■:i,:i*> ... . 4^i^JLiS^M^ ■**fc L I B M A Tl Y Theological Seminary, PRINCETON, N. J Shelf Bool.- Div.s,on.J&.S.^4.S-.Q. Sectl9n»Gr3'..2/ , .:....v.^ THE LIFE AND WORDS OF CHRIST. ^ (^ VJ ^ THE LIFE AND WOKDS CHEIST. CUNNINGHAM '^GEIKIE, D.D 'The life was the Light op Men." — John i. 4. VOL. II. NEW YORK: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 549 & 561 BEOADWAT. 1877. CONTENTS. CHAPTEK PAGES XXXin. Capernaum 1 — 17 XXXrV. Light AND Darkness 18 — 39 XXXV. The Choice or the Twelve, and the Sermon ON the Mount 40 — 57 XXXVI. The Sermon on the Mount (continued) . . 58 — 72 XXXVII. The Sermon on the Mount (concluded) . . 73 — 90 XXXVIII. Open Conflict 91—108 XXXIX. Galilee 109—121 XL. Darkening Shadows — Life in Galilee . . 122 — 13G XLI. The Bursting of the Storm . , . 137 — 152 XLII. After the Storm 153 — 169 XLIII. Dark and Bright 170—189 XLIV. The Turn of the Day ..... 190—212 XLV. The Coasts of the Heathen .... 213 — 230 XLVI. In Flight once more 231 — 247 XLVII. The Transfiguration 248—262 XL VIII. Before the Feast 263 — 277 XLIX. At the Feast of Tabernacles .... 278 — 295 L. After the Feast ...... 296 — 308 LI. The last Month of the Year .... 309 — 324 LII. A Wandering Life 325 — 343 LIII. InPerea 344—366 LIV. In Perea (continued) 367 — 392 LV. Palm Sunday 393—415 LVI. .Jerusalem ...... 416 — 432 IV CONTENTS. CHAPTER LVII. The Interval .... LVIII. Farewell to Friends LIX. The Farewell .... LX. The Arrest .... LXI. The Jewish Trtat. LXII. Before Pilate .... LXIII. Judas — The Crucifixion . LXIV. The Resurrection and the Forty Days Notes to Volume II. ... Index of Subjects .... Index of Texts .... pages 433—453 454—476 477—499 500—515 516—530 531—554 555—579 580—608 609—643 645—658 C59— 670 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAPTER XXXIII. CAPERNAUM. THE final " call " addressed to Peter and his brother, cHAP^xxxra. and to James and John, at the Lake of Galilee, apparently insignificant as an event, proved to have been, in reality, one of the turning points in the history of the world. The " call " of Abraham had given the world, as an everlasting inheritance, the grand truth of a Living Per- sonal God ; that of ]\Ioses had created a nation, in which the active government of human affairs by one God was to be illustrated, and His will made known directly to man- kind ; but that of the poor Galilajan fishermen was the foundation of a society, for which all that had preceded it was only the preparation ; a society in which all that was merely outward and temporary m the relations of God to man, should be laid aside, and all that was imperfect and material replaced by the perfect, spiritual, and abiding. The true theocracy, towards which mankind had been slowly ad- vancing, through ages, had received its first overt establish- ment, when Peter heard, on his knees, the summons of Jesus to follow Him, and had, with the others, at once, from the heart, obeyed. Henceforth, it only remained to extend the kingdom thus founded, by winning the consciences of men to the same devotion, by the announcement of the Father- hood of God ; the need of seeking His favour by repent- ance ; and faith in His divine Son, leading to a holy life, of which that of Jesus, as the Saviour-Messiah, was the reahzed ideal. VOL. II. 40 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP. XXXUL Ewald, Geschichte, T. 366. From the shores of the Lake, Christ went to the house of Peter, accepting his invitation to share his hospitahty. The little town itself, with its two or three thousand in- hil)itants, was surrounded by a wall, and lay partly along the shore ; some of the houses close to the water ; others with a garden between it and them. The black lava, or basalt, of which all were built, was universally whitewashed, so that the town was seen to fine effect, from a distance, through the green of its numerous trees and gardens. Peter's house- hold consisted of his wife, and her mother — doubtless a widow — whom his kindly nature had brought to this second home, Andrew, his brother, and, now, of Jesus, his guest. James and John, hkely, still lived with their father, in Capernaum, and the whole four still followed their calling in the intervals of attending their new Master. " It appears to have been on a Friday that Jesus summoned Peter and his companions.^ The day passed, doubtless, in further work for the kingdom. As the sun set, the beginning of the Sabbath Avas announced by three blasts of a trumpet, from the roof of the spacious synagogue of the town, which the devout commandant of the garrison, though not a Jew, had built for the people. The first blast warned the peasants, in the far-stretching vineyards and gardens, to cease their toil ; the second was the signal for the townsfolks to close their business for the week, and the third, for all to kindle the holy Sabbath light, which was to burn till the sacred day was past.^ It was the early spring, and the days were stiU short, for even in summer it is hardly morning twilight, in Palestine, at four, and the Tag,in Winer, light is gonc by eiglit.^ Jesus did not, however, go that night to Peter's house, but spent the hours in solitary devotion.^ We can fancy, from what is elsewhere told us, that the day closed while He still spoke to a hstening crowd, under some palm-tree, or by the wayside. As the moon rose beyond the hills, on the other side of the Lake, He would dismiss His hearers, with words of comfort, and a greeting of peace, and then turn to the silent hills behind, to be alone with His Heavenly Father. On their lonely heights, the noise of men lay far beneath Him, and He could find rest, after Talmad ; quoted by Sepp, u. 2; IN THE SYNAGOGUE. 3 the toils of tlie day. A wide panorama of land and water cHAP.xsxtu. stretched away on all sides, in the white moonlight. He was Himself its centre, and gazed on it with inexpressible sjTapathy and emotion. We can imagine Him, spreading out His arms, as if to take it all to His heart, and then pros- trating Himself, as it w^ere with it, before God, to intercede for it with the Eternal; His brow touching the earth in lowly abasement, while he pleaded for man as His friend and brother, in words of infinite love and tenderness. " Rising, erelong, in strong emotion, it would seem as if He held up the world in His lifted hands, to offer it to His Father. He spoke, was silent, then spoke again. His prayer was holy inter-communion with God. At first low, and almost in a whisper. His voice gradually became loud and joyous, till it echoed back from the rocks around Him. Thus the night passed, till morning broke and found Him, once more prostrate as if overcome, in silent devotion, but the daAvn of day was the signal for His rising, and passing down again to the abodes of men." * ' c^e^iSi, The morning service in the synagogue began at nine, and as the news of the great Rabbi being in the neighbourhood ■ had spread, every one strove to attend, in hopes of seeing Him. Women came to it by back streets, as was required of them; the men, with slow Sabbath steps, gathered in great numbers. The elders had taken their seats, and the Reader had recited the Eighteen Prayers — the congi-ega- tion answering vnth their Amen, — for though the prayers might be abridged on other daj-s, they could not be shortened on the Sabbath.* The first lesson for the day ^ Taimnd,in followed, the people rising and turning reverently towards the Shrine, and chanting the words after the Reader. Another lesson then followed, and the Reader, at its close, called on Jesus, as a Rabbi present in the congi-egation, to speak from it to the people. His words must have sounded strangely new and attrac- tive, for, apart from their vi\-idness and force, they spoke of matters of the most vital interest, which the Rabbis left wholly untouched. He had founded the kingdom of God, and now sought to build it up by realizing its conditions in the souls THE LIFE or CHRIST. CHAP, xsxin of men, -who should each, forthwith, be living centres of influence on others. But a coui'se so retired, and unknown to the Avorld at large, as that which He followed, of speaking to modest assemblies in local synagogues, makes it easy to understand how His life might be overlooked by the public writers of the age. Yet, in the little world in which He moved, the noiseless words by which He carried on His work created an intense impression. He gave old truths an unwonted freshness of presentation, and added much that sounded entirely new, on His own authority, instead of confining Himself, like the Rabbis, to lifeless repetitions of traditional commonplaces, delivered with a dread of the least deviation or originality. They claimed no power to say a word of their own ; He spoke with a startling inde- pendence. Their synagogue sermons, as we see in the Book of Jubilees, were a tiresome iteration of the minutest Rab- binical rules, with a serious importance which regarded them as the basis of all moral order. The kind, and quality of wood for the altar; the infinite details of the law of tithes ; the moral deadliness of the use of blood ; or the indispensableness of circumcision on the eighth day, were urged with passionate zeal as momentous and fun- damental truths. The morality and religion of the age had sunk thus low, and hence, the fervid words of Jesus, stirring the depths of the heart, created profound excitement in Capernaum. Men were amazed at the phenomenon of novelty, in a rehgious sphere so unchangeably conservative as that of the synagogue. " New teaching," said one to the other, "and with authority — not like other Rabbis. They only repeat the old : this man takes on Him to speak without reference to the past." But if they were astonished at His « Mark 1.22. teaching,^ they wei'e still more so at the power which He revealed in connection with it. Among those who had gone to the synagogue that morning was an unhappy man, the victim of a calamity incident apparently to the age of Christ and the Apostles only." He was "possessed by a spii'it of » Luke 4. 33. an unclean demon." "' Our utter ignorance of the spiritual world leaves the significance of such words a mystery, though the popular idea of the time is handed down by the Rabbis. CtTRE OF ONE POSSESSED. 5 An unclean demon, in the language of Christ's day, was an chap. xxxm. evU. spirit that drove the person possessed, to haunt burial- places, and other spots most unclean in the eyes of Jews. There were men who affected the black art, pretending, like the witch of Endor, to raise the dead, and, for that end, lodging in tombs, and macerating themselves with fasting, to secure the fuUer aid and inspiration of such evil spirits ; and others into whom the demons entered, driving them in- voluntarily to these dismal habitations.^ Both classes were • Ligiitfoot,ui. regarded as under the power of this order of beings, but it is not told us to which of the two the person present in the synagogue belonged. The ser\'ice had gone on apparently without interruption, till Jesus began to speak. Then, however, a paroxysm seized the unhappy man. Rising in the midst of the congrega- tion, a wild howl of demoniacal fi'enzy burst from him, that must have frozen the blood of all with horror. " Ha ! " yelled the demon. " What have we to do with Thee, Jesus, the Nazarene ? Thou comest to destroy us ! '^ I know Thee, who Thou art, the Holy One of God 1 " Among the crowd Jesus alone remained calm. He woidd not have acknow- ledgment of His Messialiship from such a source. "Hold thy peace," said He, indignantly, " and come out of him." The spirit felt its Master, and that it must obey, but, demon to the last, threw the man down in the midst of the congre- gation, tearing him as it did so, and, then, with a wild howl, fled out of him. Nothing could have happened better fitted to impress the audience favourably towards Jesus. This new teaching, said they amongst themselves, is with autho- rity. It carries its warrant with it." So startling an incident had broken up the service for the time, and Jesus left, with his four disciples, and the rest of the congi'egation. But His day's work of mercy had only begun. Arriving at His modest home, he found the mother of Peter's wife struck down with a violent attack of the local fever for which Capernaum had so bad a notoriety. The quantity of marshy land in the neighbourhood, especially at the entrance of the Jordan into the Lake, has made fever of a very malignant type at times the characteristic of the THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP, xxsni, " Matt. 8.15. Mark 1. 32. Luke 4. 40. locality,^ so tliat the physicians would not allow Josephus, when hurt by his horse sinking in the neighbouring marsh, to sleep even a single night in Capernaum, but hurried him on to Taricha3a.^'' It was not to be thought that He who had just sent joy and healing into the heart of a stranger, would withhold His aid when a friend required it. The anxious relatives forthwith besought His help, but the gen- tlest hint would have sufficed. It mattered not that it was fever : He was forthwith in the chamber, bending over the sick woman, and rebuking the disease as if it had been an evil personality. He took her by the hand, doubtless with a look, and with words, which made her His for ever, and gently raising her, she found the fever gone and health and strength returned, so that she could prepare their midday meal for her household and their wondrous guest. The strict laws of the Jewish Sabbath gave a few hours of rest to all, but the blast of the trumpet which announced its close was the signal for a renewal of the popular excitement, now increased by the rumour of a second miracle. ^^ With the setting of the sun it was once more lawful to move be- yond the two thousand paces of a Sabbath Day's journey, and to carry whatever burdens one pleased. Forthwith, began to gather from every street, and from the thickly soAvn towns and \dllages round, the strangest assemblage. The child led its blind father as near the enclosure of Simon's house as the throng permitted : the father came carrying the sick child ; men bore the helpless in swinging hammocks-; "all that had any sick, with whatever disease," brought them to the Great Healer. The whole town was in motion, and crowded before the house. What the sick of even a small town implied may be imagined. Fevers, convulsions, asthma, wasting consumption, swollen dro^^sy, shaking i:)alsy, the deaf, the dumb, the brain-affected, and, besides all, " many that were possessed A\'ith devils," that last, worst, symptom of the despairing misery and dark confusion of the times. Would He leave them as they were ? They had taken it for granted that He would pity them, for was He not a Prophet of God, and was it not natural that, like Elijah or THE SICK HEALED. 7 Elisha, tlie greatest of the prophets, the power of God might oHAP.xxxm. be present to heal those who were brought to Him ? Already, moreover, His characteristics had won the confidence of the simple crowd. There must have been a mysterious sym- pathy and goodness in His looks, and words, and even in His bearing, that seemed to beckon the wretched to Him as their friend, and that conquered all uncorrupted hearts. It had drawn His disciples from the interests of gain, to foUow Him in His poverty; it melted the woman that was a sinner into tears ; it softened the hard nature of publicans ; and drew hundreds of weary and heavy-laden to Him for rest. Those who could, gathered wherever they might hope to find Him, and as it was this evening, those who could not come, had themselves carried into His presence. As many as could, strove to touch, if it were possible, even His clothes ; others confessed aloud their sins, and o-v\Tied that their illness was the punishment from God. One would not venture to ask Him to come to his house ; another brought Him in that He might be, as it were, constrained to help. The bhnd cried out to Him from the road-side, and the woman of Canaan followed Him in spite of His hard words. When He came near, even those possessed felt His divine greatness. Trembhng in every hmb, they would fain have fled, but felt rooted to the spot, the evil spirits owning, in wild shrieks, the presence of one whose goodness was torment, and before whose will they must yield up their prey. The sight of so much misery crowding for rehef touched Jesus at once, and, erelong. He appeared at the open door, before the excited crowd. With a command, "Hold thy peace, and come out of him," a poor demoniac was presently in his right mind. The helpless lame stood up at the words " I say unto thee. Arise." The paral}i:ic left his couch, at the sound of " Take up thy bed and walk." To some. He had a word of comfort, that dispelled alarm and drove off its secret cause. " Be it to thee according to thy faith." "Wo- man, thou art loosed from thine infirmity." " Be of good cheer, my son, thy sins are forgiven thee," was enough to turn sorrow and pain into joy and health. Erelong He had spoken to all some word of mercy. The blind left with 8 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP, xxsin. their sight restored ; the possessed thanked God for their restoration ; the fever-stricken felt the glow of returning vigour ; the dumb shouted His praises ; and thus the strange crowd went off one by one, leaving the house once more in the silence of the night. No wonder the Evangelist saw in such an evening a fulfilment of the Avords of the prophet, 12 From the " Himsclf took our infirmities and bore our diseases." •'- Hebrew, not i^iSiTs'!^"' It was not, however, by popular excitement and mere out- ward heahng that the kingdom of God was to be spread, but by the still and gentle influence of the Truth, work- ing conviction in individual souls. The noisy crowd, the thronging numbers of diseased and suffering ; the curiosity that ran after excitement, and the yearning for help which looked only to outward healing, troubled, and almost alarmed Him. He had come to found a Spiritual Society, of men changed in heart towards God, and filled with faith in Himself as its Head ; and the merely external and mostly selfish notions of the multitude, could not escape His keen eyes. His divine love and j^ity sighed over the bodily and mental distress around. But, as a rule, the sufferers thought only of their outward misery, in melancholy ignorance of its secret source in their own sin and guilt before God, and had all their felt wants relieved when their bodily troubles were removed. In one aspect, indeed, these miraculous cures furthered the great purpose of Jesus. They might prove no doctrine, for mere power could not establish moral and spiritual truth. Miracles might possibly be wrought by other influences than divine, and left religious teaching to stand on its own merits, for they appealed to the senses ; not, like truth, to the soul. The display or overwhelming power might almost seem to endanger, rather than promote, the higher aim of Jesus, to win those whom He addressed. It awes and repels men to find themselves in the presence of forces which they can neither resist nor understand. In nature, untutored races tremble before powers which may be used to destroy them, and seek to win their favour hj the flattery of worship, surrounding even human despotism with awful attributes, before which they cower in terror. THE MIRACLJIS OF CHRIST. 9 Jesus, however, could ai^peal to His miraculous powers chap. xxxhl as evidences of His divine mission, and often did so. Their value lay in the grandeur they added to His character. Even in the wilderness, He had refused to exert them, vmder any circumstances, either for His natural wants, or for His per- sonal ends, and He adhered to this amazing self-restraint through His whole career. It was seen from the first, that His awful powers were uniformly beneficent; that He came, not to destroy men's lives, but to save them ; that He used omni- potence to bless, but never to hurt. His words, His bearing, and His looks of divine love and tenderness, doubtless pre- disposed men to expect this, and His uniform course soon confirmed it. They saw that nothing could disturb His absolute patience, or rouse Him to vindictiveness. They heard Him endure meekly the most contemptuous sneers, the bitterest criticism, and the most rancorous hostility. No one denied His miraculous powers, though some affected to call them demoniac, in direct contradiction to their habitual exercise for the hohest ends. But they were so invariably devoted to the good of others, and so entirely held in restraint, as regarded personal ends, that men came, erelong, to treat Him with the reckless boldness of hatred, notwith- standing such awful endo'^Tnent. Round one so transcendently meek, self-interest found no motive for gathering. He who would do nothing with such possibihties, for Himself, could not be expected to do more for the personal ends of others. Hypocrisy had nothing to gain by seeking His favour. Only sincerity found Him attractive. But, on the other hand, with the uncorrupted and worthy, this characteristic gave Him unlimited moral elevation. No more subhme spectacle can be conceived than boundless power, kept in perfect control, for ends wholly unselfish and noble. Condescension wins admiration when it is only from man to man ; when it showed itself in veiled omnipotence, ever ready to bless others, but never used on its own behalf, it became a divine ideal. Men saw Him clothed with power over disease, and even over death ; able to cast forth spirits, or to still the sea, and yet accessible, fuU of sympathy, the lofty patriot, the tender friend, the 10 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. ^m. patient counsellor ; shedding , tears, at times, from a full heart, and ever ready with a wise and gentle word for all ; so unaffected and gentle that children drew round Him ■with a natural instinct, and even worldly hardness and vice were softened before Him ; and this contrast of transcendent power, and perfect humility, made them feel that He was indeed the Head of the Kingdom of God amongst men. The secret of His amazing success, as the founder of a new rehgious constitution for mankind, lay in the recognition of this perfect sacrifice of one so transcendently great, Qo, culminating in "the death of the cross." ^^ It Avas the perfect realization, in Himself, of the life He urged on others. It implied the ideal fulfilment of all human duties, and no less so, of all divine, for the heavenly love which alone could dictate and sustain such a career, was, in itself, the most perfect transcript of the nature of God. A life in which every step showed kingly gi'ace and divinely bound- less love, condescending to the lowliest self-denial for the good of man, proclaimed Him the rightful Head of the New Kingdom of God. The night which followed this busy and eventful Sabbath brought no repose to His body or mind. The excitement around agitated and disturbed Him. It was His first tiiumphaht success, for, in the south. He had met with little sympathy, though He had attracted crowds. But curiosity was not progress, and excitement was not conver- sion. Lowliness and concealment, not noisy throngs, were the true conditions of His work, and of its firmest establish- ment, and lasting glory. Mere popularity was, moreover, a renewed temptation, for, as a man. He was susceptible of the same seductions as His brethren. He might be dra-\\ni aside to think of Himself, and to His holy soul the faintest approach to this was a surrender to evil. Rising from His couch, therefore, while the deep darkness which precedes the dawn still rested on hill and valley. He left the house so quietly that no one heard Him, and went, once more, to the solitudes of the hills behind the town. Passing through groves- of palms, and orchards of fig and olive trees, inter- mixed with vineyards and grassy meadows, with their LONELY PRAYER. 11 tinkling brooks, so deliglitful in the East, and their unseen chap, sxxin glory of lilies and varied flowers. He soon reached the heights, amongst which, at no great distance from the town, were lonely ravines where He could enjoy perfect seclusion. In the stillness of nature He was alone with His Father, and far from the temptations which troubled the pure simplicity of His soul, and His lowly meekness before God and man. We, now, see the glory of the path He chose, but while He lived, even His disciples would have planned a very different course. AVhy not take advantage of the excitement of the peo2)le to rouse the whole nation, as John had done ? Was not His miraculous power a means of endless benefit to men, and should it not, therefore, be made the great feature of His work ? Vanity would have suggested plausible grounds for His using His gifts in a way, that, in reality, was not in harmony with the great end of His mission. But His soul remained unsullied, like the stainless light. He came to do the will of His Father, and nothing could make Him for a moment think of Himself In lonely communion with His own soul, and earnest prayer, the rising breath of temp- tation passed once more away.^ Peter and Andrew, finding Him gone when they awoke, were at a loss what to think. More sick persons were gathering, and the crowds of yesterday promised to be larger to-day. Hasting to the hills, to which they rightly sup- posed He had retired, and having found Him at last, they fancied He would at once return with them, on hearing that the whole people were seeking Him. But He had a wider sphere than Capernaum, and higher duties than mere bodily healing. " I have not come to heal the sick," said He, " but to announce and spread the kingdom of God. AU I do is subordinate to this. Let us, therefore, go to the neigh- bouring towns, for I must preach the kingdom of God to other cities, as well as to Capernaum." ^ Nor would He be persuaded to return for a time, though some of the people had already found out His retreat, and joined with the disciples in beo;o;ino; Him to do so. The circuit now beg;un was the first of a series, m which 12 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. cHAP.sssiii. Jesus visited every part of Galilee,^* j^i'^^ching and teaching " Kiila: ill the synagogue of each town that had one, and often, doubtless, in the ojien air. It was the briglit and sunny time of the year, when the harvest was quickly ripening.*^ The heat was already oppressive at noon, but the mornings and evenings permitted more easy travelling. It was a time of intense labour for the Saviour, of which the day's work in Capernaum was only a sample. The bounds of Galilee embraced the many villages and towns of the Plain of Esdraelon, and the whole of the hilly country north of it, almost to Lebanon. Day by day brought its march from one village or town to others, over the thirsty limestone uplands, where the wanderer thankfully received the cup of cold water, as a gift to be recompensed in the kingdom of God, or through glowing ^dneyards, or among the corn- fields whitening to the harvest, or falling under the sickle of the reaper. " Every day," said Jesus to His disciples, " has its own troubles ; " for Aveariness ; possibly, at times,- hunger ; the dependence on hospitality for shelter; the pres- sure of crowds ; the stohd indifference of too many ; the idle curiosity of more ; the ever-present misery of disease in all its forms ; and, it may be, even thus early, the opposition of some, must have borne heavily on a nature like His. The news of His miracles had spread like running fire through the whole country, and attracted crowds from all parts. Beyond Palestine, on the north, they had become the com- mon talk of S}Tia; on the east, they had stirred the " TheDe- populatiou of the wide district of the ten cities,^^ and of ■^pois. Pei'ca^ and, on the south, His name was on all lips in Jerusalem and Judea. Erelong, it seemed as if the scenes of John's preaching were returning, for numbers gathered to Him from all these parts, and followed Him, day by day, in His movements through the land. His progress was, indeed, worthy of such an attendance, for no king ever celebrated such a triumph. Conquerors returning from victory over kingdoms and emjiires had led trains of trembling captives in their train. But, at every resting- place, a sad crowd of sufi"erers from all diseases and painful afi^ections, and of demoniacs, lunatics, and paralytics, was LEPROSY. 13 gathered in the path of Jesus, and He healed them by a chap^^xhl word or a touch. Escorted into each town by those whom He had thus restored— the lately sick and dying whom He had instantaneously cured, — it is no wonder that the whole land rang with the story. The enemies over whom He triumphed were pain, and sickness, and death, and the rejoicings that greeted Him were shouts of gratitude and blessing as the Prince of Life. Only one incident of this wondrous journey is recorded at any length.i'^ jn one of the cities He visited, He was sud- ■» Jg«^B.2_4, denly met'by a man " full of leprosy," a disease at all times '^,t,,_,,. terrible, but aggravated, in the opinion of that day, by the belief that it was a direct "stroke of God," as a punishment for special sms.i" It began mth little specks on the eyelids, - b.m:mx. and on the palms of the hand, and gradually spread over different parts of the body, bleaching the hair white wher- ever it showed itself, crusting the affected parts with shining scales, and causing swellings and sores. From the skin it slowly ate its way through the tissues, to the bones and joints and even to the marrow,!^ rotting the whole body - ^^^r^^- piecemeal. The lungs, the organs of speech and hearing, and the eyes were attacked in turn, till, at last, consumption or dropsy brought welcome death. The dread of infection kept men aloof from the sufferer, and the Law proscribed him, as, above all men, unclean. The disease was heredi- tary to the fourth generation. No one thus afflicted could remain in a waUed town, though he might Uve in a viUage.i^ „ ^^^_^ There were different varieties of leprosy, but aU were g;;^^^^ dreaded as the saddest calamity of life. The leper was required to rend his outer garment, to go bareheaded, and to cover his mouth so as to hide his beard, as was done in lamentation for the dead. He had, further, to warn passers by away from him by the cry of " Unclean, unclean ;"^o » Lev. 13. 4.5. not without the thought that the sound would call forth a prayer for the sufferer, and less from the fear of infection, than to prevent contact with one thus visited by God, and unclean.- He could not speak to any one, or receive or retvuTi a salutation. In the lapse of ages, however, these rules had been in some degree relaxed. A leper might live 14 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. cHAP.sxsin. in an open village, with any one willing to receive him and to become unclean for his sake, and he might even enter the synagogue, if he had a part specially partitioned off for 2'AMeciiiza. himself, "^^ aud was the first to enter the building, and the last to leave. He even at times ventured to enter a town, though forbidden under the penalty of forty stripes. But it was a living death, in the slow advance of which a man became daily more loathsome to himself, and even to his dearest friends. "These four are counted as dead," says the Talmud, " the blind, the leper, the poor, and the a ughtfoot,6i8. childless." ^'^ The news of the wondrous cures wrought on so many had reached ,the unfortunate man, who now dared the Law, to make his way to the healer. Falling at His feet in humble reverence, he delighted the spirit of Jesus by, perhaps, the first open confession of a simple and lowly faith — " Lord, if Thou wilt. Thou canst make me clean." His kneeling before Him, and addressing Him by such a title, was, indeed, only what he would have done to any one greatly above him,'' but his frank belief in His power, and his implicit submission to His will, touched a heart so tender. Moved with com- passion for the unfortunate, there was no delay — a touch of the hand, and the words, " I will : be thou clean," and he rose, a leper no longer. To have touched him, Avas, in the eyes of a Jew, to have made Himself unclean, but He had come to break through the deadly externalism that had taken the place of true religion, and could have shown no more strikingly how He looked on mere Rabbinical precepts than by making a touch which, tiU then, had entailed the worst uncleanness, the means of cleansing. Slight though it seemed, the touch of the leper was the proclamation that Judaism was abrogated henceforth. The popular excitement had already extended widely, and a cure like this was certain to raise it still higher. With the Baptist in prison on a pretended political charge, and the people full of political dreams in connection with the expected Messiah, all that might fan the flame was to be dreaded. Excitement, moreover, was unfavourable to the great work of Jesus. He needed a thousrhtful calm in the CEREMONY OF CLEANSING THE LEPER. 15 mind, for lasting effects. The kingdom of God which He chap.sxxiu. proclaimed was no mere appeal to the feelings, but sought the understanding and heart. Turning to the newly cured, therefore, He spoke earnestly to him, not to tell any one what had happened, threatening him with His anger, if he should disobey.-^ " Go to Jerusalem," said He, " and show ° ^Mep'/xio^iu. yourself to the priest, and make the offerings for j^our cleans- ing, required by the Law, as a proof to your neighbours, to the priests, the scribes, and the people at large, that you are really clean." A certificate of the recovery of a leper could only be given at Jerusalem, by a priest, after a lengthened exami- nation, and tedious rites, and, no doubt, these were didy undergone and performed. It will illustrate the " bondage " of the ceremonial law, as then in force, to describe them. With his heart full of the first joy of a cure so amazing, for no one had ever before heard of the recovery of a man "full of leprosy," he set off to the Temple for the requisite papers to authorize his return, once more, to the roll of Israel. A tent had to be pitched outside the city, and in this the priest examined the leper, cutting off all his hair with the utmost care, for if only two hairs were left, the cere- mony was invalid. Two sparrows had to be brought at this first stage of the cleansing ; the one, to be kiUed over a small earthen pan of water, into which its blood must drop : the other, after being sprinkled with the blood of its mate, — a cedar twig, to which scarlet wool and a piece of hyssop were bound, being used to do so, — was let free in such a direction that it should fly to the open country. After the scrutiny by the priest, the leper put on clean clothes, and carried away those he had worn to a running stream, to wash them thoroughly, and to cleanse himself by a bath. He could now enter the city, but for seven days more could not enter his ovm house. On the eighth day after, he once more submitted to the scissors of the priest, who cut off whatever hair might have grown in the interval. Then followed a second bath, and now he had only carefuUy to avoid any defilement, so as to be fit to attend in the Temple next morning, and complete his 16 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP. xxxm. cleansing. The first step in this final purification was to ofier three lambs, two males and a female, none of which must be under a year old. Standing at the outer edge of the court of the men, which he was not yet Avorthy to enter, the leper waited the longed-for rites. These began by the priest taking one of the male lambs destined to be slain as an atonement for the leper, and leading it to each point of the compass in turn, and by his swinging a vessel of oil on all sides, in the same way, as if to present both to the universally present God. He then led the lamb to the leper, who laid his hands on its head, and gave it over as a sacrifice for his guilt, which he now confessed. It was forthwith killed at the north side of the altar, two priests catching its blood, the one in a vessel, the other in his hand. The first now sprinkled the altar with the blood, while the other went to the leper and anointed his ears, his right thumb, and his right toe with it. The one priest then poured some oil of the leper's ofi'ering into the left hand of the other, who, in his turn, dipped his finger seven times into the oil thus held, and sprinkled it as often toAvards the Holy of Holies. Each part of the leper which before had been touched Avith the blood, Avas then further anointed Avith the oil, what remained being stroked on his head. The leper could noAV enter the men's court, and did so, passing through it to that of the priests. The female lamb Avas next killed, as a sin-off'ering, after he had put his hands on its head, part of its blood being smeai'ed on the horns of the altar, while the rest Avas poured out at the altar base. The other male lamb AA-as then slain for a burnt sacrifice ; the leper once more laying his hands on its head, and the priest sprinkling its blood on the altar. The fat, and all that was fit for an ofi'ering, was noAv laid on the altar, and burned as a " SAveet-smelling savour " to God. A meat-ofi^ering of fine Avheat meal and oil ended the Avhole ; a portion being laid on the altar, Avhile the rest, Avith the tAvo lambs, of Avhich only a small part had been burned, formed the dues of the 21 Dnrch priest.-* It Avas not till all this had been done that the full S!^.?;1l ceremony of cleansing, or shoAving himself to the priest, had been carried out,' and that the cheering words, " Thou art POPULAR EXCITEJIENT. 17 pure," restored the sufferer once more to the rights of citizen- cmu'.xssm. ship and of intercourse with men. No wonder that even a man hke St. Peter, so tenderly minded to his ancestral reli- gion, should speak of its requirements as a yoke which "neither our fathers nor we are able to bear."-^ " Acta 15.10. Of the after-history of the leper thus cleansed we are not informed. It appeal's, however, that his joy at being healed was too great to be repressed even by Christ's grave impo- sition of silence. The multitudes around Jesus would soon, of themselves, spread news of the miracle, but the healed man widened and heightened the excitement by telling everywhere on his road to Jerusalem what had befallen him. The result was that Jesus could no longer enter a town or city, so great was the commotion His presence ex- cited. Nor was it of any avail that He retired to the open country, for even when He betook Himself to the upland solitudes, great multitudes continually sought Him out,™ either to hear His words, or to be healed of their various diseases. In such busy and exhausting scenes the days of early autumn passed. But, whatever the returning toils of each morning, the Saviour still craved and secured hours of lonely calm, for we read in St. Luke that, during all these weeks. He was wont to withdraAv, doubtless by night, into lonely places to pray.^^ -" ^^ Imperfect of custom. Winer, 252. VOL. IL 41 18 THE LIFK OF CHEIST p. xxsrv. rj^ CHAPTER XXXIV. LIGHT AND DAEKlSrESS. HE cure of the leper seems to have resulted in Jesus returning, for a moment, to Capernaum. He had acted with the greatest caution during His mission, to avoid giving offence, and thus raising opposition, Avhich would be fatal at the very opening of His ministry. From many a hill-top on His journeyings, He and His disciples had, doubtless, often looked to the mountains in the south-east, amidst which John lay, a helpless prisoner ; and they must have felt that the prince who had thus cut short the work of the great Reformer, might be readily moved to the same violence towards themselves. Jesus had, therefore, shunned notoriety ; and though He never hesitated to accept homage, where it was sincere and spontaneous, He had never demanded it, and had kept even His miraculous powers in strict subordination to the great work of pro- claiming the advent of the kingdom of God. The appeals of pain and misery had, indeed, constrained Him to relieve them, but He had accompanied His miracles by a strict pro- hibition of their being made pubhcly known, further than was inevitable. In spite of every precaution, however, the report of His wonderful doings spread far and wide, and drew ever in- creasing attention. Political circles, as yet, did not con- descend to notice Him, but the sleepless eyes of the ecclesi- astical authorities were already watching Him. It was enough that He acted independently of them. Not to be with them was, in their eyes, to be against them, for they claimed, as the spiritual leaders of the nation, the sole direction of its religious teaching. The more wonderful His works, the DANGEE IN PROSPECT. 