilement ' on the morning of the Paschal
Sacrifice ; but entrance into the Prcetorium, on the morn
ing of the first Passover-day would have rendered it impos
sible for them to offer the Chagigah, which is also designated
by the term Pesach.
It may have been about seven in the morning, probably
even earlier, when Pilate went out to those who summoned
him to dispense justice. The first question of Pilate was,

590 Jesus the Messiah
what accusation they brought against Jesus. The inquiry
would come upon them the more unexpectedly, that Pilate
must, on the previous evening, have given his consent to
the employment of the Roman guard which effected the
arrest of Jesus. Their answer displays humiliation, ill-
humour, and an attempt at evasion. If He had not been
' a malefactor,' they would not have ' delivered ' Him up.
On this vague charge Pilate, in whom we mark throughout
a strange reluctance, refused to proceed. He proposed
that the Sanhedrists should try Jesus according to Jewish
Law. Under ordinary circumstances, Pilate would not
have wished to hand over a person accused of setting up
Messianic claims to the Jewish authorities, to try the case
• Acts xxii. as a merely religious question." Taking this in
Is ;sff ^iiT. connection with the fact that on the previous
9, 18-20 evening the Governor had given a Roman guard
for the arrest of the prisoner, and the dream and warning
of Pilate's wife, a peculiar impression is conveyed to us.
We can understand it all, if, on the previous evening, after
the Roman guard had been granted, Pilate had spoken of
it to his wife, whether because he knew her to be, or
because she might be interested in the matter. Tradition
has given her the name Procula ; an Apocryphal Gospel
describes her as a convert to Judaism ; while the Greek
Church has actually placed her in the catalogue of Saints.
What if the truth lay between these statements, and
Procula had not only been a proselyte, like the wife of a
previous Roman Governor, but known about Jesus and
spoken of Him to Pilate on that evening ? This would
best explain his reluctance to condemn Jesus, as well as
her dream of Him.
As the Jewish authorities had to decline the Governor's
offer to proceed against Jesus before their own tribunal, on
the avowed ground that they had not power to pronounce
capital sentence, it now behoved them to formulate a
capital charge. This is recorded by St. Luke alone.b It
' st. Luke was that Jesus had said He Himself was Christ
xxm. 2, 3 a ]£ing. It will be noted, that in so saying they
falsely imputed to Jesus their own political expectations

The Morning of Good Friday 591
concerning the Messiah. But even this is not all. They
prefaced it by this, that He perverted the nation and for
bade to give tribute to Caesar. The latter charge was so
grossly unfounded, that we can only regard it as in their
mind a necessary inference from the premiss that He
claimed to be King. And, as telling most against Him,
they put this first and foremost, treating the inference as
if it were a fact.
This charge of the Sanhedrists explains what passed
within the Praetorium. We presume that Christ was
within, probably in charge of some guards. Pilate now
called Jesus and asked Him : ' Thou art the King of the
Jews ? ' There is that mixture of contempt, cynicism, and
awe in this question which we mark throughout in his bear
ing and words. It was as if two powers were contending for
the mastery in his heart. Out of all that the Sanhedrists
had said, Pilate took only this, that Jesus claimed to be
a King. Christ, Who had not heard the charge of His
accusers, now ignored it, in His desire to stretch out salva
tion even to a Pilate. He first put it to Pilate, whether
the question was his own, or merely the repetition of what
His Jewish accusers had told Pilate of Him. The Governor
quickly disowned any personal inquiry. How could he
raise any such question ? he was not a Jew, and the sub
ject had no general interest. Jesus' own nation and its
leaders had handed Him over as a criminal : what had He
done? The answer of Pilate left nothing else for Him Who,
even in that supreme hour, thought only of others, but to
bring before the Roman directly that truth for which his
words had given the opening. It was not, as Pilate had
implied, a Jewish question : it was one of absolute truth j
it concerned all men. The Kingdom of Christ was not of
this world at all, either Jewish or Gentile. Had it be°n
otherwise, He would have led His followers to a contest for
His claims and aims, and not have become a prisoner of
the Jews. One word only in all this struck Pilate. ' So
then a King art Thou ! ' He was incapable of apprehend
ing the higher thought and truth. We mark in his words

592 Jesus the Messiah
the same mixture of scoffing and misgiving. Pilate was
now in no doubt as to the nature of the Kingdom ; his
exclamation and question applied to the Kingship. That
fact Christ would now emphasise in the glory of His
Humiliation. He accepted what Pilate said ; He adopted
his words. But He added to them an appeal, or rather an
explanation of His claims, such as a heathen, and a Pilate,
could understand. His Kingdom was not of this world,
but of that other world which He had come to reveal, and
to open to all believers. His Birth or Incarnation, as the
Sent of the Father, and His own voluntary Coming into this
» Rt John world — for both are referred to in His words a —
xviii 37 jja(j for their object to testify of the truth con
cerning that other world, of which was His Kingdom.
This was no Jewish-Messianic Kingdom, but one that
appealed to all men. And all who had moral affinity to
' the truth ' would listen to His testimony, and so come to
own Him as ' King.'
It is not merely cynicism, but utter despair of all
that is higher — a moral suicide — which now appears in
Pilate's question : ' What is truth ? ' But even so his
inquiry seems an admission, an implied homage to Christ.
Assuredly, he would not have so opened his inner being to
one of the priestly accusers of Jesus.
That Man was no rebel, no criminal! They who
brought Him were moved by the lowest passions. And
so he told them, as he went out, that he found no fault in
Him. Then came from the assembled Sanhedrists a per
fect hailstorm of accusations. As we picture it to our
selves, all this while the Christ stood near, perhaps behind
Pilate, just within the portals of the Prastorium. And to
this clamour of charges He made no reply. But as He
stood in the calm silence of Majesty, Pilate greatly
wondered. Did this Man not even fear death ; was He
so conscious of innocence, So infinitely superior to those
around and against Him ?
Fain would he have withdrawn ; not that he was moved
for absolute truth or by the personal innocence of the
Sufferer, but that there was that in the Christ which made

The Morning of Good Friday 593
him reluctant to be unrighteous and unjust. And so
when, amidst these confused cries, he caught the name
Galilee as the scene of Jesus' labours, he gladly seized
on what offered the prospect of devolving the responsi
bility on another. Jesus was a Galilean, and therefore
belonged to the jurisdiction of King Herod. To Herod,
therefore, who had come for the Feast to Jerusalem,
and there occupied the old Maccabean Palace close
»st Luke to that of the High- Priest, Jesus was now
xxm- ^ sent.a
To St. Luke alone we owe the account of what passed
there. The opportunity now offered was welcome to
Herod. It was a mark of reconciliation (or might be
viewed as such) between himself and the Roman, and in a
manner flattering to himself, since the first step had been
taken by the Governor, and that by an almost ostentatious
acknowledgment of the rights of the Tetrarch, on which
possibly their former feud may have turned. Besides,
Herod had long wished to see Jesus, of whom he had
* st Luke heard so many things.b But in vain did he ply
**• 7~9 Christ with questions. He was as silent to him
as formerly against the virulent charges of the Sanhedrists.
But a Christ Who would or could do no signs, nor even
kindle into the same denunciations as the Baptist, was to
Antipas only a helpless figure that might be insulted and
scoffed at, as did the Tetrarch and his men of war. And
so Jesus was once more sent back to the Praetorium.
It is in the interval during which Jesus was before
Herod, or probably soon afterwards, that we place the last
c st Matt weird scene in the life of Judas, recorded by St.
xxvii 3-16 Matthew.0
Sufficient had already passed to convince Judas what
the end would be. The words which Jesus had spoken to
him in the Garden must have burnt into his soul. He was
among the soldiery that fell back at Christ's look. Since
then Jesus had been led bound to Annas, to Caiaphas, to
the Praetorium, to Herod. Even if Judas had not been
present at any of these occasions, and we do not suppose
that his conscience had allowed this, all Jerusalem must
QQ

594 Jesus the Messiah
by that time have been full of the report, probably in even
exaggerated form. One thing he saw : that Jesus was
condemned. Judas did not ' repent' in the Scriptural
sense ; but ' a change of mind and feeling ' came over
him. Whether this might have passed into repentance ;
whether, if he had cast himself at the Feet of Jesus, as
undoubtedly he might have done, this would have been so,
we need not here ask. The mind and feelings of Judas,
as regarded the deed he had done, and as regarded Jesus,
were now quite other. The road, the streets, the people's
faces — all seemed now to bear witness against him and for
Jesus. He read it everywhere ; he felt it always. What
had been ; what was ; what would be ! Heaven and earth
receded from him ; there were voices in the air, and
pangs in the soul — and no escape, help, counsel, or hope
anywhere. It was despair, and his a desperate resolve. He must
get rid of these thirty pieces of silver. Then at least his
deed would have nothing of the selfish in it : only a terrible
error, a mistake, to which he had been incited by these
Sanhedrists. Back to them with the money, and let them
have it again ! And so forward he pressed amidst the
crowd, which would give way before the haggard face that
crime had made old in those few hours, till he came upon
the knot of priests and Sanhedrists, perhaps at that very
moment speaking of it all. A most unwelcome sight and
intrusion on them, this necessary but odious figure in the
drama— belonging to its past, and who should rest in its
obscurity. But he would be heard ; nay, his words would
cast the burden on them to share it with him, as with
hoarse cry he broke into this : ' I have sinned — in that I
have betrayed — innocent blood ! ' They turned from him
with impatience, in contempt, as so often the seducer turns
from the seduced : ' What is that to us ? See thou to it ! '
And presently they were again deep in conversation or
consultation. For a moment he stared before him, the
very thirty pieces of silver that had been weighed to him,
and which he had now brought back, and would fain have
given them, still clutched in his hand. For a moment

The Morning of Good Friday • 595
only, and then he rushed forward, towards the Sanctuary
itself, probably to where the Court of Israel bounded on
that of the Priests, where generally the penitents stood in
waiting, while in the Priests' Court the sacrifice was
offered for them. There bending forward, he hurled from
him those thirty pieces of silver, so that each resounded as
it fell on the marble pavement.
Out from the Temple, out of Jerusalem, ' into solitude.'
Down into the horrible solitude of the Valley of Hinnom,
the ' Tophet ' of old, with its ghastly memories, the Gehenna
of the future, with its ghostly associations. Across the
Valley, and up the steep sides of the mountain. We are
now on 'the potter's field' of Jeremiah — somewhat to the
west above where the Kidron and Hinnom valleys merge.
It is soft clayey soil, where the footsteps slip, or are held
in clammy bonds. Here jagged rocks rise perpendicularly :
perhaps there was some gnarled, bent, stunted tree. Up
there he climbed to the top of that rock. Now slowly
and deliberately he unwound the long girdle that held his
garment. It was the girdle in which he had carried those
thirty pieces of silver. He is now quite calm and col
lected. With that girdle he will hang himself on that
tree close by, and when he has fastened it, he will throw
himself off from that jagged rock.
It is done. But as he swung heavily on that branch,
under the burden the girdle gave way, or perhaps the
knot unloosed, and he fell heavily forward among the rocks
beneath, and perished in the manner of which St. Peter
' Acts i. is reminded his fellow-disciples in the days before
19 Pentecost." But in the Temple the priests knew
not what to do with these thirty pieces of money. Their
unscrupulous scrupulosity came again upon them. It was
not lawful to take into the Temple-treasury, for the pur
chase of sacred things, money that had been unlawfully
gained. In such cases the Jewish Law provided that the
money was to be restored to the donor, and, if he insisted
on giving it, that he should be induced to spend it on
something for the public' weal By a fiction of law the
money was still considered to be Judas', and to have been
o. q 2

596 Jesus the Messiah
applied by him ¦ in the purchase of the well-known ' pot
ter's field,' for the charitable purpose of burying
t> st Matt in it strangers.b But from henceforth the old
xxvi1' 7 name of ' potter's field ' became popularly changed
into that of ' field of blood.'
We *are once more outside the Praetorium, to which
Pilate had summoned from the Temple Sanhedrists and
people. The crowd was momentarily increasing from the
town. It was not only to see what was about to happen,
but to witness another spectacle, that of the release of a
prisoner. For it seems to have been the custom, that at
the Passover the Roman Governor released to the Jewish
populace some notorious prisoner who lay condemned to
death. On the present occasion it might be more easy for
the Sanhedrists to influence the people among whom they
mingled, since Bar-Abbas belonged to that class, not un
common at the time, which, under the colourable pretence
of political aspirations, committed robbery and other crimes.
These movements had deeply struck root in popular sym
pathy. But when the Governor, hoping to enlist some popular
sympathy, put this alternative to them — nay, urged it, on
the ground that neither he nor yet Herod had found any
crime in Jesus, and would even have appeased their thirst
for vengeance by offering to submit Him to the cruel
punishment of scourging, it was in vain. It was now that
Pilate sat down on 'the judgment seat.' But ere he could
proceed, came that message from his wife about her dream .
and the warning entreaty to have nothing to do 'with that
righteous man.' An omen such as a dream, and an appeal
connected with it, especially in the circumstances of that
trial, would powerfully impress a Roman. And for a few
moments it seemed as if the appeal to popular feeling on
= st. Mark behalf of Jesus might have been successful.0 But
KT- u once more the Sanhedrists prevailed. Apparently,
all who had been followers of Jesus had been scattered. It
was Bar- Abbas for whom, incited by the priesthood, the
populace now clamoured with increasing vehemence. To
the question — half bitter, half mocking — what they wished

BEHOLD THE MAN.

The Morning of- Good Friday 597
him to do with Him Whom their own leaders had in their
accusation called ' King of the Jews,' surged back, louder
and louder, the cry : ' Crucify Him ! ' In vain Pilate ex
postulated, reasoned, appealed. Popular frenzy only grew
as it was opposed.
All reasoning having failed, Pilate had recourse to one
more expedient, which, under ordinary circumstances,
»st Matt would have been effective.8- When a Judge, after
xxvii 24, 25 having declared the innocence of the accused,
actually rises from the judgment-seat, and by a symbolic
act pronounces the execution of the accused a judicial
murder, from all participation in which he wishes solemnly
to clear himself, surely no jury would persist in demanding
sentence of death. But in the present instance there was
even more. Although we find allusions to some such
custom among the heathen, that which here took place
was an essentially Jewish rite, which must have appealed
the more forcibly to the Jews that it was done by Pilate.
And not only the rite, but the very words were Jewish.
It does not affect the question, whether or not a judge
could, especially in the circumstances recorded, free him
self from guilt. Certainly, he could not. But such conduct
on the part of Pilate appears so unusual, as, indeed, his
whole bearing towards Christ, that we can only account
for it by the deep impression which Jesus had made upon
him. All the more terrible would be the guilt of Jewish
resistance. There is something overawing in Pilate's ' See
ye to it ' — a reply to the Sanhedrists' ' See thou to it,' to
Judas, and in the same words.
The Evangelists have passed as rapidly as possible over
the last scenes of indignity and horror, and we are too
thankful to follow their example. Bar- Abbas was at once
released. Jesus was handed over to the soldiery to be
scourged and crucified, although final and formal judgment
b had not yet been pronounced.b Indeed, Pilate
xix.' 1, and seems to have hoped that the horrors of the
'ver!Xand scourging might still move the people to desist
following from the ferocious cry for the Cross.0 Without
repeating the harrowing realism of a Cicero, scourging was

598 Jesus the Messiah
the terrible introduction to crucifixion — ' the intermediate
death.' Stripped of His clothes, His hands tied and back
bent, the Victim would be bound to a column or stake, in
front of the Prastorium. The scourging ended, the soldiery
would hastily cast upon Him His upper garments, and lead
Him back into the Prastorium. Here they called the whole
cohort together, and the silent, faint Sufferer became the
object of their ribald jesting. From His bleeding Body
they tore the clothes, and in mockery arrayed Him in
scarlet or purple. For crown they wound together thorns,
and for sceptre they placed in His Hand a reed. Then
alternately, in mock proclamation they hailed Him King,
or worshipped Him as God, and smote Him or heaped on
Him other indignities.
Such a spectacle might well have disarmed enmity,
and for ever allayed worldly fears. And so Pilate had
hoped, when at his bidding Jesus came forth from the
Praatorium, arrayed as a mock-king, and the Governor
presented Him to the populace in words which the Church
has ever since treasured : ' Behold the Man ! ' But so far
from appeasing, the sight only incited to fury the ' chief
priests' and their subordinates. This Man before them
was the occasion, that on this Paschal Day a heathen dared
in Jerusalem itself insult their deepest feelings, mock their
most cherished Messianic hopes ! ' Crucify ! ' ' Crucify ! '
resounded from all sides. Once more Pilate appealed to
them, when, unwittingly and unwillingly, it elicited this
from the people, that Jesus had claimed to be the Son of
God. If nothing else, what light it casts on the mode in
which Jesus had borne Himself amidst those tortures and
insults, that this statement of the Jews filled Pilate with
fear, and led him to seek converse again with Jesus within
the Praetorium. His first question to Jesus was, whence
He was ? And when, as was most fitting — since he could
not have understood it — Jesus returned no answer, the
feeling of the Roman became only the more intense.
Would He not speak ; did He not know that he had abso
lute power ' to release or to crucify ' Him ? Nay, not

The Morning of Good Friday 599
absolute power — all power, came from above ; but the guilt
in the abuse of power was far greater on the part of apo
state Israel and its leaders, who knew whence power came,
and to Whom they were responsible for its exercise.
So spake not an impostor ; so spake not an ordinary
man — after such sufferings and in such circumstances — to
one who, whencesoever derived, had the power of life or
death over Him. And Pilate felt it — the more keenly, for
his cynicism and disbelief of all that was higher. And the
more earnestly did he now seek to release Jesus. But, pro
portionately, the louder and fiercer was the cry ofthe Jews
for His Blood, till they threatened to implicate in the
charge of rebellion against Caesar the Governor himself, if
he persisted in unwonted mercy.
Such danger a Pilate would never encounter. He sat
down once more in the judgment-seat, outside the Praeto
rium, in the place called ' Pavement,' and, from its outlook
over the City, ' Gabbatha,' ' the rounded height.' So
solemn is the transaction that the Evangelist pauses to
note once more the day — hay, the very hour, when the
process had commenced. It had been the Friday in Pass
over-week, and between six and seven of the morning.
And at the close Pilate once more in mockery presented
to them Jesus : ' Behold your King ! ' Once more they
called for His Crucifixion — and, when again challenged,
the chief priests burst into the cry, which preceded Pilate's
final sentence, to be presently executed : ' We have no
king but Caesar ! '
With this cry Judaism was, in the person of its
representatives, guilty of denial of God, of blasphemy, of

600 Jesus the Messiah
CHAPTER LXXXV.
'CRUCIFIED, DEAD, AND BURIED.'
(St. Matt, xxvii. 31-43 ; St. Mark xv. 20-32* ; St. Luke xxiii. 26-38 ; St.
John xix. 16-24 ; St. Matt, xxviii. 44 ; St. Mark xv. 32" ; St. Luke
xxiii 39-43 ; St. John xix. 25-27 ; St. Matt, xxvii. 45-56 ; St. Mark
xv. 33-41 ; St. Luke xxiii. 44-49 ; St. John xix. 28-30 ; 31-37 ;
St. Matt, xxvii. 57-61 ; St. Mark xv. 42-47 ; St. Luke xxiii. 50-56 ;
St. John xix. 38-42 ; St. Matt, xxvii. 62-66.)
It matters little as regards their guilt, whether, pressing
• st John the language of St. John,a we are to understand
xix.' i6 that Pilate delivered Jesus to the Jews to be
crucified, or, as we rather infer, to his own soldiers. This
was the common practice, and it accords both with the
Governor's former taunt to the Jews,b and with
bTer-6 the after-notice of the Synoptists. They, to
whom He was ' delivered,' ' led Him away to be crucified ; '
and they who so led Him forth ' compelled ' the Cyrenian
Simon to bear the Cross.
Once more was He unrobed and robed. The purple
robe was torn from His wounded Body, the crown of thorns
from His Brow. Arrayed again in His own, now blood
stained, garments, He was led forth to execution. Only
• st Mark about two hours and a half had passed0 since the
?st.2john time that He had first stood before Pilate (about
***¦ 16 half-past six),d when the melancholy procession
reached Golgotha (at nine o'clock a.m.) In Rome an
interval, ordinarily of two days, intervened between a
sentence and its execution ; but the rule does not seem to
have applied to the provinces, if, indeed, in this case the
formal rules of Roman procedure were at all observed.
The preparations were soon made : the hammer, the
nails, the Cross, the very food for the soldiers who were to
watch under each Cross. Four soldiers would be detailed
for each Cross, the whole being under the command of a cen
turion. As always, the Cross was borne to the place of exe
cution by Him Who was to suffer on it — perhaps His Arms
bound to it with cords. But there is happily no evidence —

ON THE ROAD TO CALVARY.

'Crucified' 601
rather, every indication to the contrary — that, according
to ancient custom, the neck of the Sufferer was fastened
within the patibulum, two horizontal pieces of wood placed
at the end, to which the hands were bound. Ordinarily,
the procession was headed by the centurion, or preceded
by one who proclaimed the nature of the crime, and car
ried a white wooden board, on which it was written.
Commonly, also, it took the longest road to the place of
execution, and through the most crowded streets, so as to
attract most public attention. But we would suggest that
alike this long circuit and the proclamation of the herald
were, in the present instance, dispensed with. They are
not hinted at in the text, and seem incongruous to the
festive season, and the other circumstances of the history.
Discarding all later legendary embellishments, we
will try to realise the scene as described in the Gospels.
Under the leadership of the centurion, Jesus came forth
bearing His Cross. He was followed by two malefactors
— ' robbers ' — probably of the class then so numerous, that
covered its crimes by pretensions of political motives.
These two, also, would bear each his cross, and probably be
attended each by four soldiers. Crucifixion was not a
Jewish mode of punishment, although the Maccabee King
Jannaeus had so far forgotten the claims of both humanity
and religion as on one occasion to crucify not less than
800 persons in Jerusalem itself. But even Herod, with all
his cruelty, did not resort to this mode of execution. Nor
was it employed by the Romans till after the time of Caesar,
when, with the fast increasing cruelty of punishments, it
became fearfully common in the provinces. Especially does
it seem to characterise the domination of Rome in Judssa
under every Governor. During the last siege of Jerusalem
hundreds of crosses daily arose, till there seemed not suffi
cient room nor wood for them, and the soldiery diversified
their horrible amusement by new modes of crucifixion.
As mostly all abominations of the ancient world,
whether in religion or life, crucifixion was of Phcenician
origin, although Rome adopted and improved on it. The
modes of execution among the Jews were : strangulation,

602 . Jesus the Messiah
beheading, burning, and stoning. In all ordinary cir
cumstances the Rabbis were most reluctant to pronounce
sentence of death. The indignity of hanging — and this
only after the criminal had been otherwise executed —
was reserved for the crimes of idolatry and blasphemy.
Three kinds of Ci-css were in use : the so-called St.
Andrew's Cross ( x , the Crux decussata), the Cross in the
form of a T (Grux commissa), and the ordinary Latin Cross
(+ , Crux immissa). We believe that Jesus bore the last
of these. This would also most readily admit of affixing
the board with the threefold inscription, which we know
His Cross bore. This Cross, as St. John expressly states,
Jesus Himself bore at the outset. And so the procession
moved on towards Golgotha. Not only the location, but
even the name of that which appeals so strongly to every
Christian heart, is matter of controversy. The name can
not have been derived from the skulls which lay about,
since such exposure would have been unlawful, and hence
must have been due to the skull-like shape and appearance
of the place.
Whether or not the ' tomb of the Herodian period in
the rocky knoll to the west of Jeremiah's Grotto ' was the
most sacred spot upon earth — the ' Sepulchre in the
Garden,' we dare not positively assert, though every pro
bability attaches to it.
From the ancient Palace of Herod that procession de
scended, and probably passed through the gate in the
first wall, and so into the busy quarter of Acra. As it
proceeded, the numbers who followed from the Temple,
from the dense business -quarter through which it moved,
increased. Shops, bazaars, and markets were, indeed,
closed on the holy feast-day. But a crowd of people
would come out to line the streets and to follow ; and
especially women, leaving their festive preparations, raised
loud laments, not in spiritual recognition of Christ's claims,
but in pity and sympathy .a Since the Paschal
¦ st. Luke Supper Jesus had not tasted either food or drink.
After the deep emotion of that Feast, with all of holiest
institution which it included ; after the anticipated betrayal

' Crucified ' 603
of Judas, and after the farewell to His disciples, He had
passed into Gethsemane. There had He agonised in
mortal conflict, till the great drops of blood forced them
selves on His Brow. There had He been delivered up,
while the disciples had fled. To Annas, to Caiaphas, to
Pilate, to Herod, and again to Pilate ; from indignity to
indignity, from torture to torture, had He been hurried all
that livelong night, all that morning. Unrefreshed by
food or sleep, while His pallid Face bore the blood-marks
from the crown of thorns, His Body was unable to bear
the weight of the Cross. No wonder that the pity of the
women of Jerusalem was stirred.
Up to that last Gate which led from the ' Suburb '
towards the place of execution did Jesus bear His Cross.
Then, as we infer, His strength gave way under it. A
man was coming from the opposite direction, one from that
large colony of Jews which, as we know, had settled in
Cyrene. He would be specially noticed ; for few would
at that hour, on the festive day, come ' out of the country,'
although such was not contrary to the Law. He seems,
besides, to have been well known, at least afterwards, in the
Church — and his sons Alexander and Rufus even better
•st Mark than he. a On him the soldiery laid hold, and
"¦ 21 against his will forced him to bear the Cross after
Christ. Yet another indication of the need of such help
comes to us from St. Mark,b who uses an expres
sion which conveys that the Saviour had to be sup
ported to Golgotha from the place where they met Simon.
Here we place the next incident in this history.0
• st. Luke While the Cross was laid on Simon, the women
xxiii- s^-si wh0 ha<i followed with the populace closed around
the Sufferer, raising their lamentations. At His Entrance
»as st Luke into Jerusalem,4 Jesus had wept over the daugh-
aiso records ters of Jerusalem ; as He left it for the last time
they wept over Him. But far different were the reasons
for His tears from theirs of mere pity. And, if proof were
required of His Divine strength, even in the utmost depth
of His Human weakness — how, conquered, He was Con
queror — it would surely be found in the words in which He

604 Jesus the Messiah
bade them turn their thoughts of pity where pity would be
called for, even to themselves and their children in the
near judgment upon Jerusalem.
It was nine of the clock when the procession reached
Golgotha, and the preparations for the Crucifixion com
menced. Avowedly, the punishment was invented to make
death as painful and as lingering as the power of human
endurance. First, the upright wood was planted in the
ground. It was not high, and probably the Feet of the
Sufferer were not above one or two feet from the ground.
Thus could the communication described in the Gospels
take place between Him and others ; thus, also, might His
sacred Lips be moistened with the sponge attached to a
short stalk of hyssop. Next, the transverse wood was
placed on the ground, and the Sufferer laid on it, when
His Arms were extended, drawn up, and bound to it.
Then (this not in Egypt, but in Carthage and in Rome),
a strong, sharp nail was driven, first into the right, then
into the left Hand. Next, the Sufferer was drawn up by
means of ropes, perhaps ladders; the transverse either
bound or nailed to the upright, and a rest or support for
the Body fastened on it. Lastly, the Feet were extended,
and either one nail hammered into each, or a larger piece
of iron through the two. And so might the crucified hang
for hours, even days, till consciousness at last failed.
It was a merciful Jewish practice to give to those led
to execution a draught of strong wine mixed with myrrh,
so as to deaden consciousness. This charitable office was
performed at the cost of, if not by, an association of women
in Jerusalem. That draught was offered to Jesus when
He reached Golgotha. But having tasted it, and ascer
tained its character and object, He would not drink it. It
was like His former refusal of the pity of the ' daughters
of Jerusalem.' Nor would He suffer and die as if it had
been a necessity, not a voluntary self-surrender. He would
meet Death and conquer by submitting to the full.
And so was He nailed to His Cross, which was placed
between, probably somewhat higher than, those of the
two malefactors crucified with Him. One thing only still