19 greater their excitement, and the keener their jealous}-. In chap.ssxit. any case, therefore, the words which accompanied sucli ex- traordinary manifestations, woukl have been watched with the closest scrutiny, for any chance of -vindicating their care of the religious interests entrusted to them. In an age of such rigid literalism and unchanging conservatism, no teacher with the least indiv-iduahty of thought or expression could hope to escape, where the determination to condemn was already fixed. Far less was it possible for one hke Jesus — so sincere , amidst general insincerity; so intense and real amidst what was hollow and outward ; so pure and elevated amidst what was gross and worldly ; so tenderly human, amidst what was harsh and exclusive — to avoid giving pre- text for censure. The priests and Rabbis, through the whole land, felt instinctively that their influence was im- perilled by His lightest word. They, already, were coldly suspicious. The next step would be to blame, and they would seek, before long, to destroy Him, for it has, in all ages, been the sad characteristic of the leaders of dominant rehgious parties, to confound the gratification of the worst passions with loyalty to their office. Perhaps Jesus had hoped that in Capernaum, at least, He would find an interval of repose, for His absence might have been expected to have allayed the excitement. No spot in Palestine seemed less likely to be disturbed by the hostility of the schools. In Jerusalem, men looked back to a past dating from Melchisedek, and were its slaves, but Capernaum was so new that its name does not occur at all in the Old Testament. But He soon found that the dark and hateful genius of Rabbinism, with its puerile customs and formulas, and its fierce bigotry, was abroad through the whole land. It was vain to expect that a "city set on a hill" could be hidden. He had scarcely re-entered the town, before it ran from mouth to mouth that He had returned, and Avas at home.^ Crowds presently gathered, and filled not only the ■ Jgi^^.M.^ house, but the space before it. There was to be no rest for i-ukes.n-ss. the Son of Man, till He found it in the garden grave of Joseph of Arimathea. The applause, the gaping wonder. 20 THE LIFE OP CHRIST. CHAP. XXXIV. the huge concourse of people, were only a grief to Him. He had broken away from them before, and sought refuge from the temptations they tended to excite, in lonely prayer by night, on the neighbouring hills, under the pure and silent stars. They had followed Him on His journey from to-\\Ti to town, and, now, on His return to Caj^ernaum, the clamour of voices, and the pressure of throngs, beset Him more than ever. Had anxiety to hear the truths of the new spiritual kingdom caused this excitement,, it would have been healthy, but it had been already shown only too cleai'ly that, while men believed in His power to heal, they cared little for His higher claims. Regret for bodily illness, or ready sympathy -with the sufferers, simply as under physical trouble, were evidently the only thought, to the exclusion of any sense of graver spii'itual disease in all alike. The very maladies often revealed moral impurity as their cause; and the selfish struggle for His favour, and the too frequent ingratitude of the cured, saddened His soul. Of the multi- tudes whom He had healed, most had disappeared, mthout any signs of having heeded His apj^eals and warnings. Even the leper, Avho had at least promised silence, was s schenkei, hai'dly out of His presence before he forgot his pledge.^ 76. He was already the !Man of Sorrows, but divine compassion still urged Him to heal. To make the trial greater, it was evident that mischief was brewing. The Rabbis were astir. They had heard of the multitudes attracted from the other side of the Jordan « Matt. 4. 22, 23. ou tlic cast ; from as far as Jerusalem,^ and even Idumea, • Mark 3. 8. on the south, and from Phenicia on the north;* and had followed the crowds, and gathered in Capernaum from every town of Gahlee and Judea, and from Jerusalem itself, to hear and see the new wonder. Sensitive in their own interest, they came with no friendly motive, but cold and hostile; to criticize, and, if possible, to condemn. Even in Galilee the influence of the order was great. It had done immense service to the nation in earlier days in kindling an intense feeling of nationality, and an enthu- siasm, at first healthy and beneficial, though now perverted, » pressei, in for thclr faltli.^ The Rabbis were the heads of the nation, PO^VER OF THE RABBIS. 21 in the ■widest sense, for the religion of tlie j)eople was also chap, ssxt.^ their politics. They were the theologians, the jurists, the legislators, the politicians, and, indeed, the soul of Israel.*^ « schnft- The priests had sunk to a subordinate place in the public Herzo&'xiii. regard. The veneration which the people felt for their Law was willingly extended to its teachers. They were greeted reverently in the street and in the market-place, men rising up before them as they passed ; the title of Rabbi was universally accorded them ; the front seats' of the syna- gogues were set apart for them ; and they took the place of honour at all family rejoicings, that they might discourse, incidentally, to the company, on the Law. Wise in their generation, they . fostei'ed this homage by external aids. Their long robes, their broad phylacteries, or prayer fillets, on their forehead and arm, their conspicuous TephiUin, with the sacred tassels dangling from each corner, were part of themselves, Avithout which they were never seen. The people gloried in them as the crown of Israel, and its dis- tinguishing honour above all other nations.^ " Learn where is wisdom," says Baruch, "where is strength, where is under- standing. It has not been heard of in Canaan, nor seen in Teman. The Hagarenes seek wisdom, and the traders of Meran and Teman, and the poets and philosophers, but they have not found out the way of wisdom, or discovered her path. God has found out the whole way of wisdom, and hath given it to His servant Jacol), and to Israel, His beloved."' Jerusalem was, naturally, while the Temple Bamchs. worship continued, the head-quarters of the wisdom of the Rabbis, but they were found in all the synagogue towns both of Judea and Gahlee. They formed the members of the local, ecclesiastical, and criminal courts over the country, and at Jerusalem, virtually controlled the authorities, and thus framed the religious and general law for the nation at large, so far as alloAved by the Romans. Their activity never rested. Whether as guests from the Holy City, or as residents, they pervaded the land, visiting every school and synagogue, to extend their influence by teaching and ex- hortations. A Rabbi, indeed, could move from place to place with little trouble, for, in most cases, he lived by trade 22 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. cHAP^xsiv. or handicraft, and could tlius unite business and religion in his missionary journeys. Tlieir ceaseless circuits are painted in the Targum on Deborah's song. It makes the prophetess say — " I am sent to praise the Scribes of Israel, who ceased not, in the evil times, to expound the Law. It was beau- tiful to see how they sat in the synagogues, and taught the people the words of the Law ; how they uttered the bless- ings, and confessed the truth before God. They neglected their own affairs, and rode on asses round the whole land, and sat for judgment." The paraphrase is an anachronism when applied to the age of the Judges, bvit it vividly illus- • Hausroih,!. ti'atcs Rabbinical zeal in the days of Christ.^ Soon after His return to Capernaum, an incident occurred which led to the first open difference between Jesus and this all-powerful order. The crowds had gathered in such numbers at Peter's house, that not only the house itself, but the sjiace before it, was once more full. Among the audience were Scribes from all parts, to see if they should unite Avith the new movement, and turn it to their own purposes, or take measures against it. If we may judge from the ruins on the site of the town, the house was only a single very low story high, with a flat roof, reached by a stairway from the yard or court,^ and Jesus may have stood near the door, in such a position as to be able to address the crowd outside, as well as those in the chamber.*' Possibly, however, there were two stories in this particular house, as there nmst have been in some in the town, and in that case the upper one would likely be a large room — the " upper " and best chamber — such as was often used elsewhere by Rabbis, for reading and expounding the Law to their dis- w Lightfoot, ciples,^'' and Jesus may have stood near the open window, Mark, U. 400. \ , , i i , . ^ t • i • 11 Deutzsch.Ein SO as to 06 iieard both outside and within. ^^ Capernaum, From soiue favourablc spot He was addressing the thickly crowded audience about the kingdom of God, so long prophesied, and now, at last, in their midst, when four men approached bearing a sick person, on a hammock slung between them. It proved to be a man entirely paralyzed. Unable to make their way through the throng, the bearers went round the house to see what should be done. They • Matt. 24. 1' Ijand and Book, 358. 11 Ewald, Geschichte, V. S75. THE P^UiALYTIC MAN. 23 had likely come from a distance, and thus were too late to chap.sxsu-. get at once near the great Healer. The outside stairs to the roof, however, offered them a solution of their difficulty. The sick man was bent on getting to the feet of Jesus, and willingly let them raise him, which they were able to do by fastening cords to the hammock, and pulling it up, after they themselves had got to the top by the narrow and ladder-like stej^s. Their trembling burden once safely on the roof, the rest was easy. Eastern houses are, in many ways, very different from ours, but in none more strikingly than in the lightness of the roof. Rafters are laid on the top of the side walls, about three feet apart, and on these short sticks are put, till the whole space is covered. Over these, again, a thick coating of brushwood, or of some common bush, is spread. A coat of mortar comes next, burying and levelling all beneath it, and on this again is spread marl or eaith, which is rolled flat and hard.^^ Many roofs, indeed, are much slighter — earth 12 Land ana closely roUed or beaten down, perhaps mixed with ashes, lime, and chopped straw, — being all the owners can afford, and thus, even at thi^ day, it is common to see grass growing on the house-top after the rains, and repairs of cx'acks made by the sun's rays are often needed in the hot season, to prevent heavy leakafje.^^ It is thus easy to break up a roof when « Am. */ <^ J L "Haiiser/'and necessary, and it is often done. The earth is merely scraped Bj^f^jj^ty back from a part, and the thorns and short sticks removed, a^d^^^^. till an opening of the required size is made.^* ' " B^ok's^s. Through some such simple roofing the four beai'crs now opened a space large enough to let down the sick man into the chamber where Jesus stood." Cords tied to the couch made the rest easy, and the paralytic was presently at the feet of Jesus. He lay there, the living dead, but his outward troubles were not his greatest. Looking on his calamity as a punishment from God for past sins, — perhaps feeling that it had been brought upon him by a vicious life, — he was even more sorely stricken in spirit than in body. No one, he felt, could help him but He to reach whom had been his deepest wish. To be healed within, was even more vdih him than to be restored to outward health. He had nothing 24 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP, sxxry. to say ; perhaps he could not speak, for palsy often hinders articulation. But his eyes told his whole story, and He before whom he had thus strangely come read it at a glance. He was still a young man, which in itself awakened sjnnpathy, but he had, besides, in his anxiety to get near, by whatever means, and the humiUty which sought cleansing from guilt more than restoration to health, shown a recognition of Christ's higher dignity as the dispenser of spiritual blessings. With an endearing word used by teachers to disciples, or by superiors in age or rank, Jesus flashed the light of hope on his troubled spirit. "My child," said He, "thy sins are forgiven thee." It was a wondrous utterance, and must have sounded still more strangely, when thus first heard, than to us, Avho have been familiar with it from childhood. No one had ever heard Him admit, even by a passing word. His own sinful- ness ; He showed no humility before God as a sinner ; never sought pardon at His hands. Yet no Rabbi approached Him in opposition to all that Avas wrong, for He went even beyond the act to the sinful desire. The standard He demanded was no less than the awful pai-fection of God. But those round Him heard Him now rise above any mere tacit assumption of this sinless purity by His setting Himself in open contrast to sinners, in His claim not only to announce the forgiveness of sins by God, but. Himself, to dispense it. He pai'dons the sins of the repentant creature before Him on His OAvn authority, as a King, which it would be contradictory to have done had He Himself been con- scious of having sin and guilt of His own. It was clear that He could have ventured on no such assumption of the prerogative of God, had He not felt in Himself an absolute harmony of spiritual nature with Him, so that He only >=■ Diimanii, uttcred what He knew was the divine will.^'' It was at GsTe^."^'^''*"' once a proclamation of His o■\\^l sinlessness, and of His kingly dignity as the Messiah, in whose hands had been placed the rule over the new theocracy. The Rabbis felt,"in a moment, all that such words imjjlied. Their only idea of a religious teacher was that he should never venture a word on his ovm authority, but slavishly FORGIVENESS OF SINS. 25 follow other earlier Rabbis. They had all the conservatism cm^p. xssry. of lawyers. One Beth-din could not put aside the decision of another, unless it was superior in wisdom and numbers,^® '" Derenbourg, and how little likely it was that, even in such a case, any decision should be superseded, may be judged from the fact that for any one to dispute with a Rabbi or murmur against him, or to hesitate in accepting and obeying his every word, was no less a crime than to do the same towards God Himself. ^'^ " Eisenmpngcr, Even the people had caught the spirit of changeless con- servatism from their teachers, for, when John Hyrcanus, with a kindly view to reheve them from an almost intolerable burden, ventured to prohibit some trifling Rabbinical rules of the Pharisees, his well-meant liberality, instead of gaining him favour, excited hatred against him as an intruder and innovator.^* The type of a strict Rabbi found its ideal in n Derenbom-g, Schammili, the rival of Hillel, and founder of the school which was most bitter against Jesus. It was not enough that he sought to make even young childi-en fast through the whole day of Pardon : during the Feast of Tabernacles he had the roof taken from, the room in which lay his daughter-in-law and her new-born son, to have a tent raised over them, that the baby might be able to keep the feast. ^'^ 19 Derenbonrg, The lofty words of Jesus at once caught the ears of the lawyers on the watch. They sounded new, and to be new was to be dangerous. Nothing in Judaism had been left unfixed ; every religious act, and indeed, every act whatever, must follow minutely prescribed rules. The Law knew no such form as an official forgiving of sins, or absolution. The leper might be pronounced clean by the priest, and a transgressor might present a sin-offering at the Temple, and transfer his guilt to it, by laying his hands on its head and owning his fault before God, and the blood sprinkled by the pi'iest on the horns of the altar, and towards the Holy of Holies, was an atonement that " covered " his sins from the eyes of Jehovah, and pledged his forgiveness. But that forgiveness was the direct act of God ; no human lips dared pronounce it. It was a special prerogative of the Almighty,-" '" f"*- 1^/; and even should mortal man venture to declare it, he could sfi^'''*' only do so in the name of Jehovah, and by His immediate 26 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP, xsxiv. authorization. But Jesus had sj^oken in His o-^-n name. He had not hinted at being empowered by God to act for Him. The Scribes were greatly excited ; whispers, ominous head- shakings, dark looks, and pious gesticulations of alarm, showed that they were ill at ease. " He should have sent him to the priest to present his sin-offering, and have it accepted : it is blasphemy to speak of forgiving sins, He is intruding on the divine rights." The blasphemer was to be put to death by stoning, his body hung on a tree, and then 21 Lev. 24. 16. burlcd witli shame.^^ "Who can forcrive sins but One, Ant. It. 8. 6. O ) God ?" It was the turning point in the life of Jesus, for the accusation of blasphemy, now muttered in the hearts of the Rabbis present, was the beginning of the process which ended, after a time, on Calvary ; and He knew it. The genius of Rabbinism was in direct antagonism to that of His " new teaching." Christ required a change of heart; the Rabbis, instruction ; He looked at the motive of an act ; they, at its strict accordance to legal forms ; He contented Hhnself with implanting a j^rinciple of pure and loving obedience in the breast, which should make men a law to themselves : they taught that every detail of religious observance, from the cradle to the gi'ave, — to the very smallest, — should be pre- scribed, and rigidly followed in every formal particular. He promised the Divine Spirit to aid His followers to a perfect obedience ; the Rabbis enforced obedience by the terrors of =2 pressei, thc Church courts, which they controlled.^^ Resting thus Herzog, xii. on wholly diffcrcut conceptions ; the Rabbi, self-satisfied in the observance of external rites and requirements; Jesus repudiating merit, and basing His kingdom on the willing service of humble and grateful love, the only question was how long, in an intolerant theocracy, active hostihty might be averted. The lowly, wandering, Galila^an teacher, who despised long robes and phylacteries, and associated with the rude and ignorant, from whom the Rabbis shrank as accursed for not knowing the Rabbinical law ; who had no license as teacher from any Beth-din ; who had attended no Beth-ha- Midrasch, or Rabbis' School of the Law, and was thus a mere untrained layman, usurjiing clerical functions, was THE RABBIS AROUSED. 27 instinctively suspected and bated, tliougli they covild not ch-vp^siv. afFect to despise Him. The kingdom of God which He preached was, moreover, something new and irregular. In the words of Baruch,^^ they expected that all who kept the Law« i!aruch4.2. in their sense, would, in return, have eternal life as a right, as indeed, one of their proverbs plainly put it, — " He who buys the words of the Law, buys everlasting life."-* Esteeming '» p- Aboth. themselves blamelessly righteous,^^ they not only despised « ™'^3g% others, but claimed Heaven, as the special favourites of Matt. 23. 23. God. It must, therefore, have been galling in the extreme, to hear Jesus demand humiUty and repentance, and faith in Himself, as the universal conditions of entrance into the new kingdom of God ; to be confounded with the crowd on whom they looked as Brahmins on Sudras ; and to be stripped of their boasting, and even of their hopes of future political glory, by the proclamation of a new and purely spiritual theocracy, in the place of the national restoration of which they dreamed, with themselves at its head.^^ Only a spark was wanting to set their hostility «« scMftge- ablaze, and this had now been supplied. For the time they were helpless, in the presence of so much enthusiasm for Jesus, but this only increased their bitterness, on their finding that He had kept His eyes on them, and knew their thoughts. They were now still more confused by His openly asking them, " Why they were thinking evil in their hearts ?" He had long felt that He could not hope to make any healthy impression on a class who affected to regard Him as half beside Himself on religious matters,-" and as one who had set Himself up as a" ^^Y^j^?^; Rabbi, and excited the people against their teachers. He knew that they put the worst construction on all He said, and were laying up matter for future open attack. But no passing thought of fear disturbed Him. He had come to witness to the truth, and at once accepted the challenge which their hostile looks and bearings implied. Without waiting to be assailed, He suddenly asked them, "Which is easier ? To say to this paralytic, Thy sins are forgiven, or to say. Rise, and take up thy bed and go ? " There might be deception about the forgiveness, for no one could tell if the lehrte. Hera 7-10. 2 Cor. 6. 13. 28 THE LIFE OF CHRIST, CHAP. xxsiY. absolution were of any avail, bnt there could be none respect- ing tlie cure of a helpless living corpse. Turning to the bed without waiting an answer, He continued — in irresistible self- vindication — " That ye may knoAV that the Son of Man has authority on the earth to forgive sins, — Rise, poor man, take up the mat on which you have been lying, and go home." It was enough ; sensibihty and power of motion returned to the helpless limbs ; muscles and nerves lost their torpor ; strength poured once more through the veins. Slowly, scarce realizing what it meant, he rose, little by little, his eyes fixed on his deliverer, till, at last, he stood erect before Him, to sink at His knees again in grateful adoration. But he could not be allowed to stay. Stepping back, with- out saying a Avord, Jesus, by a look, motioned him to retire, and lifting the m'at,'^ he did so, his eyes still fixed on his helper, as he made his way backward through the awe- stricken crowd. The eff'ect was electric. The Scribes were, for the time, discomfited. Amazement and fear mingled with religious awe. " We never saw it thus," cried some, while others, with true Eastern demonstrativeness, broke out into pi'aise of God who had given such power to men. Meanwhile, Jesus glided out of the apartment, sad at heart, for the shadow of the cross had fallen on His soul. A number of disciples must, by this time, have been gained in different parts, but the inner circle gathered by Jesus, as His personal followers, was as yet limited to the few whom he had first "called." Another Avas, now, however, to be added to their number. Capernaum, as a busy trad- ing town, on the marches between the dominions of Philip and those of Antipas, and, from its being on the high road a Acre. between Damascus and Ptoleraais,^^ had a strong staff" of custom-house officers, or publicans," to use the common name. The traffic landed at Capernaum from across the Lake, or shipped from it, had to pay dues, and so had all that entered or left the town in other directions. There were tolls on the highways, and on the bridges, and at each place the humbler grades of publicans were required, while a few of a higher rank had charge of the aggregate receipts PUBLICANS. 29 of the minor offices of the district. These officials were chap^xiv. often freemen, or even slaves of the larger farmers of the local imposts; sometimes natives of the part, and even poor Roman citizens. The whole class, however, had a bad name for greed and exaction.^^ So loud, indeed, and » ^y-^-^i^^ serious, did the remonstrances of the whole Roman world adVint.!!" become at the tyranny and plunderings thus suffered, that, ll^ol'^"' a generation later, Nero proposed to the Senate to do away with taxes altogether, though the idea resulted only in an official admission that the "greed of the publicans must be repressed, lest they should at last, by new vexations, render the public burdens intolerable." ^^ The underlings, 30 ^. Ann. especially, sought to enrich themselves by grinding the people: and the checks they caused to commerce, the trouble they gave by reckless examination of goods, and by tedious delays ; by false entries, and illegal duties ; made them intensely hated. " Bears and lions," said a proverb, " might be the fiercest wild beasts in the forests, but publi- cans and informers were the worst in the cities." ^^ The 31 stob. s,rm. Jews, who bore the Roman yoke with more impatience than any other nation, and shunned all contact with foreigners, excommunicated every Israehte who became a pubhcan, and declared him incompetent to bear witness in their courts, and the disgrace extended to his whole family. Nobody was allowed to take alms from one, or to ask him to change money for them. They were even classed with highway rob- bers and murderers,^^ or with harlots, heathen, and sinners. == m. Nedar No strict Jew would eat, or even hold intercourse, with them.33 " .ISr With a supreme indifference to the prejudices of the day, '^""•i'-- Jesus resolved to receive one of this proscribed order into the inner group of His followers. With a wide and generous charity He refused to condemn a whole class. That they were outcasts from society was a special reason why He, the Son of I^Ian, should seek to win them to a better life. He ^ refused to admit anything wrong in paying tribute to Cffisar, and hence saw no sin in its collection. There was no neces- sity for a pubhcan not being just and faithful, ahke to the people and to the State, and He had seen for Himself that 30 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP. xssiv there were some against whom nothing could be justly urged.' It was, moreover, a fundamental principle with Him, that the worst of men, if they sincerely repented, and turned to God, should be gladly received, as prodigal sons who sought to regain the favour of their Father in heaven. He had come to seek and to save that which was lost, and He sought to proclaim to mankind that He despaired of none, by recognizing, in the most hopeless, the possibility of good. Looking abroad on the world with a divine love and com- passion that knew no distinction of race or calling, He designed to show, at its very birth, that the kingdom He came to establish was open to all humanity, and that the only condition of citizenship was spiritual fitness. Among the publicans, at one of the posts for collecting duties, at Capernaum, was one whom his name, Levi, marked as belonging to the old priestly tribe, though, perhaps, born in Galilee, and now sunk to so questionable a position. He had another name, Matthew, however, by which he is better known as one of the Apostles, and the author of the first Gospel. His business was to examine the goods passing either way on the great high road between the territories of the two neighbouring tetrarchs, to enter them on the official record, to take the duties and credit them in his books, in order, finally, to pay over the gi'oss proceeds, at given times, to the local tax-farmer. He seems to have been in comfortable circumstances, and it is, perhaps, due to his clerkly habits as a publican, that we owe to him the earliest of the Gospels. He was the son of one Alpheus, the name of the father of James the Less. They may, however, have been different " Lightfoot, persons, as the name was a very common one ; ^^ and we Acts 1.13. 1 ' . know that there were two Judes, two Simons, and two called James, in the narrow circle of Jesus. Doubtless Levi, or JMatthew, had shown an interest in the new Teacher, and had been among the crowds that thronged Him. The quick eye of Jesus had read his heart, and seen his sincerity. Though a publican, he was a Jew, and showed repentance and hopeful trust, which made him a true son of Abraham. The booth in which, in Oriental fashion, he sat at his duties, was at the harbour of the town, CAU^ OF MATTHEW. 31 on tlie way to the shore where Jesus was in the habit of ohap.sxxiv addressing the throngs who now always followed Him, and it needed only a look and a word of the JMaster, to make him throw up his office, and cast in his lot with Him. At the command of Jesus he " left all, rose up, and followed Him ;" not, of course, on the moment, for he would have to take formal steps to release himself, and would require to settle his accounts with his superior, before he was free. Hence- forth, however, he attended Him who soon had not where to lay His head. It was a critical time for Jesus, and His admission of a publican as a disciple could not fail to irritate His enemies stiU more. But He had no hesitation in His course. Sent to the lost, He gladly welcomed, to His inmost circle, one of their number in whom He saw the germs of true spiritual life, in calm disregard of all the pre- judices of the time, and all the false religious narrowness of His fellow countrpnen, and their ecclesiastical leaders. He desired, in the choice of a publican as apostle, to embody visibly His love for sinners, and show the quickening virtue of the kingdom of God, even in the most unlikely. An act so entirely new and revolutionary, in the best sense, was too momentous in the eyes of Matthew to j^ass unnoticed. It was the opening of a new day for the mul- titudes whom the narrow self-righteousness of the Rabbis had bi'anded as under the curse of God, and had condemned as hopeless before Him. The new "call "of Jesus was in vivid contrast to that of Abraham and Moses, for Abraham had been separated even from his tribe, and JMoses summoned only the Jews to found the theocracy he proposed to estab- lish. The " call" which Matthew had obeyed was as infinitely comprehensive as the eaiiier ones had been rigidly exclusive. It showed that all would be admitted to the society Jesus was setting up, whatever their social position, if they had spiritual fitness for membership. Caste was utterly dis- allowed : before the great Teacher, all men, as such, were recognized as equally sons of the Heavenly Father. Accus- tomed from infancy to take this for granted, we cannot realize the magnitude of the gift this new principle inaugu- rated, or its astounding novelty. A Brahmin, who should 32 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP, ssxiv. proclaim it in India, and illustrate the social enfranchise- ment he taught, by raising a despised Pariah to his intimate intercourse and friendship, would be the only counterpart we can imagine at this day. It was natural, therefore, that Matthew should celebrate 36 Lukes. an event so unique as his call, by a "great feast ^"^ in his 29 39 Mark / ./ o 2. 1.5-22. house," in honour of Jesus ; and no less so that he should MattO.lO— 17. ' n^ • ^ • • • l i • invite a large number of his class, to rejoice ■with him at the new era opened to them, or that He should extend the invi- tation to his friends of the proscribed classes generally. A number of persons in bad odour with their more correct fel- low-citizens were, hence, brought together by him, along with the publicans of the locality, to do Jesus honour : persons branded by public opinion as " sinners," a name given indiscri- minately to usurers, gamblers, thieves, publicans, shepherds, »' sanh.xiT.2. aud scllei's of fruit gi'own in the sabbath 3^ears.^'' It might have seemed doubtful whether Jesus would sit down with such a company, for, even with us, it would be a bold step for any public teacher to join a gathering of persons in bad repute. The admission of Matthew to the discipleship must have seemed to many a great mistake. Nothing could more certainly damage the prospects of Jesus with the influential classes, or create a Avider or deeper prejudice and distrust. But nothing weighed for a moment with Him against truth and right. His soul w\as filled with a grand enthusiasm for humanity, and no false or narrow exclu- siveness of the day could be allowed to stand in its way. He accepted the invitation with the readiest cheerfulness, and spent the evening in the pleasures of friendly social intercourse Avith the strange assembly. The Rabbis had hardly as yet made up tlieir minds how to act respecting Hiin. They had attended John's preaching, though they did not submit to His baptism, Avhich Avould have been to own his sweeping charges against their order, as a brood of serpents. But Jesus had not as yet attacked them. He Avould fain have Avon them, as Avell as the people, to the kingdom of God. He had preached this kingdom, and the need of righteousness : had honoured Moses and the prophets : had pressed, as His great precepts, the love of THE KAEBIS AXT) JESTJS. 33 God and our neighbour ; and in all these matters the Pharisees chap, xxxiy. could support Him. He had enforced moderation on His disciples, and had sought intercourse with the Rabbis, rather than shunned it. His reply to their earher opposition was gentle, though unanswerable. No doubt He knew from the first that they would reject His overtures, but it was none the less right to seek to woo them to friendship, that they might enter His kingdom if they would.^^ Had they joined ss Matt. 9.6,1a; Him, their influence would have aided His work : if they refused, He had done His part. He did, indeed, win some. Here and there a Rabbi humbled himself to follow Him though He did not belong to the schools, and was the deadly opponent of their cherished traditions. Others hesitated, but some even of the leading Pharisees, as at Capernaum, invited Him to their houses and tables, listened to His teaching, reasoned modestly with Him, and treated Him, every way, with respect. He was looked upon by them as a friend of the nation, and the title of Rabbi was willingly criven Him ^^ "Matt, a 19; But it became clearer, each day, that there could be no Mark 12. 28. alliance between views so opposed as His and theirs. Where action was needed He would not for a moment conceal His difference from them, and ^latthcAv's feast was an occasion on which a great principle demanded decisive expression. To the Rabbis, and the Pharisees at large, nothing could be more unbecoming and irregular than the presence of Jesus at Matthew's feast. To be Levitically " clean," was the supreme necessity of their rehgious lives. They re- garded themselves as true friends of their race, and they were, in fact, the leaders of the nation. But they looked at men not simply as such, but through the cold superficial medium of an artificial theologj', which dried up their sympathy. Their philanthropy was narrowed to the limits of Levitical purity. Publicans and sinners, and the mass of the lower classes, were, to a Pharisee, hopelessly lost, because of their " uncleanness," and he shrank from all con- tact with them. He might wish to save, but he dared not touch, or come near them, and so left them to their misery and sin. No Pharisee Avould receive a person as a guest if he VOL. II. 42 34 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP. XXXIV. « MechUta, f. 37. 2. « Sepp, ii. 293. ' Kete, II. 29.5. Godwyn's Aaron and Moses, 41. Sepp, Leben, &c., ii. 203. Nork, .59, 112. Lighttoot, ii. 401. Buxtorf, IU6. <8 Clement, Pfcddg. il. 1. suspected that he was a "sinner."'*" He would not let one of the "Amhaaretz" — the common people — touch him.'*^ It was unlawful to come into their company, even Avith the holy design of inducing them to read the Law,*"^ and it was defilement to take food from them, or, indeed, from any stranger, or even to touch a knife belonging to them.*^ The thousands "unclean" from mere ignorance, or from their callings, or from carelessness, Avere an "abomination," "vermin," " unclean beasts," and "twice accursed."'" And as to touch the clothes of one of the "common people," defiled every Pharisee alike, the touch of those of a Pha- risee of a lower grade of Levitical purity defiled one of a higher. Like the Essenes, one Pharisee avoided the con- tact of another less strict, and, therefore, of a lower rank of holiness.*'^ It must, therefore, have been as if a Brahmin had out- raged every idea of Hindoo religion and morals, bj' sitting doA\'n at a meal with Sudras, when the Rabbis at Capernaum saAV and heard of Jesus reclining at table among a promis- cuous gathering of publicans and sinners.*^ They had not yet, however, come to open controversy with Him, and contented themselves with contem2)tuous taunts about Him to the disciples, Avho, as Jews, must have at least formerly sliared the sovereign contempt felt for such hated social outcasts. Even to hold a religious service with them would have been a breach of the LaAv, but to join them on a footing of friendly intercourse! "Founder of a new holy kingdom of God, and recline at table Avith publicans and sinners ! "^ How keenly such words must have wounded men like Peter, and the small knot of disciples as yet round Jesus, may be imagined. They had been taught in the school of the Baptist, an earnest Jew, Avho had enforced ultra-Pharisaic Judaism. The early scruples of Peter survived even to apostolic times.'" James Avas a Nazarite, if Ave can trust tradition, till his death,'' and even MatthcAv, the priesth' publican, for his name Levi shoAvs him to have been of priestly race, is said to have eaten, through life, only fruit, vegetables, and bread, but no flesh.^** In their perplexity and distress they appealed to Jesus. THE GREAT PHYSICIAN. 35 Hosea 6. 6. Matt 9.11—14. Mark 2.16— 18. LukeS.SO— 33. Lnko 18. 9. For parallels in heathen writers, Sepp It was well they did so, for theii' distress procured for all chap, sxxiv. ages an answer of divine sweetness and grandeur. "To whom sJwuld I go but to such as these ? The whole have no need of a physician, but they that are sick.' Turn to the prophets whom you revere, and think what the words of Hosea mean,"*^ ' I desire mercy'' and not sacrifice,' — acts rather than offerings — practical godliness, not legal forms — divine sympathy with the lost, rather than only the empty show of outward worship — for I have not come to call the righteou.s, but to call sinners to repentance. I expect nothing from men Avho think they are righteous and despise others.^" They feel no need of me. My help is needed for just such 'sinners' as they would have me leave to perish." Jesus had not, of course, the bodily sick in His thoughts. He spoke of the mass of the people of the middle and lower ranks, too sadly marked by religious shortcomings and unworthiness. The guests at Matthew's table were, doubt- less, • more or less open to accusations of covetousness, impurity, indifference to morality and religion, and trouble- someness as citizens. John would have kept himself aloof from them, unless they came as penitents, for baptism. He had lived in wildernesses, apart from men, shrinking from the turmoil of the great world. He had even forbidden lawful enjoyments and pleasures. He had sought to build up the Kingdom of Heaven on the lonely banks of the Jordan, far from men, by sternly commanding the broken hearts that sought j^eace and consolation fi'om him, to hve lives of Jewish austerity and rej^entance. Jesus required a change of heart no less than he, but He did not lead men out of the world to secure it, or burden life with the anxiety and disquiet of an outward purity. He came trustfully to them into their little world, bringing with Him a heart full of divine benevolence and tender gentle- ness. In His eyes they were "sick," and He treated them like a true physician, entering into all their interests, sym- pathizing with their cares and sorrows, realizing their special wants, and bearing Himself as a friend among friends. They were men, and, as such, capable of sorrow for sin, and efforts 36 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. OHAP. xxxiY. towards a nobler life. They had hearts to recognize good- ness, and might thus be won to faith in Himself, as the ideal of the highest spiritual life. Nothing can mark the grandeur of Hisenthusiasm for humanity, more than that He thus proposed to lay the foundation of His kingdom in a class on which the priests and theologians, and the higher ranks of the day, looked down with haughty contempt and moral aversion. It shows how deeply He looked into things, that He recognized the greater openness for the Truth, of castes thus discredited ; their franker and more decisive bearing towards the startling innovations of His teaching ; their deeper longing for peace of conscience and reconciliation to God. It was the sense of this that had led to the choice of His first disciples from the ranks of the people ; and it was this, in part, that led to that of Matthew. In his case, however, there was, also, the proclamation of His indifference to outward distinctions, or rules, afterwards formulated by Peter, who had never for- gotten the lesson, into the memorable words — " Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons, but, in every nation, he that feareth Him, and worketh righteousness, is "Acta 10.85. accepted of Him."''^ A truth evident enough to-day, but carrying with it, when inaugurated by Jesus, an entire revolution in the religious history of mankind. The divine charity that ran so counter to the narrow pride of the Rabbis was no less startling to the disciples of John, but there were other difficulties to both. No open bi'each had yet taken place, and a friendly conference might explain much. Jesus had silently left the harsh discipline of fasting behind, and had prescribed no formal rules for prayer,' such as were common to the Rabbis and their disciples, and to those of the Baptist; and now a deputation came to ask Him for an explanation."" The law of Moses had appointed only one fast in the year, on the Day of Atonement, but the Rabbis had added many, both public and private. They enjoined one for the destruction of Jerusalem by the Chal- deans, and others for various incidents connected with the siege, or the troubles of the first period after the Cap- tivity. There was another to lament the day on which the translation of the Scriptures into Greek had been finished, JEWISH IDEAS OF PRAYER. 