' Crucified ' 605
remained: to affix to His Cross the so-called 'title,'
on which was inscribed the charge on which He had
been condemned. As already stated, it was customary
to carry this board before the prisoner, and there is
no reason for supposing any exception in this respect.
Indeed, it seems implied in the circumstance, that the
' title ' had evidently been drawn up under the direction of
Pilate. It was — as might have been expected, and yet
most significantly — trilingual : in Latin, Greek, and Ara
maean. We imagine that it was written in that order,
and that the words were those recorded by the Evangelists
(excepting St. Luke, who seems to give a modification of
the original, or Aramasan, text). The inscription given
by St. Matthew exactly corresponds with that which
Eusebius records as the Latin title on the cross of one of
the early martyrs. We therefore conclude that it repre
sents the Latin words. Again, it seems only natural that
the fullest, and to the Jews most offensive, description
should have been in Aramasan, which all could read. This
is given by St. John. It follows, that the inscription given
by St. Mark must represent that in Greek. Although much
less comprehensive, it had the same number of words, and
precisely the same number of letters, as that in Aramaean.
It seems probable that the Sanhedrists had heard from
some one, who had watched the procession on its way to
Golgotha, of the inscription which Pilate had written —
partly to avenge himself on, and partly to deride, the
Jews. We suppose that, after the condemnation of Jesus,
the Sanhedrists had gone from the Praetorium into the
Temple, to take part in its services. When informed of
the offensive tablet, they hastened once more to the
Praetorium, to induce Pilate not to allow it to be put up.
We imagine that they had originally no intention of doing
anything so un-Jewish as not only to gaze at the sufferings
of the Crucified, but to even deride Him in His Agony —
that, in fact, they had not intended going to Golgotha at
all. But when they found that Pilate would not yield to
their remonstrances, some of them hastened to the place
of Crucifixion, and, mingling with the crowd, sought to

606 Jesus the Messiah
incite their jeers, so as to prevent any deeper impression
which the significant words of the inscription might have
produced. Before nailing Him to the Cross, the soldiers parted
among them the poor worldly inheritance of His raiment.
On this point there are slight seeming differences between
the notices of the Synoptists and the more detailed account
of the Fourth Gospel. Such differences, if real, would
afford only fresh evidence of the general trustworthiness
of the narrative. For we bear in mind that, of all the
disciples, only St. John witnessed the last scenes, and that
therefore the other accounts of it circulating in the early
Church must have been derived, so to speak, from second
sources. This explains, why the most detailed as well as
precise account of the closing hours in the Life of Christ
comes to us from St. John. In the present instance these
differences may be explained in the following manner.
There was, as St. John states, first a division into four
parts — one to each of the soldiers — of such garments of the
Lord as were of nearly the same value. The head-gear,
the outer cloak-like garment, the girdle, and the sandals,
would differ little in cost. But the question, which of
them was to belong to each of the soldiers, would naturally
be decided, as the Synoptists inform us, by lot.
But besides these four articles of dress, there was the
seamless woven inner garment, by far the most valuable
of all, and for which, as it could not be partitioned without
being destroyed, they would specially cast lots (as St. John
reports). To St. John, the loving and loved disciple,
greater contrast could scarcely exist than between this
rough partition by lot among the soldiery, and the cha
racter and claims of Him Whose garments they were thus
apportioning, as if He had been a helpless Victim in their
hands. Only one explanation could here suggest itself :
that there was a Divine meaning in the permission of such
an event — that it was in fulfilment of ancient prophecy.
»Ps.xxii.i8 -^-s ne gaze^ on the terrible scene, the words of
the Psalm a which portrayed the desertion, the
sufferings, and the contempt even unto death of the Servant

' Crucified ' 607
of the Lord, flashed upon his mind — for the first time he
understood them. That this quotation is made in the
fourth Gospel alone, proves that its writer was an eye
witness ; that it was made in the fourth Gospel at all,
that he was a Jew, deeply imbued with Jewish modes of
religious thinking.
It was when they thus nailed Him to the Cross, and
parted His raiment, that He spake the first of the so-called
' Seven Words ' : ' Father, forgive them, for they know not
what they do.' Even the reference in this prayer to 'what
they do' points to the soldiers as the primary, though
• Com certainly not the sole object of the Saviour's
Acts ui 17 ; prayer.3- But higher thoughts also come to us.
When Jesus is most human (in the moment of
His being nailed to the Cross), then is He most Divine, in
the utter discarding of the human elements of human in
strumentality and of human suffering. Then also in the
utter self-forgetfulness of the God-Man — which is one of
the aspects of the Incarnation — does He only remember
Divine mercy, and pray for them who crucify Him ; and
thus only does the Conquered truly conquer His conquerors
by asking for them what their deed had forfeited.
This was His first Utterance on the Cross — as regarded
them ; as regarded Himself ; and as regarded God.
And now began the real agonies of the Cross — physical,
mental, and spiritual. Before sitting down to their watch
» st. Mat- over the Crucified,b the soldiers would refresh
thew themselves by draughts of the cheap wine of the
country. As they quaffed it, they drank to Him, and
mockingly came to Him, asking Him to pledge them in
response. Their jests were, indeed, chiefly ¦ directed not
against Jesus personally, but in His representative capa
city, and so against the hated, despised Jews, whose
King they now derisively" challenged to save Him-
« st. Luke seifc Yet even so, it seems to us of deepest
significance, that He was thus treated and derided in His
representative capacity and as the King of the Jews.
But what we find so difficult to understand is, that the
leaders of Israel had the indescribable baseness of joining

608 Jesus the Messiah .
in the jeer at Israel's great hope, and of leading the popular
chorus in it.
And did none of those who so reviled Him in all the
chief aspects of His Work feel that, as Judas had sold the
Master for nought and committed suicide, so they were
doing in regard to their Messianic hope ? For their jeers
cast contempt on the four great facts in the Life and
Work of Jesus, which were also the underlying ideas of the
Messianic Kingdom : the new relationship to Israel's reli
gion and the Temple (' Thou that destroyest the Temple,
and buildest it in three days ' ) ; the new relationship to the
Father through the Messiah, the Son of God (' if Thou be
the Son of God ') ; the new all-sufficient help brought to
body and soul in salvation (' He saved others ' ) ; and,
finally, the new relationship to Israel in the fulfilment
and perfecting of its Mission through its King (' if He be
the King of Israel '). On all these, thetaunting challenge
of the Sanhedrists, to come down from the Cross and save
Himself, if He would claim the allegiance of their faith,
cast what St. Matthew and St. Mark characterise as the
' blaspheming ' of doubt.
There is a remarkable relationship between what St.
Luke quotes as spoken by the soldiers : ' If Thou art the
King of the Jews, save Thyself,' and the report of the
» st. Matt words in St. Matthew : a ' He saved others —
3OTii-42 Himself He cannot save. He is the King of
Israel ! Let Him now come down from the Cross, and
we will believe on Him ! ' These are the words of the
Sanhedrists, and they seem to respond to those of the
soldiers, as reported by St. Luke, and to carry them fur
ther. The ' if ' of the soldiers : ' If Thou art the King of
the Jews,' now becomes a direct blasphemous challenge.
At the beginning of His Work, the Tempter had suggested
that the Christ should achieve absolute victory by an act
of presumptuous self-assertion; and now, at the close
of His Messianic Work, he suggested in the challenge
of the Sanhedrists that Jesus had suffered absolute defeat,
and that God had publicly disowned the trust which the
Christ had put in Him. ' He trusteth in God : let Him

' Crucified ' 609
deliver Him now, if He will have Him.' Here, as in the
Temptation of the Wilderness, the words misapplied were
those of Holy Scripture — in the present instance those of
Ps. xxii. 8. And the quotation, as made oy the Sanhe
drists, is the more remarkable, that, contrary to what is
generally asserted by writers, this Psalm a was
•Ps. xxu. Messianically applied by the ancient Synagogue.
More especially was this verse,b which precedes
the mocking quotation of the Sanhedrists, expressly ap
plied to the sufferings and the derision which Messiah
was to undergo from His enemies : ' All they that see Me
laugh Me to scorn : they shoot out the lip, they shake the
head.' The derision of the Sanhedrists under the Cross had a
special motive. The place of Crucifixion was close to the
great road which led from the North to Jerusalem. On
that Feast-day, when there was no law to limit locomo
tion to a ' Sabbath day's journey,' many would pass in and
out of the City, and the crowd would naturally be arrested
by the spectacle of the three Crosses. Equally naturally
would they have been impressed by the title over the Cross
of Christ. The words, describing the Sufferer as ' the King
of the Jews,' might, when taken in connection with what
was known of Jesus, have raised most dangerous questions.
And this the presence of the Sanhedrists was intended to
prevent, by turning the popular mind in a totally different
direction. St. Matthew and St. Mark merely remark in general
that the derision of the Sanhedrists and people was joined
in by the thieves on the Cross. But St. Luke records a
vital difference between the two ' robbers.' The impenitent
thief takes up the jeer of the Sanhedrists : ' Art Thou not
the Christ ? Save Thyself and us ! ' The words are the more
significant that — strange as it may sound — it is noted by
historians, that those on the cross were wont to utter in
sults and imprecations on the onlookers, goaded nature
perhaps seeking relief in such outbursts.
If a more close study of the words of the ' penitent
thief may seem to diminish the fulness of meaning which
R R

610 Jesus the Messiah '
the traditional view attaches to them, they gain all the
more as we perceive their historic reality. His first words
were of reproof to his comrade. In that terrible hour,
amidst the tortures of a slow death, did not the fear of God
at least prevent his joining with those who insulted the
dying agonies of the Sufferer ? And this all the more, in
the peculiar circumstances. They were all three sufferers ;
but they two justly, while He Whom he insulted had done
nothing amiss. From this basis of fact, the penitent rapidly
rose to the height of faith.
One thing stood out before his mind, who in that hour
did fear God. Jesus had done nothing amiss. And this
surrounded with a halo of moral glory the inscription on
the Cross, long before its words acquired a new meaning.
But how did this Innocent One bear Himself in suffering ?
With what calm of endurance He had borne the insult and
jeers of those who, even to the spiritually unenlightened
eye, must have seemed so infinitely far beneath Him!
This man did feel the ' fear ' of God, who now learned the
new lesson in which the fear of God was truly the begin
ning of wisdom. Rapidly he passed into the light, and
onwards and upwards : ' Lord, remember me, when Thou
comest in Thy Kingdom ! '
The familiar words of our Authorised Version — ' When
Thou comest into Thy Kingdom ' — convey the idea of
what we might call a more spiritual meaning of the peti
tion. But we can scarcely believe that at that moment
it implied either that Christ was then going into His King
dom, or that the ' penitent thief looked to Christ for ad
mission into the Heavenly Kingdom. The words are true
to the Jewish point of vision of the man. He recognised
and owned Jesus as the Messiah, and he did so, by a
wonderful forthgoing of faith, even in the utmost humilia
tion of Christ. And this immediately passed beyond the
Jewish standpoint, for he expected Jesus soon to come
back in His Kingly might and power, when he asked to be
remembered by Him in mercy. The answering assurance
of the Lord conveyed not only the comfort that his prayer
was answered, but the teaching of spiritual things which

'Crucified' 6ii
he so much needed to know. The ' penitent ' had spoken
of the future, Christ spoke of ' to-day ' ; the penitent had
prayed about that Messianic Kingdom which was to come,
Christ assured him in regard to the state of the disembodied
spirits, and conveyed to him the promise that he would be
there in the abode of the blessed — ' Paradise ' — and that
through means of Himself as the Messiah : ' Amen, I say
unto thee — To-day, with Me shalt thou be in the Paradise.'
Thus did Christ give him that spiritual knowledge which
he did not yet possess — the teaching concerning the ' to
day,' the need of admission into Paradise, and that with and
through Himself — in other words, concerning the forgive
ness of sins and the opening ofthe Kingdom of Heaven to all
believers. This, as the first and foundation-creed ofthe soul,
was the first and foundation-fact concerning the Messiah.
Some hours — probably two — had passed since Jesus
had been nailed to the Cross. We wonder how it came
that St. John, who tells us some of the incidents with
such exceeding particularity, and relates all with the vivid
realisation of a most deeply interested eyewitness, should
have been silent as to others — especially as to those hours
of derision, as well as to the conversion of the penitent
thief. His silence seems to us to have been due to absence
from the scene. We part company with him after his de-
• st. John tailed account of the last scene before J?ilate.a
xix. 2-16 Tlie final sentence pronounced, we suppose him
to have hurried into the City, and to have acquainted such
of the disciples as he might find — but especially those
faithful women and the Virgin-Mother — with what had
passed since the previous evening. Thence he returned to
Golgotha, just in time to witness the Crucifixion, which he
again describes with peculiar fulness of details.1*
-yv. 17-24 when the Saviour was nailed to the Cross, St.
John seems once more to have returned to the City — this
time to bring back with him those women, in company of
whom we now find him standing close to the Cross. Alone
of all the disciples, he is there — not afraid to be near
Christ, in the Palace of the High-Priest, before Pilate, and
now under the Cross. And alone he renders to Christ this
K a 2

612 Jesus the Messiah
tender service of bringing the women and Mary to the
Cross, and to them the protection of his guidance and com
pany. He loved Jesus best ; and it was fitting that to his
manliness and affection should be entrusted Christ's dan
gerous inheritance.
«st. John The narrative" leaves the impression that
xix- 25-27 ^th the beloved disciple these four women were
standing close to the Cross : the Mother of Jesus, the sister
of His Mother, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Mag-
"st Matt dala. A comparison with what is related by St.
^stMark Matthew b and St. Mark0 supplies further im-
xv. 40, 41 portant particulars. We read there of only three
women, the name of the Mother of our Lord being omitted.
But then it must be remembered that this refers to a later
period in the history of the Crucifixion. It seems as if
John had fulfilled to the letter the Lord's command : ' Be
hold thy mother,' and literally ' from that very hour ' taken
her to his own home. If we are right in this supposition,
then, in the absence of St. John — who led away the Virgin-
Mother from that scene of horror — the other three women
would withdraw to a distance, where we find them at the
end, not ' by the Cross,' as in St. John xix. 25, but < be
holding from afar,' and now joined by others also, who had
loved and followed Christ.
We further notice that, the name of the Virgin-
Mother being omitted, the other three are the same as
mentioned by St. John ; only, Mary of Clopas is now de
scribed as ' the mother of James and Joses,' and Christ's
« st. Mark ' Mother's sister ' as ' Salome ' d and ' the mother
• st. Mat- of Zebedee's children.' e Thus Salome, the wife
of Zebedee and St. John's mother, was the sister
of the Virgin, and the beloved disciple the cousin (on the
mother's side) of Jesus, and the nephew of the Virgin.
This also helps to explain why the care of the Mother had
been entrusted to him. Nor was Mary the wife of Clopas
unconnected with Jesus. What we have every reason to
regard as a trustworthy account describes Clopas as the
brother of Joseph, the husband of the Virgin. Thus, not
only Salome as the sister of the Virgin, but Mary also as