37 and every public calamity or emergency was signalized by chap.xxsiv. a fast specially enjoined by the authorities. It was rather to private fasts, however, that allusion was made. Strict Pharisees, aiming at the highest degree of merit, fasted voluntarily every Monday and Thursday, to commemorate, respectively, the going up of Moses to the Mount on the fifth day, to receive the renewed tables of the Commandments, and his descent on the second. They often added other fasts, ^^ to have lucky dreams, and to obtain their interpre- '^ ^^^^'^^^^l^^ tation, for, like the Essenes, the Pharisees looked on fasts L^htfooi, as a prepai'ation for receiving revelations. They fasted also to avert evil, or to procure some good. Mortification and self-infliction had become a formal religious merit, in the mercenary theology of the day, and was paraded before the world by some, to heighten their reputation for holiness.^^^ Matt.6.i6. The idea had, at first, risen from a fancied opposition be- tween the body and the soul ; as if the latter could only be duly raised by depressing the former. But asceticism was contrary to the genius of the new kingdom of God, which laid no stress on meat, or drink, or abstinence from them, but on " righteousness, peace, and joy, in the Holy Ghost." ^■^ =» Bom. 14. 17. Even prayer had been reduced to a mechanical system, as part of "the hedge of the Law," invented by the Rabbis. No one could lay greater stress on it than Jesus, when of- fered as the utterance of contrite humility ; but, as a part of a system of merit like the Rabbinical theology of the day, He held it lightly. No precepts could be more worthy than many found, even yet, in the Rabbis, respecting the true worth of prayer ;° but, in practice, these higher teachings had fallen into -nade disuse. It had come to be tedious for length, and abounded in repetitions.^' Fixed rules for cor- ss ofrorer, a rect prayer were taught, with fixed hours, and prescribed Maw-e.?. forms, and superstitious power was assigned to the mere words. The householder was to repeat the Sch'ma in his house each evening, to drive away e\'il spirits. To say it when in bed was like grasping a two-edged sword, to slay the assaulting demons.^*^ The mere form of prayer, if re- " ^^f°^ peated rightly and often, was counted as merit laid up in ^;jff^' 38 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP, sssiv. heaven. To repeat the Sch'ma was, in fact, in the phrase of the Rabbis, "to make the kingdom of Heaven one's " Gfrorer, U, OWn " ''^ •143. It could not be doubtful how Jesus would bear Himself to views so opposed to inner and spiritual religion. Silently omitting any reference to the objection respecting prayer, He addressed Himself to the question of fasting. " His pre- sence with His disciples was like that of a bridegroom with » w'uier.Ehe, His compauious, during the marriage rejoicings.^^ Could foot,' ii. 171. He ask them to fast while He was with them ? It would be Matt.9 .1.5—17. Y.^l'u^o' ti°^^ f'^1' them to do so when He was taken away from them. They would fast then !" Seizing the opportunity, and ad- dressing the disciples of John especially, He went even further. " John had sought to do what was worse than hojieless — to renew the old theocracy, by merely external reform; to patch up the old and torn robe of Judaism, and make it serve a new age. It was as vain as a man's sewing a piece of raw unteazled cloth on the rent of an old gar- ment ; the patch could only tear off so much more, and make the rent worse, while the patch would itself be a mere shred. Or, it was like putting new wine into old skins, which must burst when the wine fermented." New teaching, like His, must be put into new bottles; the forms and rites that had sefved till now were of no more use : a new' dispensation had come, which these forms would only MBibeiLei. cumbcr.^' New forms were needed for the new religious schJiei,42. life He came to introduce." John the "Words SO fatal to cherished prejudices must have struck Baptist, 418. . BaoBrath,!. (Jeep, but the hearts He had unavoidably wounded were not left without tender soothing. *' It was no wonder that John bad clung to the faith of his fathers, even in its outward accidents. He had drunk of the old wine, and would not change it for new, contented to know that ' the old was good.' " Henceforth, however, the position of Jesus to the worn-out forms of the past was unmistakable. He had chosen His path, and would lead mankind from the bondage of the letter to the freedom of the spirit, and the worshippers of the letter arrayed themselves against Him. As became the founder of the first religion of the spirit alone, the world EEWAEDS OF THE KINGDOM. 39 had seen, He henceforth silently ignored the ceremonial chap, xxxiy. law, avoiding open condemnation, but bearing Himself towards it throughout, as He did in the matter of circumci- sion, which He never enforced on His disciples, or demanded from believing heathen, and never commended, though He never, in words, condemned it. The whole ritual system, of which it was the most prominent feature, was treated as merely indifferent.^" » schenkei,6s. It was indescribably touching to see, at the very threshold of our Lord's public life, that even when He uses so joyous an image of Himself as that of a bridegroom, He dashes- in the picture with shadow. He had begun His course by the Temptation, but from it till the close. His path lay through struggle, suffering, and self-sacrifice, to a far other glory than that which the world expected in the Messiah. He would, indeed, have known His nation, and their Roman masters ; the dominant Pharisees, and the priest- hood, badly, not to have foreseen, from the first, that He would have to pass through the fiercest conflict, only to reach a tragic end. Thoughts of self-denial, self-sacrifice, even to the surrender of Ufe ; of losing life that He might gain it ; of the corn dying that it might bring forth fruit, run like a dark thread through aU His discourses, to the very end. He sends His apostles forth like sheep amongst wolves ; fore- tells their suffering the bitterest persecution ; and consoles them only with the one thought that it should content the disciple to be on the same footing with Himself.^^ In the «> Matt. lo. sermon on the Mount, He predicts that all who believe on Him win suffer hatred and evil treatment.®^ He recognizes those « iiatt.5. 10-12. only as His true followers who, denying themselves, take up His cross and bear it.*^^ He has nothino; to promise His ^s Mark a 34, 35 Ma.t.f- 10. 38 39 disciples but that they should be servants, submitting patiently to the extremest wrong, and has no higher vision even for Himself''* He may rejoice as the bridegroom with « Matt. 9. is. His friends, for a time, but will soon be taken away from them.*'^ A kingdom founded on such a basis of deliberate «= Diimann,ii2. self-denial and self-sacrifice, is unique in the history of the world. 40 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP. XXXV. t Mark 3. 22 llatt. 11. 24. Luke 11. 15. Mark 6. 1. Luke 4 29. ' Mark 2. 18. Matt. 5. 1. Luke 13. 26. Matt. IG. 1; CHAPTER XXXV. THE CHOICE OF THE TWELVE, AND THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. HOW long Jesus remained at Capernaum is not told us, but Ave may readily believe that He was glad to leave it, with its gathering opposition, as soon as possible. It was His centre of action, but the kingdom needed to be proclaimed over the whole land. Preaching was the special agency on which He relied, far more than on any displays of supernatural power. It was by it He designed to work the stupendous spiritual miracle of the new birth of Israel and of Humanity. As the first founder of a religion which had no code of laws, and repudiated force, addressing itself solely to the free convictions of men, the living word and its illustration in His own life, were alone open to Him as means for its diffusion. The hearts and souls must be won over to the highest truth, by persuading the con- science, and thus influencing the will. In these earlier months He took advantage of the facilities of the Synagogue service, to gain the ear of the people, but His preaching was very different from the stereotyped lifelessness of the Rabbis, and excited universal astonishment by its originality, power, "and resistless enthusiasm.^ At a later time, when His " new doctrine " had roused the opposition of the authorities, the use of the synagogues was no longer per- mitted Him."^ But, even from the first. He did not confine Himself to fixed times or places. He addressed the people on the shores of the lake, on the lonely slopes and valleys of the hills, in the streets and market-places of towns and villages, at the crossing points of the public roads, and even in houses;^ any place, indeed, that offered an audience, was alike to Him. The burden and spirit of His preaching THE KING OF THE NEW THEOCRACY. 41 may be gathered from the Gospels throughout. He pro- ch.vp. xssv. dauned Himself the "Good Shepherd seeking to bring back the lost sheep to the heavenly fold ; to quicken and turn towards God the weak, sinful human will, and to breathe into the soul aspirations after a higher spiritual life, from the fullness of His own perfect example.'* < Bibei Lei. ii. To win all, He moved as a man among men, a friend among friends ; a helper amongst all who needed help, declining every outward honour or flattery, or even the appearance of either.^ While advancing the most amazing = Mark 10.17. pretensions as His kingly prerogative, He was, personally, so meek and lowly that He could make this gentle humility a ground for the trust and unembarrassed approach of all who were troubled. Content with obscurity, and leaving to others the struggle for distinction or place, He chose a life so humble that the poorest had no awe of His dignity, but gathered round Him as their special friend. His tastes were in keeping with this simplicity, for He delighted in the society of the lowly, and children clustered in His steps with the natural instinct that detects one who loves them. He was never engrossed by His own aifairs, but ever ready to give Himself up to those of others — to counsel them in difficulties, to sympathize with them in their sorrows or joys, and to relieve their sickness or wants.'' It is His grand pecu- " EfceHomo, liarity, that there is a total oblivion of self in His whole life. The enthusiasm of a divine love, in the pure light of which no selfish thought could live, filled His whole soul. He showed abiding sympathy for human weakness,^ and to ' iiark 1*. sa. cheer the outcast and hopeless. He announced that He came to seek such as to others seemed lost. In His joy over a sinner won back to righteousness He hears even the angels of God rejoicing. There had never appeared in any age such a man, such a friend, or such a helper. He seemed the contrast of a king or prince, and yet all His words were kingly ; all His acts a succession of the kingliest deeds, decisions, and commands, and His whole pubhc life, the silent and yet truest founda- tion of an everlasting kingdom. He must, indeed, have seemed anything rather than the founder of a new society, 42 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. OHAP.xxxv. or of a new empire, and it must have startled men when they found that He had, by His works and life, established in the midst of the old theocracy the framework of the most impei-ishable and the widest-reaching empire this earth has ever seen ; an empire before which all former religious systems were to fade away. But though His absolute self- control was never intermitted, there were times when the claims of the truth, or the service of His kingdom, brought out the full grandeur of His power and kingly greatness. It was thus when He had to meet and confute prejudice and error, or to heal the sick and diseased. At times we shall see Him forced to blame and condemn, but this was only a passing shadow on the clear heaven of His unvarying grace and love. It is impossible to realize such an appearance, but we can imagine it in some measure. The stainless truth and uprightness which filled His whole nature ; the exhaustless love and pity, which were the very breath of His spirit ; the radiant joy of the bridegroom wedding redeemed humanity ; the calm light as of other woi-lds in His every look, may well account for the deathless love and devotion He inspired in those whom He suffered to » Eirald, follow Him.^ ?.'806,'307°' The widening success of His work had already required an addition to the small circle of His immediate attendants. But a single accession, like that of Matthew, was, erelong, not enough. It soon became necessary to select a larger number who might be constantly in His company, and receive His instructions, that they might, in due time, go forth to proclaim the kingdom over a Avider area than He could Himself reach. Its laws, its morality, its relations to the Old Dispensation, must be taught them, and they must catch His enthusiasm by such a lengthened intercourse in » Ewaid,v.4M. the familiarity of private life, as would kindle^ in their souls the ideal He presented. That they should follow Him at all would be left to themselves, but the choice would be made .« Mark 3. 13. by Himsclf,!" of g^ch as, on various grounds, He saw fittest. u Luke 6. 13. They were to be Apostles," or missionaries, and would have, for their high commission, the organization of the new kin"-domof God, first in Israel, and then through the Avorld. SmCEEITT DEMANDED. 43 To accept such an invitation implied no little enthusiasm, cm^psxs No earthly reward was held out, but, on the contrary, the sacrifice of all personal claims was demanded. They were to abandon their former calling, Avhatever it might be, with all its present or prospective advantages, to give up all family ties, to bear the worst indignities and ill-treatment, and yet repress even just resentment. They were to hold their lives at His service, and willingly yield them, if it required the sacrifice.-^"^ A measure of self-restriction is implied as '= Ecce Home the basis of any state, for no society could flourish where its interests, as a whole, are not spontaneously considered before those of the indi-sddual citizen. But the self-abnegation required by Jesus in those admitted to that which He was now founding, was without a parallel, for while earthly states return an equivalent, in many ways, for the self- surrender they impose. He proclaimed from the first that those who joined His kingdom must do so "hoping for nothing again" to compensate for any self-sacrifice, even the greatest. In the case of the " Apostles," the self-surrender was not merely contingent, but present and final, for He held before them no prospect through life but privation and persecution, and even possible martyrdom. In the next world, indeed. He promised rewards, but He precluded mere mercenary hopes even of these, by making them conditional on unfeigned sincerity in the obedience to His laws and love of His person. The mere hypocrite — or actor — could have no object in joining Him, and was indignantly de- nounced. The truest honesty in word and deed were alone accepted, o-nd the want of it, in any degree, was the one fatal moral defect. ^^ „ ^^^^ ^^^^ It is not surprising, therefore, that all who oflered them- ^^'■ selves as His followers were not accepted. Where He saw unfitness, he repelled advances. To a Rabbi who came saluting Him as "Teacher," and professing his willingness to follow Him as His disciple, He returned the discouraging answer, that the foxes had holes, and the birds of the air nests, but the Son of Man — the iMessiah'^— had not where to lay His head.^* It might have seemed of moment to secure " Matt. 8.19. the support of a Rabbi, but Jesus had seen the worldly bent 44 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. oHAP^xxxv. of his thoughts, and thus turned him aside, by blasting any hopes of advantage or honour in joining Him. E^ven in- decision or hesitation, whatever the ground, was fiital to admittance to His favour. The request of a disciple to go first and bury his father, before finally following Him, was only met by the command to follow Him at once, and leave the spiritually dead to bury the corporeally dead : to put off decision, even for so worthy a cause as desire to perform the last offices to a father, was dangerous I " Go, thou, and ■^ Luke 9. 60. preach the kingdom of God."^* The devotion due to it, unreservedly, could not be shared, even by the claims of affec- tion and earthly duties." A request to be allowed to bid his household farewell, before finally leaving them, was met by a similar answer — "No man having put his hand to the "Lake9.62. plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God."i« The indispensable condition of admittance into the inner circle who followed and lived with Him, was an engrossing enthusiasm for Himself and His work, which permitted •> Ewaiiv.ssi. concern for no second interest whatever.^' He had determined to surround Himself with a small body of such trustworthy followers, limiting the number, by an association natural to His race, to twelve. They were to form the closest, inmost circle of His disciples, and to be, in fact. His friends and companions. He would give them His fullest confidence : open His mind to them more fully than to others : and, by living among them, inspire them with His own fervour, and mould them to His own likeness. They would see how His soul never unbent from its grand enthusiasm: how He never wearied in His transcendent devotion of body and spirit to His work. In seeing and hearing Him, they would gain experience : in the opposition and trials they met in His company, their fidelity would be put to the test, and, in the end, they would be qualified for the special work for which they had been chosen — to be sent forth to preach, and to repeat the miraculous -works '» Marks. 14. of their Master, as evidence of His divine authority.^* It is not stated definitely where the selection of the Apostles was made. His preaching had already gained a "" USfesuitic " f^'^^^ multitude "" of disciples, who followed Him in His and the Vatican MSS. CHOICE OF APOSTLES. 45 journey from town to town, along with a vast crowd drawn chap.xxxv. after Him by various motives. The movement was rapidly assuming an importance Hke that of John's ; it was extend- ing over the nation. "Withdrawing Himself, as was His frequent custom, from the throng, by night, He retired once more into the hills to pray, and continued in devotion tiU morning.^" Brought up among hills, He was ever fond of 2» Lake 6.13. their solitude, their pure air and open sky, which seemed to bring Him nearer His Father. It was somewhere, apparently, in the hilly background of the Sea of Galilee, for though spoken of as "the mountain," there are no means of deciding the precise locality. When the day broke, instead of seeking rest, He showed the subject of His night-long communion with His Heavenly Father, by proceeding to select His future Apostles. The crowd of His disciples had returned with the new day, from the neighbouring towns and villages where they had spent the night, when Jesus, coming doAvn from His solitary devotions, gathered them once more round Him, and " calling to Him whom He Himself would," " appointed twelve, that they might be with Him, and that He should send them forth to preach — to heal sicknesses, and to cast out devils." ^^ a Marks. 1S,I4. His choice was necessarily made from a comparatively small number, for the majority must have lately joined Him, and must thus have been, as yet, little knoA\ai.-'^ So = schenkei,76. far as possible He made His selection from those who had been longest with Him, and whom He had, in some measure, proved; but they were as a whole, sim2)le, unlearned, plastic men of the people, for Jesus had already seen that the spiritual regeneration of Israel must rise from the humbler classes.-^ He knew that the educated men of the nation, the» Matt. n.25. Rabbis and priests, were perverted and prejudiced, and He Apostel could not look to the officials or authorities of any grade, or to the prevailing religious schools. The commonalty were sounder, freer from the erroi'S of the age, — more open to the eternal truths He came to announce, and more ready to accept the spiritual kingdom He came to found.-^ Yet, it =' Haae, 149. may be, that had the choice been wder, some one might have been available from the trained intellects of the nation, with 46 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. cHAP.xxxY. results it would be vain to conjecture. Had Paul been one of the twelve, now chosen by Christ, how much might the genius, the Rabbinical training, the breadth of mind, and the grand loving enthusiasm which almost founded Westei'n Christianity, have changed, in the history told by the Gospels? He laid no stress on their former social position, or religious party, for they included, on the one side, a pub- lican, who was also a Levite, and on the other, one who had belonged to the ultra-puritan zealots, the fanatical party of Judas the Galilasan. Nor did He require them to be unmar- ried, for Peter, we know, had a wife, and if we may trust the tradition of the Armenian Church, the only Apostlea » Ewaid,T.395. who were single were the sons, of Zebedee,'' and Thomas. -'' The Capernaum circle yielded Him no fewer than seven of the twelve, — Peter, and his brother Andrew, who lived Avith him; two sons from the house ofZabdai, — James and John ; two sons of Alphajus,'' — James the Little, and Jude, who is commonly distinguished as Lebba>us, the stout-hearted, — or Ha^mihfi.' ThaddaMis, the brave.-^ The publican Matthew was also from Capernaum, and was the third from the household of Alphanis, if the name refer to the father of James the Little and Jude; and Philip belonged to the village of Bethsaida in its innncdiate neighbourhood, making in all, eight of the twelve, virtually from the same favoured place. Of the remaining four, Nathanael, the son of Talmai, the Bar- tholomew of our version, was from Cana, on the north side of the plain of El Battauf, on which Jesus had so often looked doA\ai from the Nazareth hill-top. Thomas — ready to die, but slow to beheve : manly and full of grave tenderness, «' cs*F!(isam).a — whosc Hcbrcw name^'' was sometimes turned into the (t«ma), ' Greek equivalent Didymus, the tvan, — was the same person, Didymual-a — ouc tradition says, — as Judas, the brother of Jesus, as twin. if Mary had had a double birth, after bearing her eldest If so, one of the household amongst whom Our Saviour had gi'own up, one son of His mothei*, redeemed the general coldness of the rest. The name of Simon the Zealot, another Galiltean, and that of the only Apostle » rf-;-;! o-s from Judea, — Judas, the traitor, of the village of Kerioth,^^ the ma "of ' in the south of Juda — close the list. Kerioth. SAINT PETER. 47 Such was the band which Jesus now gathered round Him. ch.\p. xxxv. At least four, — James and John, and James the Little and Jude, — seem to have been His relations, or connections, to whom, if we accept the tradition I have quoted, we must add Thomas.'^ One, at least, was of priestly race, — the degenerate Levite, Matthew, who liad sunk to an office held so utterly infamous as a publican's. He and the sons of Zebedee seem to have been in a fair position, but Peter, whom we see in the forty days after the Resurrection, once more busy as a fisherman, in his boat on the Lake of Galilee ; naked, perhaps literally, as the fishermen there still often are," that he might the better, like them, drag the net after him through the water, as he swam with it ; or casting his fisher's coat round him, and leaping into the Lake to swim ashore to Jesus,^*' is, it may be, a fair illustration of the social » John 21. 7. position of most of His brethren in the Apostolate. Li the lists given in the Gospels, Peter, the host of His Lord, at Capernaum, always holds the first place, but there are variations in the order assigned to others. A true Gali- laean — Peter Avas energetic and fiery, rather than self-con- tained and reflective. Warm-hearted and impulsive, he had at once the strength and weakness of such a temperament. He is always the first to speak for his brethren ; he craves ear- nestly one moment what he as earnestly refused the moment before ; he is the first to draw the sword for Jesus, but also the first to deny Him. John recognizes his risen Master first at the Lake of Galilee, but Peter throws himself forthwith into the Lake, and is the first to reach Jesus' feet ; he acts on the moment, and has even to be rebuked for being too ready mth his counsel. Though for a moment he denies Christ, a look melts him, and tradition only fills up what we feel a true picture, when it tells us that he Tose each night, through life, at the hour at Avhich he had sinned so weaklv, to pray for forgiveness ; or when it speaks of him, at last, as crucified \nt\i his head downwards, thinking himself un- worthy of a nearer approach to the death of his Lord. In Peter, Jesus had an apostle who gave up his Avhole being to his Master. No one was more receptive of lofty impressions, and ■nith this moral sensibility, there was a 48 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP.xxsv. ready, quick, happy insight, which di\-ined the significance of his ^Master's Avords witli swift intelhgence. Yet, with this delicacy of forecast, and true conception of the inner and the expressed thoughts of Jesus ; with his quick eye for the signs of the times, and his zeal to act on their indications, he was deficient in sharp logical power of thought, and in tenacious strength of will. In this combination of strength and weakness, he was the most perfect type of the Galilaiau in the Apostolate, and became a special friend of Jesus, who found in him the most enthusiastic of His followers ; the reflection, in some respects, of His own nature, and a heart than which none beat truer, though in the most decisive moments he proved no firm support, but a bending reed, weak « Keim.ii.3io. from momentary trust in himself rather than on his Lord.^^ Reynolds' "^ rtop°s!"3L James and John, the sons of Zabdai, were men of a scii.ukci,7e. (•iifj-,.ri.nt mould. They supplied what was wanting in Peter. Ready to accept the new ideas, and reproducing them for themselves, with mingled enthusiasm and freshness of conception, they had the same intense devotion to their Master as Peter, with something, at times, of the same art- less and unconscious self-prominence. Their energy of will, and quick flaming up at any opposition, were marked features of both, and obtained for them, from Jesus, the name of "the Sons of Thunder." In their zeal for their Master they would have called down judgnient from heaven against an inhospitable village, and Avished to silence an unknown worker who spoke in the name of Christ, without belonging to the twelve. In James, the Apostles had their first martyr, but John lived to be the last survivor of them all. Hot zeal, based on intense devotion, was, however, only a passing characteristic, at least of John. He, of all the twelve, drank deepest into his ]\Iaster's Spirit, and realized it most. Self-contained, meditative, tender, he thought less of Christ's acts, than of the words which Avere the reveljitions of His inner Being. His Avhole spiritual nature gave itself up to loving contemplation of the won- drous life passing before him. We owe to him, in his Gospel, an image of the higher nature of our Lord, such as only one to whom He Avas all in all could have painted. If perfect love THE APOSTLES. 49 K Reynolds, 31. Schenkel, 95. Kenan. L'Antechrist, 348. Nork, 117. Hase, 142. Ewald, T. 233. beget love in return, it was inevitable that John should win chap, xxxv. the supreme jjlace in Christ's affection. If the disciple leaned on the Master s bosom, it was because he had sho-\vn the love that at the last brought him, alone, of the twelve, to the foot of the Cross.^^ Of Andrew, the brother of Peter, we know very little. We have to trust to tradition, alone, for his history, after Christ's death. He is said, by one legend, to have gone among the Scythians, and, on this ground, the Russians have made him their national Saint. Another assigns Greece, and afterwards Asia Minor and Thrace, as the scene of his work, and speaks of him as put to death in Achaia, on a cross of the form since known by his name. The incidental notices of the others, in the Gospels, are very slight, and need not be anticipated. Philip is said, in the ecclesiastical legends, to have been a chariot driver; Bartholomew, a shep- herd, or gardener. But no name is more striking in the list than that of Simon the Zealot,* for to none of the twelve could the contrast be so vivid between their former and their new position. What revolution of thought and heart could be greater than that which had thus changed into a follower of Jesus one of the fierce war party of the day, which looked on the presence of Rome in the Holy Land as treason against the Majesty of Jehovah — a party who were fanatical in their Jewish strictness and exclusiveness ? Like many others of the twelve, he is little more than a name. Lideed, even in the second century, tlie vaguest traditions were all that survived of any but two or three of them. They were men of no high commanding powei-s, to make their names rise on all men's tongues, but they, doubtless, in every case but that of the betrayer, did their work faithfully, and effected results of permanent value in the spread of the Kingdom. Still more, they displayed before the world, for the first time, the then amazing spectacle and teaching of a Christian life. That we know so Uttle of men who were such sio-nal benefactors of the race, is only what we have to ponder in the cases of those to whom the world has owed most. It is the law, in the moral as in the physical world, that one sows and another reaps, and the seed which bears the golden VOL. II. 43 50 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP, xxsv. ears has long died away unremembered, before the gather- ing of the autumn sheaves. It is touching to think of Jesus surrounded by the little band He had thus chosen — simple, true-hearted men, indeed, but needing so much to fit them for their amazing honour, and momentous duties. No wonder they were timid and » M»tt. le. 7. reverent before Him :^* no wonder that He was so sorely tried John 13. 22; • i i • i ti . i -, ■, , 6.18. With their dull apprehension and weak human short- comings, as to speak sternly or sadly to them at times ; once indeed, with the words, " 0 unbelieving generation, how long shall I be with you, how long shall I suffer you? "e He calls them "of little understanding," "hardened," « Mark4.i3,40; " fcarful," " worldly," and " of little faith."^* But amidst all, 32:i; lo'l^?' *^^y " continued with Him in His trials "^^ till the end, and .. f \^''^,";f ■ He forgot their faiUngs in the tender thought, that if their s« Lnko 22, 28. " o P ) flesh was weak, their spirit was Avilling. They were His " Matt. 25.40. "brethren,"^' His "servants," His "fellow-workers," His "little John 18. SIS. ), TT- jotoisl'sx' children, His " little ones,' and, even, as the end approached, fohnisMis. " His friends." He might, at times, have to reprove them, but His bearing towards them, day by day, was a loving con- descension to their weakness, and a patient effort to draw them to Himself, as far as possible. There is no trace of such formal instruction as the Rabbis gave their followers ; they had rather to listen to His words to the people, and ask Him B Mark 7. 17. in prlvatc for explanation where needed.^* He rather trained and developed their spiritual character, than indoctrinated B Mark 10. 35. thcm in systematic theology.^^ Above all. He lived before them, and was Himself their great lesson. Nor can there be a more striking illustration of the completeness -s^dth which they forgot their own being in the presence of their Master, than the silence of the writers of the Gospels respecting themselves in their records of Jesus. He, alone, filled their eye, their thoughts, their hearts. They had been like children before Him, while He was mth them, and in the hallowed reverence of their remembered intercourse. His image filled the whole retrospect, to the utter subordination of all things else. The months they had spent in His company under the palm-trees, or on the hills, or by the sea ; when they breathed the same air with Him ; heard His voice ; saw SCENE OF THE HILL-SERMON. 51 His life ; and wondered at His miglity acts, — raised them, chap, xsxv in their o^^^l beUef, above the prophets and the kings, who had longed for such a vision of the Messiah, but had not had it vouchsafed them.*'' « Luke lo. 24. Of the preaching of Jesus, the Gospel preserves numerous fragments, but no lengthened abstract of any single dis- course, except that of the "Sermon on the Mount." It seems to have been delivered immediately after the choice of the twelve, to the disciples at lai-ge and the multitude who thronged to hear the new Rabbi. Descending from the higher point to which He had called up His Aj^ostles, He came towards the crowd, which waited for Him at a level place below.*^ There were numbers from every part — from " Luke e. n. Judea and Jerusalem in the south, and even from the sea- coast of T}Te and Sidon ; some to hear Him, others to be cured of their diseases, and many to be delivered from unclean spirits. The commotion and excitement were great at His appearance, for it had been found that to touch Him was to be cured, and, hence, aU sought, either by their own efforts, or with the help of friends, to get near enough to Him to do so. After a time, however, the tumult was stayed, all having been healed, and He proceeded, before they broke up, to care for their spiritual, as He had already for their physical wants. Tradition has chosen the hiU known as the "Horns of Hattin,"''^ two horn-Uke heio-hts, risinar sixty feet above the« Pauiussup- ' . . poses a hill plain between them — two hours west of Tiberias, at the JhesJne^Dio mouth of the gorge which opens, past ]\Iagdala, into the ^l^^ulii. wild cliffs of Arbela, famous in the history of the Zealots as their hiding-place, and famous also for Herod's battles in mid-air at the mouths of their caves, by means of great cages filled with soldiers let down the precipices. It is greatly in favour of this site, to find such a WTiter as Dean Stanley saying, that the situation so strikingly coincides with the intimations of the Gospel narrative, as almost to force the inference, that, in this instance, the eye of those who selected the spot was rightly guided.**^ The plain on which t^^ " |^gJ^^''36o hill stands is easily accessible from the Lake, and it is only a few minutes' walk from it to the summit, before reaching 52 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. " Tholuck, Borgprcdigt, in toe. CHAP. XXXV. which, a broad " level place " has to be crossed — exactly suited for the gathering of a multitude together. It was to this, apparently, that Jesus came dovra, from one of the higher horns, to address the people. Seated on some slightly " iraimonides; clcvated rock — for the teacher always sat while he taught^^ — quoted by j cj Nork,cxciiL ij^Q people and the disciples sitting at His feet, on the grass ; the cloudless Sp'ian sky over them ; the blue Lake, ■with its moving life, on the one hand, and, in the far north, the grand form of Hermon, glittering in the upper air ; He began what is to us the Magna Charta*' of our faith, and to the hearers must have been the formal inauguration of the new kingdom of God. The choice of the twelve Apostles and the Sermon on the Mount mark a turning j^oint in the public life of Jesus. A crisis in the development of His work had arrived. He had, till now, taken no steps towards a formal and open separation from Judaism, but had contented Himself with gathering converts, whom He left to follow the new life He taught, without any organization as a distinct communion. The symptoms of an approaching rupture with the priests and Rabbis had, however, forced on Him more decisive action. He had met the murmurs at the healing of the paralytic, by the triumphant vindication of the language which had given offence. The choice of a publican as a disciple immediately after, had been a further expression of the fundamental opposition between His ideas and those of the schools and the Temple, and His justification of the disuse by His disciples, of the outward rites and forms which were vital in the eyes of the orthodoxy of the day, had been another step in the same divergent path. He had openly sanctioned the omission of fasts, and of mechanical rules for prayer,' which were sacred with the Rabbis. He had even set the old and new order of things in contrast, and had thus assumed independent authority as a religious teacher , the sum of all offence in a rigid theocracy. The choice of the twelve, and the Sermon on the Mount, were the final and distinct proclamation of His new jjosition. The Apostles must have seemed, to a Jew, the twelve patriarchs of a new spiritual Israel, to be substituted for the THE AUDIENCE. 53 old ; tlie heads of new tribes, to be gathered by their chap, xsxv. teaching, as the future people of God. The old skins had been proved unfit for the new wine ; henceforth, new skins must be pro\dded ; new forms, for a new faith. The society * thus organized needed a promulgation of the laws under which it was to live, and this it received in the Sermon on the Mount. The audience addressed consisted of the newly chosen twelve ; the unknown crowd who heard Him with favour, and were, hence, spoken of as His disciples :'^^ and the « orotius, on I'll TT- p 1 • 1 Matt.12.49. promiscuous multitude drawn to Him, tor the time, by vai'ious motives. Jesus had no outer and inner circle, for pubHc and secret doctrines, like the Rabbis, for, though He explained to the twelve, in private, any points in His dis- courses they had not understood, the discourses themselves were deUvered to all who came to hear them. This Sermon, which is the fullest statement we have of the nature of His kingdom, and of the condition and duties of its citizenship, was spoken under the open sky, to all who happened to form His audience. In this great declaration of the principles and laws of the Christian republic — a republic in the relations of its citizens to each other — a kingdom, in their relations to Jesus, the omissions are no less striking than the demands. There is no reference to the priests or Rabbis — till then the undisputed authorities in religion — nor is the rite of circum- cision even mentioned, though it made the Jew a member of the Old Covenant, as a mere theocratic form, apart from moral requirements. It is not condemned, but it is ignored. TiU now, a vital condition of entrance into the kingdom of God, it is so no more. Nor are any other outward forms more in favour. The new kingdom is to be founded only on righteousness and love, and contrasts with the old by its spiritual freedom, untrammeled by outward rules. It opposes to the nationality and limitation of the old theocracy a universal invitation, with no restriction except that of character and conduct. Citizenship is offered to all who sincerely believe in Jesus as the Messiah, and honestly repent before God. Even the few opening sentences mark 54 TUE LIFE OF CHEIST. oHAP.xxsv. the revolution in religious conceptions Avliich the new faith involves. Temporal evil, which, under the former dispen- sation had been the mark of divine displeasm-e, became, in the teaching of Jesus, the mark of fellowship, and pledge of heavenly reward. The opinion of the day regarded poverty, hungei*, trouble, and i^ersecution as punishments for sin : He enumerates them as blessings. Throughout the whole Sermon, no political or theocratic ideas find place, but only spiritual. For the first time in the history of religion, a communion is founded without a priesthood, or off"erings, or a Temple, or ceremonial services ; without symbolical worship, or a visible sanctuary. There is an utter absence of everything external or sensuous: the grand spiritual truths of absolute religious freedom, love, and righteousness, alone are heard. Nor is the kingdom, thus founded, in itself visible, or corporate, in any ordinary sense ; it is manifested only by the witness of the Spirit in the heart, and by the power going forth from it in the life.'*^ In the fine words of Herder, ^^ Christianity was founded in direct opposition to the stupid dependence on customs, formuhc, and empty usages. It humbled the Jewish, and even the Roman national pride: the moribund Lc\'itical worship and idolatry, however fanatically defended, were wounded to death. Nothing can be more certain than that Jesus had never studied under the Sopherim, or Scribes. His contempo- raries, the Rabbis of Jerusalem, leave no doubt of this, for they frankly avowed their wonder at His knoAvledge of their theology, and power of Scriptural exposition, though He had never learned theological science in their schools.''* The same minute acquaintance with the opinions and teachings of the day is seen through the whole of the Hill Sermon. Apart from His mysterious di^^nity, He was a man like our- selves, " growing in wisdom" with His years, and, therefore, indebted in a measure, at least, to the influences and means around Him, for His human knowledge and opinions. It speaks volumes for His early training by His mother and Joseph, that he should have kno-ttii the Scriptures as He did, for it is in childhood that the memory gets the bent which marks its strength in manhood. The sjTiagogue Schenkel, Gome in lie, Bibel Lex. ii. 376. ' Geist de3 Christon- thuais, 95. JEWISH EELIGIOUS TRAINING. 