THE CRUCIFIXION

'Crucified' 613
the wife of Clopas, would, in a certain sense, have been
His aunt, and her sons His cousins. And so we notice
among the twelve Apostles five cousins of the Lord : the
two sons of Salome and Zebedee, and the three sons of
Alphseus or Clopas and Mary : James, Judas surnamed
Lebbasus and Thaddaeus, and Simon surnamed Zelotes or
Cananaean. For three hours had the Saviour hung on the Cross.
It was midday. And now the sun was craped in darkness
from the sixth to the ninth hour. It seems only in accord
ance with the Evangelic narrative to regard the occurrence
of this event as supernatural, while the event itself might
have been brought about by natural causes ; and among
these we must call special attention to the earthquake in
» st. Matt, which this darkness terminated." For it is a
xx™- 51 well-known phenomenon that such darkness not
unfrequently precedes earthquakes.
The darkness was such not only to Nature ; Jesus, also,
entered into darkness: Body, Soul, and Spirit. It was
now, not as before, a contest — but suffering. Into this, to
us, fathomless depth of the mystery of His Sufferings, we
dare not, as indeed we cannot, enter. It was of the Body ;
yet not of the Body only, but of physical life. The in
creasing, nameless agonies of the Crucifixion were deepen
ing into the bitterness of death. All nature shrinks from
death, and there is a physical horror of the separation
between body and soul which, as a purely natural pheno
menon, is in every instance only overcome, and that only
by a higher principle. And we conceive that, the purer
the being, the greater the violence of the tearing asunder
of the bond with which God Almighty originally bound
together body and soul. In the Perfect Man this must
have reached the highest degree. So, also, had in those
dark hours the sense of man-forsakenness and of His own
isolation from man; so, also, had the intense silence of
God, the withdrawal of God, the sense of His God-forsaken
ness and absolute loneliness. The sacrificial, vicarious,
expiatory, and redemptive character of His Death, if it
does not explain to us, yet helps us to understand, Christ's

614 Jesus the Messiah
sense of God-forsakenness in the supreme moment of the
Cross. It was the combination of the Old Testament idea of
sacrifice, and of the Old Testament ideal of willing suffer
ing as the Servant of Jehovah, now fulfilled in Christ,
which found its fullest expression in the language of the
twenty-second Psalm. It was fitting — rather, it was true —
that the willing suffering of the true Sacrifice should now
find vent in its opening words : ' My God, My God, why
hast Thou forsaken Me ? ' — Eli, Eli, lema sabacthanei ?
These words, cried with a loud voice at the close of the
period of extreme agony, marked the climax and the end
of this suffering of Christ, of which the utmost compass
was the withdrawal of God and the felt loneliness of the
Sufferer. But they that stood by the Cross, misinterpret
ing the meaning, and mistaking the opening words for the
name Elias, imagined that the Sufferer had called for Elias.
We can scarcely doubt that these were the soldiers who
stood by the Cross. They were not necessarily Romans ;
on the contrary, as we have seen, these Legions were
generally recruited from Provincials. On the other hand,
no Jew would have mistaken Eli for the name of Elijah,
nor yet misinterpreted a quotation of Psalm xxii. 1 as a
call for that prophet.
It can scarcely have been a minute or two from the
time that the cry from the twenty-second Psalm marked
the high-point of His Agony, when the words ' I thirst ' a
• st. John seem to indicate, by the prevalence of the merely
xix. 28 human aspect of the suffering, that the other and
more terrible aspect of sin-bearing and God-forsakenness
was past. To us therefore this seems the beginning, if
not of Victory, yet of Rest, of the End. St. John alone
records this Utterance, prefacing it with this distinctive
statement, that Jesus so surrendered Himself to the human
feeling, seeking the bodily relief by expressing His thirst :
'knowing that all things were now finished, that the
Scripture might be fulfilled.' In other words, the climax
of Theanthropic Suffering in His feeling of God-forsaken
ness, which had led to the utterance of Psalm xxii. 1, was

'Crucified' 615
now, to His consciousness, the end of all which in accord
ance with Scripture-prediction He had to bear.
One of the soldiers — may we not be allowed to believe,
one who either had already learned from that Cross, or was
about to learn, to own Him Lord — moved by sympathy,
now ran to offer some slight refreshment to the Sufferer by
filling a sponge with the rough wine of the soldiers and
putting it to His Lips, having first fastened it to the stem
(' reed ') of the caper (' hyssop '), which is said to grow to
the height of even two or three feet. But, even so, this
act of humanity was not allowed to pass unchallenged by
the others, who would bid him leave the relief of the
Sufferer to the agency of Elijah, which in their opinion
He had invoked. Nor should we perhaps wonder at the
• st. Matt weakness of that soldier himself, who, though he
«rst8' would not be hindered in his good deed, yet
Mark xv. 3G averted the opposition of the others by apparently
joining in their mockery. a
By accepting the physical refreshment offered Him, the
Lord once more indicated the completion of the work of
His Passion. For, as He would not enter on it with His
senses and physical consciousness lulled by narcotised wine,
so He would, not pass out of it with senses and physical
consciousness dulled by the absolute failure of life-power.
And so He immediately passed on to ' taste death for every
man.' For the two last ' sayings ' of the Saviour now
followed in rapid succession : first, that with a loud voice,
which expressed it, that the work given Him to do, as far
as concerned His Passion, was 'finished ; ' b and
then, that in the words of Psalm xxxi. 5, in
which He commended His Spirit into the Hands of the
« st Luk Father.0 Attempts at comment could only
weaken the solemn thoughts which the words
awaken. Yet some points should be noted for our teach
ing. His last cry ' with a loud voice ' was not like that
of one dying. St. Mark notes that this made such deep
a st. Mark impression on the Centurion."1 Christ encoun-
xv. 39 tered Death, not as conquered, but as the Con
queror. And with this agrees the peculiar language of

616 Jesus the Messiah
St. John, that He ' bowed the Head, and gave up the
Spirit.' Nor should we fail to mark the peculiarities of His last
Utterance. The 'My God' of the fourth Utterance had
again passed into the 'Father' of conscious fellowship.
That in dying — or rather meeting and overcoming Death
— He chose and adapted these words, is matter for deepest
thankfulness to the Church. They have been the last
words of a Polycarp, a Bernard, Huss, Luther, and
Melanchthon. And in ' the Spirit ' which He had com
mitted to God did He now descend into Hades, ' and
»i Pet iii preached unto the spirits in prison.'3 But
18> 19 behind this great mystery have closed the two-
leaved gates of brass, which only the Hand of the Conqueror
could burst open.
And now a shudder ran through Nature, as its Sun
had set. We follow the rapid outlines of the Evangelic
narrative. As the first token, it records the rending of
the Temple- Veil in two from the top downward to the
bottom ; as the second, the quaking of the earth, the
rending of the rocks and the opening of the graves.
Although most writers have regarded this as indicating the
strictly chronological succession, there is nothing in the
text to bind us to such a conclusion. Thus, while the
rending of the Veil is recorded first, as being the most signi
ficant token to Israel, it may have been connected with the
earthquake, although this alone might scarcely account for
the tearing of so heavy a Veil from the top to the bottom.
Even the latter circumstance has its significance. That
some great catastrophe, betokening the impending destruc
tion of the Temple, had occurred in the Sanctuary about
this very time, is confirmed by not less than four mutually
independent testimonies : those of Tacitus, of Josephus, of
the Talmud, and of earliest Christian tradition. The most
important of these are, of course, the Talmud and Josephus.
The latter speaks of the mysterious extinction of the middle
and chief light in the Golden Candlestick, forty years
before the destruction of the Temple ; and both he and the
Talmud refer to a supernatural opening by themselves of

'Dead' 617
the great Temple-gates that had been previously closed,
which was regarded as a portent of the coming destruction
of the Temple. We can scarcely doubt that some historical
fact must underlie so widespread a tradition, and we cannot
help feeling that it may be a distorted version of the occur
rence of the rending of the Temple- Veil (or of its report)
at the Crucifixion of Christ.
But even if the rending of the Temple-Veil had com
menced with the earthquake, and, according to the Gospel
to the Hebrews, with the breaking of the great lintel
over the entrance, it could not be wholly accounted for in
this manner. According to Jewish tradition, there were
indeed two Veils before the entrance to the Most Holy
Place. These were so heavy, that, in the exaggerated
language of the time, it needed 300 priests to manipulate
each. If the Veil was at all such as is described in the
Talmud, it could not have been rent in twain by a mere
earthquake or the fall of the lintel, although its composi
tion in squares fastened together might explain how the
rent might be as described in the Gospel.
As we compute, it may just have been the time when,
at the Evening-Sacrifice, the officiating Priesthood entered
the Holy Place, either to burn the incense or to do other
sacred service there. To see before them the Veil of the
Holy Place rent from top to bottom- — that beyond it they
could scarcely have seen — and hanging in two parts from
its fastenings above and at the side, was indeed a terrible
portent, which would soon become generally known, and
must, in some form or other, have been preserved in tradi
tion. And they all must have understood that it meant
that God's Own Hand had rent the Veil, and for ever
deserted and thrown open that Most Holy Place where He
had so long dwelt in the mysterious gloom, only lit up
once a year by the glow of the censer of him who made
atonement for the sins of the people.
Other tokens were not wanting. In the earthquake
the rocks were rent, and their tombs opened. This, as
Christ descended into Hades. And when He ascended on
the third day, it was with victorious saints who had left

6i8 Jesus the Messiah
those open graves. To many in the Holy City on that ever-
memorable first day, and in the week that followed, ap
peared the bodies of many of those saints who had fallen
on sleep in the hope of that which had now become reality.
But on those who stood under the Cross, and near it,
did all that was witnessed make the most lasting impres
sion. Among them we specially mark the Centurion under
whose command the soldiers had been. Many a scene of
horror must he have witnessed, but none like this. Only
one conclusion could force itself on his mind. It was that
which, we cannot doubt, had made its impression on his
heart and conscience. Jesus was not what the Jews, His
infuriated enemies, had described Him. He was what He
professed to be, what His bearing on the Cross and His
Death attested Him to be : ' righteous,' and hence, ' the
Son of God.' From this there was only a step to personal
allegiance to Him, and we may possibly owe to the Cen
turion some of those details which St. Luke alone has
preserved. The brief spring-day was verging towards the ' evening
of the Sabbath.' In general, the law ordered that the
body of a criminal should not be left hanging unburied
over night.a Perhaps in ordinary circumstances
¦Deut.xxi. 23 y^ jewg might not have appealed so confidently
to Pilate as actually to ask him to shorten the sufferings
of those on the Cross, since the punishment of crucifixion
often lasted not only for hours but days, ere death ensued.
But here was a special occasion. The Sabbath about to
open was a ' high-day ' — it was both a Sabbath and the
second Paschal Day, which was regarded as in every respect
equally sacred with the first — nay, more so, since the so-
called Wavesheaf was then offered to the Lord. And what
the Jews now proposed to Pilate was, indeed, a shortening,
but not in any sense a mitigation, of the punishment.
Sometimes there was added to the punishment of crucifixion
that of breaking the bones (crurifragium) by means of a
club or hammer. This would not itself bring death, but
the breaking of the bones was always followed by a coup
de grdce, by sword, lance, or stroke, which immediately

'Dead' 6ig
put an end to what remained of life. Thus the 'breaking
of the bones ' was a sort of increase of punishment, by
way of compensation for its shortening by the final stroke
that followed.
St. John alone records how Pilate acceded to the Jewish
demand, and gave directions for the crurifragium, and
permission for the after-removal of the dead bodies, which
otherwise might have been left to hang, till putrescence or
birds of prey had destroyed them. But St. John also tells
us what he evidently regards as so great a prodigy that he
specially vouches for it, pledging his own veracity as an
eyewitness, and grounding on it an appeal to the faith of
those to whom his Gospel is addressed. It is, that certain
' things came to pass [not as in our A.V., ' were done ']
that the Scripture should be fulfilled,' or, to put it other
wise, by which the Scripture was fulfilled. These things
were two, to which a third phenomenon, not less remark
able, must be added. For, first, when the soldiers had
broken the bones of the two malefactors, and then came to
the Cross of Jesus, they found that He was dead already,
and so ' a bone of Him ' was ' not broken.' Had it been
otherwise, the Scripture concerning the Paschal Lamb,a
•Ex. xii. 46; as well as that concerning the Righteous Suffer-
^-Pixxxiv2 ing Servant of Jehovah, b would not have been
20 accomplished. And this outward fact served as
the finger to point to the predictions which were fulfilled
in Him. Not less remarkable is the second fact. If, on the
Cross of Christ, these two fundamental ideas in the pro
phetic description of the work of the Messiah had been
set forth : the fulfilment of the Paschal Sacrifice, which, as
that of the Covenant, underlay all sacrifices, and the fulfil
ment of the ideal ofthe Righteous Servant of God, suffering
in a world that hated God, and yet proclaiming and realis
ing His Kingdom, a third truth remained to be exhibited.
This had been indicated in the prophecies of Zechariah,0
which foretold how, in the day of Israel's final
ec .xii. deliverance and national conversion, God would
pour out the spirit of grace and of supplication, and as

620 Jesus the Messiah
' they shall look on Him Whom they pierced,' the spirit of
true repentance would be granted them, alike nationally
and individually. The application of this to Christ is the
more striking, that even the Talmud refers the prophecy
to the Messiah. And as these two things really applied to
Christ, alike in His rejection and in His future return,*
so did the strange historical occurrence at His
Crucifixion once more point to it as the fulfilment
of Scripture prophecy. For although the soldiers, on find
ing Jesus dead, broke not one of His Bones, yet, as it was
necessary to make sure of His Death, one of them with a
lance 'pierced His Side,' with a wound so deep, that
» st. John Thomas might afterwards have thrust his hand
**-27 into His Side.b
And with these two, as fulfilling Holy Scripture, yet a
third phenom anon was associated, symbolic of both. As the
soldier pierced the Side of the Dead Christ, ' forthwith came
thereout Blood and Water.' It has been thought by some,
that there was physical cause for this — that Christ had
literally died of a broken heart. In such case, the lesson
would be that reproach had broken His Heart.0
But we can scarcely believe that St. John could
have wished to convey this without clearly setting it forth.
We rather believe that to St. John, as to most of us, the
significance of the fact lay in this, that out of the Body of
One dead had flowed Blood and Water — that corruption
had not fastened on Him. To the symbolic bearing of the
flowing of Water and Blood from His pierced Side, on
6 Wni°-a the Evangelist dwells in his Epistle,4 and to
its eternal expression in the symbolism of the two
Sacraments, we can only point the thoughtful Christian.
Yet one other scene remains to be recorded. Whether
before, or, more probably, after the Jewish deputation to
the Roman Governor, another and a strange application
came to Pilate. It was from one apparently well known,
a man not only of wealth and standing,e but who
thew was known as a just and a good man,' Joseph
of Arimathasa was a' Sanhedrist, but he had not
consented either to the counsel or the deed of his col-

THE CARRYING TO THE TOMB.