55 school, and constantly recurring services, must, however, chap. x3 have been the great seminary of the wondrous Boy. Pas- sages of the Law had been His only school-book, and, doubtless, the village teacher, steeped in reflected Rabbinism, had often flattered his harmless vanity by a display before his young charge, of his knowledge of the traditions and glosses, which won so much honour to the Scribes. The Sabbath and week-day homilies of the Synagogue had made Him a constant listener to local or travelling Rabbis, till, in the thirty years of His Nazareth life, His mind and memory had, doubtless, been saturated with their modes of thought, and the opinions of all the different schools. Theology, moreover, was the staple of village conversation in Nazareth, as elsewhere, for his religion was also the politics of the Jew, and the justification of his haughty national pride. Doubt- less, also, in Joseph's cottage there was a manuscript of the Law, and a soul filled with devotion to His Heavenly Father, like that of Jesus, would find some of the Prophets, either there or among His family friends. Rabbis from Jerusalem, or resident in Galilee, must often have come in His way, dui'ing the thirty private years, and how much would such a mind and heart learn of their " wisdom," even in such casual intercourse ? His clearness of intellect, His transparent innocence of soul. His freedom of spirit, and transcendent loftiness of morals were all His own, but they must have used, for their high ends, the facilities around Him. The very neighbourhood of a heathen population may have had its influence in breaking down the hereditary narrowness of His race, and who can tell what ardours may have been kindled by the wondrous view from the hill-top of Nazareth ? Free from all thought of Himself : filled with a divine enthusiasm for His Father above and for humanity, these mountains, that azure sky, the sweeping table-land beyond the Jordan, the wide glory of heaven and earth, veiling, above, the eternal kingdoms, and, at His feet, revealing the enchanting homes of wide populations diff"ering in blood and in faith, but all alike His brethren, may have coloured not a few of the sacred utterances of the Sermon on the Mount. 56 THE LITE OF CHRIST. CHAP. XSX7. This unique example of our Saviour's teaching displays in one view nearly all the characteristics presented by the more detached illustrations preserved in the Gospels. Never sj^stematic, the discourses of Jesus were rather pointed utterances of special truths demanded by the occasion. In perfect inner harmony with each other, these sententious teachings at times appear to conflict, for they are often designed to present opposite sides of the same truth, as the » John 5. 81; distinct point to be met required.^" The external and sen- Luke9.60; suous in all His teachings, however, was always made the 13*62. ■ '' vehicle of an inner and heavenly lesson. He necessarily fol- lowed the mode to which His hearers were used, and taught them as their own Rabbis were wont, that He might engage attention. At times He puts direct questions ; at others He is rhetorical or polemic, or speaks in proverbs, or in more lengthened discourse. He often uses parables, and some- 51 John 13. 4. times even symbolical actions ; '^ is always spontaneous and M Matt. 4. 19; ready^"^; and even, at times, jJoints His words by friendly Luke 8. 21; or cutting irony. ^^ But while thus in many ways adopting » Lake 7. 47. the style of the Rabbis, His teaching was very different Luke 13. 33. even in outward characteristics. They delivered, painfully, what they had learned like children, overlajdng every ad- dress with citations, in their fear of saying a word of their own ; but the teaching of Christ was the free expression of His own thoughts and feelings, and this, with the weight of the teaching itself, gave Him power over the hearts of His « Matt. 7. 28. audience.^* With a minute and exact knowledo^e of the Mark 1.22. O teaching of the schools. He shows, by repeated use of Rab- binical proofs and arguments, that He was familiar, also, with the current modes of controversy. His fervour. His originality, and the grandeur of the truths He proclaimed, were enough in themselves to commend His words, but He constantly supports them by the supreme authority of the Scriptures, which were familiar to Him as His mother- speech. Simple, as a rule, in all He says, He yet often opens glimpses into the infinite heights, where no human thought can follow Him. The spirit of His preaching is as transcendent as its matter. Tenderness and yearning love prevail, but there is not wanting, when needed, the stern- Jubn 7. 4(i. KINGLY DIGNITY OF JESUS. 57 ness of the righteous judge. Thi'oughout the whole of His chap, sxxv ministry, and notably, in the Sermon on the Mount, He bears Himself with a kingly grandeur, dispensing the rewards and punishments of the world to come ; opening the king- dom of heaven to those onlj^ who fulfil His requirements, and resting the future prospects of men on the reception they give His words. Even to read His utterances forces from all the confession of those who heai'd Him, that " Never man spake hke this." 58 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT (Continued). CHAP, xsxvi. rpHE opening verses of the Sermon on the Mount mark the J- Qontrast between the New Kingdom of God and the Old. There is no mention of fonns, for the whole life of Jesus ' Bibei Lex. li. was- onc unbrokcu service of God.^ The Temple Sei'vice, and the burdensome laws of sacrifices, are passed over, for the Sermon Avas dcUvered in Galilee, far from the sjilendour of the one, or the vexatious minuteness and materialism of the other. The great question of clean and unclean, which divided the nation within itself; made life a slavery to rules; and isolated the Jew from all brotherhood with humanity at large, is left to sink into indifference before tlie gi'and spiritual truths enunciated. The LaAV came Avith threats, prohibitions, and commands; the " Sermon" opens with bene- dictions, and moves in an atmosphere of promises and 2 Lnther.qnotej enticemcnts.^ Its first sentences are a succession of lofty by Meyer. "^ Matt, in ;oc. congratulatious of those whose spirit and bearing already proclaim them fit for the new society. The virtues thus praised are not the active only, but the passive ; not those of doing alone, but of bearing. " Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven ; blessed the meek, for they will inherit the earth ; blessed they that mourn, for they wiU be comforted ; blessed they that hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they will be satisfied ; blessed the merciful, for they Avill find mercy ; blessed the peace-makers, for they wiU be called sons of God'; blessed they that have been persecuted for right- eousness sake, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven. Blessed are ye, when they shall reproach and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for My THE BEATITUDES. 59 sake. Rejoice and exult, for your reward is great in Heaven ; chap, xssvi. for so did they persecute the prophets that were before Matt. 5. 3—12. I give the version of y^^^" I give the The mission of Christ was said by Himself, in a quotation S^Sdorf. from Isaiah, to be to preach to tlie poor, and hence it is with no surprise that we find St. Luke substitute simply "the poor " for the "poor in spirit," for both, are right. The first disciples were won almost exclusively from among the lowly. " The contented poor," Jesus would here say, " who bear their burden meekly, since it comes from God, those — that is, who are 'poor in spirit,' — have, in their very meekness, the sign and proof that, though poor in outward things, they are rich in higher, for they will, so much the more surely, be, hereafter, the opposite of what they are here. They are the poor who have nothing and yet have aU. They have nothing of this world's possessions, and have not yet received the blessing in the world to come. But the very longing for the future, and hope of it, are virtually a present pos- session. Their devout poverty is their wealth, for it secures treasures hereafter.* The 'Kingdom of Heaven' is theirs » Bams 1 1 » mi . • • 1 1 1 Ti 1 1 • 1 Ge3ohiohte, 2; au'eady. Ihis principle runs through all the beatitudes. As Christ's disciples, the future will be the contrast to the present ; riches for poverty ; joy for mourning ; plenty for hunger; a heavenly cro^vn for earthly suffering for the ]\Iaster's sake. The contrast of sin and pardon ; the lowly sense of needed salvation, which ah-eady has in itself the assurance that salvation is granted, are implied in all the states of heart recounted. Through all, there runs the deepest sense of the sinfubiess and troubles of the present, and springing from this, the loftiest religious aspirations, rising far above the earth, to eternal reahties. They thus disclose the inmost and central principle of the new King- dom ; the -RT-Uing and even joyful surrender of the present, in lowly hope of the future — and that from no lower motive than loving obedience and fidelity to Christ. Immediate self-interest is to be disregarded, for the infinitely higher prospects of the future world. The one passion of the heart is to be for greater righteousness, — that is, for an ever more complete self-surrender to the will of God, and active 60 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP, xssvi. fulfilment of its demands. For Himself Jesus claims the most loyal devotion, even to the endurance of " all manner of evil," for His sake. To seek happiness is to fail to obtain it, but self-surrender to God, and faith in Christ as the Messiah, in themselves bring it, when disinterested and sincere. It is striking to note the anticipations of suffering associ- s See uiimann's atcd bv Jcsus "u'ith truc disciplcship.^ Sufferintj is assumed SUndlosigkeit, ... . "'■'• as its inevitable result. He holds out no attractions to insincerity or worldliness, but at the very outset, fans the chaff from the wheat, and repels all but the earnest and devoted. Four benedictions are bestowed on the passive virtues ; four on the active. To bear poverty with lowly resignation to God ; to mourn, and yet trust that all is for the best ; to reproduce the meekness which Jesus Himself displayed, and to endure trials and persecutions loyally for His sake, are the negative graces demanded as conditions of member- ship of the New Kingdom. But active virtues are no less required ; the hungering and thirsting after righteousness, which finds its food in fresh, joj-ful, continuous acts of good- ness ; the mercy which delights to bless the wretched; the purity of heart, which strives to realize in the soul the image of God, and the gentleness which spreads peace around it.*" The key-note of all the utterances of Christ reveals itself in these few sentences. His kingdom is at once present and future : present by the undoubting faith in His assurances that it would hereafter assuredly be attained : future in the fact that the realization of its joys was reserved for the life to come. Unlike John, He proclaims that the time of expectation is over : that the New Kingdom has already come as a living power in the soul, diffusing its blessings, at once within and around its members. It is established in its rights and duties, to develop and advance, henceforth, till its glory cover the earth. In one aspect, it is incomplete till its full realization in the distant future : in another it is ab-eady perfect, for it reigns in every single soul -which has humbly accepted Jesus as its King. After this introduction. He proceeds to enforce on His disciples the duties of their new relation to Him, and to THE LAW OF THE KINGDOM:. 61 clieer tlicm, by recalling the dignity it confers. " You have, chap, sxsvi. indeed, good cause to rejoice," says He, " and to be brave of heart, for you are the salt of the earth ; the light of the world ; a city set on a hill." Mere ostentation, or insincere parade of virtue, were abhorrent to Him, and formed His great charge against the acted religion of the day. But the enthusiasm of true goodness, He tells them, must of necessity be seen and felt. Life is shown by its energy ; where there is no active vital power, there is only death. He presciibes no lengthened code of duties, but trusts to the ardour and devotion of loyalty to Himself, as a perfect equivalent. Drawn to Him by grateful and lowly affection. He leaves it to the love of His followers to exceed all precise directions, and outstrip all formal requirements. His kingdom is as strictly under law as any other, but, for the endless statutes of earthly monarchies, and the equally unnumbered prescriptions of the old theocracy, He substitutes a single all-sufficing law — the law of love, which makes each member of His kingdom a law to himself All are to give themselves up to Him as unreservedly as He has given Himself up for them. Intense sincerity is thus made the fundamental demand, and His own pei"sonal example their standard and pattern. To be the light of the world, they must needs look to Him, for He had especially applied that name to Himself.® They « John a. 12. had the immense advantage of example, so much more effective than precept. The New Kingdom was only the reflection of His oyvn character, and, thus. His commands Avere best carried out by imitating His life : for He, Himself, was the one perfect illustration of complete fulfilment of its laws. No gi'udging or partial devotion Avould suffice. They must heartily conform their inmost being to His image,'' and shed round them, in their respective spheres, the ' numaim, 223. spiritual blessings which beamed brightest from Himself. Thus calmly, and as His natural right and place. He consti- tutes Himself the grand ideal of humanity, and men feel that there is no rashness or incongruity in His assumption of the stupendous dignity. Failure, however, is human, and hence a few solemn 62 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. oHAP^xsvi. words of warning are added. " Salt keeps and makes sound what would else corrupt. But impure salt may lose its salt- ness, and once lost it cannot be restored. What was before of blessed use, is, henceforth, worthless, and may be cast out upon the road to be trodden under foot. If you, the salt of the earth," lose your spiritual worth, by faint-hoartedness, or sloth, or dark unfaithfulness, your needed energy and efficiency are irreparably gone. Who will take your place ? You will be no longer fit for the work I have assigned you. If the salt be pure, it will not lose its power ; it is the earth and impurities mixed with it, that make it worthless ; and so you must put away all that might make you go back, if you would be true disciples. Your lasting Avorth depends 'seeLnbe ou your dcvotion to me being unqualified and absolute.^ Matt. s. 13-16. You are to enlighten men as the sun enlightens the world. I am the light of the world : you shine by my light : see that, in turn, you illumine the darkness round you. A light is to shine, not to be hidden. Like a lamp on its stand, it is your office to shed light, and drive off darkness. The beams of your good works must shine before men, that they may honour God, your Father, in Heaven. Like a city set on a hill, you are to draAv on you all eyes." Passing from general principles to specific details, Jesus now proceeded to show the relations of His new kingdom to ' Matt. 5. 17-48. thc old theocracy.^ The charge of hostility to the Law had been brought against Him, and would be urged against "Acts 6. 11. His disciples.^'^ He would show them that the new roots itself in the old, and is its completion and glory, not its destruction. " Think not," said He, "that I came to sujjersede your ancient Scriptures — the Law and the Prophets. I came not to destroy, but to fulfil. Worthless forms, worn out with age, may perish and must, but not the least jot or tittle of the sacred truths they for a time have clothed, shall pass, while heaven or earth endure. The forms are not the Law. Rites and ceremonies are only helps, for simple ages, which need material symbols. The kingdom of God has now outgroAvn them. The truth must henceforth stand alone, appealing to the spirit without such outward aids. Local and national, THE LAW EXALTED. 63 they have served their clay, but the new kingdom of God, chap^xxxvi which is for all times and races, knows only a worship in spirit and in truth. So far am I from slighting or destroy- ing the truth hidden under these outward forms, that he who breaks one of the least spiritual demands of the Law, and teaches men to copy him in doing so, shall be called least in my kingdom : while he who obeys and ' teaches them as a whole, shall be called great in it. The Law is for ever sacred. I only strip it of its outward accidents, to reveal the better its divine glory. Spoken by God, it is eternal. I come to do it honour ; to confirm, but also to clear it from human additions and corruptions." Jesus, in thus speaking, had a very diflPerent conception of the Law from that of the Rabbis. To Him it meant the sacred moral commands given from Sinai. The whole apparatus of ceremony and rite at first connected with them, were only rude external accommodations to the childhood of religion, to aid the simple and gross ideas of early ages. Looking beneath the sjonbol to the essential truth, it was a lofty, religious, "moral, and social legislation, far deeper, wiser, hoher, and more complete than the highest human system. He knew how the prophets had dra-wn from it the pure and exalted conceptions they had enforced, anticipating in their spirituaUty His o^vn teaching. But centuries lay between Him and the prophets, and Judaism had sunk to a painful idolatry of the letter and outward form of the Law, to the neglect of its spirit and substance. The Exile had weakened and perverted the national conscience, and a burning zeal for rigid external observance of the letter had followed the just beUef that their national troubles had been a punishment for previous shortcomings. The Pharisees, who gave the tone to the people, filled up their life "with a weary round of offerings, ceremonies, and pm'ifications ; and, not content with the prescriptions of Moses, had added a tedious system of meritorious works; fasts, washings, alms, and prayers. The Essenes, and stiU more John, had turned back to the purer air of the prophets, from this barren, mechanical j)iety, and had taught that righteousness, love, and human sympathy, were the highest 64 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP. XXX TL ' Keim's Christus, 87. Schleier- macher's Predigwn, iv 808, 704. Heynolda' John the Boptiat, 499. " Matt. 23. 24. " Matt. 23. 13.21 Quotation from Baba ilezia, in Coheu, 153. requirements of the Law. But the veil was still on their eyes; their reforms were partial. The Essenes had even more washings than the Pharisees ; they eschewed marriage, property, and the world, and the Baptist fasted, and required Pharisaic forms.^^ Jesus pierced to the heart of the truth. Stripping oiF all obsolete ■\\Tappings of rite and symbol, and repudiating all human additions, He proclaimed the Law in its divine ideal, as binding for ever, in its least part,'' on all ages. His supreme loyalty to the Law could not fail, in a spirit so divinely sincere, to involve a condemnation of its cor- ruption by the religious teachers of the day. It followed presently: "Except your righteousness exceed that of the Scribes and Pharisees," He continued, "ye wiU not enter into the kingdom of heaven." He charges them, not only ^xiih. themselves breaking the commandments, by their casuistry and their immoral additions, but with leading men at large in the same evil path. The fundamental principle of the Pharisaic conception of righteousness which Jesus thus strenuously opposed, was their idea that strict observance of the traditions and commands of their schools, in itself satisfied the requirements of God. Fulfilment of what was •written in the Law and its Rabbinical expositions, was, in their opinion, only a question of punctilious outward observance. They weakened the conception of moral evil by subtle discriminations of casuistry.'-' In trifles the most exact minuteness was required, but in greater matters the principles of morality were boldly undermined or surrendered. The tithing of mint, dill, and cummin — mere garden herbs — was vital, but grave questions of right and wrong were treated with indifference. This moral prudery and pedantry, which strained the wine before drinking it, lest a fly might have fallen into it and made it unclean, but made no trouble of swaUoAving a camel,'^ was the hypocritical righteousness against which Jesus directed His bitterest words.'* With all their lip veneration for it, they set little value on the study of the Law itself, but much on that of the commentaries of the Rabbis, now embodied in the Mischna and Gemara.'^ The PHARISAIC SCRUPULOSITY. 65 Rabbinical tradition so amplified and t^nsted the words of chap, xssvi. the Law, as to make it express, in many cases, the opposite of its natural meanino-.i^ Relirion had become almost '« see instances , . , . . , in Cohen, 183. wholly a mechanical service, without reference to the heart. As in other theocratic communities, a man might be emi- nently religious, in the Pharisaic sense, and yet utterly depraved and immoral. The teaching of the prophets,® which demanded internal godliness, was slighted, and the study of their writings almost entirely put aside for that of the legal traditions and of the Law.^ The desire to define, to the smallest detail, what the Law required, had led, in the course of ages, to a mass of conflicting Rabbinical opinions, which darkened rather than explained each command. The "hedge" round the Law had proved a hedge of thorns, for Rabbis and people alike.^'^ The question was, not what was w Pressei, 1 1 1 T 1 T I 1 Eabbinismns. right or An'ong, but what the Law, as expounded by the Herzog, dl Rabbis, demanded, and zeal was stimulated by the mercenary expectation of an equivalent reward,^* for scrupulous exact- is schorer, tss. ness in fulfilment. A better illustration of the moral worthlessness of the Pharisaic ideas of righteousness could hardly, perhaps, be found, than in the fact that, mth all their ostentatious reve- rence for the Scriptures, he who touched a copy of them was, thereby, made unclean. " According to you," said the Sadducees of their rivals, " the Scriptures defile the hands, while Homer does not." The skins on Avhich the sacred books were written might have been those of an unclean beast, or, at least, they were part of a dead body. But the Pharisees had their retort ready. " Why," asked they, "are the bones of an ass clean and those of the high priest, John Hyrcanus, unclean? " "It is the kind of bone that determines the uncleanness," answered the Sadducees, " else we would make spoons of the bones of our relatives!" "Just so," retorted the Pharisees, "it is the value we attach to the Scriptures which has made us decide that they defile the hands, while Homer does not." ^^ They worshipped the « Derenbom-g, letter, but misconceived the essence of Scrij^ture : treated ui', nit wl? morality as a trifle, and trifles as the only religion. In their early days, fired by a true zeal for God ; they had degenerated, VOL. II. 44 66 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. OHAP. XXXVI. as a body, into mere "actors." "There were plenty of Pharisees," says even Jost, himself a Jew, " who used the appearance of piety as a cloak for shameful ends." Nor did this escape the people, especially as these hypocrites sought to attract attention by exaggerated displays, and contemp- tuous bynames were presently given them. The name of Pharisee came to be like that of Jesuit in the mouth of friends or opponents. Even Philo does not mention it, and it soon died out of the mouth of the people, and sui'vived •0 joat, 1.205. only as a term of the schools.'^" With a system so utterly hollow, and yet so deeply rooted in popular favour, Jesus could hold no terms. With the better side of Pharisaism He had much in common, but, as it showed itself, in its growing corruption, He could only condemn it. Zealots for words and forms ; lofty in abstract views ; the mouthpiece of the nation at large, in its religious and political aspirations, there must have been little real soundness in a body at large, of which a spirit so gentle as that of Christ could speak as whited sepulchres and a genera- tion of vipers. To illustrate His meaning, Jesus proceeds to give examples of Pharisaic abuse of the Law, holding up what is implied in its due observance, that he may show how it was broken by its professed zealous defenders. The sublime morality of the New Kingdom, with its lofty spiritualization of the Law, is, He implies, the true conservatism — it is His opponents who ai'e undermining it. The Mosaic prohibition of murder had been limited by the Rabbis to litei-al homicide, and they had added to the brief •words of the Law, that the criminal was in danger of the judgment of God, in some cases, and of the Sanhedrim in others. But this did not satisfy the high spirituahty of the New Kingdom. It included in the brief utterance of God, through Moses, a condemnation even of angry words or thoughts. " I say unto you, that every one who is angr)' vdth his brother will be liable to the judgment of God ; and whosoever shall express contempt for his brother, will be liable to the Sanhedrim ;S and whosoever shall say. Thou worthless one, will be liable to hell fire. I go beyond the THE JEWISH LAW OF DIVORCE. 67 Scribes, for I declare, as the fulfiUer of the Law, that un- chap^sxvl righteous anger is worthy of the full punishment they attach to its overt result in homicide ; nay, more, I declare the ex- pression of such anger in bitter words as incun-ing the danwr of hell. Not to love one's 'brother'-^ is, with me, the 2' uohns.is. O _ ' ' Matt. 5. essence of the crime condemned by the Law : the lesser 2"-2^- expressions of anger I denounce as worthy of divine, though temj)oral punishment ; in the worst cases, as worthy of punishment in the world to come." Anger with a brother entails the anger and judgment of God : public reproach merits a public penalty, but he who would consign another to hell is himself in danger of being sent to it.'^ He does not suppose His disciples could possibly commit the crime of murder, or even break into open \nolence, but He ranks under an equal guUt the passions Avhich lead to them in others. He charges the murder, not against the hand that strikes, but the heart that hates.' This was startling enough, but the application made of it must have sounded no less so. " Only the pui'e in heart can see God, and hence it is vain for you to seek His presence by an offering, if you have in any way thus offended. If you have, and in the solemn moment of appearing before God remember it, — evil though men think it to break off or interrupt a sacrifice, — leave your offering before the altar ; seek him Avhom you have WTonged, and be reconciled to him, and, then, come and offer your gift.'^ You have wTonged God, not man only. Beware lest, if you do not make peace with Him, by instant atonement to your brother. He act to you as a creditor does with a debtor he meets in the street — whom he delivers up to the judge, and whom the judge hands over to the ofiicer to cast into prison. I tell you, if God thus let His anger kindle upon you, you will not come out till you have paid the last fai'thino; ! " -'^ « Hor. Heb. ii. •/ >- o _ 117. Buxtort The Pharisaic doctrine of marriage offences and divorce f'j^^J'"'- was next unsparingly condemned, as an inadequate expres- sion of the spirit of the Law. It restricted adultery to the crime itself, and it sanctioned divorce at the mere whim of the husband. Doubtless individual Rabbis represented healthier views than others, but they did not affect the prevailing 68 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. OHAP. xsxvL tone. As ynt\\ homicide, so, in adultery, the morality of the New Kingdom traced the crime home to the heart, and condemned the unclean glance as a virtual commission of the crime itself. The thoughts were nothing, in the loose morality of the day, but Jesus arraigns the secret lusts of the breast, Avith an earnestness unknown to the Rabbis. Unconditional self-mortification is to be carried out, when guilty thoughts imperil the soul. " If your right ej'e," saj-s He, "or your right hand, your sight or your touch, lead you into temptation, it is better for you to jjluck out the one, and cut off the other, rather than be led astray, and not only lose a share in my kingdom, but be cast into hell hereafter."' Not that He meant this in a hard and literal sense. The sin is with Him, in the heart, but the senses are its instruments, and no guard can be too strict, no self-restraint too great, if they endanger spiritual purity. The Pharisaic laws of divorce were shamefully loose. " If any one," said the Rabbis, " see a woman handsomer than his wife, he may dismiss his wife and marry that woman," and they had the audacity to justify this by a text of Scrip- ture." Even the strict Schammai held that if a wife went out without being shrouded in the veil which Eastern women still wear, she might be divorced, and hence many Rabbis locked up their ■\\'ives when they went out ! While some held that divorce should be laA\-ful only for adultery, others, like Josephus, claimed the right to send away their wives if they » Vita, 78. were not pleased -nith their behaviour. ^^ The school of Hillel even maintained that, if a wife cooked her husband's food badly, by over-salting or over-roasting it, he might put her away, and he might also do so if she were stricken by « Hor.Heb.ii. any grievous bodily affliction!-* The facility of divorce Keim,il'253. amoug the Jews, had, indeed, become so great a scandal, even among their heathen neighbours, that the Rabbis were fain to boast of it as a privilege granted to Israel, but not to other nations ! The woman divorced was at once free to marry, her letter of dismissal, signed by witnesses, expressly granting her the liberty to do so. Rising high above aU this festering hypocrisy, the law of THE LAW OP OATHS. 69 the New Kingdom sounded out, clear and decisive. " It ch^^p. sssvl has been said by Moses, "-^ continued Jesus, "Whosoever shall » Dent.24.1. '' ' _ ' _ Matt. 6. 31, 32. put away his wife, let him give her a bill of divorce. But I say unto you, that whosoever shall put away his wife, except for fornication, causes her to be the occasion of adultery ^^ if she marry again, for she is still a wife ; and » Tischendorra "^ J a J _ corrected text. whosoever marries her, when put away, thus commits adultery." The use of oaths was no less prevalent in Christ's day than it still is in the East, and the Rabbis had sanctioned the practice by laying down minute rules for its regulation. The law of Moses had absolutely forbidden perjury,-" but =' Lev. m 12. the casuistry of the Rabbis had so darkened the whole subject of oaths, that they had, in effect, become utterly worthless. They were formally classed under different heads, in Rabbinical jurisprudence, and endless refinements opened facilities for any one to break them who wished. Their number was endless ; men swore by heaven, by the earth, by the sun, by the prophets, by the Temple, by Jeru- salem, by the altar, by the wood used for it, by the sacrifices, by the Temple vessels, by their own heads. ^^ « Emmpiesin By joining a second text, from a different part, to the ^li^-\^ ,5. prohibition of perjury, the Scribes had, in effect, opened the wetstein, 305, door to every abuse. To the prohibition of Moses, " Thou shalt not swear Msely,"-^ they had added the charge, " but» Lev. 19. 12. shalt perform unto the Lord thine oaths,"^° and from this it 30 Dent. 23. 21. was argued that no oath was binding, either on one's-self or towards others, which had no vow of sacrifice as a part of it, or if the vow had been punctually fulfilled.^^ Any oath, 31 schott, -x. T „ T '' , . . ,» Matt. 23. 16 f. any deception towards God or man, and even perjury itsell, was thus sanctioned, if it Avere only consecrated and purified by an offering. The garrulous, exaggerating, crafty Jew needed to be checked, rather than helped in his untruthful- ness, but the guardians of the purity of the Law had invented endless oaths, with minute discriminations, and verbal shades and catches, which did not expressly name God, or the Temple, or the altar, and these the people might use, with- out scruple , mock oaths, harmless to themselves and of no binding force ! 70 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP.xxxvL Against such equivocation and consecrated hypocrisy Jesus lifted His voice. " I say unto you, swear not at all ; neither by heaven, for it is God's throne ; neither by the earth, for it is His footstool ; nor by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the Great King. You would tremble to swear by God, but when you swear by anything connected with His works or His worship, you swear, in reality, by Himself. Nor shall you swear by your head, for you cannot make a hair of it white or black ; and, thus, your oaths by it are idle words. But let your speech be simply yes and no, for what exceeds these is from the ' evil one.' As my disciples, your word is enough : you -snll speak only as ever in the presence of God."° The theory of life under the New Kingdom, as we have seen, was the very opposite of that held by the schools of the day. Prosperity, with them, was an unbroken enjoy- ment of life to extreme old age, abundance of worldly comforts, and continuous success in all undertakings, and triumphant victory over all enemies. AU this was expected as the just reward of a strict obedience to Rabbinical pre- scriptions, which constituted the " righteousness of the Law." Jesus held forth the veiy opposite of all this as the blessed- ness to be sought in the New Kingdom. Poverty, sorrow, and persecution, were to be the natural lot of His followers, but their transcendent reward, hereafter, and the love which inspired such devotion, transfigured them to gain and honour, and demanded the highest joy. To make the contrast more vivid between the Old Kingdom and the New, he had added " woes " in connection with all that the former had praised as specially blessed. The rich, who have their reward in their earthly possessions ; the prosperous, who cared for nothing except this world, would suffer hunger hereafter ; those who cared only for present joy, would one day mourn and weep; those whom men praised, would find the praise only deceiving flattery. Patience, humility, gentleness, resignation, and love, were to characterize the New Israel ; the virtues and rewards of the sold ; the piety of form and rewards in this world, were discountenanced. The New lungdom Avas to win hearts by spiritual attractions, till now little valued. THE LAW OF REVENGE. 71 As a practical application of the ideal, thus sketched, ohap^xxxvi. He required His followers to repudiate the Old Testament doctrine of retaliation, with the endless refinements of the Rabbis, and to adopt, in its place, the principle of over- coming evil with good. Antiquity, both Jewish and hea- then, cherished the idea of revenge for injuries. To requite like with like was assumed as both just and righteous. Even Socrates had no higher idea of virtue than to surpass friends in showing kindness, and enemies in inflicting hurt. ^^ « xen.Mem.ii. Plato,^^ indeed, held that revenge was wrong, and that no 33 cnaaa, 469. ' ' ° , . 1 Gorgias, 469. one should do evil on any ground ; that it was worse to do D^^Eepub-i -\vrong than to suffer it, and that the virtuous man would not injure any one, because to do so injured himself But Plato had only in his mind, in these noble sentiments, the rela- tions of Greek citizens to each other, to the exclusion of slaves, and of all the world but his oato race; and the motive for his magnanimity was not love for the individual man, or for ideal humanity, but only political justice and right. Roman stoicism rose higher, but its injunctions of kindness to enemies were rather the expression of self-approving virtue than of loving moral conviction. Among the Jews, retalia- tion had the sanction of ]\Ioses. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe, are required by him.^'' " 3* exoa. 21. a The stern Sadducee party clung to the letter of the Law, but the milder Phai-isees had invented a scale of money payments instead. As in our own middle ages, a tarifi" of fines was constructed for each personal injury ; for tearing the hair, for a cutf on the ear, a blow on the back, spitting on the person, taking away an under garment, uncovering a woman's head, and the like.^" The value of a hand, or foot, ^ EoDenson-s or an eye, was computed by the depreciation it would have "■■23!; Anthorities in thc emanation, the Son, of God.^ In an insincere ao^e, when Keim, ii. 58. ' ' ... fine words were used as mere rhetorical flourishes, springing > Benan, from no couAaction or earnestness, Seneca,^ a genei'ation 125. ° '^ later, was able to speak abnost like a Christian. " The gods," said he, " are full of pity and friendliness — do every- thing for our good, and for our benefit have created all kinds of blessings, with exhaustless bounty, and prepared cverj-thing for us beforehand. What they have they make over to us : that is how they use things ; and they are un- wearied, day and night, dispensing their benefits as the protectors of the human race. We are loved by them as children of their bosom, and, like loving parents, they smile at the faults of their children, and cease not to bestow kindness on kindness to us ; give us before we ask, and continue to do so, although we do not thank them, and even though we cry out defiantly, 'I shall take nothing from them ; let them keep what they have for themselves ! ' The sun rises over the unjust, and the seas spread out even for sea robbers. The gods ai'e easily appeased, never unfor- * Seneca a. ir. 2. giving; how unfortunatc were we if they were not so!"^ V.h'^?2s1- Thus also " The way of man, in which the god-like Avalks, Epis.73,95. goes upwards to the gods, who reach out the hand to us without pride or jealousy, to help us to rise. We need no temple, nor even to lift up our hands to heaven : God is NOBLE HEATHEN SAYINGS. 75 near thee ; the Holy Spirit, the Watcher over good or evil, ch. sxxvn. who evei', unweariedly, leads us to God."^ Words like ' seneo. Epu. these sound Christian, though we know that they were only artificial rhetoric, composed to turn aside the chai-ge of worshipping stocks and stones. Faith in the divinity often gives way, in Seneca, before haughty pride in humanity, and that pride, in turn, sinks before the dark future. The fancy played over the dark abyss with empty words of comfort, respecting the father-like gods and god-hke man, but even prosperity could hardly amuse itself with them, and the hour of trial repeated them with hollow laughter and self- murder.^ Yet they were there to use for the highest good, « Koim,ii.59. had men chosen. The religious education of the world had gradually, tlirough long ages, become ready for the teachings of Jesus." The Sermon on the Mount was spoken while every sign of the wrath of God with the nation lay like a burden on aU, and perplexed the masters in Israel. Yet it was then that Jesus revealed that God was the Father of men, and had loved them from the beginning of the world, appealing for proof even to the lilies of the field and the birds of the air.'' For the first time, men heard that the whole race ' Matt. e. 33. were the sons of the great heavenly Father ; that the world lay in the sunshine of His eternal love, and that all alike were invited to seek His face.'' It was the fii-st proclamation of a universal religion, and, as such, an event unique in the history of mankind. In the early ages of the world, war was perpetual. Even after men had long adopted city life and its civilization, a stranger and an enemy were synonymous. Thus, in the first ages of Rome, a stranger who had not put himself formally under the protection of some Roman, had no rights and no j^rotection. What the Roman citizen took from him was as lawful gaiji as the shell which no one owned, picked up on the sea-shore.® He was ' Mommson'n ' >■ J- Bom. Gesch like a wild beast, to be hunted and preyed on at any one's '•"^ will.^ To use Mommsen's figure, a tribe or people must be » Mommsen-s ° ' '■ '■ Hiim. Gesch either the anvil or the hammer. Ulysses was only the type of J- 1*'- the world at large in his day, when, in the early part of his wanderings, he landed in Thrace, and having found a city, 76 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. . L^xvn instantly sacked it and killed all the inhabitants. Where there was no express treaty, plunder and murder were always to be dreaded. The only safety of individuals or communities was their own capacity of self-defence. As tribes and clans expanded to nations, the blood connection secured peace, more or less, in the area they occupied, and, ultimately, the interests of commerce, or the impulse of self- preservation, joined even states of different nationalities in peaceful alliances. Isolated nations, like the Jews, still kept up the intense aversion to all but their owa race, but the progress of the world made them more and more exceptional. Before the age of Christ, the conquests of Rome had broken down the dividing walls of nationality over the civilized earth, and had united all races under a common government, which secured a M-idespread peace, hitherto unknown. ]\Ien of races living far apart found themselves free to compete for the highest honours of public life or of lettei's, and Rome accepted emperors and men of genius, alike, from the obscure populations of the provinces.'' But though conquest had forced the nations into an out- ward unity, there Avas no real fusion or brotherhood. Man, as man, had gained nothing. The barbarian and the slave were no less despised than before, and had gained no more rights. The Romans had been forced, for their oAArni sakes, to raise the conquered to more or less political equality with themselves, but they did so from no sentiment of respect to them as fellow-men, and still bore themselves towards them with the same haughty superiority and ill-concealed aversion. It was the peace of political and even moral death. All mankind had becoihe the slaves of the despot on the Tiber. Ancient virtues had passed away, and vice and corruption, unequalled, perhaps, in any age, lay like a deadly miasma over universal society. The union of the world was regi'etted, as supei'seding the times when Rome could indulge its tastes in war and plunder. It was a political comprehension, not a moral federation. The hostility of the past was impos- sible, but the world had only become a mob, not a brother- see a ano hood, of nations/" and had sunk in morality, as it had chapterin , ' , . , ,,. E«»Homo, advanced m outward alliance. REIGN OF HATRED. 77 With tlie Jews, the old hatred of all races but their own had ch. ssxvn. gro^\^l with the calamities of the nation. It seemed to them a duty to hate the heathen and the Samaritan, but their cynicism extended, besides, to all respecting whom the jealousy for the honour of the Law had raised suspicion. They hated the pubhcans ; the Rabbi hated the priest, the Pharisee the Sadducee, and both loathed and hated the common people, who did not know the ten thousand injunc- tions of the schools. They had forgotten what the Old Testament taught of the love of God towards men, and of the love due by man to his fellow. They rememlaered that they had been commanded to show no favour to the sunken nations of Canaan, but they forgot that they had not been told to hate them. The Law had said " Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself; " ^^ but their neighbour, they assumed, " Lev. wah. meant only a Jew or a j^roselyte, and they had added that they should "hate their enemies." " If a Jew see a Gentile fall into the sea," ^\Tote j\Iaimonides, still cherishing the old feeling centuries later, " let him by no means take him out ; for it is -wTitten, ' Thou shalt not rise up against the blood of thy nei";hbour,' but this is not thy neio-hbovir." ^^ The « ^--^ "Nsch- •' ° ' . . . . Bier," Herzogi spirit of revenge which prevailed, embittered even private Heb'^^t^ life among the Jews themselves. Each had his own enemies, whom he felt free to hate and to injure, and all, alike, hated whole classes oi their own nation, and the whole heathen races. Jesus was, now, by a simple utterance, to create a new religious era. " Ye have heard," said He, " that it was said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you. Love your enemies, and pray for them who persecute you ; that ye may become sons of your Father, who is in heaven ; for He makes His sun to rise on the evil and good, and sends rain on the righteous and un- righteous. For if ye love them that love you, what reward have ye? (in my kingdom). Do not even the (hated) publicans the same ? And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye that exceeds? Do not even the (heathen) Gentiles the same thing ? Be ye, therefore, perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect." 78 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. cH.xxxvn. It was a ne-^- era for man. Heatlienism had fine senti- ments, but they were supported by no high morahty, and no living hopes. The Old Testament often commended kindness " Exod.M.4,5. and mercy /^ but it also sanctioned revenge and triumph jiJ^b^L 29!^3o. ^'^^^ t^6 f^ll of ^^ enemy/* and, even in the most attractive ■♦ Ps"? 6^ M 7 P^sages, it seemed as if piety were expected to make the " Pa. 7. 6, 7. anger of God on one's adversaries the more certain. ^^ But Jesus throws do^\^l the dividing prejudices of nationality, and teaches universal love without distinction of race, merit, or rank. A man's neighbour, henceforth, was every one who needed help, even an enemy. All men, from the slave to the highest, were sons of one Father in heaven, and should feel and act towards each other, as brethren. No human standard of virtue would suifice : no imitation of the loftiest examples among men. Moral perfection had been recognized, alike by heathen and Jews, as found only in likeness to the divine, and that Jesus proclaims as, henceforth, the one ideal for all humanity. With a sublime enthusiasm and brotherly love for the race, He rises above His age, and announces a common Father of all mankind, and one grand spiritual ideal in resemblance to Him. With this grand truth of Christianity the relation of man to His maker was entirely changed. The love of a child to a father took the place of fear, as a motive to His sersice. A new spiritual kingdom of fiUal love and obedience was called into being, -wath filial yearnings after Him, and chUdlike devotion to His will — a kingdom in which the hum- ble, the meek, and the merciful found their heaven, and in which all who hungered and thirsted after righteousness felt that they could be satisfied. The pure in heart were, as such, its citizens ; the souls who love the things of peace were called its children, and those who bore persecution and sorrow for the sake of righteousness were to inherit it.*^ To be "perfect as the great Father in heaven is perfect," is to do God's will on earth as the angels do it alcove, and, hence, the new kingdom is thus spoken of elscAvhere. It was to be wholly spiritual, in contrast to the political dreams of the Pharisees. They had transformed the predictions of the prophets to a political programme, which should be THE FATHERHOOD OF GOD. 79 realized by war against Rome, and zealous agitation against ch. sxxvn. the Sadducean aristocracy. They thought of another Mac- cabajan Avar, to be followed by a revelation of the Messiah from heaven. The kingdom of Jesus, on the contrary, was not to rise like a State, so that men could say it was here, or there, because it was already in their midst.^'' It could w Luke 17. 20, not be otherwise. He had proclaimed that God was the great Father, and, as such, the loving, filial desire that they might be His children thrust aside the cold thought of reward, Avhich had hitherto ruled. He proclaimed that God loved them, not in return for their services, but from the love and tenderness of a Father's heart, which sent forth His sun over good and bad alike, and rejoiced more over a sinner's repentance than over the weary exactness in Rab- binical rules of fifty who thought themselves righteous. The fundamental principle of the Judaism of the day was undermined by the new doctrine. What need was there longer for offerings, for Temple ritual, for washings or fastings, or scrupulous tithings, when the great Father sought only the heart of His penitent child? The hope of the Rabbis that they could hold God to the fulfilment of what they thought His promises, if only the Mosaic ideal of the theocracy, in their sense, was restored, fell to the ground. The isolation of the Jews, and their glory as the chosen people of God, were things of the past. One part of the theocracy after the other was doomed to fall before this grand proclamation, for its foundations were sapped. The Fatherhood of God, which now falls hke an empty sound on the ear of the multitude, was, at its utterance, the creation jf a new world. ^"^ " Hausrath, I. 35G. Jesus had, now, set forth the characteristics of citizenship in His new kingdom, and the new law ; He passed, next, to the new life.^* A warning was needed to guard His " westcott, o cj Introauctior, followers, in their religious duties, from the abuses of the Rabbinical party. Almsgiving had been exalted by the Scribes to an act in itself meritorious before God. The words " alms," and " righteousness,"^ were, indeed, used interchangeably.^^ "For ■ one farthing given to the poor," said the Rabbis, " a man 3J8. 80 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CH. XXXVII. will receive heaven." The words, " I shall behold Thy face in righteousness," Avei'e rendered in the gloss " because of alms." "This mone)^," said others, "goes for alms, that my sons may live, and that I may obtain the world to come." " A man's table now expiates by alms, as the altar, heretofore, did by sacrifice." " He who gives alms will be kept from all evil." In an age when the religious spirit was dead, outward acts of religion were ostentatiously practised, at once to earn a reward from God, and to secure honour for holiness from men. Religion was acted for gain, either present or future. Against such hypocrisy Jesus warns His followers. "Take heed that ye do not your ■ Matt. 6. 1-15. righteousness s before men,'^" to be seen by them, otherwise you haxe no reward with your Father who is in heaven." They were to draw no attention to their charity, by having it proclaimed in the synagogue,"" or by ostentatiously giving it in the streets, to earn praise of men, but were to hide it as if they would not even let their left hand know what their right hand was doing. Sincerity only, gave charity value. The amount was not essential : the spirit was all. Insincerity had no reward but the empty honour from men, got by deceit; .sincerity was rewarded by their Father in Heaven, who saAv the secret deed.' Even prayer had become a formal mechanical act, pre- scribed by exact rules. The hours, the matter, the manner, were all laid do-svn. xV rigid Pharisee prayed many times a day, and too many took care to have the hours of prayer overtake them, decked in their broad phylacteries, at the street corners, that thoy might publicly show their devout- ness, — or went to the synagogue that the congregation might see it. Nor were they content with short prayers, but lengthened their devotions as if to make a merit of their seeschiirfi, duration.'-'^ Instead of this, the members of the new king- friifii".'"' dom were to retire to strict secrecy when they prayed, and ^"' ' ' ' address their Father who sees in secret, and would reward them hereafter, in the future world, for their sincerity. Nor were they to use the foolish repetitions in vogue with the heathen, who thought they would be heard for their much speaking. The great Father knows what Ave need before THE lord's prayer. 81 we ask Him, and requires no lengthened petitions.* Prayer ct. xxxyii. in the congi-egation is not forbidden, for Jesus Himself frequented the synagogue, and joined in public devotions. But private prayer must be private, to guard against human weakness corrupting it into worthless parade. The simplest, shortest prayer, unheard by human ear, is accepted of God, if it rise from the heart : if the heart be wanting, all prayer is mere form. It is always much easier, however, to follow a pattern than a precept, and, hence, Jesus proceeded to set before them a model prayer. " After this manner, therefore, pray ye. Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, as in heaven, so also on earth. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts (to Thee), as we, also, have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one."^^ He added that our being forgiven our « xheDoxoiogy „..,. does not trespasses by God depended on our forgiving men theirs J^J't'^r^^'^Jof'' „„_• ^,-,j. ,-,-, the fourth against us. century. It is It was the custom of every Rabbi to teach his disciples a ne'log, lS form of prayer, ^^ and in "The Lord's Prayer," Jesus, as=3 sepp,ii.32G. John already had done, followed the example. But what a difference between His model and that of other teachers ! He had created a new heaven, and a new earth, for the soul, and in this prayer the mighty revelation of the Father- hood of God shines, like a sun, over all humanity. The highest conceivable ideal of perfection and fehcity for the race, is offered in the "will of the Eternal Father being done on earth as it is in heaven. Childlike trust and dependence ask, and are contented with, daily bounty from that Father's hand. His mercy is pleaded by hearts that already have learned to show it to others. The spirit stands before Him clothed in humility, and fuU of love and tenderness towards its fellows. Conscious weakness stretches out its hand for heavenly help, distrusting itself, but strong in a Higher. Each clause, almost each word, is fuU of the deepest signifi- cance. Each is filled with divine light.^ After eighteen centuries, Christendom knows no expression of thoughts and feehngs so fuU in so small a compass, so rich, so majestic in VOL. II. i5 82 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CH. xxxvn. praise and petition. Hallowed phrases, current in His day, may be quoted as parallels of single jjarts, but He alone united them to woi'ds of His OAvn with a breadth and solidity, a childlike simplicity and wisdom, a strength and lowliness wholly unkno^Ti in Jewish hterature." Fasting had become one of the prominent religious usages of Our Sa\aour's day. Though only one fast had been appointed by !Moses — that of the Day of Atonement — the Pharisees had added numerous others, especially on the two days of the week, Monday and Thursday, on which syna- gogue worship was held. When fasting, they strewed their heads Avith ashes, and neither washed nor anointed them- X Lightfoot,iL selves^* nor trimmed their beards, but put on T\Tetched clothing, and showed themselves in all the outward signs of mourning and sadness used for the dead." Insincerity made capital of feigned humiliation and contrition, till even the Roman theatre noticed it. In one of the plays of the time, a camel, covered vrith a mourning cloth, was led on the stage. " Why is the camel in mourning ?" asked one of the players. " Because the Jews are keeping the Sabbath year, and grow nothing, but are hving on thistles. The camel is » s*pp,u.34i. mourning because its food is thus taken from it."-^ Rabbis s« Gfrsrer,nc5. wcrc forbiddcu to anoint themselves before going out,^* and it was recorded of a specially famous doctor, that his face '■ Lightfoot, u. was always black Anth fasting.-" All pretence was abhorrent 272- gSchiircr, to the soul of Jcsus, cspecially in religion. "When ye fast," ' Matt6.i6-i8. gjjj(j jjg^ u ]jg j^Q|. jjg ^j^g hypocrites, of a sad countenance ; for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily I say unto you. They have their reward. But do thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head and wash thy face ; that thou mayest not appear unto men to fast, but to thy Father who is in secret, and thy Father, who sees in secret, will reward thee." To seek effect, applause, credit, or gain, by a show of godliness, must be shunned by members of the New Kingdom. It would be better to let men think evil of them, than to be tempted to use religion for ulterior ends. True pain and true sorrow hide from the eye of strangers ; they withdraw to the secrecy of the breast. TRUST IN PROVIDENCE. 83 He had already spoken of the need of care in the right ch. xx^vii. use of the blessings of Hfe, but He knew our proneness to forget, and returns to the subject once more. " Heap not up for yourselves," said He, "treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume, and where thieves break through and steal. But treasure up for yourselves treasures in heaven," where neither moth nor rust consumes, and where thieves do not break through nor steal. For, if your treasure is on earth, your heart must needs be careless of heaven. But if it be in heaven, your hearts will be there also. To have it there, you must have the inner light in your souls, — yoiu" mind-* and heart — by which you perceive and cherish ^^""^^^^ the truth — unclouded. If they be darkened, it mil turn Matt. 6.19-23. your heart away from the right and divine. The body without the eye is in darkness; for light entei-s only by the eye, as from a lamp. When your eye is sound, your body is full of hght ; when it is darkened, all within is night. So is it with the eye of the soul." " Do not fancy," He continued, " that you can join the striving for riches and for the kingdom of God. They are absolutely opposed. No man can serve two masters whose interests are opposite. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will hold to the one and despise the other. You cannot worship the God of heaven, and Mammon, the god of riches.P To serve God, and yet make money your idol, is impossible ! They are opposites !" "An undivided heart, which worships God alone, and trusts Him as it should, is raised above anxiety for earthly wants. Therefore, I say unto you. Be not anxious for your life, what ye shall eat, nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on.^^ Is not the life more than the food, and the body 25 schieier- ^ / ./ macher, than the raiment ? Behold the birds of the air ; they sow ^^'"sten, Hi. not, neither reap, nor gather into barns, and yet your Hea- Matt.6. 24-34. venly Father feeds them.i Are ye not much better than they? Which of you, by anxious thought, can add one cubit to' the length of his life ? And about raiment why are ye anxious? Consider the hUes of the field, how fair and beautiful they grow.^" They toil not, neither do they spin, ™ sepp, m. 207. and yet Solomon, in his royal robes, was not arrayed hke 84 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. OH. xxxTO. one of these. And if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into an oven,'^ will He not much more clothe you, 0 ye of little faith ? Be not, therefore, anxious, saj'ing, ^Vhat shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or what shall we put on ? ^ For the Gentiles seek after all these things. But your Heavenly Father knows that ye have need of them. Seek, first, His kingdom and righteous- ness, and they shall all be added to you. Be not, therefore, 31 scueier- auxious for the morrow.^^ The morrow will have its o'wn macher, m.'^'Duk'ek cares. Each day's evil is sufficient for the day." He enjoins itondw^rker- not idlc indiffcrcnce and easiness of temper, but the freedom from care of a soul which firmly trusts in the Providence of God. The citizens of the New Kingdom might well confide in tiieir Heavenly Father, and amidst all the trials and straits even of such a martyr life as had been predicted for them, might and should retain calm and unshaken con- fidence in the sustaining and guiding wisdom and love of God. As His children, they had an express right to look for His all-sufficient care. No vice was more rank among the Jews, through the influence of their priestly and Rabbinical leaders, than narrow bigotry, which condemned all opinions varying in the least from their own. They were trained to take it for granted that their whole rehgious system, in its minutest forms and rules — their religious thought, faith, and life — had been revealed by God from heaven. They were a nation of fanatics, ready to fight to the death for any one of the ten thousand ritual injunctions of their religious teachers. A discourse designed to proclaim the advent, character, and laws of the new theocracy, could not close without touching on the duties of social life, and laying down principles for guidance. He had enjoined the broad law of gentle love, as the rule for intercourse with men at large. He now illustrates it in additional applications. 32 Matt. 7.1-12. " Judge not," said He, "that ye be not judged'^- (by God); seo Sermon" coudcmn uot, and ye shall not be condemned : forgive, and by Schleier- t J , It^^a^^^' ye shall be forgiven. For with what judgment ye judge A^MStioDB, (men) ye shall be judged (hereafter). Give, and it will be 2oT ^ given to you ; good measure, pressed do^vn, shaken together, SchenkeL 101. o ^ ? o 7 x 7 tj 1 PEAHLS BEFORE SWINE. 85 running over, will they give into your bosom. For witli o^- xxsvn. what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you. Be charitable respecting the errors and shortcomings of others, that you may not have your own sins brought against you at the great day, and find there the condemnation you have yourself shown here. It is a fearful thing for you, who are to teach men, to fiiU away from the truth, for how, then, will you instruct sinful men aright ? If the bhnd attempt to lead the blind both fiall into a ditch, and if you your- selves be wrong you cannot lead others, who know nothing of it, to the salvation of the New Kingdom. You wiU both go more and more hopelessly wrong, till, at last, you sink into Gehenna. Those you teach cannot be wiser than you, their teachers, for a disciple is not above his master, but comes, at best, in the end, to be like him. If, then, you would not be blind leaders of the blind, take care, before you essay to judge and better the religious state of others, to examine your own spiritual condition, and reform what- ever is Avrong in it.^^ Why should you mark the atom of "Luke 6.39-41. straw or dust that is in your brother's eye — his petty fault — if you do not, in your self-righteousness, see the beam that is in your o-\\ti eye?^^' Self-blinded hypocrite ! first cast the « seeacunous J J J ± L&y Sennon beam out of your o^-a. eye, and then you AviU see clearly to glrie^j^^^jl;'"' cast the mote out of your brother's eye." DX's,"i65.' "You ■s\'ill meet -Rath men," He continued, "who, when the divine truth is offered them, AviU only profane it — men utterly ungodly and hardened, who wilfuUy reject the counsel of God, with blasphemy, mocking, and slandering. Do not put it in their power to dishonour it. To do so is like casting a holy thing to the street dogs, or throwing pearls before wild swine, who would only trample them as worthless under their feet, and turn against yourselves and rend you. "^'" « SeeSennoos "You will need heli) from God in your great task; for macher.iii. J- J b ' 40, 69, 84. your o-rni spiritual welfare, and for success in your work. Ask, therefore, and it will be given you ; seek, and ye wiU find ; knock, and it wUl be opened to you. For every one that asks receives; and he that seeks finds; and to him that knocks it shall be opened. If your son ask bread, do 86 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. cH, xxxvn. you mock him by giving him a stone ? or, if he ask a fish, do you mock him by giving him a serpent ? or, if he ask an »• Luke 11. 12. egg, will you give him a scorpion P^^'' You need, then, have no fear of refusal of spiritual help from your Heavenly Father, for if you who are sinful, though members of the New Kingdom, would not think of refusing to supply the wants of your children, far less will your Father above refuse you, His spmtual children, what you need." Jesus had now come to the close of His exposition of the nature and duties of His kingdom, and ended His statement of them by a brief recapitulation and summary of all He had said of the latter, in their relation to men at large. " AU things, therefore, whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye also so to them, for this is the law and the prophets." The Law had said, " Thou shalt love thy neigh- s' Lev. 19. 18. hour as thyself,"^" but it had meant by neighbour a Jew or a proselyte, and had commanded the extirpation of the Canaanites, and sanctioned merciless war with the heathen around. These grand words were, therefore, a rule for the nation toAvards its own members, but no gi'eat law for man- kind. But Jesus ignores this narrowness, and proclaims all men brethren, as common children of one Father in Heaven. This golden rule had been proclaimed more or less fully 3s B.C. 436-338. before. It is found in Socrates^* and Menander,^^ and even » B.C. 342-291. • .j.|jg Chinese classics.*" Philo quotes, as an old Jemsh say- « Ewald, iv.270. T- ' •' ing, "Do not to others what you would be unwilling to " ch.4.15. suffer ;" and the book of Tobit ^^ enjoins, " Do that to no man which thou hatest."^ In the generation before Jesus it had been repeated by Hillel to a heathen, who mockingly asked him if he could teach him the whole Law while he stood on one foot. " What you would not like done to yourself, do not to thy neighbour," replied the Rabbi — "this is the whole Law : all the rest is a commentary on it — go learn « Hmein.jesus, this." *" But, as Hillel gave it, this noble answer was only °'' misleading. It was striking to find a Rabbi with such enhghtened insight into the essence of the Law as to see that all its ordinances and rites had a moral end, but the Law was much more than a mere code of morals be- tween man and man. Its fitting summary is much rather THE PERORATION. 87 that central requirement repeated each day, even till now, ch. ssxvn. by every Jew in his prayers — "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might."'*^ JMorality, apart from its rehgious basis and « Deat.6.6. supreme enforcement, degrades the Law to a level with the common moraUty of the world at large.** It was reserved « Huieiu.jeaus, for Jesus to announce our duty to man in its subordination to our higher relation to God ; to make it only part of that filial love which reflects the tenderness on all our brethren which it feels supremely towards their Father and ours, in Heaven. With Him, love of universal humanity has its deep religious ground in the love of God whom we are to resemble, — towards all the race, as His children. The love of man. He tells us, is the second great commandment; not the first ;*^ it is the moon shining; by light borrowed from« Mark 12. ' O J O ^ 28—34. that Sun. The highest of the Rabbis cannot stand in the presence of the Son of Mary ! ■*" « Eisey, i. iss. ^ •' . Keim, ii. 184. He had reached His peroration. It remained only to ai".3i- add solemn warnings, and these He now gave. " Enter in," said He, " through the narrow gate,*^ for narrow is the gate « Land ana ■ O O 1 O Book, 28. and straitened is the way of self-denial and struggle that ?i^,"-«-;?-:?- J on Luke6.44 — 16. leads to life, and few there are that find it. But wide is the gate and broad is the way of sin that leads to destruction, and those who enter through it are many. Beware of false teachers,** who would turn you aside from the safe road. « LAntechrist, They will come to you affecting to be my followers, but they wiU be only wolves in sheep's clothing. You wiU know them fully by their fruits — that is, by their lives. Do men gather grapes off thorns, or figs off thistles ? *** So, every « Tristram, 426, good tree brings forth good fruit ; but the corrupt tree brings Herzog, xi 25. forth evil fruit. The good, out of the good treasure of the heart, bring forth that which is good ; and the evil man, out of the evil, brings forth that which is evil ; for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.^" A good tree » Lute e. 45. cannot bring forth evil fruit ; neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Have nothing to do -ndth them, and do not follow them, for every tree that brings not forth good fruit is cut do-\vn, and cast into the fire. So, then, by their fruits ye will know them fuUy." K Luke 6. 46. 88 THE LIFE OP CHRIST. m. xxxvn: " Nor is the dang-ci" of being led astray by false teachers light, for not all who acknowledge me as their Master will enter into the glor)' of the heavenly Kingdom, but those only who do the wiU of my Father, who is in heaven. Many will say to me in that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not teach in Thy name confessing Thee as Jesus Messias, and by the power of Thy name cast out devils, and, by the same power, did we not do many mighty works, owning Thee, and working through Thee, in all things ? ' ^ And then shall I say unto them, ' I never knew you ; depart from me, ye that work iniquity.' Take warning, for even some of you call me Lord, Winer, isi. Lord,^^ and do not the things which I say."^'- That one in the position of Jesus, an unknown Gulikuan ; untrained in the schools ; in early manhood ; with no sup- port from the learned or the powerful, should have used such words, in a discourse so transcendently lofty in its teachings, is to be explained only on the ground that He spoke with a divine consciousness of being the Messiah, Avho should hereafter be the Judge of mankind. He calmly founds a kingdom in which the only rewards and punish- ments are those of the conscience here, and those of eter- nity, after death. He bears Himself, and speaks, as a King ; supersedes or perfects the laws of the existing theocracy as He thinks best ; invites adherents, but warns off all except the trul)^ got^lly and sincere, by holding out the most dis- couraging prospects through life ; keeps aloof from the civil or ecclesiastical authorities, and acts independently of both. Finally, as the one law of His invisible kingdom in the souls of men. He requires supreme love and devotion to Himself, and demands that this be shown by humble and continuous efforts after likeness to God, and by the imita- tion of His own pure and universal love to mankind. To have conceived a spiritual empire so unique in the history of religion, is to have proved His title to His highest claims. His concluding words are in keeping with these. He had announced that He would judge the world at the great day, and now makes hearty acceptance and performance of His commands the condition of future salvation or ruin. "Every one, therefore (now, or hereafter), who hears these sayings A VIVID CONTRAST. 89 of mine and obeys them, is like a man, who, in building a caxxxvii. house, digged deep, and laid a foundation upon the rock. And the winter rains fell,^^ and the torrents rose, and the '^ Keim. u. 32. ' Matt. 7. 24 — 27. storms blew, and beat upon that house, and did not shake i-Bkee.i?— 49. it, because it was well built, and had been founded upon the rock. But every one who hears them, and does not obey them, is like a foolish man, who, without a foundation, built his house upon the sandy earth. And the rain descended, and the torrents rushed down, and the ■\^'inds blew, and beat upon that house, and straightway it fell, and the ruin of that house was great." ^ No wonder that when He had finished such an address, the multitudes were astonished at His teaching. They had been accustomed to the tame and slavish servility of the Rabbis, with their dread of varying a word from precedent and authority ; their cobwebbery of endless sophistries and verbal trifling ; their laborious dissertations on the infinitely little ; their unconscious oversight of all that could afi"ect the heart ; their industrious, trackings through the jungles of tradition and prescription ; and felt that in the preaching of Jesus, they, for the first time, had something that stirred their souls, and came home to their consciences. One of the Rabbis had boasted that every verse of the Bible was capable of six hundred thousand difi^erent explanations, and there were seventy different modes of interpretation cur- rent,^* but the vast mass of explanations and interpretations m Esen- were no better than pedantic folly, concerning itself mth EmSte^. . . .,. • . 1 • 1 1 1 1 . ,. Jnd.i.453. mere insignificant mmutiaj which had no bearing on reh- «"• gion or morals. Instead of this, Jesus had spoken as a legislator, vested -ndth greater authority than ]\Ioses. To transmit, unchanged, the traditions received from the past, was the one idea of all other teachers; but He, while reverent, was not afraid to criticize, to reject, and to supplement. To venture on originality, and independence was something hitherto unknown. The life of Jesus, in all its aspects, is the gi-eat lesson of humanity : His death is its hope. But there lies a won- drous treasure in His words. What but a pure and sinless soul could have conceived such an idea of God as the 90 THE LIFE OF CHRIST, OH. xxxvn Father of mankind, drawing us to Himself by the attraction of holy and exhaustless love? "It could only rise," says Hausrath, "in a spirit that stood pure, guiltless, and sinless before God — a spii'it in which all human unrest and disturb- ance were unknown, on which there lay no sense of the littleness of life, no distracting feeling of disappointed am- bition. Sinful man, with a stained or even uneasy conscience, will alwaj's think of God as jealous, -RTathful, and about to avenge Himself. The revelation that God is the Father of men could rise only in a mind in which the image of God miiTored itself in calm completeness, because the mirror had no specks to mar it. The revelation of God as the Father is the strongest proof of the absolute perfection « Hangrath, i. of the liumau nature in Jesus." ''•'' "He has left us not only a life, but a rich world of thoughts," »DerG«- says Kcim,^" "in which all the best inspirations and long- christuB, m. ings of mankind meet and are reflected. It is the expression of the purest and directest truths which rise in the dearths of the soul, and they are made common to all mankind by being uttered in the simplest and most popular form." OPEN CONFLICT. 91 CHAPTER XXXVIII. OPEN CONFLICT. JESUS had now been some months in Galilee, and the "^^^ ^^5^"' season of the great feasts had returned. It was meet that Judea, which had rejected Him when He first preached in it, should be once more visited, and the news of the King- dom once more sent abroad among the throngs of pilgrims from every part of the world, attracted at such times to Jerusalem. Leaving the north, therefore, for a time, He again jour- neyed south ; perhaps by short stages, preaching as He went ; perhaps with one of the bands of pilgrims which gathered from each neighbourhood to go up to " the House of the Lord." No voice Avould join with so rapt a devotion in the joyful solemnities of such a journey, — in the psalms that enlivened the way, — or the formal devotions of morning and evening. But what feast it was He thus honoured is not told, nor are there means for deciding. That of Purim, a month before the Passover, the Passover itself, Pentecost, and the Feast of Tabernacles, have each found favour on plausible grounds, but where there is such contrariety of opinion, the safest course is to leave the matter unsettled."^ Ofthe\dsitwe know only one incident,^ but it was the ' Jo^^ «• i-*' turning point in the life of Our Lord. Jerusalem in those days was a contrast in its water supply, as in much else, to the fallen glory of its present condition. Several natural springs seem to have flowed in the city or near it, in ancient times, but they have long been choked up, with the exception of the single " Fountain of the Virgin," stiU found in the Kedron valley. There is now, besides, only a single well — that of Joab, at the junction of the Kedron 92 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. OH. xxxvnL and Hinnom valleys, near Siloam, south-cast from the town. It was doubtless used in Christ's day, and it is still one of the principal sources of summer supply for Jerusalem, though, like everything else, under the withering speU of Turkish rule, it is in such disrepair that its water, drawn from a depth of 125 feet, is tainted with sewage. The ancient supply, however, seems to have been mainly o})tained by collecting tlie rain water in pools and cisterns, and by aque- ducts which drained distant hills, and brought abundance into the various public pools and reservoirs of the city and Temple,'' the space beneath which was honeycombed by immense rock-hewn cisterns. Many houses, also, had cisterns, hewn in the rock, in the shape of an inverted funnel, to collect the rain, but it was from the numerous "pools" that the public supply was mainly derived. Eight still remain, in greater or less extreme decay, and there appear to have been at least three others, in ancient times. One of the most famous of these, in Christ's day, was known as the Pool of Bethesda, which recent explorations appear to have re-discovered at the north-west corner of the Temple enclosure. If the identification be valid, the pool was a gi^eat reservoir, 165 feet in length, he^uTi in the limestone rock to a breadth of 48 feet, and divided in halves by a pier of masonry 5 feet thick, built across it. Water still enters it from the north-west corner, and is probably an abun- dant spring, though now so mixed with drainage as to be unfit for drinking. Eusebius speaks of the Bethesda of his day as " twin pools, one of which is filled by the rains of the year, but the other has Avater tinged in an extraordinary ^ onomasticon, wav with red." "^ This effect was likely produced by the quoted "».,.„ ^ ^ J jeiSem,i9G ''^pi^ mflux of Water through underground channels, after heavy rains. It is said by St. John to have been close to the "Sheep Gate" — the entrance, doubtless, of the numerous flocks for the Temple market." Bathing in mineral waters has, in all ages, been regarded as one of the most potent aids to recovery from various diseases, and in the East, where water is everything, this belief has 3 vaihinger, in always prevailed.^ The Pool of Bethesda, from whatever Herzog, i 6o7. '' ^ . -lo i. • • i-i cause, was m especial favour for its curative powers, which TEE POOL OF BETHESDA. 93 were supposed to be most effective when the waters were en. ssxvm. " troubled," either by the discoloration after heavy rains, or by periodical flo-sving after intermission, as is still the case with the Fountain of the Virgin, near Siloam."^ Natural explanations of ordinaryphenomenawere unknown in these simple times, for there was no such thing as science. Among the Jews, as among other races, everything was attributed to the direct action of supernatural beings. In the Book of Jubilees,* which shows the popular ideas of* ^^pj;., ''^^ Christ's day, there are angels of adoration, of fire, wind, Jn'^efSog, iv. clouds, hail, hoar frost, valleys, thunder, hghtning, winter, spring, summer, and autumn, and of "all things in the heavens and earth, and in all valleys; of darkness, of light, of dawn, and of evening." The heahng powers of the Bethesda waters were, hence, ascribed to periodical visits of an angel, who "troubled the water." Popular fancy had, indeed, created a complicated legend to account for the wonder. At least as far back as the days of Nehemiah,' the ebbing and = cimp. 2. 13. flowing of some springs had been ascribed to a great dragon which lived at the source, and drank up the waters when it woke, lea-sdng them to flow only while it was asleep. It Avas even said that a good angel dwelt beside healing springs, and each morning gave them their vii-tue afresh, and a Rablji had gone so far as to report that, as he sat by a fountain, the good angel who dwelt in it appeared to him, and said that a demon was tr}ing to get into it, to hurt those who frequented it. He was, therefore, to go and tell the townsfolks to come with hammers, or iron rods or bars,^ and beat the water till' yajim.??