'And Buried' 621
leagues. It must have been generally known that he was
one of those ' which waited for the Kingdom of God.' But
he had advanced beyond what that expression implies.
Although secretly, for fear of the Jews," he
' was a disciple of Jesus. It is in strange contrast
to this * fear,' that St. Mark tells us that, ' having dared,'
' he went in unto Pilate and asked for the Body of Jesus.'
No longer a secret disciple, but bold in the avowal of his
reverent love, he would show to the Dead Body of his
Master all veneration. It was Friday afternoon, and the
Sabbath was drawing near. No time therefore was to be
lost, if due honour were to be paid to the Sacred Body.
Pilate gave it to Joseph of Arimathaea. Such was within
his power, and a favour not unfrequently accorded in like
circumstances. But two things must have powerfully
impressed the Roman Governor, and deepened his former
thoughts about Jesus : first, that the death on the Cross
had taken place so rapidly, a circumstance on which he
personally questioned the Centurion,b and then
st. Mark ^e fold appearance and request of such a man as
Joseph of Arimathaea. Or did the Centurion express to
the Governor also some such feeling as that which had found
utterance under the Cross in the words : ' Truly this Man
was the Son of God ' ?
The proximity ofthe holy Sabbath, and the consequent
need of haste, may have suggested or determined the
proposal of Joseph to lay the Body of Jesus in his own
new tomb, wherein no one had yet been laid.0
These rock-hewn sepulchres, and the mode of
laying the dead in them, have been already fully described
in connection with the burying of Lazarus. We may
therefore wholly surrender ourselves to the sacred thoughts
that gather around us. The Cross was lowered and laid
on the ground ; the nails drawn out, and the ropes un
loosed. Joseph, with those who attended him, 'wrapped'
the Sacred Body 'in a clean linen cloth,' and rapidly
carried It to the rock-hewn tomb in the garden close
by. Such a tomb or cave had niches where the dead were
laid. It will be remembered, that at the entrance to ' the

622 Jesus the Messiah
tomb ' — -and within ' the rock ' — there was ' a court,' nine
feet square, where ordinarily the bier was deposited, and
its bearers gathered to do the last offices for the Dead.
Thither we suppose Joseph to have carried the Sacred
Body, and then the last scene to have taken place. For
now another, kindred to Joseph in spirit, history, and
position, had come. We remember how at the first
Nicodemus had, from fear of detection, come to Jesus by
night, and with what bated breath he had pleaded with
his colleagues not so much the cause ot Christ, as on His
» st John behalf that of law and justice.3. He now came,
vu. so bringing ' a roll ' of myrrh and aloes, in the
fragrant mixture well known to the Jews for purposes of
anointing or burying.
It was in ' the court ' of the tomb that the hasty em
balmment — if such it may be called — took place. None
of Christ's former disciples seem to have taken part in the
burying. Only a few faithful ones,b notably
among them Mary Magdalene and the other
Mary, the mother of Joses, stood over against the tomb,
watching at some distance where and how the Body of
Jesus was laid. It would scarcely have been in accordance
with Jewish manners, if these women had mingled more
closely with the two Sanhedrists and their attendants.
From where they stood they could only have had a dim
view of what passed within the court, and this may explain
how, on their return, they ' prepared spices and oint
ments '" for the more full honours which they
hoped to pay the Dead after the Sabbath was
past. For it is of the greatest importance to remember
that haste characterised all that was done. It seems as if
the ' clean linen cloth ' in which the Body had been
wrapped, was now torn into ' cloths ' or swathes, into
which the Body, limb by limb, was now ' bound,1 no doubt
between layers of myrrh and aloes, the Head being wrapped
in a napkin. And so they laid Him to rest in the niche
of the rock-hewn new tomb. And as they went out, they
rolled, as was the custom, a ' great stone ' to close the en
trance to the tomb, probably leaning against it for support,

THE ENTOMBMENT.

'And Buried' 623
as was the practice, a smaller stone. It would be where
the one stone was laid against the other, that on the next
day, Sabbath though it was, the Jewish authorities would
have affixed the seal, so that the slightest disturbance
might become apparent.
' It was probably about the same time, that a noisy throng
prepared to follow delegates from the Sanhedrin to the
ceremony of cutting the Passover-sheaf. The Law had it,
" he shall bring a sheaf [literally, the Omer] with the first-
fruits of your harvest, unto the priest ; and he shall wave
the Omer before Jehovah, to be accepted for you." This
Passover-sheaf was reaped in public the evening before it
was offered, and it was to witness this ceremony that the
crowd had gathered around the elders. . . . But as this
festive procession started amidst loud demonstrations, a
small band of mourners turned from having laid their dead
Master in His resting-place. . . . And yet, not in the
Temple, nor by the priest, but in the silence of that
garden-tomb, was the first Omer of the new Paschal flour
to be waved before the Lord.' '
'Now on the morrow, which is after the preparation
[the Friday], the chief priests and the Pharisees were
gathered together unto Pilate, saying, Sir, we remember
that that deceiver said, while He was yet alive, After three
days I rise again. Command, therefore, that the sepulchre
be made sure until the third day, lest haply His disciples
come and steal Him away, and say unto the people, He is
risen from the dead : so the last error shall be worse than
the first. Pilate said unto them, Take a guard, go your
way, make it as sure as ye can. So they went, and made
the sepulchre sure, sealing the stone, the guard being with
them.' Behind Him had closed the Gates of Hades ; but upon
them rather than upon Him had fallen the Shades of
Death. Yet His Disciples still love Him, and stronger
than death was love.
1 See ' The Temple and its Services,' pp. 221-224.

624 Jesus the Messiah
CHAPTER LXXXVI.
ON THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST FROM THE DEAD.
The history of the Life of Christ upon earth closes with a
Miracle as great as that of its inception. It may be said
that the one casts light upon the other. If He was what
the Gospels represent Him, He must have been born of a
pure Virgin, without sin, and He must have risen from the
Dead. If the story of His Birth be true, we can believe
that of His Resurrection ; if that of His Resurrection be
true, we can believe that of His Birth. In the nature of
things, the latter was incapable of strict historical proofs ;
and in the nature of things, His Resurrection demanded
and was capable of the fullest historical evidence. If such
exists, the keystone is given to the arch ; the miraculous
Birth becomes almost a necessary postulate, and Jesus is
the Christ in the full sense of the Gospels. And yet we
mark, as another parallel point between the account of the
miraculous Birth and that of the Resurrection, the utter
absence of details as regards these events themselves. If
this circumstance may be taken as indirect evidence that
they were not legendary, it also imposes on us the duty of
observing the reverent s lence so well-befitting the case,
and of not intruding beyond the path which the Evangelic
narrative has opened to us.
What thoughts concerning the Dead Christ filled the
minds of Joseph of Arimathaea, of Nicodemus, and of the
other disciples of Jesus, as well as of the Apostles and of
the pious women ? They believed Him to be dead, and
they did not expect Him to rise again from the dead — at
least in our accepted sense of it. Of this there is abundant
evidence from the moment of His Death : in the burial-
spices brought by Nicodemus, in those prepared by the
women (both of which were intended as against corruption),
in the sorrow of the women at the empty tomb, in their
supposition that the Body had been removed, in the per
plexity and bearing of the Apostles, in the doubts of so

On the Resurrection 625
many, and indeed in the express statement, ' For as yet
they knew not the Scripture, that He must rise again from
• st John the dead.'a And the notice in St. Matthew's
?stMatt Gospel ,b that the Sanhedrists had taken precau-
xxvm. 62-66 tions against His Body being stolen, so as to
give the appearance of fulfilment to His prediction that
He would rise again after three days — that, therefore, they
knew of such a prediction, and took it in the literal sense
— would give only more emphasis to the opposite bearing
of the disciples and their manifest non-expectancy of a
literal Resurrection. What the disciples expected, per
haps wished, was not Christ's return in glorified corporeity,
but His Second Coming in glory into His Kingdom.
But if they regarded Him as really dead and not to rise
again in the literal sense, this had evidently no practical
effect, not only on their former feelings towards Him, but
even on their faith in Him as the promised Messiah. This
appears from the conduct of Joseph and Nicodemus, from
the language of the women, and from the whole bearing of
the Apostles and disciples. All this must have been very
different, if they had regarded the Death of Christ, even
on the Cross, as having given the lie to His Messianic
claims. The fact of the Resurrection itself would be quite
foreign to Jewish ideas, which embraced the continuance
of the soul after death and the final resurrection of the
body, but not a state of spiritual corporeity, far less under
conditions such as those described in the Gospels. Clearly,
the Apostleshad not learned the Resurrection of Christ either
from the Scriptures — and this proves that the narrative
of it was not intended as a fulfilment of previous expectancy
— nor yet from the predictions of Christ to that effect;
although without the one, and especially without the
other, the empty grave would scarcely have wrought in
them the assured conviction of the Resurrection.
Hence, the question to be faced is this : Considering
their previous state of mind and the absence of any motive,
how are we to account for the change of mind on the part
of the disciples in regard to the Resurrection ? There can
at least be no question that they came to believe, and with
s s

626 Jesus the Messiah
the most absolute certitude, in the Resurrection as an
historical fact ; nor yet, that it formed the basis and sub
stance of all their preaching of the Kingdom ; nor yet,
that St. Paul, up to his conversion a bitter enemy of
Christ, was fully persuaded of it ; nor — to go a step back
— that Jesus Himself expected it. Indeed, the world
would not have been converted to a dead Jewish Christ,
however His intimate disciples might have continued to
love His memory. But they preached everywhere, first
and foremost, the Resurrection from the dead. In the
language of St. Paul : ' If Christ hath not been raised, then
is our preaching vain, your faith also is vain. Yea, and
we are found false witnesses of God ... ye are yet in
. 1 Cor CT your sins.' a We must here dismiss what pro-
14, is, 17 fcably underlies the chief objection to the Resur
rection : its miraculous character. The objection to
Miracles, as such, proceeds on that false Supranaturalism,
which traces a miracle to the immediate fiat of the Almighty
without any intervening links ; and, as already shown, it
involves a vicious petitio principii. But, after all, the
Miraculous is only the to us unprecedented and uncog-
nisable — a very narrow basis on which to refuse historical
investigation. And the historian has to account for the
undoubted fact, that the Resurrection was the fundamental
personal conviction of the Apostles and disciples, the
basis of their preaching, and the final support of their
martyrdom.

627

CHAPTER LXXXVIL
'on the third day he rose again from the dead; he
ascended into heaven.'
(St. Matt, xxviii. 1-10 ; St. Mark xvi. 1-11 ; St. Luke xxiv. 1-12 ; St.
John xx. 1-18 ; St. Matt, xxviii. 11-15 j St. Mark xvi. 12, 13 ; St.
Luke xxiv. 13-35 ; 1 Cor. xv. 5 ; St. Mark xvi. 14 ; St. Luke xxiv. 36-
43; St. John xx. 19-25; 26-29; St. Matt, xxviii. 16; St. John xxi.
1-24; St. Matt, xxviii. 17-20; St. Mark xvi. 15-18; 1 Cor. xv. 6;
St. Luke xxiv. 44-63 ; St. Mark xvi. 19, 20 ; Acts i. 3-12.)
Grey dawn was streaking the sky, when they who had so
lovingly watched Him to His Burying were making their
way to the rock-hewn Tomb in the Garden.
The difference, if such it may be called, in the recorded
names of the women who at early morn went to the Tomb,
scarcely requires elaborate discussion. It may have been
that there were two parties, starting from different places
to meet at the Tomb, and that this also accounts for the
slight difference in the details of what they saw and heard
at the Grave. At any rate, the mention of the two Maries
• st Luke and Joanna is supplemented in St. Luke" by
J3dT- 10 that of ' the other women with them,' while, if
» st John St. John speaks only of Mary Magdalene,b her
11 x report to Peter and John : ' We know not where
they have laid Him,' implies that she had not gone alone
to the Tomb. It was the first day of the week — according
to Jewish reckoning the third day from His Death. The
narrative leaves the impression that the Sabbath's rest had
delayed their visit to the Tomb ; but it is at least a curious
coincidence that the relatives and friends of the deceased
were in the habit of going to the grave up to the third clay
(when presumably corruption was supposed to begin) so as
to make sure that those laid there were really dead.
1 . Whether or not there were two groups of women who
started from different places to meet at the Tomb, the most
prominent figure among them was Mary Magdalene — as
prominent among the pious women as Peter was among
the Apostles. She seems to have first reached the Grave,
s s 2

628 Jesus the Messiah
and, seeing the great stone that had covered its entrance
rolled away, hastily judged that the Body of the Lord had
been removed. Without waiting for further inquiry, she
ran back to inform Peter and John of the fact. The Evan
gelist here explains that there had been a great earthquake,
and that the Angel of the Lord, to human sight as light
ning and in brilliant white garment, had rolled back the
stone and sat upon it, when the guard, affrighted by what
they heard and saw, and especially by the look and attitude
of heavenly power in the Angel, had been seized with
mortal faintness. Remembering the events connected with
the Crucifixion, which had no doubt been talked about
among the soldiery, and bearing in mind the impression of
such a sight on such minds, we could readily understand
the effect on the two sentries who that long night had kept
guard over the Tomb. The event itself (we mean : as re
gards the rolling away of the stone), we suppose to have
taken place after the Resurrection of Christ, in the early
dawn, while the holy women were on their way to the
Tomb. The earthquake cannot have been one in the ordi
nary sense, but a shaking of the place, when the Lord of
Life burst the gates of Hades to re-tenant His Glorified
Body, and the lightning-like Angel descended from heaven
to roll away the stone. But there is a sublime irony in
the contrast between man's elaborate precautions and the
ease with which the Divine Hand can sweep them aside,
and which, as throughout the history of the Christ and of
His Church, recalls the prophetic declaration : ' He that
sitteth in the heavens shall laugh at them.'
While the Magdalene hastened, probably by another
road, to the abode of Peter and John, the other women
also had reached the Tomb, either in one party, or it may
be, in two companies. They had wondered and feared how
they could accomplish their pious purpose — for who would
roll away the stone for them ? But, as so often, the diffi
culty apprehended no longer existed. Perhaps they thought
that the now absent Mary Magdalene had obtained help
for this. At any rate, they entered the vestibule of the
Sepulchre. Here the appearance of the Angel filled them