*. ' * ' _ Sepp, u. 37. it grew red with thick drops of blood — the sign that the ^g^;;'- °^''- '"• demon was conquered and slain." Some such fanciful notions, based, very probably, on real curative powers in the water at certain seasons, attracted daily to Bethesda a multitude of unfortunates who hoped to be healed of bhndness, atrophy, lameness, and other infirmities, by bathing at the right moment a sufficient number of times. Charity had built five porches round the pool, to afford the crowd a shelter, and these, and the great steps leading down to the waters, were constantly thronged, like the steps of a sacred bathing-place to-day, on the Ganges. oaxxxvnt 94 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. Among the sufferers was one who had been helplessly crippled l)y rheumatism* or paralysis for thirty-eight years, but still clung to the hope that he would, one day, be healed. He had, apparently, had himself brought from a distant part, for he had no friends on the spot, and, hence, had the pain of many times seeing others, less helpless, crowd into the waters, while he lay on his mat for want of some pitying aid. Jesus had every motive, at this time, to avoid atti'acting attention in Jerusalem, for it might rouse the open hostility of the Church authorities, which already only waited an opportunity. The pitiful plight of the sufferer, however, awoke His compassion, and in s}'mpathy for his story, though without conunitting Himself to his notions, he healed him by a word, telling him to " rise, take up his sleeping-mat, and walk." The common feelings of humanity, one might have thought, would have followed an act so tender and beautiful, Avith admiration and heart}- approval. But there is no crime that may not be done by fanaticism allied to religious opinions ; no deadness to true religion too profound for the champion- ship of fancied orthodoxy. Pity, charity, recognition of worth, or nobleness of act or word, give place to remorseless hatred and bloodthirsty vengeance where there is religious hatred. Inquisitors who sent thousands to the stake for an abstract proposition, or immured them in dungeons, and feasted on their torture for incapacity to repeat some wretched Shibboleth, have been amiable &hd gentle in all other relations. The hierarchical party in Jerusalem com- prised men of all dispositions, and of every shade of sincerity, and its opposite. But it had been touched in its tenderest susceptibilities by the preaching of the Baptist ; for it had been called to account, and had had its shortcomings held up before the nation. The instinct of self-preser-\-ation, and the conservatism of a priestly and legal order, were instantly roused, and assailed the Reformer with the cry that the Law and the Temple were in danger. The Baptist had already fallen ; most likely by their help ; but a successor more to be dreaded, had risen in Jesus. They had watched His course SABBATH STRICTNESS. ' 95 in Galilee with anxiety, which had already shown itself ch.sxxviii. during His first short visit to Jerusalem at the Passover before, and in His subsequent circuits through Judea. Spies, sent from Jerusalem, dogged His steps and noted His words and acts, to report them duly to the ecclesiastical authorities, who had seen more clearly, day by day, that a mortal struggle was inevitable between the old Theocracy and the Innovator. Everything was in theu' favour. They were in power, and could at any moment bring Him before their own courts on trial, even for life. But they dreaded overt hostility, and for a time preferred to undermine Him secretly, by mooting suspicions among the people of His being a heretic, or affecting to think Him a mere crazed enthusiast. His most innocent sayings Avere perverted to evil ; His purest aims purposely misconstrued. Only the favour of the peojile, and His own moderation, prudence, and wisdom, warded off open violence. He had now, however, given a pretext for more decided action than they had yet taken. No feature of the Jewish system was so marked as their extraordinary strictness in the outward observance of the Sabbath, as a day of entire rest. The Scribes had elaborated from the command of Moses, a vast array of prohibitions and injunctions, covering the whole of social, individual, and pubhc hfe, and carried it to the extreme of ridiculous caricature. Lengthened rules were prescribed as to the kinds of knots which might legally be tied on Sabbath. The camel-driver's knot and the sailor's were unla^vful, and it was equally illegal to tie or to loose them. A knot which could be untied with one hand might be undone. A shoe or sandal, a woman's cup, a wine or oil-skin, or a flesh-pot might be tied. A pitcher at a spring might be tied to the body-sash, but not with a cord. It was forbidden to write two letters, either with the right hand or the left, whether of the same size or of different sizes, or with different inks, or in different languages, or with any pigment; with ruddle, gum, vitriol, or anything that can make marks ; or even to write two letters, one on each side of a corner of two walls, or on two leaves of 96 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. cH.xixvML a writing-tablet, if they could be read together, or to write them on the body. But they might be written on any dark fluid, on the sap of a fruit-tree, on road-dust, on sand, or on anything in which the writing did not remain. If they were written with the hand turned upside do'\\Ti, or with the foot, or the mouth, or the elbow, or if one letter were added to another previously made, or other letters traced over, or if a person designed to -svi'ite the letter n and only wrote two t t, or if he wrote one letter on the ground and one on the wall, or on two walls, or on two pages of a book, so that they could not be read together, it was not illegal. If a person, through forgetfulness, wrote two characters at different times, one in the morning, the other, perhaps towards evening, it was a question among the Rabbis whether he had or had not broken the Sabbath. The quantity of food that might be carried on Sabbath from one place to another was duly settled. It must be less in bulk tlian a dried fig : if of honey, only as much as would anoint a wound ; if water, as much as would make eye-salve ; if paper, as much as would be put in a phylactery ; ' sohurer, 490. if ink, as much as would form two letters.'' To kindle or extinguish a fire on the Sabbath was a great desecration of the day, nor was even sickness allowed to violate Rabbinical rules. It was forbidden to give an emetic on Sabbath — to set a broken bone, or put back a dislocated e MSchabb. joint,* though some Rabbis, more liberal, held that whatever endangered life made the Sabbath law void, " for the com- mands were given to Israel only that they might live by sLeT.i8.i. them."^s One who was buried under ruins on Sabbath, might be dug for and taken out, if alive, but, if dead, he was 10 joma,viii.7. to be left where he was, till the Sabbath was over.^° The holy day began with sunset on Friday, and ended with the sunset of Saturday, but as the disappearance of the sun was the only mark of the time, its commencement was different on a hiU-top and in a valley. If it were cloudy, the hens going to roost was the signal. The beginning and close of the Sabbath were announced by a trumpet from the Temple, and in the different to^vns. From the decline of the sun on Friday, to its setting, was Sabbath-eve, and no THE SABBATH DAY JOTIRNET. 97 work wliicli would continue into the hours of Sabbath, ch. sxsviu. could be done in this interval. All food must be prepared, all vessels washed, and all lights kindled, before sunset. The money girdle must be taken off, and all tools laid aside. " On Friday, before the beginning of the Sabbath," said one law, "no one must go out of his house with a needle or a pen, lest he forget to lay them aside before the Sabbath opens. Every one must also search his pockets at that time, to see that there is nothing left in them with which it is forbidden to 2;o out on the Sabbath."^^ The refinements of" orach o Chajun, ed. Rabbinical casuistry were, indeed, endless. To wear one Liivre,p.5o. kind of sandals was carrjing a burden, while to wear another kind was not. One might cany a burden on his shoulder, but it must not be slung between two.^^ It was un- '^ ongen;^^ la-iv-ful to go out ■^^^th wooden sandals or shoes which had G'™er,i.i8. nails in the soles, or with a shoe and a slipper, unless one foot were hurt.^^ It was unlawful for any one to carry a '= Mi^^^^m^ loaf on the public street, but if two carried it, it was not ==• ^■ unlawful." The Sabbath was beUeved to prevail in all its" ofrsrer, i. is. strictness, from eternity, throughout the universe. All the Rabbinical precepts respecting it had been revealed to Jacob from the orioinals on the tablets of heaven. ^^ Even in hell '= B.d.jubii. O c. oU. the lost had rest from their torments on its sacred hours, and the waters of Bethesda might be troubled on other days, but were still and unmoved on this."'' " sepp.iv.as. In an insincere age such excessive strictness led to constant evasions by Pharisees and Sadducees ahke. To escape the restrictions which limited a journey on Sabbath to 2,000 cubits from a town or city, they carried food on Friday evening to a spot that distance beyond the walls, and assumed, by a fiction, that this made that spot also their dwelling. They could thus on the Sabbath walk the fuU distance to it, and an equal distance beyond it, this journey being only the legal distance from the fictitious place of residence!^' To make it la-\\'ful to eat together on the "-^Derenbonra Sabbath the Rabbis put chains across the two ends of a street, in which the members of a special fraternity lived, and called it a single dwelling, while to excuse their carrpng the materials of their Sabbath repast to the common hall, VOL. n. 46 98 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CH. xxxvm. they eacli laid some food in it on Friday evening, to create the fiction of its being part of the common dwelling. The priestly Sadducees, on the other hand, made no scruple to have even the beasts destined for their kitchen driven to their shambles on the Sabbath, on the pretext that their common meals were only a continuation of the Temple service, by which the rest of the Sabbath was not legally broken. Nor were such equivocations the only liberties taken with the sacred day, for, however uncompromising with others, the Pharisees were disposed to violate the Sabbath laws when occasion demanded. They had one maxim, timidly applied it is true, but still theii's : "The Sabbath is for you, but you are not for the Sabljath ; " and another, still bolder, " ^lake a common day of }-our Sabbath rather than go to IS Derenbonrg, your ucidibour for hclp."^** IW, 1«. -' O i 1.11 The priests and Rabbis, thus secretly indulgent to them- selves, but austerely strict before the world, found an opportunity in the cure at Bethesda for parading their hollow puritanism, and at the same time raising a charge against Jesus, for the man had been healed on the Sabbath, '• See page M. and had been told to carry his sleeping-mat^^ with him to his home. This was enough. ]\Iet in the street, cai-rying his pallet, by one of these purists, he had been reprimanded for doing so as contrary to the Law, and had shielded himself by the command of Him who had miraculously cured him. It was not till some time after, when Jesus had come upon him in the Temple, that he knew the name of his benefactor, for Jesus had hurried away from the pool, after curing him, to avoid exciting the multitude round. It seems from the caution given him at this second meeting, to " sin no more, lest something worse should befall him," as if the man had brought his infirmity on him- self by misconduct. Nor did his after-conduct do him much credit. He had no sooner discovered the fact than he went to the officials and told who had healed him. From that moment the doom of Jesus was fixed. Pharisee and Sadducee, Rabbi and priest, forgetting their mutual hatreds, caballed, henceforth, to fasten such accusations upon Him THE AUTHORITIES TAKE ACTION. 99 as Avould secure His death, and never faltered in their oh.xsxvui resolve till they carried it out, two years later, on Calvary. Jesus seems forthwith to have been for the first time cited before the authorities, on the formal charge of Sabbath- breaking ; but His judges were little prepared for the tone of His defence. Left to answer for Himself, He threw the assemljly into a paroxysm of rehgious fury by claiming to work at all times for the good of men, since it was only what God, His Father, had done, notwithstanding the Sabbath Law, from the beginning. As His Son, He was as little to be fettered by that Law or subject to it, and was Lord of the Sabbath. The assembly saw what this implied. He had added to His Sabbath desecration the higher crime of blasphemously " making Himself equal with God, by calling Him specially' His father." ^o The excitement must have *" Joi>° 5. w. been greiat, for Orientals give free vent to their feelings, under any circumstances. Some years after, the same tribunal, with the crowd of spectators, gnashed their teeth at the martyr Stephen in their infuriated bigotr}^, and cried out "with loud voices, and stopped their ears at his words.'^ =' Acta ^. s4, 57. In all probability a similar storm rose around Jesus now. But He remained perfectly calm, and when silence was in a measure restored, proceeded with His defence against this second charge. He did not for a moment deny that they were right in the meaning they put on His Avords, but stated more fully why He used them. It was impossible for Him to act inde- pendently of His Father; He could only do so if He were not His Son. There was absolute oneness in the spirit and aim of the works of both, as in those of a son who looks mth reverence at the acts of a Father, and has no thought but to reproduce them. " My Father, God, in His love for me, the Son, lays ever open before me, in direct self-disclosure, all that He Himself does, that I may do the same. You marvel at my healing the lame man, but the Father vnM show me greater works than this, that I may repeat them here on earth, and that you may wonder, not in ciu-iosity as now, but in shame at your unbelief" "Let me teU you," He continued, " what these gi-eater works 100 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. OH. xxxvm. are. In your Law it is the special prerogative of the Father « Deut.32.39. to awaken and quicken the dead,^^ but it is mine also, for I, 1 Sam. 2.6. , i , ' . , . |^*j'™2 the Son, quicken whom I will. And as to judging men le.'is?™" here (as to their spiritual state), it is left to me alone by my Father, that all men may honour me as His representative, as they honour Him. He who does not honour me, the Son, does not honour the Father who sent me. If you wish to know whom I spiritually quicken, they are those who hear my Avord, and beheve Him who sent me, for they have everlasting hfe even here, and are not under condemnation, but have passed from death to life. Verily, verily, I say unto you. The hour is coming, and now is, when the (spiritually) dead will hear my voice — the voice of the Son of God, and they that hear it shall live. I thus wake them to life, because the Father has made me the divine fountdn of life, as He Himself, the living God, is. He has also given me authority to judge men, because I am the Son of man. " But marvel not at what I have said of Avaking and judging the spiritually dead, for I will do yet greater works. I shall one day raise the actually dead from their graves, and wiU judge them at the great day, raising those that did good in this world to the resurrection of life, and those that did evil to a resurrection of judgment. Nor is there a fear of error, for I can do nothing of myself I judge as I hear from God, who, in His abiding communion with me, makes known His divine judgment, which, alone, I utter. Hence my judgment cannot err, because I speak only that of God. " You may say that I am bearing witness respecting my- self, and that, therefore, it is of no value, but, if you think thus, there is another that bears witness to me, and ye know that His testimony is true — I mean God, Himself You sent to John, and he bore witness to the truth. But the testimony I receive is not that of man. I only say these things that you may be saved, by taking John's testimony to heart, and being waked by it to faith in Me, and a share in the salvation which, as the Messiah, I oflFer you. "WQiat a wondrous appearance John was ! He was a burning and shining lamp, and 3'ou wished for a time to rejoice in his JESUS MAKES HIS DEFENCE. 101 liglit, but when you found that he called you to repentance ch. xxxyiu. rather than to national glory and woi-ldly prosperity, you forsook him and became his enemies. The light he shed was not of the kind you desired. " But I have a witness which is greater than that of John. The work which the Father has given me to bring to completion — the work of founding and raising the new kingdom of God, as His Messiah, — this, in all that it implies of outward and spiritual wonders, bears witness that the Father has sent me. And not only does God Himself testify of me indirectly, by my work as His Messiah : He does so directly, in your Scriptures. But ye have not recognized the voice of this testimony, nor realized the image of me it presents. You are spiritually deaf to the one, and blind to the other. Ye have not the true sense of God's word in your consciences, for you do not believe in His Messiah, whom He has sent, and of whom these Scriptures testify. They witness to me as the mediator of eternal life, and, therefore, every one who humbly studies them as the guide to that life, will be pointed by them to me. You search the Scriptures professing to wish to find life, and yet refuse to accept me ! How self-contradictory and self- condemning ! "I do not reproach you thus, from any feeUng of wounded pride, for I care nothing for the applause of men. I do it because I know the ground of your disbelief — you have not the love of God in your hearts. If you had, you would recognize and receive His Son whom He has sent. I have come in my Father's name, as His commissioned repre- sentative— the true Messiah — and you have rejected me with unbeUeving contempt, but when a false Messiah comes in his own name, you ynU. receive him ! It is no wonder you have rejected me, for how is it possible that such as you could beheve, who have no higher craving than to give and accept empty earthly honours, and are indifferent to the only true honour that comes from being acknowledged and praised of God ? " You trust in Moses, who, you think, has promised you favour with God, here and hereafter. Beware ! there is no 102 THE LIFE OF CHRIST, CH xxxvm. need that I should accuse you before my Father, for your unbelief in me. j\Ioses, himself, in the books in Avhich you trust, is your accuser, for if ye had believed His writings ye would have believed me, for he wrote of me. But if ye be so blinded as neither to see, nor to believe his writings, how will ye believe my words ?" The authorities had never had such a prisoner before them. They knew not what to do with Him, and, in their confusion and utter defeat, could only let Him depart un- harmed. They had not yet summoned courage to proceed to open violence. This was the turning point in the life of Jesus. Till now. He had enjoyed a measui'e of toleration and even of accept- ance, but, henceforth, all was changed. Jerusalem was no longer safe for Him, and, even in Gahlee, He was dogged by » Eiucott, 143. determined enmity.^^ The shadow of the Cross darkened His whole future career. Free from His enemies, Jesus appears to have returned at once to Galilee, in the hope, perhaps, that there, far from Jerusalem, •with its fierce religious fanaticism and malevolent hypocrisy, He could breathe more freely, in the still and clear air of the hills. But religious hatred is beyond all others intense and persistent. There Avere Rabbis and priests there, as well as in the south, and they watched His every step. A fresh occasion for accusation could not be long of ' rising. He had left Jerusalem immediately after the Pass- over, and on the Sabbath after the second day of the =• Ewaid's Feast "^ — or, it may be, a Sabbath later ^* — a new charge was V.380 brought against Him. In the short distance which it was Bibel Lei. v. o o foot, in'to^'' lawful to walk on a Sabbath — ^less than three-quarters of a Marii2f^ mile' — the path lay through ripening fields of barley — for Luke 6. 1-5. Nisan, the Passover month, was the ancient Abib, or month of earing, and the first early sheaf was offered on the second day of the Passover. It was by the Law, and by Eastern custom, free to all to pluck ears enough in a corn-field, or « Land and grapcs cnough from a vine, to supply hunger,-" and the EWd^s^Ait. disciples, as every Oriental stiU does in the same circum- %y^l'^\^% stances, availed themselves of this liberty, plucking some Eutll2.'2. SPIES AND INFORMEES. 103 ears of the barley, and rubbing them with their hands as CH.rsxvia they went on. The field must have been near some town, most likely Capernaum, for a number of people were about, and among others, some spies."* It was no wonder both He and the disciples were hungry, for no Jew could break his fast till after the morning service at the synagogue, or take supper till after the evening service, but He had sanctioned two offences against the Sabbath laws. The plucking the ears was a kind of reaping, and the rubbing was a kind of grinding or threshing. Besides, it was required that all food should be prepared on Friday, before sunset, and the rubbing was a preparation." On any other day there would have been no cause of blame, but to break the Sabbath rather than suffer hunger for a few hours, was guilt worthy of stoning." Was it not their boast that Jews were known, over the world, by their readiness to die rather than break the holy day ? Every one had stories of grand fidelity to it. The Jewish sailor had refused, even when threatened with death, to touch the helm a moment after the sun had set on Friday, though a storm was raging ; and had not thousands let themselves be butchered rather than touch a weapon in self-defence on the Sabbath ? The " new doctrine " of Jesus would turn the world upside down^^ if not stopped ! m Actar. e. The spies of the hierarchical party, who had seen the oflfence, at once accused Him for allowing it, but His answer only made matters worse. He reminded them how David, when pressed by hunger, in his flight from Saul, had eaten the holy bread and given it to his followers, though it Avas not lawful for any but priests to eat it."P» isain.21.1. Did that not show that the claims of nature overrode those of a ceremonial rule ? that the necessity of David and his followers was to be considered before the observance of a tradition ? The law of nature came from God ; the theo- cratic prohibition Avas of man. "And have you not read in the Law,"^^ added He, "how the priests Avork at their duties =9 Namb. 28. 9 1. on the Sabbath, and yet are held blameless, though they are in fact breaking the holy day, if your traditions and rules are to be the unbending standard ? 1 What is laAvful for the servants of the Temple to do on Sabbath must much more 104 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. cH.xsxvni. bo lawful fox- ray servants to do on that day, for I am greater than the Temple. You condemn my disciples because your thoughts are so fixed on outward rites that you have forgotten how God thinks less of them than of == Hos. 6. 6. acts of mercy. Does He not say,-'* ' I wiU have mercy and not sacrifice ? ' It is in your want of mercy that you accuse my followers. They have, besides, acted under my authority. The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath, as even the Phai'isees allow, and therefore, in any case, its laws must give way before human necessities. But I, the Son of IMan — the representative of man as man — the ]\Iessiah of God — am still higher than any individual man and above all your Sabbath laws." Such a retort and such transcendent claims may well have startled His accusers, but they only deepened their hatred, for bigotry is blind and deaf to any reason. Charge was being added to charge, accusation to accusation. He had claimed the power to forgive sins ; He had associated with publicans and sinnei-s ; He had shown no zeal for washings or fasts, and, now, He had, a second time, openly desecrated the Saljbath. His defence had only made His position towards the Phari- saic laws more antagonistic than ever, for it had denied that they were unconditionally binding. Their authority depended on circumstances : they Avere not owned as directly divine. God had planted a higher law in the human breast, and the system of the Rabbis must yield before it. He had vii-tually alleged that the time was come to free Israel from the yoke of traditional observance, and to raise a new spiritual king- s'' scbenkei, 87. dom ou the imperishable basis of truly divine law.^° By their system man was subordinated to the Sabbath, not the Sabbath to man. This harshness was not the design or wiU of God. The Sabbath had been given by Him for the good of man, and was to be a day of refreshment, peace, and joy, not of pain, sorrow, and teiTor. Jesus, therefore, proclaimed expressly that man is greater than the Sabbath, in direct contradiction to the Pharisaic teaching, which made the Sabbath of immeasurably greater worth than man. Man, and still more Himself, as the representative of humanity, in THE SABBATH QUESTION AGAIN. 105 its abiding dignity and rights — the Son of ^lan — is tlie ch. xssvnL Lord of the Sabbath. It was a proclamation of spiritual freedom. The lowering schoolmen of the day, and the priest!}^ P^ii'ty, felt themselves threatened in their most cherished hopes, wishes, and interests. The breach between them and Jesus had been final, since His half-contemptuous words about the old garment and the old bottles. They had marked Him, definitely, as opposed to traditional Rabbinism, as a danger- ous agitator, and an enemy of the venerated " Hedge of the Law," the glory of successive generations of Rabbis. The hierarchy would at once have indicted Him pubUcly, but for His wide popularity ; the devotion felt for Him by the multi- tudes He had healed or comforted ; the transparent singleness of His aims and labours ; the gentleness and dignity of His character, which enforced reverence ; and His divine humility and lowliness of heart,^^ which made Him so unassailable. " sehentei, so. The s}Tiagogues were, as yet, open to Him, and He still frequented them, for the facilities they ofifered of teaching the people. Another violation of the Pharisaic laws of the Sabbath soon followed, in one of the services. He had gone to the synagogue, and was teaching in it, when He noticed a man^^ whose right hand, withered by long-standing local paralysis and its consequent atrophy,"^ hung helpless by his side. Meanwhile, the Scribes and other Pharisees, now constantly on the watch against Him, sat with keen eyes to see if he would venture to break their Sabbath laws once more, by healing the sufferer, who could claim no help till the sacred day was over, as he was in no immediate danger of life. Their fine-spun casuistry had elaborated endless rides for the treatment of all maladies on the sacred day. A person in health was not to take medicine on the Sabbath. For the toothache, vinegar might be put in the mouth, if it were afterwards swallowed, but it must not be sjaat qut again. A sore throat must not be gargled with oil, but the oil might be swallowed. It was unlawful to rub the teeth with sweet spice for a cure, but, if it were done to sweeten the breath, it was permitted. No fomentations, &c., could be put to aiFected parts of the body.^* One prohibition I must " Hor. Heb. » Matt. 12. 9—14. Mark 3. 1—6. LukeG. 6— 11. 106 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. OH. xzsvin. give in Latin. "Qui pediculum occidit sabb. idem est ac si occidcret caniolum." The school of Schaimnai held it unlawful to comfort the sick, or visit the mourner on the Sabbath, but the school of Hillel permitted it. It ■was clear, therefore, that, if any cure of the withered hand were attempted, there would be ground for another formal charge of Sabbath-breaking, Avliich brought with it death by stoning. But Jesus never feared to do right. No thought of self ever came between Him and His witness to the truth. Looking over at His enemies, as they sat on the chief seats. He read their hearts, and felt that fidelity to the very law which His expected action would be held to have broken, demanded that that act be done. His whole soul was kindled with righteous anger and sorrow at the hardness which forced conscience to be silent, rather than confess the truth. It was needful that such hoUowness and wilful perversity should be exposed. As the Son of God — the jMessiah — sent to found a kingdom of pure spiritual religion. He felt that the wisdom of the schools, priestly mediation, sacrifices, Temple rites, and Sabbath laws, were only a glittering veil, which shut out the know- ledge of eternal truth, alike towards God and towards man. He had taught and healed, announced the kingdom of spirit and truth, cheered the poor, reproved sinners, lifted the humble from tlie dust, and gathered the godly round Himself. Dull, mechanical obedience to worthless forms; or love, from tlie fulness of the heart, was noAv the question, in religion and morals. Should true religion be spread, or M schenkei, 01. CH'or Confirmed?^* Should He silently let blinded men fancy their blind leaders right, or should He brave all, to open their e3-es and lead them into the true Avays of His Father? Looking at the paralyzed man. He bade him rise from the floor, on which, with the rest of the congregation, « schuror,445. hc had bccn sitting,^'' and stand forth in the midst, and, on his doing so, in ready obedience to one so famous, turned once more to the scowling Rabbis on the dais. " Is it lawful on the Sabbath days," He asked them, "to do good, or to do evil, to save life, or to destroy it ? " But they held their THE WITHERED ARM. 107 peace, fearing they might commit themselves by answering ch.xx5viii. without careful reflection. " It is allowable, is it not," He resumed, " to lay hold on a sheep which has fallen into a pit on the Sabbath day, and help it out ? ^'^ How much then, is 37 Hor.Heb.u. a man better than a sheep ? Wherefore it is lawful to do ^"^^ well on the Sabbath." "Stretch forth thy hand," said He, continuing, to the sufferer ; — and the hand which, till then, had hung wasted and lifeless at his side, was healthy and strong as the other. Jesus felt the significance of the moment. He felt that the silence of His accusers was not from conviction, but sullen obstinacy, which had shut its ears against the truth. He felt that, between him and the leaders of the nation, there was henceforth a hopeless separation. They had finally rejected Him, and could henceforward onlj^ seek His destruc- tion. Their fanaticism, now fairly roused, forgot all minor hatreds, and united the hostile factions of the nation in common zeal for His destruction. No parties could be more opposed than the nationalists or Pharisees, and the Friends of Rome'' gathered round Herod Antipas at Tiberias, but they now united to hunt Jesus to the death. The alliance boded the greatest danger, for it showed that, in addition to religious fanaticism. He had now to encounter the suspicion of designing poUtical revolution. The Church and the State had banded together to put " the deceiver of the people " out of the way as soon as possible. It had been inevitable from the first that it should be so. The Jerusalem party expected the "Salvation of Israel" froln the unconditional restoration of the theocracy, with theinselves at its head, and from the strictest enforcement of outward legal observances. While the contrast between Judaism and heathenism was, meanwhile, intensified and embittered to the utmost, they hoped before long to crush Rome, or perish in the attempt. They would have greeted any one who proved able to impose their law, in all its strictness, on mankind, — as a d'eUverer, as the stem from the root of David, as the Saviour and Messiah. In Jesus, on the contrary, there appeai-ed one who, while constraining their wonder at His lofty morality and spiritual greatness, was 108 ■ THE LIFE OF CHRIST. cH.xxxvm, the very opposite of all tliey -wished and hoped. He claimed to be the Messiah, but His ideal of the Messiahship was the antithesis of that of the Rabbis and priesthood. He had announced Himself as the founder of a new theocracy more spiritual and more holy than that of ]\Ioses. He had thrown a new light on the Scriptures ; had revealed God in a new aspect — as no mere national deity, but the Father of all mankind, and He had taught the most startling novelties as to the freedom of the individual conscience. The Rabbis had enjoyed, as their exclusive prerogative, the exposition of Scripture, but now found themselves dethroned by the religious freedom Jesus had proclaimed, and He had even spoken of them as a hindrance of true knowledge. The spirit of His teaching compromised the whole state of things in the religious world. He proclaimed a new future : the vested rights of the day clung to the past, mth which their in- terests and their passions were identified. The new wine was thus already bursting the old bottles, and the result covild not be doubtful. Conservatism felt itself imperilled, for it had been weighed, and found wanting. The priesthood had become a dividing wall be- tween God and Israel. The religious decay of the nation found in it its expression. The sacrifices were mere out- ward forms; the Temple, notwithstanding the glory with which Herod's love of magnificence and hypocritical piety had adorned it, was a symbol of exclusiveness, intolerance, and hatred of humanity at large ; the high officialism of the day, a dam against every reform, every breath of fresh religious thought, and every attempt at a purer spiritual a Schenkel,!. lifc.^* GALILEE. 109 CHAPTER XXXIX. GALILEE. THE opposition of the Rabbis and priests, however chap, ssxix mahgnant and fixed, was as yet confined to secret plottings.^ With the people at large, Jesus continued even • J^^f^/^- increasingly popular. It was advisable, however, to avoid *i'"'''3.7, 12. any pretext for overt hostility, and hence He withdrew from Capernaum for a time, on another mission to the towns and villages on the edge of the Lake, tiU the storm, in a measure, blew over. To the chagrin of his enemies, the multitudes attracted to see and hear Him were larger than ever. The excitement was evidently spreading through all Palestine, for numbers still continued to come from Jerusalem and Idumea on the south ; from Perea and Decapolis and other parts on the east, and even from the heathen district round Tyre and Sidon on the north. There were many Jews settled in every part of the land, and the concourse was no doubt of such almost exclusively. It was even found neces- sary that a boat should attend Him, as He journeyed along the shore, that He might betake Himself to it when the throng gi-ew oppressive. Miraculous cases in great number increased the excitement, many who crowded round Him finding relief by touching even His clothes, and unclean spirits falling down before Him in involuntary confession of His being the Son of God. But though His pity would not refuse to heal any who came, He still sought to avoid the offence of too great notoriety, by requiring secrecy. His gentle and unostentatious progress was in such ^dvid con- trast to the noisy and disputatious ways of the Rabbis, that St. Matthew saw in it a fulfilment of the Messianic visions of Isaiah, for He did not strive, nor cry aloud, nor was His 110 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP. xxxTx. voice heard in the streets, and in His tender gentleness He would not break a bruised reed, or quench even the smoking ! Isaiah42.1— 3. flaX." The Gospels do not enable us to follow any chronological sequence in the incidents recorded by them, of these months of our Lord's ministry, but it must have been about this time, perhaps on His return to Capernaum, from this mis- sion, that we must date one of the most interesting of their 1 Mnu.8.i>-i3. narratives.^ He had scarcely reached home, after His cir- cuit, when a deputation of " the elders of the Jews " waited on Him. They were the foremost men in the Capernaum community — the governing body of the synagogue, and, as such, the Jewish magistrates of the town. It is the habit in the East to send such embassies when any request is to be made or in\'itation given with circumstances of special « undand Tcspcct,* but thcfc was a feature in this case that made it very unusual. The members of the deputation, though Jewish ecclesiastical officials, came as the representatives of a heathen, possibly of a Samaritan. Lj'ing on the edge of his territory, Herod Antipas kept a small garrison in Caper- naum, and this, at that time, was under command of a centurion, who, like many of the better heathen of the day, had been drawn towards Judaism by its favourable contrast with idolatr}'. He had shown his sj-mpathy with the nation, and his generous spirit, in a way then not uncommon among »iiiacauedrt« the Wealthy, by building a sjoiagogue^ in the town — j^er- a'^'^rentV"'' ^^V^ ^^at of wliich tliB massive ruins still remain.'' One of wasui'^Liy his slaves had been struck with a paralytic affection, and « iCrer,324. ^^ ^^^^ sinking ; and with a tenderness that did him infinite honour in an age, when a slave, "n^ith many masters, and even in the eye of the Roman law," was treated as a mere chattel, he prayed Jesus, through the Jewish elders,^ to heal him. Their request was at once comphed with, and Jesus forthwith set out with them to the centurion's quarters. But the zeal of the messengers had outrun their commis- sion, for, as Jesus approached the house, a second deputation met Him, to deprecate His being put to so much trouble, and to apologize, by an humble expression of the centurion's sense of his unworthiness of the honour of such an One THE CENTUEIOn's SLAVE. Ill coming under his roof. He, liimself, appears to have fol- c!h.\p, xs: lowed, as if it had been too great a liberty to approach Jesus except at the distance of two mediations. "Lord," said he, " trouble not Thyself; for I am not worthy that Thou shouldest enter under my roof. Wherefoi'e, neither thought I myself worthy to come to Thee ; but say in a word, and my servant shall be healed. For I, also, am a man set under authority (and render obedience to my superiors), and have soldiers under me, and I say to this one, Go, and he goes ; to another, Come, and he comes ; and to my servant. Do this, and he does it. If, therefore, You indicate Your plea- sure only by a word, the demons who cause diseases wiU at once obey You and leave the sick man, for they are under Your authority'' as my servants are under mine." Faith so clear, undoubting, and humble, had never before cheered the heait of Jesus, even fi-om a Jew, and, coming as it did from the lips of a heathen, it seemed the first-fruits of a vast harvest, outside the limits of the Ancient People. He had found a welcome in Samaria when rejected in Judea; and now it was from a heathen He received this lowly homage. The clouds that had lain over the world through the jsast seemed to break away, and a new earth spread itself out before His soul. The kingdom of God, rejected by Israel, would be welcomed by the despised Gentile nations. " Yerily," said He, " I teU you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel. And I say unto you that many shall come fi'om the east and the west, and lie down at the table of God in the kingdom of the Jlessiah, as honoured guests, with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, while the Jew, who pi-ided himself on being, by birth, the child of the heavenly kingdom, and despised all others, as doomed to sit in the darkness outside the banquet haU of the ]\Iessiah, will have to change places with them ! " To His hearers such language would sj^eak with a force to be measured only by their fierce pride and intolerance. To share a gi'and banquet with the patriarchs in the Messianic kingdom, Avas a favourite mode with the Jews of picturing the blessedness that kingdom would bring. " In the future world," they made God say, in one of their Rabbinical lessons, " I shall spread for you Jews a 112 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. cHAP^xxxix. grgfit table, which the Gentiles will see and be ashamed." ^ ' sS'Sn" But now the rejection and despair are to be theirs !. The contrast betAveen Jesus and the Rabbis was daily becoming more marked, for now He adds to all else a gi*and vision of a universal religion, and of a kingdom of the Messiah, no longer national, but sending a welcome to all humanity who will submit to its laws. " Go thy way," added He, to the centurion, " and as thou hast believed, so be it done to thee." And his slave was healed in that very hour. He had apparently left Capernaum the same day, for we find Him, the next, at a village called Nain, twenty-five miles to the south-west, on the northern slope of " Little Hermon, a clump of hills at the eastern end of the great plain of Esdraelon. It was still the early and popular time of His ministry, and crowds followed Him wherever He appeared. Nain, which is now a poor and miserable hamlet, inhabited only by a few fanatical Mahometans, may then have deserved its name — the beautiful. The only antiquities about it are some tombs hewn in the hills, seen as you approach, beside the road, which winds up, to the village. The pi-esence of the Prince of Life, with a throng of disciples and followers, might well have banished thoughts of sadness, but shadows everywhere lie side by side with the light. As He came near, another procession met Him, descending from Nain, the dismal sounds rising from it, even at a distance, telling too plainly what it was. Death had been busy under these blue summer skies, and its prey was now being borne, amidst the wail of the mourner, to its last resting-place. A colder heart than that of Jesus Avould have been touched, for it was a case so sad that the Avhole town had poured forth to show its sympathy Avith the broken heart that folloAved next the bier.*^ It was the funeral of a young man, the only son of a AvidoAv, now left in that saddest of all positions to a Jew — to mourn alone in the deso- lated home in Avhich he had died, doubtless only a very few hours before.® Moved with the pity at all times an instinct Avith Him, Jesus could not let the train sweep on. It was not meet that death should reap its triumph in His RAISING THE WIDOW's SON. ' 113 presence. Stepping towards the poor mother, He dried up the chap, xxxix. fountain of her tears by a soft appeah " Weep not," said He, and then moved to the bier, careless of the defilement which would have made a Rabbi pass as far as He could from the dead. Touching it, those who bore the body at once stood still. It was, doubtless, a mere open frame, like that still used for such purposes in Palestine. "Young man," said He, " I say unto thee, Arise." It was enough. " He that was dead sat up and began to speak. And He delivered him to his mother." It was at Shunem, now Solani,^ a village on the other side 8 smith-sBiwe of the very hill on which Nain stood, that Elisha had raised """"^'^• the only son of the lady who had hospitably entertained him; and the luxuriant plain of Jezreel, stretching out beneath, had been the scene of the greatest events in the life of Elijah, who had raised to life the son of the widow in the Phenician village of Sarepta, on the far northern coast. No prouder sign of their greatness as prophets had lingered in the mind of the nation than such triumphs over the grave, and in no place could such associations have been more rife than in the very scene of the life of both. At the sight of the young man once more alive, the memory of Elijah and Elisha was on every lip, and cries rose on all sides that a great prophet had again risen, and that God had visited His people. Nor did the report confine itself to these upland regions. It flew far and near to Judea in the south, and even to the remote Perea. For now, six months; it maybe for more than ayear,^ the Baptist — the one man hithei'to recognized, in these days, as a prophet, had lain a prisoner in the dungeons of Machaerus — doubtless, in hourly expectation of death — a man, young in years, but wasted with his own fiery zeal, and now by the shadows of his prison-house. But Antlpas had not yet determined what to do with him. Shielding him from the fuiy of Herodias, and yet dreading to let him go free,^ he still suffered him, as Felix permitted Paul long » Acts 24. 28. afterwards, at Ctesarea, to receive visits from his disciples, as if almost ashamed to confine one so blameless. The rumours of Christ's doings had thus, all along, reached the VOL. II. 47 114 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP. xssis. lofty castle where he lay, and, cloul)tk'SS, were the one f^reat subject of his thought and conversation. As a Jew, he had clung to Jewish ideas of the Messiah, expecting, apparently, a national movement which would establish a pure theo- cracy, under Jesus. Why had He left him to languish in prison? Why had He not used His supernatural powers to advance the kingdom of God ? To solve such questions, which could not be repressed, two of his disciples were deputed to visit Jesus, and learn from Himself whether He was, indeed, the Messiah, or whether the nation should still look for another? From first to last, more than sixty claimants of the title were to rise. John might well wonder if the past were not a dream, and Jesus only a herald like liimsclf. He had everything to depress him. A child of the desert, accustomed to its wild freedom, he was now caged in a dismal fortress, with no outlook except black lava-crags, and deep gorges, ya-\vn- ing in seemingly bottomless depths. Burning with zeal, he found himself set aside as if forgotten of God, or of no use in His kingdom. Even the people appeared to have forgotten him, for their fickle applause had begun to lessen, even before his imprisonment. His work seemed to have been without results; a momentary excitement Avhich had already died away. He could not hope for visits from Jesus which could only have given a second prisoner to Machaerus — " the Black Castle." The reaction from the sense of boundless liberty in the desert to the forced inaction and close Avails of a prison, and from the stir and enthusiasm of the great assemblies at the fords of the Jordan, affected even the strong and firm soul of the hero, as similar influences have afifected even the bravest heai-ts since his day. Moses and Elijah had had their times of profound despondency, and it was no wonder that a passing cloud threw its shadow even over the Baptist. The answer of Jesus was full of calm dignity. Isaiah, the special favourite of John, had given the marks, ages before, by which the Messiah should be known, and these Jesus proceeded at once to display to the disciples sent from ]\Iachaerus. Amonfj the crowds around Him, there were PKAISE OF THE BAPTIST. 115 alwa}'s many who had been attracted by the hope of a "hap. xxxix. miraculous cure of their diseases or infirmities, and these He forthwith summoned to His j^resence, and healed. John would understand the significance of such an answer, and it left undisturbed the delicacy which shrank from verbal self- assertion. His acts, and, doubtless, the words that accom- panied them, were left to speak for Him. It was enough that He should refer them to Isaiah, and to what they had seen. " Go your way, and tell John what you have seen and heard. The blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the Gospel preached to them.""° " Tell him, moreover, w isaiahss.s; that I know how he is tempted; but let him comfort himself ^'^'^-JIjIzJs: mth the thought that he who holds fast his faith in spite of all fiery trials, and does not reject the kingdom of God because of its small beginnings, and stiU, spiritual gentleness, so different from the worldly power and glory expected, already has the blessings it is sent to bring."^^ " Ewaw, T.431 The messengers had hardly departed, when His full heart broke out into a eulogy on John, tender, lofty, and fervent. " It was no weak and wavering man," said He, " bending this way and that, like the tall Jordan reeds,'' that ye went out in bands to the desert banks of the Jordan to see ! No soft and silken man, tricked out in splendid dress, and hving on dainty fare, like the glittering courtiers at Tiberias ! John was a prophet of God — aye, the last and the greatest of pro- phets, for he was sent as the herald to prepai-e the way for Me, the Messiah ! I tell you, among all that have been born of women, a greater and more honoured than John the Baptist has not risen ! " Passing from this tender tribute, which He had already paid to His great forerunner, even before the authorities at Jerusalem, ^^ He proceeded, as was meet, to point out the '^ John 5. 35. gi-eater privileges enjoyed by His hearers, than even by one so famous. "He was great indeed in the surpassing dignity of his office, as the herald of the Kingdom ; yet one far less,' but still a member of that Kingdom, which is now set up amons: vou, is neater in the honour of his citizenship^^ than 13 Lightfoot, a. he, for he stood outside. But he did a mighty work ; he Meyer, .n toe. 116 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP, xxxis. roused the land to a grand earnestness for the kingdom of the Messiah, and they Avho were thus stirred by him, are those now being received into it. The prophets and the Law only prophesied of my coming : John announced Me as having come. Believe Me, he was the Elias who was to appear. "'' To a Jewish audience, no honour could be so great as this, for Elijah Avas the greatest of all the prophets. " Elijah appeared," says the son of Sirach, " a prophet like fire, and his words burned like a torch. He brought doAvn famine on Israel, and by his stormy zeal, he took it away. Through the Word of the Lord he shut up the heavens, and thrice brought down fire from them. 0 ! Iioav wert thou magni- fied, 0 Elijah, by thy mighty deeds, and who can boast that he is thine equal ! He raised the dead to life, and brought them from the under Avorld by the word of the Highest. He cast kings to destruction, and the noble from their seats. He received power to punish, on Sinai, and judgments on Horeb. He anointed kings to revenge guilt, and prophets to be his successoi's. He was carried up in a flaming storm, in a chariot with horses of fire; he is appointed for the coiTection of times to come, to abate God's wrath before judgment be let loose, to turn the heart of the father to the sons, and to restore the tribes of Jacob. It is well for » Ecdestasttoos thosc who shall behold thee ! "^* All the majesty of the pro- phetic office seemed incorporate in the Tishbite, and yet this did not seem enough to Jesus to express the dignity of John, for he was more than a prophet, and no greater had ever » Hansmth, i. riscu amoug all the sons of men. ^^ 4i'' Keim, The messag'e from John was only the expression of the iL 367—368. ° . wiJ^st' general feeling which, by its want of spiritual elevation, ques- tioned the Messiahship of Jesus, because He had not realized the national idea of a Jewish hero-king, at the head of a great revolt from Rome, destroj'ing the heathen, and estab- lishing the theocracy by wonders like the dividing of the Red Sea, or the thunderings of Sinai. It struck home to the heart of the Saviour, that even His Herald should have no higher or worthier conception of the true nature of the kingdom of God, — that even he, so near the light, — should SELF-EIGHTEOUS PRIDE OF THE JEWS. 117 have caught so httle of its brightness. No wonder the chap^xxxis. people, as a mass, rejected Him. How long had he taught in the towTis of Galilee, and yet how dispropoi-tionately small was the number He had really won, in spite of the throngs who had pressed with eager curiosity and wonder roimd Him, and the respect He had excited by His teachings ! His heart was bowed with sorrow. He had come to His own, and His oaati did not receive Him. Infinite love and pity for them fiUed His soul, for He was Himself a son of Israel, and would fain have led His brethren into the Xew King- dom, as the first-fruits of the nations. But thej' i-efused to let themselves be delivered from the spiritual and moral slavery under which they had long sunk. The yoke of the Romans was not their greatest misfortune. That of the dead letter, and of frozen forms and formute, which chilled every nobler aspiration, and shvit up the heart against true repentance, and practical holiness, was a far greater calamity. Even their highest ideal — the conception of the Messiah — had become a heated fantastic dream of universal dominion, apart from religious reform. A glimpse of other fields, which promised a richer harvest, had, however, lifted His spu'it to consoling thoughts, for the heathen centurion had shown the faith which was w^anting in Israel. His homage had been like the wave-olFering before God, of the first sheaf of the Gentile world ! Heathenism might be sunk in error and sin, crime and lust, and all moral confusion might reign ■widely in it ; there was more hope of repentance and a return to a better life, from heathen indifference or guilt, than from Jewish insane, self-righteous pride.-^'' k schentei, ica. The crowd of despised common people and publicans,^'' to it nattn. whom Jesus had addressed His eulogy of John, received it LvOie;.' 29-35. with delight, for the}' had themselves been baptized by the now imprisoned prophet. There were not wanting others, however, whom it greatly otFended — ^the Pharisees and Scribes present for no friendly purpose. With the instinct of monopoly, they condemned at once whatever had not come through the legitimate channels of authorized teaching. They had gone out to John, but with the foregone conclusion to hear, criticize, and reject him with supercihous contempt, CHAP. T-^TTJX. 118 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. as only fit for the vulgar. Though a priest's son, he was virtually a layman, for he had not been duly ordained. He might be good enough in His way, but he was not a Rabbi. He was almost guilty of schism, like Korah. He was not licensed by the authorities, and yet preached, as, indeed, for that matter, was the case with Jesus Himself. The bitter hostiUty both John and He had met, rose the more in the Saviour's mind at the sight of the Rabbis on the skirts of the crowd, and the sadness and indignation of His heart broke out in stern denunciation. "To what shall I liken the men of this generation ? They are like childi'en in the empty market-places, plaj^ing at marriages and mournings; some making music on the flute for the one; some acting like mourners for the other ; but neither the cheerful piping, nor the sad beating on the breast, pleasing the companion audience. John the Baptist came upholding the traditions and customs of you Rabbis ; for He fasted, and paid attention to washings, and set prayers, and enjoined these on his disciples; but you said he was too strict, and would have nothing to do with him, and that he spoke in so strange a way because He had a devil. I came eating and drinking — neither a Nazarite like John, nor requiring fasts like him ; nor avoiding the table of all but the ceremonially pure, like the Pharisees ; and you say I am too fond of eating and of ■wine, and still worse, am a friend of the publicans and sinners you despise. But the true divine Avisdom which both he and I have proclaimed is justified by those who honour and follow it, for they know its surpassing worth, though you treat it as folly! The divine wisdom of both his and my coming as we have come, is vindicated by all who humbly seek to be wise, and the folly of men is seen in their fancied wisdom." He would fain have led all to whom He had preached in His frequent journeys, into the Avays of peace. But tender though He was, He was also stern, when stolid obduracy shut its eyes on the sacred light He had brought to them. Most of His mighty works had been done, and most of His no less mighty words had been spoken, in Chorazin, Beth- saida, and Capernaum, the district which He had made His COXDEMNATION OF BIPEXITENCE. 119 home. But they had led to no general penitence. With a chap.sxxix voice of unspeakable sadness, mingled with holy wrath, He denounced such wilful perversity. "Woe unto thee, Chorazin, woe unto thee, Bethsaida, for if the mighty works I have done in you had been done even in Tyre and Sidon, the types of besotted heathenism, they would have repented long ago, in sackcloth and ashes. But I say unto you, It wiU be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon in the Day of Judgment than for you. And thou, Capernaum, exalted to heaven by my dwelling and working in you, shalt be thrust down to Hades, at the Day of Judgment ; for if the mighty works I have done in thee had been done in Sodom, it woidd have remained until this day. But I say unto you. It will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom, in the Day of Judgment, than for thee ! " It would seem as if at this point, some communication that pleased Him had been made to Jesus. Perhaps His disciples had told Him of some success obtained among the simple crowds to whom they had preached the New King- dom. Whatever it was. He broke forth on hearing it into thanksgiving : " I praise Thee, 0 Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that Thou hast hid the things of Thy Kingdom from those who are thought, and who think themselves wise, and ciualitied to judge — the Rabbis, and Priests, and Pharisees — • and hast revealed them to simple souls, unskilled in the wisdom of the schools. I thank Thee that what is well- pleasing to Thee has happened thus ! " The New Kingdom was not to rest on the theology of the schoolmen of the day, or on official authoritj', or on the sanction of a corrupt Church, or on the support of privileged classes, but upon child-like faith and humble love. It was not to spread doA\Tiwards, from among the powerful and influential, but to rise from among the weak and ignoble, the poor and lowly, who Avould receive it in love and humility. It was to spread upwards by no artificial aids, but by the attractions of its own heavenly worth alone. It was a vital condition of its nature that it should, for it can only be received in sincerity, where its unaided spiritual beauty wins the heart. 120 THE LIFE OP CHRIST, cHAP.xsxis. Among the "babes" were doubtless included the con- fessors to be won from the world at large, and not from Israel alone, for the law of growth from below upwards, is that of religious movements in all ages and countries. All reformations begin with the laity, and with the obscure. Jesus had nothing to hope but everything to fear from the privileged classes, the leai'ned guilds, the ecclesiastical author- ities, and the officials of the Church generally. It sounds startling to read of His thanking God that these all-powerful classes showed neither sjinpathy for the New Kingdom founded by Him, nor even the power of comprehending it, and that it was left to the simple and child-like minds of the common people, in their freedom fi'om prejudice, to embrace it with eagerness. It was because He saw in the fact, the divine law of all moral and religious progress. New epochs in the spiritual liistory of the world always spring like seeds, in darkness and obscurity, and only show themselves when they have already struck root in the soil. The moral and religious life, finds an unnoticed welcome in the mass of the people, when the higher ranks of lay, and even of ecclesiastical society, are morally and spiritually eflfete, unfit to introduce a reform, and bound by their interests to things IS schenkei, as thcy arc.^* The overflowing fulness of heart, which had found utter- ance in prayer, added a few sentences more, of undying interest and beauty. It might be feared that, if old guides were forsaken, those who took Him for their leader might find Him unequal to direct them aright. To dispel any such apprehension He draws aside the veil from some of the awful mysteries of His nature and His relation to the Eternal, in words which must have strangely comforted the simple souls who heard them first, and which still carry with them a spiritual support, intensified by their a^^'ful sublimity as the words of one, in outward seeming, a inan like ourselves. " All things concerning the New Kingdom are delivered unto me of my Father — its founding, its estabhshment, its spread. I am, therefore, the king and leader of the new people of God — the head of the new Theocracy, divinely commissioned to rule over it. All that I teach I have Christ's easy yoke. 121 received from my Father. I speak, in all tilings, the mind ciiap.xxkix. of God, and thus you ai'e for ever safe. 'No one knows fully what I am, and what measure of gifts I have received as Messiah, but the Father, Avho has commissioned and sent me forth — Me, His Son. Nor does any man know the Father, in His counsels for the salvation of man, as I His Son do, and those to whom I make Him known. I am the true Light, who alone can lighten men, the one true Teacher, who cannot mislead.^" « Kuinocu "Come unto me, therefore, all ye that labour and are '»'«• lieaA'y-laden with the burden of rites and traditions of men, Avhich your teachers lay on you — you, who can find no deliverance from the misery of your souls, by all these observances, and I will give your spirits rest. Cast off their heavy yoke and take mine, and learn of me, for I am not hard and haughty like your Rabbis, but meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest for your souls. For the yoke I lay on you — the law I require you to honour — is not like that which you have hitherto borne, but brings health to the spirit, and my burden is fight, for it is tlie Law of love."^" " Meyer, in Ice. Language like this, briefly expanded, for greater clearness, demands reverent thought. Who does not feel that such words could not fell from the fips of a sinful man, but only from those of one whose nature and life lay far above all human imperfection ? Who, even of the highest, or wisest, or best, of human teachers, could invite all, without excep- tion, to come to Him, with the promise that He would give them true rest for their souls ?-^ And who, iia doinsj so, «> uiimann, could speak oi it as a thing apparent to all who heard Him, g^^^^^^'^- that He was meek and lowly in heart ? Who would think cSistuI,'""^ of claiming the stately dignity of sole representative of the w'eidemann, Unseen God, and who could speak of God as His Father, in nagen, s. the same way as Jesus ? And who would dare to Unk Him- self with the Eternal in a Communion so aA\-ful and an inter- revelation so absolute ? He makes us feel that as we fisten we are face to face with the Incarnate Divine. 122 TUE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAPTER XL. DARKENING SHADOWS.— LIFE IN GALILEE. CHAP. XL, THE )-upture with the hierarchical party was not as yet so pronounced as to prevent a more or less friendly inter- course between Jesus and some of its members. An incident connected with one happened about this time. A Pharisee of the name of Simon, who seems to have been in good social position, had met with Jesus in some of the Galila'an towns, and had been so attracted by Him that he invited Him to his house, to eat with him. This was a mark of high consideration from one of a party so strict, for a Pharisee was as careful as a Brahmin is, with whom he ate. Defilement was temporary loss of caste, and neutraUzed long- continued effort to attain a higher grade of legal purity, and it lurked, in a thousand forms, behind the simplest acts of jost,i.2cii. daily life and intercourse.^ To invite one who was neither a Pharisee, nor a member of even the lowest grade of legal guilds, was amazing liberality in a Jewish precisian. It would seem as if the courtesy had already excited timid fear of having gone too far, when Jesus accepted the invitation, — and had given place to a cold patronizing condescension, which fancied it had conferred, rather than received, an honour by His presence. In the earlier ages of the nation it had been the habit to Judges 19. G. sit at meals'- on mats, with the feet crossed beneath the 6, 2°^' '"■ body, as at present in the East — round a low table — noAV, proY.23.1.' only about a foot in height. But the foreign custom of reclining on cushions, long in use among the Persians, Greeks, and Romans, had been introduced into Palestine i Amos c. 4,7. apparently as early as the days of Amos,^ and had become (c.r.B.c.< . ggj^gj.jj-^ -j^ those of Christ, Raised divans, or table couches, JEWISH FORMS OF HOSPITALITY. 123 provided with cushions and arranged on three sides of a chap, xl. square, supplied a rest for guests, and on these they lay on their left arm, with their feet at ease behind them, outside. The place of honour was at the upper end of the right side, which had no one above it, while all below could easily lean back on the bosom of the person immediately behind. Hospitality among the poor was prefaced by various cour- tesies and attentions to the guest, more or less peculiar to the nation. To enter a house except Avith bare feet was much the same as our doing so without removing the hat, and, therefore, all shoes and sandals were taken off, and left at the threshold. A kiss on the cheek, from the master of the house, with the invocation "The Lord be with you," conveyed a formal Avelcome, and w^as followed, on the guest taking his place on the couch, by a servant bringing water and washing the feet, to cool and refresh them, as well as to remove the dust of the road and give ceremonial cleanness. The host himself, or one of his servants, next anointed the head and beard of the guests with fragrant oil, attention to the hair being a great point with Orientals. Before eating, water was again brought to wash the hands, as the require- ments of legal purity demanded, and from the fact that the food w^as taken by dipping tlie fingers, or a piece of bread, into a common dish. " To Avash the hands before a meal," says the Talmud, " is a command ; to do so during eating is left matter of choice, but, to wash them after it, is a tlUty. 1 Tract. Cholia With all Jews, but especially with scrupulous formalists L^eT.so-so. like the Pharisees, religious observances formed a marked feature in every entertainment, however humble, and, as these were duly prescribed by the Rabbis, we are able to picture a meal like that given to Jesus by Simon.* Houses in the East are far from enjoying the privacy we prize so highly. Even at this time, strangers pass in and out at their pleasure, to see the guests, and join in conver- sation with them and Avith the host.^ Among those who did so, in Simon's house, was one at whose presence in his dwelling, under any circumstances, he must have been equally astonished and disturbed. Silently gliding into the 124 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. cH^sx. chamber, perhaps to the seat round the. wall, came a woman, though women could not with proprietj' make their appear- ance at such entertainments. She was, moreover, unveUed, whicli, in itself was contrary to recognized rules. In the little town every one was known, and Simon saw, at the first glance, that she was no other than one known to the com- munity as a poor fallen woman. She was e'S'idently in dis- tress, but he had no eyes or heart for such a consideration. She had compromised his respectability, and his frigid self- righteousness could think only of itself. To eat with publi- cans or sinners was the sum of aU evils to a Pharisee. It was the approach of one under moral quarantine, whose ver}' neighbourhood was disastrous, and yet, here she was, in his o\\Ti house. A tenderer heart than his, however, knew the deeper aspects of her case, and Aveleomed her approach. She had listened to the words of Jesus, perhaps to His invitation to the weary and heavy-laden to come to Him for rest, and was bowed down with penitent shame and contrition, which were the promise of a new and purer life. Lost, till now, to self-respect, an outcast for whom no one cared, she had found in Him that there was a friend of sinners, who beckoned even the most hopeless to take shelter bj- His side. In Him and His words hope had returned, and in His re- spect for her womanhood, though fallen, quickening self- respect had been once more awakened in her bosom. She might yet be saved from her degradation ; might vet retrace her steps from pollution and sorrow, to a pure life and peace of mind. AMiat could she do but seek the presence of One who had won her back from ruin ? ^Tiat could she do but express her lowly gratitude for the sympathy He alone had shown ; the belief in the possibihty of her restora- tion that had itself restored her ! The object of her A-isit was not, howevei-, long a mvsterw Kneeling down behind Jesus, she proceeded to anoint His feet with fragrant ointment, but as she was about to do so, her tears fell on them so fast that she was fain to wipe them with her long hair, which, in her distress, had escaped its fastenings. To anoint the head was the usual course, but JESUS AT THE PHAKISEe's HOUSE. 125 she would not venture on such an honour, and would only make bold to anoint His feet. Unmindful of her disorder, which Simon coldly noted as an additional shame, she could think only of her benefactor. Weeping and wiping away the tears, and covering the feet with kisses," her heart gave itself vent tUl it was calmed enough to let her anoint them, and, meanwhile, Jesus left her to her lowly, loving will. The Pharisee was horrified. That a Rabbi should allow such a woman, or, indeed, any woman, to approach him, was contrary to all the traditions, but it was incredibly worse in one whom the people regarded as a prophet. He would not speak aloud, but his looks showed his thoughts. " This man, if He were a prophet, would have known what kind of woman this is that touches Him, for she is a sinner." Jesus saw what was passing in his mind, and turning to him, requested an answer to a question. " There wiis a certain creditor,"' said He, " who had two debtors. The one owed him five hundred pence, the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me, therefore, which of them will love him most ? " Utterly unconscious of the bearing of these words on him- self, the Pharisee readily answered that he supposed he to whom the creditor forgave most, Avould love him most. ''Thou hast rightly judged," replied Jesus. Then like Nathan with DaAid, He proceeded to bring the parable home to his conscience. Turning to the weeping, penitent woman at His feet, and pointing to her, He continued, " Simon, seest thou this woman ? I entered into thine house ; thou gavest me no water for my feet, as even courtesy demanded ; but she has washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with her hair. Thou gavest me no kiss ; but this woman, since the time I entered, has not ceased to kiss my feet tenderly. Thou didst not anoint my head with oil ; but she has anointed my feet with ointment. I say unto thee, therefore, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much, but one to whom little is forgiven, loves little. " Then addressing the sobbing woman herself. He told her, " Thy sins are for- given. Thy faith has saved thee : go in peace ! " 126 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. cHAP^sx. Tliat'He should claim to forgive sins had already raised a charge of blaspheui}- against Him, and it did not pass un- noticed now. But the time had not yet come for open hostiUty, and His words, in the meanwhile, were only trea- sured up to be used against Him hereafter. = ch»p.8.i5. ^ e are indebted to a notice in St. Luke^ for a glimpse of the mode of life of Jesus in these months. He seems to have spent them in successive circuits, from Capernaum as a centre, through all the towns and ^•illages of Galilee, very much as the Rabbis were accustomed to do over the country at large. In these journeys He was attended by the Twelve, and by a group of loving women, attracted to Him by re- lationship, or by His ha-sing healed them of various diseases ; who provided, in part, at least, for His wants, and those of His followers. That He was not alisolutelv poor, in the sense of suffering from want, is implied in His recognition as a Rabbi, and even as a prophet, which secured Him hos- pitality and welcome, as an act of supreme religious merit, wherever He went. To entertain a Rabbi was to secure the « Gfrurer, i. i«. favour of God, and it was coveted as a special honour.^ Thus, though He had no home He could call His own. He would never want ready welcome in the homes of others wherever He went, so long as popular prejudice was not wuhnij.i. excited against Him. The cottage of Lazai'us at Bethany'^ was only one of many that opened its doors to Him, and He could even reckon on a cheerful reception so confidently, e Lake 10. 5. as to iuvitc Himsclf to houses like that of Zaccheus,^ or that of him in whose upper room He instituted the Last Supper. Many disciples, or persons favourably inchned, were scat- tered over the land."^ The simplicity of Eastern life favoured such kindly relations, and hence His personal support would be freely supplied, excejit in desert j)arts, or when He was journeying through Samai-ia, or distant places on the fron- 9 Matt. 14. 17. tiei's of Galilee.^ The willina; eifts of friends, throwii into John 4. 8. . a common fund, supplied so fully all that was needed in such cases, that there was always a surplus from which •• John 12. 5; even to give to the poor.^** Hise-a Leben The uamcs of somc of tlic STOup of womcu who thvis Jesa,136. >- ^ ma^hi's attended Jesus have been handed down as a fitting tribute Leben Jesn^ 191. SIARY MAGDALENE. 127 to their devotion, while those of the men who followed Him, chap. sx. with the exception of the twelve apostles, ai-e lost. The religious enthusiasm of the age, always seen most in the gentler sex, had already spread among all Jewish women, for the Pharisees found them theii' most eai'nest supporters. ^^ » jos. Ant. xvu. 2. 4; iviiL I. It was only natural, therefore, that Jesus should attract a 3;3du.io.6.' similar devotion. His purity of soul, His reverend courtesy to the sex. His championship of their equal dignity with man, before God, and His demand for supreme zeal in all, in the spread of the Xew Ivingdom, drew them after Him But so accustomed were all classes to such attendance on their own Rabbis, that even the enemies of Jesus found no ground for censure in their ministrations. Of these earUest mothers of the Church, five are named. Mary, or ^Miriam, of the town of ]\Iagdala, from whom Jesus had cast seven devils ; Johanna, the wife, not the widow, of Chuoza, a high official in the palace of Herod Antipas, at Tiberias ; Susanna, of Avhom only the name is known ; jMary, the mother of James the Less and cf Joses, and wife of Klopas ; and Schelamith, or Salome, mother of James and John, and wife of Zebedee or Zabdai, perhaps, also, the sister of Mary, the mother of Jesus, i- as Mary, the wife of Klopas, i^ johnis) «. is also thought by many to have been. Of the other three, wmer.krt: , , ' "Salome." whom Jesus had cured of various diseases, a surjiassing Ha^buchd interest attaches to Mary Magdalene, from her unfounded ^'•■'^^'- '"''''• identification -nith the fallen penitent w^ho did Jesus honour in the house of the Pharisee Simon. There is nothing whatever to connect her with that narrative, for it confounds what the New Testament distinguishes by the clearest language, to think of her having led a sinful life from the fact of her having suftered from demoniacal possession. Never, perhaps, has a figment so utterly baseless obtained so wide an acceptance as that which we connect with her name.^^ But it is hopeless to try to explode it, for the word "^ smith-sDicty has passed into the vocabularies of Europe as a synonym of ^lagdaieae." penitent frailty. ^lary appears to have belonged to the village of ]\Iagdala, or Migdol — the Towei* — about three miles north of Tiberias, on the water's edge, at the south-east corner of the plain of dala," 128 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. Gennesareth. It is now represented by the few wretched hovels which form the ^lohammedan village of El-Mejdel, with a solitary thorn-bush beside it, as the last trace of the rich groves and orchards, amidst Avhich it was, doubtless, embowered, in the days of our Lord. A high limestone rock, full of caves, overhangs it on the south-west, and beneath this, out of a deep ravine at the back of the pliiin, a clear stream rushes past to the sea, which it enters through a tangled thicket of thorn, and willows, and oleanders, covered in their season with clouds of varied blossoms. Who ]\Iary was, or what, no one can tell, but legend, with a cruel injustice, has associated her name for ever with the spot now sacred to her, as the lost one reclaimed by Jesus.^* ■rlVrf The circle which thus attended Him on His iourneys was Lex., Smiths •' . *' nlrzog*"'* peculiar, above all things, m an age of intense ritualism, by its slight care for the external observances and mortifications, which formed the sum of religion with so many. This simplicity was made the gi-eat accusation against Jesus, as, in after times, the absence of sacrifices and temples led the ^MinncF, heathcuto charge Christianity with atheisin.^^ Even the ootav. 10.8. jj-jj^jj^j-Qjy yI^q Qf baptism had fallen into abeyance, and fasting, and the established rules for prayer and ceremonial purifications were so neglected, as to cause remark and anim- s Matt. 9. 14; adversion.^" There is, indeed, great reason for the belief l'» 1- 15. 1. ' o Luke 5. 33.' of some, that Jesus and His followers differed, alike in dress, demeanour, mode of life, and customs, from the teachers of ■ Keim,ii.28i. tlic day and their followers.^" The simple tunic and upper garment may have had the Tallith worn by all other Jews, but we may be certain that the tassels at its corners were in 8 Matt 23. 5. contrast to the huge, ostentatious size ^® aifected by the Rabbis. Nor can we imagine that either Jesus, or the Twelve, sanctioned by their use the superstitious leathern phylacteries" which others bound, with long fillets, on their left arm and their forehead, at prayers. The countless rules, then, as now, in force for the length of the straps, for the size of the leather cells to hold the prescribed texts — for their shape, manufacture, &c., and even for the exact mode of winding the straps round the arm, or tying them on the FAMILY LITE OF JESUS. 129 forehead — marked too strongly the cokl, mechanical concep- tions of prayer then prevailing, to let us imagine that our Lord or the disciples wore them. There was no such neglect of His person as many of His contemporaries thought identical with holiness, for He did not dechne the anointing of His head or beard, or the washing of His feet, at each resting-place.^^ Nor did He require ascetic restrictions at table, for we find Him permitting the use of wine, bread, and honey,^ and of fish, flesh, and fowl.-" In Peter's house He invited others to eat with Him, and He readily accepted invitations, Avith all the customary refinements of the kiss of salutation, and foot-washing, and anointing even with the costliest perfume.^^ The Pharisee atoned for his occasional entertainments by fasting on ]\Iondays and Thursdays, but Jesus exposed Himself to the charge of indulgence, because He never j^ractised even such intermittent austerities.^^ Expense was, however, the exception and not the rule, for He praised the Baptist for having nothing costly or effeminate in his dress, and He enjoined the strictest moderation, both in dress and living,-^ on His disciples. It is the great characteristic of Jesus that He elevated the common details of life to the loftiest uses, and ennobled even the familiar and simple. In His company, the evening meal, when not forgotten in the press of overwhelming labours, was an opportunity always gladly embraced for informal instruction, not only to the TavcIvc, but to the many strangers whom the easy manners of the East permitted to gather in the apartment.-* After evening devotions, the family group invited the familiar and unconstrained exchange of thought, in which Jesus so much delighted. As the Father and Head of the circle, He would, doubtless, use the form of thanks and of blessing hallowed by the custom of His nation, opening the meal by the bread and wine passed round to be tasted by each, after acknowledgment of the bounty of God and His gifts. Then would follow a word to all, in turn : the story of the day, and each one's share in it, would be reviewed with tender blame, or praise, or counsel ; and the faith, and hope, and love of all would be refreshed by their very meeting round the table. How dear these hours of VOL. II. 48 ' Matt. 6. IS; 26. 8. Luke 7. 4 1 ' Matt. 11.19; 7.10; 10.29; 14. 17. Luke 24. 42. John 21. 13. Base's Leben Jesu, 139. 21 Matt. 8. 15; 9. 10; 26. 6. Luke 7. 36 ; 10.40; 11.37 14.1. Mark 14. 3. -2 Matt 11. 8 ; 8. 20 ; 10. 9. Compare Philipp. 4. 12. Matt. 9. 19. Luke 22 14; 20. 14, 28, t. ISO THE LIFE OF CHRIST. a Lake 22. 35. Matt. 10. 9; 17. 27 ; 26. 9. Jolin 13. 29. Schleier- macher's Leben Jesu, quiet home life were to Jesus Himself, is seen in the tender- ness with which He saw, in the group they brought around Him, His " children," — as if they replaced in His heart the household affections of the family; and in the pain, and ahnost womanly fondness, with which He hesitated to pro- nounce His last farewell to them. To the chsciples themselves, they grew to he an imperishable memory, which they were fain, in compliance with their ]\Iaster's wish, to perpetuate daily, in their breaking of bread. The greatness and conde- scension, the loving familiarity and fond endearments of close intercourse, the peace and quiet after the strife of the day, the feeling of security under His eye and care, made these hours a recollection that grew brighter and more sacred with the lapse of years, and deepened the longing for His return, or for their departure to be Avith Him. In this deUghtful family life there was, however, nothing like communism, for there is not a trace of the property of each being thrown into a common fund. His disciples had, indeed, left all; but they had not sold it, to help the general treasury.-^ Some of them still retained funds of their own,-'' and the women who accompanied them still kept their pro- perty."^'' When Jesus paid the Temple tax for Himself, He did not think of doing so for His disciples as well. It was left to them to pay for themselves. The simple wants of each day were provided by free contributions, when not proffered by hospitality, nor did He receive even these from His disciples, though Rabbis were permitted to accept a honorarium from their scholars. "Ye have received for nothing" said He, " give for nothing." ^* He took no gifts of money from the people, nor did He let His disciples collect alms, as the Rabbis did their scholars. The only bounty He accepted was the hospitaUty and shelter always ready for Him in friendly Galilee. From the generous women who followed Him, He, indeed, accepted passing suj^port, but, in contrast to the greed of the Rabbis, He only used their liberahty for the need of the moment. His little circle was never allowed to suffer want, but was always able to distribute charity, and, though He seems to have carried no money. He expressly distinguishes both Himself and His disciples from the poor.'^^ Matt. 16. 6; 18. 1; 20. 2i Mark 10. 32, JESTJS AMONG HIS DISCIPLES. 131 His presence among His disciples was seldom, even for a chap, xi. brief interval, interrupted. He might be summoned to heal some sick person, or invited to some meal ; or He might wish to be alone, for a time, in His chamber or among the hills, while He prayed, but these were only absences of a few hours. It would seem as if the kiss of salutation in such cases greeted His return. ^^ He gave the word for setting out " Matt.2e.«. on a journey, or for going by boat, and the disciples pro- cured what was needed by the way, if by land, and pUed the oar, if on the Lake.^^ " f^^ff;^^' He always travelled on foot, and was often thankful for a draught of water, as He toiled along the hot sides of the white hills, or for a piece of bi'ead, procured in some village throuo;h which He passed.^- Sometimes He went with His " watj. lo «. O I Mark 6. 36. disciples, sometimes before them ; leaving them to their OAvn conversation, but noting and reproving, at once, their mis- understandings, or momentary misconceptions.