'He Rose again from the Dead' 629
with fear. But the heavenly Messenger bade them dis
miss apprehension ; he told them that Christ was not there,
nor yet any longer dead, but risen, as indeed He had
foretold in Galilee to His disciples ; finally, he bade them
hasten with the announcement to the disciples, and with
this message, that as Christ had directed them before they
were to meet Him in Galilee.
The main reason, and that which explains the other
wise strange, almost exclusive, prominence given at such
a moment to the direction to meet Christ in Galilee, has
already been indicated in a previous chapter. With the
scattering of the Eleven in Gethsemane on the night of
Christ's betrayal, the Apostolic College was temporarily
broken up. They continued, indeed, still to meet together
as individual disciples, but the bond of the Apostolate was,
for the moment, dissolved. And the Apostolic circle was to
be re-formed, and the Apostolic Commission renewed and
enlarged, in Galilee ; not, indeed, by its Lake, where only
» st John seven of the Eleven seem to have been present,"
f It 2MsM_ but on the mountain where He had directed them
cxviii- 16 to meet Him.b Thus was the end to be like the
beginning. Where He had first called and directed them
for their work, there would He again call them, give fullest
directions, and bestow new and amplest powers. His
appearances in Jerusalem were intended to prepare them
for all this, to assure them completely of the fact of His
Resurrection — the full teaching of which would be given
in Galilee. And when the women, perplexed and scarcely
conscious, obeyed the command to go in and examine for
themselves the now empty niche in the Tomb, they saw
two Angels — probably as the Magdalene afterwards saw
them — one at the head, the other at the feet, where the
Body of Jesus had lain. They waited no longer, but
hastened, without speaking to any one, to carry to the dis
ciples the tidings of which they could not even yet grasp
the full import.
2. Whatever unclearness of detail may rest on the
narratives of the Synoptists, owing to their great com
pression, all is distinct when we follow the steps of the

630 Jesus the Messiah
Magdalene, as these are traced in the fourth Gospel.
Hastening from the Tomb, she ran to the lodging of Peter
and to that of John — the repetition of the preposition ' to '
probably marking that the two occupied different, although
perhaps closely adjoining, quarters. Her startling tidings
induced them to go at once — ' and they went towards the
Sepulchre.' ' But they began to run, the two together '—
probably so soon as they were outside the town and near
' the Garden.' John, as the younger, outran Peter,
Reaching the Sepulchre first, and stooping down, ' he
seeth ' the linen clothes, but, from his position, not the
napkin which lay apart by itself. If reverence and awe
prevented John from entering the Sepulchre, his impulsive
companion, who arrived immediately after him, thought of
nothing else than the immediate and full clearing up of
the mystery. As he entered the Sepulchre, he ' steadfastly
(intently) beholds ' in one place the linen swathes that had
bound the Sacred Limbs, and in another the napkin that
had been about His Head. There was no sign of haste,
but all was orderly, leaving the impression of One Who
had leisurely divested Himself of what no longer befitted
Him. Soon ' the other disciple ' followed Peter. The
effect of what he saw was that he now believed in his heart
that the Master was risen — for till then they had not yet
derived from Holy Scripture the knowledge that He must
rise again. It was not the belief previously derived from
Scripture, that the Christ was to rise from the Dead, which
led to expectancy of it, but the evidence that He had risen
which led them to the knowledge of what Scripture taught
on the subject.
3. Yet whatever light had risen in the inmost sanc
tuary of John's heart, he spake not his thoughts to the
Magdalene, whether she had reached the Sepulchre ere
the two left it, or met them by the way. The two Apostles
returned to their home, either feeling that nothing more
could be learned at the Tomb, or to wait for further teach
ing and guidance. Or it might even have been partly due
to a desire not to draw needless attention to the empty
Tomb. But the love of the Magdalene could not rest satis-

THE APPEARANCE TO MARY.

'He Rose again from the Dead' 631
fied, while doubt hung over the fate of His Sacred Body.
It must be remembered that she knew only of the empty
Tomb. , For a time she gave way to the agony of her' sor
row ; then, as she wiped away her tears, she stooped to
take one more look into the Tomb, which she thought
empty, when, as she ' intently gazed,' the Tomb seemed no
longer empty. At the head and feet, where the Sacred
Body had lain, were seated two Angels in white. Their
question, so deeply true from their knowledge that Christ
had risen : ' Woman, why weepest thou ? ' seems to have
come upon the Magdalene with such overpowering sudden
ness, that, without being able to realise who it was that
had asked it, she spake, bent only on obtaining the infor
mation she sought : ' Because they have taken away my
Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him.'
But already, as she spake, she became conscious of
another Presence close to her. Quickly turning round,
' she gazed ' on One Whom she recognised not, but re
garded as the gardener, from His presence there and from
His question : ' Woman, why weepest thou ? Whom
seekest thou ? ' The hope that she might now learn what
she sought, gave to her words intensity and pathos. If
the supposed gardener had borne to another place the
Sacred Body, she would take It away, if she only knew
where It was laid. This depth and agony of love, which
made the Magdalene forget even the restraints of a Jewish
woman's intercourse with a stranger, was the key that
opened the Lips of Jesus. A moment's pause, and He
spake her name in those well- remembered accents, that had
first unbound her from sevenfold demoniac power and
called her into a new life. It was as another unbinding,
another call into a new life. She had not known His
appearance, just as the others did not know Him at first.
so unlike, and yet so like, was the glorified Body to that
which they had known. But she could not mistake the
Voice when It spake her name.
Perhaps we may here be allowed to pause, and, from
the non-recognition of the Risen Lord till He spoke, ask
this question : With what body shall we rise ? Like or

632 Jesus the Messiah
unlike the past ? Assuredly, most like. Our bodies will
then be true ; for the soul will body itself forth according
to its past history — not only impress itself, as now on
the features, but express itself, so that a man may be
known by what he is, and as what he is. And the Christ
also must have borne in His glorified Body all that He
was, all that even His most intimate disciples had not
known or understood while He was with them, and which
they even now failed at first to recognise, but knew at
once when He spake to them.
It was precisely this which now prompted the action of
the Magdalene — prompted also, and explains, the answer
of the Lord. As in her name she recognised His Name,
the rush of old feeling came over her, and with the familiar
' Rabboni ! ' — my Master — she would fain have grasped
Him. Probably she was not at the moment distinctly
conscious of the impulse which prompted her action. But
whatever it may have been there was but one answer :
' Touch Me not, for I am not yet ascended to the Father.'
Not the Jesus appearing from heaven — for He had not yet
ascended to the Father ; not the former intercourse, not
the former homage and worship. There was yet a future
of completion before Him in the Ascension, of which,Mary
knew not. Let her rather go and tell His 'brethren'
of the Ascension. So would she best and most truly tell
them that she had seen Him ; so also would they best learn
how the Resurrection linked the past of His Work of love
for them to the future : ' I ascend unto My Father and,
your Father, and to My God, and your God.'
4. Yet another scene on that Easter morning does
St. Matthew relate, in explanation of how the well-known
Jewish calumny had arisen that the disciples had stolen
away the Body of Jesus. He tells how the guard had re
ported to the chief priests what had happened, and how
they in turn had bribed the guard to spread this rumour,
at the same time promising that, if the fictitious account of
their having slept while the disciples robbed the Sepulchre
should reach Pilate, they would intercede on their behalf.
Whatever else may be said, we know that from the time

'He Rose again from the Dead' 633
of Justin Martyr this has been the Jewish explanation.
Of late, however, it has among thoughtful Jewish writers
given place to the so-called ' Vision-hypothesis.'
5. It was the early afternoon of that spring-day, per
haps soon after the early meal, when two men from that
circle of disciples left the City. Their narrative affords
deeply interesting glimpses into the circle of the Church
in those first days. The impression conveyed to us is of
utter bewilderment, in which only some things stood out
unshaken and firm : love to the Person of Jesus ; love
among the brethren ; mutual confidence and fellowship ;
together with a dim hope of something yet to come — if
not Christ in His Kingdom, yet some manifestation of,
or approach to it.
These two men had on that very day been in communi
cation with Peter and John. ' The women ' had come to
tell of the empty Tomb and of their vision of Angels, who
said that He was alive. But as yet the Apostles had no
explanation to offer. Peter and John had gone to see for
themselves. They had brought back confirmation of the
report that the Tomb was empty, but they had seen neither
Angels nor Him Whom they were said to have declared
alive. And, although the two had evidently left the circle
of the disciples, if not Jerusalem, before the Magdalene
came, yet we know that even her account did not
• st. Mark carry conviction to the minds of those that
*"¦ u heard it.a
Of the two, who on that early spring afternoon left the
City in company, we know that one bore the name of
Cleopas. The other, unnamed, has for that very reason,
and because the narrative of that work bears in its vivid
ness the character of personal recollection, been identified
with St. Luke himself. If so, then, as has been finely
remarked,1 each of the Gospels would, like a picture, bear
in some dim corner the indication of its author : the first,
that of ' the publican ; ' that by St. Mark, that of the
young man who in the night of the Betrayal had fled
from his captors ; that of St. Luke, in the companion of
1 By Godet.

634 Jesus the Messiah
Cleopas ; and that of St. John, in the disciple whom Jesus
loved. Uncertainty, almost equal to that about the second
traveller to Emniaus, rests on the identification of that
place. But such great probability attaches, if not to the
exact spot, yet to the locality, or rather the valley, that
we may in imagination follow the two companions on
their road.
We leave the City by the Western Gate. A rapid pro
gress for about twenty-five minutes, and we have reached
the edge of the plateau. Other twenty-five or thirty
minutes — passing here and there country-houses — and we
pause to look back on the wide prospect far as Bethle
hem. A short quarter of an hour more, and we have left
the well-paved Roman road and are heading up a lovely
valley. The path gently climbs in a north-westerly direc
tion, with the height on which Emmaus stands prominently
before us. About equidistant are, on the right Lifta, on
the left Kolonieh. The roads from these two, describing
almost a semicircle (the one to the north-west, the other to
the north-east), meet about a quarter of a mile to the south
of Emmaus. Along the course of the stream, which low in
the valley is crossed by a bridge, are scented orange- and
lemon-gardens, olive-groves, fruit trees, pleasant enclosures,
bright dwellings, and on the height lovely Emmaus. A sweet
spot to which to wander on that spring afternoon ; a most
suitable place where to meet such companionship, and to
find such teaching, as on that Easter Day.
It may have been where the two roads from Lifta and
Kolonieh meet, that the mysterious Stranger, Whom they
knew not, their eyes being ' holden,' joined the two friends.
Yet all these six or seven miles their converse had been of
Him, and even now their faces bore the marks of sadness
on account of those events of which they had been speak
ing — disappointed hopes, all the more bitter for the per
plexing tidings about the empty Tomb and the absent
Body of the Christ. To the question of the Stranger about
the topics of a conversation which had so visibly affected
them, they replied in language which shows that they were
so absorbed by it themselves, as scarcely to understand

ON THE ROAD TO EMMAUS.

'He Rose again from the Dead' 635
how even a festive pilgrim and stranger in Jerusalem could
have failed to know it, or to perceive its supreme importance.
Yet, strangely unsympathetic as from His question He
might seem, there was that in His Appearance which un
locked their inmost hearts. They told Him their thoughts
about this Jesus; how He had showed Himself a Prophet
mighty in deed and word before God and all the people ;
then, how their rulers had crucified Him ; and lastly, how
fresh perplexity had come to them from the tidings which
the women had brought, and which Peter and John had so
far confirmed, but were unable to explain. Their words
were almost childlike in their simplicity, and with a crav
ing for guidance and comfort that goes straight to the
heart. To such souls it was that the Risen Saviour would
give His first teaching. The very rebuke with which He
opened it must have brought its comfort. Did not the
Scriptures with one voice teach this twofold truth about
the Messiah, that He was to suffer and to enter into His
glory ? Then why wonder — why not rather expect, that
He had suffered, and that Angels had proclaimed Him
alive again ?
He spake it, and fresh hope sprang up in their hearts,
new thoughts rose in their minds. Their eager gaze was
fastened on Him as He now opened up, one by one, the
Scriptures, from Moses and all the prophets, and in each
well-remembered passage interpreted to them the things
concerning Himself. All too quickly fled the moments.
The brief space was traversed, and the Stranger seemed
about to pass on from Emmaus — not feigning it. but really :
for the Christ will only abide with us if our longing and
loving constrain Him. But they could not part with Him.
' They constrained Him.' Love made them ingenious. It
was toward evening; the day was far spent; He must even
abide with them.
The Master allowed Himself to be constrained. He
went in to be their guest, as they thought, for the night.
The evening-meal was spread. He sat down with them
to the frugal board. And now He was no longer the
Stranger; He was the Master. No one asked or ques-

6^6 Jesus the Messiah
tioned, as He took the bread and spake the words of
blessing, then breaking, gave it to them. But that mo
ment it was as if an unfelt hand had been taken from
their eyelids, as if suddenly the film had been cleared
from their sight. And as they knew Him, He vanished
from their view — for that which He had come to do had
been done.
6. That same afternoon, in circumstances and manner
» 1 Cor xv 5 *° us unknown, the Lord had appeared to Peter.a
We may perhaps suggest that it was after His
manifestation at Emmaus. This would complete the cycle
of mercy : first, to the loving sorrow of the woman ; next,
to the loving perplexity of the disciples ; then, to the
anxious heart of the stricken Peter — last, in the circle of
the Apostles, which was again drawing together around
the assured fact of His Resurrection.
7. These two in Emmaus could not have kept the good
tidings to themselves. Even if they had not remembered
the sorrow and perplexity in which they had left their
fellow-disciples in Jerusalem that forenoon, they could not
have remained in Emmaus, but must have gone to their
brethren in the City. So they left the uneaten meal, and
hastened back the road they had travelled with the now
well-known Stranger.
They knew well the trysting-place where to find ' the
Twelve' — nay, not the Twelve now, but 'the Eleven,'
and even thus their circle was not complete, for, as already
stated, it was broken up, and at least Thomas was not with
the others on that Easter-Evening ofthe first ' Lord's Day.'
» st Luke But, as St. Luke is careful to inform us,b with
xxiv. 83 them were the others who then associated with
them. When the two from Emmaus arrived, they found the
little band as sheep sheltering within the fold from the
storm. Whether because they apprehended persecution
simply as disciples, or because the tidings of the empty
Tomb which had reached the authorities would stir the
fears of the Sanhedrists, special precautions had been taken.
The outer and inner doors were shut, alike to conceal their

•He Rose again from the Dead' 637
gathering and to prevent surprise. But those assembled
were now sure of at least one thing : Christ was risen.
And when they from Emmaus told their wondrous story,
the others could reply by relating how He had appeared,
not only to the Magdalene, but also to Peter. And still
they seem not yet to have understood His Resurrection ; to
have regarded it as rather an Ascension to Heaven, from
which He had made manifestation, than as the reappear
ance of His real, though glorified Corporeity.
• st. Mark They were sitting at meat a — if we may infer
rvi 14 from the notice of St. Mark, and from what hap
pened immediately afterwards, discussing, not without con
siderable doubt and misgiving, the real import of these
appearances of Christ. That to the Magdalene seems to
have been put aside — at least, it is not mentioned ; and
even in regard to the others, they seem to have been con
sidered, at any rate by some, rather as what we might call
spectral appearances. But all at once He stood in the
midst of them. The common salutation fell on their hearts!
at first with terror rather than joy. They had spoken of
spectral appearances, and now they believed they were
' gazing ' on ' a spirit.' This the Saviour first, and once
for all, corrected, by the exhibition of the glorified marks
of His Sacred Wounds, and by bidding them handle Him
to convince themselves that His was a real Body, and
what they saw not a disembodied spirit. The unbelief of
doubt now gave place to the not daring to believe all that
it meant for very gladness, and for wondering whether
there could now be any longer fellowship or bond between
this Risen Christ and them in their bodies. It was to
remove this also, which was equally unbelief, that the
Saviour now partook before them of their supper of broiled
fish, thus holding with them true human fellowship as of
old. It was this lesson of His continuity — in the strictest
sense — with the past, which was required in order that the
Church might be, so to speak, reconstituted now in the
Name, Power, and Spirit of the Risen One Who had lived
and died. Ouce more He spake the ' Peace be. unto you! '

638 Jesus the Messiah
and now it was to them not occasion of doubt or fear, but
the well-known salutation of their old Lord and Master.
It was followed by the re-gathering and constituting of
the Church as that of Jesus Christ, the Risen One. ' As
the Father has sent Me [in the past, for His Mission was
completed], even so send I you [in the constant present,
till His Coming again].' This marks the threefold relation
of the Church to the Son, to the Father, and to the world,
and her position in it. And so it was that He made it a
very real, commission when He breathed on them, not in
dividually but as an assembly, and said : ' Take ye the
Holy Ghost ; ' and this, manifestly not in the absolute
sense, since the Holy Ghost was not yet given, but as the
connecting link with, and the qualification for the autho
rity bestowed on the Church.
It still remains to explain, so far as we can, these two
points : in what this power of forgiving and retaining sins
consists, and in what manner it resides in the Church. In
regard to the former we must first inquire what idea it
would convey to those to whom Christ spake the words.
It has already been explained, that the power of ' loosing '
and ' binding ' referred to the legislative authority claimed
by, and conceded to the Rabbinic College. In the true
sense, therefore, this is rather administrative, disciplinary
power, ' the power of the keys ' — such as St. Paul would
have had the Corinthian Church put in force — the power
of admission and exclusion, of the authoritative declaration
of the forgiveness of sins. And ye't it is not, as is some
times represented, ' absolution from sin,' which belongs
only to God and to Christ as Head of the Church, but
absolution of the sinner, which He has delegated to His
Church : ' Whosesoever sins ye forgive, they are forgiven.'
These words also teach us that what the Rabbis claimed
in virtue of their office, that the Lord bestowed on His
Church in virtue of her receiving, and of the indwelling of
the Holy Ghost.
In answering the second question proposed, we must
bear in mind one important point. The power of ' binding'
and ' loosing ' had been primarily committed to the

'He Rose again from the Dead' 639
Apostles,"- and exercised by them in connection with the
. st Matt Church.b On the other hand, that of forgiving
XTi-..1'| and retaining sins, in the sense explained, was
>> Acts xv. primarily bestowed on the Church, and exercised
22 23 iii ii • i a 1
• i cor. v. by her through her representatives, the Apostles,
s Cor a s* 10 an^ those to whom they committed rule.0 Al
though, therefore, the Lord on that night com
mitted this power to His Church, it was in the person of
her representatives and rulers. The Apostles alone could
exercise legislative functions, but the Church has to the
end of time ' the power of the keys.'
8. There had been absent from the circle of disciples
on that Easter-Evening one of the Apostles, Thomas.
Even when told of the marvellous events at that gathering,
he refused to believe, unless he had personal and sensuous
evidence of the truth of the report. It can scarcely have
been that Thomas did not believe in the fact that Christ's
Body had quitted the Tomb, or that He had really appeared.
But he held fast by whau we may term the spectral theory.
A quiet week had passed, during which — and this also
may be for^Our twofold learning — the Apostles excluded
not Thomas, nor yet Thomas withdrew from the Apostles.
Once more the day of days had come — the Octave of the
Feast. The disciples were again gathered, under circum
stances precisely similar to those of Easter, but now
Thomas was also with them. Once more — and it is again
specially marked : ' the doors being shut ' — the Risen
Saviour appeared in the midst of the disciples with the
well-known salutation. He now offered to Thomas the
demanded evidence ; but it was no longer either needed or
sought. With a full rush of feeling he yielded himself to
the conviction, which, once formed, must immediately have
passed into act of adoration : ' My Lord and my God ! '
We remember how, under similar circumstances, Nathanael
astJohn had been the first to utter fullest confession. d
i. 45-51 -^ye ajso remember the analogous reply of the
Saviour. As then, so now, He pointed to the higher : to
a faith which was not the outcome of sight, and therefore
limited and bounded by sight, whether of the senses or of

640 Jesus the Messiah
perception by the intellect. As one has remarked : ' This
last and greatest of the Beatitudes is the peculiar heritage
of the later Church' ' — and thus most aptly comes as the
consecration gift of that Church.
9. The next scene presented to us is once again by the
Lake of Galilee. The manifestation to Thomas, and with
it the restoration of unity in the Apostolic Circle, had
»st John originally concluded the Gospel of St. John.3, But
xx. 30, 31 £he report which had spread in the early Church,
that the Disciple whom Jesus loved was not to die, led
him to add to his Gospel, by way of Appendix, an account
of the events with which this expectancy had connected
itself. The history itself sparkles like a gem in its own pecu
liar setting. It is of green Galilee, and of the blue Lake,
and recalls the early days and scenes of this history. As
»st Ma«. St. Matthew has it,b 'the eleven disciples went
xxviii. 16 away into Galilee ' — probably immediately after
that Octave of the Easter. It can scarcely be doubted that
they made known not only the fact of the Resurrection,
but the trysting which the Risen One had given them — ¦
perhaps at that Mountain where He had spoken His first
• st. Matt. 'Sermon.' And so it was that ' some doubted,' c
xxviii. 17 an{j that He afterwards appeared to the five
di cor. xv. 6 nim(lre(j at 0nce.d But on that morning there
were by the Lake of Tiberias only seven of the disciples,
and but five of them are named. They are those who most
closely kept in company with Him — perhaps also they who
lived nearest the Lake.
The scene is introduced by Peter's proposal to go a-
fishing. It seems as if the old habits had come back to
them with the old associations. Peter's companions natu
rally proposed to join him. All that still, clear night they
were on the Lake, but caught nothing. Early morning
was breaking when on the pebbly ' beach ' there stood the
Figure of One Whom they recognised not — nay, not even
when He spake. Yet His Words were intended to bring
them this knowledge. The direction to cast the net to the
1 Canon Westcott.

'He Rose again from the Dead' 641
right side of the ship brought them, as He had said, the
haul for which they had toiled all night in vain. And
more than this : such a multitude of fishes, that they were
not able to draw up the net into the ship. This was
enough for 'the disciple whom Jesus loved.' He whis
pered it to Peter : ' It is the Lord,' and Simon, only
gathering about him his fisher's upper garment, cast him
self into the sea. Yet even so, except to be sooner by the
side of Christ, Peter seems to have gained nothing by his
haste. The others, leaving the ship, and transferring
themselves to a small boat, which must have been attached
to it, followed, rowing the short distance of about one
hundred yards, and dragging after them the net, weighted
with the fishes.
They stepped on the beach, hallowed by His Presence,
in silence, as if they had entered Church or Temple. They
dared not even dispose of the netful of fishes which they
had dragged on shore, until He directed them what to do.
This only they noticed, that some unseen hand had pre
pared the morning-meal, which, when asked by the Master,
they had admitted they had not of their own. And now
Jesus directed them to bring the fish they had caught.
When Peter dragged up the weighted net it was found
full of great fishes, not less than a hundred and fifty-three
in number. On the fire of coals there seems to have been
only one fish, and beside it but one bread. To this meal He
now bade them, for they seem still to have hung back in
reverent awe, nor durst they ask Him Who He was, well
knowing it was the Lord. This, as St. John notes, was
the third appearance of Christ to the disciples as a body.
10. And still this morning of blessing was not ended.
The simple meal was past, with all its significance of just
sufficient provision for His Servants, and abundant supply
in the unbroken net beside them. But some special teach
ing was needed, more even than that to Thomas, for him
whose work was to be so prominent among the Apostles,
whose love was so ardent, and yet in its very ardour so
full of danger to himself. Had Peter not confessed, quite
honestly, yet, as the event proved, mistakingly, that his
T T

642 Jesus the Messiah
love to Christ would endure even an ordeal that would dis
perse all the others ? a And had he not, almost immediately
» st. Matt afterwards, and though prophetically warned of
stjohn it, thrice denied his Lord ? Jesus had, indeed,
xiu. 37 since then appeared specially to Peter as the
Risen One. But this threefold denial still stood, as it were,
uncancelled before the other disciples, nay, before Peter
himself. It was to this that the threefold question ofthe
Risen Lord now referred. Turning to Peter, with pointed
though most gentle allusion to the danger of self-confidence,
He asked : ' Simon, son of Jona ' — as it were with fullest
reference to what he was naturally — ' lovest thou Me more
than these ? ' Peter understood it all. No longer with
confidence in self, avoiding the former reference to the
others, and even with marked choice of a different word to
express his affection from that which the Saviour had used,
he replied, appealing rather to his Lord's than to his own
consciousness : ' Yea, Lord, Thou knowest that I love Thee.'
And even here the answer of Christ is characteristic. It
was to set him first the humblest work, that which needed
most tender care and patience : ' Feed [provide with food]
My Lambs.'
Yet a second time came the same question, although
now without the reference to the others, and with the same
answer by Peter, the now varied and enlarged commission :
' Feed [shepherd] My Sheep.' Yet a third time did Jesus
repeat the same question, now adopting in it the very word
which Peter had used to express his affection. Peter was
grieved at this threefold repetition. It recalled only too
bitterly his threefold denial. And yet the Lord was not
doubtful of Peter's love, for each time He followed up His
question with a fresh Apostolic commission. But now that
He put it for the third time, Peter would have the Lord
send down the sounding-line quite into the lowest deep ot
his heart : ' Lord, Thou knowest all things — Thou perceiv-
est that I love Thee ! ' And then the Saviour spake it :
'Feed [provide food for] My Sheep.' His Lambs, His
Sheep, to be provided for, to be tended as such : only love
can do such service.

'He Rose again from the Dead' 643
Yes, and Peter did love the Lord Jesus. And Jesus
saw it all — and how this love of the ardent temperament
which had once made him rove at wild liberty, would give
place to patient work of love, and be crowned with that
martyrdom which, when the beloved disciple wrote, was
already matter of the past. And the very manner of death
by which he was to glorify God was indicated in the words
of Jesus. As He spake them, He joined the symbolic action to
His ' Follow Me.' .This command, and the encouragement
of being in death literally made like Him- -following Him —
were Peter's best strength. He obeyed ; but as he turned
to do so, he saw another following. As St. John himself
puts it, it seems almost to convey that he had longed to
share Peter's call, with all that it implied. For St. John
speaks of himself as the disciple whom Jesus loved, and he
reminds us that in that night of betrayal he had been
specially a sharer with Peter, nay, had spoken what the
other had silently asked of him. Was it impatience, was
it a touch of the old Peter, or was it a simple inquiry of
brotherly interest which prompted the question, as he
pointed to John : ' Lord — and this man, what ? ' What
ever had been the motive, to him, as to us all, when, per
plexed about those who seem to follow Christ, we ask it —
sometimes in bigoted narrowness, sometimes in ignorance,
folly, or jealousy — is this the answer : ' What is that to
thee ? follow thou Me.' For John also had his life-work
for Christ. It was to ' tarry ' while He was coming — to
tarry those many years in patient labour, while Christ
was coming.
But what did it mean? The saying went abroad
among the brethren that John was not to die, but to tarry
till Jesus came again to reign, when death would be
swallowed up in victory. But Jesus had not so said, only :
u If I will that he tarry while I am coming.' What that
' Coming ' was, Jesus had not said, and John knew not.
So, then, there are things, and connected with His Coming,
which Jesus means us not to know at present, and which
we should be content to leave as He has left them.