^^ " iT"' When a resting-place had to be found for the night, He Avas wont to send on some of His disciples before, or He awaited an invitation on His arrival ; His disciples sharing the protfered hospitaUty, or distributing themselves in other houses.^* The entertainment must have varied in different " Lake "'52. dAveUings, from the simplicity of the prophet's chamber '*»"•"•"• where the Shunamite had provided a bed, a table, a stool, and a lamp, to the friendship, and busy womanly ministra- tions, and homage of loAvly discipleship, of homes like the cottage of Bethany. "Where He Avas welcomed, He entered Avith the invocation, " Peace be to this house " — but, unhke the Pharisees — Avithout asking any questions as to the IcAdtical cleanness of the house, or its tables, or benches, or vessels.®^ It was very rarely, one would suppose, that He " Matiio.n.H. Avas not gladly received, but Avhen at any time He met inhospitality. He only Avent on to the next village. Some- times He bore His rejection silently, but at others, moved at their hardness. He shook the very dust of the toAvn from His feet on leaAdng it, as a protest. WTien meekness could be shown he shoAved it, but Avhere the circumstances demanded, He was as stern as commonly He Avas gentle.^*^ " fs^'^ise It is not easy to reahze the daily life of one so different 132 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. OHAP. XL. from ourselves as Jesus, but a fine poetical mind has imagined the scene of the healing of Mary Magdalene, and the appearance and acts of Christ so finely, that I borrow Deiitzsch, some passages from his pen.^'' EinTag, &c, 1 O 1 i l • T /> 120 ff. Xhe landing-place at Capernaum was at the south side of the town. Thither the boats came that brought over wood from the forests of Gaulonitis, and thither the boat steered that bore Jesus, His four earliest disciples acting as boatmen. He had been on the other side of the Lake, and had returned now, in the evening. The sun was just setting, but a few beams seemed to have lingered to die away on His face, and the full moon rose, as if to see Him from behind the brown hills still bathed in purple. The soft evening wind had risen to cool His brow, and the waters, sparkhng in the moonlight, rose and fell round the boat, and gently rocked it. As it touched the shore there were few people about, but a boat from ]\Iagdalalay near, with a sick person in it, whom it had taken her mother's utmost strength to hold, and keep from uttering loud cries of distress. She had been brought in the hope of finding Jesus, that He might cure her. "Master," said John, "there is work yonder for you already." " I must always be doing the work of Him that sent me," replied Jesus ; " the night cometh when no man can work." The mother of the sick woman had recognized Him at the first glance, for no one could mistake Him, and forth- with cried out with a heart-rending voice, " 0 Jesus, our helper and teacher, Thou messenger of the All-Merciful, help my poor child, — for the Holy One, blessed be His name, has heard my prayer that we should find Thee, and Thou us." Peter forthwith, with the help of the other two, who had let their oars rest idly on the water, turned the boat, so that it lay alongside the one from Magdala. Jesus now rose ; the mother sank on her knees ; but the sick woman tried with all her might to break away, and to throw herself into the water, on the far side of the boat. The boatman, however, and John, who had sprung over, held her by the arms, while her mother buried her face in the long plaited hair of her child. Her tears had ceased to flow ; she was lost in silent prayer. "Where are these people from?" asked Jesus of the MARY MAGDAIJ3NE. 133 boatman, and added, to His disciples, when he heard that chap.xl. she came from Magdala, " Woe to this ]\Iagdala, for it will become a ruin for its wickedness ! The rich gifts it sends to Jerusalem will not help it, for, as the prophet says, ' They are bought with the wages of uncleanness, and to that they will again return.'" ^^ " Turn her face to me that I may see " Micahi.;. her," added He. It was not easy to do this, for the sick one held her face, bent over, as far as possible, towards the water. John managed it, however, by kind words. " Mary," said he, for he had asked her mother her name, " do you wish to be for ever under the power of demons ? See, the conqueror of demons is before thee, look on Him, that you may be healed. We are all praying for you, as Moses, peace be to him, once prayed for his sister, — ' 0 God, heal her.' Do not put our prayer to shame ; now is the moment when you can make yourself and your mother happy." These words told ; and no longer opposing strength to strength, she let them raise her head, and turn her face to Jesus. But when she saw Him, her whole body was so violently convulsed, that the boat swayed to and fro, and she shrieked out the most piercing wails, which sounded far over the Lake. Jesus, however, fixed His eyes on hers, and kept them from turning away, and as He gazed. His look seemed to enter her soul, and break the sevenfold chain m which it lay bound.s The poor raving creature now became quiet and did not need to be held ; her convulsions ceased, the contor- tions of her features, and the wildness of her eyes, passed off, and profuse sweat burst from her brow, and mingled with her tears. Her mother stepped back, and the healed one sank down on the spot Avhere her mother had been praying, and muttered, with subdued trembling words, to Jesus, — " 0 Lord, I am a great sinner ; is the door of repentance still open for me?" " Be comforted, my daughter," answered He, " God has no pleasure in the death of the wicked ; thou hast been a habitation of evil spirits, become now a temple of the living God." The mother, unable to restrain herself, broke out — " Thanks to Thee, Thou Consolation of Israel," but He went on, — " Return now, quick!}', to Magdala, and be calm, and give thanks to God in silence." John stepped 134 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP. XL. back into the boat to Jesus, and the other boat shot out into the Lake, on the way home. The two women sat on the middle seat. Mavy hekl her mother in her arms in grateful thanks, and neither spoke, but both kept their eyes fixed on Jesus, till the shore, jutting out westwards, hid Him from their sight. When the boat with the women was gone, Peter bound his to the post to which the other had been tied, but Jesus sat still in deep thought, Avithout looking round, and the disciples remained motionless beside Him, for reverence forbade them to ask Him to go ashore. Meanwhile, the people of Capernaum, men, women, and children, streamed down in bands ; some soldiers of the Roman-Herodian gar- rison, and some strange faces from Perea, Decapolis, and Syria, among them. The open space had tilled, and now Peter ventured to whisper, in a low voice which concealed his impatience, " Martinu we Rabbinu- — Our Lord and Master — the people have assembled and wait for Thee." On this Jesus rose. Peter made a bridge from the boat to the shore with a plank, hastening across to make it secure, and to open the way; for the crowd was very dense at the edge of the water. Christ now left the boat, followed by the three other disciples, and, when He had stepped ashore, said to Peter, — " Schim'on Kefa " — for thus He addressed him when He had need of his faithful and zealous service in the things of the kingdom of God — " I shall take my stand under the palm-tree yonder." It was hard, however, to make way through the crowd, for those who had set themselves nearest the water were mostly sick people, to whom the others, from compassion, had given the front j^lace. Lideed, Jesus had scarcely landed, before cries for help rose, in different dialects, and in every form of appeal. "Rabbi, Rabboni," "Holy One of the Most High !" "Son of David !" " Son of God ! " mingled one with the other. Jesus, however, waving them back with His hand, said, " Let me pass ! to- night is not to be for the healing of your bodily troubles, but that you may hear the word of life, for the good of your souls." On hearing this they pressed towards Him, A DISCOURSE OF JESUS. 135 that they might at least touch Him. "When, at List, -with chap, xl. the help of His disciples, He made His Avay to the palm, He motioned to the people to sit down on the grass. The knoll fi"om which the palm rose was only a slight one, but when the crowd had sat down in roAVS, it sufficed to raise Him sufficiently above them. The men sat on the ground, leaving any better spots for the women and children. It is a mistake to think of Jesus standing while He taught. He stood in the s}Tiagogue at Nazareth while the Prophets were being read, but He sat down to teach. He sat as He taught in the Temple, and when He addressed the multi- tude whom He had miraculously fed; and when He spoke from Simon Peter's boat, he did so sitting. Under the palm lay a large stone, on which many had sat before, to enjoy the ^dew over the Lake, or the shade of the branches above. The Rabbis often chose such open air spots for their addresses. There was nothing extraordinary, therefore, when Jesus sat down on it, and made it His pulpit. His dress was clean and carefully chosen, but simple. On His head, held in its place by a cord. He wore a white sudar, the ends of which hung down His shoulders. Over His tunic, which reached to the hands and feet, was a blue Tallith, with the prescribed tassels at the four corners, but only as large as Moses required. It was so thrown over Him, and so held together, that the grey red-striped under- garment was little seen, and His feet, which had sandals, not shoes, were only noticed occasionally, when He moved. AMien He had sat down and looked over the people, they became stiller and stiller, till nothing was heard but the soft plash of the ripple on the beach. As He sat on the stone, Simon and Andrew, the sons of Jonas, stood on His right and left hand, with James and John, the sons of Zabdai. The people stood around the slope, for as yet Rabbis were heard, standing. " Sickness came into the world," says the Talmud, "when Rabban Gamaliel died, and it became the rule to hear the Law sitting."^^ " Sons ^ ughtfoot, a of Israel, Men of Galilee," He began, " the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come : repent, and believe the Gospel. Moses, your teacher, peace be to him, has said — 136 THE LIFE OF CHEIST. CHAP. XL ' A prophetwill the Lord your God raise unto you from your brethren, like unto me. Him shall ye hear. But He who will not hear this prophet shall die ! ' Amen, I say unto you : He Avho believes on me has everlasting life. No man knows the Father but the Son, and no man knows the Son but the Father, and he to whom the Son reveals Him." Then, with a louder voice, He continued, " Come to me, all ye that labour and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." Then, drawing to a close. He added, " Take on you the yoke of the kingdom of heaven, for the kingdom of heaven is the fulfilling of the Law and the Prophets. Give up that which is worth little, that you may have what is of great price. Become wise changers who value holy money above all other, and the pearl of price above all.^ He that has ears to hear, let him hear."* THE BURSTING 01' THE STORM. 137 CHAPTER XLI. THE BURSTING OF THE STORM. THE summer passed in a succession of excitements and an unbroken recurrence of exhausting toil. Wherever Jesus appeared He was surrounded by crowds, anxious to see and to liear. The sick everyAvhere pressed in His Avay, and friends brought the bed-ridden and helpless to Him, from all quarters. From eai'ly morning tiU night, day by day, without respite, there was a strain on mind, heart, and body, alike. Even the retirement of the house in which He might be resting, could not save Him from intruding crowds, and time or free space for meals was hardly to be had. Such tension of His whole nature must have told on Him, and must have affected His whole nervous and physical system. To be continually surrounded by misery, in every form, is itself distressing ; but, in addition to this, to be kept on the strain by the higher spiritual excitement of a great religious crisis, and to be overtaxed in mere physical demands, could not fail to show results, in careworn features, feverishness of the bi-ain, and the need of tempoi-ary quiet and rest. Yet sympathy was felt for Him only by a few. The thoughtless crowds did not realize that they were consuming in the fires of its own devotion the nature they intended to honour, and His enemies, seeing everything only through the disturbing light of their hatred, invented a theory for it all that was sinister enough. The continued and increasing suj^port Jesus received from the people, was a daily growing evil in the eyes of the ecclesiastical authorities. They were in danger of losing their authority, which they identified with the interests of orthodoxy, and national favour with God. They had let 138 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. Him choose four or five disciples, Avitliont feeling alarmed, for a movement as yet so insignificant Avas almost beneath their notice. The choice of a publican as one of this handful had, indeed, apparently neutralized any possible danger, by the shock it gave to pubUc feeling. The further choice of the Twelve was, however, more serious. It seemed like consolidation, and progi-ess towards open schism. There were, already, parties in Judaism, but there were no sects, for all were alike fanatically loyal to the Law, the Temple, afid the Scribes, and ready to unite against any one who was not as much so as themselves, in their o-\vn sense. Criticism was utterly proscribed : bhnd worship of things as they were was imperatively required, and, hence, Jesus, A\dth His free examination of received opinions, provoked the bitterest hostility. As long, however, as He had no following He was little dreaded, but signs of organization and permanence, such as the choice of the Twelve, and the growing enthusiasm of the people towards Him, determined the authorities on vigorous action. Information was laid against Him at Jeru- salem, where He had already been challenged, and Rabbis •were sent dowTi to investigate the whole question. Every movement which did not rise in the Rabbinical schools was suspected by the Rabbis and their disciples, and there were circumstances in that of Jesus, which were especially formidable. The superhuman powers He displayed could not be questioned, and the Rabbis could boast of nothing as imposing. They Avere falling into the shade. Respect was gromng for Jesus among the people, in spite of them.^ His claims were daily urged more frankly, and the masses were disposed to assent to them. On His return to Capernaum He had cured a man who was blind, dumb, and mad, and possessed besides Avath a devil ; and so astounding a miracle had i-aised the question, far and wide, Avhether, in spite of their former ideas. He Avere not the Son of David^ — the Messiah,- after all. Men had, indeed, expected an out- ward political kingdom, AAdth a blaze of miracle Avrought on behalf of the nation at large, but they began to ask each other, "When the Christ cometh Avill He do more miracles than this man has done?"^ It could not be endured. The EABBmiCAL MAGIC ARTS. 139 movement of John had just been crushed, and, now, in ch.vp. xli. restless Galilee, one far more dangerous to the Jerusalem authorities was rapidly taking shape and consistence. It must be put down at any cost. The Rabbis from the capital, reverend and grey, did not know whether to be more bitter at the discredit thrown on their o-svn claims to supernatural powers, or at the popular favour shoA\ai to Jesus. He cast out de\ils, indeed, but so did they, and their disciples,-* the exorcists. It was enough ' Jf«M^i|-222|;; for Him, however, to speak, and the suflferer was cured of f:"^!,^"' all ailments alike, Avhile they used adjurations, spells, and magic formula} which were dangerously like the supersti- tions of the despised heathens. They laid stress on their knowledge of the secret names of God and the angels. To utter the cipher which stood for these, was, in their belief, to set in motion the divine and angelic powers them- selves, and a whole science of the black art had been invented, defining how and for what ends they could be pressed into the service of their invoker, like the genii of the Arabian Nights into that of a magician. The calm dignity and simplicity of Jesus, contrasted with their doubtful rites, -was, indeed, humiliating to them. The mightiest of all agencies at their command was the unutter- able name of "Jehovah" — called in the Book of Enoch, in the jargon of the Rabbinical exorcists — the oath Akal and " the number of Kesbeel." ^ By this number, or oath, it was held, 5 or"Beka." all that is has its being. It had also a secret magical power. i2'!'i3. i5°69, ' It was made known to men by the wicked angels — "the sons of God " — who allied themselves with -svomen, and brought on the flood.'' "It was revealed by the Head of « Gen. 6.2. the Oath to the holy ones who dwell above in majesty ; and his name is Beqa.'' And he said to the holy Michael that he should reveal to them that secret name, that they might see it, and that they might use it for an oath, that they who reveal to the sons of men all that is hidden, may shrink aAvay before that name and that oath. And this is the power of that oath, and these are its secret works, and these things were estabhshed by the swearing of it. The heaven was hung up for ever 140 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. ' DasBnch Henoch, 60. 12—26. Hansiath,! and ever (by it), before the world was created. By it the earth was founded above the Avater, and the fair streams come by it for the use of the living, from the hidden places of the hills, from the foundation of the earth, for ever. And by that oath was the sea made, and underneath it He spread the sand, to restrain it in the time of its rage, and it dare not overstep this bound from the creation of the world to eternity. And through that oath the abysses are confirmed, and stand, and move not from their place, from eternity to eternity. And through that oath the sun and the moon fulfil their course, and turn not aside from the path assigned thcni, for ever and ever. And through that oath the stars fulfil their course, and He calls their names, and they answer, from eternity to eternity. And even so the spirits of the waters, of the winds, of all airs, and their ways, according to all the combinations of the spirits. And by that oath are the treasuries of the voice of the thunder and of the bright- ness of the lightning maintained, and the treasuries of the rain, and of the hoar frost, and of the clouds, and of the rain, and of the dew. And over them all this oath is mighty."'' Possessing spells so mighty as they believed the secret names of the higher powers thus to be, the Rabbis had created a va.st science of magic, as fantastic as that of mediaival super- stition, to bring these awful powers to bear on the mys- teries of the future, and the diseases and troubles of the present. Combinations of numbers of lines, or of letters based on them, were believed to put them at the service of the seer, or the exorcist. Resistless talismans, protecting amu- lets, frightful curses, by which miracles could be wrought, the sick healed, and demons put to flight, were formed in this way. Ai-med with a mystic text from the opening of Genesis, or the visions of Ezekiel,^ or the secret name of God, or of some of the angels, or with secret mysterious unions of letters, the Rabbis who dealt in the dark arts had the power to draw the moon from heaven, or to open the abjsses of the earth ! *= The uninitiated saw only unmeaning signs in their most awful formula?, but he who could reckon their mj-stic value aright was master of angelic or even divine attributes.^ THE PRINCE OF THE DEVILS. 141 The appearance of Jesus as a miracle-worker so diiFerent ' from themselves, must have excited the Rabbinnical schools greatly. They made no little gain from their exorcisms, and now they were in danger of being wholly discredited.^'^ At » a loss Avhat to do, they determined to slander what they could not deny, and attribute the miracles of Jesus to a league with the devil. They had, indeed, for some time back been whispering this insinuation about," to poison " the minds of the people against Him, as an emissary of Satan, and thus, necessarily, a disguised enemy of Israel, and of man. It would raise superstitious terror, if they could brand Him as a mere instrument of the kingdom of darkness. The cure of a man, blind, dumb, and possessed, was so astounding, that the Rabbis ventured to spread their malig- nant slanders more widely than heretofore. Jesus had re- tired to Peter's house, wearied and faint, after the miracle, but the multitude were so greatly excited that they crowded into the room, so that He could not even eat, and among them the Jerusalem Scribes, who were so bitter against Him, took care to find themselves. He read their faces, and knew their words. "This fellow, unauthorized and uneducated as He is, casts out devils, under Beelzebub, as their prince." They believed that the world of evil spirits, like that of the angels, formed a great army, in various di\isions, each with its head and subordinates, its rank and file; the whole under the command of Satan. Beelzebub^"^ — the " fifth '■ god," — was the name given by Jewish wit and contempt to Beelzebul,'^ — " the lord of the (royal) habitation" — a god of the Phenicians. To him was assigned the control of that division which inflicted disease of all kinds on man, and Jesus, they hinted, was playing a part under him, in pretending to di'ive out devils from the sick, that He might win the people to listen to His pestiferous teaching. They would not admit that His power was divine, and the ideas of the times necessarily assumed that it must be the opposite. It was of no avail that light streamed in on them ; for bigotry, like the pupil of the eye, contracts in pro- portion to the outward brightness. He was, with them, an Schrader's Paulus, ii. 3' Acts 16. 16. Bmtorf, 334, 389. Gfrorer, L 372. Light- foot, ii. 203 ; iii. 114. Langen, 324. Herzog, i. 769. Derenbourg, SI3. Tristram, 327. 142 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. Derenbourpr, 106. MclviU'; Sermons, i. 219. "Weidemann, Daretel luogen, 99. emissary and champion of the kingdom of the devil, and an enemy of God. They even went farther. Not only was He in league with the devil; He Himself was possessed with an unclean spirit/^ and the demon in Him had turned His brain : "He had a devil, and was mad."^^ They had spread this far and wide, and yet, ventured, now, into His presence. Jesus at once challenged them for their slanders, and brought them, in the presence of the multitude, to an account. " His whole life was before the world. The aim and spirit of it were transparent. "Was it not expressly to fight against the evil and confused spirit of the day; to overthrow all wickedness and all evil ; to restore moral and spiritual soundness in the people ; did He not strive after all this, Aiith the fulness of His power ? Who could deny that He only sought good, and spent all His energy to advance it ? And could He league Himself with the prince of dark- ness to do good? What a ridiculous, self-contrudictory charge ! To think of Him overcoming evil by evil ; fighting against the kingdom of darkness, with the weapons of dark- ness, was almost too foolish to repeat ! No kingdom is in conflict with itself, or if there be division in it, it is already in process of dissolution, for it needs nothing more to bring it quickly to ruin."® There was no answering such an argu- ment. But Jesus had still more to say. " If I," said He, " ca.st out devils by the power of Beelzebub, by whom do your disciples cast them out ? ^^ You do not attribute their works to the prince of devils, why do you do so with mine ? But if I do these things by the power of God, I prove myself to be sent from Him, and to be His Messiah, and where the Messiah is, there also is His Kingdom.^® Do you still hesitate to draw this conclusion '? Ask your- selves, then, how I can invade the kingdom of Satan, and take from him his servants, instruments, and victims, the sick, and the possessed, without having first overcome him- self ? The strong man's palace can only be spoiled when he, himself, is first bound. It is no light matter to jDut your- selves in the position you take towards me. He who is not with me, is, as may be seen in your case, my enemy. No THE SLANDER CONFUTED. 143 neutrality between the Messiah and the devil is possible. If you do not help, with me, to gather in the harvest, you scatter it, and hinder its being gathered !"^' ■ The arguments of Jesus were so irresistible that the Rabbis, taken in the snares they had set for Him, could say nothing, and,' now, while they were silenced before the people they had striven to pervert, He advanced from defence to attack. They claimed to be the righteous of the land, but had no idea of what true righteousness meant. Jesus had come to offer forgiveness to sinners, not to judge them. He desired rather to deliver them from their guilt. But He saw that His enemies, the theologians and clergy of the day, and the privileged classes generally, had determined to reject Him, whatever proofs of His divine mission He might advance. Their prejudices and self-interest had blinded them till their religious faculty was destroyed. They had deliberately refused to be convinced, and conscience grows dead if its convictions are slighted. The heart gets incapable of seeing the truth against which it has closed itself. They dared to speak of the Holy Spirit of God who inspired the New Kingdom, and in whose fulness Jesus wrestled against selfishness and ambition, soothed the woes of the peoj^le, opened a pure and heavenly future, and sought to win men to eternal Hfe, as a spirit of evil. Light was to them dark- ness, and darkness light. They even sought to quench the light in its source by j^lotting against His life. This, He told them, was blasphemy against the Divine Spirit. They had wilfully rejected the clear revelation of His presence and power, and had shown deliberate and conscious enmity against Him. "This awful sin," said He, "cannot be forgiven, because, when it occurs, the rehgious faculty has been voluntarily destroyed, and mlful, declared opposition to heavenly truth has possessed the soul as with a devil." " To speak against me as a man," He continued, " and not recognize me as the Messiah, is not a hopeless sin, for better knowledge, a change of heart, and faith, may come, and I may be acknowledged. But it is difi'erent w^hen the truth itself is blasphemed ; when the Holy Spirit, by whom alone the heart can be chano^ed, is contemned as e"sdl.^^ The soul " Ullmann, 226. Schleier- macher's Predigten, iii. cm. Keim. ii. 342 Schenkel, lOfi. Heraog,y.2S3 144 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. OHAP. xLi. lias then shut out the light, and has chosen darkness as it-s portion.^ " I warn you to beware of speaking thus any longer. Either decide that the tree is good and its fruit conse- quently good, or that it is bad and its fruit bad, but do not act so foolishly as you have done in your judgment on me, by calling the tree bad — that is, calling me a tool of the devil, and yet ascribing good fruit to me — such, I mean, as the casting out devils. Do not think what you say is mere words, for words rise from the heart, as if from the root of the man : as the tree and the stem, such is the fruit. See that you do your duty by yourselves, that the tree of your own spiritual being be good and bear good fruit. The tree is known by its fruits. It is no Avonder you blaspheme as you have done ; a generation of vipers, your hearts are evil, and you are morally incapable of acknowledging the truth, for the lips speak as the heart feels. Witness to the truth flows from the lips of the good ; such language as yours, from the lips of the evil. But, beware, for I tell you that, as such Avords are the utterance of the heart, and show how you are alFected towards God and His Spirit, you will have to give account of them when I come as the Messiah, to judgment. Your words respecting me and my Kingdom i» soueier- Will then justify or condemn you."^^ i^7r?*°' ^* *^^i^ point, as was common in the most solemn Jewish assembUes, He was interrupted by some of the Rabl:)is present. They demanded in strange contradiction to the theory that He was a secret agent of Beelzebub, some astounding miracle, as a sign from heaven in support of His claims as the Messiah : as hereafter they did, in every part of the world, w 1 Cor. 1.22. from the Apostles. -° The masses, and even their leaders, expected the repetition of all the great deeds of Moses and Joshua, to inaugurate the coming of the Messiah, and other claimants did not venture to resist the demand. Under the Procurator Fadus, a certain Theudas drew out the people to the Jordan to see Israel walk through, once more, on dry " Aiit.is.5. 1. ground. ^^ Under Felix, a prophet promised to throw down the walls of Jerusalem, as Joshua did those of Jericho, and gathered thirty thousand men on the Mount of Olives to see THE SIGN OF JONAH. 145 13.5. Bell. Jud. 13.4. them fall.^^ Others in\-ited the nation to follow them into cm\p. xu. the wilderness, where they promised to show them stupen- « bcu. jud. dous signs of the kingdom of God having come.^^ It might have seemed a temptation to One possessing supernatural power, to silence all cavil by a miracle of iiTesistible grandeur. But outward acknowledgment of His claims was of no worth in a kingdom like that of Christ's, resting on love, and homage to hohness. He cared nothing for popularity or fame, and lived in unbroken self-restraint, using His mighty power only to further spiritual ends. It was easy, there- fore, to repel the seduction, which He had akeady overcome in His first 2;reat wilderness strufrgle. "An evil and o Co adulterous generation," said He — " unfaithful to God, who chose Israel for His bride — asks for a sign, grand beyond all I have given, that I am the Messiah." Then, predicting His violent death. He went on — " There shall be no sign given it, but that of the prophet Jonah. For, as he was three days and three nights in the belly of the fish, so shall the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the kingdom of the dead."° The spiritual miracle of His life and words were the only signs He could vouch.safe while He lived, for at no time did He lay stress on miracles alone as a means of gaining disciples, but subordinated them to His proclamation of the Truth.'' His preaching would itself be a sign hke that of the preaching of Jonah to the Ninevites.-* "The men of that city," said He, " would rise in the judgment day, to witness against this generation, for they repented at the preaching of Jonah, and He was gi'eater than that prophet. The Queen of the South, who came from Sheba to hear the wisdom of Solomon, would then condemn them, for she came from the uttermost parts of the earth, and great as they thought the glory of Solomon,' they had one gi'eater than He before them, in Himself. Vast multitudes had gone out to hear John, and had professed repentance; vast multitudes had followed Himself, and, yet, the result had been only temporary and superficial. It would prove with this generation as with a man from whom an unclean spirit has for a time gone out. Meeting no suiting rest else where, it retm'ns, and finding its foi-mer dwelling in the VOL. II. 49 Keim, ii. 434. Matt.12.38 — 45. Lukell.24— 2C, 29—32. 146 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. Hausnlth, i 878. Keim, li. 4^ man's soul ref\dy for it, it allies itself with seven demons still worse than itself, and with their help enters the man once more. The Reformation under John, and under Him- self, was only tem2:)orary ; the nation would fall back a, ' ■' 471, 478. be as zealous for AA'hat is much more important." Your vanity is as great as your grasping hypocrisy ! Woe unto you, Pharisees ! for ye love the chief seats in the sj-nagogues, and Matt. 23. 14. Mark 7. 11. Nork, 141. 150 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. to be flattered by men rising up as you pass in the crowded mai'ket-place, and greeting you with reverend salutations of Rabbi, Rabbi, your reverence, your reverence.^^ Woe unto you ! you are like graves sunk in the earth, over which men Avalk, thinking the ground clean, and are defiled when they least suspect it.P Men think themselves with saints if in your company, but to be near you is to be near pollution !" A Rabbi'i among the guests here interrupted Him. "Teacher," said he, "you are condemning not only the common lay Pharisees, but us, the Rabbis." The interruption only directed Jesus against the "lawyers" specially. "Woe to you, lawyers, also!" said He, "for ye burden men with burdens grievous.to be borne, while 3'e, yourselves, touch not these burdens with one of your fingers to help the shoulders to bear them. Ye sit in your chambers and schools, and create legal rules, endless, harassing, intolerable, for the people, but not affecting yourselves, — shut out as you are from busy life. Woe unto you ! for ye build the tombs of the prophets, but your fathers, in whose acts you glory, killed them. Shame for their having done so might make you wish those sacred tombs forgotten ; but you have no shame, and rebuild these tombs to win favour with the people, while in your hearts you are ready to repeat to the prophets of to-day the deeds of your fathers towards those of old ! Your pretended reverence for these mart}TS, shown in restoring their sepulchres, while you are ready to repeat the wickedness of their murderers, makes these tombs a witness against you. The Holy Spirit had this in view, when He said by Me, sometime since,'' ' I Avill send them prophets and apostles, and some of them they will perse- cute and kill; that the blood of all the prophets, shed from the foundation of the world, may be required of this generation — from the blood of Abel to that of Zachariah, who perished between the altar and the Temple.' Yes, I say unto you, it will be required of this generation. Under the guidance of you law}-ers it Avas, that the people treated them as they did ! Woe to you ! you have taken away from the nation the key to the temple of heavenly knowledge — have A REQUEST DENIED. 151 made tlaem incapable of recognizing the trutli, — b)' your teaching. You, yourselves, have not entered, and you have hindered those from entering who were on the point of doing so ! " The die was finally cast. Henceforth Jesus stood con- sciously alone, the rejected of the leaders of His nation. There was before Him only a weary path of persecution, and, at its end, the Cross. An incident, recorded by St. Luke, seems to belong to this period. The multitudes thronging to hear the new teaching were daily greater, in spite of the hostility of the Rabbis, for their calumnies and insinuations had not yet abated the general excitement. " An innumerable multitude" waited for the reappearance of Jesus, and hung on His lips to catch every word. He might be attacked and slandered in the house of the Pharisee, but, as yet, the crowd looked on Him -oath astonish- ment and respect. Opinions differed only as to the scope of His action : that He was a great Rabbi, was felt by all. It was the custom to refer questions of all kinds to the Rabbis for their counsel and decision, which carried great weight, though it might be informal and extra-judicial. Their words were virtually law, for to dispute or oppose them was well-nigh criminal.^'' To get the support of one so great as 3 Jesus, therefore, in any matter, would, as it seemed, decide a point at once in his favour whom He supported. One of the crowd, reasoning thus, chose an opportunity to solicit His weighty interference in a question of inheri- tance,^'' in which there was a strife "uith a brother. ' " Teacher," said he, " speak to my brother, that he divide the inheritance with me." But he had utterly misconceived Christ's spirit and sphere. In the briefest and most direct words, the idea that He had anything to do with "judging" or " dividing" in woi'ldly atfau's was repudiated. It was not His province. The question, however, gave an occasion for solemn warning against the unworthy greed and selfishness which lie at the root of all such strife, on one side or the other. Addressing the crowd, who had heard the request. He gave them a caution against all forms of covetousness, or 152 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. CHAP. xLi. excessive desire of worldly possessions, in the following parable. "Watch," said He, "and keep yourselves from all covetous- ness. For, though a man may abound in riches, his life does not depend on his wealth, but on the will of God, who can lengthen or shorten his existence, and make it happy or sad, at His pleasure. Let me show you what I mean. " The gi'ound of a certain rich man brought forth plenti- fully. And he reasoned within himself, saying, ' What shall I do, because I have no room to stow away my crops ? ' And he said, ' This will I do. I will pull down my barns and build greater, and I will gather together into them all my crops and my property, and will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much property laid up for many years ; take thine ease, cat, drink, and be merry.' " But God said unto him, ' Fool, this night thy soul is required of thee, and whose will those things be which thou hast prepared ? ' " " So," added Jesus, " is he who heajis up treasures for himself, and is not rich towards God. Death, coming un- expectedly, and, at latest, soon strips him of all, if he has only thought of himself and of this world. The true wisdom is to use what we have so as to lay up treasures, by its right employment, in heaven, that God may give us these, after death, in the kingdom of the Messiah." AFTER THE STORM. 153 CHAPTER XLII. AFTER THE STORM. THE meal in the house of the Pharisee was a turning chap.xlh. point in the life of Jesus. The fierceness of His enemies had broken out into open rage, so that, as He left. He was followed by the infuriated Rabbis, gesticulating,^ as they » Luke n. 53. pressed round Him, and provoking Him to commit Himself by words of which they might lay hold. A vast crowd had meanwhile gathered,"^ partly on His side, partly turned ^^ luuo 12. 1. against Him by the arts of His accusers. The excitement had reached its highest. With such a multitude licfore Him, it was certain that He would not let the opportunity pass of proclaiming afresh the New Kingdom of God. It had been called a kingdom of the devil, and it was meet that He should turn aside the calumny. His past mode of teaching did not, however, seem suited for the new circumstances. It had left but small permanent results ; and a new and still simpler style of instruction, specially adapted to their dulness and untrained minds and hearts, would at least arrest their attention more sm-ely, and force them to a measure of reflec- tion. Pressing through the vast throng, to the shore of the Lake, He entered a fishing-boat, and, sitting down at its prow, the highest part of it, began, from this convenient pulpit, as it lightly rocked on the waters, the first of those wondrous parables, in which He henceforth so frequently embodied His teachings. The Parable or Mashal was a mode of instruction already familiar to Israel since the days of the Judges,^ and was in fami- ' Ji^gss 9. 7. J o 3 ^ Isaiah 5. 1, liar and constant use among the Rabbis. Its characteristic Ezek.i3.ii,io. is the presentation of moral and religiovis truth in a more 154 THE LIFE OF CHRIST. cHAP^Lii. Aavid form than is possible by mere precept, or abstract statement, use being made for tliis end of some incident drawn from life or nature, by whicli the lesson sought to be given is pictured to the e3'e, and thus imprinted on the memory, and made more emphatic. Analogies hitherto unsuspected between familiar natural facts and spiritual phenomena; lessons of duty enforced by some simple imagi- nary narrative or incident; striking parallels and comparisons, which made the homeliest trifles symbols of the highest truths, abound in all the discourses of Jesus, but are still more frequent from this time. Nothing was henceforth left unused. The light, the darkness, the houses around, the games of childhood, the sightless wayside beggar, the foxes of the hills, the leathern bottles hung up from every rafter, the patched or new garment, and even the noisy hen amidst her chickens, served, in turn, to illustrate some lofty truth. The soAver on the hill-side at hand, the flaming weeds among the corn, the common mustard plant, the leaven in the woman's dough, the treasure disclosed by the passing plough- share, the pearl brought by the travelling merchant from distant lands for sale at Bethsaida or Tiberias, — at Philip's court or that of Antipas, — the draw-net seen daily on the Lake, the pitiless servant, the labourers in the vineyards around — any detail of every-day life — was elevated, as occasion de- manded, to be the vehicle of the sublimest lessons. Others have uttered parables ; but Jesus so far transcends them, that He may justly be called the creator of this mode of instruc-. < Benan'sVie tlOn.* de J(