644 Jesus the Messiah
1 1 . Beyond this narrative we have only briefest notices :
by St. Paul, of Christ manifesting Himself to James, which
probably finally decided him for Christ, and of His mani
festation to the five hundred at once ; by St. Matthew, of
the Eleven meeting Him at the mountain, where He had
appointed them ; by St. Luke, of the teaching in the
Scriptures during the forty days of communication between
the Risen Christ and the disciples.
But this twofold testimony comes to us from St.
Matthew and St. Mark, that then the worshipping disciples
were once more formed into the Apostolic Circle — Apostles
now of the Risen Christ. And this was the warrant of
their new commission : ' All power (authority) has been
given to Me in heaven and on earth.' And this was their
new commission : ' Go ye, therefore, and make disciples of
all the nations, baptising them into the Name of the Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.' And this was
their work : ' Teaching them to observe all things whatso
ever I commanded you.' And this is His final and sure
promise : ' And lo, I am with you alway, even unto the
end of the world.'
12. We are once more in Jerusalem, whither He had
bidden them go to tarry for the fulfilment of the great
promise. The Pentecost was drawing nigh. And on that
last day — the day of His Ascension — He led them forth to
the well-remembered Bethany. From where He had made
His last triumphal Entry into Jerusalem before His Cruci
fixion, would fie make His triumphal Entry visibly into
Heaven. Once more would they have asked Him about
that which seemed to them the final consummation — the
restoration ofthe Kingdom to Israel. But such questions
became them not. Theirs was to be work, not rest ;
suffering, not triumph. The great promise before them
was of spiritual, not outward, power : of the Holy Ghost —
and their call not yet to reign with Him, but to bear
witness for Him. And as He so spake, fie lifted His
Hands in blessing upon them, and, as He was visibly
taken up, a cloud received Him. And still they gazed,
with upturned faces, on that luminous cloud which had

THE ASCENSION.

Jesus the Messiah- 645
received Him, and two Angels spake to them this last
message from Him, that He should so come in like man
ner — as they had beheld Him going into heaven.
And so their last question to Him, ere He had parted
from them, was also answered, and with blessed assurance.
Reverently they worshipped Him ; then, with secret joy,
returned to Jerusalem. So it was all true, all real — and
Christ ' sat down at the Right Hand of God.'
Henceforth, neither doubting, ashamed, nor yet afraid,
they 'were continually in the Temple, blessing God.'
' And they went forth and preached everywhere, the Lord
working with them, and confirming the word by the signs
that followed. Amen.'

THE END.

ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & CO.,
182 Fifth Avenue, New York.

The Divine Origin of Christianity Indicated by its His
torical Effects. By R. S. Storrs, D.D., LL.D. 8vo,
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These lectures are neither metaphysical nor theological in their char
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writings, and with no preliminary examination of the authenticity of their
reputed authorship, traces the various influences exerted by Christianity
over the spiritual, social, moral, mental, and political life of mankind. . . .
As an impartial and scholarly survey of the history of humanitarianism
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is wider in its range and more comprehensive in its treatment of the
subject than any other similar volume heretofore published. The skilful
marshalling of this vast array of facts so as to support, illustrate, and
fortify the argument advanced by the author, makes the book a most
brilliant contribution to the literature of Christian apologetics.
The Sensualistic Philosophy of the XIX. Century. Con
sidered by R. L. Dabney, D.D., L.L.D. New and enlarged
edition. 8vo. Cloth. $2.50.
" The author begins historically by reviewing the sensualistic philoso
phy of previous centuries, tracing it from Hobbes, through Locke and
his school in England, and Voltaire and his fellow-philosophers in France,
to what the author considers its natural result in French Atheism and
the reign of terror. He then traces its revival in Hume and the Mills
to its second development, as he views it, in the evolution philosophy of
Darwin and Spencer and the atheism of Buchner. The chief line of refu
tation, however, is in the attempt to establish the opposite system of
rational philosophy. The author vindicates the intuitive powers of the
soul, and restates the argument from design in view of the evolutionist
objects. "

Anson D. F. Randolph Sr Co.'s Publications.
The Mystery of God. By T. Vincent Tymms. 8vo, cloth,
uncut, gilt top. #2.50.
An attempt to remove some of the hindrances which the intellect
throws in the way of faith. The subjects are Materialism, Pantheism.
Theism, Oracles of God, Person of Christ, and the Life of Faith. A
brilliant, candid, and fresh discussion of great truths.
William Tyndale's Five Books of Moses, called the
Pentateuch. Printed a.d. 1530. Reprinted verbatim froti
the copy in the Lenox Library, and collated with the edition oi
1534, "Matthew's Bible" of 1537, Stephani " Biblia " of 1528
and Luther's " Das Alte Testament" of 1523; together with
the Chapter Summaries and Marginal Notes from " Matthew's
Bible," the Marginal Notes of Luther, and. Prolegomena. By
J. I. Mombert, D.D. The first edition, printed on large paper,
consisted of 500 copies, each copy numbered. Of this edition
300 copies have been sold. Royal octavo. 774 pages. Cloth.
$3.50 net.
This is a reprint of one of the rarest books in the English language.
There are only two complete copies of the original known, one of which
is in the British Museum, the other in the Lenox Library. Dr. Mombert
has spared neither pains nor time to make this an accurate reprint ad
verbatim et literatim. In the comparison of the transcript with the
original and the reading of the proofs, he was aided by Drs. Allibone and
Culross. The book will have an added value since the appearance of
the Revised Version of the Old Testament, as affording an opportunity
for comparing the latest with the first translation of the Pentateuch from
the original Hebrew.
The Ten Theophanies ; or, The Appearances of our Lord to
Men before His Birth in Bethlehem. By Rev. William M.
Baker. i2mo. Cloth. 75 cents net.
" The author takes up the appearances of God before the Advent, and
shows how in them the Son of God presented himself in his different
offices. He came as the Friend to Abram, as the Source of Law to
Moses, as the Commander to Joshua. He is the Liberator to Gideon,
the Master of Force to Manoah. He shows his control of Providence to
Ezekiel, and is the World-conqueror and Revealer to Daniel. All these
parts of Christ's offices are dwelt upon with earnestness by the author,
and Scripture and history alike are used to furnish the proof of each
assertion."

Anson D. F. Randolph Gr Co.'s Publications.
The Imitation of Christ, by Thomas Kempis. (Musica
Ecclesiastica.) Now for the first time set forth in rhythmic
sentences, according to the original intention of the author, with
a Preface by the translator, and an Introductory Note by H. P.
Liddon, D.D., D.C.L., Canon and Chancellor of St. Paul's.
320 pages. Limited large-paper ed., small 8vo, half cloth, uncut,
$5.00; cheaper ed., i6mo, jSl.oo.
The present edition is the first attempt made in any living language to
give a rhythmical form and a proper rendering to the Latin as Thomas
Kempis left it. The volume was not written in simple prose, but in a
rhythm, more or less exact. The student who knows the book needs not
to be told of this ; but it may be said to the general reader that Thomas
Kempis's contemporaries were acquainted with the rhythmic form of the
work. This is shown by a MS. of the Imitation at Brussels, written soon
after Thomas Kempis's death, and called "The little book known as
Church Music " ; and also by the fact that Adrian de But, a contemporary
of Thomas, speaks of his having written " a certain volume in metre :
He who followeth Me." This is the Imitation.
Life of Samuel Wilberforce, Bishop of Oxford and
Winchester. By his son, Reginald Wilberforce. Revised
from the original work, with additions. With portrait. i2mo.
Cloth, fi.75.
This volume is not a reprint, nor merely an abridged edition of the
larger work completed six years ago, for new matter is added; and
although considerable excisions have been made, yet the parts omitted
are not personal matters. . . . Everything, as far as possible, has been
retained, which delineates his character in its gradual growth, and shows
the steps, toilsome and arduous as they were, which he trod in his way
through this world. — From the Preface.
Prophecy and History in Relation to the Messiah. The
Warburton Lectures for 1 880-1 884, with two Appendices on the
Arrangement, Analysis, and Recent Criticism ofthe Pentateuch.
By Alfred Edersheim, M.A. Oxon., D.D., Ph.D., author
of " The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah." Royal 8vo.
Cloth. $1.75.
The purpose of these twelve lectures is to show that Christ was the
fulfilment of the Old Testament Messianic prophecies. Here, as in his
other books, the author's intimate acquaintance with the Talmudic and
Rabbinical writings has enabled him to discuss the subject in a peculiarly
interesting manner, while he has brought to the preparation of the lec
tures an exhaustive knowledge of the literature of the subject.

Anson D. F. Randolph Sr Co.'s Publications.
The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah. By Alfred
Edersheim, M.A. Oxon., D.D., PIlD. 2 vols., royal 8vo.
Cloth. $6.00 net.
The author of this remarkable book is a clergyman of the Church of
England who, educated in the Jewish faith, was subsequently converted
to Christianity. His aim was to write a history of our Lord which shall
so present the laws, customs, habits, topography of places, and situation
of temples, and other historic buildings synchronous with His life on
earth, that the reader may be transported into that time, and feel that the
Gospel presents a real historical scene. The author's previous training
and religious belief have eminently qualified him for this task. His inti
mate acquaintance with' Hebrew customs and manners, and above all
with Rabbinical learning, has enabled him to extract from that vast
treasure of erudition, of which all except a few specialists are wholly
ignorant, such splendid and precious material as will serve to illumine
and render more vivid and realistic the Gospel narrative. Accordingly,
the reader will find in this work all of that learned and careful study and
grouping of particulars which makes a rationalistic life of Jesus — like
that of Keim, for example — so interesting, and in some respects instruc
tive, combined with that larger, loftier, and nobler comprehension of Jesus
Christ which harmonizes, not only with that class of representations in
the Gospels which are arbitrarily explained away and got rid of by the
rationalist, but also with the effects in the world that have been produced
by Jesus Christ.
The Wisdom of the Apocalypse. By J. H. McIlvaine,
D.D. , author of " The Wisdom of Holy Scripture." 8vo. Cloth.
$1.00 net.
In form this treatise is a running commentary of the book, and suffers
somewhat for the want of summaries, recapitulation, general index, a
table of the book, or recapitulation of the author's conception of it. To
offset this, however, is the gain of literary attractiveness and flow for the
general reader. . . .
The author is neither a futurist nor a preterist in his scheme of inter
pretation. . . . The striking characteristic of the exposition is judicious
moderation. The object of his search, as indicated by his title, is the
" Wisdom " of the book, and not a chase after trifles. The result is, that
we lay down the volume with a feeling of satisfaction that the Apocalypse
is not, after all, as blind, barren, or puzzling as its illuminated expositors
have made it out, and that the wisdom of God has illustrated itself in
these, its closing revelations, both in the richness and wholly unique
value of what it has disclosed, and in the way in which these things which
are reserved have been left. — Independent.

Anson D. F. Randolph Gr Co.'s Publications.
Fifty Years of English Song. Selections from the Poets of
the Reign of Victoria. With biographical and explanatory
notes. Edited and arranged by Henry F-Randolph. Vol. I.
The Earlier Poets. The Blackwood Coterie and Earlier Scotch
Poets. The Poets of Young Ireland. Vol. II. The Poets of
the First Half of the Reign. The Novelist Poets. Vol. III.
The Poets of the Second Half of the Reign. The Writers of
Vers de Socie"te\ Vol. IV. The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.
The Ballad and Song Writers. The Religious Poets. 4 vols.
i2mo. Cloth, $5.00; nalf ca-lf> $10.00. Large-paper edition.
Small 8vo. Limited to 250 copies. $10.00. Specimen pages
sent on application.
Each volume is prefixed with complete biographical and bibliographi
cal notes, and fully indexed. . . . Another valuable feature of the volumes
are the explanatory notes, which give the approximate number of lines
contained in each poem not printed in full, an outline of the story, if any,
and a description of the purpose of the poem, so that it is possible from
a perusal of the note and selections to form an intelligent opinion of the
poem itself. The volumes differ from the ordinary anthology in that the
selections have been made with a view to exhibiting the characteristics of
each particular author represented, thereby furnishing a knowledge of
the general tendency and scope of English poetry during the last fifty
years. We praised last year on its appearance the " Fifty Years of English
Song." This anthology of the Victorian era we found to be admirably
selected and annotated, and most carefully printed. ... It has since
been, with good reason, thought worthy of promotion into a large-paper
edition in the same number of volumes, but with a limitation to two
hundred and fifty copies. The result is an extremely dainty set. — ¦
N. Y. Evening Post.
Evenings with the Sacred Poets. A Series of Quiet Talks
about the Singers and their Songs. With an Appendix on
Hymnology. By F. Saunders. i2mo. Cloth. New and
enlarged edition, $1.50 net; half calf, extra, $2.00 net.
The scope of the work is comprehensive, and presents in a succinct
form the essence of much that is most interesting in anecdote and historic
illustration referring to sacred poetry and hymnology, while the editing
is marked by exquisite taste, extensive reading, and rare familiarity with
bibliography.

Anson D. F, Randolph &¦ Co.'s Publications.
Historical Memorials of Westminster Abbey. By Arthur
Penrhyn Stanley, D.D., late Dean of Westminster. New
and cheaper edition, with illustrations. 2 vols. i2mo. Cloth.
$3.00.This is one of the historical classics of the English language, which
covers a great field of history as only Dean Stanley could cover it with
his noble sympathies, his fine historical feeling, and the beauty and
variety of his style. No one was better fitted to write a history of West
minster Abbey than the man who for so long added one more to its many
glories by being its Dean. None knew it more thoroughly or loved it
more truly, and none could more readily command access to its archives
and secure the hearty co-operation of writers and archaeologists who had
made the Abbey their special study.
Historical Memorials of Canterbury. The Landing of
Augustine — The Murder of Becket — Edward the -Black Prince
— Becket's Shrine. By Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, D.D.,
late Dean of Westminster, formerly Canon of Canterbury. First
American from the eleventh London edition. With etched por
trait of the Author and other illustrations. Large-paper edition.
Small 8vo. Limited to 600 copies and uniform with the edition
of Westminster Abbey. Half cloth. $3.00. New and cheaper
edition. i2mo. Cloth. $1.50.
It appeared to the author that some additional details might be con
tributed to some of the most remarkable events in English history by an
almost necessary familiarity with the scenes on which those events took
place . . . and possible that a comparative stranger might throw some
new light on local antiquities, even when they have been so well explored
as those of Canterbury. — From Author's Preface.
The Life of Mrs. Godolphin. By John Evelyn, of Wooton,
Esq. New edition. Edited by Edward William Harcourt,
of Nuneham Park, Oxon., Esq. With etched portrait of Mrs.
Godolphin. Printed at the Chiswick Press on hand-made paper.
i2mo. Vellum cloth. $2.50.
" It was not for gentle descent or noble alliance that Margaret Godol
phin was the most remarkable or best deserves remembrance. Rather
did she add distinction to an ancient line, and transmit to all her posterity
that memory of her virtues and inheritance of good deeds without which
titles and hereditary rank are but splendid contradictions and conspicuous
blemishes."

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